#Road So Far Socks

[sonarspace]

❝ TOUCH ME, TAKE ME, KISS ME ❞

ft. gojo, geto & shoko. (4some)

꒰ synopsis. where celebrating new year’s with your best friends turns into something much more intimate—one kiss at midnight isn’t nearly enough.

warnings. MDNI. college au. fem! reader, fōursome, mutual pining, unprotected p in v, orāl (f! and m! receiving), fingerıng (f! and m! receiving), clıt stimulation, overstimulation, dirty talk, shared partner dynamics, voyeurism, slight dom/sub vibes, hair pulling, teasing, praise kink, body worship, light biting/marking, cųm play, & multiple orgasmś.

the cabin was exactly what you’d expect from satoru gojo – unnecessarily luxurious, tucked away on the outskirts of a snowy mountain town, and equipped with every amenity that screamed rich kid with too much money to burn.

“seriously, satoru, who the hell needs a jacuzzi in their living room?” shoko teased, setting her duffel down by the entryway. the bubbling water glowed from the built-in lights, steam curling lazily into the warm space.

gojo smirked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black hoodie. “it’s about the vibes, shoko. the experience. and, i dunno, maybe i just like having options.”

geto, sitting cross-legged on the couch, glanced up from his phone. “yeah? and when’s the last time you used it?”

“hey, i brought you guys here, didn’t i? sounds like ungrateful energy to me,” gojo shot back, though his grin didn’t waver.

you chuckled softly, toeing off your boots near the fireplace, letting the heat seep through your socks. the large windows stretched across the far wall, showcasing the snow falling steadily outside, blanketing the trees under the silver moonlight.

“he’s right, though,” you chimed in, peeling off your jacket. “we could’ve rung in the new year at some regular house party. but instead, we’re here. cozy, secluded... not the worst way to spend our last new year as college students.”

“see? someone gets it,” gojo said, flashing you that familiar, lopsided grin.

you rolled your eyes, but the truth was, you didn’t mind. the four of you had been close since your freshman year, and as the years piled up, so did the late-night study sessions, spontaneous road trips, and drunken confessions after long nights out. this felt like a full-circle moment. one final hurrah before graduation came sweeping in to change everything.

shoko tossed herself onto the couch beside geto, tugging off her beanie and shaking out her hair. “so, what’s the plan? drinking games until midnight, or are we just free-styling it?”

“why not both?” suguru said, stretching an arm behind her, fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder where you leaned against the armrest. the contact was subtle, but you felt it linger.

gojo raised a brow, tilting his head dramatically. “i was thinking strip poker.”

shoko snorted, flicking his forehead. “sure. you’d be naked in five minutes.”

“is that supposed to be a problem?”

your eyes flickered to suguru, catching the small smirk pulling at his lips. his gaze met yours for half a second, dark eyes flickering with something unreadable, before dropping back to his phone.

this wasn’t the first time you’d caught the lingering tension between everyone – the casual touches, the way shoko’s gaze would sometimes linger on you a little too long, or the moments gojo’s hands would rest on your lower back at parties, guiding you through crowds when he didn’t really need to.

you weren’t oblivious. but none of you had ever crossed that line.

yet.

“alright, let’s start with drinks,” you suggested, pushing yourself to your feet. “anyone want to help me?”

“i got it,” geto said, standing with an easy grace. “come on.”

as the two of you headed into the kitchen, shoko and gojo’s quiet laughter echoed softly from the living room, the crackling fire filling the otherwise silent cabin.

suguru leaned against the counter, watching as you rummaged through the cabinets.

“so,” he started, his voice low and smooth, “how are you feeling about tonight?”

you glanced over your shoulder. “in general? or is this a ‘we’re about to graduate, what are you doing with your life?’ kind of question?”

his lips quirked. “both, maybe.”

you sighed, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. “i’m trying not to think about it too hard. tonight’s about celebrating, not panicking about the future.”

he nodded thoughtfully, but his eyes lingered.

“you know,” he mused, stepping closer, “satoru’s not wrong. it is kind of a waste to let this cabin go to waste.”

“what are you suggesting?” you teased, pouring the whiskey into a glass.

suguru’s gaze dipped, trailing over you slowly before flicking back to your eyes. “just saying… midnight’s a good time for new experiences.”

heat prickled your skin under his stare, but before you could respond, gojo’s voice rang out from the other room.

“hey, you two! quit flirting and bring the damn drinks!”

you laughed, but suguru didn’t move right away. instead, his fingers brushed lightly against your wrist as he grabbed the bottle from the counter, his touch lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch.

yeah. tonight was going to be interesting.

the drinks flowed easily, laughter spilling into the warm cabin air as the four of you huddled near the fireplace, sprawled across the plush rugs and oversized pillows. suguru sat beside you, his knee brushing yours with every shift, while gojo leaned against the couch, one long arm lazily slung around shoko’s shoulders.

“alright,” gojo drawled, tipping back his glass. his eyes glittered behind those obnoxious shades he insisted on wearing inside. “time for a game.”

“drinking game?” shoko asked, already halfway through her second glass of whiskey.

“nope.” gojo’s smirk curled wickedly. “truth or dare.”

you snorted, shaking your head. “what are we? sixteen?”

“don’t knock it,” suguru said smoothly, his eyes half-lidded as he sipped his drink. “it could be fun. besides, satoru’s incapable of suggesting anything mature.”

gojo shot him a look. “this coming from the guy who suggested skinny dipping in the hot tub an hour ago.”

“that was different. it was an intellectual suggestion.”

“sure it was.”

shoko waved a hand dismissively. “fine. truth or dare it is. but no stupid shit like licking the floor or whatever. we’re not in a frat house.”

gojo grinned, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “who’s starting?”

your hand shot up, aiming for the path of least resistance. “truth.”

“boring,” gojo muttered, but there was mischief behind the slight pout. “alright, fine. if you had to kiss one of us at midnight, who would it be?”

the room fell quiet for a beat too long. you felt three sets of eyes zero in on you, the weight of their attention thick enough to taste.

“uh—” you faltered, heat crawling up your neck.

“careful,” suguru murmured beside you, voice low and teasing. “we’ll know if you’re lying.”

your gaze flicked to his, catching the flicker of something darker in his expression. your heart thudded a little harder.

“i dunno,” you hedged, taking a slow sip of your drink. “depends on the mood, i guess.”

gojo leaned closer, grinning like he’d already won. “that’s not an answer.”

“then take it as my answer.”

shoko laughed, leaning back against the couch cushions. “she’s playing it safe. smart girl.”

but the tension lingered, subtle but persistent, weaving through the air like smoke.

“my turn,” suguru cut in smoothly, tilting his head toward gojo. “truth or dare?”

“dare, obviously.”

“kiss shoko.”

“easy.”

without hesitation, gojo leaned down and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to shoko’s lips. she didn’t pull away – if anything, her hand slid lazily up his arm, nails grazing lightly against his skin before they parted.

“you guys have done that before,” you pointed out, trying to ignore the heat twisting low in your stomach.

“multiple times,” shoko replied, smirking. “you’re late to the party.”

gojo winked. “jealous?”

“not particularly.”

but the idea lodged itself somewhere deep. maybe it was the alcohol warming your veins, or the way suguru’s hand rested against the small of your back, light but possessive, but the thought lingered.

midnight wasn’t that far off.

the countdown started around 11:50. the drinks were mostly forgotten by then, the four of you curled closer near the fire, the alcohol buzzing quietly in your heads.

“five minutes,” gojo announced, his voice dropping to something smoother, almost suggestive. “better start thinking about that kiss.”

shoko stretched her legs out, crossing them at the ankles. “maybe we should just kiss each other. take the guesswork out of it.”

your stomach flipped at her casual tone, but when you glanced at suguru, his gaze was already fixed on you.

“not opposed,” he said softly.

gojo made a low hum of approval, sitting up straighter. “why not?”

“you’re all serious about this?” you asked, voice tipping toward incredulous, but your pulse betrayed you, hammering against your ribs.

“you’re curious,” suguru countered, brushing his knuckles against your thigh.

and you were. the tension had been building for years – subtle glances, fleeting touches, unspoken things hanging just out of reach.

“alright,” you relented, the words tasting like adrenaline on your tongue. “fine.”

the countdown echoed on the tv screen, bright against the dim cabin.

ten.

nine.

suguru shifted closer, his thigh pressed against yours.

eight.

seven.

gojo’s gaze dropped to your lips, his grin softer, teasing.

six.

shoko leaned into your side, her arm brushing yours.

five.

four.

your breath hitched as suguru’s hand curled under your chin, tilting your face toward his.

three.

two.

one.

their lips met yours at the same time – suguru’s mouth warm and steady, while shoko’s was softer, tasting faintly of whiskey.

you lost yourself in it, your hand fisting in suguru’s shirt as gojo’s hand brushed against your lower back, slipping lower, pulling you closer.

and just like that, the line dissolved completely.

the kiss started playful—soft touches, slow exploration—but the heat behind it caught quickly, sparking into something heavier. suguru’s fingers brushed your jaw, coaxing your lips open as his tongue slid against yours, slow and possessive. shoko’s mouth trailed along your neck, leaving wet kisses against your pulse, while gojo’s hand slipped under the hem of your sweater, his palm warm as it splayed across your waist.

you broke the kiss with suguru only to meet shoko’s lips, her tongue teasing against yours as she pressed closer, her hands slipping down to rest on your thighs. the space between the four of you seemed to vanish, replaced by the weight of wandering hands and shared breaths.

gojo groaned softly, nipping at suguru’s bottom lip before tugging him back by the collar, stealing a kiss that left no room for subtlety. suguru didn’t resist, his hand tangling in gojo’s hair, tilting his head to deepen it. the sight had your breath catching, heat pooling low in your stomach.

“god, you two,” shoko muttered, smirking against your lips. “it’s like watching a porno.”

“jealous?” gojo quipped, pulling back just enough to catch his breath, his eyes glittering with amusement.

“maybe.”

“you get her,” suguru said smoothly, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. “we’ll be back.”

before you could question it, gojo grabbed suguru’s wrist and led him out of the living room, disappearing into the hall with low, breathy laughter echoing behind them.

the absence of their presence left you and shoko tangled together on the rug by the fire, the crackling flames casting soft shadows across her face.

“guess it’s just us,” she murmured, her fingers tracing light patterns over your thighs.

“seems like it,” you whispered, barely able to focus with the heat of her body pressed so close.

shoko didn’t waste time once the boys left the room. her lips crashed into yours, all tongue and teeth, as if she’d been holding back for too long. you could feel the heat radiating off her as her hands roamed your body, tugging at the edges of your sweater until it slipped over your head.

her palms were warm against your bare skin, fingertips skimming the soft curve of your breasts, and you gasped into her mouth, arching into her touch.

“fuck,” she whispered, eyes trailing down your body, drinking you in like she couldn’t get enough. “been waiting to get my hands on you all night.”

you let her take control, her nails scraping lightly down your back as she kissed a path to your collarbone, sucking a bruise into the delicate skin.

your sweater, jeans, and everything else ended up in a pile near the fireplace, leaving you bare and vulnerable in the soft flicker of firelight. shoko settled between your legs, her hands pressing your thighs apart with a confidence that had you squirming beneath her.

“you’re so wet already,” she murmured, dragging a single finger through your folds. “you like this, huh?”

you could barely nod, the sensation making you dizzy.

her mouth followed, soft lips trailing over the inside of your thighs, her tongue flicking out to catch the slick gathering at your core.

“fuck, shoko,” you gasped, hips bucking when she sucked your clit between her lips, the warmth of her tongue making you shudder.

her grip on your thighs tightened, nails digging into the soft flesh as she kept you pinned, her mouth relentless.

“stay still,” she mumbled, voice muffled against you.

it was impossible. you tugged lightly at her hair, desperate for something to hold onto as she worked you closer to the edge, her tongue curling just right.

you didn’t even notice the sound of footsteps until shoko pulled back slightly, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk.

“oh,” she hummed, licking her lips. “you two back already?”

your gaze snapped to the doorway.

gojo and geto stood there, completely bare, their cocks hard and already dripping.

“we were enjoying the view,” gojo said, his voice deeper, laced with something dark as his gaze fixed on you.

geto stepped forward first, his eyes hooded as he stroked himself lazily, clearly not in any rush. “didn’t know you’d start without us.”

“you two looked busy,” shoko teased, swiping her thumb across her bottom lip, catching the glisten of your arousal.

“don’t stop on our account,” gojo added, stepping closer, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock as he knelt beside you.

shoko chuckled, glancing down at you with amusement in her eyes. “what do you think?”

you didn’t know how to answer, too overwhelmed by the weight of their attention—the way geto’s dark gaze lingered on your mouth, the curve of gojo’s smirk as he ran his fingers along your inner thigh.

“she can take it,” geto murmured, brushing his lips along the curve of your jaw. “she’s been good so far.”

shoko shifted lower, her breath hot against your core, but this time, geto was beside her, his lips pressing soft kisses to your clit before shoko’s tongue joined him.

“fuck—” your breath hitched, your back arching off the floor as their mouths worked in tandem, the slick warmth of their tongues too much.

gojo, not wanting to be left out, moved behind you, his lips ghosting along your neck as his fingers slid into your pussy, curling to meet the rhythm of their mouths.

“so fucking pretty,” he whispered into your ear, biting lightly at the lobe. “you like being the center of attention, don’t you?”

you couldn’t answer, too caught up in the overwhelming sensation, your body trembling as the knot in your stomach tightened.

“c’mon,” shoko coaxed, her tongue circling your clit faster. “let go for us.”

you did, a sharp cry leaving your lips as your orgasm tore through you, your hips jerking uncontrollably as shoko and geto didn’t stop, their mouths and fingers milking every last drop of pleasure.

when you finally opened your eyes, dazed and breathless, geto was already shifting, settling between your legs as gojo moved to take his place beside shoko.

“don’t be greedy, shoko,” gojo teased, his lips brushing yours as geto lined himself up with your entrance, the thick head of his cock pressing inside.

shoko’s hand slipped beneath your jaw, guiding you to look at her as geto thrust into you, stretching you wide.

“you can give us one more,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to yours as her lips hovered inches from your mouth. “be a good girl for me, yeah?”

geto’s cock stretched you to the hilt, the fullness making you shudder as he bottomed out, his forehead pressed against yours. shoko’s hand traced slow circles along your cheek, grounding you with soft touches even as her other hand slipped lower, two fingers pressing against your clit, slick from how drenched you were.

“you’re taking him so well,” she whispered, her thumb brushing your bottom lip. “but you can take more, can’t you?”

you nodded weakly, body already trembling, but the praise made your stomach flutter.

gojo shifted, moving behind you, his lips trailing lazy kisses along the curve of your shoulder. “gonna open you up even more,” he murmured, his fingers dragging down the length of your stomach, teasing along the edge of your folds where geto’s cock stretched you.

you felt his middle finger slip inside, pressing against the soft spot geto wasn’t reaching. the sensation was dizzying.

“so fucking tight,” gojo hissed, sliding another finger in beside the first, stretching you further. “can feel how deep suguru is inside you.”

shoko’s breath tickled your lips as her fingers drifted lower, joining gojo’s as he stretched you open, the combination of their touches leaving you gasping.

“so sensitive,” shoko cooed, pressing soft kisses along your jawline, her fingers brushing light circles around your clit.

gojo’s third finger slipped inside, the stretch nearly overwhelming, and your nails dug into the rug beneath you as your back arched, your body tightening around them both.

“fuck,” geto grunted, his cock twitching inside you. “she’s squeezing me like crazy.”

“feels good, doesn’t it?” gojo teased, his smirk audible even if you couldn’t see him. “she’s so warm… bet you won’t last long.”

geto’s grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts slowing, each drag of his cock purposeful as he pushed deep, grinding against the spot that made you tremble.

you whimpered, barely able to take it all in, your body stretched beyond its limits but craving more. shoko kissed the corner of your mouth, her lips lingering just long enough to make you chase after her, your tongue brushing against hers in a soft, needy motion.

“i can feel how close you are,” she whispered, her fingers pinching your clit just enough to make you jolt. “you’re trembling.”

gojo’s fingers pressed deeper, curling in a way that sent sparks shooting through you, and you nearly sobbed from the intensity.

“you’re holding back,” gojo whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against your earlobe. “let go, sweetheart. we’re not stopping till you’re a mess beneath us.”

geto groaned, his pace faltering, hips snapping faster as he chased his own pleasure, his grip bruising in the best way.

shoko dipped her head lower, trailing soft kisses down your neck, her hand leaving your jaw to tug gently at one of your nipples, rolling it between her fingers as her other hand continued its teasing strokes over your swollen clit.

“give it to us,” she coaxed, her voice laced with a softness that made your chest ache. “you can take it, pretty girl. just one more, i know you can.”

your breath hitched, the knot in your stomach tightening as the pressure mounted.

“fuck—shoko, i’m gonna—”

“i know,” she whispered, her lips pressing to yours in a soft, breathless kiss.

the wave hit you hard, your walls fluttering around geto’s cock as your orgasm crashed over you, your hips jerking up to meet his thrusts as gojo’s fingers kept curling inside, stretching you open further.

“that’s it,” gojo growled, pulling his fingers out just as geto’s pace grew erratic.

“fuck, i’m close,” geto grunted, thrusting hard one last time before he groaned low in his throat, spilling into you with a slow roll of his hips.

shoko kissed you through it, swallowing your soft cries as geto leaned forward, his forehead resting against your shoulder, chest heaving.

but they didn’t stop.

geto groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he gave one last deep thrust, burying himself fully inside you as he spilled, warmth flooding your core.

your body trembled, the overstimulation leaving you breathless, forehead pressed against shoko’s shoulder as she ran soft fingers through your hair, grounding you.

“fuck,” geto whispered, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he pulled out slowly, his cum slipping down your thighs, sticky and warm against your skin.

but even as geto leaned back, his hands still lingering on your hips, gojo wasn’t done.

his cock throbbed against your thigh, heavy and slick with precum, the tip flushed and desperate for attention.

you felt his gaze on you, his hand sliding over your jaw to tilt your face toward him.

“think you can help me out, pretty girl?” he murmured, his lips brushing yours in a teasing kiss, but his hips were already shifting closer, his cock pressing insistently against your palm.

you nodded, the quiet desperation in his voice making you throb, still sensitive from geto’s lingering touch. your fingers curled around him, warm and slick as you stroked slowly, feeling the weight of him in your hand.

“fuck, just like that,” he groaned, tipping his head back slightly as his hand covered yours, guiding your pace.

meanwhile, shoko shifted in front of you, her bare thighs brushing against your waist as she straddled you, her hands resting on your shoulders for balance.

“don’t forget about me,” she teased, voice low, but there was heat in her eyes as she grabbed your wrist, guiding your fingers between her legs.

her slick heat coated your fingers immediately as they slipped inside, making her moan softly against your ear, hips rolling to meet your touch.

“you feel that?” she whispered, her forehead pressed to yours, panting softly. “been wanting you to touch me like this all night.”

your palm pressed deeper, thumb brushing over her swollen clit, and she gasped, biting down gently on your bottom lip as her hips bucked forward.

but shoko wasn’t one to let you do all the work.

her other hand drifted between your legs, her fingers brushing over your overstimulated core, dragging through the mess geto left behind.

“so messy,” she murmured, her tone soft and teasing, but there was nothing gentle about the way she slipped two fingers inside you, pressing into the heat that still fluttered around nothing.

you whimpered, arching into her hand as your own pace on gojo faltered, your grip tightening around his cock.

“shit—” gojo hissed, his breath stuttering as your fist squeezed him just right, his hips jerking up into your touch.

“i’ve got her,” shoko murmured to gojo, her lips grazing your ear as she thrust her fingers deeper, her pace slow but deliberate. “she’s so tight, aren’t you, baby?”

you couldn’t form words, only broken moans slipping past your parted lips, drool glistening as it trailed down your chin, your jaw slack beneath the intensity of it all. shoko’s fingers curled deep inside you, pressing against that spot that made your thighs tremble violently, your entire body arching into her touch.

her thumb circled your clit in slow, deliberate motions—not too much, but just enough to have you writhing beneath her, the friction driving you higher with every slow roll of her hips against yours.

“look at you,” geto murmured, dark eyes fixed on the way you twisted between them, shoko’s hand buried up to her knuckles inside you.

without a word, he leaned in, catching the trail of drool with his lips, kissing gently along your jaw before letting his tongue brush over the corner of your mouth, warm and unhurried.

“you’re taking her so well,” he said softly, his breath fanning over your lips before pressing a kiss to the hinge of your jaw, his palm cupping your cheek tenderly.

shoko’s teeth scraped over your neck, biting gently before soothing the mark with her tongue, her fingers never faltering.

“i know you can give me one more,” she coaxed, her voice soft but firm, curling her fingers until you nearly sobbed into her shoulder. “come on, baby, let me feel you.”

your hips rocked into her hand on instinct, chasing the pressure as pleasure coiled tighter inside you, her fingers coaxing you toward the edge.

“she’s close,” gojo groaned, his cock twitching in your palm as his eyes dragged over your body, flushed and trembling beneath shoko’s touch.

his hand slid over yours, guiding your strokes as his breath stuttered, his hips jerking forward to chase your fist.

“let go for us,” shoko whispered, her tongue tracing the curve of your ear, and with one last slow curl of her fingers, the tension inside you snapped.

your body trembled violently, thighs clenching around her hand as your orgasm surged through you, knocking the breath from your lungs.

shoko kept going, fucking you through the aftershocks, her fingers stroking deeper to draw out every last shiver until you were limp against her chest.

“fuck,” gojo hissed through gritted teeth, his grip on your hand tightening as he spilled hot and thick against your fingers, painting your skin with a satisfied groan.

for a moment, the room was quiet, the only sounds the soft crackling of the fire and the heavy weight of your breathing.

you lay there, muscles lax and trembling, shoko’s fingers still lazily circling your clit as she pressed soft kisses against your shoulder, grounding you in the afterglow.

“you were perfect,” she murmured against your lips, smiling softly as she finally slipped her fingers free, slick and glistening with your release.

geto brushed his thumb along your jaw, tilting your face toward him as he kissed you, slow and deliberate, his touch warm and steady.

“happy new year,” shoko whispered, her forehead resting gently against yours, and you couldn’t help the quiet laugh that slipped out between heavy breaths.

“happy new year,” you echoed softly, sinking further into the warmth of their bodies against yours.

an. HAPPY NEW YEAR BELOVEDS 😼😽😸! what are some new years goals y’all have? one of mine is to grow my tumblr following n get better at posting more 🤞🏽

[moonstruckme]

A Christmas Special

summary: after Christmas Eve at Remus' flat, thick snowfall prevents you from going home. He's more than happy to host you

cw: mentions of alcohol, smut mdni, p in v, oral (fem receiving), praise, inexperienced reader, shy little idiots in love

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 11k words

Remus isn’t sure entirely how he’d gotten strongarmed into hosting Christmas Eve at his flat. James and Lily usually host, but James claimed that this year their house was in too much a state of “baby mayhem” to have any hope of being tidied enough for a gathering. He’s said it in such a lovesick voice Remus couldn’t push back for long, his friend’s happiness so potent it was like looking into the sun. Sirius had begged off quickly, saying that his “bachelor pad” was too small to have a group over. As usual, when Remus spoke last, the matter was settled before he’d gotten the chance to have much of a say. 

He’s made an effort to live up to the hosting legacy passed down to him by the Potters, but it’s a flimsy attempt at best. Thankfully, the snowfall outside is doing a fair amount of the work for him. Remus’ street is coated in fresh, gleaming powder, enough that the trees look weighted down with it and his neighbor had put her little dog in a knit sweater to go into the yard and do its business. It’s still coming down, the snowflakes visible in crisp contrast against the darkening sky as they drift lazily to the earth. 

Inside Remus’ home, the Christmas tree is nearly covered in tinsel to make up for his scant supply of ornaments, he’s run out of stockings to put up above the fireplace and has had to use one large sock (that one will have to be for Sirius), and he’s still stringing up popcorn when a knock sounds on the door. 

Remus is surprised (he’d told everyone to come at six, but that was only because he didn’t think anyone would actually show up until a couple hours after), but that dies away when he unbolts the door and opens it to find you on the other side. 

“Hi,” you say, teeth nearly chattering as Remus ushers you inside. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was worse than I expected.” 

“It’s hardly quarter after six.” Remus takes your coat, tsking. “People do seem to become worse drivers around the holidays, don’t they?” 

“Well, I suppose not everyone on the road tonight might be used to driving in the snow,” you allow, ever forgiving. 

Remus smiles. “Merry Christmas, love.” 

Your lashes kiss as you smile back at him, unwrapping your scarf. “Merry Christmas.” You’re merry as can be, cheeks dimpling and eyes sparkling under the twinkling lights Remus is suddenly very glad he decided to purchase for the occasion. “Where is everyone?” 

“Well,” Remus says, heading back for the couch, “Sirius is hitching a ride with James and Lily, so if I had to guess I’d wager that James is just putting the finishing touches whatever food he’s decided to bring while Lily tries to rush him out the door. And then they’ll go to Sirius’ place and have to wait for him to finish wrapping the presents he undoubtedly just remembered today.” 

You sit beside him with a half-exasperated laugh. “I was thinking I’d be the last one here,” you admit, “but I’d forgotten how they can be when it comes to these things.” 

Remus shrugs. “Easy to forget.” Lily is usually able to marshal James (and by extension, Sirius) most places on time these days, but the frenzy when they actually have things to prepare is inevitable; Remus has learnt to account for it. He reclaims his half-finished string of popcorn, clumsily stabbing the needle into another kernel and wincing when it goes through easier than expected, pricking his finger. 

“Oh no, did you hurt yourself?” you lean over, trying to see his hand. 

“No, just a scratch.” Remus has about a billion of them by now. He’s far from coordinated on a good day, but the unwise decision to have coffee earlier has resulted in shaky hands that make working with a needle somewhat hazardous. 

You watch him try again, and it’s really the distraction of your cute frown more than anything else that messes him up. His needle goes through the fluffy edge of the popcorn, stabbing him and giving the string hardly anything to hold onto in the process. The flake falls to his lap for his efforts. 

“Remus, your hand’s not a pincushion,” you say, and you weren’t yourself he’d almost think you were chiding him. You reach over, taking the needle and thread from him. “Here, let me do that.” 

“I didn’t mean for you to come here early so I could put you to work,” Remus protests, watching as you string up the next piece of popcorn with nimble fingers. Jealousy wars with admiration, but his esteem for you wins out. “You’ll never come back for New Year’s if this is what you have to look forward to.” 

You smile down at your hands. “Sure I will. You’ll still be there, won’t you? And I really don’t mind helping, it gives me something to do.” 

Remus smiles back even though you’re not looking. “Alright, well I guess that means I can start rolling out the gingerbread dough. Thanks, love.” He touches his hand lightly to the crown of your head as he stands, letting the urge to press a kiss there pass as quickly as it arises.

He goes into the kitchen. A second later, you decide to follow. Popcorn swishes against the floor behind you as you make your way over to the bar counter, sitting on a stool with your string trailing all the way back to the couch. 

“You’re making gingerbread cookies?” you ask, watching with eager eyes as he plops the dough onto the floured counter, rolling it flat. 

“Mhm. You like them?” 

“Never had one.” 

Remus feels his eyebrows inch upwards. “Seriously?” 

You look almost sheepish, as though this is a crime which you expect to be held against you. Honestly, you’re not far off; had James been here, you would have been questioned and scolded to hell and back, and then he would’ve made Remus give you some dough to try, salmonella be damned. 

“No,” you answer him. “We made ornaments out of them in school, once, but we weren’t allowed to eat any. I always thought they were so cute, though, with the little people cutouts.” 

“They’re the best,” Remus agrees, pressing out the shapes and laying them on the baking sheet. “If you finish that quickly enough, I might even let you help me cut out a few.” 

“Yes!” you cheer. He laughs when you start working quicker with the needle. 

“Don’t hurt yourself. The privilege of cookie cutting is not actually contingent on your labor.” 

“I know,” you say, but your hands don’t slow. Remus has barely finished filling his second baking sheet before you’re done, having made more progress in the last twenty minutes than he had over nearly an hour. 

Remus’ hip touches yours as he shows you how to give the cookie cutters a little shake in the dough, freeing the shape before lifting it and placing it on the sheet. It’s not a painfully difficult task, and still he’s impressed by how quickly you catch on. You’re a machine of efficiency. You seem to enjoy rolling out the dough almost as much as pressing out the shapes, falling into a quick, happy rhythm. Before long you’ve pushed Remus out of the way (Lily would be proud, he thinks), urging him to go and hang up the popcorn garland before everyone else arrives. 

You haven’t seen each other in over a month, both of you caught up in the hustle and bustle of the season, and you catch up as you work on your separate tasks. Remus talks to you about his job, the students who plague him and the ones he wishes he could take home after work each day, and how none of them had liked the film he’d put on the day before break. (“Mister Magoo’s is a classic!” you protest as Remus shakes his head. “They’re too young to get it,” he says. “Our classics are just old to them.”) You tell him about your new cat, and the sweater you’d crocheted her for the holiday which she despises above all else, and he promises to come over sometime soon to meet her. 

You’ve poured yourselves spiked eggnog and sampled a few ginger cookies (“They’re twice as good when they’re fresh,” Remus says. “Don’t let the others’ tardiness rob you of the experience.”) by the time the door bursts open again, Sirius of course not bothering to knock. 

“Hello!” he calls from somewhere behind a tower of presents. “Merry holiday to you, Moony!” 

You get up to help, and so Remus is compelled to do so as well, taking a couple of sloppily-wrapped boxes from Sirius’ arms. 

“Merlin, it smells good in here,” James declares as he comes through the door, Lily carrying a beaming baby Harry on her hip behind him. James’ eyes fall on you. “Awe, you beat us here?”

Remus scoffs, setting down the gifts by the tree and leaving you to arrange them as you see fit. “Not very difficult, when you’re over an hour late,” he says. “You’re lucky Y/N’s good company, or I’d be more cross with you.” 

“Sorry,” says Lily as Sirius makes a dismissive sound, flopping onto the couch. “We had some trouble fitting everything in the car with Harry’s seat, and then Sirius—” she shoots him a glare, and he grins like she’s sweetly cooed his name “—wouldn’t leave without his hat, even though he’d lost it.” 

“One only gets to wear one’s elf hat every so often,” Sirius justifies, unperturbed. “I wasn’t going to miss the occasion even if it took me all night to find it.” 

“It nearly did,” Lily shoots back, but then James is at her side, having discarded his load of food and presents and now vying to hold Harry. 

“Come here, my handsome little guy.” 

“Used to call me that,” Sirius quips with his mouth full of gingerbread cookies, a heaping plate seeming to have found its way into his lap. 

Remus isn’t going to smile at that poor attempt at a joke, but once you laugh he can’t help it. 

“Only on special occasions,” James replies, taking Harry under the arms and hoisting him into the air. Harry laughs, and it’s probably the most contagious sound Remus has ever heard. Everyone smiles; James most of all, grinning ear to ear as he does it again. 

“He never lets me hold him,” Lily complains fondly. 

“Because I know how much you like seeing me with him,” James says breezily, making a face at Harry above him. “You’re mad with lust right now, Evans, don’t try to deny it.” 

“Sleaze,” Sirius says to him, the bell on his hat jingling when he tilts his head.

“I know you are, but what am I?” 

“I,” Remus cuts them off, “am hungry. And I’ll bet Y/N is too, since she’s very politely refrained from snacking much while we waited for you lot.” 

James' attention actually leaves his son for half a second to look at you and see if what Remus says is true, and you go instantly bashful. It doesn’t seem to matter how long you’re friends with them; having attention drawn to you will always find you avoiding everyone’s eyes. Lily comes to your rescue, ushering you into the kitchen like she needs somewhere to channel her mother hen urges while James is monopolizing Harry. 

“I hope you really are hungry,” she says, “because James has made enough bhaji to feed us all for a month.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Soon even James is stuffed and you’re all a bit tipsy on eggnog. Some of your natural anxiety fades as everything starts to feel slower and more fluid, your insides warm and soft as wax. 

“No, because it was so obvious,” Sirius says. He’s telling a story about a girl he’d seen at a coffee shop that he’s sure was enamored with him. James, naturally, agrees completely, but Lily and Remus aren’t so sure. “She did the—the thing. Y/N, back me up. When a girl makes eye contact with you and then looks off to the side, it means she’s not interested, but when she looks down, it’s because she’s nervous, right?”

You raise your eyebrows. “I think you made that up,” you tell him, tiny bits of laughter running in between your words. “Anyway, is her being nervous necessarily a good thing?” 

“She was nervous because she’s obsessed with me,” Sirius insists. 

“Or,” Remus says, “she was nervous because you were staring at her, and she thought you were going to follow her home.” 

“And probably kill her,” Lily agrees. 

James’ eyebrows shoot up. “Merlin, you two are dark. Our Padfoot’s not putting out murderous vibes. He’s got too much boyish charm.” 

Sirius nods appreciatively, but Lily only shrugs, careful not to jostle Harry where he’s sleeping on her lap. “Girls have to think of those things.” 

“Bleak.” James looks slightly troubled as he kisses the side of his wife’s head. “Well, I think she was in love with you, Pads.”

“Yeah,” Remus rolls his eyes, “he should show up at her house and find out. It’d be romantic.”

“And on that note,” James goes on, ignoring him, “shall we do presents?”

You all agree, and Sirius looks at James with an older brother’s entitlement. “Go ahead and distribute them, Prongsie.” 

James, well used to this, doesn’t even question it, scampering back and forth between the tree (which you can’t help but notice is somewhat lacking in the ornament department but quite sparkly) to deliver your presents at your feet. After a few rounds of this, you can’t stand it anymore and get up to help, laughing through the protests of your remaining three friends. (“He’s got it, love,” Remus says, and Sirius adds, “He’s got energy he needs to run off.”) Between the two of you, the bottom of the Christmas tree is bare within a couple of minutes, small piles of presents next to each of your friends. You go to sit back by the pile meant for you, touched at the fact that you seem to have something from every person there. 

“S’not fair that James and Lily get to do couple’s presents now,” Sirius complains. “I’m going to start buying gifts for you like you’re one person, see how you like it.” 

The biggest pile is obviously for Harry, and you all start there, no small amount of eagerness in James’ expression as he tears open the first box. “The Velveteen Rabbit,” he reads aloud. “Wow, this is kinda hefty for a children’s book.” 

“Who’s it from?” Lily prompts, as if you don’t all already know. 

“Shit, I forgot to check.” 

“And that’s why we read the box,” Lily says, and you get the sense this is a conversation that’s happened more than once, “before we start ripping, love.” 

“It was me,” Remus volunteers, lips pulling into a half-smile. 

“Course it was,” James says, taking a break from sticking his tongue out at his wife to smile at Remus. “Thanks, Moony.” 

“You had the opportunity to get him Goodnight Moon,” Sirius tsks, “and you just let it pass you by.” 

Remus rolls his eyes, but then Lily says, “He already has that one, it’s his favorite,” and you watch as he tries and fails to suppress the shy smile that takes him. It shifts the scars on his cheek and lights his eyes with a warm tenderness. 

He looks especially pretty under the Christmas lights, you think. The warm glow suits him, bringing out the amber in his eyes and richening the various brown shades of his hair. It makes his skin look softer too, smooth even where you know he has stubble around his jawline. You want suddenly to reach out and touch it. You’re glad you’re sitting too far from him to act on the urge. 

You’ve noticed Remus over the years, of course. It’d be impossible not to. You’ve always harbored a tiny crush on him, but you keep it shoved deep down in your gut where it can’t hurt anyone. You think the world of him, but you love your little group of friends more than anything else. You’re not unaware of the fact that Remus is a more crucial fixture in it than you are; if anything happened between you and it made things awkward for everyone, you’d be the one to go. 

“Oh, is this a hat?” Lily pulls something tawny brown from a box, and you realize they’ve gotten to your gift. “Oh my god, it has little antlers!”

You try not to smile too hard as she shows it to James and he coos, taking it from her hands.

“No way, he’ll be like our little Prongsie! I’m going to put it on him.” 

“Don’t wake him,” Lily warns, but James waves her off.

“He can sleep through anything,” he says, settling the baby beanie on Harry’s head. Sure enough, he doesn’t stir. 

“That’s so darling.” Lily presses a hand to her chest. “Y/N, where’d you get this?”

You feel your face heat and hope the lighting is hiding the bashfulness in your smile. “I made it,” you admit. “I know we’re already well into winter, but I hope he can still use it a little.” 

“Um, he’s never taking it off. Like, ever.” James leans around Lily to press a smacking kiss to your cheek. You laugh, trying not to shrink in on yourself from all the attention. “Thanks, love.” 

Once all the cooing over Harry’s presents is done, the rest of the gift opening proceeds with decidedly less fanfare, though no shortage of gratitude. You get a bunch of purple eyeliners from Sirius (you’d complained to him a few weeks ago that they’d stopped selling your old one, and he’d been thoughtful enough to find you options to help decide upon new one), a cookbook from James and Lily (“Now you can stop eating all those frozen meals,” James tells you with a meaningful look), and a set of mittens from Remus (“They’re alpaca,” he explains. “Supposed to be extra warm, and your hands are always freezing.”). The rest of your gifts are received happily too, and then Remus’ living room is covered with the wrapping paper Lily had tried but eventually given up on getting everyone to put in piles as they went and you’re all starting to yawn. 

“Alright,” Lily says after a while, “it’s well past Harry’s bedtime, and ours, and I’m sure Remus would like his flat back.” 

“Booo.” Sirius lays back on the couch, letting his head loll over the edge of the armrest. “Domestic life has made you lame, Evans-Potter.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” James drawls, gathering Harry against his chest, “I saw you yawning, Pads. Let’s go.” 

You stand with the rest of them, going to find your shoes by the door. “Thanks for everything, Remus,” you say. “It was great.” 

“For a first time hosting,” James allows, jokingly prideful, “I suppose you did a pretty decent job. Big shoes to fill, and all that.” 

Remus smiles, but it falters when his gaze settles on something behind you. “Are you all going to be alright getting home? It looks like it’s really picked up.” 

You follow his stare out the window. He’s not wrong. The unusually thick snowfall you’d arrived in has morphed into something that looks more like a blizzard, the wind whipping white across the black backdrop of sky outside Remus’ flat. 

James looks between the scene outside and his family once before seeming to make a decision. “Yeah, we’ll be alright,” he says, watching Lily as he talks. She nods her approval, and James’ voice becomes more solid. “We don’t have far to drive.”

Remus nods, still looking worried. His brows furrow as he turns to you. “What about you? Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah.” It’s the only answer in these situations, though you’re sure Remus would be alright with the alternative if you felt very strongly. “It doesn’t look too bad out there.” 

Remus casts another dubious glance out the window, and a particularly loud gust of wind whooshes past as if to spite you. “Are you sure? It looks fairly bad to me.” 

“Yeah,” James says, “don’t you live rather far?”

“It’s not that far,” you fib, at the same time as Remus says, “She does.” 

You laugh awkwardly, pulling on your coat “It’s not. Anyway, I’ve driven in a lot worse than this.”

Lily gives you a small smile. “That’s hardly reassuring.”

“You can stay here,” Remus offers, but you’re shaking your head before he’s even gotten the words out. 

“That’s sweet of you, but I can make it home.” You give him your most competent smile. “If I end up driving off the road and have to camp in my car, at least I’ll have fantastic mittens to keep the frostbite from my hands.” 

He gives you a deadpan look. “While I’m glad you’re excited to use my gift, I’d rather if it didn’t come to that.”

“You can’t get in a crash and die on Christmas,” Sirius says. “It’d be, like, a massive downer for us every year.” 

“I’ll be fine,” you insist. 

“Babe, I don’t care if we have to lock you in here,” James says, frowning in a way that doesn’t look particularly formidable when he’s swaying back and forth to rock Harry on his chest. “There’s no way you can drive all the way to your place in this.” 

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, wrapping your scarf.

“Okay, you know I would never usually say this,” Lily says, gnawing on her lip as she watches the snow blow past outside, “but I think you should listen to the boys. It looks too scary out there to drive that far.” 

“It’s…” You look between them, your argument dying of fruitlessly on your tongue. James seems prepared to blockade you inside Remus’ flat, and even Lily’s giving you a stern look. Your gaze lands on Remus, and the last of your resistance melts away.

“You really should stay here,” he says kindly. “Actually, I’d feel a lot better if you did. Okay?”

You sigh, slipping your scarf back over your head. “Okay.” 

“Phew!” Sirius says, pulling you into a one-armed hug. “Glad that’s settled. See you all soon, thanks for Christmas Moony!” 

“He’s so tired,” Lily says after Sirius is out the door. 

“Wiped,” James agrees, adjusting his grip on Harry so that he can wrap one arm around Remus’ neck. Remus leans down into the awkward hug, begrudgingly fond as he pats his friend on the back, then kisses Lily on the cheek when James moves to you. 

“Thanks for the gifts,” James says, grinning down at Harry’s knit antlers after he releases you. “He’s never taking this off.” 

“He means it.” Lily sends her husband a look as fond as it is weary as she hugs you. “I’ll probably have to bathe Harry while James is asleep so he doesn’t catch him without it.” 

Your face is feeling hot again. “I’m glad you like it,” you say with a little shrug, but your friends are used to your shyness and only smile and wave on their way out. 

And then the door shuts, and you and Remus are left alone in the quiet. 

“Are you tired?” he asks you, moving back into the living room. Lily had sneakily taken care of a good deal of the cleanup, but there’s still a few half-empty glasses of eggnog strewn about which Remus begins gathering. 

“Not really,” you answer honestly, beating him to the sink and forcing him to hand you the glasses to wash. “Are you?”

“No,” he agrees. The look he shoots you has to be the gentlest form malice has ever taken as he takes up the dish towel and stations himself beside you. “Fancy a film?”

“Mm, a Christmas film?”

“Obviously.” 

The dishes are finished quickly thanks to Lily’s interference, and Remus makes you some hot cocoa while you scroll through movies, calling out possibilities. The only conflict between you is your equal complaisance to whatever the other prefers, and you eventually settle on the first one you’d seen just to put an end to it. You take your cocoa gladly when Remus passes it to you, blowing gently while he settles a blanket over the both of you. Your knees are curled towards him and he has one leg crossed over the other, angling him towards you. 

The first few minutes of the film are spent in that contented quietude that the two of you so often fall into when you’re alone together, but then Remus asks you, “What is it?”

You look over at him. “Hm?”

“You’re frowning.”

“Oh.” You laugh. “I’m just thinking about snow.” 

His lips quirk. “It is kind of the bane of your existence tonight, isn’t it?”

“No.” You smile down at your hands, hoping it's not obvious how not unpleasant you find your circumstances at the moment. “That’s not it. I was thinking, I kind of hate how it always has to snow in these movies. It makes any Christmas where it doesn’t snow feel like it’s not up to par. Or not quintessential enough, or something.”

“Mm, I see.” Remus looks back to the screen, considering. “Does that make this your quintessential Christmas, then? Are we living up to the movie standard?”

You watch him while he watches the TV, blue light cast over his handsome features. “I guess so,” you say.

The longer you sit there, the closer you get. You blame it on the late hour, your bodies relaxing towards each other on the couch. Remus’ arm brushes yours when he lifts his mug for a sip, and your knees dig into his thigh under the blanket. Soon you’ve drooped enough that you’re leaning nearly entirely against him. You don’t notice until Remus puts an arm around you to encourage your head to his shoulder. You tense but don’t sit up, and eventually his head comes to rest atop yours. 

“Are you crying?” he murmurs during a scene near the end. 

Your reply is equally soft, not wanting to jostle either Remus’ head or his shoulder with your speech movements. “I really like this part.” 

“You know how it ends. It’s going to be okay.” 

“I know.” You sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe your face now that you’ve been caught. “I know it is. It’s just really profound.” 

“Sure it is.”

“It’s the spirit of Christmas, Remus. Goodwill to man.” 

“Okay.” He rubs your shoulder, and you pretend not to feel his shaking with quiet laughter. “Okay, I agree with you.” 

A while later: “You’re tired,” he accuses.

You hum a denial.

“Sweetheart” —your stomach flutters, and there’s a jolt somewhere behind your ribcage; you ignore it— “you’re practically falling asleep right here.”

“Are you tired?” 

He shifts slightly, stubble tickling your forehead. “No. But you are.” 

“I want to finish the movie.” 

He seems to debate this for a moment, then his shoulder relaxes beneath you. “Alright.” 

Soon the credits start. Neither of you move. 

You let your head slump more heavily onto his shoulder. “Your place really does look lovely. Thanks for having me.”

“Of course, love.” You can feel his smile squish up against the top of your head. “Would you go so far as to say my hosting measures up to James’?”

You chuckle, gesturing to yourself. “I’d say you’ve gone above and beyond, for sure.” 

Remus laughs too. “Perfect. Tell him so, would you?”

You’re going to agree when a great yawn takes you. You keep it quiet, but there’s no avoiding the way your chin digs into Remus’ shoulder, your shoulders rising with the prolonged inhale. He moves away from you. 

“Ready for bed?” He smiles down at you as you run a knuckle under your eyes, collecting tears from your lashes. 

You shrug an admittance. “Sort of. But I don’t want to kick you out of your own living room if you’re not tired yet.”

“No, I’m pretty wiped too,” he says. “Anyway, I’m the one kicking you out. You’re staying in my room.” 

You had a feeling he would say something like that. You grab a throw pillow, getting situated with your head near the armrest. “No, I’m not.” 

His laugh is disbelieving. “Yeah, you are. You’re my guest, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.” 

You tug the blanket off his lap, curling up with your pillow stubbornly. “I’m not going to steal your bed. You’ve already done so much. You’ve helped me try gingerbread cookies and given me nice mittens and hosted an amazing Christmas. Let me sleep on your couch, please.” 

“While I appreciate all that,” he says, “no.” 

“Remus.” You’re near pleading at this point. “Your back will hurt.”

“Your back will hurt.” 

“Not as badly as yours.” You give him a hard look. “I’m not taking your bed.” 

There’s a brief silence, terser than your usual ones but no more awkward for it. You stare each other down. 

“Right,” Remus says, reclaiming the remote from where he’d set it on the coffee table. “I suppose we’d better start another movie, then.”

“Remus, come on.” You sit up, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge. “You’ve just said you’re tired. Go to bed, please.”

The TV flickers back on. “I’m not leaving this couch.” 

“Well, neither am I,” you laugh, completely serious. 

He rolls his eyes, then snuggles up to you under the blanket. You take this as a sign that he’s not really very cross with you.

“You’re much more argumentative than usual tonight, you know that?”

You huff, laying your head back on his shoulder. “I could say the same about you.” 

“True, but I know I’ll win out in the end.” 

“You can think that if you like.” 

“Want to watch this one next?”

“Sure.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Remus watches as your eyes drift closed, then twitch back open, over and over again. He thinks his bony shoulder is the only thing keeping you from falling over the precipice of sleep. If he were James Potter, he’d simply pick you up with ease and carry you to his bed, but Remus can’t say he’s entirely sorry for this extra time with you, even if neither of you are awake enough to make much conversation.

Silly as it sounds, he enjoys just sitting here with you nearly as much as talking. Your cheek squished into his shoulder, your legs curled up atop his. You’re warm and weighty against him. 

He should have known it would be a hopeless endeavor trying to get you to agree to take the bed. You’re a gentle thing by nature, but stubborn in your selflessness. Even if you had gone, Remus knows he wouldn’t have slept all night anyway, too preoccupied with thoughts of you all wrapped up in his sheets, your face pressed to his pillow, getting your shampoo smell on the pillowcase. He doesn’t know if it smells like him (does he have a smell?), but he would have wondered all night if it does, if you were noticing. 

Your head nearly rolls off his shoulder, and a pitying sound escapes Remus when you jerk awake to set it right. He lets his head rest on yours so it doesn’t happen again. Your eyelids droop closed almost immediately, and Remus begins dragging his thumb across your shoulder blade, a nice, slow back-and-forth. You’re quiet for a long while. 

“Are you trying to put me to sleep?” you murmur, words all sloshed together. 

It’s a conscious effort not to let his thumb slow. “No,” he says. 

You hum. 

“Unless you mean it’s working.” 

Another long silence. “It’s not,” you reply, head growing heavier on his shoulder.  

He chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed, hm?” 

“You go to bed,” you mumble, and if he thought you were capable of it he’d say there was some bitterness lining your words. 

Remus sighs. “You’re too nice for your own good,” he tells you. 

“No,” you reply, softly, plainly, like it’s a fact, “that’s you.” 

He picks his head up off of yours to see your face. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm.” Your eyes are closed. You don’t know he’s looking. Your face is wholly relaxed, no hint of pretense about you. “You’re the best I know.” 

Something warm and wheedling works its way through Remus’ ribs to the soft gooey core of him.

“Well,” he tells you honestly, “you’re the best I know.”

You seem unconcerned. “Another impasse for us.” 

He actually laughs at that, instantly guilty when it jostles you on his shoulder and your eyelids peel apart. He can’t regret it, though, when you look at him the way you do. You’re glowing in the light coming off the tree, soft and warm and lovely, and yet you’re looking at him like he’s the only place your eyes want to go. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

You come gradually more awake, eyebrows twitching towards each other just slightly. “Remus,” you murmur, and he finally does what he’s been wanting to since you’d shown up at his door hours ago. He kisses you. 

Your lips are pliable, parting for his almost instantly, like you’d been waiting. His hand coasts from your shoulder to cup the back of your head, keeping you close as your nose slides against his. You both all but fall back onto the bed you’d made yourself on the couch. He’s careful not to put too much of his weight on you, but when his tongue brushes across the inside of your lip and you inhale, he draws back. 

“I...” He pants into the space between you. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

You make a sound that’s half hum, half whine, and bump your chin up into his. 

Remus loses himself again with frightening quickness. It’s even better now that you seem more sure, your mouth asking, coaxing against his. You taste like gingerbread. A low, embarrassing sound pries free from the back of his throat when you wind your fingers into the hair at his nape, and he slips his free hand beneath your back, getting as close to you as he can. Your legs make room for him automatically, knees tipping open so he can slot between them.

“Do you—” you breathe when his attentions move downward, tilting your head to the side to grant access as he mouths at the skin just under your jaw. “Do you want this?” 

The word leaves him in a soft exhale, muffled against your skin. “Yes.”

You swallow. He feels the movement in your throat. “Are you sure?”

His eyelashes brush your jaw as his kisses slow, become more tender, more intentional. “Lovely girl,” he murmurs. “You’re silly, you know that?” His mouth meanders it’s way over to your pulse, getting stuck there and sucking at your skin lazily. “I mean, you’re smart.” The words are all mushed up against you. Noticeably amused. Remus quit the eggnog hours ago, yet he feels half drunk. “You’re really smart, honey, but you can be so oblivious sometimes.” 

You don’t respond, and as much as he loves the sound of your voice, he’s hoping your silence is in his favor right now. He wants you wrapped up in him, wants to engross you so completely you forget how to form your lips around speech. 

“Do you want to move to my room?” 

You take a breath. Fuck, even the sound of you breathing is nearly enough to undo him. He moves back to your mouth as if to intercept it, nipping at your lower lip. 

“Is this a ploy to get me off the couch?” 

“You’re relentless.”

Your lips curve against his, and he mirrors them without thinking. You stay quiet.

“Fine. I promise it’s not, okay?” 

Your laugh is fizzy like champagne, and it warms Remus’ chest like it too. “Okay,” you say in that lovely voice. “Okay, let’s go.” 

❆ ❆ ❆

You always thought Remus was all softness. He’s made up of soft looks, soft colors, and hair that you can now confirm is soft as dandelion fluff. But this night has defied your expectations in a thousand ways. And your Remus, soft, gentle, kindhearted Remus, is scraping at your throat with his teeth. 

You have to suck your lip between your teeth to keep from making a humiliatingly desperate sound when he passes his tongue over his work, another crescent moon that’s sure to be purple by morning. Your hands are beseeching in his dandelion fluff hair, keeping him close while his hands are busy lower, one gripping the fat of your hip while the other drags tantalizingly slow up and down your side. He’s kissing you like you have all the time in the world, sometimes rough but no more urgent for it, and you’re breathy and molten and useless beneath him. 

You’re brimming with adoration and something else too. Something that you think you could almost identify—you’ve felt it before, but never like this. 

“What do you want to do?” There’s a raspy quality to Remus’ voice that would send you to your knees if he hadn’t already taken them out from under you. He dots leisurely, open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, soothing over spots he’s already nipped and sucked into oblivion. Your head feels fuzzy. “Sweetheart?” 

Christ, is he trying to send you into cardiac arrest? Remus doesn’t stop kissing you even at your silence, finding your lip still held between your teeth and encouraging it free with his own. You try to remember what he’d asked you. What do you want to do? You have no idea. Where would you even start? You want him to keep talking to you in that raspy voice, that’s for sure. You want…you want to keep kissing him, to know what his hands would do if you let them beneath your clothes. You want to keep investigating this warm feeling in your gut. See where it takes you. 

Remus’ kisses slow, then stop. He pulls back to look at you. In the dim street light coming in through the window, you wonder what he sees.

“You alright?” His voice is soft, gentle, saying it’s okay if you’re not without saying it. 

You take a breath. It shakes a little on the way out, but you don’t think he can tell. “Yeah, I’m good. Just nervous. But not in a bad way.” Nervous-happy. 

“Don’t be,” he implores, lips brushing your cheek. “It’s only me.”

Exactly, you think. It’s you. 

“What do you want to do?” You turn his own question back on him. 

His smile is tinged with bashfulness. “I mean, whatever you’re alright with.” There’s a tentative quietness to his voice. “Have you…”

If it were possible for you to get any warmer, embarrassment would do it. “No,” you say, shrinking away from him though there’s nowhere to go. Whatever the end to that question might be, the answer is no. 

“That’s okay,” he says quickly, dropping another kiss on the corner of your mouth like a cure-all remedy. “That’s okay, you just tell me if you want to stop, yeah? If you don’t like something, or you want to slow down—anything at all, you let me know.” He kisses you again, further up on your burning cheek. “Okay?” 

You swallow. “Okay.” 

“Don’t be nervous.” He says it like a promise, hand stroking your side again as if to soothe you. His lips find your shoulder, nosing the fabric of your sleeve. “Can I take this off, lovely?” 

You nod, words all stoppered up in your throat, then realize he can’t see you and do it yourself. He has to pause as it comes off, taking the opportunity to do away with his own sweater. He tosses it onto the floor beside the bed. You do the same, and your bra quickly follows. You’d always thought (largely influenced, admittedly, by trashy novels) that this was the part where the guy stops what he’s doing and openly oggles the shirtless woman in front of him, but Remus has seen tits before and wastes no time in getting his mouth back on yours, pressing you into the mattress.

His skin is as heated as yours, the areas where you touch deliciously warm despite the cold still whipping past his bedroom window. You allow yourself one sweeping, appreciative pass over the muscles on Remus’ back before your hands go to your bottoms, shimmying them down your legs. A long-fingered hand finds the exposed skin of your thigh and kneads reverently. You swallow Remus’ groan. He kisses you more deeply, long, savoring passes of his tongue along the inside of your mouth until his lips move downward. 

One hand stays at your hip while the other strokes up and down your thigh, spit cooling in a path down your stomach. You try to relax as he passes your navel, but the anticipation is hard to shake. You’re nearly trembling when he kneels between your legs, kissing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. 

“Is this okay?” he murmurs. 

It’s all you can do to nod, gasping when his teeth drag over one of the stretch marks there. You clutch at the sheets above your head like a lifeline. 

“We can stop anytime you want.” 

You inhale raggedly. “No,” you manage. Your breathlessness is obvious in the quiet room. “I want—I want to keep going.” You pause. “Do you?”

You can hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, love, that sounds good to me.” 

Good, you’re about to say, but Remus’ next kiss lands on your slit, and your voice withers and dies in your throat. He uses a hand to push one of your legs out further while bringing the other over his shoulder, spreading you open. His breath fans hot over your cunt.

You’re writhing at the first broad stroke of his tongue. He wraps his fingers around the outside of your thigh, keeping you still while placating you at the same time. 

Remus takes his time, lapping experimentally at your entrance before making his way upwards. You gasp as his tongue skims over your clit, burrowing your hand in his hair before hesitating. 

“Is this okay?” you ask. 

His hummed assent has you tightening your grasp. He brushes over your clit one more time, and when this gets a similar reaction from you, begins sucking on it gently. You’re panting, and Remus has to move his grip to your hip to hold you in place, squeezing indulgently at the fat there while he narrows in on what you like. Before long you’re trembling all over, tugging feebly at his hair as you squeeze your eyes shut against the odd sort of bliss that’s taking you under. 

“Remus,” you breathe, and it’s a miracle that he hears you but he does, raising his head with a lewd suctioning sound. 

Remus looks at you questioningly with eyes almost all pupil. 

“Come here,” you plead. 

He obeys, crawling back up you to peck at your bitten lips. “Doing alright?” he asks you.

“Yeah,” you promise. You cup his head in one hand and wrap your leg over the back of his as if to prevent him from leaving. “Just wanted to kiss you.” 

You feel him smile against your lips. He slots his mouth over yours, and you dedicate yourself to his top lip. He tastes like sex, braver now as he explores your mouth. He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, and you make a high, breathy sound. His grip on you tightens. 

“Do you think—can we—”

He hesitates, kissing softly at the corner of your lips. “Are you sure?” 

“I want to. Do you?” 

Remus actually laughs, muffling the sound against your cheek. “Yeah, I fucking want to. I’ve wanted to forever.” 

You can’t think about that. Think about that and you’ll fall to pieces. 

He noses affectionately at the underside of your jaw, slipping down you once again to stand at the end of the bed. He steps out of his pants and grabs a condom from the drawer of his nightstand. “You’ll tell me if I do anything you don’t like, yeah?” 

“Mhm,” you promise, anticipation coiling up snugly with that other thing in your stomach. They don’t feel all that distinct from one another. 

“Alright,” he says, palm slipping under your thigh. “Can I lift this up, love?” 

You nod, and he grasps the soft underside of your knee, bringing your leg up to your stomach as he lines up. You gasp as he pushes in slowly, watching your face to make sure you’re doing okay. You’re already slick and worked open from his mouth, but it’s still a bit shocking.

His thumb strokes beside your knee as your walls adjust to the size of him. “How’s that feel?” 

“Good,” you say honestly. There’s a note of desperation to your voice. “I can—more, please.” 

He’s quick to accommodate you, pushing deeper as he folds himself over you to recapture your lips. Your breaths shallow. His free hand moves to your breast, kneading gently at the soft flesh. He gives it a firm squeeze at the same time as he moves inside you, and you nearly bite Remus’ lip off, a half-suppressed keening sound escaping you. 

“So good,” he mumbles. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Taking it so well.” He lifts his head, kissing your temple. “Think you can handle a bit more?” 

Your response is barely more than breath, but he catches the affirmation, pressing another firm kiss to your forehead before he bottoms out inside of you. Your head lolls back, fuzzy with the strange pain and even stranger pleasure. Remus tightens his grip on your leg to keep it up, dotting kisses down the side of your face. 

“Good girl,” he says hoarsely. “Still doing okay, lovely?” 

“Yeah,” you say, somewhat dizzy. “Remus, it feels so good.” 

“Good,” he croons. “It should feel good, love. Ready for me to move?”

“Mhm.”

He pulls out slowly, dragging against your sensitive walls. He starts mouthing at your neck again before he pushes back inside you, filling you up all over again. A slew of expletives roll out of your mouth, unbidden and entirely unlike you, as Remus begins pumping your breast again, the rhythm matching that of his thrusts. He sucks the flesh of your neck between his teeth, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to repress what promises to be a high-pitched and deeply mortifying sound. 

Remus praises you amply, soft kisses and reverent touches and a raspy “Fuck, sweetheart, just like that.” Your head floats or swims or both, your body tensed all over and yet completely plaint to Remus’ touch. He moves back to your mouth, discovering your bottom lip held captive between your teeth. 

“Come, don’t do that,” he chides, easing it free with gentle kisses. “Let me hear you, bet you sound so pretty.” 

The Welsh accent that’s grown faint after years of living away from home is emerging now, as is the crude vocabulary it's tied to in memory, a host of barely comprehensible profanities spewing from Remus’ lips when you clench on him again. His grip tightens on your tit, and a moan tears from the back of your throat. 

“That’s it,” he praises, head dipping to kiss the soft spot he’s found underneath your ear. “There you are, lovely girl.” 

The coil in your core grows impossibly tighter, your thighs quivering as you approach a peak you’ve never known before. Remus feels it, cooing softly even as he drives into you harder.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” You nod dazedly. “Good, good, just let it happen, I’ve got you.” 

“Come here,” you demand again. He wastes no time in obliging you.

He kisses your lips sore as you dig your nails into his shoulders, pulling his body flush against yours, the feeling inside you growing so great you don’t know where to put it, don’t know if you can contain it. You can’t remember ever feeling this close to someone, Remus’ touch the only thing keeping you from hurtling off some unknown precipice.

“Let go,” he urges, and you do. You trust him to catch you. 

It’s bliss like you’ve never known. You cry out, and Remus’ hand slides down from your breast to spread wide and flat against your ribs. Steadying. He kisses soothingly at your jaw as you gasp and pant your way back to him, grip slackening on his shoulders. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, though you really haven’t done much at all. 

“Are you—” You swallow, choking on the emotion that’s risen unbidden in your throat. “Are you close?” 

Remus smiles, coming back to your lips like he can’t help himself. He pecks you once, twice. “Sweetheart, I’m more than close. I’ve barely been holding myself together since you kissed me.” 

Well, he’d actually kissed you, but you’ll take the compliment anyway. 

“Do you think you’ll be alright if I move again?” he asks. “It’s alright if not.” 

“You can,” you say, leaning up on your elbows to see him better. “Is there…anything I can do to help?”

The smile fades from Remus’ face, leaving something far more tender in its wake. “Just, keep looking at me like that?” He says it almost like he’s embarrassed, voice quiet with supplication. 

You want to tell him you’d never needed asking to look at him, but you don’t, keeping your eyes on his obediently as he pumps into you. He really must have been close, because he’s cursing again not long after, accent twisting his syllables with a gruff pleasure. Your walls contract at the movement, still sensitive, and that’s all it takes. Remus digs his fingers into your waist and makes sounds you’re sure you’ll dream about, panting, breathy moans you sit up to smother against your lips. He follows you back down onto the mattress, mouth slotted against your own. You hold him to you until his breaths even and his grip on you loosens. 

“Was that alright?” he asks, some of the rasp still lingering in his voice. 

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, dizzy with affection. “Yeah, it was good,” you promise him. Understatement of the year. “Really good, Rem.” 

“Good,” he echoes, lips brushing the skin under your eye. You don’t know how you know, but you can feel the amusement building in him just before he asks, “Tired yet?”

You guffaw. The force of it jostles him on top of you, and his lips curve against your cheek.

“A little bit, yeah.”

Actually, you hadn’t realized how exhausting sex would be. If it didn’t mean having to take your eyes off Remus, you’d have closed them and passed out by now. 

“Good,” he says again, hands sliding down your waist as he moves to stand again. You make a small sound as he shifts, and Remus shushes you, slipping out from inside you. You watch fascinatedly as he removes the condom, sticky with cum. He tosses it in the wastebasket under his desk and walks away from you.

“Hey,” you protest. “You’d better not be sneaking off to sleep on the couch.” 

His chuckle echoes in the bathroom, followed by the sound of a cabinet opening. “So mistrustful,” he says when he comes back in with a damp towel. “What’ve I done to arouse such suspicion?” 

Your fuzzy brain gets stuck on the word arouse in his teasing tone, and it takes you a second to answer. “Well, I’m here and a blink away from falling asleep, so you tell me.” 

“Fair enough.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, taking your thigh in his grasp to move it aside. “Alright if I clean you up, love?” 

You startle, coming up on your elbows to see where Remus is holding the towel between your legs. “I didn’t realize it’d be so messy,” you admit. “You don’t have to, though, I can do it myself.” 

“I don’t mind,” he says, thumb soothing over your knee. “S’my mess anyway.” He seems to have not quite agreed with himself to say that last part aloud, a blush spreading over his cheeks. 

“Sure,” you say, mostly to alleviate his embarrassment. You let your weight lean more heavily on your elbows, trying your best to look relaxed. “Sure, if you’re alright with it.” 

“Might be a bit sensitive,” he warns. You’d guessed as much, but it's worth it for all the praises he rains down upon you as he works, finishing with a kiss to the side of your knee. 

You miss him humiliatingly when he goes to the bathroom again to discard the towel. It’s all you can do not to reach for him when he comes back, but luckily Remus reads your mind anyway, slipping under the covers and tugging you to him until his lips rest against your forehead. 

“That was really great,” you tell him. 

“I thought so too.” 

“You’ll stay here, right?” 

A low laugh. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m staying here.” 

❆ ❆ ❆

Remus hasn’t known anyone to sleep in longer than Sirius, but you seem to be vying for his title. The sun has long since passed above his windows when Remus wakes, and still he has time to spend idle hours marveling at the closeness of you. His nose is cold above the covers, but everywhere your bodies are pressed together is warm, your palm flat against his chest and one of your legs wormed between his own. Your fingers twitch as you dream. 

It has to be early afternoon by the time he rises, slipping his hand carefully from beneath you and plodding into the kitchen. The blanket is still on the couch where you left it, throw pillow creased with your indentation. Your mugs are discarded on the coffee table with globs of once-hot cocoa stuck to the bottom. Bright light refracts off the snow outside and into his kitchen, making everything look shiny new. 

Remus puts on the kettle first, letting that warm up while he rifles through the cabinets for his big mixing bowl and starts whisking together ingredients. A bird chirps outside as the kettle gurgles, and somehow the peace of Remus’ kitchen feels more complete knowing that you’re sleeping just down the hall. 

Until, apparently, you’re not. Your footsteps are so silent he startles when you appear, still blinking yourself awake as you cross your arms over the sweater you’ve thrown on with your bottoms from the night before. Remus’ sweater. And Remus had thought he’d come to terms with the idea of you here, in his apartment like the best Christmas gift of all time, but apparently not, because his heart stutters and stops at the sight of you. 

He’d thought you’d looked adorable in the soft glow of the Christmas lights the night before, and again tucked into his sheets this morning, but you’re almost ethereal now. Sunlight bathes the planes of your face and gleams off your hair, making you appear almost like you’re emanating the bright light rather than standing in it. You smile at him, seraphim. 

“Morning. Sorry I didn’t ask,” you say, fingering the hem of Remus’ sweater. “I was cold and you were gone, I hope you don’t mind.” 

Mind? Remus can’t even think. 

“Course not,” he manages, but just barely. It’s more an exhale than a statement. “Did you sleep alright?” 

“Really well,” you say. His sleeves cover your fingers as you rest your elbows on the counter, and your gaze has gone a bit shy again, but Remus can hardly blame you. You both seemed to have experienced unusual nerve the night before. He only hopes you aren’t regretting your part in it. And now that he’s had some time to think, he hopes even more that you’d truly wanted it in the first place. “Did you?” 

“Yeah, thanks.”

You lean a bit closer in a way that he doubts either of you are even slightly unaware of, peering into the mixing bowl. “What’re you making?” 

“I’m experimenting,” he says, though he wishes now he weren’t. He wanted to make you something good, but his confidence in his adaptation is waning now that you’re in the room. He should have gone with something basic, tried-and-true. “Or, I’m attempting. Gingerbread pancakes?” 

His voice crawls up into a question, as if he really has no idea what it is he’s trying to make (maybe that’s closer to the truth), but Remus’ regrets vanish instantly at the genuine elation that lights your expression. 

“Really?” 

A laugh startles out of him, giddy. “Yeah, does that sound alright?” 

“More than alright,” you declare with full seriousness, seating yourself at the bar counter. “That sounds amazing, Rem, thank you. Merlin, I owe you so big for all of this.” 

“I think you’ve more than made it up to me.” It slips out without permission, Remus too high on the flow of your conversation to filter the words through his brain before they reach his mouth. His loathsome, traitorous mouth. “I mean, I’m sorry—fuck, that sounds awful—I only meant that I’ve had a really good time with you here. I’m glad you stayed.” 

Your eyes have widened. Remus expects his face is about five shades pinker than normal. 

“Not that I’m only glad because of—or, I’m always glad to have you. As a friend, too.” 

There’s a tiny pinch in your features, gone before he can diagnose it. Somehow, you seem even more uncomfortable. “Right.” You give him a thin smile. It’s a hearty attempt, but you’re too genuine a soul to fake it. Remus hates himself for it. “As a friend.” 

They’re his own words, but hearing them from your mouth and with that piss-poor smile feels like having a fire poker jammed between his ribs. 

With his track record this morning, Remus really should be taking a vow of silence, but he can’t seem to stop himself. “Just friends, then?” Hesitance makes his voice sound quiet even in the silent kitchen. He looks down, stirring the batter to avoid watching the answer take form on your face. 

“I mean,” your tone is a match to his, “is that what you want?” 

A short, soft laugh escapes him. “I think I made what I want fairly clear last night.” 

There’s a short silence. “I thought I did, too.” 

It’s a conscious effort to keep stirring. Had you? Remus had kissed you, he’d brought you to his room, he’d been the one to ask if you wanted to do more. And you’d been game for it all, sure, but he can’t help but wonder if you were just going along with him. If maybe you’d thought it was just a fuck, something to pass the time while you were both snowed in, no strings attached. Remus could understand that. He could disentangle the strings from last night if it’s what you want. But he’s liked you for years. He could love you oh so easily. He’s practically teetering on the edge of it already, though you’ve only been friends all this time. 

Remus spoons some batter into a waiting pan on the stove. He’s debating asking what exactly it is that you thought you’d made clear when you speak again. 

“I understand if it’s too much for you.” Your voice is quiet. He looks up, and your shoulders are hunched as if you’re trying to hide yourself. You shrink further under his gaze. “We can stay just friends if it’s…if that’s what you want. I want whatever’s easier for you.” Your next words are so impossibly soft, Remus has to strain to hear them over the low sizzling of the pancake batter. “I really want you to stay in my life.” 

“What?” It’s a staccato, loud enough that it surprises you both, Remus stepping toward you while you nearly flinch back. “Sorry.” His hand goes up, reaching into the space between you as if he can soothe you from feet away. He lowers his volume. “Sorry, I just—I didn’t realize that was even on the table. I would never want to not be in your life.” 

“I just mean that I don’t want to make things weird for you, or for everyone else—”

“Hey.” He manages to cross the distance this time, his hand landing on your wrist atop the counter. Remus isn’t sure why he needs it there so desperately, but he suddenly feels much better. “There is nothing that could make any of us not want to be friends with you. I can speak for everyone in that regard. Okay?” 

You look at him consideringly for a moment. Remus holds your stare, letting you see his certainty.

“Okay,” you echo, sounding unsure. He’ll deal with that later, he decides.

“Okay,” he says once more, and it’d almost be firm if it weren’t so gentled by the tenderness he can never seem to get rid of around you. Even so, what he says next doesn’t sound particularly tender. It’s not very kind to you, he knows, but Remus is selfish, and he feels (selfishly) like he’s done his part already. He tries to phrase it as nicely as he can. “Can you tell me what it is that you want, please?” 

You try to shrink again, and Remus’ grip tightens on your wrist instinctually as if to keep you from running off. He swipes his thumb over your skin apologetically.

“Remus, come on.” You sound almost upset, but it’s hard to tell with your voice so quiet. “I know I’m not that good at—at covering myself up. I must have hearts in my eyes half the time I look at you.” 

Remus would give a month’s rent to know what you can see in his eyes right now. Even if he’d been hoping for an answer something like that, he hadn’t expected it. And for you to act like it’s been obvious…he does his best to think back. 

You’ve always been a shy thing. It had taken James months to get you to be remotely yourself around them, and though you’d seemed to warm to Remus first, you’d always retained some of your bashfulness when you were alone together. He’d chalked it up to the result of two people, quiet by nature, with no wildly extroverted James or Sirius or Lily to run interference. 

You’ve always been kind to him, but you’re kind to everyone. How is anyone supposed to suspect favoritism from a soul as indiscriminately sweet as yours? 

He recalls your voice last night, thin and reedy and fragile as the cattails that had bordered the creek behind his house as a kid. Wary of getting swept along by the current, but willing to go if Remus would take you. Do you want this?

He’d called you oblivious for asking. How could you wonder, when he’d been the one to kiss you and has probably been looking like he wanted to for years? He’s certainly been thinking about it for as long. But perhaps your obliviousness is another congruity between the two of you. 

So much for opposites attract. 

“I think I’m an idiot,” he says, and mercifully, a smile far more real than the last sneaks onto your face. 

“You are not,” you reply, ever forgiving. 

“Don’t tell Sirius,” he warns, “but I really think I am.” His voice drops to a more earnest register. “I had no idea, love, I’m sorry. Maybe you’re better at hiding things than you thought. But if you don’t want to be friends, I don’t want to either.” Remus hesitates. “Or, I always want to be your friend, just—”

“Remus?” 

Finally. Someone needs to stop him. “Yeah?” 

“Your pancake…”

He turns to find a thin spire of smoke rising from the pan. “Oh, fuck.” He grabs a spatula and quickly flips the pancake, but there’s no saving it. The bottom side is completely blackened. It’s inedible. “Sorry, I…I’m not sure I have enough batter for much more.” 

“It’s fine.” There’s laughter in your tone, and that’s more than enough to make up for it. “It was a really sweet thought, that’s what matters anyway.” 

Remus turns to find you’ve slipped out of your seat and are standing uncertainly on the threshold of the kitchen. His heart warms with incandescent, aching fondness. 

“Would you come here?” he asks. 

You comply with an eagerness he wonders how he’s never noticed before, stepping forward to let him fold you into his arms. Your wrists cross over his mid back and the tip of his nose mushes into your hair as he touches his lips to the top of your head. He can’t believe he could have been holding you like this all along if only he hadn’t been so thick. He supposes he’ll have to make up for it now. 

“Let’s do away with asking about want, does that sound alright?” He rubs lightly between your shoulder blades, wonders if you like the feel of his breath on your forehead. “How about you tell me if anything comes up that you don’t want, and I’ll do the same.”

“Yeah.” Remus knows he likes the feel of your voice on his skin, your chin moving against his chest. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

“Good.” He smiles, pressing another kiss to your head. “Okay, should we venture out to find something for breakfast? Or lunch, I suppose it is by now.” 

You ease out of his arms. “I really should go home.” There’s an apology already embedded in your tone, but you add one anyway. “Sorry, but my cat’s been there all night by herself, so…”

“Right.” Remus ignores the dull throb behind his sternum, which is really a bit dramatic. He’ll see you soon, surely. “Yeah, that makes sense. Think you’ll be able to drive?” 

“I mean, I looked outside.” You shrug, backing towards where you’d hung your coat the night before. “The roads here are cleared, which I hope means they’ve gotten to most of them already.” 

“That’s good,” he says, though he feels the opposite. Your poor cat, he’s pitted completely against her now. She’s done nothing to deserve the resentment he’s directing at her, almost petulant in his malcontent. “Good, good.” 

You’re both silent as you put on your shoes, your scarf. It’s not unusual for the two of you, but it lacks its usual easy contentedness. Your eyes flit up as you pull on your new gloves, a silent thanks in them that you know Remus won’t let you voice aloud again. Despite the upset in his chest, he smiles. 

“I…listen, I have to go home,” you tell him, looking down as you wriggle your fingers more snugly into the gloves. “I have to feed my cat. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to…leave.” 

Remus can’t see how that changes anything, but he recognizes it for the olive branch it is. You’re both so uncertain, and you’re trying to alleviate his worries about what you leaving right now means. He can return the favor. 

“I don’t want you to leave either,” he says, “but I get it. She seems important to you, best to keep her fed.” 

“Exactly.” You smile, relieved. “But, I mean, if you’re not doing anything, you could come meet her? We could pick up breakfast on the way. Or I could make you something there.” 

Remus can’t believe his luck. And, once again, his stupidity in not getting there himself. Why is it that all of a sudden, everything that has to do with you seems so absurdly difficult? At least one of you is thinking clearly. 

“Yeah, that would be fantastic.” He’s grinning hugely, totally unlike him but liking it very much. “Let me grab my coat.” 

“Wait.” There’s a newly familiar breathless quality to your voice, and when Remus turns you’re already coming forward to meet him. Your palm slides against the stubble along his jaw as you stretch your neck, kissing him sweetly on the lips. “There,” you say, timidity shrouded beneath a good layer of happiness, “now we’re even.” 

Remus laughs, loud and startled. He wants to be generous with you, he really does, but he still thinks you’re far from even. “I’m not sure about that, sweetheart,” he says warmly, pressing a brief kiss to the corner of your eyebrow, “but we'll get there.” 

[juniperskye]

Passenger Princess.

This is just a lil blurb about being Aaron’s passenger princess – because with him, you NEVER have to drive.

Hotch x Reader

Word count: 434

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, reader is gender neutral but is describes as a passenger princess lol. Jack is mentioned, Aaron is a control freak

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed.

Aaron Hotchner does not ride shotgun. I’d like to think that it is simply due to his need to take care of others, but I think the real reason is that he needs to feel in control.

He loves having you in the car with him, he will rest his hand on your thigh or hold your hand as he can throughout the drive. He also 100% reaches to hold the back of your headrest when reversing (his bicep in full flex – it takes everything in you not to bite it).

He also definitely reaches his arm in front of you to protect you when he has to break abruptly because of those around you. He’s a defensive driver for sure, with an impeccable driving record.

Aaron takes good care of his passenger princess; he will remote start the car to ensure its cooled off before you get in it in the summer and warmed up in the winter. He opens your door for you every chance he gets and chastises himself when he’s not fast enough to get it before you do.

He will grab your favorite drink and snack for you and have it ready in the car, whether it’s water and gum, or a smoothie and chips. He also goes out of his way to make sure you have socks in the glove compartment and a sweater in the backseat.

Aaron put a little trashcan in the passenger door for your straw and gum wrappers, he has a hook on the back of his headrest for you to hang your bag up and he has an organizer in the trunk to keep everything organized (again with a need for control…OCD Much??). In the trunk is a pair of your slides so after a night out, if you choose to kick your shoes off, you can put on your socks and slides to be more comfortable.

Don’t even get me started on road trips…Aaron is far too prepared to have you as a passenger for a road trip. After expertly loading the trunk up with your bags, getting Jack situated in the backseat with a movie (iPad and headphones), he gets things set up for you. Behind the center console, he places a cooler filled with all sorts of drinks and snacks. He ensures there’s a cable for your phone so you can charge it and play music (because you definitely made a playlist). Aaron also places one of those little pillows on the headrest for you just in case you doze off.

So yeah…you are most definitely Aaron’s little passenger princess.

[hyukascampfire]

LET IT SNOW! ⋅ ´- c.bg

choi beomgyu and you are best at one thing: getting on yeonjun's nerves. going out for a snowball fight on the first winter snow, he has the perfect plan. ‧ׅ ˚

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ᰍairings ˒ crush!beomgyu x reader ft. ot5

ᧁ ; fluff

ωarnings ˒ nothing but tooth rotting fluff and friends pining over each other

✎୭ ashlynn's note im so sorry this one came out so late guys omg. i woke up late and had to rewrite some >.< @hmusunoo HERE U GO BABYYY

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The front of the car is a bustle of the boys all trying to speak over each other, their voices twisting up with the Christmas station. Yeonjun grips the wheel white-knuckled—he’s the only one that’d volunteered to drive on the glazed roads. The little park where you head isn’t too far, though, so you think you’ll be fine. 

You hope you will be, anyway. The shouting and chaos that would fall over the car should the wheels lose traction and send you slipping… he’s got the car at the slowest crawl, but you can hear it now.

The moment Soobin had suggested a snowball fight, you all had tugged on puffy layers and two layers of socks. Throwing compacted balls of powdery snow at each other’s faces is worlds more interesting than sitting around and watching the snowfall from the windows, anyway. And, you had the perfect place for it. 

When it came time to file into the car, you offered to climb into the back. The heater blasts right onto you here, and you intend to soak up every last moment of it before the cold bites. You’d tugged your seatbelt out and locked it into place with a click.

Lifting your gaze, your heart did a little flutter to find Beomgyu in the seat beside you. He’s bundled up in a black puffer. Having zipped it all the way up to the collar, it stands stiff and presses into the soft round edge of his cheeks when he turns his head to send you a cheeky smile.

It’s not that you’re uncomfortable or awkward with him. You’re just as close to him as the others. For whatever reason, though, whenever you get little moments like these, where it’s just the two of you… You fluster.

Looking into his soft brown eyes is even hard now, so you opt for watching the snow piles and glistening rooftops pass the windows by. Yesterday there had been nothing there, and now there’s a layer shin-high wherever it hasn’t been plowed off. This is your favorite time of the year—you wish it snowed more often. You suppose, though, that because it doesn’t, the serenity and stillness of days like this are more special. 

Kai and you had been the first up. Just when morning had cracked over the sky, clear and pale and wintry, you’d found each other in the kitchen with sleep-tossed hair and droopy eyes. It didn’t take more than a glance outside to know that the weather apps hadn’t lied—the air on a snowy morning just looks different. It’s silver and as crisp on the eyes as it is on the lungs. His voice had been still thick with sleep when he’d said, “Snowman?”

Of course, you wanted to build a snowman. Still in rumpled pajamas, you two drug yourselves out there, stepping around in the snow a little just to hear it crunch underfoot, and then got to work. The snowman ended up faceless and only garnished with a thick, waxy leaf poking out from the top of his head like an antenna. When you stepped back to look at it, Kai had snorted and said, “If that thing ever gained consciousness, we’d be the first people it kills.”

You fiddle with your woolen gloves, and then decide on just tugging them off. It’s toasty enough in the confines of the car; you’ll just tug them back on when you get out.

A nudge at your side has you looking up to Beomgyu. You raise a curious eyebrow at the look on his face—the corners of his lips pulled up into a sneaky grin and the shine of something playful in his eyes.

He leans toward you, the warm scent of him all woody and vanilla sweet in the car’s hot air. Keeping his voice low, a secret just between the two of you back here, he says, “I have an idea.”

An idea could mean anything, coming from him. Especially with that look in his eye. You take a look over the front of the car. It’s as loud as ever up there. Yeonjun and Soobin in the front talk awfully aggressively about something that doesn’t reach your ears, though you’re sure it’s got something to do with Yeonjun’s driving if Soobin’s wide eyes are a hint. Yeonjun’s eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror with a roll. The middle row isn’t as loud as the front, but Taehyun and Kai still are into their conversation enough to not hear what he has to say. The two of them sit at the window seats, talking over the empty middle seat between them. 

You wonder why Beomgyu took this one, in the cramped back seat where your soft thigh presses against his, rather than that one. The climb out of here is pretty annoying, too. The seats don’t go down, so you have to climb over headrests and duck under the car’s fabric ceiling.

“Hmm?” you say, deciding that his secret is safe enough back here.

His smile turns shit-eating. He leans closer, saying, “Want to piss Yeonjun off?”

You’re always down for that. Beomgyu is, too. If there’s anything Yeonjun fears most in the world, it’s to see the two of you snickering off in the corner and exchanging secret words. Most times, you don’t even have to plan it; all it takes is a sharing of a glance and raise of your brows, and you know you’re thinking the same thing.

“What are you gonna do?” you whisper back. The smile that tugs at your mouth is beyond your control—it comes to you just at the sight of his. 

He sends a glance toward the front of the car. “If the both of us only hit him…”

It’s no different from any other nagging thing you put the poor guy through, but it’ll entertain you every time. “Got it,” you say, nose wrinkling as you try to keep your laugh down.

The car comes to a stop. From your window, the expanse of the field you’ve come to turn into a warzone is brushed over with last night’s snow blast. Opened doors let a frozen, curling air in. You share one last knowing look with Beomgyu before crawling out yourself. If you don’t get out fast enough, you’ll become victim to whoever has gotten out fast enough to smush up a snowball just for you.

Flying straight and purposeful through the air, the first one does not hit you, though. It explodes into white powder and a thousand little crystal snowflakes over Beomgyu’s face, clinging to the wispy bits of the hair that falls over his eyes and all down the front of him. You don’t even know which direction it came from. He blinks it off his lashes and lets his mouth hang open for a few moments, before dropping down to the snow to build one in retaliation.

Everything devolves after that. Snow flies in arcs through the air, crashing over shoulders and into the backs of whoever’s dumb enough to turn their back. Barked laughs and shrieks break the morning’s peace. You dodge and dart, taking an awful hunk of snow to the thigh. Letting out a shrill sound, utterly unconcerned with whoever might be asleep in the houses across the street, you shoot a glare at a proud Soobin. He forms another in between his gloves, but you have a mission. 

Beomgyu’s already landed a few on Yeonjun. You squat to roll a few and come up with one, keeping a few more misshapen chunks of snow that could hardly be called a snowball in the nook of your arm at the ready. The first skims just by the side of his head, but the next crumbles against his chest, and each one after that ends.

Off from another end of the field, made a mess with your footsteps cutting the pristine surface and the piles you’ve left on top of it, Beomgyu folds with a laugh. From your peripherals, a few of the boys shout and the scattering of a snowball tells you that somebody’s been hit hard, but all you can hear is his laugh. All you can see is the pink on his cheeks and the crinkling at the corners of his eyes.

Alliances form and a thousand snowballs are thrown, and only when Beomgyu lands a hit right at the back of Yeonjun’s head just after yours crashes against the fabric of his jacket does he realize.

“What the hell?” he spits, lips tugged down in a frown and his brows shot up to his forehead.

You cover your mouth with a soaked glove, but Beomgyu doesn’t cut his laugh. Your snort comes tumbling past the fabric as Yeonjun shakes his head and points at the two of you, laughing dangerously.

For the rest of that morning, with numb fingers and thighs sore from running, you and Beomgyu’s fates were sealed, dodging Yeonjun’s angry and pointed throws. At some point, you duck behind Beomgyu, using the width of his shoulders to escape a ball in Yeonjun’s hand with your name written on it.

Only when all of you are panting and have to drag your limbs, do you drag yourselves homeward. The car’s heater doesn’t warm up quick enough—when you step into the door, treading snow still stuck on the bottom of your boots through the entrance, the air still prickles and nips at your numbed cheeks. You peel layers of your clothes from your skin, soaked where snow had gotten caught and melted against your body heat. Tugging your shoes off was the worst; you wiggle your toes a few times just to make sure you can still move them.

Stuffing yourselves into clothes so warm that you’ll probably all be changing as soon as your bodies return to their normal temperatures, you all sprawl over the couch. Somebody snatches the remote up and clicks through a collection of Christmas classics, but at Taehyun’s insistence, you land on Christmas Vacation.

The couch is solid and warm against your back, the floor hard against your bottom. You had taken the longest to change and scarf a few candy canes down, and each seat had been occupied when you came to join their lounging. You don’t mind much—from here, you can better look at the Christmas tree and try to narrow your eyes down on which presents beneath it are yours. Kai had insisted that nobody snoops.

Beomgyu slips down beside you before the movie starts. He’s warm up against you; you’re not sure how. You’re just getting feeling back in the tips of your fingers. On his mouth, he plays a soft and easy smile, catching your eyes though you want to flounder under his attention.

Leaning toward you once more, just as he had in the car, he whispers, “Did you see his face?”

You share a quiet giggle with him, pressing your head into the fabric of his knitted sweater on his shoulder. “Yeah,” you say. “He makes it too easy…”

It wasn’t the look on Yeonjun’s face that you remember best, though. Captured in the morning light, all you had seen was the pink of Beomgyu’s cheeks and the mischievous glint there, and all you had felt was the way that it settled over your longing heart like how the fireplace warms you now.

You hope that he had been looking at you, too.

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✎୭ ashlynn's note they're so cute i need them to kiss and cuddle and love each other

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Give Me Your TMI ~ Chapter 1

₊˚⊹ᰔ Pairing; Yang Jeongin x Fem!reader, Stray kids x Fem!reader

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Summary; In a world where Humans and Hybrids should be living as equals, Hybrids are still viewed as being closer to their animalistic side than their humanistic. Deep in the woods lives a band of misfit hybrids who reject these societal views and keep to themselves, choosing to live away from humans. What happens when the youngest of this rogue group meets a lost Human girl, befriending her after an incident where he must rely on her for help?

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Warnings; hybrid!au, female!reader, angst, mild violence, mentions of sexual harassment/assault and discrimination, mentions of starvation (not purposeful but due to lack of food), she/her pronouns used for reader, this is very loosely based off the overall themes/tones of the manga and anime fruits basket~

The afternoon sunlight shown through the trees, the late summer breeze blowing gently through his fur as Jeongin rushed through the dense wooded area after the scent of an intruder in their territory. He first caught a wiff of the human wandering in their forest while doing his routine patrol of the area, ears standing up straight as he listened for any noise to indicate where they may be. Once he locked onto the scent better he took off immediately, not giving a second thought to go back and alert the others before jumping into action.

After running for what felt like forever he finally caught up to the source of the foreign smell. Through the trees the fox hybrid could see a girl, looking far too out of place in the large wooded area in a light blue sundress and white socks with lace trim peeking above the tops of her sneakers. Jeongin eyed her curiously from afar, watching as she stumbled her way over fallen branches and briar bushes. She looked hopelessly lost and when she finally turned so that he was able to see her face he could make out the faint traces of tears reflected in the sunlight.

Pretty, he thought, smiling to himself in his head as he continued to watch her struggle for a moment before shaking himself out of his thoughts and making his presence known by stepping out into her view. The poor girl jumped back at the sight of him before freezing completely, eyes wide with fear as she locked eyes with the seemingly normal fox in front of her. “Shit- oh god what do I do? Do I back away slowly or make myself look big and loud?” She wondered aloud, causing the fox to chirp with amusement. Silly girl, that’s for a bear, he thought to himself before stepping forward and letting out a small trill from the back of his throat. “O-Okay, fuck- do I run? Oh god…please don’t hurt me-“ She whimpered, taking a hesitant step backwards. Taking pity on the pretty girl Jeongin nodded his head towards the left, slowly turning to face that direction before looking behind him to see if she understood what he wanted of her.

Cautiously, she tilted her head before speaking up. “Do you want me to follow you?” She asked causing the fox to let out another chirp and turn back to begin walking in the direction he wanted her to go. Silently she followed, trying to both watch her footing to not trip while also keeping an eye on him so she didn’t lose him. Eventually Jeongin came to a stop at the end of the tree line, and if she hadn’t looked back up in time she may have bumped into his tail not having realized just how close she had gotten to the beautiful creature. “Oh- sorry…where did you…” Before she could finish her question, the hybrid dashed off further into the trees leaving her standing all alone at the edge of the forest. “Huh?” She turned back to where the fox had been just moments before and saw that he had lead her to a long dirt road. She wasn’t sure where it lead, but she was thankful to be in some sort of clearing as it would be much easier to traverse than the dense woods she had been lost in. “Thank you Mr. Fox!” She shouted back into the trees before stepping out onto the road and beginning to maker her way to wherever it would lead.

At her thanks, Jeongin felt pride swell in his chest and with a little nod in her direction, though she wouldn’t be able to see him, he began making his way back home.

Once back at the cabin, Jeongin shifted into his human form, naked as the day he was born before picking up his clothes from where he left them before his patrol at the edge of the clearing that was their home. “Ayen! How did your patrol go?” Seungmin asked cheerfully as he made his way towards the other hybrid from where he had been working in the garden. His velvety brown ears flopped lightly as he jogged up towards the younger, tail wagging lightly behind him until he got close enough to smell the scent of a human on him. “Jeongin? Why do you smell like a human?” He questioned, fear evident in his face as he looked over the fox hybrid carefully for any injuries.

“Hyung it’s nothing, I’m alright. But there was a girl in our woods.” He said the last bit cautiously, though he was attempting for a nonchalant tone. “A girl?!” The beagle hybrid screeched, eyes going wide. “Yeah, a girl. She was lost or something- not a threat. I lead her back to the road.” Seungmin shook his head, arms crossing over his chest. “How do you know she’s not a threat? What was she even doing all the way out here? We are like- miles and miles away from the nearest town and there are no other houses in the area for her to be able to walk all the way here to get lost in the first place.”

The fox scoffed, pushing past the older hybrid on his way towards the house once fully dressed. “Calm down, hyung. Trust me she was more scared of me. Thought I was a regular old fox, we’re fine.” The puppy didn’t back down, though his tone shifted as a smirk broke out on his face. “She was cute, wasn’t she.” Jeongin froze mid step, not daring to look behind him or else his face would give it away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The older laughed, walking towards the younger slowly at first. “I don’t hear you denying it.” And with that the beagle took off in a sprint towards the cabin. “GUYS! INNIE HAS A GIIIRRLLLFRIEND!!!” He shouted, letting out a bark to alert the others.

With eyes gone wide, the younger hybrid took off after him towards the house. “Seungmin stop! It’s not- I was just getting her out of our woods!!” He cursed under his breath as he finally reached the front steps of the porch where Seungmin was now standing beside a very disappointed looking wolf hybrid.

Chan stood with arms crossed over his chest, large black ears standing tall at the top of his head and tail flicking with his displeasure. “Jeongin, care to explain?” Seungmin wore a triumphant smirk, chest puffed up as he looked at the younger from his place beside the oldest. “I- when I was doing my patrol I smelled a human, so I went to see where it was coming from…” Chan frowned, raising an eyebrow at the youngest member of their little family. “Without telling any of us first?” The fox pouted, looking away as he felt the piercing gaze of the older hybrid to be too much to look at directly. “I got ahead of myself, I know…I’m sorry. But she’s gone now!” “She?”

Jeongin gulped, throat feeling a bit tight at being put in the hot seat like this. “It was just some girl, she was clearly lost. She wasn’t even dressed like she was ready to be in the woods and she had- she was crying-“ he tried to defend his actions, hands balled into fists at his sides. “You risked getting caught, getting us all caught, because a girl was crying?” Chan huffed and Seungmin rolled his eyes. “I couldn’t just leave her there! What if she got too close and found the house? Found all of us?” The younger pleaded, finally looking up to meet his eyes. “I stayed in my fox form the whole time- she didn’t even know I was a hybrid. She probably thought I was gonna eat her or something…but she’s gone, I lead her back to the road so she can go home.”

Chan stood in silence for a moment, watching the youngest carefully before nodding his head. “Alright, I’ll let it slide this time. But if this ever happens again you tell us immediately. Got it?” Jeongin nodded, his fluffy red tail swaying slowly and his ears pressed flat to his head sorrowfully. “Yes, hyung…”

It had been two weeks since the first time he saw her, doing his normal patrol of their territory. The pretty girl in the blue dress had become a distant memory in the back of his mind as he hadn’t seen or smelled any trace of her since. As he walked around the forest he began to notice something different, little strips of what looked to be fabric and ribbon tied to trees roughly every ten to fifteen feet.

Jeongin was in his fox form, as he always was during patrol, so the markers were a few feet high from his head. As he was inspecting the fabric his ears twitched at the sound of a twig snapping not too far away and that familiar scent was nearby. She was back. The hybrid followed the scent until he caught sight of her, this time dressed in a pair of tan shorts that stopped a little higher than her mid thigh and a light pink top with little daisies embroidered all over it. He stood and admired her from a far for a moment, watching as she tied a small ribbon around the thinner trunk of a pine tree before beginning to move onward. So that was who was behind the strange markers, what was she doing? He wondered to himself before following after her with a little chirp to get her attention.

The girl startled, hand held to her chest when she turned to see it was just him. “Oh, Mr. fox it’s just you-“ a giggle left her lips and Jeongin thought briefly that it was one of the most lovely sounds he had ever heard before shifting his attention to the question of why she was back in their forest. Assuming she was lost again, the fox nodded once again for her to follow him and seemingly without question she did just that. As the two walked, the girl began to speak softly. He wasn’t sure if she was just speaking to herself at first until she addressed him directly. “What do you think, Mr. fox?” Shit, he hadn’t been paying attention to her words. Jeongin nodded regardless, not like he could give anything more of a response in this form anyways so she didn’t need to know he hadn’t been listening. The smile that small gesture brought to her face caused the hybrid to falter a bit in his step and almost trip over his front paws.

Once he had lead her back to the edge of the forest where the same dirt road was from the last time he had seen her, the fox this time stayed there to watch and make sure she left.

He wasn’t sure why she was there, how she got there, of why she was tying things to the trees, but he didn’t want her to get caught by any of the others who most likely wouldn’t be as kind to her as he was. As he stood waiting for her to leave, she suddenly crouched down to his level and began reaching out her hand towards him.

Panic set in and his fur stood on end. Just before she could make contact with his fur the fox pounced, knocking the girl onto her back on the forest floor. Jeongin growled, teeth bared at her and his ears flat to his head as he stood on her torso to keep her down.

As soon as he had growled the girl let out a scream, tears flowing from her eyes as she began to sob. “P-Please don’t hurt me-“ she begged, though to her this was just some normal fox who couldn’t understand her cries. Luckily for her this was no normal fox, and the sight of her tears caused the hybrid to freeze up before quickly pulling away and darting through the woods.

He couldn’t believe himself, almost hurting her like that. She wasn’t a threat, or at least it didn’t seem like it. At the feeling of hatred towards such an animalistic act he felt himself shifting into his human form while the echoing of her cries could still be heard for a moment until he finally broke through into the clearing. Thankfully no one was around to see him as he fell to the ground as sobs of his own slipped out though he tried to fight them, his heart racing and his stomach turning causing him to feel ill. Lashing out like that at just the proximity, he was only proving the humans right that hybrids were no better than any regular animal. Animalistic, wild, feral- words he had been called before echoed in his mind causing him to scream to try and drown them out.

Jeongin hadn’t realized he was screaming until his throat began to feel sore and Hyunjin was running from the house with Felix and Changbin close behind. The ferret hybrid’s strong arms wrapped around him, pulling their youngest to his chest as he began rocking him carefully. “Innie, baby it’s okay. You’re safe.” Hyunjin spoke softly, nuzzling his cheek into the fox hybrid’s hair causing his ears to twitch and flatten to his head as he slowly calmed down. “What happened, ayen?” Changbin asked from over the ferret’s shoulder.

“The- the girl…she was in the woods again-“ the three older hybrid’s eyes went wide but before they could say anything Jeongin continued.

“I know Chan hyung said to tell him if I saw her again or the next time a human was in the forest but- but I don’t know-“ he was still trying to catch his breath, still clinging to the older hybrid who held him close. “I don’t think she’s a threat- she’s so…odd- but she tried to pet me and I almost attacked her.” He began crying again without realizing it, much softer this time. “I’m no better than the animal they said I was-“ he said softly, hiding his face in Hyunjin’s shoulder as Felix came to wrap his arms around him from his other side. “Please don’t tell Chan hyung- I don’t want to upset him I didn’t mean to it just happened so fast and I wanted to make sure she wasn’t lost anymore. She seems a little clumsy-“

Felix cooed at the fox and pet his hair gently. “We won’t tell Chris, Innie…but please next time come get us. Even if you don’t think she’s a threat, we don’t want something like this to happen again.” The younger nodded, staying in their arms for a while longer before allowing the others to lead him inside and help him clean up where branches and briars had scratched his skin from running through the woods completely undressed after shifting.

While sitting in the bath, Felix kneeling beside him and helping clean the small wounds he had procured, Jeongin could see her face washed in fear in the back of his mind and couldn’t seem to shake the feeling of guilt that surrounded him and threatened to swallow him whole as he heard her cries clear as day still even now miles from where he left her laying on the forest floor. He hoped she was okay.

It had been another two weeks since he had almost attacked the lost girl in their woods and Jeongin had been hesitant to go alone on patrol ever since, always having one of his hyungs accompany him whenever he had to go out into the woods. After a while he began to relax, not having run into her in so long made him feel he had successfully scared her away from ever entering the woods again.

Feeling this new sense of peace, he finally felt like it was okay to go on patrols alone again and after a long day of running around the dense forest Jeongin felt as if he could use a drink. The fox hybrid made his way to the river not far from the cabin, the smell of the damp earth and the sound of running water letting him know he was almost there.

Just as he got to the tree line however, there she was deep in the water.

She was submerged up to her shoulders but from the bare skin he could see and the neatly folded stack of clothes sitting on a nearby rock, the hybrid could only assume the girl before him was naked beneath the slow roll of the rivers stream. His thoughts were confirmed as not long after he had arrived she slowly rose from the water and the late afternoon sunlight hit her glistening skin. If he was not in his fox form Jeongin’s jaw would have been dropped comically wide as he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the soft curves of her body as she made her way back to the shore.

He had never seen a feminine body before, having been kept separate from the female hybrids at the center he was raised and never having had an owner let alone a female one. Her body fascinated him, but also lit a fire inside his chest that would have caused a bright blush to spread across his cheeks if he were not in his fox form.

As she made her way back to her clothes, the girl picked up a dark colored towel and began to dry her hair until she suddenly caught sight of where Jeongin was hiding in the tree line. “Mr. Fox?” She asked cautiously, though there was no fear in her tone or expression, only curiosity. As if to answer her, Jeongin slowly stepped forward from the trees and made himself known fully, sitting down by the rock where her clothes remained in the perfectly folded stack.

A soft smile spread across her lips before she resumed drying off her hair before moving to the rest of her body. “I’m sorry I scared you the other day.” She said after she set the towel back down on the rock, starting to get dressed carefully. She’s apologizing? For scaring him? The hybrid tilted his head curiously as he watched her, letting out a little whimpering sound as he tried to show his confusion. He was sure it should be him who was apologizing for scaring her. “I know you probably don’t see a lot of people all the way out here…I was just- you have been so sweet to me so I wanted to thank you some how.” She tried to explain, as if a wild fox could understand her words. Thats all he was to her, after all. There was no way she would know he was a hybrid and could understand everything she said to him, still she continued. “I never had any kind of pets but my- um…a friend of mine had a dog once and he always liked to be pet when he did good.” He let out a little chirp at the fact that she assumed a wild animal would accept the same affection a house pet would. Her hesitance in her choice of words caused Jeongin to wonder what it was she was originally going to say, but he would have to take whatever information she would give him as there was no way he could reveal his status as a hybrid to her.

Now fully dressed, the girl took a seat on the rock and looked off to the water. He took in her appearance again, how peaceful she looked before he noticed the twinge of sadness in her eyes. Before he was even processing his movements, Jeongin was climbing onto the rock beside her and laying down at her side. At the feeling of soft fur brushing against her bare thigh she startled a bit, relaxing when she looked down to see he was curled up peacefully at her side. “Mr. fox…c-could I?” She spoke softly, hesitantly lifting her hand though she kept it to herself until he gave indication that her touch was allowed.

Silently, the hybrid lifted his head until the palm of her hand was pressed lightly against the spot between his ears.

There it was again, that giggle that was music to his ears. As the girl began to pet him gently, giving a few scratches behind his ears, Jeongin felt himself melting into her side while content little whimpers escaping him occasionally. They sat like that as the sun began to set, but just before it dipped completely below the horizon she rose from her seat. “I better get back before it’s too dark. Thank you for coming to see me again, Mr. fox.” With that she bid him farewell and left Jeongin sitting against the rock with his brain a little hazy from the affection he had received. Once she was gone from sight he realized he probably reeked of her scent and his hyungs would know he had seen her again. Changbin, Hyunjin, and Felix had kept to their word and hadn’t told Chan about the last time but after the way her soft hand had carded through his fur for what felt like hours there would be no way to hide it from him or the others. The would know the second he stepped into the clearing.

In an attempt to cleanse himself of any trace of her, Jeongin looked around to be sure she was really gone before shifting and taking a dip into the river. Fully submerging himself, the hybrid swam around for a while to make sure there would be no way to smell the lost girl’s scent on him when he returned home.

Fortunately for him this had worked and the only questions he received once back in the cabin was as to why he was soaking wet. He made up a simple lie that he had gotten too hot while on patrol and went for a swim, effectively getting his hyungs off his back for the most part though Changbin had chastised him that it was getting too close to autumn and he could catch a cold if not careful.

The youngest apologized for not thinking of his health, promising not to do it again as he went to take a proper bath just to scrub his skin raw with every scented product in the bathroom and make extra sure that there was no way they would ever find out about his latest encounter with his new secret friend.

Two weeks since the meeting at the river, Jeongin made it a habit of running into the pretty girl. She never introduced herself, or talked about why she was always in their forest, but she would tell him stories from a book she started bringing to the river where they started meeting at the end of every day just before the sun would set. The hybrid would rest his head on her thigh to soak up the warmth there and she carded her fingers through his fur as she read aloud to him.

Jeongin always made sure to take a dip in the water after she left, washing away her scent to keep their meetings secret from his hyungs who undoubtedly would not approve of his new friendship with a human.

It was a normal day on patrol for the fox hybrid, keeping watch of their beloved forest. He felt the slowly chilling early autumn breeze brush around his fur as he walked leisurely through the trees, thinking of what stories he may get to hear from the pretty girl later that afternoon when suddenly a sharp pain shot through his left leg and the loud sound of metal clinking together rang in his ears.

In his distracted state of mind the hybrid had completely missed the bear trap in his path, stepping right on it causing the metal teeth to pierce his flesh and blood to slowly begin trickling down to his paw and the dirt and leave covered ground.

Jeongin was too far from the cabin, and the older hybrids that were on patrol were in areas of the forest too far to hear his cries for help. Those who had chores at the cabin did not have as good of hearing as he, Chan, and Seungmin. He was truly and helpless fucked. The pain was searing and he felt like he could faint but he forced himself to stay together and let out a loud howl hoping that someone would hear him and come to his rescue.

Fortunately for the hybrid, his human friend happened to be walking near by when she began to hear the sound of not too distant fox cries. “That can’t be-“ she whispered to herself, turning in the direction of the sound before she heard it again. The sound was strangled, desperate, and it caused her nerves to stand on edge before she took off running in the same direction. Low hanging branches and thorns tore at her skin with the speed she was running to get to her precious Mr. fox, as she so affectionately called the hybrid. Once she spotted the sight of his orange fur she began to relax, until she noticed the state he was in and her panic kicked into overdrive.

As soon as she was by his side the girl dropped to her knees, hands hovering over the trap with hesitation. “Oh- oh this is bad-“ She mumbled to herself, trying to see how to release Jeongin from the trap. “O-Okay…I’m gonna try and pry it open, then you pull your leg out okay?” She explained, voice shaking though she tried to stay calm. The hybrid nodded to her, braving himself to move quickly once she got the trap open. The girl took a deep breath, holding it as she placed both hands on each side of the trap and began pulling them apart with all of her strength.

As soon as he felt the metal teeth leave his flesh the hybrid pulled his leg free and let himself fall to the forest floor with a whine. The girl let go of the trap once she saw he was free, pulling her hands back quickly as to not get stuck herself. “Okay okay- uh- shit this is bad, you’re bleeding a lot-“ rambling once more, she began looking around the forest then back to the fox laying before her. Before she could overthink things, her arms were wrapping around the fox and cradling him against her chest as she stood and began running back through the woods the way she came. Jeongin felt himself going in and out of consciousness as he used the pretty human girl’s scent to ground himself in reality as best he could.

After a while the pair came to a clearing, much smaller than the one where the cabin was, with a simple camping set up. There was a small tent, only big enough for maybe two people, a small ring of rocks where ashes remained from what he assumed was a fire probably the night before, two folding chairs, and a few plastic bins stacked neatly beside the tent. Jeongin took in the small space curiously, trying to distract himself from the pain as she laid his nearly limp body in one of the chairs before digging around in the bins for something. “I know there is a first aid kit in here somewhere-“ she huffed out, still out of breath from how fast she had run to get them there before he bled out anymore. “Ahah!” She shouted triumphantly, producing a roll of bandages. Quickly, she retuned to his side and began using a small bottle of water to clean his wounds before bandaging them tightly.

She looked rough, now that he could see her fully and give her his full attention, he could see that her hair was falling out of the braid she had pulled it back into and there was tiny cuts and scrapes littering her exposed skin. Her clothing was stained with dirt and his own blood from where she had carried him there. “Alright, all patched up.” She said with a soft smile effectively warming his insides with the gesture. The hybrid looked down at her handwork and smiled in his head. She did a pretty good job for someone who seemed to be clueless most of the time. “Let’s get you back, yeah? I’m sure you’ll wanna go back to your den and get some rest after this…wait- do foxes live in dens or caves?” There was his clueless girl. Jeongin wished he could talk to her, tell her all the things he had to keep to himself in his fox form, properly introduce himself to her so she didn’t have to always call him Mr. fox…In his head he let out a sigh, resting his head on his uninjured right leg before he was suddenly scooped back up into her arms.

The young hybrid chirped, a small purring sound erupting from his chest and she held him snuggly against her soft chest. “I’m gonna bring you back as far as I can remember seeing you, okay? I think your home should be nearby. Think you can get there on your own after that?” Jeongin nodded a bit, though he worried she may try to follow him to make sure he was okay and end up finding the cabin…and the others finding her. After a long walk through the densely wooded area, the girl set him down and gave a soft kiss to the top of his head. Oh- she had never done that before. “Get home safely, please…and come see me when you are better so I don’t worry too much.” She said with a slight teasing lilt in her voice. Jeongin gave her a nod before turning and limping his way back to the clearing.

Once he was past the tree line he looked back to make sure she hadn’t followed, shifting back into his human form and letting out an almost blood curdling scream as the bandages she had placed on his much smaller fox leg now ripped apart and fell to the soft grass of the clearing. At the sound of his scream Minho and Jisung were racing out of the cabin and to his side. Upon seeing his injuries Jisung gasped and a hand shot to cover his mouth while Minho jumped into action much like the girl had, though his movements were much more confident whereas hers were more hesitant. “What happened to you??” Jisung questioned from over the cat hybrid’s shoulder. “Bear trap- at least now it’s been trigged this won’t happen again.” He tried to joke, laughing pathetically at the attempt as Minho scooped him up in his arms and began carrying him back to the cabin while Jisung brought his clothes.

The sight that greeted Chan and Seungmin when the both arrived home from their own patrols was their youngest laid out on their kitchen table, still shirtless though he was dressed from the waist down, pain etched into his face as Minho worked carefully to stitch up the nasty gashes on his arm. Felix assisted the older, wiping away any blood that blocked his path with a warm wet cloth as Han, Hyunjin, and Changbin waited anxiously from the other side of the kitchen as to still show support but not catch a glimpse of the somewhat gory scene. “What the hell happened.” Chan said, the oldest at Jeongin’s free side in an instant while Seungmin was quick to join Felix in helping keep things as sterile as possible.

“Hyung i-it’s fine-“ Jeongin spoke through gritted teeth, wincing as the cat hybrid laid yet another stitch. “It sure as hell doesn’t look fine.” His disapproving frown was so evident in his voice that the younger hybrid didn’t even need to look up to see it. “Chris- can we talk about it after he’s all patched up?” Felix pleading voice called out to the wolf hybrid causing him to sigh and nod in agreement. “Alright, yeah. Later, though. I want a full explanation, no excuses.” With that the oldest went off to clean up and try and distract himself from the youngest’s painful whimpers.

Once Jeongin was successfully stitched back together and bandaged properly to fit his human form, he was sat on the couch in front of a very disappointed wolf hybrid who’s arms were crossed firmly over his broad chest. Hyunjin was glued to the younger’s side, nuzzling up next to him for comfort as the fox in question had his gaze downturned to his lap. “So you were continuing to see this human after i specifically told you not to, and to get us if you ever saw her again?” Chan’s voice was stern, eye brow raising to show he expected an answer after Jeongin had finished telling them the story of his secret friend, how he had come to be injured, and how she had saved him and attempted to treat his wounds. “I’m sorry hyung….she just- she’s different, I just know. I can feel it.” The older scoffed, looking to the side before turning back to the younger. “You only say that now. How do you know she doesn’t just want something from you, hm?” His skepticism and distrust for humans caused Jeongin to frown himself. He knew very well why the head of their little family had so much distain for humankind, and he didn’t blame him for harboring such a bias against them. The fix himself had a very tainted past at the hands of many humans at the facility he was raised, it’s why he had to escape.

“She’s probably trying to gain your trust now so she can use it against you later.” The fox hybrids ears twitched atop his head as he allowed the older to scold him for his actions and his carelessness. “But she wouldn’t-“ he started to say, feeling a deep seated need to defend his friend. “I don’t want you going out on patrol from now on. Hyunjin will take your place.” Chan said finally, cutting off the younger hybrid whose head snapped up at the order. “You can’t- that’s so unfair! Channie hyung she saved my life-“ A low growl echoed through the room effectively silencing the fox, though he glared up at the older hybrid defiantly. “You showed me that you cannot listen to orders, Ayen. I don’t give orders for the hell of it, I do it to protect you. All of you. If you can’t listen then you are putting yourself and all of us at risk.”

Jeongin let out a whimper, choosing to burying his face in the nape of Hyunjin’s neck and let out a choked sob in lieu of an answer. The ferret hybrid held him close, rubbing his back in soothing circles as he gave Chan a look. The wolf shook his head dismissively before heading towards his room at the back of the cabin. Felix chased after him, a look of pity in his soft brown eyes. “You could have gone easier on him, Chris…I get that he didn’t listen but she hasn’t given him any reason not to trust her this far-“ Chan let out another growl causing the cat hybrid to take a step back from him. “Drop it, Lix. I’ve made up my mind. If any of you see that human around you let me know, I will take care of it.” There was an edge to his tone that made the hair stand up at the back of his neck, the younger hybrid only nodding in under before heading back to help comfort their youngest.

It had been so long since he had seen her last, the fox hybrid found it hard to believe it had been only eight weeks since he first discovered the human girl lost in their woods. Jeongin spent his time not on patrol taking over Hyunjin’s chores at the cabin. His days consisted of laundry and tending to the garden with his hyungs that were not out in the forest. One day, while alone in the garden, the youngest looked up at the sky to see storm clouds slowly rolling in. Changbin came out from the house to shout out to the fox. “Ayen-ah! Make sure to bring the laundry in before it starts to rain!” The bunny hybrid gave him a soft smile, all of them knowing the transition to his new daily tasks had been difficult for the youngest. Jeongin called out to his hyung as he made his way from the garden over to the clothes line. “You got it, Binnie-hyung!”

As he was bringing the now folded laundry inside, neatly placed in the large wicker basket, his ears and nose began to twitch and his tail stiffened as a sense of unease fell over him. Something was wrong, very wrong.

Carefully, Jeongin sat the basket on the porch away from where any rain could get to it as a light drizzle began to fall from the sky. Trying to be as quiet as possible, the fox backed away towards the tree line before taking off in a sprint.

He wasn’t sure what it was but he had this sinking feeling that she was not okay. Once he was deeper in the woods and was sure his hyungs that were on patrol would be closer to the cabin and there was less of a risk of him being caught disobeying his oldest hyung’s orders he slowed to a walk, eyes carefully scanning the trees as the sickening feeling got worse. This was the first time he had been in the forest in this form, having to get used to the difference in height and view.

The closer he got to where her small camp was, the more wrong everything felt.

Looking up at the sky his stomach sank further at the sight of vultures circling. Breaking out into a frantic run he was quickly thrust into the small clearing where the human girl’s camp was.

It was raining heavily now, and just outside the opening to the small tent laid her limp body on the ground. His feet were moving before he could even process, falling to his knees as he examined what could have caused her to be in this state.

Jeongin let out a little gasp at her appearance. She looked sickly, skin paler than normal and her body was visibly smaller than when he had seen her last. As he thought back briefly to all the times he had seen her he realized that over time she had been loosing weight gradually with every visit. How could he have been so blind? Why didn’t she have any food? He didn’t have time to think about that right now.

The fox hybrid gently touched her frigid skin and felt for a pulse, it was weak but there and he scooped her body into his arms carefully. Fuck he must be insane for what he was about to do, but he couldn’t leave her there to die. Not after she had saved him.

With the girl securely in his hold Jeongin stood up and took off for the cabin, her head cradled against his shoulder as he tried not to jostle her too much as he ran to get back before it was too late.

A soft groan left her lips and with it he felt a glimmer of hope, she wasn’t too far gone.

Rain was blurring his vision, his hair flatting to his head flinging drops of water as he sprinted through the forest, weaving and winding to avoid colliding with any trees or branches as he made his way back to the clearing for help.

Time was completely elusive to the young hybrid as he stumbled up the steps to the front porch of the cabin after what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, almost tripping over the basket he had left there early.

At the sound of his steps on the wood floor of the porch his hyungs came rushing out the door to greet him. “Jeongin where have you been?! We’ve been worried sick, you just disap-“ Han’s words were cut off as he saw the girl clutched tightly to the youngest’s chest. “Oh my god is that-“ Felix pushed past the chipmunk hybrid to see what he was talking about and a gasp left him as he saw her. “You brought her here?!? Ayen if Chan sees you he’s gonna-“ “I’m gonna what?”

Chan moved around the pair of younger hybrids to see what Jeongin had that was causing such a stir. When his eyes landed on her limp body held by the fox and the desperation in his eyes the wolf growled lightly. “What the hell are you doing bringing a human here.” It wasn’t a real question, simply a statement to show his distaste for the youngest’s actions. “Hyung please- she’s starved! I-I found her laying outside and-and there were vultures and I think she’s going to die-“ Jeongin pleaded, stepping closer to the oldest. “That isn’t our problem. She shouldn’t be out here unprepared if she didn’t want to starve to death.”

The wolf hybrid stood his ground, his face void of expression as he looked at the younger with indifference. Jeongin stared in shock, his oldest hyung was usually so caring and gentle. He had his moments of sternness, as any good leader did, but it was only from the deep need to protect and take care of their family. Hearing such harsh words for another living being from his most trusted hyung caused his heart to ache. “Channie-hyung please- I have to save her. I owe her.”

At the sound of the commotion the rest of the hybrids came out to see Jeongin pleading with the wolf, his grip on the human in his arms tightening and tears welling in his eyes. Minho was the first to step forward, moving between the two canines. “Give her to me, kit.” He spoke softly, reaching for the girl causing Jeongin to flinch back and hold her more protectively. “Calm down, I’m not going to hurt her. We can’t keep standing out in the cold or her condition will worsen.”

The youngest eyed him cautiously before slowly and carefully passing the girl into the older’s arms.

“Minho what are you doing.” Chan spoke sternly, eyebrow raising at the cat as he began heading for the front door. “Hyung I know you have a bad past with humans, and you are valid to be cautious of them, but this girl is in no state to pose any threat to us.” He ignored the growling coming from the wolf as he moved inside carefully and headed for the fox hybrid’s room. “Ayen is right, we can’t let her die.” Jeongin followed wordlessly, walking past his hyungs to follow Minho to his room.

“She’s staying with you, though I doubt you’d complain.” He teased lightly, laying her on the bed before starting to remove her clothes.

“What are you-“ Jeongin stared wide eyed as his hyung stripped her to nothing on his bed. Seeing her naked form caused his stomach to turn as he could see just how frail her frame had become in comparison to the time he had seen her bathing in the river. “Go and get me all the blankets and towels you can, throw them in the dryer then bring them here. We need to bring up her core temperature, she’s already hypothermic and before we can think about feeding her we need her temperature back up.”

Nodding, the fox hybrid rushed to get the things requested by his hyung. In some weird show of possession he made sure to grab blankets and towels that held his scent the most, even rubbing against them before tossing them into the dryer before heading back to his room to see what he could do in the meantime.

He saw Han and Felix were at Minho’s side, talking in low voices about the next corse of action. “The stuff you asked for is in the dryer, what else can I do Hyung?” Jeongin’s voice was eager as he made his way to the edge of the bed, taking her cold hand in his much warmer one. “Well kit, we were just talking about that…while we wait for the stuff in the dryer we still need to keep her warm.” She was now laying under the quilt on his bed, her body still shivering lightly as Minho continued. “Body heat is most ideal…” a flash of jealousy and that possession from earlier came back as he spoke up immediately. “I’ll do it.” Minho smirked and nodded to the youngest. “Okay, so you will need to take off your clothes and hold her to you.”

Han and Felix giggled as the fox hybrid flushed visibly at the realization of what he had just volunteered to do. Still, he didn’t regret his words. He would much rather it be himself than one of the others being with you like this. He quickly began taking off his clothes, causing the others to snicker. “No need to be so eager, kit.” Han teased, poking his cheek as he went to check the dryer with Felix in tow. “Shut up-“ once he was fully bare he carefully lifted the edge of the quilt and slipped into the bed next to her.

“I’m gonna go and make something for her to eat once we warm her up. When Felix and Han get back, wrap her in the towels first then the blankets.” Jeongin nodded, listening to the cat hybrid’s words though his attention was on the girl laying next to him. “You did good getting her here, don’t mind Chan-hyung he will come around to realize how harsh he was being eventually.”

Once Minho had left the room, it was just the fox and the human girl. His pretty girl. Finally being with her in this form, he felt he could fully take in her beauty. The hybrid wrapped his arms around her torso, pulling her flush against him so the natural warmth of his body could radiate onto hers. “Hi- um…I know you probably can’t hear me right now…but I figured uh..since we are like this I should introduce myself-“ his nerves caused him to stutter, his face mere inches from her own causing his hot breath to fan over her face gently, the girl in his arms letting out another small groan. “I’m Jeongin, um- Mr. fox is a cute nickname but- my name is Jeongin. God you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to tell you that-“

He laid like that for what felt like an eternity, taking in her features so closely as he attempted to warm her up. Slowly he felt the chill on her skin leaving as Han and Felix came back with the stuff from the dryer. The youngest moved back the quilt so they could get to work wrapping her in the warm fabric, and at the sight of her nude form Han began to blush as he attempted to advert his eyes. Just like Jeongin, the chipmunk had never seen a female before. “Minho-hyung said to start with the towels-“ Jeongin removed himself from her side, sitting up on his knees to help them wrap her up.

After she was safely cocooned in warm towels and blankets. Jeongin redressed as Minho brought in a bowl of broth. “Is that gonna be enough? She looks like she hasn’t eaten in weeks-“ Jeongin eyed the broth skeptically as Minho sat on the edge of the bed and gently tapped at the girl’s cheek. “Come on, sleeping beauty. Gotta get some food in you so you get get better.” A whimper left her lips, but her mouth opened enough for him to feed her a spoonful. “Broth is enough for now. She can’t exactly chew in this state and we don’t wanna put anything too heavy in her stomach or she won’t be able to keep it down.”

Slowly the cat hybrid fed her, watching as the warmth from the blankets brought color back to her skin. Minho smiled softly, brushing the hair back from her face gently as she finished the bowl he had brought her. “There. I’ll feed her some more later. We’ll keep this up until she’s awaken then we’ll move to adding veggies in it if she thinks she can keep it down” with that the older left to wash the empty bowl and give the youngest some space with her.

Jeongin sat back on the edge of the bed, his fingers carding through her hair gently as she used to do with his fur when they would meet at the river. She stirred lightly, eyelids fluttering a bit but they never opened. “J-Jeongin?” She spoke softly and his heart clenched. “I’m right here- I’m here, pretty.”

A soft smile reached her lips and her body seemed to relax as she drifted back to sleep once more. She must have heard him earlier, she said his name! He never thought his name sounded lovelier than coming from her lips. Jeongin let go of her hand and shifted back into his fox form, curling up beside of her on the bed and letting himself rest as well. It had been a long day and his exhaustion was finally catching up with him now that he knew she was safe. The last thought he had before drifting off was that he never wanted to let her out of his sight again, his pretty human girl.

author’s note; aaahh my first ever hybrid fic! I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it~~ big thanks to @chancloud8 for cheering me on and helping me whenever I hit a bump in the road and needed advice! Looking forward to continuing this story (though don’t worry I’m still working on my other series as well~) as usual lmk if you would like to be added to the taglist for this series~~ ᕱᕱ₊˚⊹♡

taglist; @coastinglove @estella-novella @chancloud8 @skzswife @motheraiya55 @zofia515 @skybluelixie

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Good Omens graphic novel update: April 2024

Admin & updates

PledgeManager

Earlier this month, we launched the PledgeManager, where shipping is being facilitated. If you missed it, you can read the initial announcement here. We have been adapting the FAQ page to add further recurring asks, so please do visit there if you have a particular query as a starting point. You can view this here. We are working through all queries received - some are taking a bit longer than others, as they need to be raised with PledgeManager, or others involved, so we appreciate your patience in these instances where we are yet to get back. The most common question, which we include here, is the sock sizes:

If you need to change your size, you have the ability to self-unlock your order and make any adjustments you need to. For socks that are part of a tier, there is a button to unlock and modify on the bottom of your receipt where you can alter your choice. If they were an add on, PledgeManager recommends that you remove the item from your cart and add it again with the correct size selected and complete their order to finalize the change.

Shipping

We are also aware of queries arising about the shipping rates themselves. While we have been open from the start of the project that shipping will be charged at a later date, we understand that the resultant cost has come as a surprise to some and that some prices are higher than expected. We want to be transparent on this: we have been working with our fulfillment partners on confirming product weights and the rates for shipping globally during the months since the project’s completion. The cost of doing this ethically - ensuring that everyone involved in the process from creators to those packing boxes is paid fairly, as well as ensuring the packaging is robust at this scale - is substantial.

We’ve done our best to minimise extra costs around shipping, while also not cutting any corners – we want your pledge rewards to reach you safe and sound. We have also subsidised costs across a number of territories, but costs for shipping to many locations remain high. The final thing we’ve done is lock in shipping costs now, a year out from fulfillment. We expect third party shipping costs to increase over the coming year, following the upwards trends across the board so far, but we will continue to absorb any subsequent rises.

We want to assure backers that the shipping does not include a profit margin for us, and every charge to our backers is something we’ve tried to minimise.

We absolutely understand that this is disappointing to many, and we endeavour to keep making the surrounding campaign the best it can be.

The timeline

The PledgeManager will run across 2024, and close at some point ahead of publication date (Spring 2025). When that date has been decided, we will give everyone as much notice as possible.

FAQ

As above, here is the centralised FAQ page. This will be updated over the coming year.

Cameos

Prior updates had noted the deadline for this has passed, however given the new publication date of the graphic novel, this has been extended slightly for God Tier and Archangel Tier backers. Please check your messages and emails if you backed either of these tiers and have not submitted your likeness.

Merch and more

Things are ramping up at Good Omens HQ, first of all with this delivery of one or two mugs at the warehouse:

We’ve also got David Aja’s print featuring Aziraphale, Crowley and Dog, in their glorious orangey hues which will appear in Serpent Tier+:

The trading cards are at the testing stage for game mechanics, while some of the early design prototypes are in for artist variants and we really can’t wait to start sharing these with you when they’re a bit further down the road. Almost there.

For those ready to capture your inner Pratchett and Gaiman on the page (Demon+), we have your notebooks:

More from Colleen…

We’ve continued to see gorgeous artwork arrive from Colleen and here’s one that slipped into our inbox this week:

And we thought we’d sign off this month with a glimpse at our favourite antiquarian bookshop:

[heartfullofleeches]

Maniac

Yans (Nerd, Bully, Student Council) + Dismissive Creep Reader Blurb [G.N All]

Warning: Bullying, mentions of dead animals, violence, death

(An: Never been huge of the school setting but this came up while listening to a song with the same title. If you can guess it you get a cookie)

Creep Reader who's friends with the school punching bag. Saying they're acquaintanced is a bit of a stretch as nerd hangs out with them because nobody bothers them when they sit next to this freak and they dress their wounds, and Creep only tolerates them because they take pictures of every blossoming bruise and cut.

You never offer input in their one-sided conversations, scribbling away in that notebook of yours as they go insane rambling on about what their bullies did that day and how it feels everyone appears to be out to get them. All you ever do with anyone is watch, listen, and write. It's honestly like talking to a brick wall sometimes.... which is why they had no problem accepting the only good advice ever given to them.

"Y'know.... Even if I report this to the principal it wouldn't stop. They'll get suspended for a few days and when they come back - they'll probably just kill you. If you want this to stop, you need to find a new target for them."

A new target...There's only one person more of a freak than them.

"Y/n takes pictures of dead animals."

The rumor spread like wildfire. A tale spun by a sock puppet account and sprinkled throughout the halls. Really, even they weren't sure if the rumor was true or not, but with that camera and your track record it wasn't out of possibility. All eyes were immediately on you. Your phone number was leaked and the threats and queries poured in. People would point at carcasses on the road and make sure you were in earshot when they joked about hoping nobody was taking pictures. They went so far as to sneak a dead bird in your bag when you weren't looking and poured milk on your items when they couldn't find any. They stole your gym clothes, wrote foul things on your desk and locket - but none of them had ever touched you.

As expected, you had no reaction to this. That's the thing your "friend" had always been jealous of you for. So closed off from the world, from the pain it gives. With nobody slamming their head in the lockers anymore, people began to appreciate their talents and hobbies. They made friends. Real ones. They naturally started to drift away from you, but they always stopped when they saw you in the halls.

"Hey, Y/n.... How have you been?"

"Fine."

"None of this is bothering you?..."

"As long as they don't touch me - I'm fine."

All that's where you left the conversation - and your friendship. Your dismissal to it all lead many to give up after a few weeks, but one remained. The same blight on your friend's life since the start of school. Sure, your reactions were lackluster - but they knew they could break you. It was only a matter of time - and you had just given them the key.

"Hey - Freak!"

Your head bounces off the metal door as you're thrown into your locker.

"Can't touch you, huh? The fuck are you going to do about it?"

You rise to your feet, touching the wet spot at the back of your skull. "If we're going to do this, it's better we do it where nobody can see us."

"Ha? - don't want people to see you lose a few teeth? Fine, I got a big game in a few weeks and rather not get expelled before then."

"Sure."

Your former watches as you're lead behind the school. They should do something, call a teacher - but they're too afraid. The weight of the situation falls on them as you disappear from sight. You're going to get hurt and it's all their fault. Your bully cooks up all the things they plan on doing to you, cracking their knuckles and damn near salivating at the thought of seeing your stone face crumple. They're too preoccupied with their threats to notice you pulling something out of your pocket. Their foot falls off the concrete path and into the grassy terrain as they ready their fists, doubling over in pain as pain splits up their side. They vomit spittle and their own words as they look up, metal bars wrapped around your hands.

"what....the fuck."

"Get up."

Gritting their teeth, the bully drags themselves to their feet - back on their knees before they can stand as your fist barrels into their stomach. You grab both sides of their head and ram your knee into the facture scar on their nose. You're unrelenting even as they fall back on their ass, removing your metal knuckles and mounting them as you ball your fists. You weren't ready for a murder charge just let. Over and over, your balled hand cracks against their face and jaw - drawing red with each wet smack. You stop only to switch you your unbruised hand - their arms shooting up in defense.

"please...."

"..."

"stop...."

"Isn't that what people ask you?"

You climb off their battered body, lifting one leg under your arm. "I've studied people for a while. Writing scenarios where I could ruin lives is much better for all of us than actually doing it. I know things about you too... Your family paid off your younger brother's teacher so he got get into that nice college - and you have a full ride... If you can still use both legs."

Tears prick their eyes. They fight to keep them in. This was their future you were playing with. "I'm sorry! I won't hurt anyone again I promise!"

Your grip tightens "I don't care about everyone."

"I won't mess with you anymore!"

They flinch as you drop their leg. "Good." Waking over to your discarded backpack, you retrieve your med kit and camera - dropping down beside them as you remove the lense.

"Smile."

Their eyes burn as the camera flash goes off. You set the camera aside as you open the kit and pull out an alcohol swab - pinning them to the ground as you apply it to their split cheek.

"Ow! The fuck are you doing now?"

"Quiet."

"Get the fuck off me!"

"You have a game in a few weeks, don't you? I don't think I broke anything, but you probably don't want the other team to see you with bruises."

-

The following Monday, your bully greets you all smiles and pleasant as if you were the best of friends. They could do the exact same thing as you and study you like an animal in a zoo to inact their revenge. Anyone who still picked on you quickly turned on their heels when they saw you with their click. They bragged while you were away about how they planned to tear your life to shreds so hard the damage would last long after school. It was going to be the peak of their year -

"Drink this."

"An energy drink? If you wanted to posion me, you could've done it with something better."

"The seal is still intact. No amount of chapstick will fix your dry lips, because you're dehydrated. An athlete should know better than that."

Their fingers instinctly fly to their lips. How did you?.... You did say you had been watching. They didn't know nor understand the full reach of your knowledge until they got a happy birthday message from an unknown number and a speaker ended up in a pool when they were urged to jump in. They had a fear of water since adolescence after nearly drowning at a lake. You never took charge for this acts and mostly blended into the crowd when they happened. You picked up your old hobby of patching their injuries and taking photos as payment. Why were you doing so much for someone who wanted to make you suffer?

"We're friends.... aren't we?"

Huh?

"Besides, if I stick with you, I don't have to look up gore sites anymore - or take pictures of dead animals."

You're such a fucking freak. A freak - that was starting to grow on them.

You became the person they'd look for first during school - when they needed a shoulder to cry on. You rarely offered comfort, but a pat on the shoulders was good enough for them. Their hand would find your shoulder or waist so frequently that rumors began spreading that you were dating - until people found out every touch was met with a light punch to their bruised ribs. They'd just laugh it off and apologize before doing it again an hour later.

Your former friend was having the time of their life - for a while. Something felt... artificial about their new friends. They had a good time at school and when they got together on weekends, but nobody was there for them at any other time. No one to vent to or wish them happy birthday exactly when it turned midnight - like you used you. They missed you. More than anything.

"Hey - give me Y/n's number."

Been a while since they've been in this scenario. Why was your shared bully asking them for your number?

"H-huh? Why?...."

"I had to get a new phone and can't remember the last digits. Stop asking questions and give it to me."

"Okay!"

The bully snatches their phone and punches the number into theirs - eyes softening as the line connects. "Y/n..... What? Of course it's me. I got a new phone. Anyway, I got tickets to that one movie that's coming out this week - the one that got pushed back because the prop knife turned out to be real? You coming or not?... Good."

Your former friend catches their phone as it's tossed back to them - watching their bully walk away with the flush of a middle schooler confessing to their crush. They hadn't been hit at all during the altercation, but their chest hurt hearing your voice after so long away from you - even faintly.

They find you the next day at the top of the roof. It was your favorite hiding place, and the only one your bully hadn't found yet. They sit quietly beside you.

"How have you been?..."

"Fine..."

They purse their lips together. "What...did you do to make them stop?"

"Put them in their place."

"What do you mean by that?"

You point your camera at the passing crowd. "At our age, people only have as much power as you give them. If you stand your ground they'll typically back down, and if they don't - you beat the to a pulp and ruin their families lives."

Your friend can't stop the tears from flowing. You had always been the strong one, that they knew - but how could you handle things so easily? How could they betray you like that? Their only companion in this world - thrown to the wolves when you should've been their for each other.

"It was you wasn't it?"

You stand up.

"Stay away from me."

They reach out to grab you - mend the tattered strings of your friendship. "Don't leave me. I did it, okay? I did it, and I'm so so sorry. Y/n, please forgive me - I couldn't take it anymore. I'd go back to the way things were if it meant you were still with me. Please, Y/n, I'm in lo-"

Their vision blanks, speckles of blood littering the ground floor from their split lip. You lower your hand back down to your camera.

"Don't lie to me. Or yourself like that."

It hurts... Everything hurts.... Still, they smile - showing you the bloodied whites of their teeth.

""ahhh.... Y/n, I'm... I'm bleeding. Don't you want to take a picture of me? Aren't I still beautiful to you? Aren't I good enough?"

You don't grace them with a reply, walking off as they curl into themself. It hurts - their mouth is numb, but it hurts all over. Please, come back. Let them their their head on your shoulder until the pain goes away. Y/n... Please.

"I'm sorry...."

"But are you really though?"

They cover their ears with their hands. Shut up. Go away. If they'd done their job probably - none of these would've happened. The student council president. The worthless coward didn't even have the courage to come themself. Just another lackey doing their bidding.

"Leave me alone."

"Ugh, you're so whiny. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

"I just wanted I break - I didn't mean to hurt them."

"Yea, yeah that's what your like always says. Misery sure does love company, though. I genuinely don't see what the prez likes about that fucking creep. They're wasting their time and blood for them."

Shut up. "Don't talking about Y/n like that?"

"But you had no problem with it when it was for benefit. What did you call them? A psychopath?"

"I didn't have anywhere else to go....."

"Keep telling yourself that. I can't decide who'd I'd take more - the backstabber, or the maniac."

"SHUT UP!"

-

Walking down the steps to the first floor, you crash into someone skipping their way in the same direction.

"Ah - Y/n!" The student council president grins, picking up your fallen camera. "Good morning, good morning! And how are you doing ok this lovely day?"

"Fine."

"Faaaantastic." They point at their cheek sweeping blood on the shell of your camera. "As you can see here, I had a little bitty accident in my culinary class. I'm such a clutz, aren't I? If you give me one of those cute bandages, I'll take a picture of this cut and smile real pretty for ya!"

"Whatever." The president hums as you fish around in your bag, smiling big for their future spouse - deleting as many pictures as they can of others in that short time. If only they hadn't been out sick when the rumors spread. Then maybe you wouldn't be on that awful bully's arm and in theirs instead. They refused to let this little setback running your future together. After all, they were willing to bleed for you on their own Accord unlike everyone else in your album.

Unfortunately, they were upstaged once again - but their own council member too. They frown as the screams begin. They spit on the floor as blood splatters across the windows.

Couldn't go kill yourself somewhere else?

-

At the rooftop, panic takes flight. No no no... They didn't mean to do it. Their hands flew out before their brain could tell them no. The blood pools like a broken jug. A crowd surrounds the body. Nobody can see them from their place on the roof floor, but they can see everyone. A figure wearing a jacket that was once theirs, dyed with their blood and tears. The camera that hangs around that person's neck. The shutter of the lense. They laugh - finally understanding what they had to do to get you back.

You really did like taking pictures of dead animals afterall....

[immortalmrwavell]

Getting into Sports

(Written for @transformee)

(Original story posted December 31st 2021) This story has been significantly Updated!

Adam woke up bright and early with a big stretch. Today was his day off so naturally he was excited to just chill out and do whatever for the day. He pulled himself outta bed before groggily strolling up to his wardrobe to pick out some comfortable clothes. Though as he looked over his clothes, he sighed. He pretty much rotated between three different outfits nowadays as most of his clothes had worn out and needed replacing. Maybe it was time to do a bit of clothes shopping.

After throwing on whatever decent clothes he could find, Adam grabbed his keys and wallet before heading out. He was on his way down town when he passed a certain shop. He’d been down this road so many times but somehow he’d never noticed this shop. Just looking at it was giving him weird vibes…

It appeared to be a clothing shop. ‘Threads for Life’ it was called. It seemed so strange and out of place yet Adam couldn’t help feeling drawn to it. Well the whole reason he went out was for some new clothes so why not have a quick look around.

He soon found himself pushing open the door with a creak, causing a bell to jingle. The first thing he saw was multiple rows of clothing racks that extended down the length of the store. It almost certainly seemed bigger on the inside than it looked from the outside. Scanning his eyes across the shop he also noticed that the majority of the clothes seemed to be sold as outfits rather than individual items.

Soon after Adam was greeted by a short man looking to be in his mid 50’s. He kindly introduced himself as Tony. With a big smile, the man explained that he was the shopkeeper and was more than happy to help in any way that he could. He seemed sweet and even offered to walk Adam around the shop to help him find something. Adam shrugged and accepted the offer, allowing Tony to begin leading him down the many aisles of clothing.

As the two walked, Tony pointed out various outfits to Adam. Though as he did, Adam quickly began to notice the more unusual clothing the shop sold. There were some regular clothes sure but he could help noticing more and more costume fits as he was guided through the isles. Things like firefighter uniforms and police uniforms that definitely didn’t seem like the cheap costumes you’d find around Halloween. They were incredibly detailed and well made. They almost looked as though they’d been ripped for actual people in those professions…

“Would you mind if I asked a question sir? Tony asked politely, prompting Adam to respond with a simple nod. “Have you ever been into sports?”

Adam thought it was an odd question but gave an answer anyway. “Well I guess I like watching it sometimes but I wouldn’t say I’m into it. I always thought about playing more sports when I was younger but just never really found the motivation I guess.” He responded truthfully.

“Well it’s never too late to get into it. Especially at your age. What are you 30? 32?” The older man eyed Adam’s frame up and down. He was of average build. Not too fat but not too skinny either. “Maybe buying yourself something a little sporty will help get you into the right mindset!” Tony insisted as he led Adam towards the more sports themed section of the shop.

Adam didn’t really see how buying some random sports gear would make him wanna play more sports but decided he decided to humour the sweet older gentleman.

Looking through the clothing racks he saw kits for all kinds of different sports. Baseball, Tennis, Football and so on. They stopped however when Tony pulled a white Rugby kit off one of the racks. It looked far too big for Adam yet Tony insisted that he at least go and try it on. Adam raised an eyebrow. It had to be a joke right? He let out an amused huff as he took the large t-shirt and shorts before Tony handed him the matching rugby socks and cleats.

Tony pointed Adam in the direction of the changing rooms where he entered a stall and closed the curtain behind him. Placing the rugby kit on the bench, Adam fo7nd himself getting undressed and wondering what the hell he was even doing here. As he put his clothes to one side he looked at himself in the mirror. Looking at his somewhat out of shape body. He was fine with the way he looked now but the thought of losing some weight and gaining some muscle certainly was an attractive one. He figured trying to get into sports might not be that bad of an idea if he gets him into a more active lifestyle.

Picking up the white shorts from the bench, Adam chuckled to himself. There was no way this stuff was gonna fit him but it didn’t seem like Tony was gonna take no for an answer until he was proved wrong. And so, with a sigh, Adam slipped his legs into the shorts and pulled them up. To his surprise the waistband managed to keep the shorts up, albeit very loosely. Adam then tugged on the oversized shirt which hung just as loosely as it consumed his upper body.

It was then he realised that the clothes had a bit of an odd scent. Almost sweaty? As though they’d been recently worn and used. He would’ve complained but… he actually found himself enjoying the smell a little. It sounded weird but the faint masculine aroma was oddly alluring.

Shortly after Adam pulled on the rugby socks. Pulling them all the way up his calves and even then they still felt a little big. That said he found his feet feeling ever so slightly damp with the cold sweat of someone else having stained the socks. And yet he embraced it as he moved onto the cleats, shoving his feet inside. Once again they were clearly a few sizes too big like everything else. Only then did he finally get back up and take a look in the mirror.

He looked ridiculous.

As he already knew, the kit was far too big for him and was practically hanging off his body. “Tch… why did I let that guy talk me into this?” He muttered to himself with a small chuckle. He was just about to step out and prove to Tony how ill fitting the clothes were when he noticed something peculiar. On the shirt there appeared to be a name on the bottom left corner. It didn’t look to be be part of the brand name or anything. More like the name of an owner.

‘Joe Marler’ it said. Only then did a tingling sensation shoot like lightning through Adam’s body. It was finally beginning.

It all started with Adam’s hands growing. He looked down at them in shock and disbelief as they enlarged before his very eyes. Becoming thicker and more calloused by the second. To mirror this, his feet started to expand as well. The once oversized socks began to stretch as his growing feet started to fill out the rugby cleats comfortably.

After that the transformation began to intensify. The changes spread from his hands and feet up towards his arms and legs causing said limbs to shorten ever so slightly. Adam found himself stumbling a little as height shifted, dropping from 6’1 to 6’0 exactly. It was only a single inch but that alone was enough to throw Adam off balance. He leaned against the wall to steady himself as his limbs began to pulse. Pure transformative energy flooded through his body. Every vein. Every muscle. Preparing Adam’s body for the insane growth to come.

His legs were the first to hulk out. His calves and thighs swelled with new mass seemingly out of nowhere. Bulging thicker by the second with levels of size and strength Adam had never before experienced. They grew in enormous trunks of solid muscle meant for both speed and strength when carrying a powerful frame that was yet to come. His thighs were so huge that they couldn’t help rubbing together as they filled out the white shirts perfectly. If anything the shirts began to grow a little tight as Adam’s ass changed next, ballooning into a huge jock butt. His cheeks grew round and plump with a healthy mix of fat and muscle. The kind of ass that would threaten to rip the seams of any pair of pants he wore from now on if he dared to squat or bend down.

By this point Adam was in a daze. On the inside he was shocked by the ongoing transformation but the magic surrounding it filled his mind with a strong haze. It was almost like being drunk. However that didn’t stop him from letting out a long moan when the transformation spread towards his crotch.

There was a strange pulling sensation. It was as though an invisible hand was grabbing his cock and gently tugging on it. And with every tug his cock inched outwards, growing lengthier by the second. Adam couldn’t help subtly bucking his hips to the feeling due to his masculine instinct. His bulge became more and more noticeable until his dick reached a flaccid size of around 6 inches. With that his erect length was bound to be enormous. But it didn’t stop there as the tugging sensation he felt switched to the feeling of a hand squeezing his shaft instead. And with every squeeze it thickened. Becoming fatter and girthier until the outline of his cock was visible through the shorts. And to finish it off the feeling finally moved towards his balls. Massaging them gently like the prized jewels they were as they grew larger and heavier until Adam had a pair of fat full balls to match his intimidating cock.

Adam’s hazy mind didn’t get much chance to process his enormous new manhood as his arms started to pulse. The muscles tightening and relaxing over and over in quick succession as the magic moved through them. Then without warning his biceps, triceps and forearms engorged themselves with muscle. Once again mass added itself onto Adam’s frame seemingly out of thin air, causing his arms to balloon to new and powerful sizes. Once again adorning a layer of healthy fat on top of the muscle to give his arms a thicker, brawnier look just like his massive legs.

His torso had already begun to grow in response to his arms and legs but now the focus was shifting fully towards it. But not before his shoulders and traps had a chance to bulk up considerably. Further broadening his frame and forcing him to take up more space.

Adam jutted around a little as his waist grew wider. The small belly Adam had strengthened as it grew into a powerful gut. He still might not have had visible abs but his core still grew a hell of a lot stronger. And now that belly fat he once had was being fairly distributed to give him a far more burly frame. The type of body most would refer to as a muscle bear. This only became more true as Adam’s pecs practically inflated like two meaty beachballs waiting to be groped and massaged. They filled out the previously baggy shirt gloriously. Said shirt stretching nice and tight as his back finished broadening as well

By this point Adam’s entire body had morphed into something unrecognisable. Into his beefy collosus of a man he hardly recognised in the mirror before him. The meaty legs and bulky arms. Not to mention the bubbly butt. He had the body of a man who worked out almost every day and probably ate like an animal to maintain all this size. The only thing left that Adam could recognise was his face. But even that wouldn’t last.

His neck had already grown thicker along with his shoulders and traps, but now the lump in his throat was changing. Lowering his voice a couple octaves until he found himself letting out very deep and gruff moans. He now had the deep baritone voice of a man that would’ve previously melted him into a puddle. Just hearing it escape his lips in the form of masculine moans was making his cock twitch his knees wobble.

But with that his head started to buzz. It began reshaping itself as the features prepared themselves to morph. The feeling was different from everything else. Up until now his transformation had felt raw and forceful. But this was gentle and delicate. Like multiple pairs of hands massaging every inch of his head and remodeling it as if he were a clay sculpture. Sharpening certain features while dulling others. Mostly giving Adam’s face a rougher and more masculine look. This also extended to his hair as the short salt and pepper cut he adorned shrunk and receded back into his scalp, leaving him with a shaved head. Yet on the opposite side, his once clean shaven face found itself sprouting a thick full beard.

But the changes to his head weren’t just physical. They were mental too. He could feel his brain being molded just like everything else had been. Mostly he could feel his IQ draining. Getting dumber and dumber by the second. Replacing all that lost intelligence with knowledge about all sorts of different sports along with gym know how. Along with that he could feel his personality changing that of a boisterous and confident man who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind.

With that, Adam sensed the transformation was finally over as whatever strange magic had overtaken his body subsided. He looked in the mirror once again, awestruck by the sight.

One of the first things he did was run a thick hand across his bald head. All he felt was a thin and tiny layer of hair up there and not much of a hairline either. He then ran his hands through his new beard, really enjoying how it felt under his touch.

Adam’s entire body just transformed before his very eyes. He should’ve been freakung the fuck out! And yet somehow he felt calm. Not only that but just so focused on his new burly form. It was mesmerizing to look at. He knew it wasn’t his but at the same time it felt so right. Like this was how he was supposed to look.

Looking away from the mirror and down at his actual body, Adam could truly see that all the clothes now fit his body perfectly now. Almost like they made for him. His pecs pressed generously against the shirt in a way that showed off his rigid nipples. He just couldn’t stop himself from tweaking them a little, letting out a deep groan in the process. Going on to further explore his new chest and stomach by running those bearish hands up and down his torso.

Naturally he then did what almost any man in his situation would do. He curled each hand into a fist before raising up both arms and flexing his biceps nice and hard. Watching gleefully as the muscle bulged in a display of his newfound strength. Adam’s eyes didn’t know whether to dart between each arm or to look back into the mirror to see his bulky reflection flexing back at him.

All the while it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore his hardening cock. By now it was nearing its full girthy length of 8.5 inches and the outline in his shorts was painfully obvious. He’d need to learn how to control his new beast because any unwanted erections from now on were gonna be difficult to hide.

A short time later Tony finally decided to check in on Adam and see if everything had gone to plan. “So, did you find everything alright?” Tony asked as he carelessly peered around the curtain. Immediately he was greeted by the sight of a hulking rugby player with his shorts around his ankles as he groped at his fat new jock butt. Jiggling it with a dumb laugh as his cock stood upright at full attention.

Adam should’ve been embarrassed when he saw Tony peeping in on him but he was too horny to care. “Yeah this kit is amazing brother! But would you mind if I just had a minute to… relieve some of this pressure?” He grabbed his cock with a stupid grin before facing the mirror again.

“Well normally I’d say yes. I don’t mind if my customers have a little fun after finding a new fit but a new customer just walked in and I’ve only got the one changing room.” Tony claimed before looking over his shoulder to see another man browsing the aisles behind him. “But I don’t want to leave you unsatisfied so how about I speed things along for you?” Tony smiled before pointing at Adam’s thick new cock. A little beam of light shot from Tony’s finger and hit Adam’s cock directly and caused it to glow.

“OooOOhhhh FuUUcccCckk… Whhaat did You Doooo??…” Adam groaned like an animal as immeasurable amounts of pleasure flowed through his crotch. It felt as if he were being given a hundred blowjobs all at once! He tossed his head back in pure bliss as his cock bucked and pulsed uncontrollably before finally erupting with a blast of cum that emptied his bull balls completely, splattering the mirror with his seed in the process.

“That was an orgasm spell. A little magic trick I learned quite a while back. Does exactly what it says and causes the target to have an extreamly powerful and almost instant orgasm.” Tony explained. “Now get those shorts pulled back up big fella. You’ve got a whole new life to live out there in the world.”

Adam did just that, wiping off his cock before tugging up *his* underwear and shorts. Once again adoring the reflection that stared back at him in that mirror. He’d never imagined having a body like this. Large, thick and powerful. But it all his now and he couldn’t have been more delighted.

“Oh and just before you leave… could you please take your mess with you?” Tony pointed a finger towards the cumstained mirror.

“Sure thing brother. You got anything I can use to clean it with!” Adam asked with a laugh.

Tony shook his head while still pointing a finger at the splattered mirror. “No need.” With that the sticky man seed found itself detaching from the mirror on its own as all the cum gathered itself in a small blob floating up in the air. Adam hardly had a chance to react before Tony pointed his finger towards the burly man. The entire load flew towards the new rugby player at blinding speed before forcing itself into his open mouth. Adam’s eyes widened with surprise as he found himself being forced to swallow his own salty nut.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Adam shouted moments later. “Could’ve given me a warning…” he tried his best to sound annoyed but honestly he was kinda turned again already.

And with that, Adam was free to leave the shop which had changed his life forever. On his way out he saw the new customer who was still browsing. He grinned to himself knowing they wouldn’t be the same when they walked out either. But that's none of his concern.

Now he was just a big dumb rugby jock who’s only real concerns in life now were fucking dudes, getting fucked by dudes and playing sports.

[chaotic-orphan]

Heyy a writing request! How about a whumpee that wakes up on the side of a road and someone finds them (that someone can be whumper or just a stranger your choice :D)

Whumpee was shivering violently when they woke up. Had Whumper taken their blankets again? The rock of a mattress they lay on seemed more firm and cold than before and Whumpee moaned, reaching for the covers just in case they were kicked off the bed somewhere.

Whumpee’s hand wound through something wet and stringy and their eyes flew open.

They weren’t in the room.

They weren’t in their cell that they had called home for who knows how long? Whumpee shot awake, eyes wild and frantic. The darkness surrounded them and took a while for their eyes to adjust as they scrambled back on grass.

The memory came flooding back then and Whumpee stilled. They… they had escaped Whumper, they made a break for it and they ran and ran and ran, and ran some more and… they must have lay down to rest for a while or passed out or something. But they ran! They hoped they were far enough away now to be safe. They didn’t even remember the direction they were running from, they just kept running.

Whumpee wrapped their arms around themselves and shakily got to their feet. Their teeth were chattering uncontrollably, the sound grating a headache that was scraping itself around the edge’s of Whumpee’s skull.

They were still out.

They had broken out of Whumper’s home.

They had escaped Whumper…

That thought warmed their chest and Whumpee… for the first time in a long time, Whumpee smiled to themselves and laughed like a madman into the night air.

Okay, first things first, find a road and then follow it to civilisation. Whumpee could do that. They could do that. They could wave down a car with the sound of their chattering teeth it was so fucking loud.

They laughed to themselves again. Jesus, when was the last time they laughed?

They found the road pretty quickly, it was a miles walk away and then followed it along, walking hopefully in the direction away from Whumper. It was hard to tell in the dark where they were, but they were… they were outside. They were free.

Holy fuck… they were free.

They were freezing; the socks on their feet soaked through and their feet more like two frozen, cement blocks attached to their legs but they were moving and they were away from Whumper, and…

oh god, was Whumper…

They stopped dead in their tracks.

What if the next car that drove by them was Whumper, looking for them? What if Whumpee accidentally flags them down and Whumper opens the door and tells them to get in, god, no. They couldn’t go back.

They couldn’t go back.

Fuck, fuck, they couldn’t catch their breath, it eluded them and they thought it was better to go towards the light. Go into the light. Whumper wouldn’t be in—

A honk of a car horn and the sound of brakes squealing and Whumpee turned away, their hands over their head as a car swerved around them. Whumpee flinched, eyes wild as they turned and looked into the car, but there was nobody inside.

“What the FUCK were you doing?!” A harsh voice demanded furiously. Whumpee backed up as a man approached them, they shook their head, hands flying up in front of them to make the stranger stay back.

“No, no, no, I’m sorry, please!”

“You’re in the middle of the fucking road!” The man bellowed. “What do you mean you’re sorry, I could have hit you! I could have killed you, you fucking—”

The man stopped when Whumpee whimpered. The man’s quiet was worse than when he was giving out to Whumpee. “Hey… sorry, um, sorry for shouting, you scared me is all. I was…”

“I’m sorry sir…”

“No, hey, no. Listen, I— sorry. You uh—” Whumpee looked over at the man. “You have no fucking shoes on. What the fuck? It’s almost freezing and you’re playing Tarzan in the fucking woods? Get in the car.”

Whumpee froze. “What?”

“Get in my car. It’s freezing! You need to warm up or you’ll get pneumonia or something.”

“No, uh, thanks.” Whumpee said, hard to get words out their mouth was chattering so uncontrollably. “I’m— I’m—”

“Look, you’re not okay. We both know that. Don’t insult my intelligence by saying otherwise either. I’ll give you a lift into town, and maybe some socks. That’s all I’m offering. You’ll die before you reach the nearest town walking.”

Whumpee stared at Caretaker. Something like realisation flashed across Caretaker’s face, though it was hard to see in the dark, Whumpee could feel the shift.

“Oh. Right. I’m uh, like… I’m not a serial killer or anything.” He laughed then turned, his hand going to the back of his neck and rubbing at the skin. “Although that’s probably what a serial killer would say.”

Whumpee let out a breath of a laugh. “Most people would say I’m not a murderer, how many people you killed?”

Caretaker’s head snapped up. “No! No, I didn’t, I haven’t— ahahah, I’m not a murderer either, my hands are clean! Look.”

Whumpee felt their fear leave their body as they laughed again. God they felt so light when they laughed. It had been so long since he did so freely.

“Okay. I’ll take the lift.”

Caretaker smiled. A flash of teeth. “Great. Come on, I’m fucking freezing.”

Whumpee followed him to the car and climbed in the passenger side. He was right. The car was warm. When Caretaker climbed in and shut his door he blasted the heat on Whumpee’s face, body and feet. Whumpee melted into the warm leather like goo.

“Oh yeah. Heated seats are nice, huh?” Caretaker asked as he moved the gear stick and reversed before the car pulled off down the road again and they were driving.

“Really nice,” Whumpee hummed, watching the blackness of trees melt into one constant loop as they drove.

After a while Whumpee could feel a question buried beneath Caretaker’s tongue brewing. Maybe because he glanced at Whumpee every so often, catching Whumpee’s attention from the corner of their eye. Maybe it was because his fingers drummed a beat against the steering wheel.

Eventually, Caretaker plucked up the courage and asked: “Can I ask why you were out here on your own? With no shoes? And looking five minutes away from death?”

Whumpee swallowed, and it seemed like the warmth was sapped from their body. The thought of mentioning Whumper sent a shiver down their spine despite the heat, and they debated whether or not they should tell Caretaker.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Whumpee said, their voice quiet.

A pause. “Okay.”

A beat. “It’s just that it’s dangerous to be outside in this weather. And alone in the woods? You’d never know who you’d run into. There’s dangerous people out here,” Caretaker said.

I know, Whumpee thought, but didn’t say. Whumpee shrugged.

Caretaker shaked their head. “You’re lucky I found you,” Caretaker said with a little laugh. “I mean, I wouldn’t even be out here usually. I guess it’s fate that I happened upon you. I’m Caretaker by the way.”

“Whumpee,” Whumpee replied.

Caretaker smiled. “Nice to meet you Whumpee. Are you warm enough?”

“Yeah,” Whumpee said with a smile. They were warm now, and toasty.

“Thank god,” Caretaker said and turned down the heat. “Sorry, I run hot,” he said by way of apology.

Whumpee laughed. “You should have told me.”

“I had to thaw you out first. Don’t want you dying on me in the passenger seat.”

He kept glancing ag Whumpee from the corner of his eye. “Hey, you look— well, like shit, but exhausted. Just relax and try to get some rest. I’ll let you know when we’re in town and we can bring you to the police station or something, okay?”

Whumpee hummed their answer. They didn’t know if it was a yeah or no, because the mixture of the heat and the hum of the car lulled Whumpee into a heavy, deep sleep.

They woke when the car turned into a driveway, slowing down as it went, the bumps jostling Whumpee’s head and they opened their eyes, blinking awake.

“Ah, sorry for the road,” Caretaker said with a little laugh as they continued down a tree lined road. “I just have to stop off at a friend’s before we go to the town, if that’s okay? It’s uh… kinda the whole reason I’m out this way at all.”

“Yeah, no,” Whumpee said nodding and stretching as they sat up properly. “That’s fine.”

“Thanks, my friend isn’t exactly known for being patient.”

Whumpee laughed, thinking of friend. “We all have some friends like that. It’s all good.”

Caretaker laughed too, his shoulders relaxing a bit as they took the last turn into a drive. “Yeah. I guess we do.”

Only when the house came into view did Whumpee stiffen in their seat. They were… that was… fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Was Caretaker— were they? Oh god, Whumpee got in the car willingly, like an idiot.

Whumper is impatient. Whumpee knew that.

“You— you—” Whumpee stammered. Caretaker smiled over at Whumpee but his eyes immediately widened, suddenly concerned.

“Hey, Whumpee. It’s okay! It’s— this is just my friend’s house.”

“I— you… Whumper—”

“Whumper?” Caretaker asked, a furrow forming between his brows. “How do you know Whumper’s name?”

“I have to— you—” Whumpee stuttered, hands flailing as they reached for the handle of the door. The car was locked. Oh god. Oh fuck. “Please, please, don’t send me back there. I’ll be good. I promise! I promise!”

Whumpee yanked on the handle over and over. “Please!” They wailed, tears streaming down their cheeks. “Please, fuck… I only— I just—”

The car stopped suddenly. Caretaker’s foot slammed on the brake and the two of them lurched forwards. Whumpee gasped as they were flung back against the seat.

Caretaker turned their body to face Whumpee. “Whumpee! Look at me! Look at me, now!”

Whumpee flinched at the harsh tone but obeyed. Caretaker’s eyes were still wide with concern but now something else lingered behind that concern, something horrified and confused.

“Are you… are you saying you look like death because of Whumper?”

Whumpee shook in the heated seat beside Caretaker. If they said yes, what would Caretaker do? Bring them back, drag them by the hair? What if Whumper wasn’t bothered to go out and look for them so he called his friend to pick Whumpee up on the way?

A knock on the window and the pair jumped. Caretaker turned, swallowed and rolled the window down a fraction.

“Hey,” a smiling voice greeted them. Whumpee froze in their seat. That was… Whumper, oh god. He was here. It was only a matter of time before he saw and when he did— “I saw the lights but then you stopped up here, just came to make sure you didn’t have a puncture or anything.”

“No,” Caretaker said quickly. “Sorry, thought I saw a deer. You never know out here.”

Whumper laughed. Whumpee swallowed a whimper. “Yeah. You’re right. Okay then, see you back at the house. It’s freezing out. I’ll leave the door open, just let yourself in.”

Caretaker didn’t hesitate. He kept up his friendly demeanour as he spoke to Whumper like they were old friends, which they were, Whumpee had to remind themselves.

“Yeah, of course. Go. It’s supposed to go below zero today, so get inside. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Cool,” Whumper said and tapped the car twice before his footsteps disappeared into the darkness. Caretaker didn’t roll up the window until he was sure Whumper was gone.

The pair of them sat like icicles, too afraid to move and break the weighted silence around them. Eventually, Caretaker snapped out of it and rolled the window up. Then he straightened.

“Did Whumper hurt you?”

Whumpee was silent.

“You can tell me, Whumpee. If he hurt you we are backing out of this driveway right now and I am calling the police.”

Whumpee sniffled. Caretaker audibly swallowed. “Okay,” he said with a breath that reflected in the car. “Okay.”

Caretaker nodded. Then he grabbed the gear stick and put the car into reverse. Whumpee’s cried got louder and more strangled as the house disappeared from view again, and the realisation settled heavy in their chest.

They were actually escaping.

They did it.

They escaped from Whumper, and now Caretaker, Whumper’s friend, was about to call the police to help Whumpee. Ready to throw their years of friendship away for Whumpee.

“Thank you,” Whumpee weeped. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” they blubbered. With every expression of gratitude they felt the weight of relief crush them further and further into the seat.

“It’s okay,” Caretaker said. “You’re okay. You’re safe now, Whumpee. Whumper won’t hurt you again.”

Whumpee continued to cry as they pulled out onto the main road, until the heat blasted again, and Caretaker told them to go to sleep. Whumpee obeyed, for the first time in a long time, they went to sleep with a smile on their face, warm and safe.

[daemour]

♡ Event: @pirateeznet 2nd Anniversary Event

♡ Pairing: Farmhand! Choi San x home aide! f! Reader

♡ Genre: Harvest Moon AU, slight slow burn, fluff, slight angst, T for Teen

♡ Warnings: Cursing, some sexual innuendos at the end, that's it

♡ Summary: Working as a home aide on a farm brings you some new trials...namely a certain attractive farmhand named San.

♡ Word Count: 9277 (im SORRY)

♡ Genre: Regular Life ; Prompt: Coworkers

This was supposed to be...a lot longer. LAMFIJGDFJKGHKJSHDF x) With both Hwa and Joong as other love interests...but I gotta learn how to restrain myself LOL. But I do have more planned with YN and San (and a little more spicy too hehe) so if you'd like to read that let me know!

it's a honker of a fic, so i really do hope you enjoy despite the plot holes LMAO

Thank you to @okiedokrie for beta'ing,,,the first draft lmaooo surprisee...its totally different lol

“Are you serious?” you mutter, standing knee-high in a mud puddle. When you decided to move out of the city and stay with an elderly man as a home nurse on his farm temporarily, you expected to get dirty. But not like this, and not that soon. The wagon was only able to take you so far before you had to walk the rest of the way since it was technically private property or whatever the guy said. You didn’t quite remember his reasoning, and it wouldn’t have been such a big deal if it hadn’t started pouring about five minutes after you started walking. Now you’re cold and wet, and mud is everywhere.

With a frustrated groan, you try and take another step, wincing at the feeling of the mud squelching in your shoes and soaking your socks through. You’re having regrets, but you’re sure the ailing older man is having worse issues than wet socks and shoes and you power through. After a long and gruelling walk, you finally see the cream building and connected barn and you sigh in relief.

“Oh, man, you look a mess,” a voice is heard from behind you and you shriek, dropping down to the ground and clutching at your heart. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. YN, right?”

You nod miserably. “Yeah. This is Aria farm?” You punctuate it with a sniff as you try to regain your dignity.

The man laughs, much more high-pitched than you expected. “Yup. I’m the farmhand, San.” He holds out his hand. “Need a hand up?”

With a shaky smile, you nod, grabbing his hand and letting him pull you up. His grip is strong, warm, and calloused, and you shoo away any unwanted thoughts. “Got caught in the rain?” San smiles apologetically like he was the one who brought the showers down upon you.

“Yeah, I sure did.” You return the smile with a weak one of your own. “Got dumped at the end of the road by the wagon, and not five minutes later I got poured on.”

San winces. “Oh, well, sorry that had to be your first welcome here. I’ll give that guy a talk later—he means no harm, just likes to play pranks.”

You grunt, not caring all that much about the villagers in the town, pranks or not. You have no doubt that the wagoneer meant no harm, nor that the villagers aren’t nice, but most of your days will be spent cooped up with the old farmer in his house. Plus, you decided to move away from the city to get away from people and let your introversion take over.

It takes a moment for you to realise he’s expecting you to keep up a conversation. “How is Mr Takeru doing?”

San shrugs, his eyes continuously flickering back to you. “He’s doing fairly well, all things considered. The fall left him physically incapable of a lot, but his energy hasn’t dwindled at all.” There’s a fondness in his voice. “He’s happy to hear you’ll be coming. He loves having people around and his kids barely visit. To no fault of their own, of course. They’re all on different islands, farming as well and it’s hard to get away.”

You hum. You’ve heard of their family situation, how Takeru’s kids all followed in his footsteps to become farmers, and that their children also went on to become farmers. It’s interesting, and you sometimes wonder if it’s something they all wanted. “It’ll be nice for him to have someone around,” you tell an attentive San. “It would’ve been great for him if some of his family could see him, but I’m sure he’s excited anyway.”

As you talk to San, you don’t realise how quickly the two of you walk until you are already at the house’s porch. San opens the door, stepping in, but you hesitate for just a moment. You almost turn tail if it wasn’t for the warm smile San offers.

“Don’t worry, I promise Mr Takeru is super nice. And I’ll always be happy to keep you company.” His eyes crinkle as his smile widens even further, and you can’t help but feel your face warm at how sweet he is.

“I’ll have to hold you to that, then.”

-

“Are you going to the flower festival tomorrow?” San catches you right when you go out to grab the mail.

You tilt your head as you flip through the many letters. Nothing of too much importance, just a couple of notices from the local stores. You see a letter from one of Mr Takeru’s kids and you smile at the sight of it before realising you hadn’t responded to San. “The what?”

“Flower festival,” San repeats himself, a smile growing on his face. It always seems to be there when you see the farmhand. “It’s a holiday where couples enjoy the cherry blossoms together and all.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “San, I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not quite part of the couples demographic.” The farmhand’s eyes sparkle at your joke, but his gaze does not waver.

“You could go with me,” he suggests and you choke on the spot. “I’m being serious! It’s a really nice time and it’d be a shame if you missed it.”

You sigh, glancing behind you. “We’ll see. I might be busy tomorrow.”

San still smiles triumphantly at your answer. “If you do decide to come, I’ll meet you at the church grounds at seven.” And before you can even respond, he winks and walks away, making sure to flex his back muscles. If you can’t rip your eyes away, that's your own problem.

As the clock ticks closer and closer to six, you get more and more antsy. You’re still debating whether to go. One part of you wants to go so he won’t wait in vain, but the other part of you wants to avoid all sorts of contact with people. Every time you go and buy groceries for Mr Takeru, the villagers all stop to stare at you. And you know it’s partly your fault for never trying to get to know them, but you really would rather stay a hermit.

But San, he was different. Although you’ve only been here for a few weeks, San seems to have taken an interest in you. He’s always finding an excuse to talk to you, be it lunch break or asking to pass a message to Mr Takeru. You’re not quite sure what his motive is, but you’re not complaining. He’s good-looking, kind, and makes an effort to get to know you. Perhaps you should return the kindness.

When the clock strikes half past six, you know it’s the last moment before you can make your decision. After a moment’s hesitation, you call up the stairs “Mr Takeru, I’ll be going out! Do you have everything you need?”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he responds, “Mmh, I’ve got my cane so I’m all good. Going to the festival, I see?”

“Bye, Mr Takeru” You roll your eyes good-naturedly even if he can’t see it, grabbing your bag and practically launching yourself out the door. If you run, you’ll make it just in time.

You’re sure you look crazy, running down the streets while attempting to pull your hair away from your face to no avail, but time is of the essence. You manage to smile at the villagers who wave at you, but you’re panting hard and you think your legs might fall off as you take the church steps three at a time.

As you catch your breath, you can see San out of the corner of your eye approaching with the biggest smile you’ve seen on his face. “You came!”

You open your mouth to respond but all that comes out is a hack from the lack of air in your lungs. San laughs, reaching over to pat you on the back as you take a moment to catch your breath. “My gosh, I am not cut out for running,” you gasp, finally straightening up and brushing your hair out of your face.

San’s hands slow as he shifts them lower to rest at the small of your back. “Well, I’m glad you made it anyway. Come sit with me and my friends. They’ll be happy to see you came.”

Without giving you a moment to protest, San sweeps you away towards the back corner of the courtyard. The two people sitting on a blanket you recognise—the farmer you buy your groceries from and the bartender who walks past Mr Takeru’s farm on the way to work in the afternoon, and neither of their names you ever got.

“Guys, this is YN,” San introduces you and you give a little wave as they chorus your name with ‘hi’s. “This is Wooyoung, and that’s Yunho.” He points to the bartender and the farmer respectively.

“Good to finally get your name,” Yunho smiles at you, a bright smile lighting up his face. “You’ve been shopping with me for what, two weeks now?”

You laugh awkwardly. “Yeah, just about.” You silently beg for the topic to change because San is sensitive about how you buy groceries elsewhere since a storm destroyed most of the farm’s crops. “What does one do at the flower festival?”

Wooyoung and Yunho exchange a glance between each other, their eyes soft. “Generally couples sit together and watch the flowers fall and talk about each other. At the end, you pick up a blossom and blow it after making a wish,” Yunho explains, the corner of his lips pulling up as Wooyoung leans into his body. “I’m here with Wooyoung.”

He immediately realises this is not the best thing to say as your face heats up and your brain immediately goes into overdrive. “You don’t have to be in a romantic relationship to go, of course!” San immediately rectifies, his hands shooting out to smack Yunho in the shoulder. “I always go with friends.”

A smile pulls at your lips even though you’re still a little awkward at the revelation. “Well, thank you for inviting me anyway,” you bow slightly. “It’s nice to get a little scenery difference.”

Wooyoung laughs at that. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve seen you away from the farm since you arrived, barring your visits to Marimba and Horn Ranches.” You duck your head shyly and San swoops to your rescue.

“Not that you’re any better, Wooyoung. All you do is work and go home to sleep,” San teases. “Except when Yunho makes you go outside, of course.”

Both Wooyoung and Yunho immediately blush red and you laugh at the sight. “You two are cute together though,” you compliment. “Hopefully one day I can have a relationship like yours.” You miss the soft gaze sent your way by San, but neither Wooyoung nor Yunho do and they exchange a look before smiling back at you.

“I’m sure you will one day.”

-

It’s pouring buckets out there and even San has taken the day off. There’s nothing to do on the farm other than feed the animals, and the day before San had put extra food in their buckets for that occasion exactly. Mr Takeru is fast asleep and all you’re doing is sitting in the living room and trying to focus on reading. But it’s not coming to you.

With a sigh, you put your book back down and move to stand near the window, staring at the bleary landscape. That’s when you see it. A little glimmer of light right by the bending tomato plants. You narrow your eyes, unsure if your eyes are playing tricks on you, but then it happens again. Now you’re sure something is out there, and against your better judgement, you’re going to find out what it is.

With another glance towards Mr Takeru, who doesn’t seem to be waking up anytime soon, you pull on a raincoat and open the front door. The wind almost slams it shut but you catch it just in time, slipping out of the house and closing it gently instead.

The wind is practically bullying you as you make your way slowly over to the garden. When you finally reach the plants, you squint but can’t seem to find anything, but you swear you saw something. Your eyes dart around to see if you can find it again, and another sparkle catches your eye further down the road.

You cast a glance back at the house, inner debate raging in you. But at heart, you’re forever a toddler and you go chase after the pretty lights.

The farther you go, the more you’re starting to regret your choices. But you’re too far to find your way back—although you’ve been here for almost a month now, you’re not all that well-versed in where things are around this island. Yet another point into why you should’ve just stayed at the farm.

With a groan, you take another step closer, making your way through a tunnel of trees. The rain only seems to get heavier but you can still see the faint sparkling but not much around it and you step closer.

Suddenly, the rain melts away to reveal a little grove and a giant tree standing tall and proud. The only thing that tells you were just in the rain is the fact that you’re soaking wet. You blink, step back, and the rain falls around you again. Another step forward, and the sun is shining again.

You rub your eyes, sure you must be going crazy. But the sunny area is still in front of your eyes. As much as your brain is screaming at you to turn back and make your way home, your curiosity gets the better of you. You take a few steps closer, marvelling at the old spring on either side of the stone pathway you’re on.

You’ve heard of the stories of the fae and magic surrounding this island, mostly from Mr Takeru himself, but you always chalked it up to him being old, as much as you thought it would be nice for it to be real. And here you are, standing in the middle of what can only be called magic surrounding you.

The area looks almost unoccupied, with more of the sparkles that drew you out of the house in the first place flitting around. You take a couple of steps closer when someone steps out from behind the tree. “What are you doing here?” You don’t recognise the figure standing in front of you, with perfectly coiffed hair and a frown upon his pouting lips.

You blink at him. “Uh, I was taking a walk and ended up here. What is this place?”

The blonde man blinks at you. “You don’t know? It’s the Goddess Spring, home of the tree that powers our island. Though…I guess you are new here.”

You frown, cocking your head. “Sorry if I seem rude, but I don’t think I’ve met you. Who are you?”

The stranger’s piercing blue eyes widen and he laughs, waving his hands. “Oh my, I can’t believe I forgot my manners. I’m Park Seonghwa, son of the mayor of this little island. My father speaks highly of you and how well you care for Mr Takeru.”

His hand is firm and warm although his palms are softer than San’s. “Nice to meet you, Seonghwa,” you smile at him warmly. “Your father speaks proudly of you as well.”

You can’t believe you haven’t made the connection. Seonghwa isn’t the spitting image of his father per se, but they look similar enough to each other, especially in their eyes. Mayor Gil and Seonghwa both have the same stare.

The young man smiles again, shaking his head. “My father can be passionate. Now that he’s older, he tells me he has less grievances against the world. But I am curious—what are you doing here? It’s still pouring out there.”

You shrug, a little embarrassed. “I was just following some…uh…sparkles.”

“Sparkles? Nothing else?” Seonghwa’s facial expression shifts to one of curiosity. Your eyebrows furrow at his intensity and his features soften as he chuckles. “Ah, I don’t mean to alarm you. This island has a rich history behind this little grove. Are you busy?”

You shrug, glancing behind you. “No, not really. I’m not really in the mood to walk all the way back to the farm in the rain. I’m a big history fan anyway.”

Seonghwa shrugs, gesturing to the stone bench up further on the stone pathway. “Come and sit then. The story starts with this tree.”

To be honest, you don’t understand much of what Seonghwa explains. Something about bells and trees powering the island, and how only the line of mayors and Mr Takeru’s family can see the magic. But Seonghwa seems so passionate about it, and you have no reason to disbelieve it, not when you’ve witnessed the grove itself, so you just smile and nod and do your best to comprehend.

Seonghwa is finishing up his story of how Mr Takeru single-handedly revived the island when he takes a glance at his watch and gasps. “I’ve kept you far too long,” he sighs, shaking his head. “I’m sure the rain has stopped, you should make your way back to the farm before it gets dark.”

Your brows furrow, glancing up to see the sun getting close to the west. “Oh, crap,” you gasp, “I need to start dinner. Do…do you happen to know the way back to the farm? I didn’t quite see how I got here.”

Seonghwa chuckles. “Yes, you can just take a left out here and follow the path down the mountain. It should lead you to the pond right by Aria Farm. I’ll see you around town, then.”

You nod, promising him to try and find time to visit him in town before booking your way out of the grove. He was right, the rain had slowed to a drizzle that hardly bothered you. You’re making your way down the mountain, rushing so much you can hardly enjoy the view you missed on your way up.

As soon as the blue roof of the farmhouse comes into vision, you can’t help but smile to yourself at the familiar sight. Your little adventure was fun but now it’s time to go back. As you unlock the door and swing it open, your vision is immediately blocked by a firm, warm chest and strong arms wrapping around you in a tight hug. “YN, where were you?”

San’s worried voice reaches your ears and your initial shock wears off as you tilt your head back to look at him. “I went on a walk and found some grove near the mountains,” you explain honestly, and San’s eyebrows raise into his bangs.

“A walk? YN, are you insane? I came around to make sure you both were okay and Mr Takeru told me he didn’t know where you had gone. It was a crazy storm out there too. You have to be careful, YN. I– you could’ve gotten hurt.”

San’s arms tighten around your shoulders and your face heats up as you pat his back awkwardly. “Well, I agree it was pretty stupid of me, but I’m fine and here! I won’t do it again, I promise,” you try and cheer him up while also doing your best to wriggle out of his grip. It’s embarrassing for you to be so close, you’re sure he can feel the heat radiating off of your ears. He’s too hot for you to be this close to and you need some space before you combust.

You finally manage to untangle yourself, offering a smile to ease the distance between the two. “How long were you waiting for me, anyway?”

San sighs, running a hand through his dark locks. “Maybe just about three hours? I think I was about ten minutes away from going out to look for you myself. I mean, the rain only stopped an hour ago, it’s understandable I was worried.”

He’s trying to convince himself more so than you, but you can’t really blame him. You would’ve been the same way in his shoes. You try not to think about what would happen if he had suddenly disappeared in the rain. “No, I really am sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you,” you shake your head, glancing away in guilt. “I just thought something was out there and went on a wild goose chase. Turns out it was just my eyes playing tricks on me. But in the grove I went to, I finally met the mayor’s son.”

San’s expression shifts to one of understanding. “Seonghwa? He’s nice, I’m glad you’ve met him.” He finally smiles back, softly, but shakes his head as if remembering where he is. “Er, I suppose I should let you go have dinner now. You must be hungry.”

He slips out of the door before you can even respond, the thought of inviting him for dinner only popping into your head as he’s already halfway down to the river, his form glowing gold in the sunset. You poke your head out to call for him, but your nerves get the better of you and you just watch him grow smaller and smaller in the distance.

“You should go for it.” A hoarse voice interrupts your swirling thoughts and you turn back to see Mr Takeru leaning on his cane and smiling kindly at you. “You’re young, and pretty. Anyone can see clear as day that San likes you. You know, he was quite worried when you were out.”

You swear there is steam radiating off of your face. “Ah, Mr Takeru, don’t get my hopes up,” you laugh. “There’s no way San sees me as much more than a friend. Now, let’s get dinner started, no?”

Mr Takeru just sighs, a melancholy smile on his face. “You should run right after him before it’s too late, you know. But yes, let’s have dinner YN.”

-

You stand in front of the door of the mayor’s house, debating whether to walk in or not. When you received an invitation for lunch from Seonghwa earlier this morning, he had assured you that you could walk right in without knocking, but you felt a little too awkward to do that.

“What are you doing here?” A sharp voice startles you and you jump, looking over your shoulder guiltily. A silver-haired man with sharp eyes and thick robes gazes at you with an uninterested expression on his face.

“Ah– Seonghwa invited me for lunch here,” you explain, glancing back at the door.

Before you can say anything, the strange, eccentric man brushes past you, the many bracelets and necklaces he has on jingling. “Well, then. He’s up to one of his schemes to get me to socialise again. He invited me for lunch too. Come on in.”

He swings the door open, stepping inside the house and you stare at him with wide eyes before scurrying after him. The outside of the house is filled with flowers lining the stepping stones, but the inside of the house is more mature in decor, with dark oak tables and brown wallpaper. The stranger glances at you, having noticed your eyes wandering the decor and he laughs shortly. “Quite the juxtaposition of interior and exterior, no? Mayor Gil’s late mother had designed the inside and so the mayor hasn’t had the heart to change it.”

You’re about to respond when one of the doors to your right slams open, revealing Seonghwa standing there with messy hair and a sullen look on his face. “Sorry, I’m going to have to cancel lunch. My father has fallen ill with cow fever. YN, I’m so sorry to have to turn you away but I don’t want you to catch it, or Mr Takeru for that matter.” He heaves a sigh, then turns to the stranger. “Hongjoong, could you do me a favour and bring me some medicine?”

The man—Hongjoong—nods sharply and spins on his heel, striding out the door without a moment’s hesitation. You falter just a moment, shooting Seonghwa a quick smile and ‘hope your father feels better soon’ before following Hongjoong’s steps out the door.

On your way home, you can’t help but wonder…what on earth is cow fever? You’ve never heard of such a thing. You’re too lost in thought you almost don’t see San waving at you from afar. “Ah, hey San!” you greet him with a quick wave and a smile. “Did you have lunch yet?”

A shrug is your answer and you laugh at San’s nonchalance. “Nah, I was just about to head out for some, though. How was your lunch?”

You shake your head. “It had to be cancelled. Mayor Gil came down with the cow fever, so we decided to reschedule.”

A pout forms on San’s face. “Well, I hope he gets better. Cow fever is no joke. But hey, since you didn’t have lunch, would you like to join me?”

Although it would mean you’d have to walk back to town, you can’t say ‘no’ to the smile on San’s face. “Sure, I’d be happy to,” you grin. “Inn? Do you want to get sandwiches and eat on the dock?”

The smile on San’s face widens. “It’s almost like you’re reading my mind. Let’s eat on the dock.”

Without another word, he hooks his arm around yours and pulls you in the direction of the barn. “Ah– San, the town is the other way, you know.”

San laughs again, loud and bright. “Yeah, I know. We’ll take Emma.”

It takes a moment to register. “The cow? San, are you crazy?” you gasp, but there’s still a giggle present in your tone. “First, we have a horse. Second, I don’t even know how to ride a horse, much less a cow!”

“That doesn’t matter,” San grins impossibly wider, his dimples deep. “Emma’s sweet, she’s an easier ride than Princess. Plus, I want Princess to have some more bonding time with her foal. Come on, I promise it’ll be fun.”

You groan good-naturedly but can’t keep the smile off your face as the two of you approach the well-mannered cow. “Fine,” you agree. “How do I get on?”

Instead of answering your question like a normal human being, San places his hands on your waist. For a moment, you’re lost in his firm grip, but it doesn’t last long as he lifts you and places you on Emma’s back, a shriek emitting from your mouth. “San!” you laugh, looking down to see San’s eyes crinkling as he chuckles and pats your thigh. “Warn me next time!”

“So there’ll be a next time?”

“You’re focusing on the wrong thing,” you scold lightly, turning away so he won’t see your flushing cheeks. “Come on, let’s go. I’m hungry.”

You can hear San laugh to himself one more time before hopping up behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist. Immediately, your mind is taken back to that rainy day almost a month ago when he hugged you and your cheeks burn even more. “Hold on tight,” San hums, leaning forward till his lips are right by your ear.

And once again, he doesn’t give you time to mentally prepare before Emma runs down the path towards the town. You’re terrified, hands gripping so tightly on San’s that you’re sure your nails will leave indents. But somehow, you’re enjoying yourself taking a wild ride on a cow of all things. Maybe it helps that San’s body is pressed against yours and you can feel the heat radiating off him.

You’re practically in a daze when you reach the town, San lifting you off Emma much more gently than when he put you on her. “You good?” he asks, and you snort, shaking your head fondly.

“God, I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe you made me do that. But yes, I’m good. More than good, even. That was fun.” You chuckle mostly to yourself, brushing your hair out of your eyes. “Come on, let’s eat.”

It’s your turn to grab San’s warm hand and pull him in the direction of the inn, the little bell tinkling as you step inside. Mai smiles at the two of you, waving you both over to her station. “Hello, you two. Looking for some lunch this fine morning?”

“Yep,” San leans on the counter with his elbow, ignoring the glare the head chef, Chihaya, sends him. Mai hides her smile extremely badly. “Could I get the tuna sandwich? And whatever YN’s getting.”

Your head snaps towards him. “Oh, no, no, San, don’t worry about it. I can pay for my own,” you decline as quickly as you can, but he raises an eyebrow in response.

“It’s my treat, YN. Don’t fight me on this, I’ll win. I invited you out, so it’s only right I pay.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “But–”

“No buts, okay? Don’t worry, I’m perfectly capable of paying for the both of us. Let me do this, YN. Just order, okay?” San holds up a hand, and you know he’s won.

With a sigh, you concede. “Fine. But next time, I’ll pay, and no buts.” San raises his hands in defeat. Satisfied, you turn back to Mai. “Could I get an egg sandwich?”

Mai chuckles, writing down your order in her little notebook. “It’s cute to see you two together. Poor San has been lonely for a long time.”

“We’re not dating,” you quickly correct her, face heating up in embarrassment.

“And I’m not lonely!” San interjects, pout on his face, and his cuteness in that moment makes you forget how awkward you were about Mai’s statement.

“Okay,” Mai chirps, clearly disbelieving the two of you, but before you can refute any longer, Chihaya stalks over, handing the two of you nicely wrapped sandwiches.

“Mai, stop bothering them. You two, go eat. See you later,” he shuts down the conversation, waving the two of you away.

Both San and you exchange a look before quickly leaving the inn, Mai’s sweet giggles trailing behind the two of you until the door shuts behind you. “Well then. Dock?”

You snort, nodding. “Dock.”

You skip your way through town to the dock, empty aside from the local fisherman about to head inside for his own lunch break. The wind isn’t too harsh today, something you appreciate so that the sea’s waves don’t get close to your feet. Neither you nor San feel the need to talk as you work through your lunches, the food delicious enough to keep your mouths occupied.

You finish your sandwich much earlier than San, leaning back on your arms as you sneak a peek at his side profile while he continues to eat, unaware. Something about his focused gaze on his sandwich seems to draw your gaze. As you wait, you can’t help but think back to Mai’s words, unable to keep your mind from daydreaming about Choi San.

Ever since that fateful day in the rain, the hug he had given you keeps popping up in your mind at the most inopportune times…like right now. You can already feel heat rising to your face once again and you quickly focus your eyes on the horizon to do your best to rid yourself of such thoughts.

You can’t afford to like San, not like that. Not when you have no idea what you’re going to do after this job, or even where you’ll go. This little island feels more like home than the big city did, but you don’t know where your life could fit in here. Not when it feels like everyone already has their place in the town.

“What are you thinking about?” You blink yourself back to reality, where San has finished his sandwich and is looking at you with such a fond look in his eyes. “You look lost in your head.”

You shrug, bringing your legs up to your chest and resting your chin on your knees. “I don’t know…” you murmur, a melancholy smile playing on your lips. “Just the future, I guess. What I’ll do later.”

San hums, his hand coming to rest close to your own, and you push back thoughts of grasping his worn, warm palm. “I get it. Before I started working for Mr Takeru, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do either. I bounced from ranch to ranch, even started over at Marimba Farm for a time until Mr Takeru offered me a job.”

“Is that where you met Yunho?”

At your question, San chuckles. “Yeah. He hired me at Marimba when it was first starting out, then recommended me to Mr Takeru after he was able to manage it with the help of Wooyoung. Yunho is one of my oldest friends here.”

“It must be nice to have that close of a friend,” you state, more to yourself than anything, but San hears you anyway, his brows furrowing with light concern. “Say…who’s Hongjoong? I met him briefly at Seonghwa’s before I had to go home. I’ve never seen him around before.”

San hums, tilting his head so he can look into your eyes more clearly. You fight to keep the blush of your cheeks. “Hongjoong runs the clinic, and does fortune telling on the side. He’s descended from a long line of wizards, and his paternal family has run the clinic for a very long time. Why?”

You shrug. “I heard something about him getting medicine for Mayor Gil. Thought it might be interesting to talk to him about the island’s medical practices. Since I’m a nurse and all.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Maybe I’m a little curious too. He dresses nothing like the other islanders.”

San chuckles alongside you. “His robes are the traditional wear for the wizards of this island. He does quite enjoy talking about the history behind them, so you should ask him about it some time. Any other trivia I can answer for you?”

His tone is light, teasing, and you snort and shove at his shoulder. “Shut up, can’t a girl be curious? I get it, you don’t like me.”

“You and I both know that’s the furthest thing from true.” San shakes his head, and you freeze, aware of what he’s implying.

“San–” You’re unsure of what to say. “I’m–”

“You don’t have to say anything,” San laughs, leaning in to tap his forehead against yours. “Not right now, at least. I’ll give you time to think about it. Now come on, let’s get back to the farm.”

Before you can blink, he’s already on his feet and holding out a hand to help you stand. After a moment's hesitation, you reach out as well, placing your hand in his. As he pulls you up, he leans forward to press his lips against the side of your head and you duck your head, heat rushing to your face.

The walk home is silent, but not uncomfortably so. Instead of riding Emma back, San lets her amble along the path on her own. You walk side by side, fingertips not quite brushing, stealing glances at each other and soft smiles. Maybe it's because he finally put words to what the two of you have, but you can’t help but wonder exactly why both of you are suddenly so open with how much you care for each other.

As he walks you to the front door of the farmhouse, he clears his throat, obviously wanting to say something. You turn to him expectantly, taking note of the nervousness in his eyes. “YN…” he mumbles, a far cry from the confident man he was on the dock. “No matter how you end up feeling, please don’t leave the island because of it. Everyone here likes you, even though you don’t really know them well. And Mr Takeru is terribly fond of you. Don’t let me influence your life too much, okay?”

You sigh, body visibly relaxing. “Of course not, San. I’ve grown to love it here. I don’t think even you can keep me away.”

San chuckles at your feeble attempt at a joke, out of pity, you think. “Okay, okay. Have a good day, YN.”

You close the door behind you, smiling to yourself subconsciously. “Miss YN, is that you?” Mr Takeru calls out, and you shake your head, willing your brain to clear up before quickly making your way to your employer.

“I’m here, Mr Takeru!”

-

You awkwardly stand at the bar, waiting for Wooyoung to finish up with a customer. The bar is the last place you would usually be, but you’re at a loss. San’s words have been replaying in your head since that fateful day on the dock, and you haven't spoken to him since. Not that he’s bothered by it. True to his word, San had been giving you space, only exchanging soft, sweet, ‘good morning’s and gentle smiles.

As each day passed, you knew what your answer would be, but then a letter arrived today from your agency back home. A reminder your contract was almost up. You knew you had to make a decision, fast.

“All right, what’s going on in your head, missy?” Wooyoung’s voice breaks you out of your swirling thoughts. “You look like you’re about to be sick, and I don’t want to have to take you to the doctor’s.”

You open your mouth, close it again, and then reopen. “Wooyoung, do you know if the clinic has any job openings?”

Wooyoung furrows his brow, frowning. “Well, you’ve picked the worst person to ask this question to. I’ve never gone to the clinic before, and Hongjoong never comes in here. But they might. Hongjoong’s grandfather recently retired, so as Mr Van takes his role, there might be a job opening soon. I think Mao was thinking about volunteering there, though. You’d have to talk to Hongjoong about it. Why?”

You hesitate, eyes moving from side to side. No one is close enough to hear you over the music. “Did San talk to you at all in the past week?”

Understanding dawns in Wooyoung’s eyes. “Ah. He told us what happened, but let me hear what you think of it. All our regulars are here already so I won't have to make any more drinks for a while.”

A sigh makes its way out of your throat. “My contract with Mr Takeru is ending soon. The easy answer is to renew, but what about after that? I don’t know where I could work, other than the hospital, and if Mao wants to work there, I don’t want to take that opportunity away from him.”

Wooyoung laughs. “I said he would volunteer, not work. He’s the fisherman’s son, the sea is in his blood. But even if you don’t work at the clinic, San would probably be happy to support you until you find something.”

You shake your head tiredly. “But I don’t want him to. He already works so hard, and I don’t want to make him feel obligated to help me, not when I’m capable of supporting myself and it’s just me overthinking.”

There’s a pause, and then Wooyoung dissolves into laughter. “YN, he would be helping you because he wants to. Hell, any of us would be willing to help you. Yunho could use someone to help him on his own farm, I’m sure Seonghwa would like to have a secretary, hell, I could use you as a server. You’re worrying too much about it. Things will work out if you want them to.”

You wince. “I know, I know. I just worry, you know.”

“Well, don’t,” Wooyoung teases. “Just talk to San. He’ll understand.”

“As always, your advice is impeccable,” you smile. “Thanks, Wooyoung, really.”

“It’s what I do,” Wooyoung winks, sliding a glass over. “Have a drink before you go, okay? I’m not getting paid to gossip, you know.”

You squint at him. “Don’t you own this bar?” All Wooyoung does is smile knowingly and nod towards the cup of…something. You take a tentative sip, and then another, and then it hits. The sweet but tangy flavour with a hint of bitterness from the alcohol. “Oh, this is good! What is it?”

“Raspberry cocktail,” he answers, way too proud of his creation. “I perfected the recipe today, as well as a few others. You should try those ones too.”

You laugh, downing the rest of your drink. “Sure, sure, go ahead. I’m almost never here anyway.”

Wooyoung practically vibrates in excitement, moving around the kitchen in a dash to prepare your next drink. You’re on your third drink and too busy laughing at Wooyoung’s antics to notice the presence behind you. When Wooyoung slides you your next drink, you ask, “Which one is this?”

“This one is your last drink,” a firm voice speaks up and you snap your head around, startled, to come face to face with San. “You still have work tomorrow, YN, you can't get too drunk.”

“Hey, Sanah,” you beam up at him, unbothered by his close proximity. You blame it on the alcohol. His eyes soften as he looks down at you, a smile tugging at his lips. “I was just talking about you!”

“Oh, were you?” San leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. “All good, I hope. Come on, finish your drink and let’s get you home.”

Without much further prompting, you down the rest of your drink and wave at Wooyoung, who is watching the two of you with an amused expression plastered on his face. “Bye, now,” he sing-songs, “get home safe.”

San rolls his eyes good naturedly, nodding at Wooyoung and sliding some money over to pay for your few drinks. “Have a good night, Youngah.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, helping you stand and pulling you out of the inn. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

You hum, turning your head to press your face into his shoulder. “I dunno,” you mumble into him, breathing in the smell of his soap. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do if I end up out of a job. You’re too perfect, I can’t drag you down.” You don’t mean to say all this, but the alcohol is still coursing through your system and the courage still sits in your stomach.

San intakes a sharp breath. “What do you mean by that?”

You shrug. “You have a job, a life here. I’m here temporarily. When my contract ends next month, what am I supposed to do? I don’t want to go back to the city and leave you here, but I don’t have any idea what I’m supposed to do here.”

San sighs, letting his head sit atop yours, his cheek pressed against your hair. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. I wouldn’t mind if you went back to the city if you visited. I wouldn’t mind if you stayed with me until you get back on your feet if you decide to end your contract. Hell, I’m sure Mr Takeru would be happy to employ you on his own dime, or someone else in town would take you on. But I’m glad you came to me, okay? I want to help you.”

You can feel your eyes stinging, and you curse yourself for drinking so much that it makes you too emotional for your liking. “Okay,” you concede with a soft voice. “Thank you, San.”

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Of course, YN,” he smiles, and although you can’t see it, you hear it in his voice. “Now let’s talk later, okay? You need to go to bed.”

“Later sounds good,” you sigh, letting your body weight lean even more against San’s broad shoulders. “See you later.”

“Not right now,” San chuckles. “We’re almost home, come on. As much as it’s safe on the island, it’s chilly tonight, and I think you’d probably prefer sleeping in a bed.”

“Hmm, bed,” you repeat, yawning. “I like the idea.”

“I’m sure you do.”

The rest of the night is mostly calm, save for San convincing you to go to the bathroom to change, and not undressing in front of him. As he helps you brush your hair as you sit on your bed, you can’t help but to reach up and put your hands on his waist.

“You know, I really like you,” you mumble. The alcohol has almost faded, but the tiredness has hit and you’re just as loopy as if you were still drunk. “I hope you know that.”

San chuckles, his hands slowing to a stop in your hair. “I do, YN. I do.” He leans down, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. “Get some rest, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.”

He turns to leave, but not until you grab his wrist. “Wait! What about here?” you pout, pointing to your lips, and San arches an eyebrow, a smile toying at the corners of his lips and a laugh threatening to escape.

“Maybe tomorrow, if you ask me, okay? Good night, YN.” And with that, he leaves you to sleep, a smile plastered onto your face as you dream of his touch.

When you reawaken, you feel fully rested, yawning as you slip out of bed quickly and easily. A quick glance at your clock tells you it’s almost noon and you curse yourself for drinking so heavily. You’re never letting Wooyoung talk you into such a thing again.

As you make your way out of your room, you find Mr Takeru sitting on the couch. “Miss YN, come sit with me, okay? I want to talk to you.”

You pause, heart freezing. “Ah– sure, Mr Takeru. Nothing bad, I hope.”

The older man chuckles, waving his hand. “Of course not. This is something both Wooyoung and San have come to me about.”

You blink. “Ah.” You’re going to kill Wooyoung, and think about killing San (You’re too attached to him to follow though).

Mr Takeru laughs again. “I said it wasn’t bad, child, don’t look like you’re about to faint, please. San had expressed his affection for you to me, and Wooyoung has talked about how, in his words, ‘both of them are dumb as rocks and won’t date yet’. I’m quite aware that your contract with me is ending soon.” He pauses to take in a breath. “I would like to offer you a job with me off contract. That means you won’t be with your agency anymore.”

You blink at him. “I…I’m sorry, it’s a lovely offer, and I’m quite inclined to take it, but can I ask why? I mean, it would be cheaper for you to hire from the agency, and I’m sure I could figure something else out.”

“Miss YN, I’m sure you’re well aware I am not in much need of money. San runs the farm beautifully, and even though he is paid generously, the earnings far exceed what I need. And, as I have talked to Mayor Gil, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong, the clinic is happy to contract you so that in the case that I no longer require your services, you may work with them.”

You blink at him, your lower lip quivering. It takes you a moment to compose yourself, and Mr Takeru waits patiently. “The offer is so generous, and I would be a fool to decline it. I really do appreciate it, Mr Takeru.”

Your boss smiles. “Don’t worry about it, okay? Think of it as a favour to San as well. He’s worked for me for so long, he’s like one of my own grandchildren.” He pauses, letting out a yawn. “Now, go find him and tell him the good news, okay? I’d like to take a long nap.”

With a moment to compose yourself, you stand from the couch. “Thank you again, Mr Takeru,” you repeat sincerely. “I’ll prep lunch and put it in the fridge for when you wake up, okay?”

He waves you away, already getting ready to lay down on the couch. “Don’t worry about it. Mayor Gil is coming around to have lunch with me, and he’ll bring me something from the inn.” With another yawn, you know your conversation is over, and you spin on your heel and race out of the house, only one thing on your mind.

“San, are you in here?” you call out as you reach the ajar barn doors. “I need to talk to you.”

“I’ll be right down, just filling up the dispenser.” You can hear San’s voice from the loft and you look up, squinting through the sunrays filtering through the holes in the roof. The carpenters have been working on fixing that before the next rain.

Your gaze is drawn away by San climbing down the ladder, an extra bale of hay perched on his shoulders. As he turns around and you catch a glimpse of his face, your breath catches in your throat.

There wasn't ever a time where you thought sweat and grime on a person could be attractive…at least until right at this very moment. Sweat is glistening on his face, dripping off his cheekbones and chin, and all you can think about is swiping your tongue over his lips to taste it. The sight of it only serves to remind you of your drunken request to San, and his one condition that you ask him about it the next day.

“YN? Is there something you wanted to ask me?”

You blink up at him, eyes wide. “Can I get my kiss now?”

That was not what was supposed to come out of your mouth, but it’s too late to rectify it, so you’re left looking up at a dumbfounded San. The silence goes on for just a tad too long and you’re too embarrassed to face him now, so you turn on your heel and start to exit the barn, hopefully to drown your sorrows and yourself in the hot spring.

Before you can even step foot onto the threshold, however, San grabs your arm and gently tugs you into his warm chest. “Now wait just a moment,” he hums, chest vibrating against your back. His smell fills your mind and you tilt your gaze up to see him looking right back at you with such warmth in his eyes. “I didn’t give you your kiss yet.”

“Oh–” is all you manage to squeak out before San’s lips are on yours and you immediately melt into the kiss. His arm pulls you even closer against his body, his lips soft and inviting. “San–”

He doesn’t give you a moment to speak, his mouth capturing every sound escaping past your lips. You can feel every breath against your lips, his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips. Slowly, you part your lips for him and he wastes no time to map out your mouth, taking the air out of your lungs at how desperately he kisses.

As you fall deeper into his embrace, your arms come to loop around his waist, resting by his hips as your hands grip onto his shirt. His own hands roam up and down your sides, gripping at your waist and keeping you pulled against him. One of them finds its way to your face, cupping it with a gentleness that rivals the roughness of his mouth.

You could stay here like this for hours, but your lungs disagree, and after they scream at you for some air, you finally pull away, gasping softly as you lean your forehead against San’s. “San,” you call his name again, although this time your words aren’t interrupted by his lips but your lack of air. You take in one more breath, San waiting patiently as he looks at you like you put the stars in the sky yourself. “San, I like you. And I’m sure I’m just stating the obvious, but again, I do. I want to stay here with you, and just this morning Mr Takeru has offered me a personal contract with him. That’s what I wanted to tell you.”

San laughs, his hand on your waist moving up to stroke your cheek. “I know, YN. I asked Mr Takeru to make you the offer. Or, to be more precise, I implied that he should make you the offer, and I did that because Wooyoung implied to me to do that.” He tilts his head to press a short and sweet kiss to your lips again, chuckling to himself at how you follow his lips when he pulls back.

“Of course he did,” you roll your eyes good-naturedly, nodding as you lean up on your tiptoes to try and steal another kiss. “Nothing will ever be kept secret with his big mouth. Can we go back to kissing now? It’s easier.”

You can practically see the eagerness shine to San’s eyes. Instead of an answer, he tilts his head down to meet your waiting lips. This time, though, your makeout session is sadly cut short.

“So you two are finally together?”

You’re not too embarrassed to admit you shrieked, jumping out of your skin and burying your face in San’s chest. You can hear both San and Seonghwa chuckle, San’s arm tightening around your body. “Thanks to you, Seonghwa,” San hums. “We both really appreciate your role in this.”

“It’s no problem whatsoever. And as surly as Hongjoong can be, he’s happy to have someone else on board. But I’ll let you two get back to…talking. I was just passing through to have lunch with the jeweller. Have a good day, you two.” With a wave that you see out of the corner of your eye, Seonghwa leaves.

“I’m never going back to the town hall again,” you mumble against San’s shirt. “I can’t face Seonghwa again.”

San rubs your back with a comforting hand, although you can feel his chest rumble with quiet laughter. “I’m sure he understands, YN. Plus, look on the bright side. At least he didn’t walk in on a more intimate moment.”

Your head snaps up, heat blooming in your cheeks as you slap his shoulder. “San! We’re in the barn!”

A smirk is the only warning you get before San wraps both his arms around you and hoists you into the air, ignoring your squeal. “My house is just across the creek, you know. We don’t have to be in the barn.” You swear he can see how flustered you are just by your expression, and it only seems to egg him on. His one hand moves down to hold you up by your thighs, and you don’t think your face could get any hotter. “Shall we celebrate?”

“San–” you start to decline, but then you pause, casting a glance over your shoulder. Seeonghwa is long gone, and you’re sure Mr Takeru and the Mayor will be talking for a good few hours. “...All right. But put me down!”

Laughing, San happily sets you on your feet, leaning in to press his lips against yours again. “I really am glad you decided to stay, YN. Thank you for choosing me.”

“And if given the chance, I would choose you over and over San.” You smile up at him, reaching up to cup his face and pull him in for yet another kiss. Although the future seems uncertain, you’ll be happy to navigate it with him by your side.

[glossykissies]

the readers and… who?

— the series ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

episode four: puppy reader

introducing… my newest moodboard series! i will be creating moodboards based on my different readers with some of the characters i think they pair best with! along with the moodboard will be a brief description of their dynamic. i will mostly featuring characters that i write the most on this blog, but who knows, maybe i’ll throw in someone niche! part one can be found here. enjoy scrolling through ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ ౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

billy butcher (the boys) ♡

the grumpy man ends up having an unlikely affection for the supe!hybrid!pup that himself and the boys reluctantly take in. when she’s not leaving butcher unsettling drawings on his pillow or humping his boot, he finds himself drawn to her optimism despite being deeply traumatised by the lab she came from — a strength that butcher can’t even muster.

soldier boy (the boys) ♡

heading over to the no-supe-universe — grumpy, neighbour!ben didn’t expect to care so much for the sweet, needy girl next door with an obvious crush on him. before he knows her name (maybe she told him once but he didn’t care to remember), he’s always thinking of her as a lost puppy, always showing up at his door in little skirts and socks that are blackened at the sole from walking around outside bare-foot, wielding baked goods, berries from her garden or coming shyly with a request for him to fix something in her house.

scott miller (twisters) ♡

joining scotty on his travels around for research — puppy!reader is never far from scott’s side. she enjoys life on the road, driving motel to motel and spending time with her man. she has the terrible habit of wandering off, worrying scott sick at gas stations and roadside bathrooms but it’s nothing a scolding and a spanking in the back of the car won’t fix. she behaves for the most part, subdued by trinkets and scott’s ‘fun’ facts about twisters to keep her going, but her favourite part of the day is when his strong arms wrap around her thighs and she aggressively humps his face.

clark kent (smallville) ♡

from the day clark met her, he couldn’t help but feel it was his duty to protect pup. that was his nickname for her — pup, he used it more than her real name. it slipped out his mouth once, because of the way she’d energetically fly around and then crash at his feet — and he immediately went to retract it because he thought it might be rude, but she seemed to love the nickname, begging him to say it again. she was totally helpless, greeting dangerous men with a big beautiful smile, wandering around at night going ‘exploring’ in next to no clothes. her innocence betrays her, never noticing when the guys around her stare at her tits falling out of her shirt, to the point where exasperated, her pal, good-guy clark kent has to subtly pull her top up for her with a discreet shake of the head, or on even more dire situations, turn her around and carefully pluck her skirt lower so it wasn’t riding up her ass anymore. “what would you do without me, huh?” he’d give her a tight smile, but she can’t reply — still stuck on the feeling of his hands on her.

[trans-elrond]

why you, yes you, should read the Queen's Thief books

for #WinASignedSetofTheQueensThief2024, I am here to gently yet persuasively yell at you about why you should read the Queen's Thief books, in a helpfully numbered list (no spoilers, only vibes):

I like unreliable narrators. You like unreliable narrators. You know who the most unreliable narrator is? This scrunkly little guy, blorbo of all time, Eugenides (Gen). You're gonna fall in love with him. You're gonna want to throttle him. It's okay, it happens to us all. (official character art by Emily B. Martin isn't it gorgeous!!!)

Tumblrinas far and wide are known for our love of ancient Greek and Greek-inspired fantasylands. What if I told you that we could have it all (coastal Greek-esque kingdoms, political intrigue, The Gods Are Getting Involved) PLUS there are, occasionally, guns. Yes you heard that right. It's great. Come for the fantasy, stay for the Fantasy Guns(tm).

I could wax poetic about the female lead, Attolia Irene, for approximately 25 years without drawing breath, but suffice it to say she is THEE fantasy queen of all time. Her arc is incredible. I want to be her. I'm scared of her. I adore her. PLEASE read these books so you can also fall head over heels for her.

DYNAMICS!!!!!!!! we have ALL OF THEM. kings and queens and vassals and loyal advisors and scheming diplomats and brave soldiers and anxious scribes and we toss them into a blender and see what happens and who lands where. it is delicious.

Did I mention The Gods Are Getting Involved? the way these books weave the political reality & the godly, mythical, numinous aspects takes my breath away. Truly the blueprint.

Twists and turns that fly by like a rollercoaster. Truly, no one is doing the Plot Twist like MWT. You start out on these books and you think you know where they're going. yOU DO NOT. And you will be delighted every time.

Incredible prose, with occasional excerpts of poetry and song and myth that provide SUCH fertile ground for lore and worldbuilding and delicious, delicious Character Parallels. If you've ever been into classical reception even a smidge, you will rejoice at the plentiful references.

Bro's Road Trip of All Time (book 5) will knock your socks off. If you ever read Eagle of the Ninth, it's kind of like that, but got me even more good. deeply moving, I am never getting over them, (wails to the sky) I just want to be able to read this book for the first time again so YOU SHOULD TAKE THE CHANCE WHILE YOU HAVE IT

anyway, what are you waiting for, go read queen's thief, you will surely not regret it, what are you talking about these books ripped my heart out ha ha ha ha but i mean in a good & fun way okay enjoy!!!!!!!!

[jasmines-library]

Runaway

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WHUMPTOBER DAY SEVENTEEN :Prompt: nowhere else to go

Summary: after a fight with your mother, badly injured you and your brother Sirius are forced to flee your home and go to the only place you can think of. The Potters. (im sorry)

Warnings: abuse, torture? injuries - this one is quite heavy so please be advised.

Word count: 1.5k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER 2024

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The rain had soaked through nearly the entirety of Sirius’s clothes. It was late at night and the rain was torrential. It slammed on the ground creating pools on the ground that soaked your socks as well as making your clothes stick to you. Sirius sheltered you with his jacket, holding it over you and he wrapped an arm around your waist. He was supporting the majority of your weight. You could hardly keep one foot in front of the other as your weak body stumbled along the road.

 Sirius was worried about you. That was for certain. He was hurting too, but you had taken the brunt of it. He had tried to get you out of there quickly, but things had escalated quickly and he was powerless to do anything. 

You mother was angry. There was nothing new there. But this time she went too far. You and your older brother were accustomed to the harsh spells from your mothers wand. Often accompanied by her harsh words. The pair of you had countless scars scaling your bodies from the years of her abuse. It was sad, but the two of you hadn’t know anything else. You and Sirius were closer than anything. You thought it likely had something to do with how your parents treated you. The pair of you found solace in each other. A quiet place amongst the anger and hatred. 

Your mother had been unforgivable. The curses flying from her wand left you cowering on the floor, weak, broken and bleeding. Sirius had heard your screams echoing throughout the house. Anguished, they ricocheted off of the wall. At first he tried to ignore them. Getting involved would have made it worse for both you and him. So he sat there with his hands over his ears, curled up against his door with his head tucked between his knees. But when your screams continued he couldn’t bear it any longer and soon he was bursting through the door. 

The interruption had landed him with a hit of the lacero curse to the back of his calf which left him with an unpleasant limp. But what he was more focused on was you. Your body was sprawled out awkwardly on the floor, your muscles twitching and spasming. There was a trail of blood dripping from your nose and staining your clothes. It was sickening. 

The whole house was then filled with screaming and yelling. The whole thing passed in a blur, barely audible though the ringing in your ears. But soon enough, Sirius was hoisting you to your feet. And then there was the familiar feeling of apparition as Sirius whisked you away from the property. 

And so there you were, stumbling down the road towards the only place Sirius could think of to bring you: James Potter had been your best friend for years. It was no secret that he had always been there for the two of you. He knew about your home situation, as did his parents, and they had offered you an open door. A safe space. And though he swore he wouldn’t, Sirius was now taking them up on that offer. 

After a short struggle down the road to their house, Sirius rapped on the door. It was late at night and the urgent knock travelled loudly throughout the house. 

He held you close as the pair of you waited. Time seemed to drag on impossibly, but Sirius whispered reassuring words to you. “You're gonna be okay….just hold on” 

He knocked again. This time more desperate as you leaned heavily against him. A second later the light flicked on before the door cracked open, and the kind face of Euphemia Potter peered around the door. Her wand was clutched tightly in her hand and you could see Fleamont lingering in the hallway behind her. She was on the defence; who wouldn’t be during the middle of a war, but as soon as she recognised the haunted eyes of Sirius black, her face contorted with worry. The door was then flung open and the two of you were ushered inside. 

Sirius was reluctant to let you go when Effie tried to take you from his arms. Some part of him feared that if he let you go you were going to disappear. Nevertheless, he let you go and she helped move you to the couch, soothing you as you let out a noise of discomfort. 

“Shh….” She soothed, her mothering side protective over you. “We’ve got you….youre alright.” She fussed over you. “Monty, fetch the medkit.” 

Sirius watched as they rushed around you, ignoring his own pain to make sure you were tended to. “I- I’m sorry- I….i don’t know where else to go.” 

“It’s alright dear….everything is okay.” 

Sirius wasn’t sure how to react. He wasn’t used to this sort of kindness. 

Fleamont returned not long later with the medkit. There had been a lot of loud clanging as he tried to find it. As soon as it was open, Effie was trying to get you to drink down a healing potion, but your body was in shock and half of it dribbled down your chin before you could get yourself to swallow. 

There was a patter of bare feet on the hardwood floors. And then James appeared at the door of the stairs. He had been woken by the raucous and had decided to investigate. What he wasn’t prepared to see was his best friends broken and bleeding in his home. 

“What’s going on?!” James asked, alarmed. 

“James—“ Sirius started as his best friend approached him. 

“What happened?” He asked, trying to get to you before being stopped by his father. 

“James, Dear. Why don’t you go back to bed? Everything will be fine here.” 

“No- what- what happened.” James asked. Though he was sure he already knew. He just didn’t want to say it outloud because that meant accepting the truth. After accepting that he couldn’t go to you he turned to Sirius, trying to check for injuries. “….what happened…?” James asked sadly. And Sirius just gave him this look. One where his eyes were sad and yet so full of fear at the same time. And it said it all. “…oh…” 

The moment was broken by your cry of pain, and all eyes snapped to you. Effie was currently mending your wounds with a healing spell. She was trying her hardest not to hurt you more, but it was near impossible with the extent of your injuries. It was clear that you were scared from the wide eyed look you bore, and you were disorientated from the whirlwind of events. Your vision was doubled and you could hardly hear anything. But she had done her best. You had stopped bleeding and the blood had been cleaned from your body. The only thing that was left was the twitching caused by the clear use of the cruciatus curse. The thought of it alone made Effie feel sick. 

Soon, once the majority of your wounds had been tended to, and you had succumbed to the drowsiness of the healing potions, the family had helped situate you in James’ bed. He had decided to give up his own in order to keep an eye on you; much to his parents’ initial protests. In the end they had decided it was best for everyone. Sirius, who eventually had his wound healed, took camp on an air-bed on the floor of James’ bedroom with his best friend, insisting on staying near your side just in case anything happened. And you slept. Far from peacefully, but your chest rose and fell steadily as your body worked to heal itself. 

James, who was supposed to be sleeping beside his friend but couldn’t, had taken position next to you. His hands were folded awkwardly beside him as he was too afraid to touch you in fear that he would cause you more pain. But when you awoke with a start, he placed a gentle hand on your arm; a soothing touch to help ground you. 

“Hey….hey. You’re okay.” He said softly. 

Your panicked gaze settled on him. Quiet for a moment as your mind raced to fill in the timeline. You could see Sirius sleeping on the floor nearby and your worried was settled.

“Don’t worry. He’s alright.” James spoke “it’s you were worried about, sweetheart.” 

“…..I…” you opened your mouth to speak but your throat was hoarse and dry making it hard to, but James stopped you.

“Don’t talk. It’s alright.” He smoothed a hair away from your face. “You’re safe here now, okay? My mother tended to your wounds. She said you should be okay in a day or two.” He took a breath. “Merlin….im so sorry…..I’m so so sorry…..” 

you gave him a sad look. It wasn’t his fault at all. 

“But don’t worry about it, okay? We’re going to sort this out. But you and Siri are always welcome here. We’re your family and it is never too much for us to keep our doors open for you and Sirius. Never.”

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<- DAY SIXTEEN ⛧ DAY EIGHTEEN->

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TAGS:

@hearts4robs @kingshitonly @alicedawitchbish @hell-o-kittys @azure-drag0ness @harleycao @thewhispersofthewaves @batfamsstuff @xxrougefangxx @rosecentury @noisymutantherelol @killxz @rhiodes @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @canthavetoomuchchaos

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[spencerreidswhore187]

False Confidence

Don't take yourself so seriously / Look at you all dressed up for someone you never see.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer and Y/N hate each other, they just don't realise they have been anonymously messaging for months.

Word Count: 2.8k

T/W: Mentions of murder and death

A/N: For @sackofpissandshit . I came up for the premise of this as a plate of prawns fell onto my head at work. Enjoy! ◡̈

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SherlockHolmes1887: You were right. 

You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face; you replied immediately, the half-drunk coffee in your hand forgotten. 

NapoleonOfCrime: Feel free to say that again.

He did.  

Briefly, you looked up from your phone to cross the road. You were on the way to work having just received a message from Hotch. It sounded urgent. 

NapoleonOfCrime: So what made you realise that, as per usual, I was right? 

You had spent the better part of the night trying to convince him that Sherlock Holmes was in love with Jim Moriarty. You had met him online several months ago, on an Arthur Conan Doyle forum and have been messaging ever since. 

He, except for the one and only Penelope Garcia, was your best friend. You told him everything. Except for who you are. 

Early on in talking you both had agreed not to exchange names, tell each other where you lived or what you did for a career. You knew what SherlockHolmes1887 favourite film was (Star Trek), that he liked wearing mismatched socks and his mum used to call him ‘Crash’ because he would crash into things when he was younger. You knew that, like you, he had four qualifications, liked Sherlock Holmes and had an unhealthy obsession with coffee. You just didn’t know his name. 

Your phone vibrated. 

SherlockHolmes1887: “The greatest schemer of all time, the organiser of every devilry, the controlling brain of the underworld, a brain which might have made or marred the destiny of nations—that's the man! But so aloof is he from general suspicion, so immune from criticism, so admirable in his management and self-effacement, that for those very words that you have uttered he could hale you to a court and emerge with your year's pension as a solatium for his wounded character. [...] Foulmouthed doctor and slandered professor—such would be your respective roles! That's genius, Watson.”

Your phone buzzed again. You silenced it as you walked into the BAU elevator. 

SherlockHolmes1887: I reread ‘The Valley of Fear’ last night. 

You were about to reply when a voice cried out. 

“Hold the door!” 

Instinctively, you stretched your arm out between the closing elevator doors. 

The person entered beside you. 

If you had known who had asked, you would have let the doors shut. 

Dr Spencer Reid leant on his cane, drumming his fingers against its metal top as the elevator moved upwards. He had recently been shot in the leg on a case. You would never tell him but when that gun fired, you thought you were going to be sick. Your heart ached. It made you hate him even more.

“Reid,” you said, staring forward. You refused to look at him.

“L/N,” He replied. 

That was the most words you’d exchanged in days. 

When the doors finally opened again, you both headed towards the round table, where the rest of the team was waiting. 

You and Spencer were the last to arrive. 

It’s not like him to be late, you thought.  

You took a seat between Emily Prentiss and Derek Morgan - you were sat as far away from Spencer as possible.

“Now that you are all here,” Hotch began, pulling you from your thoughts, “let’s begin.” 

Penelope connected her computer to the screen; there was a picture of a body. The flesh was rotten, decayed from what was evidently years hidden away. Your eyes are wide as you saw it: a long cut, rough and jagged, stretched from neck to naval. You recognised this signature. 

“The Brooklyn Butcher,” you said, interrupting the silence. 

Hotch nodded. 

It was a case that had occurred six years ago and ended up going cold. 

Spencer recalled, “Eleven women, all under the age of twenty-five, all with red hair, went missing and then their bodies always turned up three days later with a long knife wound across their torso.” 

“The only body,” you continued, “that was never discovered was Sharon Lewis’. The first to go missing. The wife of Mitch Lewis, the prime suspect during the investigation.” 

“Why wasn’t he arrested?” Derek asked. 

Spencer answered before you could, tucking a strand of his brown hair behind his ear. Why did you want to run your hands through his hair? 

“There was no evidence. The police’s only theory was his wife was his first kill and he killed all the other victims who resembled her in an attempt to relive the thrill of the kill.”

“He had an alibi for Sharon Lewis’ disappearance,” you added. 

“Correct - they also never found her body. They couldn’t prove their theory without her body.” 

“Well,” Hotch said, “they have now.” 

“Sharon Lewis, aged twenty-four, was the first victim in the Brooklyn Butcher killings. Cause of death, blunt force trauma to the head.” 

JJ leant back in her chair and pressed her pen to her lips, “So the cut was postmortem?”

“According to the coroners.” 

“But that was not the case for the rest of the victims?”

“No,” Hotch replied. 

“Our UNSUB gained confidence in his kills.” 

Lewis was likely his first-ever kill. You wanted to message Sherlock and ask him what he thought. He was intelligent beyond belief, you were sure he would add valuable insight to this case but you couldn’t tell him. Then he would know you worked for the Behavioural Analysis Unit. You couldn’t let him know that. He couldn’t know who you were. What would he think then? When he knew you were more comfortable around dead bodies than real people.

“How was the body discovered?” Spencer asked. 

Hotch had that dark look in his eyes, the one he got when an UNSUB scared him. You hadn’t seen that look in his eyes since Haley died. 

“The body was left on an empty police vehicle parked outside a station in Brooklyn. There was a note attached to it.”

Penelope clicked a button on her laptop and the slide changed to a screwed-up piece of paper nailed to the shoulder of the body. 

Hotch read it aloud, “You have three days before I kill another. Happy hunting, the Butcher.”

He stood up from his seat, “Selene Harker was reported missing twelve hours ago. We leave for New York now - wheels up in twenty. Penelope, you’re coming with us.” 

She smiled nervously, you gave her a discreet thumbs up. 

Everyone stood up from the round table and headed towards the door, you had grabbed the handle when Hotch stopped you.

“L/N, you need to stay here.”

You froze, confused. 

He continued, “Reid has not been cleared to fly by his doctors yet and I need you to go through the old Mitch Lewis interrogation clips, find out whether he told any lies. Stay in touch.” 

With that he left the room, leaving you there with Spencer before you had a second to protest. 

You weren’t really sure how you did it, it’s an ability you’ve had since you were a kid. It’s how you were flagged by the FBI. You could tell when people lied. Everyone has a tell and, like the lie-detecter you are, you knew how to spot it. 

When you and Reid had first met, three years ago, he had told you all the statistics about lies: “Did you know,” he had said, “10% of all lies can be defined as exaggerations, though 60% of all lies are considered to be deceptive.” 

You remembered how you had nodded, anxious as it was your first day. 

“Of all liars, 70% of them claim to be willing to do it again. Every week, Americans tell 11 lies. In a study of 11,366 lies told by 632 people over 91 days, 75% of them lied between 0 or 2 times per day.”

“You know a lot,” You had laughed. 

Reid seemed kind. You liked kind people; you dealt with a lot of horrible people growing up. 

“I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187.” 

That was the first time you and Spencer had ever spoken and it was the last time you ever spoke like friends. 

You spun on your heels to face Spencer. 

“You leave me alone and I’ll leave you be. Understood?” 

“Understood,” Spencer said, rolling his eyes. 

“God, you are so infuriating.”

“I hate you,” he retorted. 

You noticed the way his jaw tensed. 

You grinned, “Lie.” 

Spencer groaned and left the room. Through the window, you saw him take a seat at his desk. 

Laughing, you walked into Penelope’s office and pulled up the police footage. 

You were three hours into the Mitch Lewis footage and he had told three lies. 

The first was that he did not know what happened to the other victims. Although, this could mean he had read about the case online. 

The second was more interesting. Lewis said he was at the pub when his wife disappeared. Even though there was security camera footage to confirm this, he was lying, 

The third made your head spin. He said he didn’t kill her. True. He said he didn’t know where she was. Lie. 

You paused the interrogation and contacted Hotch to tell him what you had found. He replied telling you to take a break as they searched for Mitch Lewis. 

In an attempt to distract yourself, you reached for your phone and messaged Sherlock. 

NapoleonOfCrime: Hi.

He replied almost immediately. 

SherlockHolmes1887: Hey.

NapoleonOfCrime: So you read ‘The Valley of Fear’ in one night just to try and prove me wrong? 

SherlockHolmes1887: If that’s how you want to interpret it :) 

NapoleonOfCrime: And?

SherlockHolmes1887: And…they are very much in love. It’s almost blindingly obvious. 

NapoleonOfCrime: “It has been an intellectual treat for me to see the manner in which you have grappled with this case.” The definition of enemies to lovers.

SherlockHolmes1887: Enemies to lovers? 

You don’t think you ever smiled as much as when you did with him. 

NapoleonOfCrime: It’s better you don’t ask, or else I’ll be sending you links to Moriaty x Sherlock fan fiction.

SherlockHolmes1887: What are you doing right now?

Your fingers danced along the tiny keyboard on the phone screen.

NapoleonOfCrime: Work. You? 

SherlockHolmes1887: Work. 

NapoleonOfCrime: How is it? 

It made you nervous that he didn’t reply instantly. 

NapoleonOfCrime: Don’t worry, this isn’t me trying to figure out what you do or who you are. I like the mystery. 

SherlockHolmes1887: Horrible. But it’s not really work that’s the problem. There’s a girl. 

It hurt a little to know there was a girl, of course it did, but you didn’t mind. What you cared about was how he seemed distressed. 

NapoleonOfCrime: If you want to share, I’m a good listener. 

He typed for what seemed like an eternity. 

SherlockHolmes1887: We, her and I, have worked together for years. She’s smart and funny and beautiful. So beautiful. But she hates me. I messed up when we first met, I was so nervous around her that I just ignored her. Whenever she tried to speak to me, I would walk away or just act like she wasn’t there. And, now, I am finally more confident, she can’t even be near me without glaring in my direction at least once. 

You yearned for someone to talk about you that way. No one had ever told you that you were beautiful. You didn’t need someone to tell you because you didn’t believe it, it’s just that sometimes, on the inevitable bad days, you want to feel wanted. 

NapoleonOfCrime: I’m sure if you explain it to her, she will understand - you said she’s smart. I can see why you like her. 

SherlockHolmes1887: Yeah, I fell hard. 

I fell hard. 

You recalled what Hotch had said, “Cause of death, blunt force trauma to the head.” 

You recalled how the cut was messy and hesitant whilst the rest were neat. 

 You recalled how it was done postmortem whilst the rest were the cause of death. 

You ran out of Penelope’s office, straight to Dr Spencer Reid. 

“Spence,” you shouted.

You were both alone in the room. 

Spencer looked up from his phone. It was strange, to see him on a phone. You had always thought he was the type of person to hate technology. Instead, he seemed thoroughly invested in whatever was on his screen. 

“Who are you messaging?” You asked, acting causal.

“No one,” he said.

Lie.

“A girl?”

“No.” 

Lie.

Spencer’s face had gone bright red. It was cute; it made you smile. 

Why did it make you smile? 

You decided to change the topic before your face went red. 

“Do you have the coroner’s report?” You questioned. 

He dug through the many files covering his desk and held it up for you to see. 

Blunt force to the frontal lobe, that confirmed your suspicions. 

You stared into Spencer’s brown eyes.

“I know what happened to Sharon Lewis.” 

You explained how it must have happened. Sharon was reported missing by her friend at 19:37. She was supposed to be meeting her a 18:00. Mitch Lewis was at a bar from 17:30-20:01, this was confirmed by camera footage. This means that Lewis can’t have kidnapped his wife. Or, perhaps, she never went missing. She tripped getting ready to see her friend and fell down the staircase. She would have died upon impact.

Spencer nodded in agreement with your theory.

“When Lewis got home and saw his wife’s body sprawled out at the base of the stairs, he saw an opportunity…” 

“He dragged her downstairs to the basement, explaining the deep scratches on her back noted in the coroner’s report.” You said, “Lewis worked in construction, he had a table and tools down there, he said so in one of his interrogations. He placed her on that table and cut her. He butchered her. And then did the same to others to try and recreate the high of killing his wife.” 

“We need to call Hotch.” 

Four hours later and Mitch Lewis had confessed and was in police custody.

Derek and Emily had found Selene Harker chained to the very same table Lewis had carved his wife like a cold slab of meat. 

The team was on their way back from Quantico.

You found Spencer sitting on a bench outside the FBI building. Spinning the silver ring your grandmother gave you around your index finger, you sat down next to him. 

You both stared forward, at the road. 

You were glad that you weren’t the only one who was affected by cases like this. You were glad that you weren’t the only one overwhelmed by empathy. Your mother once told you that empathy without boundaries was self-destruction but you were just glad that after so much time in this field, you still felt something. 

Spencer eventually broke the silence. 

“It scares me, Y/N, how easy a life can end.” 

Spencer clutched his cane so tightly that his knuckles went white. 

Gently, you eased one of his hands off it and held it in yours. 

You could hear your blood rushing in your ears. It was deafening. 

“You know, when I was a kid, I was always tripping over things. I walked into doors, tables, you name it. My mum would call me ‘Crash.’”

He laughed dryly whilst your world began to crumble around you. 

You dropped Spencer’s hand. 

“Sh-she called you what?” 

Spencer turned to look at you, confusion and worry were etched across his face, “Y/N? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

It’s not that you were upset, in fact, you felt almost the opposite of that. 

Your voice was steadier than you expected when you spoke.

“He is the Napoleon of crime, Watson.”

“Y/N?”

“He is the organiser of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this great city.”

“It can’t be.” 

Spencer held his face in his hands. 

“Disappointed, Sherlock Holmes 1887?”

You said it mockingly but you were terrified of what Spencer would say. 

“No, Napoleon of Crime. Not even a little bit.”

True.

“You told me to explain how I felt to that girl so here goes. The first thing I noticed about you was your smile. I saw it from the other side of the room. And, Y/N, it was contagious. Just looking at you made me smile. You are so beautiful and so intelligent and I have wanted to tell you how desperately I liked you since the day we met.” 

He cradled your cheek with one hand. 

“And now I know that this whole time, as well as being the person I can see myself falling in love with, you are my best friend, my favourite, my person.” 

“I hate you, Spence,” you say just before you kiss him. 

Smiling against your lips, you hear him whisper, “Lie.” 

[joelhoney]

do u take requests? if u do, could i have an outbreak au where reader rides joel in his truck? thank u! i LOVED #1 girl btw

open road

wanted to practice my writing skills again so here! :)

warnings: 18+ !!!! smut, pwp, implied age gap, feminine reader, daddy kink sry, pet names galore

“One of the guys called you scary.”

The sky is dull, something bland and colorless in-between blue and grey—something that’s become a norm. A clear, cloudless sky comes once every few months if a trickle of luck happens to dwell upon the area, but even for a pair that travels as much as you and Joel do, the memories of that kind of weather have become few and far between. Joel is grown, though, and he’s wise, and he knows there isn’t any good that comes out of complaining over something as trivial as this.

Anyway, he’s got a whole little ball of sunshine beside him, feet propped up on the dashboard clumsily.

“Hm. What’d you say?” He grunts back, trying to hide how the comment has begun to make him think. He’s not new to the entire scary bit, but every time the comment arises he finds himself wanting to know your thoughts, if you agree, if you know he doesn’t mind the reputation as long as you find him the opposite.

“I said no, you’re just old.”

You’re in your socks because you hate the weight of the boots you wear, and you’re wearing one of his old shirts, from years and years ago, thin with wear and the collar cut off so it hangs across your collarbones. It’s your favorite, this ratted brown color with a band on it that performed when you weren’t even born yet, you think. Joel likes this one, too, he won’t tell you just how much; he just hopes you don’t pick up on the fact that he fucks you all the more harder whenever you wear this around him.

“I’m not old, sugar.” 

“You are old. Older than me and the guy who said you were scary.” A lithe hand comes twisting at the grey hairs on his temple. He tuts and you pull back, giggling out an apology. “When’re we getting there?”

“Slow down. The open road is a blessin’, don’t you think, sweetheart?” To Joel, everything is a blessing in the height of such an uncertain time—a blessin’, in his vernacular, his drawled-out twang. It’s his turn, now, to reach across the console and wrap a hand around your thigh. It tickles, and you tense through the material of your jeans. Sometimes you wonder if you can wear your dresses on tasks like these, ones not so high in urgency, but with a destination nevertheless. You want a clicker gnawin’ off your leg, be my guest, he said once, and that was that.

“I guess,” you muster half-heartedly, fingers skating along the expanse of Joel’s hand. Two of your fingers align with one of his own. Outside the scenery is mostly grey, barely green, lifeless, but interesting anyway, the ruins and the rot, blatant reminders of what you’re all living in the thick of.

You swallow and wrap a hand around his wrist. “Do we need to be there now?”

He huffs out this laugh between exasperation, and quickly he presses two fingers to the crotch of your bottoms. “So soon?” He’d just eaten you out before you left less than two hours ago, the hem of your shirt stuffed into your mouth so nobody would hear. You buck up into his hand, which has now left, and whine lowly in your throat.

“That wasn’t fair,” you bemoan, chasing his hand. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly. 

“I’m jus’ try’na enjoy the road, dove. Back then, this’d be drownin’ in traffic. People beatin’ the five-thirty rush. Now it’s jus’ you and me.” He hums some song, this soully little thing, one he likes to sing on the road when it’s just you in the car. If anyone else tags along, he’s silent. 

“Jo-el,” you whine. “No fair. You got me all wet.”

He sucks air in through his teeth, pats you lightly on the smooth surface of your cheek without even having to spare you a glance. “Be patient with me, sweetheart. We need to get there in time.” There’s an edge to his voice, hardened a bit; he’s not reminding this time, he’s warning. You pout and peek out the half-cracked window. Open road and the dim horizon, no sign of the building you’re supposed to stop at.

“Fine.” Your voice comes out like a sneer.

He clicks his tongue. “I said patient.”

“I am being—” you huff, crossing your arms and lowering your feet noisily. “It’s not fair that you touched me and then won’t even let me—let yourself—whatever.” You shuffle, bumbling irritatedly by yourself for a minute. 

If you ask Joel, some of his best moments come from getting you to behave.

Because you are virtually impossible to wrangle into some semblance of obedience. It used to be next to impossible to even get you to shut up, but over time it got easier—thumb on the pad of your tongue, knee shoved in-between your legs, hand wrung into your hair. Just like that, and you’re his pliant little baby again. If you ask Joel now, he’d sigh contentedly, say how proud he’s become that you’re no longer the bratty minx you once were.

But that would be a lie, he figures, once he hears the exaggeratedly breathy moans from his right.

He doesn’t need to look to know what you’ve wrapped yourself up into, your hand shoved into your unzipped jeans, rubbing slow circles along your pussy. It probably doesn’t even feel as good as it sounds, even if you make noises with everything he does to you. Feels so good, Daddy, you whisper into the air, and he trails a hand down to squeeze himself through his jeans.

“How good, baby?” He grunts, eyes flitting over to you. You, in that goddamn t-shirt and everything, looking delicious enough to eat. He’d told you once never to wear shit like skirts and dresses, but God the amount of times he hoped you’d wear them anyway, so he could bounce you up and down on his dick and have you barely undressed. He swears he has dreams of his favorite pink number, the one that barely even touches the middle of your thighs, tied at the back with a pretty ribbon. He loves tugging on that ribbon, watching the material loosen around you so he can grope you up and make you both feel nasty, listen to your jagged moans of daddy, don’t rip the dress while he’s toying with your clit.

“Not enough,” you say breathily. “S’your fault.”

“Mine?” He echoes with a grunt. “You’re the one whorin’ herself out t’me for a lick of my attention, baby girl.”

“Please, I’m—just a minute,” you heave out, voice wet and desperate. He wonders what’s gotten you this antsy, this restless, this needy for a taste of him. The thought gets him harder than ever, and before he even thinks to palm himself, your tiny hand is already there, and he’s shuddering from it. You know him so well, know exactly what to hold, exactly what to touch to get him to give in.

“Jeans,” he orders, eyes zeroing in on a blank patch of grass to swerve into.

Your jeans are loose already, and you barely have to shimmy before they hit the floor of the truck, tiptoeing your sock-clad feet out while he parks and wrenches his seat to a semi-lying position, dragging you over to him to sit on his lap, your thighs quivering on either side of his jeans.

You adjust yourself so the thick of his cock is pressed directly to your panties, and grind forward. He stops you, his hand coming down to slap against your half-bare ass. “I just wan’ed to get to the damn meeting on time, get the shit we needed, and go the fuck back to the zone.” Another spank. “Do you have to be such a goddamn brat, sweetheart?”

“I just—I needed you,” you half-lie, the lace of your pretty underwear delicious friction with what little movement you’re allowed. “Even wore the pair you like, Daddy.”

“Yeaaah, you did.” He sucks air in through his teeth, watching your cunt swallow the thin material of his favorite pair of yours. Pink and lacy, looted from a mall two cities away. “You know Daddy can never resist her, can you?” He thumbs roughly at your pussy, coercing the panties through your folds. “You know he’s dyin’ to fuck ‘er real bad, too.”

“Need it, I need it,” you babble, your movement causing the shirt to droop off. He gropes at your barely-covered chest, a low growl thrumming out of him. 

“What’s got my bunny all revved up, huh? Your energy beats the truck’s damn engine.” He lifts you up so he can let you drop onto his cock, bullying his tip into you until tears sprout at your eyes from the size of him. He’s always going to be huge, and it’s always going to be a whole thing, having to bottom out inside.

It helps that you’re wet, sopping and dripping onto his cock, his balls, his spread thighs, your own inner thighs—your slick is everywhere and it’s obscene. Every movement either of you make causes a squelching sound to resound across the stale space of the truck. “Fuuuck,” he grunts, watching your cunt swallow him whole. “I love this pussy, you know that, honey? Could lick her up for days, mark it as mine. Bully her when you’ve been bad.”

“I haven’t been bad,” you protest highly, eyebrows knitted and pink lips bitten. “You really are scary.”

“But you like it, don’t you?” He places two decisive hands on your hips and thrusts upward, so hard your head almost hits the roof of the truck. “Like it when Daddy’s a l’il bit scary, sugar? Like it when he spanks you, plays around with you a tiny bit? Hmm?”

Ah, ah, ah, uh, mmmf are all the sounds your mouth can produce, drunk on his huge cock, fat and splitting you in half. Ye yea yeah yeah please yes Daddy love it, you moan, each whimper punctuated by the tip of his dick kissing your cervix. You do love it when he’s bossy, a bit scary. He knows so. He knows how wet you get when he’s got your chin in his hand, cheeks smushed together. How much you drip onto the sheets when you’re bent over, spread open, and he’s deciding which hole to fuck.

“Makin’ a beautiful mess on my dick, baby, come on, give it t’me. Give Daddy your cum, I’ll give you mine back, won’ I, princess?” His gruff voice is demanding and rambling and all at once, you’re beginning to convulse around him.

“Close,” you whimper, “gonna cum, Daddy—”

“Yeah, come on, that’s a good bunny,” he grunts as you begin to gush slick around him. “Daddy’s gonna give you the milk you’ve been wantin’.”

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Good Omens graphic novel update: January 2024 ❤ 🐍😊

A toast to the new year, courtesy of your favourite angel and demon. Let’s start off 2024 with a preview of some new artwork from the Loot Packs, this time courtesy of Mark Buckingham: 

Our updates will, naturally, become more packed as the year goes on, and for January it’s a fairly swift one, but we promise from here in, there will be lots to cover. 

An update from Colleen

For those of you who missed it, Colleen Doran, our ineffable artist, has posted an update over on Substack detailing her 2023 working on the graphic novel, but also her own journey with various health issues and looking ahead to 2024. As she mentions, but it is worth reiterating: the Good Omens HQ team sends all the good wishes and support to Colleen, now publicly as we had previously done privately. The graphic novel is more than worth the wait. You can read Colleen's full post here.

Some admin...

Final reminder: Cameos 

Thanks to everyone who has submitted their photos. We’ve collated everyone’s excellent pictures for the various tier levels and been in touch if there are any issues, but we have to issue a final reminder for those who backed a cameo tier and have yet to submit. We have sent several individual chases to anyone outstanding and we want to make sure everyone who backed the tier gets their cameo. A final deadline of Friday 9th February 2024 has been set; while we will share any images submitted with Colleen beyond then, with the graphic novel significantly underway, we cannot guarantee inclusion beyond the deadline. 

Addresses

We’ve been messaged a lot about this, so to put minds at ease: we’ve not yet asked for addresses, and this will be done via PledgeManager when it launches later in the year. If you’re moving house, or have moved since backing, don’t worry! All is fine, and can be updated down the road. If you’d like to add more items, this will also be possible there. We’ll notify backers when it’s live, but you can also sign up for an update from PledgeManager if you’d like. 

A Masterful Masterpost

If you'd like to dive more into the behind the scenes of the graphic novel, there's a great masterpost to check out courtesy of @captainfantasticalright. You can view that on Tumblr and TikTok.

Pins? Pins! 

We’ve heard you asking for updates beyond the pins and while we’re working on getting a number of the items to the final stages for production and photographing to share with you, and plan to have some for next month’s update (wait until you see the socks that have just arrived), we’re not quite there yet. So, for those fans of “how many times can you say pins in an update”, here’s a first look at the bookshop pin from the mystery pin packs:

Pins are being notoriously shiny in photos, but exciting nonetheless. Here’s the first(!) delivery of pins that have arrived at GOHQ: 

Safe to say, we have a lot of pins. How many times have we said pins so far? One more for good measure: pins. 

A surprise!

(x) Until next time.