Can I just say how much I appreciate the fact you don't stray much from the movies?

It's just so refreshing to see a fic that is built on a clear, unbiased and simple canon base. This way, as you demonstrated, a writer not only has the ability to further explore the main themes and ideas introduced in the source material, but they can also go ahead and naturally develop their own by branching out on those fundamentals. They can offer their perspective by using the source material to their advantage, instead of working against it or even worse, trying to include all contradicting canon aspects. Part of writing a fic is kind of like offering your input in a conversation/disagreement. You have to listen carefully to what the other person is saying in order to form your answer...If you're listening to a thousand different people who are all saying a different thing (in this case, The clone wars, legends, novels, comics ect), you won't be able to give an answer that makes sense, much less give a structured and stable opinion.

I love how you were like "I know star wars is entering an era of a shit ton of spin off content with seemingly no end and most star wars fans know shit like who chewie lost his virginity to and what the kessel run is but screw this. The movies and maybe some late night wiki research is enough."

And you were right.

It's so funny, because I feel like I do ultimately stray pretty far from the movies. Not in terms of events I guess, but especially the prequels, I reject some of the underlying assumptions of what is said on screen and just treat it like fallible people strongly asserting opinions that no one calls them on. See: everything I ever assert about the Force/Anakin's "destiny."

I do think it helped me to stick with limited material. And it wasn't even because I saw all of this new SW content coming. I've mentioned this before, but when I started writing Don't Look Back (when it was just Like Fire and I naively believed I was gonna be done in 200k words, lol, rip past me) I hesitated a lot because as far as I was concerned, I wasn't a Star Wars Fan.

I'd watched the OT and PT multiple times. I knew that novels and games and cartoons existed, I knew people had consumed them all. I had been reading some SW fic because @mylongsufferingroommate had been sending me stuff they were enjoying and I was having fun with it. But like, I would never have called myself a Fan. I got goaded into writing this fic by people who knew me too well and really wanted a political thriller. I wouldn't have called them Star Wars Fans either.

Limiting myself to the six movies I had watched was a preemptive defense mechanism against a fan base I wasn't sure would want to accept me. My thin skin is my own problem, but every time I think about writing in a new fandom the same sort of nerves take me: what if my fanon is "wrong" and people are mean?

I guess what I'm trying to say is thank you so much to everyone who gave me a chance and encouraged me and were excited and shared that excitement.

And please, for the love of all the sky and stars DON'T GATEKEEP FANDOMS.

Don't tell people their canon is too big (@blue-sunshine-mauve-morning and @chancecraz have amazing fics that are much more compliant than mine to the broader canon, as a quick example), and definitely don't tell people their canon is too small. Walk away if you aren't enjoying something. Give compliments when you like something that is unique in a fandom you're familiar with. Be patient with people, be kind.

I could easily have given this story up if people hadn't been patient with me. I got comments as early as my first chapter from people who were angry with a single thing that I said and felt the need to tell me I was wrong. I could have left. I could have stopped.

I'm glad I didn't. But I wonder how many other people have.

Hello! It’s me again😅 and I loved how you did my request! Keep up the good work:) also I’d like to make another one (u don’t have to do it) of the same characters (Jason, Michael, pennywise and art) on how they’d react to their kid dressing up as them for Halloween:) maybe even a little toy weapon too! Again you don’t have to do this:)

Jason, Michael, Pennywise, and Art the clown’s reactions to x kid! Reader dressing up as them

Tagslist: @dootys @callmemeelah @mehidktbh @slash3rl0v3r @the-anxious-youth @mrs-heelshire @alexxavicry @vexeliers-breakroom @naxxsstuff @beel-mcburger @emychan @charliedawn @sleepypersonblog @slasherscrybaby @anim3l0v3r @kawaistrawberry21 @l0sercat

Jason voorhees

This man is confused, Jason has big clothes so compared to you, his clothes are dragging you everywhere. When he looked for his mask he saw you with it along with his machete.

He immediately got worried and took away his machete, waving his finger in front of you to tell you no.

He took back his mask too, putting it back on his face. The idea of it being a mini version if him was adorable, but you aren't taking part in the killings he do.

“Aw come on dad! I wanna look like you!”

You could see him take a deep breath, helping his clothes fit you so you won't fall or trip.

He’d find a safer thing for you to hold instead of a machete and a spare mask he had. By the time he was done, he took a look at you, you didn't exactly look like him, but he was proud at the thought of you being a mini version of him.

Jason will teach you how to set up some of his traps after constant begging, but that, he won't let you take part in anything else he does. If trespassers walk by with candy he’s stealing it for you

Michael Myers

All you’ll get is a head tilt out of him.

But behind the mask, he’s Intrigued by your wants to dress like him.

He’s a proud dad. But he’ll take away the sharp knife you have, simply putting it over your head so you can’t reach. He’ll look down at you struggling to take it back

“Dad come on give it back!”

He shook his head and out the knife up in a area you can’t reach. Michael is all in for sharp objects or anything that’ll cause destruction but you shouldn’t do it

The closest thing he gave you was a wooden spoon. It’s not a strong weapon but it can kinda cause harm. “Really dad?”

Michael nodded his head at you, giving you a quick pat on the shoulder, then giving you a bag, it was Halloween after all, might as well get you some candy

Pennywise

Pennywise finds it cool. But also tends to forget that you aren’t like him, you can’t and will never eat people, you’re not a cannibal.

He finds it adorable though, you trying to open your mouth wide like how he does, but it dosen’t work since he can unhinge his jaw in order for the deadlights to show

He gives you lots of balloons, and you’ll laugh every-time he gets into character on catching someone, you may be a child but your fear dosen’t affect him somehow. Instead, your fear makes him protective.

Pennywise one day saw you put on make up so you can look like him, if your make up starts to chip or starts melting he’d help you put it back on, he isn’t good at it but he’s trying. He wants you to scare kids.

Pennwyise will Watch from afar when you get candy, sure he can shape shift into a regular human but he wants to test you, and by the time you come back, he picks you up in a hug while laughing

“Good job mini me!”

Art the clown

The happiest man on earth.

When he first saw you, he couldn’t stop jumping up and down in excitement. Art can be ruthless, but he’ll NEVER let you touch his trash bag.

The trash bag is a no no, each time you try to touch it he’ll lightly hit your hand while waving his finger in your face

But he’ll find fake ones or will find more friendlier weapons to put in your own trash bag.

He did your make up himself. He’s good at it too. Sometimes he’s rough with it since he dosen’t know his own strength

He’ll have a proud look once you put the trash hab behind your back and follow him through the neighborhood for candy.

If any kids make fun of you you’ll scare them, Art is proud of you for that. By the time halloween ends your bag is full of candy, you and art take the time to sort through the candies that you’ll like and don’t like, the I es he don’t like, he’ll keep.

<3 Thinking Of gunil as your Boyfriend <3

👗Fluff head canons👗

We all know he's a real softy at heart and he would totally spoil the shit outta you

He's the type of boyfriend to send you random "I love you" messages while he's at work

If he's feeling extra nice he might send you a cute selfie too

Bro definitely brags about you to the members, saying how sweet and kind you are.

He's the type of boyfriend that'd get absolutely heartbroken to see you cry and would probably genuinely cry himself.

Gunil wouldn't like you wearing makeup, sure you can if you want to of course but if gunil had a choice he'd rather your natural face.

He'd give you soft kisses everywhere when cuddling (little baby 🤧)

He always becomes a sooky baby when it comes to you, if you say no to cuddles bc you're busy he'll whine and fuss for you to finish faster.

But his dominant side might come out every once and a while and he'd make you sit on his lap or pin you on the chair to make you give him attention

He'd love to flex his masculinity around you too. If something (like a jar of pickles) was too hard to open he'd instantly do it for you, same with reaching things or carrying things.

This includes when you take Gunil shopping with you. He'd insist on paying for almost EVERYTHING and he'd carry all of your bags despite your protests

To add to that he'd be a great support when your trying on clothes

Gunil would be the type of boyfriend that'd be anxious when going out to the pool for another man could see you and want you

To prevent such things happening he stands next to or near you at all times to be 1000% sure no man is going to steal you

Not that he doesn't trust you he just doesn't think he's good enough for you (🥲)

~Scenario~

"Gunil, seriously I can hold them," you say as you leave a shop in the mall. Gunils arms were loaded with bags full of clothes, make up and other little trinkets. He refused to let you carry any of the billions of bags he had.

"Nope, I got it," he reassured you. You sighed in defeat. He did this every time you went out, he wouldn't let you carry anything. He had to prove he's got it covered. The two of you went into another store and since it was near Valentines day there was a huge stuffed bear in the entrance. You got excited and pointed it out to your boyfriend. He said it was cute and you moved on. Later when you were trying a dress on, you went to go show gunil and you couldn't find him. After searching around a bit you found him at the cash register. The big bear plushie in his hands.

He then walked over to you and offered it to you

"My treat," he smiled.

💄Spice head canons💄

I think Gunil is a very hard yet soft dom. I don't think he'd be very dominant often but when he is he's definitely aggressive and rough

But his words don't match his actions he'd be praising you constantly and saying sweet gentle things while literally destroying your insides (💀)

Everyone imagines Gunil to be a bit of a choker but I'm just like 😨 whenever someone says that. I think he's too soft to do something like that to you, but if you're really that into it and BEG him he may just grab your throat.

But I think overall Gunil is very bottom energy and generally would be, he's a pretty cocky character but he just shatters underneath you.

He'd be a big baby for you, whining and begging for everything and depriving him of his relief is his biggest enemy so you use that against him.

I think whimpering would be his main source or sounds when having sex. You'd think because he's the whimpering type he'd be rather quiet but no no no he's LOUD.

Hit that right spot and he's melting all over you.

He's very sensitive to every kind of touch really but touching his face gently as you jerk him off could make him cum right there and then.

Toys wouldn't really be his forte but if you wanted to use them he wouldn't mind

But lingerie on the other hand, that's where it's at for him

If you're ever feeling submissive the number one way to make him wanna be the top is by wearing lingerie, it's that easy.

As for "mommy" and "daddy" terms I think he'd like to call you mommy but he'd do it in a quiet, innocent way.

As for you calling him daddy, he doesn't really care. If you wish to call him that go ahead

He would be such a body worshiper (😭)

He'd love to pleasure you as well. He'd often say things like "just sit on my face," or smth sjsjsj

~Scenario~

"Please mommy," Gunil basically whispered in your ear as you gave him a handjob, very slowly.

"Please what?" You asked seductively as you looked him in his eyes. He swallowed hard and avoided your eyes looking at him desperately.

"Faster," he somehow got out between whines. You gently grazed the palm of your hand across his cheek and angling it up to look at you.

"Your going to have to say it a lot louder than that,"

After he begged louder and louder you decided to give it to him (finally) and you decided to be kind and let him cum all over you. "Good boy,"

💕aftercare head canons💕

Gunil immediately goes into softy mode when you say your finished

He would also ask what you want to do, sleep, shower, bath, read, talk, the list goes on

He would offer you snacks and a drink of course

He would give you tons of cuddles (🤭)

He would ask if he hurt you too much if he was being dominant

~Scenario~

"Are you hungry?" He said, turning to you on the bed. You thought for a moment and nodded your head. "What would you like?" He asked and the two of them went out to the kitchen to grab a snack. You ended up just getting some packaged snacks and some milkis to drink with them. He gave you loads of cuddles and attention (as if you didn't have his undivided attention like 5 minutes ago) and you fell asleep on the couch with him after eating all of your goodies.

A/N: this one sucks lmao 😭 my parents have been fighting a lot and it's distracting sjsjsj

༺Yes, the past can hurt Pt.1༻

Pairing: Ebenezer Scrooge x reader

Summary: you are Scrooge’s long time friend, and from your perspective, Scrooge has just been the most perfect friend anyone has asked for, until he changes. Harry pokes the bear a few times, and suddenly, you tell your life story.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warning: Angst, Arranged Marriage

A/N: first Tumblr story! Sorry if it’s a bit awkward in some areas, and how rushed it might feel, but I really hope you enjoy it! Just realized I may have forgotten to accommodate for Hela’s accent and I apologize dearly.

The ice-cold floors of London shimmer as they blanket the streets, far and wide. The snow crunches under people's shoes as they walk. Townsfolk spoke to one another as a feeling of festivity launched itself into the atmosphere.

Christmas was tomorrow, and you had been with a dear friend of yours, Harry, spending your lonesome holiday there. It was somewhat of a party. A Christmas party to celebrate the season. Everyone was enjoying themselves until a toast was made.

A toast to someone you hadn't been very fond of for years. When Harry began his speech you had snuck out of the room, and stood alone for a few moments, before returning to finish the party strong, and finish it strong you did.

Once the party was over you felt rather glum, so Harry came to ask what was the matter. You could only respond with so much. “Mrs. (L/N) is everything alright? You seemed so low after my toast.” His concern garnered a warm feeling in your chest.

His wife Hela came along as well, sitting next to you with a soft hand on your shoulder. “I'm sorry if I ruined the party for you, Harry.” Harry shook his head. Placing a hand on her shoulder opposite his wife. “Oh heavens no! I just want to make sure you're alright.”

Hela leaned forward, to catch (Y/N)’s eyes as they looked toward the ground. “(Y/N), we are here to listen. Share what's on your mind.” their eyes met and (Y/N) smiled, her joy returning to her heart, but not for long.

(Y/N)’s eyebrows furrow deeply as she spits out her one thought. “That Scrooge makes me so angry, he used to be a good man, and yet, because of that old scum Jacob Marley.” Harry’s eyes widened at the statement. Shuffling in his seat as he's anxious with another question.

Hela seems to steal his question before he could ask. “You knew Scrooge? Before he became…Scrooge?” (Y/N) groans crossing her arms as she formed her next words carefully in her head. Hela and Harry patiently waited.

“To put it plainly, yes I knew Ebenezer before he became Mr. Scrooge. In fact, I've known him since we were children.” She sighs as she begins telling the story of her and Scrooge’s past. A knot found itself in her stomach.

———

There were barely any people around this time of year, all trying their best not to freeze to death on the roads. (Y/N), however, was not confined to her home. The cold winter air makes her shiver at night. The smell of baked goods made her stomach growl, and the colorless world made her feel gloomy, but her spirit never left.

The sky was cloudy, empty, and grey. As was every sky in recent months, but today was different. (Y/N) was sent to find a person she didn't quite remember the name of. Honestly, she was just wandering London’s snowy streets until she found someone who could help her.

She decidedly looked at the note, then looked up again. “Mr. Jenkins. He sounds familiar. He must be the kind man who makes toys!” she recalls. She suddenly feels the note in her hand fly away. In a panic she follows it, reaching up for it.

She follows the flying letter until she winds up tripping on her foot and falling into the pavement. She lifts her head, seeing the paper fall to the ground. She stands up, wiping the snow off her face and arms, before noticing a boy lifting up her letter.

“Mr. Jenkins?” he says softly. He makes eye contact with (Y/N) “is this your letter?” she looks around for a moment, and then nods. A light blush dusted her cheeks.

The boy walks up to her with a smile, handing her the letter. She can’t help but notice his big blue eyes. “What's your name?” he asks simply in response she stammers out her introduction to him. Her blush deepened. Oh, how embarrassing it is to be her. The boy simply smiles “it's nice to meet you (Y/N) I'm Ebene-” he's cut off by an urge to sneeze. When he sneezes he finishes his sentence “Ebenezer Scrooge, it's a pleasure.”

(Y/N) could barely hold in her giggle. “A pleasure to meet you as well, Ebesneezer Scrooge!” Ebenezer seemed to take offense to the name, yet he let it go. “Where are you going? Sneezer?” It doesn’t take long for Ebenezer to realize that her previous shyness shouldn’t have been taken for granted.

He looks at the time, he’s actually quite early. “I’m on my way to work.” He hugs himself as he continues forward. (Y/N), a bit puzzled, follows him. “Work? You're far too young to have a job.”

“Hm? Oh well, I’m the only one who can truly provide for my mother and sister in this moment and time.”

“Why not your father.”

“My father’s in debtor’s prison”

“Oh.”

“Why are you following me?”

“Because I'd like to be friends, and I don't know where Mr. Jenkins lives.”

Ebenezer stops in his tracks. Checking the time once more. Then he looks back at (Y/N) “I'll show you the way, are you new here?” he asks her. (Y/N) nods explaining how she's lived there for half a year now, and things are still quite new. Thus, the letter is safely delivered, and the two part ways, but that's not the last time they see each other.

For years to come, (Y/N) walks Ebenezer to work, and they soon become closer than most. Becoming almost as inseparable as Scrooge. It didn't take (Y/N) long to catch feelings for him.

———

“You. Had feelings for him?” asked Harry. He shook his head “that's not possible. Was he that nice before I was born?” Hela sent her husband a glare. Harry retreated promptly.

“Did you tell him?” she asked her. (Y/N) sighs before she admits, she never did, but God knows she tried.

———

Attempt 1: love letter.

(Y/N) and Ebenezer, now older, were walking with one another to Ebenezer's Job when (Y/N) handed him a letter. “Read this, when you get home that is.” Before Ebenezer could take it. A gust of wind tosses the letter out of (Y/N)’s hand and knocks it into a puddle.

(Y/N)’s flabbergasted expression warrants a sad one from Ebenezer. “I'm so sorry (Y/N), do tell me what was in that letter?” She combs back her hair and turns to Ebenezer. “uh…just a list of groceries to keep in mind next time you go…shopping!.” she grins awkwardly.

Attempt 2: a hidden message

(Y/N) knew Ebenezer wasn't the smartest, but still tried this method anyway. She wrote a letter, with certain letters capitalized, it was a simple “I think you're greater than most” message, however, it failed tremendously when (Y/N) didn't know what to write about.

“Thank you for the letter (Y/N) but what do you mean by…Horses lashing out at kite slugs?” Ebenezer asked later after the letter was delivered. His blue eyes shimmering against her own. (Y/N) laughs impatiently, but who could blame the man, that could sound scary to a multitude of others.

Attempt 3: get it over with.

“Sneezer!” she shouted as she jogged, stopping next to him as he bought something from the Market, “oh miss (Y/N)! A pleasurable surprise, is everything alright?” He walks up to her and the two meet halfway.

She heaves as he asks that question. “I'm fine, perfectly perfect, especially on a day such as this.” she took a step closer to him, a smile on her face as she spoke. “Ebe…Sneezer. I just wanted to let you know that I…I…I would like to-” the sound of a slap alerts both (Y/N) and Ebenezer.

The slap had hit a horse in the rear, and the horse was supposed to be attached to a cart, but unfortunately, the rope hung loosely below (Y/N)’s feet. When said horse was ready to run, the rope itself would tie around her ankle. She looks at Ebenezer and frowns “ah Humbug.” she's dragged off as the horse ran. Ebenezer and a few others gave chase.

———

“So I gave up.” Hela couldn't help but laugh at the last story, how unreal it felt. Harry patted his friend’s shoulder. “I'm sorry all that happened (Y/N).” he pulls her in close.

“Don't be, God just didn't want me to love then, and didn't want me to love later either.” Hela raises a brow at the statement. “What do you mean?” (Y/N) frowned. Shifting to a more comfortable position.

Hela, and Harry’s attention still on (Y/N) “My father got tired of me waiting for someone, and arranged for me to marry a man by the name of James Lincoln. That same year he met Isabel.”

———

(Y/N) watches as Ebenezer paces with a grin on his face. He's been talking non-stop about his new “friend” Isabel. “She just…I can't even name it!” he said joyously. His joy infected (Y/N) with her own sense of joy, but it wasn't the same, it was blanketed with selfish sadness.

“Sounds to me like you two are seeing each other like you're in Love!” that word made (Y/N) grimace internally, but she dealt with it. “Oh no…that's not possible! Besides, Isabel wouldn't love me the same way…would she?” he looks at (Y/N) who sits wide-eyed.

The bench she was sitting on moved slightly as she shifted her weight. “I don't know,” she says indifferently, and Ebenezer sort of looks at her longingly for a moment before his eyes lit up, grabbing her shoulders. “I'm going to go find out. Good luck with your engagement (Y/N)” he turns and rushes away, to find Isabel.

Oh, right. That. Her wedding was in less than a month and she was terrified of what it entailed, and where it would lead her. But she knew one thing. She'd be leaving a week before the wedding, Christmas day, and she had to tell Ebenezer before it was too late.

Days went by, and Ebenezer and Isabel became one, and (Y/N) was forced to spend more time with Isabel, and soon became another close friend of Fezziwig’s. Fezziwig is smart but not as smart as his wife.

Flora Fezziwig had a knack for picking out one’s emotions before one can even act on them. (Y/N)‘s sad eyes and clumsily loving looks toward a cheerful Ebenezer, never went overlooked by the patient woman.

(Y/N) was surprised when Flora stopped by her home, offering a walk through the streets to speak to her. During that walk she read (Y/N) like an open book, flipping through every page without a single paper cut. They stopped at a bench and spoke for a while longer-

———

“When are we going to meet James?”

“Harry!”

Harry covers his mouth and silently apologizes as his wife stares daggers into him. (Y/N) laughs and continues.

———

“You’re in love with Ebenezer.” Asks Flora.

(Y/N) is offended by the accusation. “What now?! I’m engaged.”

“So what? I’ve heard plenty of your relationship with that man and it’s never good, besides you don’t have to be single to be in love with someone else, it’s sad but it’s true.” She admits. A sigh escapes her as she squeezes her dress. (Y/N) mirroring her.

“I won’t tell you to change what you're doing, but I will say, when your past comes back to you, I wish you the best. “ (Y/N) confusion didn’t last very long, when a voice called out to her, and she got up and left. (Y/N) understood.

More days flew by, faster than a child’s first Christmas. Christmas Eve is normal until she’s invited by Flora to a Christmas lunch that apparently Ebenezer is going to as well, and apparently now your fiancé. As Flora would love to finally meet him.

The start of the party was slow, as it was the lunch part, but she didn’t mind, she got to reconnect with Ebenezer whom it’s been weeks since they last spoke. The smell of the food filled her nostrils.

She licks her lips when across the table Ebenezer clears his throat. She looks up at him, and places her hands in her lap, sitting up straight. Ebenezer couldn't help but laugh. Isabel looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he too sat up straight. Everyone spoke to one another, James not giving you much attention, despite being your fiance.

Ebenezer and her gradually send messages through quick movements, he points at her fiance with a tilted head, and she responds with a thumbs down and a deadpan look. He then raises an eyebrow pointing at his ring finger, she just leans back in her chair with bored eyes.

The two smile at one another, and Fezziwig stands up to make a toast, “before we begin our Christmas festivities, may I say thanks to my daughter, Isabel, and Ebenezer, for bringing and spreading their happiness today.” Ebenezer turns red, but a comforting hand rests on his shoulder. Isabel and Ebenezer share a loving moment, again.

James looks down at his fiance, and rests a hand on her shoulder as well, pulling her close. She looks down at the food, having lost her appetite. Once Lunch was over, (Y/N) sat by her lonesome as her usual dancing partner danced with a few other women from the group. She also watches Ebenezer and Isabel get along nicely.

An odd feeling of being watched enters her body as she holds herself. The music slowed to a stop, and as it did Isabel and her dance partner never parted. It was selfish for (Y/N) to love Ebenezer. For everyone involved, she’d never let anyone find out about her feelings, beside Flora. The music started slowly once again.

James comes to his senses, he reaches for her. He dances with her, spinning her in slow circles and holding her waist as gently as a stranger would. The music went quiet as a cold wind re-emerged. Memories and emotions wash through her as she dances.

She looks at James and then looks down again. Why now? Why after so long she’s forced to leave her home? Why? She’s taken off guard when James speaks to her. “(Y/N) are you ready to go?” He asks, she looks around, and the music has stopped, yet again.

(Y/N) shakes her head “let me talk to a few people first, before we have to go.” The sweet sounds of claps descend into silence as she turns to Flora. “Flora, my beloved friend, I must tell you something.” Flora leaves her husband and joins hands with (Y/N).

She couldn’t bare telling her friend face to face and decided to make it a wiser man’s burden. (Y/N) apologized over and over, her head on Flora’s shoulder, as tears fell down her cheeks. Flora honestly said nothing “tell Sneezer I wish him luck on his future Engagement.” Flora hugs her friend tightly “stay safe (Y/N)”

—----

“So, you left? My only question is how do you know Scrooge was as cruel as he is now?” Hela asks, rath level-headedly.

At this point Harry is sound asleep, while Hela is still listening, “do you want to hear more or get him to his room?” (Y/N) chuckles, and Hela sighs. Standing up to grab a hold of Harry’s arm.

Harry stirs for a moment, then his eyes open wide. Hela lovingly leads her sleeping husband to their bedroom. The newfound silence reminds (Y/N) of the peaceful, calmness of being in silence. Hela did return at one point or another, sitting down and relaxing next to her friend. “So continue,” she breathes heavily as if she’d just had to fight a bear.

Hela’s unlikely exhaustion proved amusing to the older (Y/N), who just giggled at her now messy hair and scooted over to allow her to sit down. “Alright, now talk to me,” Hela says as she relaxes into the seat, resting her cheek on her hand gently. “Alright, so I did leave, unfortunately. However, years later I returned, and just in the timely demise of Jacob Marley, I'll never forget that day.”

—---

(Y/N) had allowed years to go by, and she had no idea what was happening back home. When news spread about Jacob Marley’s death she begged James to allow her to visit her old home. It took weeks, but her plea was granted.

When she returned home things didn't seem so different at first glance, maybe save for old Mr. Jenkins being deceased as well, leaving only his son and grandchild, and the disappearance of Miss Isabel Fezziwig.

She wandered the streets, and through wandering, she heard word of her old friend through aimless listening. “I'm sorry for his loss! But he has no right to deepen me in debt any further! That old Scrooge.” the voice didn't sound familiar, so she chose to strike up a conversation.

She walks up and smiles at the stranger “Hello, ma’am and Ma’am may I trouble you for what you're speaking of.” because it certainly couldn't be HER Scrooge, could it? She lifted her nose in disgust. “Ebenezer Scrooge!” there it is. “That Flapdoodle is far too concerned with money than anyone’s well-being and I'm sick and tired of it!” the insult gets a chortle out of (Y/N), but she quickly composes herself.

“Where can I find him these days?” (Y/N) asks. The woman points in a direction, and she follows it. Walking towards a big, dusty old building covered in snow. The door isn't even locked when she tries to open it. It slides open slowly, creepily.

The sound of a dog barking causes (Y/N) to grab her chest tightly. She covers her mouth as to not curse. The barking ceases, but the sound of footsteps guide her attention to a door ahead of her, it's open. A dog pops it's head out and runs towards (Y/N). The dig promptly jumps on her and pins her to the wall behind her. (Y/N)’s laughing through all of this.

A voice calls out a name, the dogs presumably. “Prudence!” the dog falls back to the ground, and (Y/N) scratches the dog's head before it joyously runs off. “Back to pay off your debt I hope, come in.” (Y/N)’s blood went cold. No holding back now.

The walk feels longer than expected, stairs up to heaven that never stop. Her feet moved without warning, and she enters the room, warmly lit with candles, but otherwise dark. “So, Mr. William, tell me why it's taken you this long to-” his eyes float up from the paper he was writing on. His eyes widened.

(Y/N) stood in the doorway. A smirk hugging her expression as she raises an eyebrow. “Sneezer.” Her voice bluntly spoke, the warm hues danced on the two’s skin. Ebenezer slowly stood from his chair with a hopeful smile. “(Y/N) you’re here!” He walks around the desk. (Y/N) struts to the center of the room, to meet him halfway. He stops his body inches from (Y/N)’s, yet he doesn’t move.

“Where on earth have you been?” his eyes scan her whole body, seemingly waiting for her to move. She sees his eyes tailing up and down her body, and just looks into his blue eyes, and their colorful beauty, now wilted. “What have you been up to?” She crosses her arms, she laughs gently. She scans his face, side burns are growing larger and gray hairs short, but present. “You really age perfectly don’t you?” Ebenezer chuckles, a faint blush on his cheeks.

Ebenezer leans toward her “how’s your husband?” he asks, and (Y/N) shrugs her shoulders. “As good as a husband can be.” Ebenezer laughed. The two stand in silence for a moment longer. The moment feels like it could last forever, as memories splash in the puddles of yesterday.

(Y/N) clears her throat, turning away from having man, and sits in a seat across from his desk. “Sit with me Ebenezer, and catch me up with recent events. The good, the bad, the Merry?” Ebenezer sits back at his desk. He holds the bridge of his nose tightly.

“Though I do miss you. You are one of the best friends I could ever ask for, I have work to do.” he looks down at his paper, and begins scribbling something down yet again. “Sneezer? Ebesneezer if you prefer-” she ignores his look of blatant disgust at the name. “We're friends! it's been decades, A little work can't come between that!” she begs. Ebenezer shakes his head.

(Y/N) realized that moment they just shared, was wasted, and now (Y/N) stands alone. “What happened? Was it Jacob that made you this way, I wish that man peace in the afterlife, but good heavens he was such a horrible influence on you. Fezziwig was a kinder man. When you sent me that letter-” (Y/N) blabbers on, and soon Ebenezer’s anger got ahead of him.

He slams his hands on the table as he stood, silencing the poor woman, his eyebrows furrowed deeply as he glares at (Y/N), before his eyes soften “Can you please just leave?” he says, (Y/N) knew something was wrong, and walked over to his desk, leaning on it. “It's not Jen? Is it?” Ebenezer looked up, eyes wide, and full of shock.

(Y/N) frowned as she realized “their child…did she-” the sensitive topic caused Ebenezer’s glare to return. “(Y/N) can you please leave” the tone flew over her head, and she began walking to comfort the man. “Oh Ebenezer I'm so sorry for your-” “(Y/N)!” his voice seems to boom in the quiet room.

Ebenezer stares at (Y/N), and slowly begins walking up to her. His silence being ever more threatening than his voice ever could. “Ebenezer I-” she hits a wall, and her words choke in the back of her throat. “It’s Mr. Scrooge if you please. And would YOU please, leave me alone.” (Y/N) opens her mouth to speak when she’s forced out of his office.

The feeling of Scrooge’s hands on her shoulders never leaving

—-----

“My word,” Hela says simply. “I-I just don't know what to say.” The fireplace warms the room, the dancing flames seem to twirl, to spin, and to move to whatever music is playing, despite the silence. (Y/N) sighs. “Not much to say, other than “Humbug”.” She laughs awkwardly.

The bell. Chimes at 4, and (Y/N) stood up. “We’d better get to bed, and you need to go get your rest before your husband wakes up.” Hela walks with (Y/N) to her room, Hela is one of the kindest friends she could ask for in this day and age.

Hela left her alone, and she laid in her room, contemplating her lonesome emotions. The cool air passing through the windows, and the sweet sounds of silence ease her off as she drifts to sleep, but she wishes it were that easy.

She stays up late, thinking of what ifs, what could have beens and what's next scenarios. Almost driving herself mad in the process. A swift wind passes through the room. (Y/N) grabs the thin blanket, covering her body with it.

The ice cold floors of London stand silent at night, snow thickening as Christmas brings new layers of joy to children and adults alike. The whispers of the ice, and the giggles of the moon carry (Y/N) off into a peaceful night sleep, but still pondering by morning.

Christmas morning…

(Y/N) chose to sleep in on Christmas day, because what the hell? It's Christmas! (Y/N) was wrapped in her sheets, late into the day, when there was a knock on the door. (Y/N) groans, finally getting out of bed, and walking to the door. When she opens it up, she's surprised to see Harry's big smile. “(Y/N) uncle Scrooge invited us all for dinner! You truly must come! It could be a surprise!”

(Y/N) is surprised by the sudden outburst of her friend, but it doesn't take long for her to take in what he said. “Get dressed, get dressed! I just can't wait!” he turns on his heel, dancing his way to his wife who is more than elated. She laughs, ignoring the pit in her stomach. It's one dinner. What could go wrong?

End of part one <3

Pt. 2 “But it can heal, if you learn from it”

Cast Of Characters

Beneath the read more is an image and short description of some important/interesting characters living in the world of kin-origins! I can't wait to introduce you all to them!

Lance Lowell

Lance is a deaf and grumpy vampire who could pick a fight with everyone and everything. He isn’t exactly intimidating, him being an average height and not that strong, but that doesn’t stop him from blindly starting fights with people clearly stronger than him. Lance loves acting and hopes to make it his job someday. He also has a sweet tooth and absolutely adores anything Halloween related.

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Lucas Lowell

Lucas is mute and a very sweet and kind person. He acts rather fatherly around people who are smaller than him… Which is basically everyone, ever. He too can be rather playful when he’s with friends and his brother, Liam. Lucas also has the tendency to gossip and is usually caught up with the latest internet drama. Lucas loves designing clothes and hopes to make it his job someday. He’s pretty up-to-date with what’s trendy but would much rather design something eccentric and more aesthetically pleasing than to go with the trends.

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Liam Lowell

Liam is a very cheeky, blind guy who loves joking around and meeting new people! He loves partying, flirting and expanding his love life. He’s a very “sex: yes please” type of guy. Liam also loves everything ocean/pirate related. He often finds himself at a nearby beach or haven just listening to the sounds of the waves. He really likes sculpting too, he’s quite good at it. Liam has the bad habit of stealing, lock picking, pickpocketing and abusing drugs/alcohol.

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Pip Outteridge

Pip is a very shy and extremely anxious person. He’s got social anxiety so hanging out with his friends can become quite stressful. Pip is also autistic and he can often be found fiddling with his hands. He is way calmer around animals and the woods though, so he spends most of his time in nature and around his sister, Donut. Pip likes cooking and photography. He usually practices these hobbies around Donut and more often than not stops whatever he’s doing to play with her. He is also very interested in biology and if he’s comfortable enough, he might tell you a cool little biology fact he knows…

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Donut Outteridge

Donut is a very go-lucky kima! She sees the good in everyone and truly believes she can become friends with the whole world. She’s very close with her brother Pip and hangs out with him the most! Behaviour wise she is still very young and pretty childish. She still plays with toys and is very innocent. Donuts are OBVIOUSLY her favourite food! But besides donuts she’s also very fond of blueberries, kruidnoten and those candy peaches. She also really likes drawing and often draws her crow character named Caw! Donut is my online mascot!

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Nameless

Nameless is a mischievous little know-it-all who likes to mess around and learn about the creatures and cultures around him. He is very intelligent and uses his intelligence when he’s physically not capable of avoiding trouble. He’s quite good at manipulating others. He knows a lot about the biological aspects of a creature, but is rather outdated on his knowledge when it comes to culture and languages. Nameless loves messing with the the main gang’s heads.

This character can shapeshift, open portals and a whole bunch of other stuff if he’s gotten enough negative/positive energy from other people. this energy is emited when someone is really sad/depressed or excited/happy.

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Damien Woodcock

Damien is a mischievous banshee who’s overly cheerful and very hyperactive! He often doesn’t see the harm in laughing at unfortunate situations and in general laughs a lot to cope with fear or stressful situations too. His behaviour is rather unsettling to some and his enthusiasm can quickly become obnoxious. People think he’s crazy…. And they’d be right… but he’s really harmless and just wants to be your friend. Damien also has a tendency of ending up in very comically incriminating positions, usually depicting him as having killed something, while there’s usually an innocent explanation for it.

Damien is a he/him banshee because he’s intersex

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James Cunningham

James is a clumsy artist who is very awkward in social situations and prefers to spend his time painting alone at home. He isn’t a very good painter, his clumsiness usually causing something to go wrong with his paintings, but he still enjoys the paintings he ends up with very much.

His best friend is Shun. Shun used to be stuck in his body with him after possessing him, but she’s out and living with him now. He’s British-Chinese and she’s Japanese, so they have a pretty big language barrier. Despite this, they get along pretty well.

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Shun 旬

Shun is a mischievous oni who got trapped in a tea pot long long ago. She’s very strong-willed and bold and can sometimes come off a bit harsh with her words and gestures. She is very loving though and will consider you her kin when you’ve become friends with her.

Shun has grown really close to James with the time they’ve spend together, despite of the language barrier. She’s very protective of him and will fight anyone who dares to look at him the wrong way.

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Maaike Lowell

Maaike is the Lowell trio’s grandmother and main caregiver! She loves joking around and tricking people. She owns a flowershop she maintains with Ned, Rox and Cloud. Maaike also isn’t very open about her past, usually avoiding questions with a giggle…

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Alex de Vries

Alex is a werewolf and Lance’s best friend. He’s a pretty cool dude to hang out with once he actually has time to chill. He has to work multiple jobs to pay his rent and be able to pay off his college depths. He studied economy. He works as a cashier in a small supermarket during the day and works as a pizza delivery guy at night. Alex is usually very exhausted and hasn’t had any hobbies to invest in since he left college. When he gets home he either chats through messenger with friends, watches some videos, or immediately falls asleep the second he sits down.

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Ned Hunt

Ned is a sweetheart stoner who would do anything to turn a stranger’s frown upside down. He isn’t the brightest light around though. He’s very forgetful and often forgets important things. Like his mum Sarah’s name. He’s the one who turned Lance into a vampire when he was little. Lance thinks Ned’s still in the UK, and doesn’t know he’s actually working in his grandma’s flowershop. They always seem to comically miss eachother

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Gnörf

Gnörf is your friendly neighbourhood cryptid. He might look scary and smell really bad, but he will do you no harm. He gives really good advice and treats everyone like they’re old friends. Gnörf believes kindness is the key to a better world and hopes his life advice brings people into a positive and bright direction in their and other people’s life.

Gnörf also speaks in the third person for some reason.

Toyhouse Profile

More characters can be found on my Toyhouse!

How To Read Dog Body Language

Dog body language involves a series of unique methods for communicating emotions and intentions. It can be quite different from how humans communicate.

A lot of canine communication consists of barks, whines, and growls, so it’s important to know what dog sounds mean. More often, though, dogs rely on nonverbal body language. That can lead to plenty of human-dog misunderstandings. Sometimes, dog body language is simply unfamiliar (after all, people don’t have tails). At other times, it’s in direct contrast with what that same signal means to a human, such as with yawning or looking away. To better communicate with your canine companion, learn some tips on reading dog body language.

Tail Wagging

Tail wagging seems like an obvious body language signal. If a dog’s tail is wagging, the dog is happy, right? Wrong. People misinterpret this signal all the time. All a wagging tail means is that the dog is emotionally aroused. It could be excitement, but it could be frustration or worse. To interpret the dog’s emotions and intentions, look at the speed and direction of the wag as well as the position of the tail.

Basically, the faster the wag, the more aroused the dog. Think about those long, slow, side-to-side tail sweeps your dog makes when greeting you — the type that wag the dog’s whole body. That’s a relaxed dog. A faster twitch-like wag indicates a higher level of arousal and possibly in a negative way. Think of a guard dog on alert.

The direction of the wag may hold clues as well. A recent study on tail-wagging showed that dogs tend to wag more to the right when they feel positive about something, like interacting with their owner. Tails wagged more to the left when dogs faced something negative. Then, there’s the helicopter tail wag where the dog’s tail spins in a circle. Without question, that’s a happy wag. You’ll usually see it when a dog is greeting a beloved person.

Finally, the position of the dog’s tail relative to the ground holds important clues about their emotional state. Essentially, the higher the tail, the more assertive the dog. Dogs with their tails pointing down to the ground or even tucked between their legs are feeling fear and stress. Dogs with their tails held up like a flag are feeling confident, perhaps even aggressive. Relaxed dogs hold their tails in a neutral position, but neutral depends on the breed. Some breeds, like Chow Chows, have tails that naturally curl over their backs whereas breeds like the Italian Greyhound have a very low neutral tail position. If you get to know your dog’s neutral tail position, you will more quickly recognize when their emotions have shifted.

Raised Hackles

When a dog’s hackles are raised, it means the hair along their back is standing up. Technically called piloerection, the fur can fluff up across the shoulders or down the back and all the way to the tail. This is a definite sign that the dog is aroused, but not necessarily in a negative way. The dog might be upset or stressed but could also be excited or intensely interested in something. It’s often an involuntary reaction, like goosebumps in people.

Posture

A dog’s weight distribution can tell a lot about mood and intention. Consider a cowering dog that is hunched toward the ground. That’s a sign of fear or stress. The dog may be trying to get away from something and the posture makes the dog appear smaller. In other words, it says, “I mean no harm.” The extreme of this posture is a dog that rolls onto their back exposing the belly. This may look like a dog soliciting a belly rub, and in a relaxed dog, it often is. But it can actually be a sign of considerable stress and anxiety. The dog may even urinate a little in appeasement.

The opposite posture is a dog with his or her weight shifted forward. This dog is trying to get closer to something. This might simply indicate the dog’s interest. But it could also indicate offensive intentions, particularly paired with other aggressive body language cues like a twitching tail held high. In this case, the dog is trying to appear larger.

An easy-to-read aspect of dog body language is the play bow. This is when dogs place their chest on the ground with their rump in the air. As the name implies, it’s used to initiate play with other dogs and even with people.

A less easily understood signal is the paw raise. In the pointing breeds like the English Setter, the paw raise is part of pointing behavior where the dog indicates nearby prey. But outside of this context, a raised paw often indicates a dog is uncertain about a situation or perhaps feels a bit insecure.

Facial Expressions

Dogs have similar facial features as people, but they don’t use them in the same way. Consider yawning. People yawn when they’re tired or bored, but dogs yawn when they’re stressed. Dogs use yawning to calm themselves in tense situations and to calm others, including their owners. She suggests yawning at your dog to provide comfort at stressful moments like a vet visit. But don’t be surprised if your dog yawns back. Just as yawning is contagious in people, dogs can “catch” yawns too.

Lip-licking is another bit of dog body language that people often misinterpret. Just like people, dogs will lick their lips after a delicious meal, but they will also do it when they feel anxious. Sometimes the tongue flick is so quick it’s tricky to notice. Your dog isn’t signaling a desire to lick your face, but rather discomfort with a given situation.

The most confusing facial expression is smiling. Yes, some dogs smile, and if you’re not familiar with the expression it can look terrifying. Usually, when dogs bare their teeth, it serves as a warning, as if they’re saying, “Look at my weapons.” It’s hard to mistake the aggressive intention of a snarl, especially when it’s paired with a menacing growl. The corners of the dog’s lips form the shape of a C and the front teeth are fully displayed.

Smiling dogs also display their front teeth, but the meaning is the complete opposite. Also known as a submissive grin, this expression is often found on a happy dog with a loose and wiggly posture. The dog’s overall attitude says, “Hello, I come in peace.”

Eyes

You can learn a lot about your dog’s internal state by looking at the eyes. First, a dog’s eyes can be soft or hard. Soft eyes have relaxed lids and sometimes look like the dog is squinting. They indicate the dog is calm or happy. The opposite is hard eyes where the eyes seem to go cold. These indicate a negative state of mind, and you’ll know them when you see them. The dog might be guarding a toy or feeling aggressive. A hard stare, where the dog looks intently at something, especially for a long time, usually signals a threat.

Eye contact is an important signal for dogs. Just as the hard stare can be a precursor to aggression, looking away is meant to calm a situation. When dogs feel stressed, they will pointedly look away and avoid eye contact. People often interpret this as their dog ignoring them or being stubborn, but the dog is expressing discomfort.

The whites of the eyes are another key indicator. Known as “whale eye”, when a dog shows the whites of the eyes, it’s a signal they are feeling anxious or stressed in a situation. You might see them when you make your dog uncomfortable, like when you pat your dog on the head, or when they’re afraid someone will steal a bone or toy.

Deciphering Dog Body Language

None of these dog body language signals act alone. They are all part of a package. So, when you read a dog’s communication, look at every signal the dog is using from the tail height to the eye shape. Your dog is “talking” to you all the time. If you learn what your dog is saying, you will develop a deeper bond of trust and respect. Plus, your newfound understanding of your dog’s emotional state will help you predict your dog’s behavior and prevent problems before they occur.

Fission & Fusion (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: How did the refined and proper Wilhemina Venable end up working for two coked-up tech bros out of the back of a van?

An origin story of sorts, dedicated to the amazing @lucyintheskywithxanax who has developed such a beautiful and nuanced depiction of Mina. This was inspired by her incredible story “And I failed to climb the mountain”.

Word count: ~2500

Professor Thompson was not surprised that she had to go searching for Wilhemina the following evening. Part of her had hoped that the young woman would have been waiting for her, a sign that she was allowing herself to accept the genuine support proferred to her. That was not to be. It was only natural, she supposed, as she made her way through the concrete wasteland that served as the hotel's parking lot, that after a lifetime of being belittled and dismissed, of being told she was nothing but a burden, that Wilhemina would find it difficult to accept help. To even believe that the offer of help was genuine.

The older woman shook her head as she raised her her hand to knock on the door indicated by the disinterested girl working reception. The world, and people, really could be so cruel.

When her initial knock went unanswered, she tried again slightly louder this time. Again she was greeted by only silence.

"Wilhemina." she called out, as she knocked for a third time. "Wilhemina, it's Professor Thompson. Can you let me in dear?"

In the beat of silence that followed, she could feel Wilhemina's indecision - her pride balking at the idea of reaching out to accept the tender care that her heart so dearly yearned for. For now, pride relented.

There was a jangle of keys as nervous fingers fought against the lock and deadbolt. The door eased open a crack to reveal Wilhemina, shoulders curled in on themselves, head bowed, face obscured by a curtain of red hair and supporting a significant portion of her weight on her cane. Her form fitting dress from the previous day had been replaced by black leggings and a loose fitting faun jumper which dwarfed her slender frame, sleeves extending well past her wrists where her fingers toyed anxiously with the cuffs. As the older woman eased the door slightly further ajar she couldn't miss the way Wilhemina flinched, obviously uncomfortable with any kind of physical proximity.

"Wilhemina?" the older woman coaxed. Glassy brown eyes peaked from beneath swollen lids, tentatively meeting her gaze. As she did her long hair shifted just enough to reveal the array of grazes decorating her right cheek and temple, chronicalling the previous night's events like braille across her skin. Wilhemina fought against the instinct the pull away as the older woman gently lifted her hair to inspect the damage. And as much as she hated allowing anyone to bear witness to her weakness she couldn't help but wonder when she had last been touched with such tenderness.

And maybe that was what gave her the courage to recount the events of the night before, those soft, caring touches that spoke more than words ever could, that whispered insistently that she deserved so much more. From the grinding weight against her fingers to the sickening crunch of her skull on the concrete, the smell of stale alcohol and tobacco, and the taste of dispair as calloused fingers rifled through her book bag and located the money that was supposed to be her lifeline. And more than all of that, the shame of laying sprawled out on the concrete unable to move.

Eventually the sound of the steal capped boots had disappeared into the distance, apparently deciding she wasn't worth any further humiliation. You're too ugly even for that, her mother's voice cooed. Slowly, she had managed to lever herself from the ground, bracing herself between her cane and the wall. Her trembling fingers had finally managed to overcome the lock but all too late. She stumbled across the threshold, collapsing onto the bed, curling in on herself in a futile attempt to prevent any further pain.

Professor Thompson's fingers were back at her cheek, tenderly chronically the array of scrapes and bruises that were beginning to blossom across her pale skin. How hard had she hit her head? Did she lose consciousness? Does it hurt if I push here? Any blurred or double vision? Any other injuries? Her hands? Her knees? Her back? No. All just bruised, like her ego, and her heart.

Wilhemina remained fascinated by the cuffs of her sweater throughout Professor Thompson's assessment, fingers picking at small imperfections in the fabric. By the time she raised her eyes the older woman was already moving busily around the room collecting her meagre possessions into her discarded book bag. "Have I missed anything dear?" Wilhemina could only shake her head dumbly in response though her confusion must have permeated her features for Professor Thompson quickly added "If you think for one moment I am letting you stay here on your own Wilhemina, after what happened, you are very, very mistaken".

The older woman slung the sum total of Wilhemina's possessions easily over her shoulder, before extending her hands to the younger woman to help her to her feet. And for once Wilhemina felt no pity or judgement in the gesture, only genuine care.

It felt good to let go for a moment, she thought, as she allowed herself to be escorted to the older woman's car. To hand over the reins, even if momentarily, to someone who genuinely had her best interests at heart. She had always been independent, self-sufficient, mature; garnering praise from countless adults for how grown up she was ever since she was tiny. There had been other words too - bossy, control freak, frigid bitch - a need for order and precision in the small parts of her life that she could control. But she was so tired after trying to hold it all together on her own for so long. Because in reality she wasn't in control at all.

Wilhemina jumped as the driver's side door opened, having not really registered that Professor Thompson had disappeared, let alone returned. The older woman shot her a sympathetic glance in apology for having startled her before starting the car and pulling out of that god damn parking lot.

Not long after she found herself seated at her professor's kitchen table, a warm mug of sweetened tea once again pushed into her hands whilst the older woman cooked. She managed to only feel slightly guilty about that. The room reminded her a lot of the woman herself, no frills and practical but with an undeniable warmth, full of mismatched crockery rather than complete sets, as if each piece had been hand picked for its bawdy colour or intricate pattern. Like her office, Professor Thompson's home seemed a little worn around the edges in the best of ways, it spoke of memories and a life well lived. From the rings on the wooden table from endless hours of conversation over tea, to the dings in the plaster from exhuberant grandchildren the house could not be further from the modernist sterility Wilhemina had become accustomed to.

The next thing she knew a steaming bowl of stew was being placed in front of her and the older woman was joining her at the table. "I hope you don't mind, dear, I know it's nothing very fancy" the older woman added as Wilhemina stared fixatedly at the bowl in front of her. Don't be so rude you ungrateful idiot. "No of course not, it's smells wonderful, it's just that I don't think anyone has ever cooked anything for me before. Thank you."

The older woman paused at that, spoon left resting against the side of her bowl. "Surely your mother did, at least?" Wilhemina scoffed at that, the very idea of Fleur Venable undertaking a task a menial as cooking was almost amusing. "No, my mother never had much interest in cooking, especially when she could pay someone to do it for her." A wry smile passed over the older woman's face "Maybe I should have listened when everyone told me to go into private practice rather than academia, it certainly seems to have worked out well enough for your father. Though I don't think I would have found much contentment in commercial law, I don't think I would have been particularly fond of spending my professional life making rich people richer."

"I don't think it brought my father much contentment either, though that might have been living with my mother" Wilhemina muttered, drawing unapologetic laughter from the older woman. After that the meal was finished in comfortable silence.

Wilhemina was about offer to help with clearing the table when something fuzzy brushed against her leg drawing an embarrassing squeak from her, which she quickly clamped her hand over her mouth in an attempt to muffle. "Oh it's alright, my dear, it's just Miko. Hello my sweet boy" the older woman cooed to the grey tabby cat rubbing affectionately at her ankles. "Oh I know sweetheart, I missed you too."

Miko, seemingly satisfied that he had greeted his mistress appropriately, took that moment to return his attention to Wilhemina, who's anxious gaze flicked between the cat and his owner. "Oh I'm sorry my dear, you're not allergic are you?" the older woman asked in response to Wilhemina's obvious apprehension. "No, I'm just not very good with animals" Wilhemina replied as Miko began sniffing at her ankles.

"He likes it if you scratch behind his ears" the older woman suggested.

So, slowly, Wilhemina allowed her right hand to unfurl from it's safe home in her lap downwards towards the inquisitive feline, or at least as far as her spine would allow. Miko craned his neck upwards to bridge the gap, first sniffing at her fingers before quickly beginning to nuzzle against them. Hesitantly Wilhemina began to trail her nails along the cats scalp, concentrating her ministrations behind his ears as his owner had suggested. She was rewarded by purrs of contentment, as Miko nuzzled into her hand with increased vigour. She couldn't help but smile at that.

Soon after Miko raised his front paws onto the bottom railing of the chair in an effort to get closer to Wilhemina, and began nuzzling into her thigh in earnest.

"What is he doing?"

"Oh don't worry, dear" the older woman replied. "He's just saying that he likes you. Well I suppose to be more correct he's transferring his scent onto to you to claim you as his, just in case any other cats get any ideas."

"I don't think anyone has ever claimed me as theirs before" Wilhemina whispered, fingers still threading tenderly through Miko's fur.

"Well Miko certainly has and so have I" the older woman replied, "and we both happen to have excellent taste."

Wilhemina could only reply with a small, trembling smile.

"Now come on dear, you've had quite an eventful few days and I doubt you slept much last night"

Wilhemina nodded and allowed herself to be escorted up the stairs towards the guest room, Miko following closely on her heals.

The room which Professor Thompson showed her to was already bathed in warm light from the bedside lamp and her book bag had been placed upon the quilt covered bed.

"Now the bathroom is just across the hall, dear, and I've put out fresh towels for you. If you need anything during the night my room is just down the hall, ok?"

"I'll be ok, but thank you" Wilhemina offered the older woman a shy smile.

Professor Thompson made to leave for the night before turning back unable to stop herself. "Forgive me asking dear, but haven't you heard from your parents? Surely they must be worried where you are?"

Wilhemina did not share her certainty. "I haven't checked my phone." Perhaps childishly she didn't want to check, because until she did she could cling onto the slim hope that maybe her parents did want to know where she was.

"You should check, my dear" the older woman coaxed. "I'll give you some privacy, but I'll be downstairs if you need me"

"Actually" Wilhemina blurted before the courage abandoned her, "would you stay?"

Professor Thompson took a seat on the bed beside her as she rifled through her book bag for her cell phone. One missed call. She almost couldn't believe it when her father's cell phone number blinked back at her on the LCD screen. With trembling fingers she retrieved the voicemail.

"Wilhemina, I understand that your mother can be difficult but surely all this fuss isn't necessary. If this was about making a point, you've made it, you can stop with this childish fit and the two of you can discuss this like adults. Honestly Wilhemina, you know I don't have time for this right now, the McMahon case goes to trial in less than a week, I have better things to be doing with my time than be refereeing some petty squabble between you and your mother. Just sorted it out."

Professor Thompson killed the voicemail halfway through the pre-recorded list of options, they certainly didn't want to listen to the message again.

"I'm so sorry, dear, I shouldn't have pushed you to check."

Wilhemina shrugged. "If I'm honest with myself, I didn't really expect anything different. I just hoped that maybe, I don't know..." she sighed. She did know, she had hoped that for once her parents would show ounce of love and affection, or even just anything more than apathy. Anything to indicate she was more than a burden or the fulfillment of a tickbox in the game of life.

"You would have thought that by now I would have stopped getting my hopes up" Wilhemina muttered, tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks.

"Never" the older woman asserted. "You get your hopes up because you care and you have such a capacity for love, which makes you so much more than either of them will ever be."

She reached up tenderly to wipe the tears from the younger woman's cheeks, careful to avoid to avoid the dark purple bruising now staining her right cheek.

"Besides, their loss is my gain and you have a place here for as long as you need it"

Worshipers of the Spring

Part of the Worshipers Series

➜ Words: 9.5k

➜ Genres: 55% Angst, 40% Fluff, 5% Smut, God!AU

➜ Summary: The God of Wine is carefree and indulgent. Unlike many others who depend on pride and dignity, he does not care that he is not a powerful god. But when he stumbles upon a forest in the mortal realm, he discovers what desperation and anguish means.

The flowers bloom on command.   With one simple flick of the wrist, they bud and blossom, spilling over in an abundance of petals and flourishing in the living forest. The trees breathe, dancing together to the melody of the chickadee birds perched in their branches. It’s a hidden place that not many but brave souls or wandering children come across — a place where fields are verdant, hills grow and water bends.   And in this serene meadow, you are screaming.   If not from anger then out of sheer boredom.

The God of Wine waltzes into the grand hall.   As he stands with his feet rooted in the ground, chin high in the air and back straight, he runs his hand through his honey hair and then catches sight of a nymph dressed in loose robes barely hanging off of her shoulders. He smirks, the corner of his plump lips tugging with a sense of superiority and her eyes widen.   He winks and she nearly swoons to her knees.   “Jimin.”   The interaction is unfortunately cut short by a playfully stern voice, one where he can already envision the pout on the god’s face. It is only confirmed when he turns to find the God of Sun quickly skedaddling towards him, white and gold clothing swaying with him, and his glorious presence is enough to make the nymph scatter away with her cheeks blushing.   “You take all the fun away.”   “No, I am merely making sure that no one copulates on my floor.”   “Do you take me for some wild animal?” Jimin feigns offence and then bursts out laughing when Seokjin gives him an extended stare. “I can promise you that it would be extra fun to indulge in our lustful pleasures together, Seokjin. You, your concubines, and I.”   “You’ll know I’ll agree to that proposition the day the sun rises in the west instead of east, Jimin.” Seokjin fishes a red envelope out of his sleeve and hands it to him, the emblem of Heaven sealing it from being opened. “I need you to give this to Hansol.”   The God of Wine takes it with curiosity, wondering what Seokjin desires from the God of Mountains. “Isn’t he residing in the mortal realm?”   “He is.”   “I’m not your messenger boy, you know,” Jimin whines, realizing that he was called for yet another lousy task. “I’m supposed to be supplying wine to the gods, answering prayers of fertility, and throwing extravagant parties! Not reduced to delivering your letters like some measly servant.”   “I know, but you’re the only one I can trust, or at least the only one who I know won’t pry into my matters and try to open that and spread unnecessary gossip.” There is a held silence, and then the god of all gods relents. “The anniversary of the war is coming. It’ll mark one century of peace kept, I’ll let you host a celebration, alright?”   The corner of Jimin’s mouth pulls, the taste of victory sweet on his tongue. “That sounds more like it.”   //   There are many gods that despise mortals — it’s no secret when all they seem to do is beg, destroy, get greedy and beg some more. But the hatred has lessened greatly after the war, even when it was caused by a mortal. It’s true that the anger and resentment of the mortals forged the destruction, but it followed centuries of the gods being unforgiving and punishing. It was the consequences of them abandoning the humans for pride and contempt.    So while customs and habits have changed to ensure peace, the better part of Heaven still had their distaste for humans and the mortal realm. There were the strange ones who sympathized and adored mortals, but for Jimin, he was quite neutral.   At best, he found them amusing. Thus, he takes his time to enjoy the realm he seldom arrives at. Or at least those are his intentions until he descends and finds himself in an unfamiliar forest.    The God of Wine wanders for a moment, trying to find an exit, but it is strange. Even when the place is seemingly friendly, the sunlight cascading through the canopy of the trees and illuminating the shades of green into brighter hues, he cannot leave no matter what direction he takes. The trees seem to trap him inside.   Jimin is about to vanish away to free himself, but then as a breeze brushes through his hair, he halts.   The god catches sight of something. Or rather, someone.   Through the warm wind, peace blossoms flutter down from the tree like rain. It entwines with your hair, seemingly wrapping your entire frame with the soft colour. The petals decorate your crown, getting caught in your light pink silks adorned on your body, hugging you. The aroma of the flowers surround him, not pungent but rather faint, like a whiff of fresh perfume passing by.   “Stop that,” you scold while the loveliest of giggles befalls your lips and your nose scrunches as a petal falls onto your cheek until you brush it away. “It’s getting all over my dress and it tickles!”   You are the most beautiful person Jimin has ever had the privilege of laying his eyes on.   The God of Win’s breath hitches. He struggles to find the power of speech and then it uncharacteristically stutters out of him. “W-Who are you?”   Your neck snaps around at the sound of his sweet and soft voice. His honey hair is swept back, body adorned with luxurious black robes that are embroidered with gold swirls. Your gaze meets one anothers and it instantly goes quiet, the sound of the wind whistling between you two.   Jimin doesn’t notice the way the flowers around him bloom.   “Who are you?” The question is given back to him. “I don’t give my name to strangers.”   The corner of the god’s mouth quirks. “Well I’m not a stranger anymore.”   “You are until you give me your name,” you presumptuously state with your soft-spoken voice and the God of Wine grins, giving into your stubbornness.   “Jimin. My name is Jimin.”   “My name is Y/N.” A smile itches onto your face. “It’s nice to make your acquaintance.”   You catch a blossom within your hand, one that hasn’t bloomed into its full potential and he watches as you flourish it within your palm. The petals open up, pale pink that matches the shade of the sky during the first blush of dawn. Jimin is frozen in his spot as you close the distance, stepping across the forest floor to approach.   “I haven’t had someone stumble here for quite some time.” You extend your arm and he takes the flower you’re offering him, not sure what to do with it. But then you smile, quirking your head to one side. “Would you like to accompany me for a little while? I’ll make it worthwhile.”   Jimin smirks. “And if it isn’t worthwhile, then what shall you compensate me with?”   There seems to be a long moment where you genuinely contemplate, but after a beat, you huff out and have the audacity to grab his hand abruptly, tugging him along. “Just come see.”   Jimin nearly bursts out laughing. If you knew that he was the God of Wine who resided in Heaven, you’d probably get on your knees and bow — but your ignorance is endearing. For once, it’s enjoyable to be treated without caution or fear.   He follows you into a small meadow clearing where the tall trees surround and protect the area. The grass is a vivid hue of verdant, the lights soft with flower beds around. It’s clear that this is your home and that you’ve naively invited him into it. You have no sense of caution at all, unaware that he’s known for lust, that he embodies the entire idea of it. You’re merely humming underneath your breath, an infectious smile placed on your features.   Jimin wonders who exactly you are.   “I haven’t had a guest in so long,” you sing-song. “Come sit!”   You show him to a measly tree stump and he stares at you in indignation while you look at him blankly and then he’s giving in yet again. Jimin swishes his robes behind him and sits, thighs spread as he claims the spot like it’s a throne.   He eyes you as you waltz to several baskets under a nearby tree, tearing objects out. “It must’ve been a very long stroll to come to my forest. You must be hungry, right? Do you like nuts and berries?”   “I’m actually not hungry.”   Yet, you still come over with two wooden bowls that are filled with nuts, fruit and berries.   You place it on the pathetic stump in front of him, a small table of sorts, and you plop down across from him, smiling wide. Your elbows are propped on your knees, cheeks rested on your fists and you intently stare at him like he’s a new toy. “I insist.”   Jimin holds his sigh in his nose and takes a berry into his mouth. He nods at the taste.   If possible, you become even more enthused. “Like it?”   “It’s nice.”   “Yay!” You cheer and Jimin scoffs lightly with a smile. The things he does for fair maidens…   If Seokjin knew this was what he was doing in the mortal realm instead of running his errands, he might smite him. But in your presence, it might just be worth it. “I’m sorry there’s nothing to drink. I need to go to the stream again to collect freshwater…”   Jimin cocks a brow. It’s an opportunity to impress and he steals it while he still has the chance. “Well that’s not a problem,” he declares with a smirk and flicks his wrist.    At once your bowl fills with deep ruby wine.   You’re visibly taken aback, perplexed, and your expression quickly turns into a pout. You eye him. “You’re….not a human, are you?”   “Nope.” He playfully smiles, shaking his head. “I am the God of Wine. God of Fertility and Celebration, Jimin. Pleasure and drunkenness are in my domain, lust and bliss are bound to my will. Heaven knows no name but mine.” Jimin leans in, eyes connected with yours. You’re still surprised and a wolfish grin spreads across his face. “You aren’t a forest nymph, are you?”   “No.” Your head quirks and the corner of your own lip curls. In spite of knowing he is a god, you don’t appear to be anxious or reverential — and that fact is entertaining.   “What are you, girl?”   You hum as if contemplating to tell him. Jimin sits on the edge of the seat. But then—   “It’s a secret.”   The God of Wine scoffs. Though he must say, he likes the game you’re playing. Of all of his lifetimes, the females that have wanted him have given themselves to him easily. If he was not slapped by goddesses, then he had them in his lap. It’s not that he minds that it’s effortless, but you make him intrigued. He wonders how he can shed your coyness.   “You seem like a creature of many secrets.”   “I am, Jimin.”    Suddenly, the collar of his robes grabbed in both your fists and he’s pulled forward. Soft lips meet his. The god’s sound of surprise is muffled but he welcomes it. His eyes droop to become half-lidded and he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, dominating your tender point of contact.   It’s a velvet texture and Jimin can’t resist slipping his tongue into your mouth, drawing out those delicious whimpers of yours. It’s sweet, almost like what he imagines roses and tulips to taste like.   The bowls are soon knocked over, the wine dripping off the wooden stump and you push yourselves forward until the two of you are colliding onto the grass. Jimin rolls on top of you, pinning you to the soft meadow floor.    And when you both break apart to gasp for air between your swollen lips, Jimin realizes he was wrong.    You’re beautiful, but even more beautiful like this.   “Are you not fearful that I am a god?”   “Should I be?” you ask, shamelessly staring at his mouth and still grabbing onto his clothing with a tightening grip. Your hair pools around you, eyes glistening in the sunlight, your smile warm. Jimin considers that the best painting and sculpture in Heaven doesn’t even contend with you.   “You should.” He smirks. “I would hate to break someone as fragile as you.”   “Hmm, I’m afraid you’ve sorely underestimated me.”   “Oh?” Jimin’s shit eating grin expands. “I’ve had many servants, nymphs and goddesses cry for me before, Y/N.”   “And you assume I’ll be one of them too?” Your lashes flutter and he smiles, brushing a strand of your hair away from your face. “If this is a competition, then I’ve made plenty of mortals cry before too. Who knows, you might be the next one.”   The God of Wine laughs candidly and seals your lips once more in a searing kiss.   Your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him closer until he can feel your chest against his. His hand snakes up your leg, silk robes rolling up with it. Jimin knows it now — you’re a temptress. All you’ve done is play with him and tempt him, and he doesn’t know anything other than your name.   One moment he’s speaking to you and the next, he has you underneath him in this empty meadow. You are talented, he has to admit. To get a god like him crumbling so easily…   He is a master of lust but also one of self-control, though he was quickly losing it.   The thought has him pulling away before his desires overcomes his dignity.   “Where are you going?” It’s difficult when you look at him that way, rounded eyes and pouting as he comes to stand. You sound urgent too and it’s sweet. “Are you leaving?!”   “I’m glad you enjoyed my company, but trust me, pet.” Jimin leans down to tap your nose. “It’s better to miss me than to be bored.”   You scramble upwards, eyes glossy. “Won’t you stay a while longer?”   The god has an urge to kiss you, to hold you and bury himself inside while having you crying his name, but he shakes his head. “I’ll come back.” Jimin’s too smitten with you after all. “I promise.”   //   The envelope still sits in Jimin’s pocket, but before he goes to deliver it, he lingers in the nearby town. The God of Wine approaches a cluster of people at the marketplace and doesn’t hesitate to intrude into their conversation to ask about the girl in the forest. No one knows what he’s talking about, confused at who he is and what he’s inquiring about.   But before the god turns away without answers, a lady enamoured with his looks stops him.   “There are children myths. No one grown believes them, but they say there is a girl of flowers in the forest who makes the green grass grow. And a lot of young men who wander there don’t often return.”   The rumour has him perplexed and befuddled, coming up with more questions than answers. And before the woman can ask where he has come from, she looks back and he has vanished.   //   Jimin returns within three days' time, unable to break his promise or refuse his desires.   He descends to the forest, finding the familiar peach blossom tree and taking refuge beneath it while he waits for you. The God of Wine stays patient — surprisingly finding that he wouldn’t mind waiting years if he needed to see you. It all just adds to the anticipation after all.   Luckily for Jimin, he doesn’t need to wait more than a few minutes. He finds you wandering the forest while humming, a basket of flowers swinging from your wrist. And the moment your eyes connect with his, a smile plasters on your features, the basket drops to the ground and you’re running over.   The god laughs, worried that you’ll trip but you manage and even throw yourself around him.   “You’re back!”   He returns your embrace, arms wrapped around your shoulders. “I said I would be. You missed me, huh?”   “It’s not like I have anyone else to miss,” you say, pulling away from him and while he doesn’t know exactly what you mean, he’s distracted when you point to the bottle in his left hand. “What’s this?”   “It’s a gift for you.” Jimin smirks at your surprised delight and when you take it, he pompously crosses his arms across his chest. “The best wine in the entire universe created by yours truly. You should treasure it! It’s not often that others can receive gifts from the gods.”   “I...love it.” You’re ecstatic, studying the bottle intently as a grin expanding into your cheeks like you’ve never received a present from anyone before. And your genuine reaction only makes Jimin’s heart soften even more. You’re too naive, too innocent for him. It’s dangerous.    Jimin’s endearment for you makes him want to treasure you.    He knows he won’t be able to throw you away so easily — and he doesn’t want to.    “It’s only fair if I give you a gift too, right?” You smile tenderly, handing the bottle back to him for a moment.    Before he can protest and tell you that it’s unnecessary, you approach the tree and press your palms against the truck. As if you’re calling onto the universe or speaking to nature itself, suddenly the peach blossoms begin to bloom and fall. A warm breeze sweeps over the meadow, entwining into your hair and your dress. His breath becomes caught in his throat, head tilting towards the sky and he watches the way the pink petals dance in the air, enveloping him in a ticklish embrace.   Soon the God of Wine is being consumed by a whirlwind of blossoms. A storm of flowers raining down from the sky. It’s beautiful — especially with the way you cheekily grin at him, obviously enjoying how impressed he is by your powers. And it’s at this moment, as Jimin is encompassed by flower petals bursting forth, caught in the middle of this rain, that he finds himself unequivocally captivated by you.   “What do you think?” you ask of him when you’re done, arms behind your back as you tilt your head, lashes fluttering. There are still flowers drifting in the air, sweeping in the horizon downwards.    Jimin gazes at you and then he tugs you in by your waist. He presses his mouth against the delicate petals of your lips. He can feel you smile against him and that only serves for him to deepen the kiss.   His half lidded eyes soak in your sheepish expression and the God of Wine’s palm lifts to cradle your cheek. You’re letting him have his way with you and he’s unable to resist temptation any longer. Jimin’s fingers gently trail down to the collar of your robes and he slips them off your shoulder. The silks cascade down.   You’re a sorceress that has trapped him — who has completely enchanted him.   The two of you collapse back onto the forest floor, on top of the bed of fallen flowers. You pull him in, arms encircling his neck while murmuring his name through swollen lips that gasp for air. Your hands interlace together and Jimin eagerly parts your thighs with your timid permission, allowing him to slot himself where your heat is.    He kisses you again, plush lips against your neck, between your breasts and down to where you’re wet. As Jimin’s mouth wraps around your bud, broken sobs of his name are drawn out of your heaving chest. He relishes in the noises and the way your fingers sink into the hair at the nape of his neck to pull.   The God of Wine feeds off of the lust swelling between the pair of you and soon, you’re both trapped in his thick haze, intoxicated off of one another’s bodies. Jimin is drunk when he lifts himself to kiss you again. He is giddy when you urgently pull at his own clothes until he’s bare like you are. And he’s dizzy when he nudges the head of his cock to the pink lips of your heat.   Your legs wrap around his waist when he finally pushes in, groaning your name while you cry out, writhing beneath him. He brushes a strand of hair away from your sweaty forehead, finding you utterly captivating. You’re beautiful when you’re beneath him, surrounded by a bed of flowers, calling out his name like it’s the only thing you know.    It makes the God of Wine selfish — holding a desire to keep you here forever. To keep you by his side for eternity.   “Feel good?”   “Y-yeah.” You nod shyly, teeth sinking into your pink lips.   Jimin looks down to where you’re connected, where he continuously thrusts in and out of your weeping center. It’s mindless, where he succumbs to his own self-created atmosphere of pleasure, but when he looks up at you again, your eyes are fluttering at him. You have the sweetest smile spread into your face, hands grabbing at his arms.   He’s corrupting you in the middle of the forest floor and you don’t even seem to mind.   It makes his hips stutter and your breath catches in your throat. “J-Jimin.”   “I love you.” The confession spills out of him unintentionally.    They are words of affection that were always too great for the dignity and pride that he carried on his shoulders. Yet now it tumbles out without thought, without any consideration for the consequences or your inevitable rejection. But even when it's an accident, even when he fears the emotions swelling in the pit of his stomach, the God of Wine doesn’t mean it any less.   “Ji-min.” You’re gazing into his eyes before you’re cumming around him. He picks up pace and leans down to kiss you quiet, allowing the smallest of muffled whimpers to spill over. And then soon after, his pelvis hits against yours and he’s cumming deep into you, ropes painting your walls white, leaving himself inside your core until you’re dripping past.   When the pair of you are done and spent, Jimin holds you close. His lips lay against your forehead, arms wrapped around your torso as he dreams. “Let me bring you to Heaven.”    He doesn’t care who you are anymore. He just wants you by his side. “I can show you my home. You can have whatever you want. I’ll take care of you.”   Suddenly, his side becomes cold.   You’ve pulled away from him, body looming over his as you sorrowfully stare into his eyes. “I can’t, Jimin. I can’t leave this place,” you murmur with the scrunch of your brows.   He sits up with you. “Why not?”   “An….an angry god has trapped here.” Your forehead leans in to press against his. “I have to stay in this forest.”   The God of Wine pulls away, hands wrapping around your shoulders. His eyes darken and his tone lowers to resonate all around the meadow. “Who? What god?”   You shake your head. “I don’t know.”   Your anguish only serves as his own heartbreak.   //   The God of Wine has never been so bewildered and distressed. He is used to easing other gods, allowing them to become tranquil under the cloak of pleasure and drunkenness. In the realm of the gods, Jimin is fun-loving, carefree, irresponsible as opposed to many of their disciplined and imperious personalities. He enjoys throwing extravagant parties and celebrations, making wine to get divine beings under his intoxication, even when he is aware they are all trivial affairs that don’t affect the universe.    Jimin knows he is not a powerful god, but it has never bothered him. Until now.   Now, he yearns for you. Now, he has been overcome with such a strong emotion that his incapabilities bring forth frustration. Now, he is troubled instead of jovial.    It doesn’t make sense. There is no reason a god should ever punish you.   You are genuine, demure, kind hearted. You wouldn’t even hurt a flower or butterfly, much less anything else.    He does not know the reason as to why you have been trapped. He does not know who has punished you so. And he does not know who you are.   “Jimin.” His name booms from an individual with the scent of the sea wafting off his dark blue robes. His arms are placed behind his back as he walks with his lips tight in a line. And he approaches him in front of the palace of the Sun, below the hundred steps and on the cobblestone path “I was looking for you.”   The God of Wine brings his attention away from his thoughts and grins at the God of the Sea in all his glory. “The Great Jungkook looking for me? That doesn’t happen every decade! I am honoured.”   Jungkook is unamused. “I heard you were throwing a celebration to mark a century of peace.”   Jimin hums, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps.”   “I can assume then that you will not extend an invitation to anyone unnecessary.”   Jimin smirks, aware of the ongoing conflict between him and the Goddess of Sky. “Perhaps,” he playfully answers.   Jungkook’s eyes narrow. “It would be wise of you to tread carefully.”   He hums. “Perhaps.”   “Jimin.”   The God of Wine laughs. “Last I checked, Seokjin has given me full permission to do as I please, so I will. I don’t get to throw celebrations like this every century and you have to come whether you like it or not. But fear not, there will be plenty of opportunity for you to indulge yourself, so if you want to release some of your tension….”   Jungkook huffs, slapping Jimin’s hands away when he comes to squeeze at his shoulder and wrinkles his luxurious clothing. “I don’t know why I even bother.”   The God of Sea turns away, stomping and while Jimin smiles, it falls after a moment.    “Jungkook.”   “What?”   All traces of his mischief and lightheartedness have dissipated. What remains is a state of solemnness and urgency. “Do you know of anyone who lives in the mortal realm’s forests?” The two of them look at one another after Jungkook turns. “Someone who can make flowers bloom.”   The Great God of Water furrows his brows. “I don’t. Why?”   “No reason,” he murmurs.   It is difficult to find the answers to the numerous questions he has.    Jimin doesn’t want to ask Seokjin himself, certain that the god would never respond seriously and might just give him riddles that would make his mind want to melt. And inquiring from the Goddess of Wisdom, Yena, herself would simply arouse her curiosity.    Rumours would spread and he doesn’t want to risk putting you in danger if you were indeed a mortal. After all, relations between gods and mortals are looked down upon. It’s disgraceful. And the last thing that Jimin wants is for you to have to suffer the consequences, of having to face the council and have other gods meddle with your affairs. He would never be able to keep you right by his side as he desires…   The God of Wine finds himself seeking refuge to one of the most ancient gods — one that he knows would never chatter about his predicaments to others.   Jimin slams down the door of the cold palace, causing the God of the Moon to jolt where he’s asleep on his grand bed, blindfold on and blanket tucked to his chin. It’s too easy to disrupt him or to come and go as he pleases, especially when there’s not a single servant around to stop him from making such a rude entrance.   “You must be asking for death,” Yoongi mutters out of the corner of his mouth, voice husky and thick with slumber. He raises to slip off his blindfold and glares. One of the most composed gods in the universe is glowering at him with the intensity of death itself. “It is midday, Jimin.”   “Was just checking to see if you were lonely.” Jimin grins, waltzing in casually.   “I was asleep.” The God of Moon is nocturnal, sleeping during the day to lift the moon during the night. But in spite of his rest being disrupted, he sighs and loses tension in his form. The wise god knows it must be of importance to be suddenly awakened. “What do you want from me?”   “I want to give you an invitation to a party. I don’t have it on me now, but I just wanted to tell you that you’re invited.”   It goes quiet.   Yoongi stares, cat-like eyes in the colour of obsidian and he repeats himself. “What do you want from me?”   “Well, now that you say it like that, I feel kind of guilty for coming at such an inconvenient time…” Jimin lingers and then clears his throat. “I was wondering if you knew of someone who lives in a forest in the mortal realm.”   “There are many forest nymphs like that—”   The God of Wine shakes his head. “Someone who can make flowers bloom. Someone who can turn buds into full flowers and make it rain petals.” His fists clench in his lap as he remembers you and your heartbroken expression. “I keep thinking about it and...I can’t come up with a proper name for them.”   It is silent once more.    “Why?”   Jimin shrugs, feigning a smile. “Curious, that’s all.”   “I don’t know of such a person. I’ve never heard such tales.” Yoongi falls back down onto his bed and rolls over so his expression isn’t seen. He tugs his covers up over his shoulders and the God of Wine scoffs. But before he can leave, his calm voice calls out to him— “Spare yourself. Don’t wander where you shouldn’t, Jimin.”   “You know who she is?” Jimin halts at the darkened doorway. “Yoongi.”   There aren’t any answers.   Jimin leaves a bottle of wine on the God of Moon’s table anyhow as compensation for waking him so rudely. He knows full well that Yoongi won’t say any more than what he already has.   But that doesn’t stop Jimin’s frustration from swelling, feeling powerless when he is trying to find the answers to what he so desperately wants to know but having nowhere to turn.   Once outside, he turns to search the sky that’s painted over in a shade of bright azure without a cloud in sight. The rays are almost blinding, and with the reminder of Jungkook’s apprehension, Jimin goes to find a friend he has known well — a lonely goddess who lives on a lower part of Heaven. It’s a peaceful place without prying eyes, but with two servants who constantly fret over her.   The Goddess of the Sky greets him with her customary hug, eccentric as she is energetic. And the pair of them sit together on the patio of the garden house with a small table in between. They share drinks like they’ve done occasionally through the decades while silently sharing their sorrows.    Today, Jimin enjoys how the goddess has decorated the place with flowers blooming from their boxes as a slight breeze brushing through the leaves of the trees. The atmosphere reminds him of you and suddenly, the wine tastes bitter on his lips.   He calls the Goddess of Sky’s name.   “Hmm?”   “Do you know of anyone who has been trapped in the mortal realm’s forest?” He thinks of you and his heart aches. “Someone who lives in the meadow. Someone beautiful and kind who collects flowers in baskets, who makes petals rain from the sky, who makes flowers bloom.” Jimin speaks your name in a soft whisper like it is a prayer. “Do you know anyone like that?”   The Goddess of Sky’s head quirks and she doesn’t wonder why he asks. “There is only one goddess who can make flowers bloom.”   //   Jimin doesn’t care for keeping his promises.    Perhaps it is because he is fickle like many gods, or tricky. He has always liked to find loopholes after all and twist things the way he wanted them to be. Promises, after all, are merely words that hold little consequences.   But with you, Jimin has always kept his word.   He has no desire to lose your trust, for you to wait for him and be disappointed. Everything he has said to you has been his vow. It has been the oath of a god.   So he visits you again, descending down to the forest, patiently awaiting underneath the peach blossom tree as he studies the trees that breathe and whisper his name, allowing you to know that he is here. And soon enough, you are humming and hopping down the path.   When his gaze meets yours, the biggest smile spreads into your cheeks, one infectious enough to make him laugh too. Then you’re running and he opens his arms, stumbling back as you leap into his embrace.   “I missed you so much!   “I said I would return, didn’t I?”   He is a fool, no less than a mortal man himself. He’s fallen in love with you without even knowing who you are.    Your arms wrap around his neck and you lean up to press a kiss against his smile. It makes Jimin’s grin widen while he tries to kiss you back and after a moment, as the flowers dance through the warm breeze, you take his hand. “Come on.”   Just for this second, he savours your warmth and softness of your hand.   But like all moments, they never last as long as one would like.   The two of you make it to the clearing, to your home. “Are you hungry? Thirsty? Would you like anything?”    “No.” Jimin pulls you back before you can run towards your baskets and he gazes at your features with softened eyes. “Actually, there’s something that I want to talk to you about, Y/N.”   “Oh?” You loll your head to your shoulder, pout at your lips. “What is it?”   The God of Wine braces himself. He squeezes your fingers that are laced together with his own. He inhales a breath, filling his lungs with the fresh air and his senses with the scent of the fertile soil around him. He listens to the rustle of the leaves, watching the way the wind tangles through your hair and silk clothing.   Jimin wants to bottle this moment to keep by his side, but he can’t. He can’t plead ignorance to what he knows now, can’t turn a blind eye like he wants.   “I know who you are.” The words befall his lips in a murmur. His gaze locks with yours. Jimin calls your true name— “Goddess of the Spring.”   The wind whistles around him.   But the trees remain still. The verdant grass does not move. The flowers no longer sway.   The forest is at a standstill, frozen in time.   You are the Goddess of Birth, the Goddess of Flowers. You are the controller of the vernal equinox, of fertility of vegetation and of budding florals. You are the Goddess of Spring.   And you were in the council of fifteen before being exiled and banished from Heaven for your participation in the Great War — for fighting against Seokjin and the other gods. You’ve been forgotten and now trapped here as a punishment, forced to live amongst the mortals that you despise the most and forced to watch your beautiful creations die when the seasons end into the cold and frost.   Jimin knows how much you hate humans; how much you detest them for tricking you, taking advantage of Spring and killing everything that you love. He knows how you often lure humans here to kill them — that underneath this forest floor is a layer of blood and bones — that you were probably going to kill him too until he revealed that he was a god. And he knows how you haven’t been reborn since that time, since over a hundred years ago and you’re still holding onto your resentments of the past.    “I’m right, aren’t I?”   Like a faint spot on his mind, Jimin can faintly recall you.   He remembers seeing you over a century ago, walking down the paths of Heaven, giggling with the other goddesses, always with flowers in your hair. He can barely remember the way his eyes used to stray towards you, not thinking much but merely how beautiful you are….   Your hand lets go of his.   You stumble back.   “It wasn’t my fault.”   Jimin remains still, staring into your eyes. The wind whistles around him as if calling his name.   “I was tricked,” you murmur and shake your head wildly. “I don’t deserve to be here. I...I’ve been by myself for so long.” Tears fill your eyes, droplets hanging off your lashes and you gaze at him. “Don’t leave me...don’t leave me….you...can’t leave…”   He doesn’t notice the way the branches grow, twisting towards him until they’ve wrapped around his wrists and ankles. Jimin sharply inhales, fighting against the pulling binds and trying to break them apart. But the thorny vines from the rose bushes grow, capturing his limbs. “Y/N! I won’t leave!”   “You lie to me!” You shriek and the tornado of petals surrounds him in a storm. “Everyone lies to me!”   “I haven’t,” the God of Wine spits while struggling against the shackles that hold him up.   Jimin knows — you were manipulating him, trying to use him for escape, using him to find a way to leave. And even though it hurts, he didn’t care for a second when he found out.   “I’ve given you everything you wanted!” you scream and the forests darken, creeping towards him. “I let you abandon me twice! Leave me here waiting for you to return! And now that you know….you’re going to leave me here forever!”   The thorns sink into his skin, branches tightening around his flesh.    Jimin gives up. He stops fighting. Instead, he chooses to gaze into your eyes tenderly.    “I love you.”   “Liar!” you cry out, sobbing as a great tremor breaks through you, tears rushing down your cheeks and the flowers around you begin to wither away.   “I don’t care who you are. I don’t care what you’ve done,” he says, heart aching as he watches you succumb to your derangement, having been trapped in this one place for a hundred years by your lonesome. “I want to be with you, I want you by my side.”   “All the gods have ever done was lie to me.” You shake your head and crumble to the ground. Your hands lift to cover your ears as if you don’t want to hear his sweet words any longer for fear of being deceived. “All they’ve done is taken advantage of me, trapping me from one place to the next!”   Jimin’s unable to escape and you’ve broken down in front of him.   He stares at you while he becomes enveloped in branches and vines, much like how you’ve killed other young men. But he is not a mere mortal.   A haze erupts from the God of Wine. It’s a smothering spell that sweeps across the meadow, making it hard to think. And it creates an intoxicating atmosphere of pleasure as if you had bathed in wine. It steals your sobriety, making you drunk and incapable of thought.   Through the gaps between the branches, Jimin can see tension leave you. He can see the way your form softens, your hands dropping from cupping your ears and the forest lights again. The grass and leaves become verdant, flowers standing upright, the animals peeking out from their hiding places.    He’s impaired your wrath, made you inebriate from your anguish of isolation and imprisonment.   And he frees himself from the vines and branches.   “J-Jimin…?” you call out to him gently, words slurring and eyes narrowed as if you cannot see.   He thickens the haze, keeping you in place — into yet another prison — cloaking you away from reality.   “I will come back. I’ll figure out a way to free you, I promise.” With the God of Wine’s oath made, he vanishes.   //   The palace of the Sun has always been the grandest of all of Heaven. It faces west so that when the sun rises, it lifts behind the towers and illuminates the hundred marble steps leading up to it. It is deserving that the place Seokjin resides in is the most impressive — after all, he is the ruler of all rulers, the god of all gods, and somehow manages to keep the peace between the most prideful and self-interested deities. It is a task that most would be unable to do.   But on this occasion, Jimin cannot muster forth his respect or come quietly into the palace as he often does.   “Your Highness!” There is a sea of servants chasing after him, the God of Sun’s advisors floundering at his feet as he marches through the corridor, ripping open every door. “Please!”   “Where is he?!”   “Who dares make such a ruckus in my home?!” There is a booming voice that resonates across the sky and when Jimin whirls over, he finds Seokjin staring down at the yellow room from his place on the upper terrace. His many servants jolt and lower their heads immediately, moving aside as he walks down the stairs, glorious robes brushing against the tiled floor.   Seokjin sighs, anger quickly fading at discovering the God of Wine. “Is there something wrong, Jimin?”   “You trapped her there, didn’t you?” he asks, brows furrowed and expression crumpled in sorrow.   The God of Sun inhales a deep breath and turns to where his servants are. He waves them off with his hand and they deepen their bow before scattering away. Once alone, Seokjin returns his attention onto the god. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that if you want me to know what you’re talking about.”   “The Goddess of Spring.” Jimin speaks your name, looking up at Seokjin for an explanation.   It goes silent and Seokjin places his arms behind his back, slowly walking towards the open arch window of the room where the silhouettes of temples and homes in Heaven can be seen. Jimin follows him, eyes pinned on his profile.   “How long have you been seeing her?”   “So it’s true.” Jimin doesn’t answer, knowing that Seokjin's question is the confirmation he needed. “You trapped her in that forest.”   “She is intelligent, Jimin. More than what she seems. She knows how to influence others,” the God of Sun murmurs and twists to look at him. The two gods’ eyes connect to one another’s. “But yes, it’s true. She fought against us in the Great War, caused chaos and devastation of Heaven and the mortal realm. But she showed me sincere remorse and because I pitied her, I gave her what she wanted. She wanted to be in her forest and in the mortal realm.”   “You trapped her,” Jimin argues.    Your biggest desire was granted to the greatest extreme.   You were brought to the human realm and forced to watch everything you love constantly live and die when the seasons end. Never to return to Heaven — never to leave the forest.   “It is her punishment,” Seokjin clarifies. “And she was treated with the most leniency.”   Jimin shakes his head, throat becoming clogged with grief for you. “How long do you intend to keep her there?”   “More than a century.” The bright sunlight casts on his face, causing his skin to glow. “Perhaps indefinitely.”   “Let her go,” he whispers, pleading.   “Jimin.”   “Free her.” The God of Wine pushes all dignity aside to beg. “Her isolation is driving her to madness and because she hasn’t been reborn, she is still holding onto resentments of the past. Her anger can’t fade.”   “Good,” Seokjin says, turning away from him. “She is our enemy, Jimin. This is supposed to be her punishment.”   “For more than a hundred years?”   “You do not remember what destruction she has caused.” The God of the Sun sighs. “Many gods wanted worse for her. And she has been exiled from Heaven. I cannot risk conflict when peace is still fragile.”   Seokjin snaps his neck around when Jimin suddenly drops. He looks down, finding the God of Wine on his knees. “She won’t hurt anyone anymore. I will swear to it.”   “How can you assure that?”   Jimin lifts his chin, gaze unwavering. “Allow her to be reborn with me. I will watch over her. We will start anew together.”   “You love her,” Seokjin mutters and exhales steadily. He shakes his head in disapproval. “Get up, Jimin. No god should get on their knees, not for another and not for me. She has manipulated your emotions into feeling this way. Your mind will clear with time.”   “It won’t,” he says with such certainty. And for a God like him to have such conviction, the God of the Sun is surprised. “Please, Seokjin. Give her a chance. If not for her, then for me.”   “I never took you for such a fool, Jimin. Get up before someone sees you.” On his command, Jimin wobbles upwards. “You must trust that my judgment is not wrong. I will free her someday but not now. Collect yourself and if you know what is good for you, then you will not see her anymore.”   Before the God of Wine can part his lips and make counters, beg and plead on his knees once again, the God of Sun has already strode away with his arms behind his back and his shoulders square, unwilling. Jimin is left staring at the god’s backside until it fades away from his sight.   And against Seokjin’s advice, he goes to see you again.   He can’t leave you behind. He won’t.    No matter what anyone says, no matter if you are using him and tricking his emotions to your advantage, he won’t abandon you. As foolish as it may be, his affections for you are unconditional.   Jimin steps through the thick haze, coughing at the atmosphere he had created and put in place. It is smoldering and suffocating, making it difficult to think. But because it is his own power, he is able to tread through it, past the trees of the forest and into the familiar clearing.   There he finds you, slumped on the ground where he had left you, muttering to yourself.   “Y/N?”   “J-Jimin?” Your eyes narrow, unable to see him and your words slur as if intoxicated. The force of pleasure has rendered you incapable of much thought or movement. “You’re back?”    He lowers himself down, tears threatened at his lashes as his gaze sets upon you. Jimin reaches out and embraces your body, your head against his chest. “I’m here.”   “I...I can’t feel...my hands,” you blubber, panic leaking into your voice with the shreds of your sanity fleeting. “Help...he..lp.”   He has imprisoned you — to keep you from your anger, to keep you from hurting him and yourself. The God of Wine has done the one thing he swore to liberate you from. “I’m sorry. I...I’m sorry.”   Jimin is powerless.   He cannot free you from this forest. He can’t free you from your isolation and madness.   “I’m sorry.” He holds you against him as you drunkenly sob into his shoulder.   The meadow is serene, but when you begin to scream, he wraps his arms around you tighter.

The celebration marking a hundred years of peace is planned and thrown successfully with all the gods invited to commemorate. Jimin is diligent, more so than usual, having personally handed out each invitation and ensuring that Seokjin would be satisfied — he is, but never brings up the Goddess of Spring again in spite of how hard Jimin earnestly tries.   Time passes as Jimin continues to throw parties and celebrations, drinking wine with the gods above, expediting the pleasure that they can indulge in. But it’s not the same.    And the God of Wine never stops seeing you.   Each time he has a moment to spare, each time Spring begins and ends, he comes to be with you, cradling you in his arms and soothing your maddening worries.    “’m cold.”   You’re shivering against him, placed lifelessly in his lap with your forehead pressed to his cheek while his arms are secure around your shoulders. Winter has come and claimed all you have known and love. The branches of the trees are enveloped in frost, icicles hanging where petals once were. The meadow is blanketed in white, frigid snow making all that was living hiding away.   Your forest has turned into a frozen void, an eerie silence lingering where the violent blizzard was — it took all that you had created and nurtured over the year.   “I know.” Jimin pulls you closer.   “Everything’s dying…” you murmur, surrounded in the grave of once was. The flowers have withered and tears slip down your cheeks. The droplets aren’t of sorrow but anger and the God of Wine thicken the intoxicating haze to try to ease your mind.   “It’s okay…” He does what he can to console you over the loss, but he knows it does little.    Jimin is helpless and incapable.    But if he were stronger, if only his powers meant more…   You’re lulled to sleep in his embrace, breathing steadying. Jimin sighs, breath creating a cold cloud from his parted lips. And after a quiet moment, he hears the crunch of snow — it’s not made by an animal, but footsteps of another.    Jimin turns to discover the God of Sun walking through the field of snow, slow and cautious with his arms behind his back as his golden and white robes sweep against the ground.   “You never listened well, did you, Jimin.” Seokjin offers a soft smile and his fond eyes stray to you for a moment. It’s been a long time since he’s seen you. “Don’t let her wake up. If she sees me, she might just die in a fit of rage and make it worse for the both of us...”   “How did you know I was here?”   “I was looking for you and heard you didn’t return to Heaven. I knew there was no other place that you could be. I knew you ignored my warnings and continued to see her.”   “Are you going to take her away from me?” Jimin asks, fear and wariness rising in his voice.   But Seokjin calmly shakes his head.   “I’m going to stay with her, whether that means in Heaven or here,” Jimin declares while his arms around you become rigid, in case he’s torn apart from you.   “I know.” He nods. “I’ve never considered you so loyal and devoted, but it suits you well, Jimin. I am glad there are gods like you.”   Jimin sets you down on the blanket and you stir for a second before falling back into your slumber, chest rising and falling in a state of ignorant bliss. He gazes at you for a moment and then comes to face the God of Sun, trusting him enough that he won’t rip the two of you apart.   “You can’t protect her forever, even in this haze you’ve created,” he sighs and waves his hand around as if dispelling away a cloud. Seokjin is the only god unaffected by Jimin’s abilities. Yet he has never belittled his tricks and even now smiles.    Jimin doesn’t need to ask why he’s here. Seokjin tells him, “You can say I’ve had a change of heart. I’ve been thinking of what you’ve told me. I wouldn’t be a good ruler if I didn’t have mercy and compassion, right?”   The implication of his words sinks into Jimin and his breath catches into his throat.    “You’re….going to free her?”   “Justice has been served,” Seokjin says, looking around the forest, able to see how well it’s been taken care of even in the middle of the coldest season. “It’s not good to live in the past either. But I have conditions—”   The God of Wine is eager. “What conditions?”   “I will release her from her imprisonment and you both will be reborn as children for a fresh start.” Seokjin’s voice booms across the forest, resonating all around them as if he was making an oath. “A new lifetime if she can agree to put the past behind her. But you must watch over her, Jimin. It won’t be easy. Most of the gods won’t be happy about this arrangement. It will be an uphill battle to gain acceptance. So, you must guide and protect her. If the Goddess of Spring ever steps out of line or causes bloodshed or strife in Heaven, the fault will be both of yours to bear.” He pauses and the corner of his plush lips quirk, eyes lit with mirth. “Do you agree to this deal?”   Jimin answers through an embrace.   The God of Wine leaps up to hug the God of the Sun, causing the latter to stumble back and burst out into laughter, patting the former’s back awkwardly. “Alright, alright. Don’t forget who we are.”   “Thank you, Seokjin. Thank you…”   “I know.” He pulls him apart and grins. “But if it were not because I trust you, I would not so easily agree.”   The God of Sun’s hand falls on his shoulder, touch feather-light but squeezing comfortingly. He has an approving expression, mind put at ease knowing that you have someone like Jimin by your side. And it’s at this moment that Jimin knows his efforts were not futile. What he could not achieve with his powers, he countervailed with sincerity and truth.    No longer are you the trapped goddess punished for past wrongdoings.   You are the Goddess of Spring, companion of the God of Wine.

“Jimin!”   A squeaky giggle streams from your chest and he whirls around sulking. You pout at him, getting impatient with how long he’s taking. The sun wasn’t going to be up forever and you still wanted to play. “C’mon, slowpoke. What are you waiting for?”   “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he whines and runs to you, leaving the third jug of wine unfinished from brewing. He’s still not very fast at making it, but he knows he’ll learn. There’s still plenty of time.   Your hand opens, catching his and you laugh as your fingers interlace.   Heaven is noisier than it used to be.   The grandiose paradise of temples and homes of gods, etched with precious marble and gold, now has two rascals making mischief together. As headache-inducing as the pair of you are to the many gods that reside here, you’re still endearing as you are troublemakers. And with how you’ve filled every crevice of Heaven with beautiful flowers and Jimin supplies them wine, no god is ever angry for long—    Except that time you transformed Jungkook’s head of hair into a bed of moss; Jimin couldn’t help you much there. But he won’t ever let anyone bully you...unless it’s himself, of course.   “Are you sure this is okay?” you ask, quirking your head to one side as you watch him climb the fence into Seokjin’s garden.   “It’s okay.” Jimin gives a cheesy grin. “I know a secret hideout!”   Jimin still knows his way around Heaven, recalling vaguely from his past life where everything is. But for you, everything seems new and unfamiliar. It’s been a long time since you’ve been back to Heaven, Jimin knows, although he really enjoys the way you gander around with wide eyes as if you can’t believe this is your home now.   “Come on!”   Without hesitation, you take your best friend’s hand and he helps pull you to the other side.   The garden is wide and vast, verdant grass tall and luscious. The bushes and ground are full of buds placed perfectly in rows, petals nervously peeking out, still yet to fully open. Jimin’s been thinking about it for some time now, but he’s sure this is a place you would really love.   He looks around with a proud smile.   “What do you think?”   When there’s no answer, Jimin twirls around.   At the same time, a breeze brushes through his hair and he halts.   Your palms are pressed flush against the truck of the tree in the center of the garden. And as if you are calling onto the very soul of the tree, through the warm wind, peace blossoms begin to flutter down the tree like rain.   It entwines with your hair, seemingly wrapping your entire frame with the soft colour. The petals decorate your crown, getting caught in your light pink silks adorned on your body, hugging you. The aroma of the flowers surround him, not pungent but rather faint, like a whiff of fresh perfume passing by.   Giggles befall your lips, nose scrunching as the petals fall onto your cheeks, tickling you.    And Jimin smiles. His previous lifetime wasn’t wrong — you are indeed the most beautiful being he has ever seen or laid witness to.   “Like it?” you ask with a grin.    The flower rain was a gift and one he will always cherish.   Jimin smiles as he gazes at you. “I love it.”   And the flowers around him bloom.

Down, boy! || Eddie & Bea

TIMING: Current-ish

PARTIES: @beatrice-blaze​ & @specterchasing​

LOCATION: Illusions of Grandeur

SUMMARY: Eddie literally runs from his problems and Bea talks some sense into him.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Suicidal ideations tw, sibling death tw.

The shops and faces lining ‘Freak Alley’ flew by in colorful blurs as Eddie’s feet slapped against the sidewalk. An over-the-shoulder glance let him know that the hellhound he attracted at a nearby cemetery was gaining on him. Its size led him to believe he’d somehow lucked out and stumbled upon a runt, or perhaps a pup if hellhounds underwent adolescence. Eddie didn’t know and, in the moment, he frankly didn’t care; it could clearly still breathe fire.

Wicked heat kissed the soles of his shoes and Eddie’s next step became more of a leap. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck,” he chanted as he darted across the street. Panic set it, but it wasn’t the sole cause of Eddie’s heart beating at break-kneck speed. A laugh erupted from his chest. He liked the threat of imminent danger. No thrill on earth matched the anxious euphoria of knowing his next breath might be his last. A hellhound would make for an interesting obituary, at least, even if the local paper reduced it to an errant wolf.

Eddie skidded to a halt in front of a building, he didn’t bother to stop and read any signage that might tell him the name of his safe haven. His hand gripped the door and  flung it open. Once inside, he pressed his back against the entrance to hopefully stop the hellhound from entering with force. Unfortunately, the dimwitted beast didn’t get the memo that it wasn’t welcome and launched its body against the door with considerable vigor once, twice…

Members of the crowd turned their heads toward the commotion. Apparently, Eddie was interrupting some kind of show. His eyes snapped to the stage, landing on an unexpectedly familiar face. “Nell’s sister? I thought she was in—” 

Three times.

Eddie’s thoughts were interrupted when the impact of the hellhound's small, but dense, body threw the door open. The force sent him forward and into the crowd, albeit face-down on the floor. Eddie scrambled to his feet as a few of the crowd members shrieked at the sudden introduction of a wild beast. Chaos ensued as people scattered in search of an emergency exit. Eddie whipped around in time to see flames billowing from the dog’s mouth. A few seats, recently abandoned, caught fire.

In an attempt to rectify his mistake, Eddie bolted in the direction of a fire extinguisher. A moment later, the sprinkler system kicked on, drenching everyone in sight. Eddie marched closer to the hellhound and attacked it with a stream of white froth. “Fuck off!” he commanded as the beast caught a mouthful of foul chemicals. It reared back, whining as its head thrashed from side to side. But Eddie’s bright idea didn’t deter it for long. The hound stumbled forward and prepared for another attack.

Freedom was a nasty concept to Beatrice. As a child, picking flowers and stealing moments with Leah was freedom. Teenaged Bea had found parties she snuck out to were freedom. Before she died, freedom had been her secrets, she had held freedom in clenched hands, hidden from her coven and family. Now, she had died and come back, her secrets revealed and discovered. Her freedom was not her secrets any longer, so what was it? 

She had thought the stage was freedom until death and rebirth. It became a cage, a spectacle that could be used to see how different she had become. Deciding to reclaim it, to allow everyone to see who she was now, that tasted like an early summer morning. It had the stillness before a busy day, it had a moment of peace in it. It tasted like the beginnings of freedom, a taste she had begun to remember and enjoy in New York. 

It did not taste like smoke, a flavor that had snuck into her mouth as she performed. Smoke had no place in her show now, not now that she couldn’t control the flames. Her element was no longer fire and smoke was no longer a flavor she could feel safe tasting. She was off the stage and stalking forward to the Hellhound as people rushed out of the theater. 

She recognized the man in front of the hellhound vaguely, though she had no idea how. He was trying to smother the beast with a fire extinguisher and Bea couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Of course this is how her first performance since Adam would be. 

Her shadows leapt out, tightening around the beast mouth, clamping it shut as others worked around it’s paws. “What the hell were you thinking bringing this into my business?” She’d have to call Nell to help her with this.

Eddie watched in startled wonderment as shadows turned themselves into shackles around the hellhound’s paws. A muzzle of the same making wrapped around its jaws while it struggled against its newfound restraints. Smoke seeped out of the muzzle, but the fire was contained for the time being. Magic, he figured. Not cheap illusions, but actual magic. 

He jumped at the sound of Beatrice’s voice demanding his attention.  Eddie already felt guilty before she spoke, now the feeling consumed him. He turned to face her with an apologetic expression. As far as he could tell, they were the only two people remaining inside the venue. No one would be around to see him be reprimanded, at least.

“It chased me,” Eddie explained with a helpless shrug. “What was I supposed to do, die in the street?” For someone who wanted to say he was sorry, the words didn’t come to him. He hated that about himself, the way he instinctively took a defensive stance when he felt cornered. 

The crashing realization that Nell might still be too ill to handle this hit Bea hard and fast. It was like a softball to the stomach as she remembered how grief could hurt a person’s magic, Nell could struggle to control this Hellhound and who was Bea to ask her sister to try to after everything happened? She would have to attempt to deal with herself and if it was too much, then she would call Nell.

The face of an apology with defense on their lips was something Bea was intimately familiar with. She had been that way, she occasionally was still that way, and while the familiarity softened her, a scowl had already found its way onto her face. “That is not at all what I said or implied.” Her arm swung out behind her, “This is the place you decided to run in. Did you see how many people were in here? What would the plan have been if I wasn’t here? Let the people here burn and hope for the best?” She didn’t know this man, but that didn’t stop her scolding tone. “How did you even get chased by a Hellhound?”

With each question Bea asked him, Eddie’s guilt worsened. He never meant to hurt anyone, but he seemed to be paving the road to hell with his good intentions as of late. Regardless of what he did, it usually turned out to be a wrong move. For the moment, he elected to put his pity party on the back-burner. Bea didn’t know him and she likely wouldn’t harbor much sympathy for a grown man who nearly cost dozens of innocent people their lives. For that, he couldn’t blame her.

“I was, uh, at the cemetery down the road apiece,” he answered her most recent question, pointing his thumb in the direction he came from. “It was just kinda hanging out and didn’t like that I was too.” Eddie failed to mention that he tried to film it, and that he whistled for its attention in an attempt to get a clear shot of its face. The camera he used wound up as a substitute chew toy after it slipped out of his hand mid-sprint. 

“I tried to hold the doors shut,” he ventured. “If you weren’t here, I—” Eddie’s gaze fell to the fire extinguisher in his hand. What a joke. “Yeah, I probably would’ve been the reason someone died tonight.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he looked at Bea again. “Thanks for not letting that happen.”

A noise of frustration left Bea’s nose as she turned back to the Hellhound in front of her. Nell had a soft spot for them, it would be wrong if she just called Kaden here to kill it. It was a monster that could kill people, but her littlest sister liked them. It would hurt her to know Bea killed it without an attempt at some humane solution. She wasn’t particularly sure how to be humane to a monster, but she would figure it out. 

“Are you new to this whole thing?” Bea asked tiredly. He had to be around Adam’s age, but he had none of the experience that had let Adam survive as long as he did from what she could see. Not that had done much in the end, had it? He was still gone. “Sometimes when you see something like this the best thing to do is give it space or call someone who is trained to take care of things like this.” The hunters she trusted in this town were struggling to survive or gone. 

Bea leaned against the back of the seats nearest her, her exhaustion hitting her all at once. “There won’t always be someone like me there. What will you do then?” How will you survive? 

Bea seemed to be at the end of her rope, and a sneaking suspicion told Eddie he wasn’t the sole cause of her weariness. He thought about Nell and the contagiousness of grief. All at once, he became less concerned with self-pity. Compared to the Vurals, he had it easy. Eddie wished he could share that with them instead of dragging Bea down with his inability to make good decisions. He kept saying he would start being better for the people around him, when did he plan on actually doing it?

“No, I’m not new to this,” he answered truthfully. Whatever he said to Bea had a chance to get back to Nell. Eddie couldn’t afford to lie to her even if the lie was easier to hear than the truth. “Tonight just sucked.” 

He considered her next question carefully. “I used to know.” Again, Eddie chose honesty. Until recently, he didn’t care what happened to him in situations like what happened tonight. Live or die, it didn’t matter. Part of him, and it was a big part, still felt that way, but now people cared about him. That made things murkier. “I guess I’d die if that happened.” Despite his inner turmoil, he sounded shockingly nonchalant. “I’m trying not to be okay with that.”

For a moment, Bea almost laughed. Waves of optimism had carried her afloat that last few days, but now she felt the current shifting beneath her feet. There were only so many times she would claim that things would get better. She was exhausting herself carrying everyone else’s hope on her back, but she had tried it the other way before. She had seen what it made her and she refused to go back to that. 

“You should know that you shouldn’t be doing stuff in this town alone, then.” Adam should have known, they should have forced him to take someone. Bea shook her head, trying to lose the ‘what if’ questions that did nothing but worsen her guilt. 

Bea’s eyes snapped toward him, her exhaustion shoved away by the fire that entered her. She pushed herself away from the chairs, taking a step toward him. “Death doesn’t just affect you,” She whispered fervently. “When you die, you change something in everyone around you. They will never get back to who they were.”

Bea had a point, Eddie realized that. White Crest sunk its teeth into anyone who dared underestimate how brutal it could be. Anyone except him, it seemed. For all his recklessness, he couldn’t get the town to live up to its reputation. Death didn’t want him back. “Yeah,” he quietly replied as his gaze fell to the floor. 

Nex thing he knew, Bea seemed more vibrant than before. As she moved closer, he couldn’t tell if that was a good thing. Eddie glanced at the hellhound’s shadow-made shackles before locking eyes with her. Bea’s warning shook him. The part about his death affecting more than just him sounded a lot like similar words of caution given to him by both Nell and Morgan. But the rest, no one had ever phrased it like that before.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Eddie said firmly. “But I don’t wanna hurt either.” He knew how selfish he sounded. For years, he relied on that selfishness when no one else bothered to prioritize him. “And no one can seem to tell me how to manage both.” 

“Everyone thinks I’m perfectly content not caring whether I live or die, and I guess I can’t blame them. I even put on a good enough act to fool myself sometimes, but it’s bullshit.” His throat tightened as the truth poured out of him. “I hate feeling this way. All it does is make me miserable and piss everyone else off, which is kind of exhausting.” Eddie let out a mirthless laugh. “I’m bleeding out and everyone around me is yelling about how I’m staining the carpet.” He choked back the tears trying to form in his eyes. 

“No one can tell you, because you can’t.” Bea’s voice shook as she said it. There was no reason for her to lay things out for this man, yet here she was, because someone had to. “We hurt people, they hurt us, and we hurt ourselves.” She had been hurt by countless people, she had hurt countless people, and she had hurt herself. “It doesn’t make us bad people if we can learn from it.” She swallowed, “It makes us better if we learn how to forgive ourselves for the things we do.”

Bea closed her eyes for a moment, letting out a breath. That feeling he was talking about was something she understood well. “Sometimes people don’t know how to fix your bleeding, so they find something else to focus on. Blaming you isn’t fair, but it’s how they cope.” How many people have felt like this around here? How many people did she not see or help? “I think you might want to go to therapy, if you aren’t already,” She said with a shrug. “It can help. I go sometimes.” She went a lot in New York. She still went at least once a week, when the flashbacks were bad, she went twice. 

Nothing Bea said relieved Eddie of the ache in his chest, but he appreciated that she said it anyway. He was beginning to learn that, try as he might, he would never find a mystical cure for the pain of living. But, if he listened, he might learn how to cope with it. He forgave others easily, but turning that kindness inwards proved more difficult. “Does that… get easier with practice?” he asked.

For the past ten years, Eddie had been going to therapy. When Bea offered it as a suggestion, he nodded solemnly. “Yeah, it makes things a little easier.” But he couldn’t be completely honest with any of the professionals he’d seen, not about seeing ghosts or anything else related to the supernatural. It felt like wearing a muzzle. When they asked about his YouTube channel, he told them it was purely for entertainment. They were always impressed by the special effects.

“Anyway,” he said, forcing himself to shift gears. “Didn’t mean to, like, trauma dump or whatever” He never did, but it was becoming harder to keep it to himself. “Is there… anything I can do to help out around here? With the mess, I mean.”

“Yeah, it does.” Bea wished there was a way to prepare people for the life that White Crest was leading them down, but there wasn’t. All you could do was tell people the truth and pick them back up when they fell. “It’s like any skill though, we all mess up eventually and you’re going to kick yourself for it. Sometimes things are going to happen and you won’t even be able to remember how to do it, but it’ll come back. It always does.” 

There was a part of Bea who knew she shouldn’t be allowing herself to take someone else on, but here she was pulling someone else’s hope onto her back. Someone had to keep it safe and until they were able to, she would nurture it and treat it as though it was her own. Maybe this was her fatal flaw, the thing that would put her in the ground permanently, but until it proved as dangerous as it felt, she would flirt with it.

“Yep,” Bea grinned at him, nodding at the storage closet. “Go grab a broom. I’m going to call my sister to figure out what to do with this beastie and then I’m going to call my crew to help.” She went to walk away before pausing and looking over her shoulder, “Some days there will be too much to keep in, find people who can handle you at your worst and learn to help them too. Those people will always be with you, as long as you love them as much as they love you.”

Investor Presentation

Summary: Virgil has dreaded meeting his soulmate because of how much fear they must feel from him, and today is going to be worse than usual because he’s got to present in front of the investors of the company he works for. It doesn’t help when small things keep going wrong.

Warnings: panic attack

/\/\

Virgil dreaded meeting his soulmate. He'd always dreaded it, certain that whomever they were must be fed up and worn out of having all his fears dancing through them constantly. He's scared of yelling, of crowds, of doing presentations, of so many things and worries about even more so the emotions he shares with his soulmate could only be annoying or upsetting to them.

Back when he was in school the only way Virgil could ever make friends or get through group projects was convincing himself as much as he could that it was reversed. That his emotions were the confidence, the simmering anger and flooding excitement that bubbled in the back of his head while the fear and need to escape that took over his senses actually belonged to his soulmate. The belief would never last for long, but imagining it helped at least. It got him through the interviews for his current job even.

Hopefully Virgil would be able to convince himself the emotions were the wrong way around today too. He needed all the confidence and energy he could to manage the presentation this afternoon. When his team leader had asked that he do it, Virgil had thought it would be fine, but with every thing he'd learnt since then his fear that this would be what got him fired had grown. After all, it was a presentation for the company investors to explain what their team did and how a new system would change their roles, both the predicted positives and his concerns for the functionality that might be lost while adapting to it.

Virgil knew it all perfectly and was completely confident in that, and not at all wanting to hide in the supply cupboard until the meeting would have been cancelled.

/Over to a Company Investor\

Remus was excited today. He'd only recently thought that perhaps he could try his hand at investing, and of course followed that by putting all his available funds into the first company that caught his interest and was open for investors. He hadn't thought that came with attending meeting and having a say in what happened but couldn't be more thrilled to join in.

Besides this company specialised in comfort items and stim toys so maybe whenever Remus found his soulmate he could help them. He could comfort them from whatever has them so scared so constantly through their life.

That was Remus's hope at least.

“Hello, can you just sign in here, and I'll lead you through to the meeting room the investors are all gathering in.” The man who'd opened the door was already carrying a thick folder alongside his laptop so just nodded towards the sign in desk.

Remus followed him through curiously, wondering if anyone would actually check the sign in sheet. He never included the right contact details on the sheet and sometimes got rather interesting responses when it was realised. Part of his mind was also distracted by growing nerves coming from his soulmate and the concentration on lying to themself. He'd wondered for a while what that lie was.

While thinking that he'd been led to a large meeting room that his guide was now holding the door open to. “I've been told you're the last of our investors to arrive so I'll leave you a while to get a drink and get settled before the meeting starts.” The man nodded, but placed the folder and laptop down near the front of the room before disappearing out of a side door quickly.

“And you must be Remus Nastys. I'm the manager of the company, Oliver Leband. Please have a seat or get a drink and some of the cakes we've provided for the meeting. Did Virgil introduce himself while bringing you through?” A relaxed man in a suit quickly came over, holding out a hand to shake although he blinked and immediately tried pulling it back when Remus essentially threw their arms up and down rapidly.

“Was that who the fellow was? He seemed to have rather a lot to carry and distracting him.” Remus glanced back towards the door Virgil had disappeared through. He didn't care for introductions either, if someone didn't want to introduce themself it just gave him more opportunities for nicknames.

Oliver nodded, “Yes, once of the best analysts we have. He's very thorough and was asked to give today's presentation.” He explained. “This will be your first investors meeting so can I ask what drew you to the company?”

“The products.” Remus readily replied, now hurrying away towards the cake, but certain he was being followed. The manager had that energy of learning everything he could about people's motives. “My soulmate seems to be anxious or scared a lot of the time, and I thought if I had stock in a company like this maybe I can help them whenever we meet.”

“A noble decision and one I'm sure plenty of my staff would agree with. Here we employ a lot of people who use stim toys and comfort objects to get them through the day, and often they've expressed additional pride in making the products more accessible for the people who need them.” Remus tuned out then, ignoring the clearly often repeated pitch in favour of getting a sliver of everything on the table onto his plate. It would be ungodly sweet which sounded perfect if everyone in this meeting was going to be so money focused.

Before Remus could confirm that by talking to anyone else a shot of anxiety almost enough to pause his breathing came from his soulmate and the door opened as Virgil came back in.

“Good Afternoon our esteemed investors and the leaders of our company. Welcome to today's meeting. Please allow me a few moments to ensure the technology is set up correctly for our presentation.” Virgil's confidence felt like a lie to Remus but he couldn't figure out how. It looked almost identical to how he felt when confident, minus the too wide for people to be comfortable smile.

With the meeting soon to be beginning Remus was free to watch as the smile Virgil had wore while introducing fell at the knot of wires he found while trying to link the laptop to the projector. The was another spike of anxiety at that point too and Remus was one step away from declaring them soulmates and stepping in. Over the years he'd learnt to wait for multiple evidences since declaring soulmates on the first had just caused a lot of arguments with people he'd only recently met.

Eventually though Virgil got the projector set up and working without any more emotional changes noticeably coming from either him or Remus's soulmate so there wouldn't be any interruption from Remus just yet.

“Good Afternoon Everyone. I welcome you to our offices. I am Virgil Fry, one of the product analysts of the company. Today I've been asked to give you all a presentation on the new programme that's being brought in for my team, along with the benefits it has for our-” Everything fell silent as not only the projector turned off but all the lights in the room as well. There were still large windows covering one wall so it was still pretty bright in there.

Remus watched as Virgil collapsed behind the desk, clearly panicking at the same time time the feelings from his soulmate went into panic attack levels. He'd had to describe the feelings multiple times to understand that was likely what was happening but was thankful he had.

Now that meant he could move around the table while Oliver checked on the other investors and kept the room calm to Virgil's side.

“Yo, can you breathe for me?” He asked, reaching out with one hand but pulling his arm back as soon as the other flinched and shook his head. “Okay, that's fine. How about you tell me 5 things you can feel?” It was one of the grounding exercises Remus had managed to memorise by imagining all the weird or specific answers you could give that would confuse people into being quiet.

“The certainty that I'm going to get fired for this mess up as soon as Oliver turns around.” Virgil muttered, head hidden in his knees.

“I doubt he's going to fire someone who's likely the soulmate of an investor, but that's a good start. Come on, 4 more things you can feel?” Remus commented when nothing more was added.

The comment had Virgil's eyes shooting up to look at him and hitting his head on the desk in the move. “Um, definitely feel the desk just there and the legs are digging into my back at a weird angle. That's 2 more right?” He mumbled.

“So 2 more things you can feel and then you can decide if we're finishing this grounding technique.” Remus encouraged, but reached out to start checking his head for any bumps automatically.

“The fingers of a random investor in my hair? And my nails digging into my knees. Why are you trying to help me?” Virgil wasn't moving away from the touch so Remus took it as permission to carry on while shrugging.

He grinned, meeting the presentors eyes for a moment. “Well when I've literally been able to match the emotions from my soulmate to your reactions since you came back in, I'm kind of going with, we're soulmates and I wanna look after you. Currently torn between stealing that folder to take over the presentation for you or claiming the soulmate rights to take you home so we can talk for longer.”

For a moment it looked like Virgil was going to argue before he paused. Instead a hand reached out and Remus thought he was about to get a hug, perking up a little, only to get shoved backwards. As he blinked up in complete shock he felt humour make it's way through the anxiety at the back of his head.

“Well my soulmate felt shocked at the same time so yeah, I think I can believe we're soulmates, but you're not doing either of those things. We're getting the emergency generator on and then figuring out what Oliver wants to do with this disruption.” Virgil didn't give time for him to respond, already jumping up and heading out from the desk.

When Remus got up to follow him, Virgil was already muttering to his manager in one corner, getting a nod before grabbing Remus's hand and leaving the room. “So we're likely soulmates and you're taller than me. That means you're flipping the switch on the generator. Oliver is going to reschedule the meeting now since I can't be away from the team, especially if work has been lost with this power cut. He's given permission for you to stick around and learn more about how I work for today.”

Remus could only nod along, feeling the nerves behind Virgil trying to make the decisions for the day, and fear he guessed was over how he might react to it. “Sounds like fun. Can I even have a go at doing it for you?”

“Literally only if you're prepared for me to correct you the second you do something other than the bits I show you.” Virgil cautioned, but at least seemed calmer than before now.

It wasn't as safe as Remus was hoping to make his soulmate feel, but calmer he could work with for now.

Lovely Boys [Chapter Three]

Summary: Janus and Logan are both in love with Remus, it’s just a matter of who can convince Remus of their feelings first. 

Trigger warnings: NSFW, real hardcore insecurity, not the healthiest habits, rough sex, being caught (kind of, they’re not walked in on), mention of abusive and negligent past exes who neglected proper BDSM rules, some very rude degrading self talk, sl*t as an endearing term, pretty heavy pet play, Janus is a brat 

Genre: Hurt/Comfort smut (Sub Remus, dom Logan, switch Janus), intruloceit 

Written by: Virgil & Claire

Edited by: Virgil 

A/N: One more after this! It’s more of an epilogue. <3 Also! I’ve been having trouble with read mores lately, so pls lmk if it doesn’t show up ~Virgil 

Remus’ hand was warm and soft in Janus’, and completely restless. Remus bounced excitedly. Janus was… In a sort of daze, not quite caught up with reality. 

"Remus wanted to make a stop on the way, but…” Logan glanced over his shoulder at them. “If we're adding J, maybe a postpone on the collar, pet?"

He pouted. “O-okay…” 

“Why postpone the collar?” Janus held Remus closer. 

"You're okay with getting a collar for him, some toys? I didn't want to assume, but…" Logan nibbled his lips. Both of you in collars… Hands bound and waiting orders~ 

“Well, I certainly don’t like this look on his face.” Janus tapped Remus’ nose. “You want your collar tonight?”

Remus nodded sheepishly. “If that’s okay.”

"Very true…" Cupping Remus' face, he smiled. "If my pup wants a collar, a collar he shall have… Kiss?" 

Remus kissed him excitedly, and pulled away quickly to throw open the door. “C’mon, c’mon, can we go?”

Chuckling, he nodded, offering Janus his arm. "Shall we, dear? The pup is anxious to go…"

Janus took his arm with a little, embarrassed nod. “Yes, I’m ready.”

"Good boy…" Patting the hand on his arm, he followed Remus out, offering the other hand to him. 

Remus took his hand as Janus spluttered a bit, blushing. “That is not…”

Grinning, Logan winked. "Shhh… It's okay, J!" 

Janus scowled and climbed into the backseat, letting Remus take the front. 

Bending to steal a kiss, Logan sighed. "Janus… Did I say something wrong, dear?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged.

"I'm sorry…. How can I make it right?" Tapping the steering wheel, he sighed.  I want you both happy, Janus.

“He’s just being a drama brat,” Remus giggled, “isn’t that right, Jan-Jan?”

“Fuck off,” he grumbled, face pink. 

"Oh… You scared me a moment, Janus!!" A soft smile breaking, he sighed. "I don't want to lose either of my precious boys!"

They both blushed bright red, Remus squealing and kissing Logan’s knuckles, Janus scowling and looking out the window. 

Turning to driving, he stroked Remus gently. "Should we get him something pretty too, Rem? You're getting a collar…"

“Yeah!” Remus turned back to grin at Janus, and Janus couldn’t help but return it. “You deserve something pretty, too, Jan!”

"Both of you pick whatever you want, okay? No kink shaming… Just love!" Grinning happily, he hummed as they made their way to the shop, parking the car.

“Yes, sir!” Remus giggled and grabbed Janus’ hand as they walked into the store. 

Walking behind them, Logan grinned, coming up to take Janus' other hand. "Stay close to one of us at all times, my pup… I don't want to lose either of you."

“Good luck keeping him from wandering,” Janus chuckled. He reached out and grabbed Remus’ shirt as he got distracted by something, pulling Remus back to the group.

"Collar and leash set will certainly help…" Reaching out, he took Remus' hand.  

Remus flushed deep red and glanced back at him. “Yeah?”

Janus shifted awkwardly and grinned. “What, do you like that idea, little pup?” Janus wasn’t actually surprised. He’d seen plenty of Remus’ magazines spread around the apartment. 

"I think he likes the idea of someone else holding the reins… Would you heel for me if requested? Should we train you to commands~?" Stroking Remus' cheek, he kissed him softly.

Remus moaned softly, kissing him back. Janus tugged on the back of his shirt. “Let’s go look at the leashes,” he said eagerly. 

One arm around Remus, Logan nodded, leading them over. "Indeed… Perhaps one for each of us? He can choose who he wants to guide him at that time?"

“God, you really do have money, huh?” Janus rubbed down Remus’ back. “Go on, go crazy.” 

Remus wasted no time in obeying, rushing over to the selection and trying each of them. 

Logan nodded as he watched. "I have quite enough to support all three of us, yes. What do you want, Janus?"

“I’m okay,” he said instantly. “I don’t need anything.”

Gently taking Janus by the chin, Logan hummed. "Tell me, baby? You've been so good… Let daddy get you a treat?"

Janus flushed deep red and looked away. He forced a little scoff. “Don’t patronize me. What happened to thinking I was too dominant for you?” 

He pulled Janus into his arms, holding him gently. "The way you seem to want to melt into my arms and be protected… It makes me want to cuddle and protect you, give you everything that I can."

Janus hated that he said that, only because Janus did exactly that: Melt into his arms, nuzzle into his neck, all without his own permission. 

“I’m not a sub,” he grumbled, but it wasn’t all too convincing. “You can try to collar me, but it won’t be easy.” 

"I don't want to collar you, love… Remus needs it, the structure. You, you're a precious jewel because you want support but not control. We share~" Kissing his cheek, he hummed. 

Janus shuddered. “I don’t need anything,” he mumbled. 

“Janny! Look!” Remus bounded forward with two collars in hand and thrusted them out. “This one has spikes!” 

Chuckling, Logan released Janus to let him coo over Remus, smiling. "Perhaps a dinner or just cuddling then, but do tell me if something does catch your eye, dear? Remus… Do you want them both, hun?"

He nodded excitedly. “This one for Janus!” He held up the spiked one, and the thrusted a soft velvet one in Logan’s direction. “And this one for you!” He practically vibrated with excitement as he whirled on Janus. “Which one are you getting?” 

Janus faltered. “Uh…” 

"He's getting the one that speaks to him, pet.. and that might not be in this shop." Stroking Remus, he smiled. "Which do you want, little one?"

Remus glanced between the two of them, and then decided his attention fully on Janus. “You’re not getting a collar?” He whined. 

Janus hesitated. Remus stared up at him with wide, sad eyes. “Of course I’m getting a collar. Just waiting for Master here to pick one out.” 

Remus immediately brightened up and put his in the basket, then rushed off to explore more.

Logan watched a moment before turning to Janus. "Do you want me to choose or are you just putting him off, lovely?"

“Just pick a collar,” he huffed. 

Sliding an arm around Janus, he smiled, taking him to the faux leather section and picking up a black collar with a snake scale look and gold buckles. "I'd love to see you in this, baby~"

Janus blushed as he looked at the collar. “That looks pretty sick,” he mumbled. 

"Classy and wild, just like you!" Stroking a thumb down Janus' cheek, he smiled, setting it in the basket.

“We should find Remus. Who knows what chaos he’s gotten himself into without supervision.” Janus looked away, but Logan didn’t miss the way he leaned into his touch. 

Grinning, he nodded. "Of course, sweetheart… He was headed towards the paddles and crops."

Janus rolled his eyes with a fond laugh. “Of course he was.” 

They found him staring at what may have been the most… Extra paddle Janus and Logan had ever seen in their lives. It looked like it could cause some real damage. 

“Remus,” Janus said in concern, “have you ever actually engaged in pain play before?”

Remus looked at them with a blush and nodded. “Yeah!”

Janus crossed his arms over his chest, remembering Remus had never had aftercare before Logan. “Your partner hitting you in the middle of sex without negotiation first isn’t pain play.”

Remus’ smile faltered, just a bit. “Oh. Well, then no, not technically.” 

Humming, Logan gave Remus a squeeze. "We can talk about what you like, okay, darling? Things like this can actually damage you if you're not careful, and you deserve to be safe even if you want a little hurt with the pleasure."

Remus frowned in confusion. “Damage… Isn’t that the point?” 

Janus dragged his hands down his face and sucked in a breath. He peeked at Remus between his fingers, eyes narrowed and cold. “Do you still have your ex’s numbers in your phone? Their addresses?” 

Sighing, his hand clenching, Logan frowns. "Pup… The cornerstones of play are safe, sane, and consensual… That's why we talk, and consent is so important. Pain is okay only if you want it. Same goes for marks, restraints, all of it."

“But… I want whatever you want,” Remus mumbled. 

Janus grabbed Remus’ hand and tugged him away. “If you really want to try it, we’ll start with something small. And you have to swear you’ll safe word if you don’t like it. Got it?”

Remus kissed Janus on the corner of the mouth. “Okay!” 

Turning to the display, Logan hummed, testing a smaller paddle, trusting Janus to talk sense into the pup. "My lovely boy, it's good that you trust your partner, but we need you to give us feedback in both the good and bad, okay?"

Remus nuzzled into Janus’ neck, who held him like Remus was some sort of hurt angel. “Yes, sir.” 

“We don’t want to actually hurt you,” Janus murmured. “It would… It would break my heart if I put you through pain. Please don’t let us.”

Remus finally seemed to understand the gravity of the situation. He frowned and looked between the two, shrinking in on himself. “Okay. I won’t. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it wasn’t…” 

Hugging him gently, Logan nodded. "It's okay, baby. You didn't know… We're so glad that you're safe, and we want to keep it that way, okay?"

Janus hugged him from the other side. "You're a good boy."

Remus let out a little squeak and covered his face. “I’m not… Not a good boy,” he said, flustered. 

Logan nuzzled him. "We see you as a good boy, our sweet pup… Let us show you how good and lovely you are, honey?" 

Remus buried his red face in Logan’s neck. His legs were wobbly. “Nng…”

“Oh,” Janus smirked, “maybe we should finish up shopping before there’s a problem.” 

Laughing, Logan nodded. "Leash, pet bed… I'm thinking a tail and ear set and some padded socks for when he wants to be a four legged pup…"

Remus rubbed his legs together with a little whine. “Can I put the bed by your desk?” 

Janus ruffled Remus’ hair and kissed his cheek, tugging him towards the pet play section. 

"I'm thinking one by my desk and one in the kitchen by your bowls so you can watch one of us cook for you, pup… Sound good?" Smiling, Logan followed them with the basket.

He nodded excitedly. He squealed as Janus picked him up and settled him on his hip. He kissed Remus’ nose, suddenly very angry that he hadn’t been doing this the entire time. He pulled Remus in for a close kiss, and swallowed down the fact that he loved him. 

Sighing, Logan took another picture. "My lovely boys…"

Janus blushed and glowered at him. “Put your phone down,” he snapped, while Remus giggled and nuzzled into him. 

Winking, Logan grinned, coming over to kiss them both. "I'll send you the picture!"

Janus’s glare deepened, but he didn’t oppose. He set Remus down with a kiss to the top of his head. “Go pick out some things, baby boy.”

Remus wasted no time, excitedly perusing the selection, occasionally picking some things out. 

Hugging Janus lightly, Logan smiled. "He's so happy…"

“I’ve never seen him this happy,” Janus admitted, trying not to sound frustrated. 

"Because we're both here… And he's getting away from his toxic parents. I pushed and gave the way, but you got him here, sugar. Thank you." Kissing his cheek, he gave Janus a squeeze.

Janus rolled his eyes. “Don’t patronize me. It was all you, you don’t have to pretend.”

Tipping his face with a frown, Logan sighed. "I'm not patronizing. He was singing your praises while you were out today, telling me how you set schedules, made him healthy food, encouraged him to rest and study… You kept him alive, baby. I'm very grateful for your loving care of our boy!"

Janus shrugged a little, but didn’t deny it anymore. Remus came back with a basket full of equipment, grin spread ear to ear. 

Attention shifting, Logan grinned. "Show us what you got, puppy?!"

Remus happily took them through the leashes he found, the puppy ears and little outfits, and the big, fluffy bed. Janus was hardly surprised to see he’d snuck some baby bottles in there, too. 

Ruffling his hair, Logan praised him. "Such a good boy, going to be even cuter all dressed up for your masters!" Remus squealed and threw himself into Logan’s arms. Scooping him up, Logan chuckled softly. "Such a good puppy, yes you are!"

Remus kissed along his neck, shaking with happiness. He hunched his hips a little. 

“We should get going,” Janus said with a grin. 

"Mmm, probably right, pup needs a full reward…" He nuzzled Remus, giving his ass a squeeze. 

Janus took the baskets and followed them to the register. Watching what Janus' gaze lingered on, Logan picks up a few more things, adding in nipple clamps that are adjustable and petting a black and yellow outfit for a moment. 

"What's your size, J~?"

Both boys glanced back, and Janus’s face flushed red. “Right. Like I’ll let you make me look like a bumblebee.”

“Medium!” Remus said excitedly. “But he likes things bigger, so get him an extra large!” 

Janus pressed his hand to his forehead. 

Snickering, he moved his hand back to the deep blue outfit behind it, getting an extra large for Janus. "Good to know!"

“Would you knock it off?” He whispered as the clerk giggled at them. “I don’t need anything!”

Kissing Janus' cheek, Logan adds it to the pile anyway. "Ah, but I want to treat you… Even if you don't need it, wear it for me, baby~?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. “Fine.”

Logan grinned wider. "Thank you, honey… It just felt wrong not getting you treats too."

Janus got into the backseat with the bags as Logan and Remus once again claimed the front. His heart rate quickened as he realized they were going to Logan’s home, unknown territory. Janus wouldn’t have the upper hand anymore. 

Smiling back, Logan started towards his home again. "Do you want separate rooms for now, dears? Your own spaces as well as shared ones?"

Janus grimaced. “That’d be fine.”

Remus pouted. “Do we have to?”

"You don't have to, lovely, and it's okay either way. Janus can have his own space and you can be in my room and both are valid, sweet pup!" Squeezing Remus' knee, he hummed.

As Remus kissed Logan’s cheek, Janus wrapped his arms around himself and stared out the window. 

Logan glanced back. "Janus? What activities other than debate interest you, dear one?" 

He shrugged. “I like theatre. Music. Makeup and clothes.”

Smiling softly, he nodded. "I have a few rooms that I haven't done anything with… I was planning to make Remus an art space, would you be interested in some interior design?"

Janus straightened up and barely repressed a smile. “I suppose.”

"Perfect! I want this to be our home… Not just mine." He grinned, turning towards his home, pointing out good restaurants and parks as they got closer.

Remus giggled gleefully as Janus smiled. “I should call my parents!” Remus squealed, and before anyone could stop him, he whipped his phone out and dialed, putting them on speaker. 

"Oh my…" Logan frowned, looking for a place to pull over just in case. 

"Remus, darling…” a bland voice crackled through the phone, “I hope you have some good news, I was just on my way out to the salon!"

“I do! Where’s Dad?” Remus vibrated with excitement. 

"Out to golf… Is it important? Have you finally been attending classes? Your grades are abysmal… How will we ever find you a job, a wife— You're just so unfocussed!"

Janus bit his lip to bite back the scathing responses. Remus wilted a little. It was okay, they’ll be proud! “No, I’m dropping out! I have a boyfriend— Two boyfriends! One of them is rich!” 

Janus dropped his head in his hands. Oh, boy. 

Squeezing Remus' knee, Logan cleared his throat as she inhaled. "Indeed… You won't be needing to pay his expenses any longer, we shall provide for our dear Remus." 

"Who is this?! YOU RELEASE YOUR CORRUPTING GRASP FROM MY BOY NOW!!" 

"Look to the issues covering the spring gala, madam, I'm sure you'll figure it out…" 

“Wait, wait- Tell her your name!” Remus said in panic. “Your last name, what’s your last name again? Tell her!” 

Logan’s family was famous, and successful… Surely being with him was ‘presentable’ enough, right?

Smirking, Logan nodded. "I am Logan Taylor… And I am your son's boyfriend. I will protect and love this precious man as well as I am able."

"Taylor?! As in the corporation?! Remus Alexander Duke! What have you done…" She trailed off in shocked sputters.

“You’re…” Remus swallowed and blinked frantically. “You’re not… Proud?”

Janus seethed in the back seat. He couldn’t have expected her to be happy he was dropping out of college, but her reaction to Logan? More fear than excitement? Just how did she view her son? 

"I am shocked… I… We— We had appointments for you to meet some girls. I thought you agreed with our plan, honey." She tried to be placating, gentle, though it was clear she was fuming. 

“I told you I don’t like girls,” he mumbled sadly. 

Janus lurched forward and snatched the phone. “If you want to talk to your son, it can wait until you learn to act like a mother. Bye.” Janus hung up and tossed the phone to the side, face red and hands shaking. 

Logan tugged Remus into a hug. "I'm sorry, baby… Maybe she'll come around? Either way you have us, and we support you."

Remus sucked in a breath and buried his face in Logan’s shoulder. “I just… I thought this is what she wanted. Is this not…”

"I'm sure if I were a rich woman she'd be thrilled, my sweet pup… If I had to guess, she jumped to you blackmailing me or some nonsense because it's what she would do. Do you want to be mine on your own terms, baby? It's what's important to me, your happiness, and Janus' happiness… Not hers, not anyone else's." Petting down his back, he reached for Janus as well.

Janus held Logan’s hand with pursed lips. Remus nodded. “You make me happy.”

Smiling, Logan hummed. "Then let's be happy, together… She'll calm and accept us, or she won't. Maybe your father will be better?"

Remus shrugged. “She’s the laid back one. I don’t… Really wanna talk to my dad.”

Sighing softly, Logan nodded. "Mmm, I volunteer my parents for cuddles and extra support?"

Janus grimaced. “You like your parents?”

Smiling softly, he nodded. "Want me to call them? Try that announcement again?"

Remus huddled into himself and shrugged. “Sure.”

“You don’t have to,” Janus insisted. 

"True… Home and cuddles first maybe?" Stroking Remus, he sighed. "Want to hold you…."

“Are we almost home?” He asked quietly. 

Janus’ heart ached. He already saw Logan’s place as home? What about all the months they spent together in their apartment?

"We're halfway between the apartment and my house… Which home do you want, baby?" Stroking Remus' cheek, he sighed, giving Janus a sad look. Janus looked away uncomfortable. 

Remus frowned. “I thought we were going to your house.” 

"That is my home, yes… I was just… You were with Janus for quite some time, wasn't that home? Or is it more the person that makes it home…" Humming, he petted Remus softly.

Janus blushed. “Shut up, Logan.”

“I just want to be with both of you.” Remus sounded confused. “Did I say something wrong?”

"No, pet, just clarifying…" Stealing a kiss, he started driving again, taking them to his house and parking in the garage.

Janus hesitated, but Remus jumped out with so much excitement that he couldn’t help but follow, wrapping an arm around his waist. Remus was the sweetest, cutest boy Janus had ever met— He would do anything for him. 

Giving them a soft hug, Logan smiles. "Welcome to my home… Now our home!"

When they got inside, Janus held Remus close and looked around warily. 

Logan flicked the lights on, starting a small tour and offering a hand for support. "Main floor is all common spaces, kitchen, living room, a pair of small rooms I think will work for an art area perhaps as well as maybe another office for Janus to do school work? Upstairs is three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and my office…"

Janus scowled. “Why do you have a four bedroom house to yourself? How old are you?”

“Why not?” Remus asked excitedly. “If I had enough money, I’d buy a castle!” 

Janus sighed. 

Logan hummed. "I am 28, and I mainly bought it to be able to be close to business and school but have space to myself. Also, there's a nice backyard. I like to garden."

“A lot of space,” Janus grumbled. 

"Well, yes… But I wanted to plan for a family. Being pan, and poly… I was expecting at least two partners and hopefully children." He blushed. "As an only child I wanted something different?"

Janus’ face went pink and Remus giggled, poking Janus’ tummy. “Ohh, you found Janny’s soft spot!” 

"Hmm? Oh! The family or the garden space? I was planning for a future with this place…” Coming over, he stroked his pink face. "I want to share it with those I care about."

“I don’t have a soft spot,” Janus managed, trying not to lean into Logan’s touch. 

“It’s both,” Remus said helpfully, cuddling into Janus’ back. 

Humming, Logan shifted to hug them both. "I have a soft spot for you two so… Don't be shy, my dear?"

Janus just shrugged, hiding his face in Logan’s shoulder. Remus kissed the back of his neck, and he shivered. 

"You're beautiful… both of you. Welcome home, my lovely boys." 

Janus could have melted right there, trying not to show how desperately he wanted to hide in Logan’s arms and never come out, to hold Remus close and force him to believe he’s loved. Remus bounced behind him with naive excitement, squealing and cooing at Logan. 

Shifting to better hold Janus, Logan grinned, tugging Remus in better so they can both cuddle him. "Mmm, to the couch, babies?"

Janus held back a groan and nodded weakly. Remus gripped their hands and bounced after Logan to the living room. 

Nuzzling, Logan sighed softly. "Perfect… Get your collar for me, pup?"

Remus lit up. “Okay! I’ll get Jan-Jan’s, too!”

He was out the room before Janus could protest. Now left alone with Logan, he stiffened marginally and tilted his head away. 

Humming, Logan rubbed the stiff back. "You don't have to wear it until you ask for it, baby… I respect your choices. You're not a sub, you're a switch, yes?"

Janus blanched. The idea of asking for it was… Not favorable. He hesitated on an answer. “I’ve never subbed before,” he settled on. “Didn’t think it’d ever…” Be an option, “cross my path.”

Nodding, he kept the hold light and gentle as he settled behind Janus on the couch. "Understood… I won't ask for more than you're willing to give. Even if it's just hugs and kisses as we share the ball of energy that is our puppy, I'm willing to just be your support, Janus." 

Janus smiled a little— Remus always made him smile. He pretended Logan didn’t make him feel the same way. 

He looked over his shoulder, forcing himself to meet Logan’s eyes. “I can give whatever you need me to.”

Stroking his cheek, Logan nodded. "Be honest with me… Don't hide yourself, or guess what you think I want. I wish for partners that I can care for but also tell me when I'm wrong?"

Janus swallowed and dropped his gaze. “I don’t know what I want,” he whispered. “I just want you to…”

Lightly lifting his head, Logan smiled. "Kiss me, be with me… We'll figure out the rest as we go?"

Janus barely let Logan finish his sentence before leaning in and kissing him softly, arms crossed over his chest. Cuddling him into his arms, Logan moaned softly into the kiss, curling protectively around Janus. Janus gripped onto his shoulders and pressed closer, biting back his own soft sounds of pleasure. 

Stroking down his back, he hummed into the kiss, nibbling Janus' lips for entrance. More, want to taste you, baby~!

Janus immediately obeyed, mouth dropping open and pushing his tongue into Logan’s mouth. Gasping, he squeezed Janus' ass, grinding gently as he twined their tongues. 

Janus pulled away just enough to whisper, “If you’re going to have me submit, it won’t be easy.”

Voice husky, he purred, taking Janus' head to kiss down his throat. "Mmm, I don't mind one bit, baby… You're worth it~!"

Janus bit back a groan, tipping his head back. “Good luck.”

Licking a stripe to his ear, he chuckled. "Thank you, baby~!" 

Janus dug his fingers into Logan’s shoulders, dragging his nails down Logan’s back. 

Chuckling, Logan nipped his ear softly. "Making you feel good, baby~?"

Janus gasped a bit. “Take a guess.” He tangled one of his hands in Logan’s hair, tugging hard. 

Licking his ear, he nibbled it again, before moving back to his neck. "I think you like it when I go vampire on your neck, baby~!"

“Is that what you think?” Janus managed. He dragged one hand down Logan’s chest, his stomach. 

"Mmm…. among other things~!" Gently guiding him to a wall, he pressed Janus against it, lifting him up for more kisses and nips.

Any leverage Janus had been working up to vanished as Logan lifted him up. He let out a groan through clenched teeth and wrapped his legs around Logan’s waist, gripping his shoulders for stability. 

Smirking, he stroked his thighs, grinding lightly. "Mine… My pretty baby~!"

Janus whined and squeezed his eyes shut. 

Kissing his face softly, he hummed. "Look at me, darling one?"”

Janus cracked his eyes open, and met Remus’ eyes over Logan’s shoulder. Embarrassment curdled deep in Janus’ stomach and he almost made Logan put him down, but the way Remus stared at them, holding their collars, like Logan and Janus was everything he’d ever been waiting for—

He flicked his bleary gaze to Logan. 

Cupping his face gently like he's memorizing every line, he hummed. "Don't be ashamed… I want you to feel good in my care, love~!"

Remus bounced over to them with a grin. He kissed Janus’s red cheek. “I have the collars! And my leash.” He smiled cutely. 

Letting Janus slide down, he stole a deep kiss before taking Remus' face to kiss him as well. Remus giggled against his lips and kissed him back impatiently, and then pulled away and thrusted out the collars. 

Taking them, he chuckled. "Eager pup… Kneel, my dear pet?"

Remus dropped to his knees hard enough for Janus to wince, looking up at the both of them with wide, shining eyes. 

"Slower next time, puppy… No hurting yourself, hmm?" Cupping the eager face, he gently tipped his head and settled the collar on, snapping it into place and adding the leash. 

Remus rubbed his fingers against the collar with a grin. “Jan-Jan?” He held out Janus’ with a hopeful smile. 

Taking Janus' hand, he squeezed. "As you please, baby… Your choice."

Janus crossed his arms over his chest and grumbled, “You can do what you want,” but Logan didn’t miss the way he tilted his head back and presented his purpling throat. 

Sliding a finger under the offered neck, he smiled, sliding the collar slowly around, giving time to back away. "Mmm, thank you, baby~!"

Janus felt the collar in a more tentative fashion than Remus did, his eyes lidded. He shakily dropped to his knees. 

Petting them both, he encouraged them to lean. "There's my babies… I've got you, safe and sound."

Janus had to remind himself that it was just the two of them there, that no one could see him… Acting like this. He leaned into Logan’s touch while Remus giggled beside him. 

"Only like this for me, baby… Just relax, let me care for you today, hmm?" Cupping the tenser face, he rubbed behind Remus' ears. 

“Yeah,” Janus whispered as Remus melted and whined into Logan’s touch, “I’ll try.”

"That's all I want, little one… How about you curl up in the couch blankets, get them all ready and I'll get pup his knee socks, ears, and tail?"

Remus perked up, and Janus nodded, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest. He stole the remote and curled up in the corner of the couch, stealing all the blankets, and finding his favourite show. Remus followed Logan excitedly. 

Smiling, Logan scooped him up, making for the bags and settling the pup next to the table. "Strip, pet… Then lean over the table for your tail!"

Janus’ eyes widened and his face flushed. He pushed out the thought that he’s going to see Remus naked— Remus himself didn’t seem too shy. He did exactly as Logan asked, clothes flinging everywhere, and bent himself over the table. Janus kept his gaze firmly on the T.V. 

Stroking his boy, he hummed, rubbing some lube into his hole as he started to stretch him for the plug. "Such a messy boy… You'll be picking that up with your teeth and making a pile under the table afterwards, pup."

Remus whined and started to protest, but Janus cleared his throat. He flicked his gaze to Remus for just a second, shifted under the blankets, and looked back at the T.V as he said, “Puppies don’t speak, unless I’m mistaken.” 

"Quite correct. Pups may whine, bark, yip, howl, or growl… But no words, are we understood, my slutty little bitch~?"

“What’s your colour in regards to that, darling?” Janus asked, barely managing to keep his gaze away. 

“Green,” Remus squeaked, eyes wide. 

Smiling, Logan worked him with two fingers, humming. "That's a good pup…"

Remus whined and whimpered, thrusting back against him. Janus couldn’t tear his gaze away anymore; he took in all of Remus’ beautiful form, everything he’d been wanting to see for so long, and hunched his hips even as guilt settled in his stomach. 

Humming, he beckoned Janus over. "Baby? Can you get me his ears?"

Janus hesitated. There was no way he could get up without them noticing how hard he was. “Get them yourself,” he said and moved his gaze back to the T.V. 

"Come here, baby… Or I'll send pup to you. Maybe he can help you with your problem~?"

“I don’t have a problem,” he snapped. “Get it yourself.” 

Settling the tail plug in, he hummed, sliding the padded socks into place. "Well, then… His mouth is amazing though~!" 

Janus ignored him, face bright red as he burrowed further in the blankets. Snapping softly to get Remus to kneel again, Logan dressed him in green lingerie and set the ears in place, before whispering something to him. Remus grinned and bounded over to the couch. He leapt up and Janus yelped as Remus landed in his lap. He curled up and nuzzled his head into Janus’ tummy, who very, very slowly rested his hands on Remus’ arm and head. Remus nuzzled into him for pets, and Janus felt like he was going to explode. 

Grinning Logan came over to watch. "Isn't he adorable?"

“Mhm.” Janus’ voice was strangled. 

Remus whimpered and looked up at him with wide eyes. Janus brushed Remus’ hair back tentatively, and Remus smiled and nuzzled into his palm. 

"Go on, pup… Make him feel even better~!" 

Remus eagerly tugged at the blankets, Janus tensing. Remus stopped with his hands on Janus’ pants and frowned up at him. 

“Colour?” Remus asked softly. 

Janus melted a little. “You really want to do this?” Remus nodded. “...Green.” 

Remus smiled and unbuttoned Janus’s pants, yanking them down the best he could before ducking his head. Janus let out a choked whine and tipped his head back. 

"Good boys…" Smiling proudly, Logan leaned in and stroked Janus' face, kissing his cheek.

Any guilt Janus had felt melted away as Remus sucked his cock eagerly, and he leaned into Logan’s touch. “Remus,” Janus panted, bucking his hips. 

"Just give his hair a tug when you're close… He likes to swallow, but also likes being painted~!" Rubbing at Janus' shoulders and face, he kissed more. "Watch him~!"

Just the thought of covering Remus in his come, marking him as Janus’, had him tangling his fingers in Remus’ hair and tugging hard. Remus whined and pulled off half way just in time for Janus to come, half in his mouth and half over his nose and cheek. 

Janus whimpered as he stared down at Remus with lidded eyes. He only felt so incredible for a moment before the guilt crept back in. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Janus whispered, frantically wiping away his come. “Use your words.”

“I’m okay!” Remus laughed kind of nervously, and grabbed one of Janus’ hands. “I’m okay. Master’s right, I like it. That was really fun!”

Taking one of Janus' hands, Logan hummed, licking it clean. "It's okay, baby…"

Janus shuddered, slipping his fingers into Logan’s mouth. Remus curled back up happily, not bothering to tuck Janus’ cock back away as he nuzzled into Janus’ stomach. 

"Mmm, so delicious, baby… Almost jealous of the pup~!" Licking and sucking, Logan grinned.

Janus groaned and laid back, letting Logan do what he will with his fingers as Remus practically purred in his lap. He felt like he was in a dream. There was no way this was real. 

Logan nibbled his palm. "Happy, baby~?"

He nodded dazily, and made a vague sound of agreement.  

Stealing another kiss, Logan slid onto the couch, petting their pup and he kissed Janus deeply, content. Janus kissed him back with a sigh, fingers raking through Remus’ hair. 

Smiling, Logan tucked Janus closer, stroking down his chest lightly. Mmm, my beautiful babies!

“I never thought I’d be here with you,” Janus mumbled, and after a moment of hesitation, “or him.” Remus had fallen asleep, snoring quietly and gripping onto Janus’s shirt. 

"Mmm, same… But here we are and isn't it lovely?" Kissing Janus on the forehead, he smiled softly.

Janus squeezed his eyes shut as they welled with tears. “I’m sorry I… Acted, how I did. I was… Jealous. And upset.”

Petting him gently, he hushed Janus. "Baby, it's okay…. Really, it is."

Janus wiped his eyes and looked up, trying to keep his tears in. “I don’t deserve you two. Remus is… He’s so good, and you…” 

Nuzzling, he hummed. "Baby, you're good, too. So good. One of the only people to out debate me, ever… You're a handsome, strong… Amazing man. I am lucky to have you and Remus at my side, baby!"

“You had to go through hell to get through to us,” Janus laughed weakly. “We’re both so stupid. You’re sure it was worth your energy?”

Nodding, he smiled. "So worth it… I would have no others at my side~!"

Janus kissed him softly. “Hopefully that lasts.” 

Humming into the kiss, he nodded. "I want this to last, too… But even if something pulls us from a romantic relationship… I will always be your friend and supporter, Janus."

Janus wiped his eyes roughly. “Shut up,” he snapped. 

Voice soft and fond, he hummed, taking his chin. "Never. I do not like falsehoods… Especially when it's about someone I love."

“You don’t love me,” he scoffed, pressing their foreheads together. “You barely know me. This whole thing…” He laughed wetly, “is ridiculous.” 

"I am not in love with you yet, but I care for you deeply. I know that you are someone I want in my life, to get to know. Please let me care for you, Janus?" Touching the collar lightly, he smiled. "This is my promise, you are wanted. You are special and I want to date you. Your problems are mine, let me assist you with them. My arms are yours… Come to me when you have need or desire and I will catch you."

Part of him still believed this was some trick, that neither of them actually wanted him and they were putting him on. It probably wasn’t true, but if it was… Janus wasn’t so sure he cared. 

He leaned into Logan’s touch and nodded, eyes fluttering closed. Stroking his hair, Logan sighed happily as they fell asleep in a cuddle pile.

Also a reminder that Virgil does smut commissions, each coffee equals 300 words

A/N: just thought id write something a little more realistic to what id possibly do irl... the whole sex thing aint really my vibe (i admit, it is nice in fics though). its a bit ironic how soft and understanding ive portrayed Mei here 🙃 but idk, my brain really liked him for this fantasy for some reason ~ kuri

Pairing: Narumiya Mei x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff? Smut? (me… expressing my feelings?) - SEXUAL CONTENT

to save you all from disappointment...

[[ OVERVIEW ]] vibrator, male masturbation, fem!voyeurism

Word Count: 1,752

Today is one of those days that you just want to feel good. With the stress of school and work starting to pile up, you decide to reserve some time for yourself to relax and unravel on a day that your boyfriend said he’d be back late. Having been in just an oversized t-shirt and your panties all day, you don’t bother to undress, simply pressing the bullet vibrator that Mei had gifted to you a few months ago for your two year anniversary over the thin material of your underwear and letting the powerful toy effortlessly do its job. The bundle of nerves unravelling in your core has your toes curled and thighs quivering in anticipation of your much needed high, but you’re alarmed by the sound of footsteps approaching the door, making you scramble to turn off the noisy device.

“I’m home!” your vivacious boyfriend announces as he emerges through the bedroom door, “I was able to get out of practice early today!”

“O-oh! That’s good!” you answer nervously, watching as Mei changes out of his uniform and into more casual clothes. After tossing his practice wear into the nearest hamper, he immediately joins you in bed and pulls you into a quick kiss as a greeting.

“So what did you do today?” he asks, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

“Uh, not much honestly…” you mutter, awkwardly averting eye contact with the painstakingly oblivious boy.

“Did you at least enjoy your day off?”

“Mm… I suppose…”

Finally picking up on your uncomfortable body language, Mei scoots away from you with a worried look and asks, “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine!” you quickly assure, feigning a smile in hopes that he’ll drop the issue, but he doesn't. Pouting at you, he reaches out to hold your hand which is balled in a tight fist to conceal your bullet, considering you had nowhere else to hide it with Mei barging in so suddenly.

“Why are you clenching your fist?” he questions, caressing your whitened knuckles with his thumb, “Are you hurt?” Pursing your lips, you remain silent and unwilling to provide an answer for a brief moment, but when you meet his troubled gaze, you feel the concern radiating from his bright blue orbs and can’t help but feel bad for making him anxious over something so miniscule. Letting out a deep sigh you finally uncurl your fingers, releasing the cylindrical piece of plastic into your lover’s palm, which he recognizes immediately seeing how his eyes widen in shock.

“I was using it just before you came in…” you disclose quietly, unable to look at him directly.

“Oh… I’m sorry,” he replies immediately and places the novelty back into your care, “You should have said something earlier. I would’ve left you alone.”

“I didn’t want to just kick you out… Having you home early was a nice surprise.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it now then, alright? I’m going to start preparing dinner.”

Just as he climbs off of the bed, you blurt a quick “Wait!” before he can leave the bedside and you wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face into his chest. “Stay.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, he strokes the back of your head with one hand and holds you in a tight embrace with the other before responding, “You don’t want to do it anymore?”

“Well… I was thinking…” you start, still hesitant about whether or not you should share with him one of your little reoccurring fantasies.

“You were thinking?” Mei repeats after a long silence, your cliffhanger spawning curiosity within him.

“Um, it’s… kind of embarrassing actually…” you murmur before leaving him hanging yet again.

“You can’t just say that and then change your mind,” he whines and pinches your cheek, “C’mon, just say it. The suspense is killing me.”

You can’t disagree with his point, considering you’d already opened your mouth, it’d be rude to back down now. If you didn’t want to tell him, you shouldn’t have said anything in the first place.

“I… I was thinking…” you start again, your reluctance to confess what was on your mind causing you to stumble over your words, “I-it might be… well uh… a little weird… b-but um… maybe… you can… y’know… use it on me…” Pulling away from his body, your trembling hand places the toy back into Mei’s calloused one, and while he quickly accepts it from you, his furrowed brows seem to portray a different message.

“Are you sure?” he asks lovingly, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d love to, but… would you enjoy it?”

“I… I’d like to enjoy it… I don’t know for sure if I will,” you admit, still apprehensive of the idea, but hoping you’ll muster up the courage to follow through, “I know it’s not much… but I think it might be good for us to share intimate moments like this together.”

“I’m already satisfied with what we do. You don’t have to force yourself to do more.”

“I want to… for you. Even if we don’t go all the way, I really want to let my walls down with you. It’s the least I can do with how understanding you’ve been over the course of our relationship.”

“How could I not be when I have the best girlfriend ever,” he smiles, cupping your face in his hands, “If you really want to, I’d love to do this with you, but if you aren’t enjoying it, don’t hesitate to tell me, okay?”

Nodding up at him, he rejoins you on the bed and gestures for you to sit in his lap, so you do, positioning yourself in between his legs and without hesitation, he wraps his arms around your waist. Pulling you flush against him, he peppers soft kisses down your neck, making you hum in satisfaction at the feeling and roll your head back onto his shoulder, granting him further access and he’s quick to accept the invitation.

“I’m ready when you are,” he mutters against your neck between kisses.

“I’m ready…” you answer under your breath, unsure if there is actually truth in the words you’d just spoken. You’d already made up your mind about going through this and you had no intentions of backing down, but the nerves that follow are no joke, considering it isn’t easy allowing yourself to be so vulnerable in front of someone, even should it be someone you’re comfortable with.

At the sound of the obnoxious buzzing initiated by Mei turning on the device, you unintentionally tense up and he feels it, so he immediately turns it back off to check on you.

“Are you okay? You still want to do this?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly, reaching out toward the hand which held the vibrator and turning it back on, “I’m just nervous… but that’s to be expected, right?”

“Well yeah… but don’t forget that you can stop me at any time. Okay?”

Giving him a final nod, Mei proceeds to lower his hand between your legs, pressing the smooth surface of the toy against your clit. You jolt at the abrupt wave of pleasure that sears through your core, but it’s nice for once to be experiencing this while being held in the arms of the one you love most. Having him there somehow adds an extra warmth that you can’t really explain and on top of that, with him doing all the work, you can relax more than you’d normally be able to.

The feeling of him growing hard behind you only adds to the sensation, every twitch of his cock turning you on more than you thought possible, and with heat radiating from your sweet spot and a familiar tension rapidly building up below, you know you won’t last much longer. Entwining your fingers with the ones that lovingly encompass your frame, you squeeze tightly on his hand upon climaxing while the rest of your body convulses rhythmically in response to the sheer bliss rushing through your body.

“I love you,” Mei whispers, turning off the vibrator and setting it aside as you fall limp against him, gradually ascending from your peek.

“I love you more,” you argue breathily, pulling his arms tighter around you while you lay slumped against him, eyes still comfortably closed.

“Impossible,” he refutes with a peck to your cheek before trying to discreetly untangle his arms from yours and urge you off of his lap, “But if you’ll excuse me… I have things to take care of now too.”

“I wanna watch,” you plead, clinging onto his arm to prevent him from leaving the bed.

“Okay,” he agrees and frees his stiff member from the confinement of his briefs. The tip is glistening with pre-cum and you can’t resist swirling the substance around his engorged head, forcing a soft groan out of him.

He allows you to continue toying with the top half while his fingers encircle the base of his shaft, milking out more of his essence for you to play with, but you only indulge for a while more before finally withdrawing your hand and snuggling close to him, pulling him into a heated kiss as he starts to pump himself at a steady pace. Slipping a hand under his shirt, you trace over his tensed abdomen, your extra touch helping to entice his orgasm.

“Pull it up,” Mei speaks desperately, his voice raspy as his hand movements start to speed up. Recognizing his end is nearing, you do as he says, lifting the hem of his shirt to at least his chest and stealing one last peck from him before letting him chase his high.

“Fuck,” he grunts through gritted teeth, his brows knitted together and eyes squeezed shut while his hips jerk upward, his thick seed shooting out in thin ropes over his smooth abdomen.

You can’t help but admire his post-orgasm appearance for a moment before making your way to the master bathroom, retrieving tissues to clean up the mess. There’s just something about him lying there peacefully with beads of sweat on his temples and the sound of his labored breathing that gives him a different glow in comparison to his usual handsome features. It’s really a beautiful sight to witness.

Noticing your staring, a puzzled look forms on Mei’s face before he addresses it, “I know I’m handsome, but you don’t need to stare.”

“Shut up,” you giggle, playfully elbowing him in the arm making the two of you break out into a fit of laughter. It ends with Mei pulling you on top of him and pressing his lips against yours, but momentarily separating them to speak.

“I love you so damn much… I hope you know that I’d do literally anything for you.”

“I do, and that’s why I love you even more.”

Hi :) I... really wanna read a fanfic or two but I can't find one I vibe with xD So... do you know one that's not too long (around 100k words maybe), has hurt and comfort, smut (am I allowed to ask about that?? Ahhhh) and a happy ending? Top!lock would be a bonus but it's not necessary. And if it's a nice AU (like... any kind but no crossovers pls), it would be perfect! :D By the way, I found your blog only a few hours ago and I already feel really comfy and Idk, kinda at home here ^-^

Hi Nonny!!!

Welcome to my corner of the Tumblrsphere!!! I’m so happy you’ve found me, LOL, because I love all my followers and friends! <3

First of all, I think it’s super cute that “not too long” to you is “around 100K” LOL LOL LOL!!! <3 That said, I’d argue all my fic recs are fabulous, LOL. But again, I’m stupidly proud of the wonderful lists I’ve accumulated, because it satisfies my organization kink LOL. And yes, you’re ALWAYS allowed to ask for smut here LOL. 

ANYWAY, so I’m gonna use this ask as an excuse to post up a long-overdue part two to my 50 to 100K fic list! But first, here’s some past lists for the genres you’re looking for:

FIC MASTER PAGES: PG1 || PG 2 || PG 3

Toplock (Mar 2020)

Omegaverse

Please Check PG 3 for all my AU fic lists. There’s a lot :)

Hurt / Comfort Pt. 1: Under 5K Words 

Hurt / Comfort Pt. 2: 5K to 10K Words

Fandom Favourites / Popular Fics

I hope those will get you started! So now, here’s the main event!! Hope you enjoy them!

50 - 100 K WORDS Pt. 2 (Novel Length)

See also:

Fics Under 2000 w.

Fics Under 2000 w. Pt. 2

Fics Under 2000 w. Pt. 3

E-Rated Johnlock for Newcomers Pt 1 (Short Fics under 20K)

Novella Length Fics: 25 to 50K (Aug. 2019)

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K (Nov. 2018)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. (May 2019)

Long S3/Post-S3 Fics (20K+ w.) [Apr 2020]

Top 20 Fave 40K+ w. Fics (April 2017)

Smut-Free Fics Over 50K (Aug 2019)

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

Never Change a Running System by Lorelei_Lee (E, 54,246 w. || Pre-TRF, Romance, Humour, Drama, Sex Toys, Anal, Rimming, Masturbation, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Public Sex, First Kiss / Time, Virgin Sherlock / Loss of Virginity, Accidental Voyeurism, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Experiments, Naive Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Straight With an Exception John, Hand Jobs) – Sherlock discovers his sexuality – with far-reaching consequences for John.

A Hundred Crimson Sols by elldotsee (E, 55,536 w. || Astronauts AU || Mars Exploration / Space Travel, Slow Burn, Shy Sherlock, Scientist Sherlock / Biomed Engineer John, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, UST, Angst with Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Suicidal Ideation, Zero-G Sex) – Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because...new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab. Can the crew survive this TOTALLY ROUTINE trip? Will they be able to endure each other for the looooooong trip in close quarters? Gonna be a wild ride... prepare for blast off. Part 1 of the SpaceBois go to Space series

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate's nose buried in your hair. Whilst you're in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

One Little Change by jadztone (E, 58,312 w. || ASiB Divergence, Fake Relationship, Bed Sharing, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bi John / Gay Demisexual Sherlock, Switchlock, Alternating POV, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Case Fic, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Love Making, Butt Plugs, Cuddles) – Our story begins right after John and Sherlock's first meeting with Irene Adler in September. It splits off into an AU that imagines them taking a case where they act as bait to hook a killer targeting closeted gays in secret relationships. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, many things happen that have our boys wondering if maybe they have a chance with each other. Then Irene fakes her death on Christmas Eve, and things get a lot more complicated - especially since they still have a killer to catch.

floating through a dark blue sky by Lediona (M, 58,966 w. || Notting Hilll AU || POV John, Celebrity Sherlock, First Date / Time / Kiss, Past Drug Addiction, Angst with a Happy Ending) – Of course, I’d seen his films and always thought he was, well, brilliant -- but, you know, a million miles from the world I live in. Or, when John is the owner of a travel book shop and the famous Sherlock Holmes stops in one day.

The Burning by SrebrnaFH (M, 60,658 w. || Reverse Reichenbach, Suicide, Depression, Hurt Sherlock / John, Separation, BAMF John, Good Big Brother Mycroft, Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Fake Character Death, Rescue Mission, Reconciliation / Reunion, Hospitalization, Marriage Proposal, Illnesses, Physical Therapy, Happily Ever After) – Something went very, very wrong. John had seemed, if not happy, then reasonably content with his life. Sherlock had never predicted something like THIS might have happened. Not in his worst nightmares. He was the lousiest friend ever, apparently. At least Mycroft found him something to occupy his mind with, so that he didn't have to go back to 221B and stare at the walls and the chair, where John Watson would never sit again.

This Thing All Things Devours by cypress_tree (E, 63,844 w., 15 Ch. || In Time AU || Science Fiction, Dystopian Universe, First Meetings, Action / Adventure, Romance) – In 2169, time is money—literally. Humans are genetically engineered to stop aging at 25, when the numbers on their arm start counting down from one year. When that time is up, they die. The only way to get more time is to earn it, borrow it, or steal it.John Watson lives day-to-day in the crowded slums of Zone 13. He never imagined living any differently—until he meets the practically-immortal Sherlock, and helps him on a case to track a local time-thief...

The Bells of King's College by SilentAuror (E, 64,019 w., 5 Ch. || Post-S4, Missed Opportunities, Angst with Happy Ending, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, John POV, Jealous John, John in Denial, Travelling / Holidays, Virgin Sherlock, Wedding Proposals) – It's only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths...

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU ||  Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

White Knight by DiscordantWords (M, 69,840 w., 13 Ch. || S4 Compliant/Post S4, Marriage For a Case, Jealous John, Pining John, Janine / Sherlock Fake Relationship, Serial Killers, Case Fic, Undercover as a Couple, Weddings, John is a Mess, Misunderstandings, Wedding Planning, Jealousy, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. The word green was used to convey a great many things. Illness. Envy. Inexperience. Standing there amidst Janine's chattering bridesmaids, watching Sherlock furrow his brow and study fabric swatches, watching him smile and simper and flirt, John thought it a remarkably apt colour choice. Because he felt quite sick to his stomach, he feared the source of said sickness might very well be jealousy, and he had absolutely no idea at all what to do about it. Or: Sherlock needs to fake a relationship for a case. He doesn't ask John.

Being John Watson-ish by elwinglyre (E, 69,902 w., 17 Ch. || Bodysnatcher AU || Author John, Cranky Sherlock, Angst, Sexual Tension, First Kiss / Time, Falling in Love, BAMF John, Past Soldier John, Feelings, Inside Someone’s Brain, Shy Sherlock, Sherlock Loves John, POV Sherlock, Switchlock, Slow Burn, Internal Dialogue, Mental Turmoil) – When consulting detective Sherlock Holmes steps on one toe too many at a crime scene, he's consigned to a desk job in an archaic office on the seventh-and-a-half floor of the New Scotland Yard. It’s in this bleak office that Sherlock discovers a portal into the mind of renowned author John Watson. Grander than his mind palace, this new wonderland affords Sherlock new vistas of experimentation. To learn more about the mystery behind the portal, Sherlock seeks out and befriends Watson. But then it all goes wrong when others find the secret portal door—including the man whose brain he visits.

Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.

The Vapor Variant by 88thParallel (M, 72,684 w., 18 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-THoB, John Whump, Protective Sherlock, Guilty Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Suspense, Virus, Sickfic, Big Brother Mycroft) – They stood face to face in the middle of a clearing. The dim light of the moon barely allowed Sherlock to see the glassy terror in John’s eyes and the sweat that glistened off his forehead. His nose was bleeding again, blood dripping in a slow stream from his right nostril. They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear. Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods. Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him.

Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w., 18 Ch. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he's a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover's trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world's highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?

The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) –  A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Sussex, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Background Case Fic) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017 Series by distantstarlight (E, 96,540 w. across 31 stories || Prompt Ficlets, Assorted Kinks, PWP) – A collection in response to the 31 Days of Porn Challenge issued by AtlinMerrik! Thanks for doing that because this has been buttload of fun (that joke never gets old). All stories will be brief stand-alone one-shots.

The Baker Street Nativity by SwissMiss (E, 99,662 w., 23 Ch. || Nativity! AU || Teacher Sherlock / TA John, Pining, Sherlock POV, UST, Angst, Christmas, Music/Song Fic, Anal / BJ’s, First Kiss / Time) – Fusion between Sherlock (BBC) and Nativity! (2009 movie starring Martin Freeman). Sherlock is a primary school teacher and John is assigned to be his classroom assistant. Together, they are charged with putting on the school's Nativity play. What could possibly go wrong? Part 1 of The Baker Street Nativity Verse

Given In Evidence by verityburns (M, 97,884 w., 19 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Angst, Drama, Case Fic, Romance, BAMF!John, Submissive Sherlock, First Kiss, Humour) – Coming back from the dead can be a complicated business. With a new case on the horizon, rebuilding a life is one thing... rebuilding a friendship quite another. For Sherlock and John, things may never be just the same...

March Ado About Nothing

Series Summary - A series of one-shots and  drabbles written based off of prompts posted in the TSS Fanworks Collective server. The goal is to take traditional whump prompts and fill them in the least-angsty way possible every day through March.

A note that though some of these fills are written bait and switch style (written in a way you think is going in one direction but reveals it to be the opposite towards the end) they are all written in a fluffy or silly style with very little, if any at all, actual angst.

Day 2: Stuff Your Secrets

Summary: Stuffed animals are good and normal to have no matter what age you are- except for Remus. Logan quickly fixes that line of thinking.

Prompts: "Please, no more!, Extreme Weather, *Dirty Secret*      

Ships: platonic intrulogical (Logan & Remus)

Warnings: mild angst, guilt for having stuffed animals. Let me know if there are!

General taglist (ask to be added or removed): @/janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi  @/im-an-anxious-wreck  (in an effort to not flood your inboxes I’m only tagging in the first part ^-^)

WC: 1235

Stuffed animals, with all their innocence and connection to childlike wonder and imagination, weren’t usually something that was defined as a dirty secret someone would desperately try to hide away at all costs. Having stuffed animals was normal and useful to mental health: they were soft and plushy and you could cuddle them for comfort, they were amazing to grip onto when one was sick or in pain and, if you didn’t want to feel odd talking to yourself to work out one idea or other, you could always prop them up as a makeshift audience to listen to you infodump for hours and they would never get annoyed!

So no, stuffed animals themselves weren’t the problem, nor was having them as a fully grown and “mature” adult. The problem came because the owner was Remus, and Remus had come to learn that if he had something it was automatically thought to be something gross or dangerous or disturbing- especially if that’s not what it looked lille from the outside. He was the one that would play stupid pranks of showing someone something rather cute but have it open its mouth to reveal several jaws and a tentacle, or give someone a teddy bear the melted into foul smelling ooze when they held it. Do this enough times and be repressed for a decade or two to boot and you have a reputation that- while fair in its own right if he really thought about it- make having things that were actually innocent in nature a bit problematic if he didn’t want to be scrutinized within an inch of his life.

And so, his dirty secret remained hidden even from Janus, who Remus knew would never make fun of him or judge him for something so trivial but years of hiding made him skittish anyway. The irony of intrusive thoughts hiding something definitely wasn’t lost on him but he only shook the thought away as he continued shoving his well worn friends into a drawer in the closet while shooting a look at the clock. Logan would be coming in any minute now to help him organize a few of his projects that still needed fine tuning if he was going to show his brother any time soon; even though their relationship was still a little rocky...especially after knocking him out for an entire episode and some hateful words were said by the lighter side, they had both scraped up enough indignant reluctance to apologize and begin working together- however tentatively- on a couple different things to test the waters. And Remus wasn’t worried about it all! A second opinion from someone as observant and down to earth as Logan was never hurt was all.

He had just finished shoving everything closed and willing the closet to stay shut when there was a knock at the door. Grinning wide he sank in directly behind the logical side and opened the door from behind, making the other stiffen and then roll his eyes at Remus before walking into the room, immediately going for the desk and paying no attention to the slightly disappointed pout Remus was sporting over not getting a bigger reaction. He knew Logan was just as dramatic as any other side, he just had to find a sweet spot- maybe he’d steal his jam at some point. Appearing on top of the desk he gestured to a few notebooks strewn around.

“It’s a lot so buckle in! I haven’t had an outlet for my ideas in years!”

Logan peered at him from over his glasses. “So long as nothing is explicitly pornographic or sadistic in nature I’m willing to bet most of these will be harmless enough to include somewhere in future projects.” Screwing his mouth to the side Remus simply bounced in place, never having been able to sit still for very long especially when things were quiet. Thankfully Logan didn’t seem to mind, simply skimming through various sketchbooks and notebooks and placing flashcards to mark certain spots for whatever it was he was looking for. He jolted in surprise as something cold and gooey was pressed into his hands, looking up as Logan took his hand away and resumed his task.

“To fidget with if you like, I know sitting quietly can’t be easy but I appreciate your patience.”

Blinking in surprise Remus began idly stretching the goop around, the bright green slime enveloping his hand and sticking in a way that was oddly very pleasing as a tactile stim. He’d have to make more of this at some point and see if he could bathe in it; surely Roman wouldn’t mind one of their lakes turned into slime as long as it was for creativity's sake. He was so engrossed in the wonderful new thing he held in his hands that he didn’t hear the closet food creaking until it was too late, the overstuffed doors bursting open and spilling various items out onto the floor, multiple phallic shapes and odd body pillows were the least of his worries as he watched all of the stuffed animals he had shoved away spill out into the open in all their cute, fluffy glory. His chest constricted painfully as he shot a panicked look to Logan who was regarding the plushies waily as if they would come to life and maul him at any moment- which, while as in character as that might be- for some reason he couldn’t bear the thought of them being perceived that way.

“They’re safe I swear! Just stuffed animals I uh- there’s nothing- I just like-” His throat refused to cooperate and he was left gaping stupidly as Logan set the notebook down and stood up. “No, please!”

Remus reached out for Logan, knowing what he was pleading with him for but suddenly very aware of his racing thoughts telling him to make sure he wouldn’t get into trouble- what if he told Patton, or took them away because he wasn’t meant to have them? Or-

“I’ll be right back Remus. I promise, I’m just going to get mine.”

His? He was gone before Remus could question it as he ripped and pulled and mashed the goop in his hands nervously, wishing the other had left him with more of an explanation. He didn’t have long to wait however as Logan came back in with an armload of...something that was prompt laid on his bed. As he came closer he realized they were stuffed animals- Logan’s he guessed from the teddy bear adorned with a tie and a snail with a lab coat. But there was also a well worn fluffy purple dog, a calico cat with galaxy print for spots and a stegosaurus with a rainbow scale print on it. He looked back to Logan who smiled warmly.

“You don’t have to keep them a secret, Remus, at least not for me. I’d be a hypocrite to judge you and I’m very willing to bet the other’s would be as well.”

“Bet you my bug collection!” Remus shouted before he could think. Logan pulled a face. “I’m not trading you again- last time you didn’t say they spit acid and my desk was ruined.”

Cackling he twitched a finger and the toys were back on his bed where they belonged, though he did sneak a small squid plush in with Logan’s- as thanks.

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I Would Climb To You

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader

Summary: You’ve been friends since middle school, shared a lot of firsts, even had a pact that if both of you weren’t married by a ‘respectable age’ you’d tie the knot. For the first time in years you’re both single on the annual Wilson Family Trip, but feeling like you need to find yourselves, hating dating apps, and not wanting to play the rebound game you two come up with a genius idea to have your needs met: friends with benefits... What could possibly go wrong?

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Smut 18+, FWB!au, swearing, a little talk about the military/injuries

A/N: *THIS IS A ONE SHOT* This is my entry into the great @wxntersoldiers​​​ 6k AU challenge! PS. Jammies!

“Damn, I remember this. Never thought it would leave a scar.” Sam’s dark eyes looked over at you, his hand outreached to flick the faded palm sized scar that was a different shade of brown from the rest of your hip. “A Skip It, right?”

“Not just a Skip It,” The words came out through breathless laughter, “A Skip It challenge in Moon Shoes. We really should have known it wasn’t going to end well.”

Sam’s laugh, a missed sound in the last four months when your best friend was deployed, wrapped you up in familiar comfort. It was his first mission since you were honorably discharged and despite your swearing up and down that you didn’t miss the chaos of being a para-rescuer in the Air Force with that goofy asshole that had been your best friend since you moved to his hometown in seventh grade, you did. Moreover, you knew he knew it. That hug goodbye flashed in your memory briefly, Sam coming at you in camo goofy bear arms outstretched for a hug that, when given, didn’t have the smack to it that always made you unsteady on your feet. You’d reassured him you were fine, physically and emotionally, hugging him tightly back before poking him in the ribs and letting him get on with his farewells to his siblings. Despite the inaudible whispers, you knew he was telling them to check in on you. You also knew he didn’t need to say it, they’d taken you in, just like he had, many years ago. “Hey, where’d you go?” Sam’s voice pulled you out of your head and back to the poolside.

“Don’t look so concerned or someone’s gonna think you’re in love with me.” With a wave of your hand you tried to blow him off, but he didn’t bite, so you went to that line the two of you never crossed. “I was thinking about A.C. Slater and how I totally would have milked an injury in school if it would’ve given me a chance to hook up with a guy who could bench my bodyweight. If. You. Must. Know.”

When your head lulled to the side and a playful glare at Sam over your sunglasses, tongue sticking out, he scoffed. “You’re not that thick, I could bench you. It’s all about balancing the weight.”

“Oh, is this the move?” Laughing you hopped up and squeezed the hard muscles of his biceps, your dark curls dripping onto his bare chest. “I always wondered what you said to get a different girl to leave the bar with you every time we went out. I just assumed you did the whole ‘I’m a soldier’ card.”

Sam feigned offense and tickled his fingers at your waist, throwing you into a fit of laughter. Before you could protest he had one large hand on your inner thigh and the other on your ribs. Instinctually, you tightened your thighs around his hand, your hands ready to smack him on the top of his head as he just gripped you tighter, picking you up like you were a doll. “It might be the move.”

He groaned, you laughed and then he was laughing too. The consequence of loosening your muscles was your body falling onto his chest. “Don’t you dare groan, Wilson, or I’m going to let the boys know you dropped me.”

“Oh trust me, the fact that I dropped you poolside would not be the talk of the conversation.” With a scoff you asked what would be and he obliged you with an explanation you should’ve seen coming. “They always thought we were a thing, still do. They didn’t even ask if I was ‘going home’ for our leave. Instead, they asked what we were getting into.” Despite rolling your eyes, Sam went on. “I told ‘em that I was going to interview at the V.A. and that we were joining my family for a vacation- sun and sand, drinks poolside.”

By now you’d gotten off of him, your hip shoving his thigh to the side so that you could sit on his lounge chair and steal sips of his beer. “So, what did you tell them? Destination wedding or honking hula girl titties?”

“They asked for pictures of you in that bikini.”

“Fuck off.” You groaned, knowing that despite the love for your brothers in arms they were still sexist pigs at the best of times. “I hope you told them you think of me like a sister.”

“So I should’ve lied?” Sam snorted, snatching his beer back from your greedy lips. “If I was going to lie I would’ve said destination wedding to make them feel like assholes for not being invited.”

“So what, I’m a broken toy soldier now so I’m not your sister anymore?” You were hurt and Sam could hear it in your voice, but the sunglasses hid the glimmer of tears in your eyes.

In a huff, Sam watched you get up and reach to snatch his beer back, not particularly wanting to walk across the sunny poolside to get another. He pulled it away again, looking up at you. “You really want to do this right here, right now, on vacation, in front of some strangers’ kids playing Marco Polo.”

Stubborn, the both of you.

You were back in your room in the Wilson’s four bedroom and two bathroom villa faster than Sam could catch up with you and you didn’t care that you had left him with flip flops and a long walk to think about how much it hurt to have him push back about you being family after all these years. You’d sputtered away in the rented golf cart, middle finger flying high. Even now, using Paul and Darlene’s timeshare as a getaway for the kids still included you. You bit your lip and rummaged through your things, hoping a shower would stop you from taking an Uber back to the airport.

When you tapped on the bathroom door you shared with Sam’s sister, Sarah, you heard her holler back. “I’ll be out soon. Are you and Sam coming with Gideon and I to that hibachi place with the bar next door?”

“Sam might. I’m feeling jet lagged, so I think I’m going to sleep early today so that I don’t mess up the rest of our vacation.” You nibbled on your bottom lip until it was sore and puffy, rolling your towel over your arms both hoping she’d buy it and wondering she’d tell you how long ‘soon’ was. Before you got your answer Gideon walked out of the master and into his room next to yours, “Hey, Sam’s still at the pool if you want to text him and see if he’s going with you all.”

He was already taking out his phone, texting Sam, and without looking at you he said, “Just use the master bathroom. I promise the ‘boy’s bathroom is just as clean as yours and you know she’s going to be in there for ages.”

As Sarah shouted out some profanity at him, you mouthed a thank you and slipped into Sam’s room. Like your own, the bed was made and the only sign of life was the suitcase with a few items dangling out of its edges. A glance at the closet as you walked into the bathroom was another tell on your similarities and enlistment- all of the clothes neatly hung in the closet.

You couldn’t even be sure how long the hot water was running over you. As you rinsed off the sweat and sunblock, the door burst open and you swore. “What the f-.” Cut off by flying sandals you squawked again, “What the actual f-.”

Sam cut you off again, shutting the door and crossing his arms but turning toward the opposing wall for your modesty, not that the opaque shower curtain he had boomeranged his sandals around was giving you much cover. “When I said I don’t see you like a sister I didn’t mean that I don’t see you as a soldier, you earned every rank and medal working your ass twice as hard as any of us had to. I’m proud of you, so don’t think for a minute I’m going to let you see yourself as broken. I meant I don’t see you the same as Sarah- never have, never will.” Tears streamed down your cheeks and you were grateful for the water to cover the hurt Sam seemed hell bent on inflicting at the beginning of your vacation after you missed the hell out of him. “You are my best friend and you’re my family. Harlem’s a place I called home in a way, but when I thought about where I was going to live, I didn’t think about where. Harlem didn’t feel like home anymore without you. I realized home is where my person is. You’re my person.”

Your stomach lurched as you listened, an anxious flip. Feeling like you had to put a stop to the conversation he seemed to be trying to have you stuck your head out from around the curtain. “If you’re trying to tell me you’re in love with me you can cut that shit out right now, Sam Wilson. I know the first VHS you masturbated to and you puked on me at prom, when you got your first promotion, when you saw your first d-.”

“Stop. Stop, I’m not in love with you.” He waved his hand like the l-word was leaving a bad stench under his nose. “It doesn’t mean that I can think of you like a sister, either.”

Leaning back into the shower you shut off the water, hoping that it would freeze his junk off when it was turned back on. “Why? You never seemed to have a problem thinking about me that way in middle school, high school, basic training… When did it change?”

You stepped out in a towel, curls dripping everywhere as you looked at Sam, his frame still blocking your path to the door. “Oh I sure as shit did, even in middle school. You know the first VHS I got off to, but you don’t know the real person I thought about every time I was single? C’mon.”

Scoffing in disbelief you moved to the door. “Lying ass.”

“Oh, so you didn’t think of me once or twice either.” You refused to answer, eyes on the door behind him. It was a tell, he knew your silence was an omission. “When was the last time?” If you gave him an inch, you knew Sam Wilson was good for a mile. A glare, daggers straight up into his dark eyes. “That recently? Since I’ve been back?”

“Why does it matter?”

“It’s a vacation. We have a whole house to ourselves.” Don’t say it. Don’t ruin this. You chanted in your head. “With clear boundaries, as two consenting grown ass adults, why should we be the only people in this house not getting laid?”

Sam was sleeping on the other side of the hall but you’d told him at the pool that both of his siblings had brought people back from their night out and you now knew way too much about what they were into in the sheets. Your eyes fell to his full lips and you inadvertently licked your own. Against your better judgement and before you could bite your tongue you asked, “Clear boundaries?”

You watched his Adam’s apple bob and his tongue run across his lips, wondering if maybe he hadn’t expected you to be game. “All right, obviously we’d stop if one of us started seeing someone, be honest in and out of the bedroom- like always, and stop if feelings get in the mix, no cuddling or staying over naked. Anything else?”

“Grooming and contraception, always.” Sam nodded in agreement and started to pull his clothes off, stepping out of your way and heading toward the shower. Though your gaze followed him it fell to the tile when he slipped his thumbs under the hem of his boardshorts. “What about kissing… like on the mouth?”

“We’ve done it before.” He laughed, starting the shower before getting in and though your eyes had been on the clothes on the floor and his feet you slowly built up the confidence to really look at him.

With his back turned to you it was easy to see why he was more than capable of picking you up with ease. You’d only stollen a glance at his whole frame a few times; the notorious high school streak challenge, a skinny dipping haze in basic, and the unspeakable time you walked into his room after a bad breakup and he was… Well, shaking your head to erase the thought like an Etch A Sketch, you unabashedly stared at his statuesque frame climbing into the shower before climbing onto the bathroom counter. “Do high school dares and spin the bottle really count?”

“You kiss differently when it isn’t a game?” Sam stuck his head back out of the shower and looked you over, studying your expression as he covered himself in shower gel. Guilty, you’d gone all in to make an ex jealous and Sam knew it then and was calling your bluff now. “If you don’t want to we don’t have to.”

“They left, thought we had an argument to work out and said they’d stay out late to make sure we worked it out.” You could practically hear the smirk on his lips on the other side of the curtain and you felt the urge to climb in the shower and wallop him right on his perfect haunches if it wouldn’t solely prove him right.

There was a long silence, but you stayed perched there on the sink, listening to the water, picturing Sam under it, then feeling guilty about it. He wasn’t wrong, you’d thought about him occasionally, more out of him being the only completely decent guy you knew and recent break ups making you not want to think about the last guy you slept with. Getting off to the thought of Sam felt dirty, which made you squirm a little… because it wasn’t wrong, just personal. With your towel riding up over your thick thighs, the cool marble of the sink pressed into the curve of your ass, making you shiver as you rocked your hips a little trying to get more comfortable. Your legs swung back and forth and you looked across the counter for lotion to soothe the heat from the sun and hot shower. “Lotion?” The question was asked as you watched him step out, catching a glimpse at the front of him as he grabbed his towel and tucked it around his waist. Sam reached into the cabinet behind you and put the container shea butter, opening the lid and taking in the scent that was distinctly Sam. “What’s in it?” Musing aloud as you took a bit between your fingers and started to warm it up in your palms before massaging it into your skin.

His eyes drank up the movements as he toweled off, a bit to your dismay as you were enjoying the sight of water shimmering down the dark lines of his stomach. “I always put a few essential oils in there. I think this one I added black spruce and…” He trailed off, coming closer, nudging your knees apart with his hips like he needed the mirror and you were in his way, “birch, maybe.”

The nudge almost sent you falling into the sink and your shea butter covered hands wrapped around him as you let out a fleeting squeal and laugh. You scooted closer to the edge, wrapping your legs around his for leverage. “Well, I guess I’ve got your back.” Laughing you ran your hands up Sam’s damp back, massaging the lotion into his skin, hitting the knots and curves with intention. You couldn’t be sure when he stopped putting lotion on his arms or finished brushing his fingers over the fresh finally-on-leave stubble blossoming on his jaw but he had. His dark brown gaze was on you when you looked up at him and you became aware of your breath on his chest. A smirk drew across your lips, trying not to let yourself be shaken by the look in his eyes. “You good?”

Sam’s response was a grunted ‘mmhm’ as he picked the shea butter back up and started to caress the lotion into your thighs. You froze and it was his turn to ask, “You good?” A challenge, two could play this game.

There was a time you were quick to snap back with witty comments, but determined to abuse the door Sam had opened, you leaned forward the mere inch to his chest, still hot from the shower, and pressed your lips to his skin. He groaned and you smirked. But the playful back and forth torture continued, you massaging Sam’s back, moving lower with every circle, was met with Sam’s own caresses further up your thighs. His hands were under the hem of the towel before yours had reached his ass. Like turning on the green light at a race, your tongue slipped out of your mouth and brushed down his chest to his ribs, where you nipped at the defined muscle. That set him off and what had been quiet moans between the two of you was now a deep growl from Sam. With a casual “oops,” you were really telling him, checkmate.

But two can play that game, his eyes said as they looked straight into your soul. Sam’s fingers pulled open your towel and you bit your lip, letting him have his moment. Your gaze narrowed and you pulled his own off, your tongue running across your lips when his length sprung free. This wasn’t uncharted territory, you’d long since grew out of the uncomfortable in your skin complex that was debilitating and internalized by so many women of your complexion. The tips of your fingers pressed into the cut of muscle over his hips and Sam leaned forward only to groan as your hands curved away from his semi and down his thighs. Your nails scratched gently around the back of his thighs and teased him again by completely avoiding his toned glutes. Impatient with the teasing, Sam’s brushed the back of his fingers over your chest before palming the slope of your breasts. The way your nipples went hard under the slightest attention from the pad of his thumb made the man’s cock twitch in front of you.

If he was determined to keep pushing the line further, then you were determined to push it faster. Your soft hands wrapped around his muscle, stroking him tight and slow. His eyes closed and his mouth opened in a near-silent groan. No talking was needed, you could see the fire moving straight through him and you squirmed on the sink with delight, all too aware of how wet making him hard in your hand was making you wet. Proud of the littlest accomplishment of pleasure, a little victory in a lifetime long list of teasing, you explored the new territory, brushing your thumb in gentle small circles over the tip of his cock. The pad of your thumb came up wet with precum and you looked right at him as you brought your thumb to your lips and sucked the digit clean. Sam’s fingers dug harder into your thighs and you let him pull you not just to the edge of the sink but so that there was no longer space between the two of you.

A whimper passed your lips and your thumb left your mouth with a pop as his cock pressed against your pelvis and stomach; long, thick, and hard and Sam’s expression was just as proud and uncompromising. He rocked his hips and you squeezed your thighs tighter at his sides. There was a fleeting moment where his eyes softened, his mouth opened, and you knew he was going to ask if you were sure- as if there was some way to come back from giving your best friend a boner while you sat naked in his bathroom talking about thinking about just doing this. “I’d like to know if you’re worth the hype.”

“Oh really?” He laughed and smiled up at him. There was no other reason for a protest and, given how wound up the pair of you were from being in dry spells, there wasn’t a need or want for foreplay beyond the introductory touching you’d both fleetingly just engaged in. Pulses rampant, Sam pulled away just enough to line himself up to your entrance, catching a glimpse of your dripping pussy and nearly giving in to bury his face between your thick thighs. A low and slow, “Fuck,” passed Sam’s lips as he pushed himself into your tight passage.

Your giggle became a breathy gasp as he filled you. Swallowing at your surprisingly dry throat you buried your face in his arm and, as your heat stretched to accommodate him you bit gently into his bicep. Whimpering when he slowed further, he took the hint and kept going until he filed you to the hilt. Your dark eyes looked up at him and you ran your tongue up the vein on his arm where you’d left a little bite mark. Placing careful kisses up his arms and across his chest, you moved your hands to the edge of the bathroom’s countertop and bit your lip as you held on and you moved your legs up over his hips, locking at the ankles over his ass. Sam wasted no time, as if just getting to this point had been a marathon of torture. He held onto your waist and what started as a few long thrusts where he made sure you were okay, quickly turned into deep thrusts at a steady pace. “Yes, right there,” the words were a panted plea when he hit the right spot and like a machine he kept driving himself into you, right there, making the bathroom echo with the sound of your moaning and the obscene echo of his cock claiming you.

Tightening around him, Sam was soon groaning with you, both satisfied and wanting more of you. Untangling your legs, he put them over his shoulders. The combination of being completely under his control and the view of his muscles hard at work with the labor of the deep and frantic fuck made your toes curl. Reaching back you pressed a palm into the curve of the sink for more pressure and leverage. Your breasts with every thrust and his eyes moved from your lips to your chest. The way his tongue ran across his full lips, the way he bit his lip, all of it made the coil in your core impatient for release. When he focused on his own pleasure, and you had no leverage to even roll your hips, your mind went static and you begged, “Sam, please. Please, harder! More. I need you.”

To your surprise Sam pushed your legs off his shoulder and thrust hard and deep inside you so that you called out his name and scratched down his back. Then Sam pulled you up off of the sink. Quickly adapting, your legs wrapped tightly around him and you looped your arms around his neck. With Sam’s hands pawing at your thighs and ass, you using your own strength to grind, and him back in a deep rapid thrusts you knew you were going to fall over the edge. He watched you, both of you cursing loudly in the steamy bathroom, “I know you’re close. Look at me.”

Frazzled, you followed the command like a good soldier and it only made his hips rut into you more enthusiastically. Your skin burned against his and you hungrily pulled his mouth to yours and poured in proof that maybe the both of you hadn’t really poured everything into those silly spin the bottle snogs. You couldn’t pull away, the taste of his beer still on his lips and the familiar comforting scent of him enveloped you and you gave in to Sam’s control. Your lips fell from his and your head lulled back, curls sticking to the fresh sweat on your forehead and shoulders as your legs quaked to the point that he had to cling to your thighs as your orgasm quaked through your body. Your moaning quickly turned into bashful laughter, which you stifled by biting your lip as your muscles spasmed around him.

With Sam still inside you, your juices dripping down his muscle, you pulled yourself back against his chest and nipped at his jaw. His dark eyes had been staring at you, an expression you couldn’t decipher. “I didn’t even know I could cum that hard.” Whatever that expression had been on his face now melted back into the look of lust you’d seen painted on his face when he unraveled your towel. You held onto him more tightly as he moved to the wall and pinned you to it. You watched his muscles in the damp mirror as he fervently rutted himself into you. The tips of your fingers caressed the muscles down his back and scratched at as much of his toned ass as you could grab past your own thighs. “No one has ever felt this good inside me.”

Was it positive praise, did he just love a good compliment because he was a cocky bastard, or could he tell that the confession had slipped past your lips in earnest? Sam gently grabbed your jaw and looked at you before pressing his mouth to yours again, sucking at your bottom lip before biting it. The dedicated rhythm of his pumping into you became as starved as his lips, and you could have sworn the wall was going to bruise your back or that someone a block away would come knocking concerned from the noise you two were making. He knew you were close again, that jagged whimper that sputtered into his mouth in gasps as you started to tighten around him. Like a vice, you milked him and he gave into you. Sam’s cock throbbed against your walls and the satisfied feeling of him filling you up brought you closer to the edge. He pressed a soft, finished and fleeting kiss to your lips, closed to pulling out of you and setting you down, utterly exhausted. But you held your thighs tightly around him, reaching between the two of you and teasing your clit until you came again.

As your second orgasm washed over you, Sam had leaned back to watch the whole scene and only bent down to flick his tongue across your nipples which sent a little aftershock through your body. You gave his arm a little teasing smack as he set you down. With shaking legs you laughed as you walked gracelessly to the shower. “Sam, I know we made a pact Freshman year that if we weren’t married by forty we’d tie the knot, but I never thought I’d want to hold you to it.”

Sitting on the bench in the shower you caught your breath, still laughing as your legs continued to shake. “This is going to be one hell of a vacation.”

“Damn straight.” You winked, reaching over to turn the shower on and meeting Sam’s hand. “You getting in?”

He looked you over and leaned against the wall, the cool water blasting some reality into your sense before it warmed up, “Now I am.” You both laughed and he got in, taking over the shower heads full flow of water. “Now let me clean you up while I catch my breath.”

Biting your lip you nodded, watching his soap covered rough hands move with tenderness back up your thighs, teasing you he pulled down the shower head. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I? No one’s here but us,” He leaned down, lips brushing your ear, “You managed to walk into the shower, I clearly haven’t finished.”

Before you could protest the high pressure of the shower head was between your legs and your hands were clutching his biceps. Closing your eyes, you could only manage to helplessly say one word, maybe tomorrow you’d worry about it sounding like I love you, “Sam.”

he’s not mine | jeff wittek

dad!jeff wittek x reader

summary: helping jeff raise his son was fun until she came back

warnings: angst, fluff, many mistakes

2.5k words

oliver was born may 28th, 2017

december 8th, 2017

y/n gave jeff a small smile as she stepped into his apartment, many baby toys were scattered across the floor along with camera equipment. she admired the cozy apartment, way bigger than hers but it felt homey. “i’m really sorry about this, i was completely rushing this morning and couldn’t realize i picked up the wrong phone.” she apologized as she handing jeff his phone back, thinking about the simple mistake she made this morning.

“i’m almost there!” y/n whispered into her phone. “please, stall a little bit longer, i didn’t think smoothies took this long.” she walked up to the counter, slamming her phone down, her foot tapped at a rapid pace as she wanted for her drinks to be done. y/n was so anxious she didn’t even notice the beautiful stranger place his phone right next to her own when he started to order. 

“y/n?” her eyes lit up when the man called her name, she quickly got her drinks, phone, and a few napkins before she raced out of there. it wasn’t until after her presentation did y/n realize she had taken the wrong phone, the screensaver wasn’t hers, the text messages coming through sure weren’t hers and the phone numbers looked unfamiliar. she started going into panic mode, how was she supposed to get through the day without her phone or let alone knowing who had her phone. 

she recognized her number pop up on the screen, she rushed out of class without a word, causing all heads to turn towards her but she could care less. y/n had important information on that phone she didn’t want getting out. “hello?” she answered, her voice shaking a bit.

the stranger was quiet for a few seconds. “i didn’t think thieves answered the phone they stole or left their own behind.” the masculine voice responded causing a wave a relief to flood over y/n.

“i promise i wasn’t trying to steal your phone! i was in a rush this morning and i didn’t even notice- i really wasn’t trying to steal anything-” she stopped rambling when she heard a low chuckle come from the opposite line. “i promise i wasn’t.” 

“i figured, i’m just messing with you.” he said, still continuing to laugh. “uh, so y/n, are you free right now to switch back? i can text you the address,” he asked after gaining his composure. y/n quickly answered with a yes, climbing into her car. her anxiety grew as she got closer to the stranger’s house, y/n already knew he had seen her private messages, she didn’t have a password on her phone and was not logged out of any of her social media accounts. but she was slightly relieved for her irresponsibility because he wouldn’t have been able to call her otherwise.

“you should probably pay a little bit more attention next time.” he teased, grabbing her phone off the kitchen table, returning it to her. although he was supposed to be filming a video he did find humor behind the situation, how many times do you run into someone with an identical phone and case as you. “and you should probably put a password on your phone.”

y/n sighed, starring down at the floor. “how much did you see?” 

“enough to know you’re in deep shit.” jeff decided not to sugarcoat it for this girl. it was not looking great for her. “i mean cmon’ sleeping with your professor- and in no way am i trying to pry but it just seems a little too risky.” 

“i know, i know, i’m just right at the end and he’s threatening me. i just can’t go down this close to the end.” y/n explained and it was all true, he paid for her housing, tuition, and held her future right in the palm of his hand. she didn’t know why she was explaining this to a guy she just met but he was as of now the only person that knew. she told him about how her professor is blackmailing her, about her father’s will opening when she graduates, the perfect job waiting for her when she gets out of college and he just sat there listening like it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

for the first time in a long time, jeff realized people who came from well-supported backgrounds could have complicated lives as well. they were interrupted by the loud wails of his son in the bedroom. jeff excused him before returning with a baby in his arms. he watched as y/n’s eyes light up at the chubby baby cuddling into his father. “you like babies?”

“like would be an understatement, i love babies!” she gushed, trying to contain her excitement while starring at the child. jeff walked over to y/n, gently placing his son in her arms. she gladly took him but looked up at jeff as if asking for permission, he gave her a grin before going back to his seat across the couch. y/n placed the baby’s feet on her knees as she admired his adorable face. “you might be the cutest baby i’ve ever seen, look at your cheeks.” her baby voice surfaced when she started talking to the baby, completely ignoring his father. he let out a toothless grin, showing off his gums. “are you smiling? are you happy?” 

“his name is oliver.” 

y/n lifted oliver off of her lap, setting him back on her lap. “hello, oliver. aren’t you just the cutest?” olive squealed again, earning a giggle from y/n. “yes, yes you are.”

june 17th, 2018

“no, please, please tell me it’s not more clothes,” jeff cried, watching y/n walk into the apartment with numerous bags dangling around her arms. ever since the pair became official y/n had taken it into her own hands to spoil oliver and jeff occasionally. she had become the motherly figure in his life, curing jeff of being a single father. 

y/n dropped all her bags directly on the floor by the front door, along with her jacket and purse to see her little sunshine who was playing with a yellow school bus and firetruck on the floor next to jeff. “hi, baby!” she said lifting him off the floor. “did you eat this morning?” she scratched his belly before turning to jeff, he gave her a thumbs-up without even tearing his eyes away from the computer screen. y/n rolled her eyes returning her attention back to oliver who remained swinging his truck around in the air. “do you wanna have a fashion show for your daddy? i think he would like that, wouldn’t he? we could show off our new clothes.”

jeff’s ears perked at her words but he didn’t look at her, he would have plenty of time for that. it’s why he played extra hard with oliver and let him stay up an hour past his nap time. alone time for the couple didn’t come often with a baby, even though they always seemed to find time for it. always. 

even though jeff hated y/n buying oliver new clothes almost every week, he had to admit he always looked adorable in them. he would constantly say his son could pull off anything, which was true. the last outfit was a sleeper with bear ears on the hood, bears on the feet and a brown fluffy tail on the butt. oliver was becoming cranking and begging to be put in his crib, even he could feel the sexual tension rising from the two. 

january 10th, 2019

“okay, one last present.” jeff said, pulling out a bag from behind the counter. y/n furrowed her eyebrows together as she looked at the yellow bag, she had told jeff not to go overboard and he had already given her an abundance of gifts, she really had no idea what this could be. she plucked the variety of colored papers out of the bag before reaching her hand into the bag, her hand was met with a soft fabric. 

“a onesie, oh jee, thanks. is this your pregnancy announcement?” y/n was sarcastic because she was still beyond confused what jeff was doing.

“shut up and turn it around.” 

y/n did as she was told, turning the onesie towards her face. to say she was shocked was an understatement, many emotions ran through her brain while reading the text. 

‘yeah i’m cute, i get it from my mama’

jeff and y/n had never actually talked about what oliver was going to address her as when he started talking, so for jeff to surprise her with this made her heart spin like crazy. y/n ran from her seat to hug him, soft sobs coming from her lips, mixed with a series of thank-yous.  

november 21st, 2019

jeff walked in the kitchen with a towel around his waist, scrolling mindlessly through his phone, little droplets of water fell from his hair onto his toned chest. y/n’s mouth watered as she stared at her boyfriend, she wanted nothing more than to push him back into the shower with her but she had more pressing matters at the moment. mini jeff. she had been trying to get oliver to eat all morning but he was settled on throwing it her instead of eating. 

“ollie, baby, please eat this,” she begged, a small whine leaving her lips. he was already not eating enough, underweight, and not talking. he was just turned two. all the doctors gave the same the response:

“he’s just a little behind, wait a few weeks.”

“don’t worry he’ll be talking in no time.”

“everything will be okay, just give it time.” 

jeff and y/n were tired of giving it time, the suspense was eating away at them, they really just wanted to know how to help oliver. 

y/n gave up on trying to get the baby boy to eat and instead let him play with his toys on the floor. jeff reentered the room, with clothes on this time. “stop worrying, please.” he said, kissing her forehead a few times, y/n went to defend herself but jeff cut her off. “i can see the worry of your face. we’ll be fine, go help erin and carly, we’re having a boys weekend.” she looked up at her boyfriend, pouting. she didn’t want to leave the boys, y/n has grown very attached to both of them. “go, before they kick my ass for holding you here for so long.” 

2 days later

y/n had a lot of fun even though she was away from her boys but she was reading by the end of the weekend to go home. she missed her bed. erin and carly were horrible roommates, y/n couldn’t see how they lived together, they both snored extremely loud and kicked anyone in the bad next to them. but no amount of back pain could have prepared her for what she was about to walk into. the first thing y/n noticed when she trailed into the house was the play pin surround oliver, she thought they had agreed he didn’t need one, the second was the smell, it smelt strongly of lavender in through the apartment. y/n hated lavender with a passion, it caused a rash to form on her chest whenever she was around it.

“are you the babysitter?” a woman’s voice brought y/n out of her thoughts. “i don’t know what time you usually come but we don’t need you anymore,” she spoke dry and uninterested, the woman was cleaning out a new set of bottles, ones with strange nipples oliver didn’t like. 

y/n decided to ignore the lady, she didn’t care about her. she wanted to see her baby and jeff. she made her way over to the play pin, oliver squealed when he saw, waddling his way to edge. y/n willingly wrapped the boy in her arms, breathing in his familiar shampoo. at least that didn’t change. 

“what are you doing? i told you to leave- jeff!” the woman was beginning to grow frustrated with y/n, especially when she reached for her baby. both females watched jeff scurry into the room, looking for a problem but his eyes only met y/n’s confused stare. “she won’t leave, tell her we don’t need a nanny anymore.” 

jeff turning to the woman as she continued to bitch. “just give me one second.” that was a straight jab to the chest for y/n, he didn’t even deny this crazy lady’s allegation and was starting to piece together who she was. “can we talk so a quick moment outside?” he asked, walking over to the girl. 

“that’s-” 

jeff began but y/n cut him off quickly. “polly? yeah, i figured.” y/n clutched tighter onto oliver, she was growing more and more afraid of losing him at this moment. “why is she here, jeff?”

“she wants to be in his life again, she said she was finally ready to be a mom.” he explained, oblivious to y/n’s breaking figure. “she texted me a few days back saying she wanted to meet him so i invited her over and they really did click.” y/n sighed sadly, she knew what was going to happen.

“so what? she wanted to meet up with ollie, our ollie ironically the weekend i was gone.” her sadness was morphing with anger, this isn’t fair to her. “god, jeff! what the fuck! she broke your heart and she’ll break his too, just wait! she wants your money! people like her don’t change!” she didn’t even notice she was crying into oliver reached up to touch a stray tear, her heart was splitting in half and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. 

she watched as his soft eyes turning angry. “i changed, did i not. or do you think i’m just like her, huh.” he seethed, defending polly like she had stuck with him through everything with their son. “just like the mother of my child?” 

neither of them said anything for a long time, starring at one another wait for a counter. “i’m so stupid, so, so stupid.” she mumbled, y/n wiped the tears off her face before looking up at jeff. “what was this? was i some substitute while you waited for who you really wanted? oh my god, i gave up my whole life for you guys, i-i literally don’t have anything.” her breathing started to grow heavier and suddenly she went back right to the day she first met jeff, panicking in her class because she thought she had lost everything. y/n choked on a sob, suddenly handing oliver to jeff before sprinting down the hall.

 y/n left jeff there wondering if he had made the right decision, she left him there having to watch his son cry for his mama, she left him there with a hole in his heart polly couldn’t fill. the only thing polly could fill was her wallet.