#just up there on the moon like ''i hate my colleague. i hate him''

[echthr0s]

sweet merciful baby jesus 👀💀

[cxffecoupx]

realizing that they're in love with you

seventeen × gn reader fluff, svt being soft for s/o, comfort warnings: mentions of food, alcohol word count: 1.4k author's notes: my first ever requested article. to the anon who sent me this, i love you so much and thank you so so much for sending it in, i hope you like it, and i'm so sorry it took so much time, my brain was smoked for a bit😭 but i absolutely loved writing it. i had to read similar stuff by other svt writers (mainly @emocheol how seventeen realized you were ‘the one’ and @suhnshinehaos the soft italicized 'oh' moment) to get into it. please do check them out too, i love it!!

➼ choi seungcheol

seungcheol had come home late in the evening, tired and exhausted. work was rough, the boys were chaotic, and all he wanted now was some peace and quiet. the moment he sees you at home, however, all his stress just melts away. you're just there, smiling at him, asking about his day, but he already feels so much better. and when you stay up all night, sitting with him and helping him work through his troubles, that's when it hits him. he wants you by his side as his support, forever.

➼ yoon jeonghan

you both were out for dinner with your friends. two hours and 3 glasses of beer in, the chatter had cooled down into private conversations. you were talking to one of your colleagues when you notice jeonghan zoning out in the middle of the gathering. realising he's run out of his social battery, you say your goodbyes and stand up, and drag a drowsy han back to your car. it's not until the next morning that jeonghan understands everything and smiles to himself. a person who deciphers him state of mind? maybe you were his best match after all.

➼ hong jisoo

jisoo had gone to his hometown for some two weeks to spend with his mom. he was so excited for it he didnt even notice how much you hated him leaving you. he had been quite busy during his vacation, meeting friends, spending time with mom, but something kept troubling his mind. something he had no answer for. even the voice calls and facetimes didnt help. then he returns and sees your face among all other blurred people and smiles. he never wants to stay away from you, he realises.

➼ moon junhui

between work and practice, jun hadnt really noticed his birthday approaching. coming home after work one day, a familiar scent welcomes him. he goes to the kitchen to find a pot of simmering hotpot broth and its ingredients sliced and kept aside. with the emotions flooding in with every whiff, he doesnt notice you hugging him from the back while singing a 'happy birthday' softly, and turning him around to kiss a gentle kiss on his forehead. he has no words to say; he only embraces you tight and cries on your shoulder as the members, who had arrived a little after him on your request, watch. he doesnt say anything, his eyes conveying that he's grateful for everything you've done

➼ kwon soonyoung

if you ask his friends, kwon soonyoung was a very weird person. he says he's an introvert (well, his MBTI said that), but he's as extroverted as they get. he pretends to be a tiger most of the times and his behaviour is VERY unpredictable. everyone thought he'd be difficult to tolerate or balance out. but then you came along. now they've got two very weird people to deal with. they had talked to soonyoung how he'd met his match, but he never thought more of it, until he sees you with his friends and sees something of himself in the way you are with them. he'd finally found someone who'd match his weird.

➼ jeon wonwoo

wonwoo's camera roll was full. which only meant one thing: time to save all the pics to his laptop. he inserts the sd card into the computer and opens the file. his face instantly lights up. you had always been shy in front of camera lens. meeting wonwoo was one of the best moments of your life, but it still took time for you to adjust to his captures. that didn't stop him from considering you his muse, the one he's love to click again and again and again. seeing you smiling in the pictures he took warmed his heart. you could be camera shy, but he only ever loved capturing you.

➼ lee jihoon

jihoon is a workaholic through and through. he wouldnt think twice about missing food and sleep if its to get his work done. you'd often complained about him working saturdays too. imagine the surprise his team had when he called in to announce a day off. like, what caused the mighty lee jihoon to take a day off on a saturday?? the answer was at his home, lying between his arms, a sleepy you that had cuddled your way into his arms in the early morning hours. he'd fallen in love watching you be so comfortable with him. you'd convinced him to stay home once in a while.

➼ lee seokmin

company celebrations usually always ended with fireworks. and usually, you watched it with everyone else in the hall. but this time, seokmin arranged for the keys of the roof for you two to have a better and private view of the sparklers. you sneak in with him, giggling and tripping over your own feet in the dark as you reach the roof to see the spectacular show. you walk ahead, mind blown by how much more beautiful it looked from up here. but seokmin had his eyes locked on something else. you. he'd rather admire you than watch the fireworks.

➼ kim mingyu

food was mingyu's love language. he absolutely LOVED cooking food and feeding it to his loved ones. but since after he met you, he realised he especially loved cooking for you. he loved cooking your comfort food for you. he cooked your mom's recipes when he felt that you missed home a little too much. he loved to listen to your comments when he experimented with the ingredients. it's during one such preparation when it dawned on him. he'd love to make food for you for a very long time.

➼ xu minghao

you'd always been mesmerised hearing hao speak chinese. he doesnt use it very much; pretty much only when he's calling his family or sometimes when speaking with junhui, who's also from china. to say chinese was becoming second to him wouldnt be false because he's using so much korean in his daily life. one day, while walking around the house, he hits his toe on the couch and lets out a sharp curse in his mother tongue. you gasp and say "oh my! hao just cursed," and hao quickly turns his head towards you. it's not what you said, it was how you said it that surprised him. you had responded to him in chinese?? you explain to him how you started taking small classes in learning chinese so that he could converse comfortably with you too. you even asked him to help you. hao swore once again, but in his head. someone was ready to go to such lengths for him? he's truly fallen in love with you.

➼ boo seungkwan

seungkwan had begged for you to stay overnight. it was difficult of course, because you both were tired from work. but when he pulls the ultimate puppy eyes, you couldn't really refuse. you went through an elaborate routine of doing skincare and bathing as a way of relaxing, and watching sappy sitcoms until you both fell asleep to the white noise of the tv. seungkwan woke up first, but his breath hitched seeing you asleep next to him. apart from the little snores and a string of drool from the corner of you mouth, you looked so adorable, snuggled in next to him; so tiny, and so so cute. he stayed there, watching you, silently wishing he could see you like this every morning.

➼ chwe hansol

everyone says hansol has a weird sense of humour. it's not that he doesn't make good jokes, it's just that no one reacts in the way he wishes. so when he goes, "why did the bicycle take a nap? because it was two-tiered" and you end up crying of laughter among the dead silence of his friends, he feels a blush creep up his cheeks. someone who laughs at his corny jokes? that has to be the soulmate he never believed in.

➼ lee chan

chan cannot deny that he loves smiling. laughing. chuckling. he loves to be filled with happiness at all times. whether it's through his own jokes, or his friends' crazy antics, he wishes to be happy most of the time. that's how he realises one day that being with you makes him smile automatically. there is absolutely no specific reason. seeing you, talking to you, listening to you talk about anything and everything. no matter what you do, you always manage to bring a smile to his face. he doesnt really understand it though, how it happens. but one thing's for sure. he wishes to remain happy with you always.

[hoseoksluna]

ICHOR | jjk

pairing: idol!boyfriend!jungkook x f. reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.4k

summary: after a bad day at work, you lose a sense of yourself and jungkook leads you right back to her.

warnings: crying, capitalism, death metaphors, sadness, jungkook is sweaty and is wearing that nike shirt he wore in his working out live, has fluffy hair!

note: hiii, bubbas, so this is fluff fic is partly for @frmisnow bc she inspired me to write this & i also want to make her feel better with this sacchariny-sweet jungkook, partly for me bc i genuinely wrote in detail about what i went through at work these past two days. and, also, for all you guys because i made you go through reading about such evil jungkook in my last berries fic. i hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think. here's to a bit of happiness in our lives *cheers with an imaginary glass of imaginary pink, glittery, strong, fairy alcohol*. <3

You used to be a goddess, the ichor in your veins carried the color of roses, glinted with flecks of gold that would radiate your skin from beneath, make any heads turn, especially the one you loved the most. Customers at work smiled upon seeing your cordial aura, close-knit even though they were mere strangers, preferred to go to you amidst the flock of your other colleagues around. They would become radiated just the same, joy so terribly evident on their faces as their smile would grow. They would frown upon seeing the state of you at this current moment—curled up on your bed while the heat of the beginning of the summer clings to your near bareness, coming through your wide opened windows, the white, translucent curtains billowing up and down in their strange, but magnolious dance. 

You’re not Aphrodite. You’re not Euphrosyne, the goddess of joy and mirth, either. 

You’re the slain fawn at their feet—for their very own feast and for the feast of those aforementioned customers, who stand behind the dryly bloodied cause of your death. 

Work was hell, to say the least. 

You always thought death was a kind embrace, not a tight clasp of doom around the nape of your neck, your mental strain and disquietude the half moon marks that ever so slowly deepen. You mimic the movement on the hem of the linen shirt you wore for the day, one that you were too drowsy to take off when you arrived at home, having only a slight wisp of an energy to rid yourself of the uncomfortable tightness of your jeans and crawl onto your bed, knees to chest, on your side. You bunch up the fabric in your fist, wrinkling it, but you hardly vanquish the cuts that your anxiety slashes on your skin. You thought it would alleviate you of your tenseness, but as it seems—it only worsened it. 

You don’t even have tears to shed. Wept them all out in your manager’s office while she harshly, yet calmly reprimanded you for your mistake and the gravity of the fact that you almost lost your precious job, that you can’t imagine living without, washed over you and pained you like a splash of salty water in your eyes. Wept them all out when you breathed in the crooked, paralyzed expression of disappointment in her face—and that’s the sole thing that emptied out your system of that ichor, wiped out your reputation of being a good, reliable employee that everybody liked. 

Now the next unfolding of your days spent at work shall be filled with silent judgements and secretive gossip, the big talk of the entire building—something that will hang by the strands of your hair for every head to turn to until something else comes along. Another topic, another fuck-up. That’s the face of modern capitalism, the absurdity of day-to-day normalcy its features, and you’re so sick, so repulsed to be staring at it every single day of your life that you yearn to not be anymore. 

Death has flattened over you, but has not finished its job. It was Dante who described the process of hell in his Divine Comedy and you hate him for the rotten pulchritude of his mind because you find yourself to be standing in the middle of inferno with no guide—no Virgil, no Beatrice—to hold your hand and lead you through this scalding maze. You’re all alone, your mistake carving the branches of the trees burning down in your hell over your burdened, heavy heart that has been longing for the company of another ever since you walked out of your manager’s office. 

Your face screws as another agonized emotion rises in you. You can’t stand your aloneness, can’t stand your burden—and before you realize what you’re doing, your fingers have already tapped on your boyfriend’s name in your history of calls. The screen of your phone is cool against the fever of your cheek and you rub your face harder against your duvet, staining the strawberry pattern with the particular tinge of your makeup, which must have been the color of your ichor. 

You wince, the rings prolonging in your ear, your impatience running thin. 

Then, your heart drops once you hear the broken whisper of your Beatrice, faintly, barely, which causes your heart to spread its longing. Damn iPhones and their bad service. 

“Jungkook?” you call out, nonsense coming through the other end—and you repeat his name until his voice smooths out, relief sinking in like a stone in a pond. 

It turns out you were exchanging each other’s names and the intimacy of it curls the smallest of smiles on your mouth. You miss him; you need him. 

“When are you coming home?” you ask, wishing to descend into the emitting waves of the call, slide through them until you spring to wherever he is, no matter how tired you are—you’re willing to cross the distance. 

You hear him turn on his blinker and your heart almost does it for you. 

“I’m driving home right now. I’ll be there in ten,” he says and your relief expands in your chest, taking a small weight off of your heart. You place your palm against it. 

“Okay.” 

A beat of silence. 

“Why do you sound so sad?” 

Your mouth curls downwards. “Something happened at work.” 

An inhale of breath. “Screw that, baby. I’ll be there in five, okay?” 

A whimper. “Okay, drive safe.” 

And your Beatrice didn’t lie to you. Soon, you hear the banging of the front door closing, the tossing of his keys and the prodding open of your shared bedroom door. The hastened footsteps, hefty on the floating floor, the squeak of the mattress as his knee dips on it and the glide of his hand up your thigh. All before you use the last of your strength to focus your swimming vision on him. 

Hearing him alone helped you take a step further in your inferno. 

And then you can smell him. The scent of sweat clinging to his favorite ivory Nike shirt, interlaced with his natural, poetic scent, creating something divine that blesses you with the strength to place your palm on top of his hand. Your coworkers hugged you earlier, clasped your hands in theirs in reassurement and more than welcome it, you absolutely despised it. Lingered in their affection only because you thought you should let yourself be consoled, for you know they care about you. But his touch… that’s not something you sense your body to want to run away from. On the contrary, it seems to be something that it’s missing. 

You can’t part the stream of your new tears with your other hand. 

You spill, completely. 

Jungkook coos, squeezing the bare flesh of your thigh as turns you onto your back and nudges himself between them, plopping his body on top of yours. And then, he’s kissing the place your undone shirt made for him, trailing his lips up your neck, where he stays, where he conjures a garden of fluttering gardenias, their tender petals tickling you. 

“What did they do to my princess?” he murmurs against your skin, his words muffled but heard clearly by your ears. You sob, your chest shuddering in violent staccatos against his, unable to settle, unable to speak. Jungkook lifts his small head and frowns, his thumb swiping your tears away while the rest of his four fingers cradle your cheek. You lean into the balmy safety of the realm of his palm, gaze fixed on the wrinkle between his brows, mouth letting out puffs of soft, gentle exhales. He kisses your chin, the corner of your mouth, the wetness of your other cheek—buries his nose into it, right beside yours, inhaling you, giving you fresh air to breathe in. “Don’t cry. I’m gonna decapitate them.” 

The whisper, the hand that parted the stream. You whimper and he steals the traces of your despondency, pecking the new, smooth surface, planting roses to bloom, its roots bestowing you with the ability of speech. 

Two sentences, two miles further in the inferno. Your burnt down trees are lost in the far distance, swallowed by the fire, yet the forest shows every sign of growing anew the longer Jungkook’s heart beats against your breast. 

He’s so benevolently patient with you, not rushing you with your explanation. It all the more drives you to disclose it to him—and you open your mouth to speak, your fingers following suit, helping you with your words as you drag them through the soft mop of his fluffy hair. 

“I made a mistake yesterday while closing up,” you croak out, licking your lips. Jungkook lifts himself onto his elbows, clutching your shoulders, keeping the close proximity intact. His warm grip is a stability you lean on, one you appreciate with every broken shard in you. “I did it five minutes earlier and somebody came in. I sent them away and they filed a complaint against me. They wrote an email to my manager and I… I almost lost my job.”

The wrinkle between his brows deepens and you thumb it, wishing it away. You don’t want to mar his beautiful face because of your foolishness; you want it to remain that soft ball of light that he always is, but then you realize you’re asking for the impossible. His mouth flattens, pity flashes across his round eyes, which helps you perceive that if he didn’t react like this, he wouldn’t love you—and his love is the air you breathe; his love is the ointment you need for your sadness. 

As if he heard you, he kisses you delicately and you sail—skip the purgatory and land in paradiso, a meadow of wildflowers overlooking a cliff that opens the restfulness of the sea, scattered with windswept petals of those lost blossoms, coloring the surface with pinks, whites and the greens of their leaves. 

“Did your manager yell at you?” Jungkook questions, his lips lifted a millimeter above yours, his thumbs fondling the fabric of your shirt upon your shoulders. 

“No, but she was very strict with me. Told me not to cry—”

His breath wafts over your face when he looks into your eyes, displeased. “She made you cry?” 

You cried because through her words you comprehended the gravity of your mistake and its repercussions, not because she deliberately used them to open the dam of your emotions. It’s precisely why she told you not to cry, giving you a hint of her perpetually nonexistent compassion. And you tell him. 

“No, she didn’t. She was very professional with me and made me realize what I did after I apologized. I cried because I was so scared of losing my job, of disappointing her and shit like that.” 

Jungkook purses his lips, shaking his head, curly strands rippling like the tremor of leaves. “She should’ve dropped it after you apologized. Five minutes is nothing, baby. You did nothing to deserve to be treated like that.” 

Your chest heaves, his love and reassurement sifting sand into your bloodstream, the color of ichor. “I know but… you know,” you trail off, indicating the realm of respect all peers must have for the management that you don’t really want to venture into, not when Jungkook had to deal with it as well in his music company. But unlike you, he broke out of its clutches. It cost him tears, frustration and weight loss, but now he’s a free bird of paradise. You don’t wish to make him remember his cage. 

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah, baby, I know, which is why I’m telling you that you didn’t deserve that.” 

Your chin quivers, the negative thoughts that wore you down in his absence returning at full speed. “It affects my mental health when I’m bad at my job.” 

Brows rounding upwards, his eyes flick to your chin, a glossy wetness coating them. He pecks it before he gazes into your irises. “But you’re not bad at your job. You just closed a few minutes earlier. You’re amazing at your job. You make people happy. I’ve seen it with my own eyes,” he says, meaning every word with the way he presses each one into your pupils. You feel its magnetism and you take it. “And I’m proud of you. Every day. You work so hard. Come home tired every day. Deal with people who aren’t always nice to you with kindness that I envy. I’m proud of you, you hear me? You didn’t make a mistake. You did good.”

And there it is, the stampede of your bloodstream—Jungkook has seeped the entirety of the sand until he emptied out his hand and your ichor charges forward, its light like a bud flaring open beneath your skin. And you're floating on that sea in paradiso, your braid adorned with the wet petals that swims back and forth to his arm that holds your body steady upon the surface, the names of the Greek goddesses lining every perimeter, sinking within. 

You’ve become them, all over again. 

“Thank you, Ggukie,” you whisper, running your hand through the front bangs of his hair, gripping them. It’s as if you’re holding the petals. “I needed to hear that.” 

He pouts, touched by the love name. “I know. You need to rest now after such an emotionally exhausting day. No more tears, okay?” 

You nod, feeling whole, feeling like you can face tomorrow with more courage. “Okay.” 

You pout, mimicking him, asking for a kiss and he gives it to you in that same delicate manner, plunging the entirety of the summer’s heat, molded by his hands, into you, making it bearable for you. 

Looks at you for a long time, after. Smiling. 

“You know, I didn’t take a shower after the gym for you,” he says, quirking a smile on your face.

You’re intimately acknowledged with the reason why, yet still you ask: “Why’s that?” 

He reciprocates the smile. “I thought you’d help me wash up. My muscles are sore and all. I lifted the double amount of your body weight.” 

You bite your lip. You’re willing to wash every inch of him with your utmost care. You deem he deserves it for enlivening you, but you’d much rather stay here, inhaling that dizzying scent of him. 

“I’ll do that, but let’s stay here for a little while.” 

Jungkook nods, kissing your jaw before he finds a comfortable place on your bosom, listening to the rush of your ichor, the sun rays upon the sea of that paradiso, inching you closer and closer to God. Augments the ending of that Divine Comedy. 

Doesn’t lead you to the final installment of death, but pushes you to life full of that brisk wind, the humming of the sea and the song of swaying wildflowers. 

Holds your hand. 

Doesn’t let go. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

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[crazilust]

My thoughts on these placements

based on my last lover. PSA: this might be biased. don’t take it TOO seriously, it’s mostly for me to purge this relationship. LETS GOOOOOOO !!

1. Gemini rising

Have you ever felt hella special to someone and then you see them interact with someone else and you’re like “oh. i’m… i’m just another one of their friends.” this is what it feels to be around a gemini rising sometimes. most of the ones I know, are either extremely popular, know alot of people or at the very least just hang out regularly with a bunch of people (might just be colleagues and not necessarily friends but they’re often surrounded). And they have this way of making you feel special, and funny and entertaining but most of the times, they’re the ones controlling the discussion and the flow of it.

when it came to my ex, he knew so many people and every person he was interacting with, he knew a little detail about them, and it made the person care so much about him. Even though he didn’t as much. Somewhat flimsy, it’s hard to know a Gemini rising’ true intentions with you.

2. Sagittarius sun

Sags don’t have the best reputation in my book, and he certainly didn’t help the stereotypes. The thing with Sags sun that I find hard to understand is the constant lie they have between who they truly are and who they want to be. It’s a constant battle of “don’t look too hard into my flaws bc soon enough I’ll be this grandiose super star and therefore you can forget about the awkward nerd you have in front of you.” Most of them are nerds, truly. But they hate it. As opposed to Aquarius sun’s desire to be different and their ability to stand on their two feet even tho they’re being outcast, a Sag sun’s deepest fear is to be seen as the weirdo they are. (that unfortunately they associated with being a loser)

If you’ve never been close with a Sag, you’ll be the first to deny this claim. “What?? The Sag I met was THE life of the party! No weirdo here.” or “The Sag I met was a boss ass btch, she had everything under control and very educated!!”

And that, my friends, is what we call a front. Sure, they can be the life of the party, usually very keen on getting their diplomas, but if you don’t know them, that’s the only part of them you’ll get to see cause it’s the part they deem acceptable.

I’m not even gonna comment on the commitment issues, cause yall… you know it already lmao.

3. Virgo moon

Nobody hates an underdeveloped virgo moon more than they hate themselves. So critical, judgemental and harsh. They notice absolutely everything that you do and instead of going to you and confront you about the issue, they’ll keep it in, and throw it back to your face the minute it’s convenient for them (when they effed up). Very hard to love because they simply can’t accept that you love and accept their own flaws. I remember my ex asking me litteraly all the time “How can you love me if I’m not as pretty as before” (it was in his head, he was just as cute) “How can you love me if I don’t have a job?” (He had lost his job for only 2 months at that point) No matter what I’d say, he couldn’t believe that I loved him wholeheartedly, no matter what.

Sometimes, when I look at a virgo moon, unevolved ofc, all I can see is pain. Virgo is an already hard sign to have imo (sorry!) but in the moon placement, it’s just sad. These natives are so harsh on themselves and accept no help whatsoever. And if you do try, they’ll do everything to push you away and trust me, one thing Virgos do is succeed.

4. Libra Mars

As a scorpio mars, libra mars is not my favorite placement. But as I checked my vedic chart and I do, in fact, have a libra mars, I hate that I understand why they act the way they do.

They care so much about everything being perfect, everyone getting along and most importantly being at peace with the ones they love. The cliches are true for a reason, they dislike conflict and yes, are passive agressive but it’s because they don’t want to lose the people they love with petty drama.

So they don’t say anything, and they accomodate even tho that one thing irritated them and then when you confront them about something, they bring you everything you’ve done wrong for the past six months. That’s the part I hate, ofc, but I also hate that I get it.

I get it. They’re the biggest people pleasers and when they don’t say anything about something that upsets them, they actually think they’re doing it for the greater good. They obviously analyse everything you’re doing wrong, but they don’t mind not saying it cause they’d rather be at peace with you. So how dare you don’t do the same for them?

That’s the mentality. Unfortunately for them, it brings bigger conflict because then you feel betrayed they never said anything to begin with. UGH.

SPEAK YOUR MIND, Libras of any placements actually <3

5. Sagittarius Mercury

If you consider yourself soft, delicate, sensitive, do not date a Sag mercury. These people are ruthless. As friends, I find them hilarious and fun to be around, but as lovers I would never do that to myself again. Just never <3. They are very blunt (which doesn’t mean they won’t lie! We’re talking about a Jupiter ruled sign here yall), but in a way that won’t make you feel good about yourself. They’ll often use humour to attack you and then use it as a shield the moment you call them out on it (i.e : It was just a jokeeeeee!)

Gives very good advice, I’ll give them that. I think sometimes I can have a little bit of tunnel vision and with Sag mercuries, they’re able to tap you on the shoulder and be like “Have you consider this tho?” in the most casual way and you’re like “oh.. no. yes. you’re right”

6. Aquarius Venus

If you love the friends to lovers trope, you’ll just love dating an Aquarius venus because that friendship-like relationship will be the foundation of your dynamic. Everything feels fun, the complicity is at an all time high.

But the commitment.

Now, I’ve read multiple times here that Aquarius venus is actually very committed to the person they love when they like you. Well, I guess I wasn’t his person cause I only felt the commitment phobia.

Anyways, I still loved the dynamic of the relationship, but I can’t lie, it didn’t feel serious at all.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~••~•~•~•~•~•

Well that’s all for me, today. Love yall!!

Remember, these are the big 6 of my ex so it is biased nothing to take too personal but if it applies and resonates, great💛

B.

[wooziorgans]

moon song || ljh

warnings: post breakup au. ex idol!reader. reader has an implied suicide attempt(s) in the past. reader is implied to do something akin to relapsing at the end of the fic. ed talk. lots of pressure that comes w being an idol. clubs. drinking. seungcheol hates y/n for leaving. leaving the idol industry behind. seeing your ex after four years. hurt w very little comfort. right person, wrong time.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: vent piece mostly. abt my frustration of still being sick, abt my frustration of not seeming to get better, abt how it never seems to stop. abt all of my wasted potential as a person. all of it, none of it, everything and nothing at all. i am so tired.

please read with caution. this is just a lot of emotions all in one place.

The loud bass that hits your head as soon as you enter the club makes your head pound immediately. It’s been four long years since you’ve even been in this part of Seoul, let alone been in a club with this group of ex-colleagues.

Ex-colleagues is certainly one way to put it. They were all so much more, and you know that this is just an excuse for all of them to get drunk. You wonder briefly if Jihoon’s here. He never used to drink, but then again, he didn’t do a lot of things until you were in the picture. You wonder how much has changed now that you’re not.

The memory of him burns like a hot iron branding your back, and you head to the nearest table of refreshments to grab a drink. If he’s here, you’ll need all the alcohol you can get your hands on. Maybe that makes you no better than anyone else; no better than the scene you so desperately needed to leave four years ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.

You’re no longer apart of it. What you do now won’t cost you your career. If the night ends with you passed out in an alley way simply because you saw your ex at an album release party for an album he produced, so be it. He never comes to these things anyways.

At least, he didn’t when you knew him. You haven’t known Jihoon for a long time. It’s been four years after all; a lot can change in a week, let alone four years.

Like your decision to leave the K-pop industry. You had mulled over it for weeks, before you brought it up to anyone, and you didn’t go to Jihoon first. He was the last person you told. At least, officially, that you were leaving.

All those years of work as a trainee, just for it to be nothing. All of the tears, the angry screams into your pillow, the poverty your company forced you into in the first few years of your career because it was boarding on bankruptcy. All of this wasted potential. Maybe you could’ve been someone great.

You were, for a few years. Your group took off, and the first few years of success made all of the hard work feel like it was worth something. But as the saying goes, too much of a good thing won’t be good for long.

The pressure started to build, and it built until it boiled over and you were found on the verge of doing something terrible in your bathroom by your boyfriend and your manager after a week of unusual silence. Jihoon never was a crier, but god did he sob as he held you in the back of the ambulance. He had never begged for anything the way he begged for you to talk to him.

Please, god, please talk to me Y/N. Please, baby. I can’t— I can’t lose you.

It’s funny, really, how things work out. You dug yourself so deep into this hole of despair from the pressure of being an idol, that the only way out of it was to completely separate yourself from that life and start over.

After terminating your contract, you broke up with Jihoon. Or, you didn’t break up with him, only told him that you needed to take a break while you sorted yourself out. After being on a break for four years, is it still just a break? Or are you broken up at that point?

Both you and Jihoon know the answer to that.

Three years of no social media, no articles about you, none of your old friends reaching out to check in on you because they held a contractual obligation to be nice to you in the hallways. Three and a half years out of the spotlight. Three and a half years of peace, of healing, of sorting your life out and learning how to breathe again.

It’s been four years without Jihoon, and you didn’t really think much about the consequences that potentially sharing a space with him would have. But now they’re suffocating. All you can think about is the potential possibility of him being here, which, he wouldn’t be, right? He hates these kinds of gatherings. He used to skip his own release parties to watch shitty romance movies with you on the couch in his studio.

Does he have someone new to watch romance movies with? Or has he given up romance altogether? You know from the first few months, updates provided by Soonyoung, that he didn’t take the distance very well. You know that he missed you, and he worried about you constantly. You know you’re spiralling, and you know all those years of therapy will be for nothing if you don’t pull yourself out of it.

You don’t have to do that, because Seungkwan does it for you. “Y/N? You came!” He seems elated that you’re here, off his rocker, probably drunk.

“Of course I came! It’s your first album as BSS, Seungkwan.” You smile, and it’s not forced at all. You have completely forgotten how easy it is to fall into banter with Seungkwan. It’s almost like you never left in the first place.

Except something in his eyes seems off. That’s your first red flag to turn around and get the fuck out of this club, but you don’t. “My god. It’s been so long. How are you doing?” With anyone else, the small talk would’ve taken you out back and killed you. It’s different with Seungkwan.

Different how? He was one of the only people who consistently checked in on you when you first left. As you settled into your new life, the texts became less frequent; now, four years later they’re hardly anything to notice, but he’ll still send you a text on every holiday, and he’s wished you happy birthday every year since you met him.

“I’m doing a lot better. I’m… I’m good.” You laugh softly. Seungkwan smiles at you.

“That’s good. I’ve missed having you around— of course I don’t expect you to come back into this scene, but it would be nice to see you sometime.” Seungkwan squeezes your shoulder softly and smiles wider.

“Yeah, of course. I know I’ve been gone, but I’ll make it less hard to get a hold of me. I’ve missed all of you, truth be told.” You smile back. “I’ve just… been doing a lot of healing and I think it’s about time I finally start reconnecting with people. Is everyone here?” You ask.

“Oh, yeah. We’re all here! I kind of spilled that I invited you so everyone decided to come just in case you showed up.” The depth of all doesn’t really seem to cross Seungkwan’s mind; he’s certainly not thinking about Jihoon right now, or Seungcheol for that matter. You’re pretty sure Seungcheol would punch you if he caught sight of you. Maybe Jihoon would too. You have no idea how Jihoon even feels about you.

“Even, uh, Jihoon?” The smile falls from Seungkwan’s face.

“Oh. Yeah. He’s here too.” Seungkwan swallows when he sees your face shift. “You… he-he wants to talk to you. It’s not my place to really say, but he’s not mad. I think he just wants closure.”

So maybe Jihoon wouldn’t punch you. That’s a bit of a relief.

“Oh my god! Y/N! You came!” It’s Seokmin, very clearly drunk. You didn’t keep in contact with him, though he did send you a few paragraphs over text as he wished you all the best, telling you to reach out if you ever needed anything. You didn’t take him up on the offer.

“I did!” You smile, tilting your head as you look up at Seokmin.

“Can I have a hug?” He’s already opening his arms and you slide right into them. His hug is firm and warm. You’ve missed Seokmin a lot more than you cared to admit. Seungkwan grumbles about how he should’ve asked for a hug and you laugh, pulling him into one.

You catch up with Seokmin briefly before he’s being pulled away by someone you don’t know. You stick with Seungkwan, talking about your life, the album, avoiding the subject of Jihoon.

And then you turn your head at the bright sound of laughter, and you see him. You see him, and he’s not the same mess he was when you left him with no promise of when you’d see each other next. He’s not the scared man in his early twenties who had no idea if you were going to die on him. He’s not the man who stayed with you in the hospital for days on end.

He’s not the producer you knew who’d slide his headphones over your ears as he pulled you into his lap. He’s not the warm hand that held yours because you forgot your gloves again. He’s not the hushed giggles at four in the morning, or the hurried kisses, or the soft whimpers and praises as you tangled yourselves in his bedsheets.

Jihoon isn’t yours anymore.

You had hoped he wouldn’t be such a sore subject for you anymore, but seeing him in all of his glory four years later… god does it fucking hurt. You’ve done a lot of healing in the last four years, but in that time you never really had the time to process the loss of Jihoon.

Soonyoung spots you, and that’s when you know you’re doomed, because if Soonyoung is distracted, Jihoon always notices the thing that catches him off guard. You try to pull your eyes away from Jihoon, but you can’t. You swear he’s gotten more beautiful in the last four years.

He’s gotten bigger, physically— far more muscular. You can see the curve of his pecks through his shirt, one that isn’t even tight against his body. Jihoon’s always been a big fitness buff, but it appears he’s put more effort into himself. His biceps strain against the fitted sleeves of his long sleeve black shirt.

Jihoon’s face looks different too. He still has the same round cheeks you used to always pinch and prod at. His jawline is still soft, but it’s more defined. His eyes are bright, and the bags under them are still there. You wonder briefly if he’s ever gotten rid of them; if the skin under his eyes has ever matched the rest of his milky complexion.

His hair is longer than you’ve ever seen it. Dark and flowy, it’s reflective and healthy, half tied up with what would be his undercut hanging freely. A few pieces frame his face. It looks soft and healthy. Jihoon looks soft and healthy.

He’s smiling as he scans the crowd to find what Soonyoung is distracted by, and then he spots you. The smile is wiped off of Jihoon’s face faster than your brain can even register it. Seungkwan stiffens beside you, hand finding your shoulder to steady you as you stumble briefly, but the pull between you and Jihoon is too much.

Both of you start moving towards each other, pushing your way through the crowd. “Y/N.” His voice comes out in a breath, chest heaving and then he’s there, right in front of you, after four years.

You don’t know what to say, can’t process the fact that he’s in front of you, as beautiful as ever. “Jihoon,” you echo, “hi.” You can’t help the small smile that threatens to pull at your lips. The tension on Jihoon’s face eases, but he doesn’t smile back.

“Hi. How are you doing?” Jihoon asks, and if it was anyone else, it would’ve been a sad attempt at small talk. It’s Jihoon, so you know he’s asking how you’re doing now, if you’re better. A part of him is asking if you still feel like killing yourself. The answer to the last part is no.

“I’m… better. A lot better.” You laugh awkwardly. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t doing okay.” Now, Jihoon actually does smile at you, and though it’s small, it’s still there.

“You look a lot better. Healthier. I’m glad.” Jihoon takes a sip of his drink as he looks down at you. He’s right; you’re much healthier now. There’s solid meat on your bones, your thighs touch and your ribs don’t show anymore. Your face has filled out, cheeks full and round. Your eyes don’t look as though they’re sunken into your skull, they’re brighter now; they seem to shine with life in a way they never have before.

Jihoon takes you in properly, and god, you’ve gotten so much more beautiful since the last time he saw you. It hurts. It hurts a lot to see how good you look now, without him. He knows it’s a lot more complicated than that, but it still hurts nonetheless.

You look healthy, like an actual person and not a skeleton, and you were never that way when you were an idol. You were never like that when you were with Jihoon.

“Oh, um, thank you. Should we… should we sit? We have a lot to talk about.” You laugh again to hide your nerves. Jihoon can still read you, and he knows you’re brimming with nerves. He knows you’re a little scared, probably more than a little, and he is too.

You’ve never breached the subject, hardly even talked about your breakup. Jihoon doesn’t like to think about it. He just doesn’t. He doesn’t like to think about how much worse you were doing, even if it destroyed him. The breakup was harder on you, tenfold, and you went through it alone.

“I- uh. Yeah, yeah, we can go sit. It’s probably about time we talk.” Jihoon laughs nervously, closing his eyes for a second. He wordlessly starts walking towards the vacant booths of the club. You follow close behind.

Jihoon sits down, and you take a seat across from him. It’s silent for a few moments. Both of you are staring at your cups, not drinking, just swirling your liquids of choice.

Jihoon speaks first, but he can’t look at you. “Why’d you have to leave me?” He asks, and his voice breaks softly as he says it. You certainly weren’t expecting that as the first question he asked, but you don’t really know what else he would’ve asked.

“I… I had to leave everything that had to do with being an idol behind. You… you included.” It’s a shitty answer, but you can’t think in Jihoon’s presence.

“I understand that, but I would’ve been there for you. I would’ve helped you get help. You didn’t have to do it by yourself, Y/N. I loved you; I would’ve done anything to make sure you were safe.” Jihoon’s bites at his lip, eyes sparkling in the low lights of the club. He looks like he’s about to cry, and god does it break your heart.

He loved you, past tense. It’s jarring. It stings, but what else did you expect? For him to still want you? That’s unrealistic and completely unfair to expect from him.

It hits you then that you might still be in love with him. That makes this next part so much harder.

“I know. I know, but it made sense to me at the time. I can’t- I can’t rationalize anything that I did at that time in my life. None of it makes sense, but I made a lot of choices that I regret and I can’t go back on them now. It’s too late for that and I’m- I’m so sorry for everything I put you through, Jihoon. All of it; everything, god, I’m so sorry.” You spill, and the soft burn in the back of your throat makes it hard to speak as you try not to cry. “You didn’t deserve to deal with any of it.” You whisper softly.

“Y/N,” Jihoon whispers back, “I forgave you a long time ago. I just want closure.” Closure. Jihoon wants closure, meaning he wants to move on. The tears in his eyes shine brightly, though they don’t fall, but he’s crying nonetheless, and that makes you feel worse.

“I don’t deserve that though. I don’t deserve to be forgiven for just leaving you. Seungcheol still hasn’t forgiven me; why the hell would you?” You swallow hard, and that seems to break the dam as the first few tears slip down your cheeks.

“Seungcheol has his own issues. We never told him the full story, and maybe that’s why he’s still… iffy about the whole thing. But I forgive you. I just, I want to stop hiding from you. I don’t want to be worried about running into you somewhere and not knowing what to say. I still care about you, so much, and, god does it fucking kill me to still worry about you when you’ve never made an effort to reach out to me.” Jihoon’s always been blunt, so you should’ve expected this, but it makes you feel worse; guilty. “I would’ve answered your calls, in a heartbeat. You know I would’ve.” Jihoon blinks, and the first few tears fall down his face.

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to call you after so long. I spent six months in and out of the hospital, and after that I had to get back on my feet. By the time I even had time to think about calling you, it’d been a year, and to me that was too late.” You close your eyes and exhale deeply, fingers twitching.

Jihoon used to hold your hands when you were upset to stop them from twitching so much. He used to pull your head close to his chest and wipe your tears with the pads of his thumbs. He makes no effort to do so now. Jihoon can’t even look at you properly.

He’s focused on picking at the calluses on his palms. Some things never change.

“You- six months? Y/N, fuck, I had no idea. I knew it was bad but, shit, really?” Jihoon’s voice breaks fully, and all you can do is nod. “How many more times? How many times did you—?” He can’t finish his sentence. His throat closes up.

“Four.” Jihoon has nothing to say in reply. He can’t, not with the deep hurt that settles in his chest, so you elaborate. “I really just wanted to die. The media was on my ass for the first year and it was just bad. I spent the next year after that in a rehabilitation program to fix my relationship with food and it helped a lot. I found a good therapist and I’m still seeing her. It’s helped a lot. I’m- I’m clean.” You pick up your cup, hand shaking, and take a large drink to calm your nerves.

“I’m really glad that you’re healthy now. Really, god, that’s such a relief.” Jihoon’s tears are steady now. He wipes at them with his sleeve. You mutter a soft thank you.

Outside of the booth, the noise has been blocked out by your conversation, but you hear something peculiar. It’s Seungcheol, his voice is loud and booming. He’s angry.

“What the fuck are they doing here?! Seriously, why did you even invite them?” Both you and Jihoon look up at the same time to see Joshua and Mingyu trying to deescalate the situation. Seungkwan is yelling back, face red as he tries to block Seungcheol’s view of the booth you and Jihoon are sat in.

“No, I’ve fucking had it with all of you. Defending them for just fucking leaving Jihoon without a word. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you bring them here?” Seungcheol is drunk and looking for a confrontation with you, and that’s enough of a threat to have you and Jihoon standing as he tries to usher you out of the club without Seungcheol seeing.

“Fuck, you should probably go.” Jihoon pulls you close to him, shielding you from Seungcheol’s view. You nod, walking fast beside him as you push your way through the crowd.

“Yah! You, get the fuck back here!” Neither of you listen as you push your way out of the door. You make the mistake of looking behind you to see Joshua and Mingyu physically holding Seungcheol back. Wonwoo is there now too, standing in front of him to prevent him from walking.

The outside air is cold and bitter. You shiver as you pull out your phone to order a ride. You and Jihoon are completely silent. He’s standing so close to you that you can feel his body heat radiating off onto you.

“I’ll wait with you. How long?” He asks, voice shaky.

“Two minutes.” You only have two minutes left with Jihoon. It’s so finite, the time you’re spending with him. If only you had more time.

You’re not afforded that luxury as you shiver beside him. “Can I- is it okay if I—?” You nod, unsure of what he’s asking. It’s a yes either way. Jihoon pulls you into his arms in a tight, warm hug. His hands don’t find their way into your hair, or rub your back. He just holds you. It’s all he can do.

Both of you ignore the mutual swell of warmth in your chests. You’re still in love with him, you know that, and that’s why the car seems to show up in no time. Your phone chimes as the car pulls up in front of the club as you reluctantly start to separate yourselves.

There’s so much you didn’t get to talk about. You tell him so. “We, fuck, I had so much more to say. I had so much more to explain. You, god, you were the right person, Jihoon. Everything else was just so wrong.” You thought the weight would’ve been lifted off your chest, but it only hurts more. You close your eyes as you turn away.

“Y/N, fuck, don’t do this to me right now.” Jihoon whispers, eyes filling with tears once again.

“I’m sorry Jihoon. I love you. I’ll see you around.” You open the door to the car.

“I, yeah. Take care of yourself.” Jihoon can’t look at you, no way in hell can he look at you as you close the door and drive off. He stands still in the cold, watching as the car disappears from his sight. He leans against the wall, head falling back as the tears start pouring freely.

As he pushes the door to the club open, it hits him hard, fills his whole body as a bone deep love for you settles. And it hurts, god does it hurt. Seungcheol’s calmed down, but the snide remark that slips past his lip doesn’t even register in Jihoon’s brain. All Jihoon recognizes is his tone, and that’s enough.

“I’ll punch you right in your fucking mouth, Seungcheol, I swear to god. Shut the fuck up.” Jihoon hardly ever makes threats, but when he does it has everyone going quiet. Seungcheol, Joshua and Mingyu stop in their tracks. There’s been enough drama for one night.

Jihoon grabs a new drink and chugs it, before he goes to grab his coat. He needs to get out of here before the sob building in his throat bursts.

You manage to keep your tears at bay until you enter your apartment. You find yourself in the bathroom, against the cold tile and the porcelain of the bathtub. You don’t do anything, just sit there and breathe as the tears flow freely.

It wasn’t supposed to end like that. You were supposed to have more time to reconcile with Jihoon. You and bathrooms have seen a lot of hurt. Most of your bad decisions are made in bathrooms. You don’t do anything, you just sit there for a few minutes as you cry.

Nothing happens the next night. Or the night after. A week after the release party, Jihoon still plagues your mind and that’s when you crack. Your old manager turned friend answers the phone.

“Hi. You okay?” Yena asks softly, voice ridden with sleep.

“Drive me to the hospital? I think I need stitches.” You laugh nervously. The adrenaline has worn off and all you feel is regret.

“Y/N.” She sighs, but it’s not disappointment. She’s seen a lot of things with you, and supported you through all of them. You’re the reason she quit being a manager and went back to university. You made her realize the idol life isn’t as glamorous as it seems, and you’ve formed a very solid friendship over the past five years. “You know they’re gonna keep you for a few days, right?”

“Yeah. I know. It was impulsive. Like, I’m fine now. I just couldn’t stop thinking.” You sigh.

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll be on the way. Cold water and pressure until I get there, yeah?” You laugh softly.

“Already on it.” The call disconnects soon after, and you look up at the mirror. Briefly, you imagine Jihoon standing behind you in a much different situation than the one you’re in now.

His thick arms are wrapped around your waist, head leaning against yours. He’s smiling in your vision. You smile softly in your reflection, though it’s strained. The blood on your hands pulls you out of it.

a/n: i wrote this when i was going through it. i’m fine now but i seriously can’t do angst like i used to so i might write a part two or something where they end up back together.

[my313]

instagram bf!beomgyu 🐻📷

now playing 𝄞₊⊹ love - rocco

⋆ pairing: bf!beomgyu x f!reader

⋆ warnings/themes: fluff, pda, paris trip w gyu, has some insta story pics, suggestive at the end but not rly?, i love writing cute whipped men beomgyu will not be exempt!!!!

a/n: only a few days until cb!! so have this hehe <3 been thinking abt it since he opened his insta acc .. and the amount of pics hes taken for user page.soobin!!! me 🤝 beomu photographer agenda

your friends compliment how well your paris pictures turned out, gushing about how they can tell you’re glowing even through their phone screens. one of them even asks how you smile so genuinely. your colleague asks how your candids look picture-perfect, as if the sun knew when to kiss your skin, or when the moon illuminated the swell of your cheeks, and especially as if the camera just knew when to shoot.

there is no magic to your pictures, but you have something — rather, someone — quite close.

your boyfriend of many years, choi beomgyu, had always had a knack for making things appear more beautiful in his capable, calloused hands. though, if he heard you now, he’d give you a scolding, “the camera just captures your beauty. it’s not any of my doing, babe.”

maybe that’s a half-truth, but you know that your boyfriend definitely works his magic on you.

because when beomgyu has a lens in his hold, be it your phone or an ebay-bought digicam; it’s his love for you that carries. every frame that manages to reach yours or his instagram following, even the ones tucked safely behind your phone case and in his wallet.

it’s all a culmination of beomgyu’s lovestruck gaze, his animated attempts of hyping you up, the jokes you pass back and forth, and the utter adoration you have for him.

you vividly remember the night you and beomgyu aimlessly strolled around paris. the streets would appear dull to many, but you and beomgyu could make any city an enamoring experience with your uncontrollable fits of laughter, mischievous giggles, and the comical sway of your clasped hands back and forth.

like most tourists, you end up by the eiffel tower.

when beomgyu unclasps your hands to paw at the lens cover of his camera, you laugh. “isn’t it illegal to take pictures here at night?”

he moves the camera to his face, trying to look through the viewfinder with one eye shut. “you know what’s illegal, baby?” he redirects his gaze to your unassuming face, the camera moved to the side.

“hm?” your head tilts, genuinely curious.

beomgyu bites down on his lip to hide the growing smile he always can’t seem to control when you’re at mercy to his foolishness. one of the things he loves about you is the way you’re simultaneously gullible and quick enough to join the banter he sets up.

his index finger positions itself on the button readily, shifting back to cameraman mode with the chunky piece of technology blocking out his face.

“to not take photos of my gorgeous, most prettiest, scrumptious, girlfriend that i can frame and put up everywhere.” click.

you stare at him, dumbfounded. even more confused by the click of his camera. you don’t hear it again until seconds later when you throw your head back to let out a boisterous laugh; the ridiculous kind that only beomgyu loves and other tourists hate. click.

when your face is back in the viewfinder, beomgyu shoots again. it feels as though the lens is brought to a new life when you’re the muse, because beomgyu’s rose-coloured gaze shifts the world the camera sees through a pinkish filter — one with hearts and sparkles everywhere. all because of you.

the warmly-lit eiffel tower shies in comparison to the warmth of the grin etched on your lips, cheeks about to burst. click. click. click. one more with flash.

beomgyu makes a halt, capping the lens and slinging the camera over his neck again. you’re calming down from your laughing fit, but you still clutch at your stomach breathlessly. beomgyu takes this as a chance to walk over and take you into his arms.

he nestles you into him, letting you rest your head on his chest like you were too shy to look up at him. a chaste kiss to your forehead prompts you to look up at beomgyu. he smiles fondly at you, “wanna see the photos?”

you grumble, falling back into his chest. his hearty laugh makes you feel the vibrations, and you can’t picture being with anyone else in this lifetime or the next. “i guess…”

he lets you pull away, but only so far. beomgyu’s arms never stray too far, especially when he’s not holding your hand. he wraps an arm around your waist and huddles you in, like showing you these candid pictures of you laughing at his nth stupid joke was some top secret.

“this one’s gonna be a banger, babe…” he scrolls through the camera’s memory roll. “credit me when you post, okay?” he pouts at you.

you roll your eyes, more dotingly than in irritation. “clout chaser…”

“nooo..” he whines.

“i just want people to see who’s behind the camera, making you laugh, seeing you at your most beautiful.” beomgyu’s shift from teasing to sentimental has you cooing. you can’t help but give him a little head pat, one of his favourite forms of affection. like a puppy.

you nod, laughing along. “don’t worry, everyone knows. but i’ll do it for you, my struggling artist~”

“i won’t be struggling anymore if you gimme kiss,” back to taking jabs. his lips are in a pout and you’re tempted to pinch them with your fingers, knowing he’ll grumble cutely.

“c’mon, it’s commission for the photos. good deal, right?”

you peck his lips multiple times, then one on either side of his cheek. by the time you finish, he looks like a smiling fool. you poke at his whisker dimples while your other hand holds his hand.

“i’ll give you an even better payment if we go back to the hotel now. what d’you think, pretty boy?”

beomgyu has never walked that fast in his life.

[bokunosoul]

𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪

Yuno (Black Clover) x Reader

𝙉𝙎𝙁𝙒 requests are OPEN

MINOR DNI, for requests i don't accept reqs for ageless blogs, anonymous blogs or minors

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 : f-ngering, m-sterbation, d-rty talk, b-ow job, cursing, hate sex, v-yeurism, s-xual assault on reader by an opponent, reader and yuno has some experience, aged up, public intercourse, d-flowering, rushed work etc.

Being part of the golden dawn and being part of nobility, you seemed like you have the best life ever.  That means you have to make the best reputation out of yourself.

But you can't.

You endes up being compared by your family to yuno, your colleague. You hate to admit it but he's really good at doing those missions all by himself, no wonder he became a vice captain in such a young age.

He's also kinda.... goodlooking.

Now here you are trying to be composed infront of you captain along side with yuno receiving orders.

"Y/N, Yuno, you will be going to explore an dungeon and report back immidiately once you've completed this mission. You will be leaving early tomorrow. Get along well and make sure to rest."

The captain said and you both saluted to him. Once you got out of the door you glared at him and turned your back.

"What a snob!!!" bell, his sylph said and stick out her tongue behind your back.

"Stop it bell." Yuno said

You looked at him one last time, hw just stared plainly with those attractive eyes. Blushing in fury you just marched away and layed frustrated in your room. Why the fuck does he stare at me with those eyes? You can't help but to blush replaying what happened earlier.

The very next day you both set off to your mission. You both just rided your own brooms and it was very pleasing to watch the sun rise whilst you ride in the air.

You both arrived at the dungeons amd split off. Came across a bunch of opponents. But as always they were no match for you. You sighed as you thought things were over and you were about to call it a day.

You were suddenly taken aback by a man and you can't escape from his arms. You started attacking him one by one with your magic but still he doesn't budge.

A fucking diamond mage. This is bad.

"Get of me you pervert!" you shouted at the guy and he just gave off an disgusting smirk.

Disgusting!

"What's a pretty girl doing here alone in the dungeons? hmmm? "

"None. Of. Your. Fucking. Bussiness. "

i cursed and proceeded to struggle to get off him.

"You must want to know my name sweetie, the names Ragus. "

You started to tear up as he started to linger his hands to your thighs along to the part where your mother told you to save for your marriage.

"N-no, p-please. "

Everything came in so fast. The guys suddenly was thrown across the place, none other than yuno. He looked so enraged and shocked, even though your eyes were blurry from the tears you still saw it.

"I didn't asked for help. "

He came closer to you, taking off his robe and wrapping it around your waist. Your'e faced started turning red as he carried you in his arms bridal style.

" Put me down. "

" No. "

" I hate you. "

This man so frickin persistent, it was annoying. You just kinda stared at him for a while and gave in.

___

Now it's night fall at the moon shines brightly, and it was not safe to travel as some beasts and bandits rome this area. Yuno decided to cook a meal and you decides to go take a stroll to clear your mind.

Replaying on what happened earlier, you felt disgusted. That mans perverted touch, gaze still lingers on my skin.

Thankfully,  you can hear there's a waterfall up ahead so you can go take a bath.

You were mesmerized by the scenery infront of you. A thousand stars can be seen, and the moon is so full up above.

' No one can should be looking right? '

You carefully slipped out your clothes and hopped onto the water. Leaving you naked in all of your glory. You dove upon the cold water and like any normal person would do in the bath.

Sighing you sat in a nearby boulder and dried off your body. You were frustrated, you embarassed yourself earlier infront of him.

The way he looked earlier.....

You started to feel hot as you imagined his look earlier. You can't think straight anymore whilst your breathe hitches and body heats up.

I moaned as i inserted one of my fingers inside my needy cunt, while your other hand massages your breasts.

"Ah~fuck~"

You imagine yourself getting fucked by him. His cock so deep in your needy hole as you moan in pleasure. You hate him, hate that he makes you feel this way.

All that pent up feeling all you do was just to do it solo by yourself. Your parents conservativeness, heavy burden, past relationships and stress makes you feel dry.

"Hah~ yuno~ oh fuck yes!"

"Oh~shit!"

"Yes! ~yes!~yes! "

Now here you are desperately pumping your fingers back in fourth in your slit making vulgar noises, thinking of the hot mage. Causing you to come all over the place.

'Fuck i made a mess.'

You suddenly heard a rustling noise in the bushed. You hurriedly covered yourself with your clothes.

"WHO'S THAT!?"

I heaved an sigh of relief as the figure appears to be an deer. You decided to just get cleaned and dressed and head back to him.

_

"I'm back."

You said and sat in the ground infront of the bonfire. You can't see his face but it looks like that he is eating.

It's been 30 minutes and he still hasn't talked nor faced me. He just sat down facing the other way round.

Weird. He normally would discuss about what will we report about to captain....

"Yuno?"

You asked as you walked towards him. His face seemed red and he looks so flustered.

' does he have a fever? '

You nervously put your palms on his forehead to confirm. Your eyes widened as he suddenly pinned you to a wall.

'W-what the fuck?'

He stared at you like a hungry wolf who targeted it's prey. Meanwhile you just stood there shock.

"You have much courage doing that in public, Y/N."

Yuno whispered onto your ear, making you instantly blush in embarassment. He saw that. HE FUCKING DID!??!

You looked away and shut your eyes tight. His hot breathe just hitched right at your neck.

" such a slut, moaning my nme like that. "

" HAH, you must be imagining things you perverted freak! "

You lied, facing him red. He smirked.

"I saw that, clearly Y/N, clearly. " yuno said firmly wrapping his arms on my waist.

" S-so? it's not like i like you or something. D-dumbass. " i stuttered and pushed him away, lightly.

" spit it out. "

"What? "

"I know you like me. "

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"N-no? "

He frowned and stopped, he started to walk away. You can't help but to feel frustrated.

"That's why i hate you. "

He stopped walking and slammed you hard against the tree.

"Really? you hate me that much huh? I will prove it to you that i am better than that." he replied smugly

"Then you have my consent, bastard. "

You smirked as your faces become closer and our bodies pressed together heatedly against the wall, breathing heavily as our lips pressed together and our tongues battle in dominance.

It's the first time she ever felt like this.

He suddenly stopped.

"Before we do anything, do i have your consent? "

"Yes, just fucking take me. "

His hands pressed under her shirt, quick to shove aside my bra. My voluptous breasts spilled out and his impatient lips hungrily sucked it off.

"Oh~ah shit!" you can't help but to moan in his touch.

He paused and threw your robe and bra on the ground. He goes down and down and down towards you legs as he carefully caresses, his hot breath along my thighs.

You gulped as you watch him lift your skirt revealing your thong. You feel embarassed as he stared at it for a few moments and take off your skirt along with thongs. Leaving you naked only for his eyes.

" so beautiful. " he whispered.

That was the last straw.

You straddled him, caughting him off guard as you lean in for a kiss.

"Where's all that courage coming from? "

"Shut up. "

My hands fumbled upon his trousers and onto his underwear revealing his erection. You blushed, since it was your first time seeing a man's part like that. You only see it in books......

His breatgour hand slowly travels on his cock. Pumping it back and fourth. Yuno looked so pretty like that, needy and desperate.

"Hah, just like that. "

He purred.

Slowly you started making kitten licks on his cock. Swirling your tongue along his tip, it then became much more intense. Gathering up the courage you slowly started going down on him, sucking his cock. You were gagging- but you couldn't care less.

"Hah~Ah shit y/n...." He let out an pleased hum whilst making eye contact with you, running his slender fingers through your hair.

You let out an shriek as he suddenly

forces your head down, causing you to choke on his cock. Bucking his hips into your mouth you can only tear up in the sensation you are feeling whilst he talks dirty to you.

"You fucking slut, the way you stare at me makes me go crazy everytime, now look at you choking at my cock. "

He said in his cool usual tone and slammed my body to the ground. Sorry mother, but i can't resist this man.

"I-it hurts yuno, hah~. "

You whimpered as his length was buried deep inside you. It was painful at first but it suddenly was replaced with pleasure as he slowly thrusted inside of your tight hole.

"I-is this your first time?"

Yuno sounded concerned and you looked at him and nodded shyly.

"Shit, i should've been more careful, are you okay? "

What's with this man...

"Yeah, it looks like you have just taken my virginity, vice captain. "

You said locking your arms on his neck and staring deeply on his amber eyes.

"Then fuck me hard, yuno." you whispered and he did.

Well that rest was history that night you and him just enjoyed the starry night and eachothers warmth on the moonlit night.

💌 : This is the celebration of my man turning 18. This was frickin rushed and amateurish since im new to this writing style👹

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

this is halloween || seungmin x reader

Summary: Working Halloween night is just like any other night as far as you're concerned — with the promise that you'll get your pick of unsold candy in the next few days. Your coworker Seungmin, on the other hand, insists that it's one of the worst nights of the year. Who knows, maybe the night will turn out memorable for you, and not so horrible for him.

Word count: 4k

Genres: friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers

Warnings & Tags: light angst, some fluff, brief mention of past bullying, spooky atmosphere, customers being assholes.

A/N: Second installment in my Halloween mini-series! This one's for Seungmin, hope you'll like it!

Jeongin · Felix

Halloween is, as far as you’re concerned, just another night that you need to get yourself through. You’re fairly neutral in your feelings about it. You don’t like the weird crowd it brings with it, but they’re not that much weirder than the people that come in on full moons, at the 24/7 convenience store where you work, and you deal with them once a month. You do like that you get first pick on the candies that go on sale right after it’s passed. Don’t like the colleagues that go all in and insist that you should get dressed up; do like that the store gets decorated and the purple, orange and black colors they always pick.

All in all, Halloween’s fine. The candies make it worth it, mostly, as far as you’re concerned. You don’t even mind entertaining the few kids that come in looking for candy. You’ve got a jar by your cash-register that you can pick from for them — company policy. This year, you’ve even agreed — with, mind you, a very pronounced eyeroll — to wear a witch hat on your head. It delighted the children, amused some of the adults, and pissed off most of the ones you didn’t like in the first place, the ones that asked you if you planned to work at a convenience store forever or commented on what it had to mean for your studies, your intelligence or the way you were raised.

The ones you like the least are the ones that tell their kids ‘see, this is where you’ll end up if you don’t do well in school’ while pointing at you.

Since the hat makes them judgmental but isn’t punishment enough for them, you also shake their carbonated drinks, discreetly mind you, before handing them back to them.

On top of the shitty, boring, rude clients, that are less frequent when you’re nights, there’s one other person that doesn’t like the hat. One person that practically hissed at you when he first walked in and you were wearing it. One person who has very strong feelings about Halloween, in that he fucking hates it.

Seungmin’s spent the past month mumbling about how Halloween used to be a pagan celebration that’s been recuperated by capitalism. It’s not like you think he’s wrong, but the whole thing has made you quite wary of how he’ll be when Christmas or Valentine’s day will come around.

Seungmin’s usually one of your favorite colleagues. You like his dry wit, the snide comments he makes about some of the weirder customers. You like that he doesn’t hesitate to step in when you’re dealing with guys that think they can make a move on you because they’re alone in the store and it’s two am. You like how he lights up when you ask him a question about basketball or how he grows shy when you talk about the singing lessons he’s been taking but is very secretive about.

Oh, and you like that he’s hot. Obviously.

Even now, when you walk by him to get behind your register and wave at him, hat firmly on your head, you can’t hold back a laugh when he shoots you an utterly disgusted look.

“Have a good night, Seungmin!” you shout at him.

“I won’t!” he yells back. You think there’s the ghost of a grin on his lips then, and you take your seat with no small amount of pride at the thought that you made him smile on Halloween night of all nights.

It’s not a great victory, but you do need it to get yourself going as you get to work. The first hours are usually the busiest ones, especially on a night like that, and you don’t have much time to yourself, whether to think, be bored, or steal glances at Seungmin over your shoulder. Even when you get the chance to do that, he’s busy himself, and you don’t get to tease him about Halloween, or laugh at one of your insides jokes.

You’ve been here for a couple of hours when a group of college students walk in, and you groan inwardly. It’s not that you mind college students as a rule, you’re one yourself most of the time — some of your best friends are college students! — it’s just that tonight, it means that they’re either here to buy alcohol for later use, and you’ll have to ask for their ID, and they might not be of age, and it’s going to be unpleasant. Or, and the alternative is actually worse, they’re already drunk from pre-gaming, and they’ll be annoying. It doesn’t help that you know they definitely won’t be the last to show up tonight.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t relieved when they don’t pick your register once they emerge from the store, but you immediately grimace in sympathy as they line up in front of Seungmin’s.

The store’s mostly empty by now, so you don’t have much better to do than to turn around to watch the scene. There are a few regulars that you know will be making their rounds no matter what later on, and someone will have to go through the store to check the inventory in a few minutes, but that can wait a little longer.

Even through the group of young men, you can see that Seungmin’s shoulders are tense, his jaw tight. Yup, they’re drunk, and probably being assholes, because he usually doesn’t have much trouble dealing with people.

He sends them away with a tight-lipped smile and a muttered ‘have a good night’ that you can still hear from your seat, because the phrase, which you’re supposed to tell each customer before they walk through the door, is engraved in your ears by now.

You walk up to him once you’re back to being alone in the store together.

“You okay?” you ask him, more sympathetic than you were earlier.

He deadpans at you before groaning, pinching the bridge of his nose as he closes his eyes.

“People are just so loud,” he sighs.

“Aw, am I people?” you fake-pout, hoping to cheer him up, and the corners of his lips tremble but do not quite curve up.

“You’re tolerable.”

You scoff, roll your eyes playfully. You miss the way Seungmin’s eyes soften as he watches your antics.

“You want to go take a walk through the store?” you offer him, tone more serious. “Could help clear your head, though I’m afraid there are decorations up everywhere.”

Another groan, before he gets up.

“I guess I can deal with that. If I absolutely have to.” Now on his feet, he looks down at you, and his brow furrows. “Call me if there’s an issue.”

“There won’t be.”

He glares for a second more, and it’s cute actually, it’s really cute, that protective look in his eyes, but you don’t need him to be right now — except maybe to feed your ego.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he says like it’s a warning, before walking away with one final glare. You wave your fingers at him, before going back to your spot.

Now, you have more than enough time to get bored. Your phone is in your pocket, but you’re familiar with the angle at which the cameras are filming you, and you’re not bored enough yet to risk it. That time will come, no doubt about it; it always does. You can hold it at bay a little longer though, so you do, resting your chin in your palm as you let your gaze wander over the store or slide back towards the doors. There’s stuff you could do inside the store, but you’re not supposed to leave the registers unattended, which means you have to sit there, useless, until Seungmin comes back or someone walks in.

The first option would make you happier for sure.

As the minutes stretch out into what feels like hours, and Seungmin doesn’t come back, probably having found some issue he can fix, your eyes linger on the windows. The night is pitch black outside, with the harsh, white light of the street lights that dot the parking lot as the exception. From your spot, they leave islands of perfect darkness in between them. It unsettles you, looking at it, always does, despite how long you’ve been doing this job. One of the street lights has been blinking for the past week, and no one’s bothered to do anything about it yet.

You’re staring at it, complaining internally about how unsafe it makes you feel and about how it could just decide to stop working as you’re walking under it when you’ll leave the store in the early hours of the morning to catch the first bus home, when, after one final on-off-on, the light goes off. Despite your eyes being right on it, it catches you off-guard, startles you. You wait for it to turn back on.

It doesn’t.

There’s nothing to be scared of, you’re aware of that intellectually. It’s not the first time that one of the streetlights has died on you, it’s probably happened on one of your shifts before, too. Still, one glance at your phone tells you it’s 11:59, and that is an odd enough coincidence to make you tense. You stare into the night a while longer. Obviously, there is no one out there — you would have seen them by now.

But as the numbers on your phone change to 12:00, the automatic doors slide open and a gust of wind rushes in, and suddenly you’re absolutely frozen in place, convinced, in a way that is as far from rational as possible, that there is something there.

You nearly scream when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Seungmin asks you as he spins your chair around, a concerned frown on his face.

“I’m fine, it’s just the—” By the time you turn back around, the doors have slid close again. “The doors opened,” you say with what you hope is a nonchalant shrug, while your heart is still beating erratically, “but there was no one here. It must have been the wind.”

He looks at you a little longer, than at the doors.

“I guess,” he replies slowly. “It just better not be one of these jerks trying to play a prank on us.”

He sounds so indignant then that you have to smile.

“I haven’t seen anyone out there since these college kids left earlier. I think we’re good.”

Seungmin keeps staring at the door as though his eyes could pierce through the darkness, then, when they decidedly can’t, shakes his head.

“That’s why I hate Halloween,” he mumbles under his breath, but he’s close enough for you to catch it, something you’re doing your best not to think too much or too hard about.

“I thought it was the capitalism.”

“That too,” he says without having to think about it for even a second. “But it’s mostly the mean pranks. I’ve—” Then he interrupts himself. You wait a little, expecting him to resume the story once he feels ready. When he doesn’t, you put your hand on his, rubbing your thumb over his skin. His hand is warm under yours.

“Are you okay?” you ask. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s— fine. It’s been a long time. I guess some kids had just seen Carrie and thought it would be a really fun idea to test it on me.” He sounds annoyed at himself for still being upset about it rather than at these people, and that makes anger boil inside your chest. On the one hand, maybe it won’t do much good to express that feeling; on the other, maybe that’s just what he needs.

“What fucking assholes,” you say, and laughter spills out of his lips, his bright, toothy grin visible for the first time since the beginning of the night.

“You don’t need to have beef with thirteen year-olds for me,” he tells you fondly. “I’m sure they would never do it again.”

Sure, but that means that he’s the one that’s stuck with the effect of one ‘prank’ that they don’t have to think about again. Which pisses you off even more, actually, though this time you keep your mouth shut.

“I’m sorry, I wish I’d asked you if you wanted to take this shift. I’m sure we could have found a replacement.”

Seungmin just shrugs at that.

“Like I said, I’m fine. And I’m not going to let people scare me anymore.”

There’s something definitive to his tone, and you can tell it must be a promise he’s made to himself a long time ago. For the next seconds, it’s just his eyes in yours, your hand on his.

Then the doors slide open and old Mrs. Yang walks in, pushing her cart and dragging her elderly husband along with her. She has insomnia and likes to do her shopping without being bothered by other people, and he dutifully accompanies her each time, no matter how tired he is. Both you and Seungmin greets them with a smile.

By the time they’ve both disappeared in the aisles, Seungmin’s back in his seat.

Time keeps crawling at a snail’s pace after you’ve checked them out. There are more regulars, more college students, followed by other unbothered — or slightly bothered by the presence of disguised teenagers and young adults —  regulars, and then college students again. All in all, you’d say the night goes okay. You do have to take a stern tone with some people who want to empty your bucket of sweets, something that children’s mothers usually do for you, but that’s not unexpected.

It’s around 3am that you hear Seungmin’s voice call for you. You yawn as you turn towards him.

“Did the three guys come out yet?”

You blink at him.

“Which ones?”

“Frat boys. Red shirts with their logo on it. Have you seen them come out?”

You do remember them coming in, now that he’s mentioned them. You for sure haven’t checked them out. The last people you saw were that exhausted single mother balancing her sleeping toddler on her hip, which is what you tell Seungmin. He rolls his lips together.

“They’ve been in there for a while.”

You get up, stretching and wincing as blood circulates in your body again. You pick up the coffee Thermos you never forget to bring with you — you’d probably die if you did — and show it to him while you get used to being on your feet again.

“Do you want some?” you ask. “I’ll go check where they are.”

Chances are they’ve raided the candy aisle, possibly the booze aisle. Wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened, just means you have to get ready for an unpleasant conversation. That, too, is an art you’ve unfortunately had to master since you started working here.

“Call if you need anything,” Seungmin says, and you wave at him vaguely, both to say ‘I will’ and ‘It won’t be necessary’. You can handle yourself.

After your weird experience with the parking lot light earlier, you’d think walking through the store’s empty aisles would make you uncomfortable, but the truth is, you know the place by heart. They feel familiar to you, and you see no reason to be nervous.

You start by the alcohol aisle, just to get that out of the way, and nearly breathe a sigh of relief when you don’t find anyone there. That could have gotten very messy. After quickly checking that everything is in order, you start walking again. Candy aisle it is.

As you approach it though, you have to note how quiet the store is, much more than you’d expect with three frat boys stealing and probably eating candy. It’s odd, so you’re not all that surprised when you reach it and you find it empty too, with nothing out of place as far as you can tell. Shit, you don’t want to be playing these games. You spin on your heels, ready to do what you probably should have done in the first place and make an announcement with the mic, when you see a man standing, thirty feet away from you.

The figure, you recognize immediately. A black hoodie and, of fucking course, the ghostface mask from the Scream franchise. You physically couldn’t roll your eyes any harder than you do then.

“Hilarious,” you say. “You got me. I’ll be waiting for you at check-out once you and your friends decide that you’re done playing around with minimum-wage workers.” …who are not getting paid nearly enough for this shit.

Since you’re not walking past that guy, you take a few steps towards a different aisle. When you reach it, though, there’s another man, exact same attire, exact same frozen stance. Twenty feet away from you this time. You let out a dry, unamused chuckle. You still don’t want to walk towards him, but you’re also all too aware of the fact that there’s a fucking third one hiding in wait somewhere. These guys are all bark and no bite, you’d bet on that, but you’re no less uneasy, eyes darting around to figure out an exit route.

You take a step back. The man take a step forward. You grit your teeth.

“Stop that.”

He takes another step. Fucking asshole.

You turn around, and right fucking there, right behind you, is the third one.

You scream. It just comes straight out of you before you can control yourself, and even if he’s trying to keep up the façade, you see the guy’s shoulders shake in laughter. Shit, you’re not doing this. You dart past him, intent on going back to the front of the store, but by then, the first guy has moved to be in your way. He walks towards you in a way that you’re sure is supposed to be menacing, shoulders squared, and you’re getting ready to give him a piece of your mind when, out of nowhere, Seungmin’s fist connects with the guy’s jaw.

You take way too much pleasure in the way he falls down and hits one of the display units, which leads to all the packs of pasta in it to land on him. They’re not heavy enough for it to hurt, but it still gives you intense Schadenfreude. While you’re still staring, Seungmin grabs your shoulders, looking at you with panic in his eyes, checking that you’re okay. Once he spots the two other men, he pulls you behind him, standing between you and them. It’s both endearing and pretty useless.

“Start running,” he mumbles to you before you can explain the situation.

“Dude, what the hell!” the man he just hit protests behind you, extricating himself from under all the pasta.

“Yeah, uh, these three are the frat bros,” you inform him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“C’mon, man,” one of the two that are still standing says as he pulls his mask off, “that’s not cool.”

“You better hope he’s not injured, ‘cause—”

“They were trying to get themselves banned from the only convenience store near the college that’s opened 24/7,” you interrupt, narrowing your eyes at them, “and they figured that harassing the employees was a great way of achieving their goals.”

They seem to hesitate at that.

“It wasn’t harassment…” one of them says weakly.

“Of course it is!” Seungmin snaps, voice filled with more anger than you’ve ever heard. “We’re working here! And it’s a fucked-up thing to do, if you want to scare people because you think it’s funny, at least do it on people who have a choice!”

The three guys are starting to look more and more sheepish, in a way that you’d almost find sweet — aw, grown men who have no concept of boundaries but can still learn! — if you weren’t so pissed.

“Okay, okay, we’re leaving,” they all start saying as they take off their hoodies, giving you more than enough time to memorize the name of their frat, help their friends up and start walking away. “But you won’t ban us then, right?” one of them has the absolute nerve to ask.

“We’ll think about it!” is your shouted reply at that, which seems to satisfy them.

“We will?” Seungmin asks you quietly.

“Obviously we’ll ban them,” you reply, no louder than him. Fucking assholes.

When he turns around to face you, you’re careful to check his expression. His fists are still clenched, his jaw still tense.

“Are you okay?”

He exhales, long and hard.

“Yes.” He answers with surprising strength. Then a grin. “It felt great, actually.”

You watch him open and close his hand a few times. His knuckles are slightly bruised, but it doesn’t seem to bother him.

“Are you okay?” he asks you after a few seconds.

The question catches you off-guard. You have to take a moment to think about it, and when you do, you let out a sigh.

“I’m glad you got here when you did,” you tell him honestly. “I knew it was them, but it still was a bad experience.” Again, not the first time you’ve had to deal with weirdos in the store, so you’re not even that shaken, but having Seungmin to lean on for sure plays a big part in that. “We really need to get back to the front, we’re not supposed to leave the registers unattended,” you say with a grimace. Actually, if the boss decides to randomly check the footage for tonight, you’re as good as fired.

His hand wraps around your wrist before you can walk away.

“You should go out with me,” he says, all in one block, when you turn around.

You stare.

“What?”

His mouth hangs open as red forms on his cheekbones first before it spreads to his whole face.

“Sh– Sorry, I– That was the adrenaline talking, don’t– Don’t–”

Ah, he’s just too cute.

“No, I quite liked what the adrenaline was saying, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you say. “Could I hear it again?”

When he turns to face you, he’s just as red as before. He clears his throat and is still refusing to look you in the eye when he speaks.

“Would you— Would you like to go on a date. With me.”

“Yeah,” you say, “I would”. You could tease, you’re certainly tempted to do so, but it’s clear that it took a lot from him to even ask, and you don’t want him to think that you’re unsure. Because, well, you’re not. You’d love to go on a date with him. It makes your heart flutter in a soft, fragile way, and you know that anything after that will need to be carefully nurtured, if you wish for it to bloom, but that is something you can deal with later. For now… “Would you mind if I gave you a little preview? As a thank you?”

Seungmin swallows, then very, very slowly, he nods.

You push yourself on your tiptoes, holding both hands behinds your back, and close your eyes while you press your lips against his. It’s soft. Sweet. Your lips move against his gently, and you feel him tilt his head to kiss you back while he stands still, with the exception of one of his hands coming up to grab your shoulders, to keep you stable or to keep you from pulling away too fast, you can’t tell.

Heat spreads through you when his long fingers caress your arm, and you feel your face warm as the kiss intensifies, without either of you daring to move, too afraid of breaking the spell.

When you do pull away, you meet his eyes for a second, before he looks away, trying to hide how wide he’s smiling.

Ah, you just can’t wait for that date.

again, don't know if this was any good but i hope it entertained you :) would love to know your thoughts and if you don't feel like leaving a comment (i don't bite i swear), please consider reblogging, it helps showing the story to others &lt;3

permanent taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard

[alloftheimaginesblog]

an old friend, a new start part iii {r. lupin}

plot: Fourteen years after graduating Hogwarts, you’re offered a job to be the new Muggle Music Professor. Funnily enough, your old friend, Remus Lupin, is also offered a new job at Hogwarts that year.

in this chapter: remus tries to make amends

character: remus lupin x female reader

PART ONE, PART TWO

Days had passed since the full moon - since you had confided your feelings in Remus and he had rejected you - and you had been hiding away in your office for the last two days. To be perfectly truthful, you were hideously embarrassed. You had put your heart on the line and Remus had crushed it far too easily.

At first, you'd been angry. You'd been so angry, hating how cowardly he was, hating how Snape had been right about him, hating that he didn't mirror your feelings. Soon, that anger turned to shame. Then shame turned to sadness. Had you just lost your best friend? Had you just thrown your oldest friendship away? Sadness turned to quiet denial. Maybe Remus was right. Maybe you had let yourself get carried away in a childhood crush and being here, being back in Hogwarts with him... Maybe he was right.

You didn't really know where to go from here. You didn't know if you could show your face in front of Snape or even worse, Remus. What would you say? Oh hi Remus, yeah I'm just fantastic after I poured my heart out to you and you just tore up my heart like it was paper! I'm great. You wondered if he would even speak to you. The things he'd said... You'd put it down as false words but the more you repeated his words in your head the more you started to believe them.

"We are colleagues. Nothing more."

Was he right?

It was on Monday morning that you had to be a little bit braver, you had classes after all. You went down for breakfast at 6.30am on the dot. You'd even went so far as to bring a small basket. Not wanting to risk an awkward run in, you thought it best to fill your basket and take it back to your class to eat before lessons began.

You hadn't been counting on Remus already being in the Great Hall though.

Your heart skipped a beat. There were a few handfuls of students but as for adults it was just you and Remus. You avoided his gaze as you walked towards the teachers table, jaw clenched as you tried you absolute hardest to be nonchalant but from the way your eyes darted to him every few steps and your racing heart, it was obvious that you weren't doing as good a job as you wanted. No, he wasn't right and how dare he convince you that he was! You weren't just colleagues. Anger bubbled in your stomach as you drew closer and closer to him.

"Good morning, Professor Lupin," you said tightly with a forced smile as you began to pluck some breakfast pastries from the teacher's table and put them in your basket.

As much as you tried to hide it, he noticed the tremble of nervousness in your hand and the feathering in your clenched jaw. Lupin's heart ached, "(y/n)..." The sound of his voice made you tense up, frozen in place as your heart thudded in your chest, "I- We need to talk. I-" He swallowed, "I didn't mean what I said."

There was the anger again. You scoffed, "Well you said it, didn't you? Must've been some truth behind it."

Your anger was to be expected. Remus was actually surprised that you hadn't hexed him, "Please let me explain, come we'll take breakfast and go to my classroom and I'll explain. Please."

"Oh I hardly think that's appropriate for colleagues, Professor Lupin," your voice dripped with venom like a snake puncturing right through to his heart, "we wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong impression or have them think that we're acting like children, now would we?"

You didn't give him a chance to explain as you turned on your heels and sped away, the croissant in your hand squished and crumbling due to your anger. You shoved it in your basket then shoved right past Snape who had witnessed from afar your tense exchange with Remus. He had a smirk which screamed 'I told you so' but you pushed past and hurried back to your class.

Remus watched you go and released a long breath, "Oh, Prongs," he whispered hopelessly, "how do I fix this?" He knew that if James were here, he would've sorted him out but alone... Remus had no idea what to do. Would he really rather lose you completely as opposed to letting you in?

Severus breezed past him, "I see that went well," he muttered as he sat a few seats down from Remus who turned on him with narrowed eyes, "Your other half seems rather upset with you Remus... Something wrong?"

"What do you know?"

Severus shrugged but the smirk on his face said it all, "I know only that you are a coward. I told Professor (y/l/n) that too but obviously, she didn't heed my advice." Remus growled and without another word, he stood abruptly and stormed out of the Great Hall.

Severus smiled as he took a sip of his tea.

For the next week, all you felt was anger. You were so unbelievably annoyed at him. You couldn't understand why or how he could say such horrible things to you. You were his best friend and all of a sudden because he got a little uncomfortable with adult feelings he had just pushed you away? It just didn't make sense to you.

Of course, you'd told Minerva all about over a cup of chamomile tea as she could tell you needed all the calming remedies you could get, "So how long has it been since you spoke to him?"

"A week."

"And you've not heard his side of the story?"

You frowned, "His side?!" You exclaimed, "Minerva, come on!"

Minerva rolled her eyes, "I think, my dear, what you need is some tough love." You blinked, "Yes, what he did was wrong and hurtful and your anger is certainly justified-"

"Thank you."

"But-"

"But?!"

Minerva gave you a pointed look which you knew to be a warning to stop interrupting her, "But," she continued, "have you ever considered his perspective of things?" You were silent and she smirked slightly, "He lost everyone he cared about, including you when your friendship fizzled. He had no one after that. He barely got by and he didn't form any sort of relationship or friendship with anyone else. For twelve years, whilst you lived your life probably experienced love and lots of friendships am I right?-" you gave a small nod, "he didn't. So how hard do you think it would be for you if after twelve years of pure isolation you were thrust back together with a former friend? Despite how he feels, this is all so new again to him, it's a new and unnatural and..." She trailed off, expecting you to finish the sentence.

Your facial expression had softened significantly and McGonagall sat back in her chair taking a long sip of tea as she smiled triumphantly, "He's scared."

McGonagall hummed as she swallowed her tea, "Wouldn't you be?" Her voice was soft, "So yes, while he is indeed in the wrong for saying those things to you, it came from a place of fear not hatred. He's protecting himself and protecting you... I think he deserves to say his piece to you, do you not agree?"

You sighed, "Yeah... I... I hadn't thought about that." It was true, you'd been wrapped in your bubble of anger, furious that he did this but not trying to understand why, "You're right, Minerva. I need to go talk to him. Talk not shout."

As you left Minerva's office, your stomach flipped uncomfortably. You hated being wrong, you hated having to swallow your pride it just wasn't a pleasant experience. You checked your watch for the time and realised that Lupin would be teaching his third years soon so you hurried along and up various staircases to get to his classroom. You didn't know what you were going to say but you knew that you were going to listen.

Remus was inside his classroom shuffling through various essays his students had written him when you knocked on his door. He didn't hide his surprise at all, "(y/n)," he said, voice quiet, "What are you doing here?" He truly thought that you would never speak to him again.

"I wanted to apologise for-"

He cut you off, "You have nothing to apologise for. I was so out of order and so monstrous to you. I apologise. I am so deeply, truly sorry. I never meant it." He was being sincere, you could tell by his eyes, "I-" he had so much that he wanted to say but the clock chimed and he knew students would be arriving soon. He cursed which made you smile slightly, "I've got a lesson just now," he thought for a second then suggested, "why don't you stay for it? It's just my third years and we're just going to be fighting a Boggart." He gestured over to the wardrobe that stood in the middle of the class, "It shouldn't take too long. We can speak afterwards-" because I have so much I want to tell you, he thought.

You nodded, "Okay," you agreed quietly.

As students began to filter in, you smiled as various greeted you. Harry, Hermione and Ron all seemed positively happy that you were here. You let Remus tell his class what they'd be doing, teaching them how to use the Riddikulus spell to change the Boggart. You were perched on a stool to the side of the class, watching him with curious eyes. He was a natural at this. He was so good at teaching, at holding the attention of the young students. He was so clever and he was using that for good; to teach and help students learn. You caught yourself smiling like a schoolgirl at him and quickly forced yourself to remain straight faced but as you looked at the students you saw Hermione look at you with a knowing smile.

"Okay, ready and-" Remus opened the wardrobe door brandishing... Snape?

Your head whipped to who's Boggart it was and you understood. Poor Neville Longbottom. You'd heard first hand how cruel Snape could be to the quiet boy so his fear was understood. Neville used the Riddikulus to transform Snape's robes into his grandmother's clothing. It was you who gave the loudest laugh in that classroom. Neville grinned at you. Ron Weasley was up next turning a spider to a spider on skates. The class continued until it got to Harry and you stood up realising what his worst fear could be. Would it be Voldemort? If so, that wasn't something you wished the class would see. The Boggart twisted to become a large dark Dementor, floating towards him, its bony fingers extended to him. It truly was a wretched thing. Harry blanched and you moved forwards-

But Remus was quicker.

He slid in front of Harry with ease and the Dementor twisted and transformed into...

The whole class gasped.

It was you. You on the ground dead beneath a large white full moon. Your hand covered your mouth, breath trembling beneath them as your heart thudded in your chest. You dying was Remus's worst fear. You put the puzzle together Remus's true worst fear was killing you on a full moon. He did care for you.

Remus snapped a loud, "Riddikulus!" and the moon blew up like a balloon, your image fading from view, and then began to release all of the air from it, flying around the room until Remus used his wand to throw it back inside the wardrobe. You were still staring at the space where your body had been lying. Remus's cheeks were scarlet as he quickly muttered a dismissal to his students but they were unmoving and when you looked at them, you found them all staring back at you. They were all shocked minus one Hermione Granger who was smiling.

"I said class dismissed!" Remus exclaimed, "Out with you all, go!" There was a tenseness to his voice that rarely appeared so upon hearing it, the class scampered. The whispers and murmurs were loud as they all left and then, there was silence.

Remus had his back turned to you, breathing deeply, and you could see that his ears were still scarlet. For a moment, neither of you moved. It was you who broke the silence by stepping forwards and saying quietly, "We'll be the talk of the school now..." It was a pathetic attempt at a joke.

Remus swallowed, "I suppose you might believe that I truly didn't mean anything I said that night now."

"I always knew," you said, "I just didn't understand why you said then in the first place but I do now."

His shoulders sagged and he turned to you, cheeks still a rosy pink, "And what do you think?" He eyed you curiously.

"You're scared. I thought it before I entered this class and now I know it to be true. You're scared to let me in... You're scared in case you hurt me." He gave a barely noticeable nod. You were right, "I understand how isolated you've been over the last twelve years and I know that it's hard to trust other people and yourself. I know how difficult it is to open yourself up to the possibility of getting hurt or in your case, getting someone else hurt but... I trust you, Remus. I always have. Do you think you could trust yourself too?"

"It's not quite as easy as that, (y/n)."

"Remus..." You wanted so desperately to cry but that would achieve nothing so instead, you swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to tell him just how much you cared for him, "who was the one person you confided being a wolf to? The rest of the boys figured it out themselves but you... you told me. Why was that? Why for six months was I the only one who knew?"

"I have something to tell you; something that kills me every day of my life. I'm so ashamed of it and I swore to never tell anyone but- but I feel safe with you. I trust you and I trust that you won't judge me as harshly as others might. You're the one person I truly trust, (y/n)."

Remus faltered, "Because... You were and you remain the one person I trust so wholly and completely." It was the truth.

"You've noticed that I get sick every month. I disappear for a few days and come back a very pale, exhausted version of myself... You always ask why, always concerned about me and I brush it off. There's a reason for that. There's a reason for it all."

A small smile pulled your lips upwards, "You know I trust you the same, too. I've never thought for a moment that you were a monster." Remus looked down, "You have never been a monster and you never will be, despite your condition and flaws and all. You're Remus. You're my Remus." You stepped closed to him and gently, so gently, your fingertips traced the long scar over his face, "My beautiful, silly Remus."

"I'm a werewolf, (y/n)." He couldn't look at you and instead focused on his hands which were clenched together in his lap, "That's what the scars are. I was attacked when I was younger and... every month, I turn."

You could see his jaw clench, the muscles feathering, as he swallowed hard, "Why won't you let yourself be happy, Rem?" You whispered. The way you looked up at him, doe eyed and lips pink and plump.

His eyes were closed, his heart hammering in his chest, as he waited for you to say something but all he heard was a shuffling sound. His heart sank thinking that you'd gotten up and left but he gasped when he felt your hands slide over and into his, slowly prying his fists open to hold his trembling hands.

To be honest, he didn't actually know why this was a hurdle that he couldn't get over. He didn't know why he found it so impossible to let the one person he loved into his life. He had a good reason to but you were here, offering your love to him... so why did he not want it?

"I trust you, Remus Lupin. I trust you first and forever."

A pained expression flashed over Remus's face. He was torn. Despite not meaning any of what he said because you weren't just colleagues, you were more, you had always been more. Remus Lupin was in love with you and he always had been but was he ready to admit that to you? Was he ready to fully admit it to himself? He didn't trust himself, didn't trust his condition and Remus thought so lowly of himself that he didn't understand how someone, especially someone like you, could love him. For the last twelve years, he hadn't let anyone else in. He hadn't trusted anyone, not even himself. He had long since forgotten what it was like to let someone in - fully in - and it terrified him. Remus's mouth opened as though he were going to tell you and god, as he stared into your eyes he really wanted to tell you but there was something in the way. Himself.

"(y/n)..." The way he spoke, the tone alone told you the answer. Quickly, you straightened and stepped back as your own walls built right back up, "I... I don't know what to say."

You forced a smile, shaking your head, "You don't have to say anything, Rem. It's fine." Your voice was too light, too breezy for the heaviness of the conversation.

Remus stepped closer but you stepped away immediately. You were pulling away from him, "I'm just- I'm not ready." It was the truth, he simply just wasn't ready yet and it broke your heart.

"I know," you nodded, giving him another smile yet this one was sad, "it's okay, seriously. I- Just- do you believe me when I say that I trust you and when I tell you that I- that I love you?"

Remus blinked, "I... I know that you care and you trust me somewhat but I don't think you realise the full potential of my-"

"Can I have a go?" You asked, sweeping past him as you gestured to the wardrobe which held the Boggart. Remus gave a confused nod. You opened the door and stepped back, allowing the Boggart the space to transform into... Remus Lupin dead on the floor. Remus took a deep breath, "It's been my boggart since we were in fourth year," you told him as you stared at the lifeless image of him on the floor. You swallowed hard, "it was during your transformation that we had the lesson. I threatened to hex the boys if they dared to tell you... Riddikulus!" The Boggart was forced back into the wardrobe.

"Why... Why did you show me?" Remus's voice was small.

You cleared your throat, "Because I need you to know how deeply I care about you. I need you to know that there is still one person alive on this Earth who thinks the world of you and always has. I need you to know that there is hope still left for you despite the loneliness. I'm not begging you to be with me, that's your choice and I'll respect it... I just need you to know that I am here and I am all in if you are. I..." You couldn't find the words and you desperately needed to prove to him that you were speaking the truth so you did the only thing you could think to do.

You kissed him.

It was soft and only lasted a second or two but it got the message across. With trembling hands, you pulled back and straightened your robes. Judging from the way a red hue crept up Remus's neck to his face and ears, you presumed the message got across. You whispered a goodbye before you left the classroom, heart racing and head spinning. It was your last chance to prove to him that you loved him, that you cared enough to have him flaws and all.

Remus sank into a chair after you'd gone, eyes focused on the spot where the Boggart had transformed into his dead body as his fingertips brushed his lips gently.

The handful of times that you'd seen Remus in the following week, the atmosphere was rather tense and awkward. Despite the two of you agreeing to just be friends, there always seemed to be an elephant in the room; unspoken words always on the tip of your tongue. So honestly, the two of you had been avoiding each other just a little bit.

That was, until, Harry Potter asked Remus if he could learn more about his parents again.

"Can I have another look at the photos you have, Professor?" Harry asked you as he sat forwards on his seat.

You already had it looked out, it was in your desk drawer so you pulled it out and handed it to him. For a few minutes, there was silence as Harry looked through the photo album. You evaded your eyes from the photo of you and Remus as Harry flicked by it. Remus glanced over at you, taking notice that your eyes were set on staring out of the window and not at anything that reminded you of him. His heart panged. It was all his fault and he just wanted to make everything okay again.

"What was he like?" Harry asked curiously.

"Your father was-"

The boy cut Remus off, "No, not my dad... Black. Sirius Black. What was he like before he went dark?"

It was you who answered. Remus was rather shocked by the question, unable to answer or even comprehend an answer, "Harry, I don't want to upset you or make you feel a certain type of way because when we were at Hogwarts, Sirius and your father were the absolute best of friends. I think hearing the good things about Sirius might upset you more than you realise."

Harry frowned, "I just..." He shook his head, "I don't understand how his supposed best friend could betray them, it just doesn't make sense to me."

"Nor us," Remus agreed softly, "Believe me, Harry, I've gone over it again and again in my head. I've thought of our seven years at Hogwarts searching for the slightest glimmer of darkness but... I've never found any."

Harry looked to you, hopeful that you could give him something but you shook your head, "For twelve years, Harry, I've been trying to figure it out."

Harry thought for a moment before sighing, "Well, what was he like anyway?" You asked if he was sure to which he nodded.

"He was the thing that kept us all together, I think. From the word 'go' him and James were the best of friends, thick as thieves. If there was trouble, oh you just knew it started with James and Sirius and ended with me and Remus cleaning up the pieces with Peter running behind us." Remus smiled slightly at your words, "I am so sorry that I can't give you the answer as to why he turned bad, Harry."

"Do you hate him?" Harry asked all of a sudden, "I hate him. I hate him for how he betrayed them. And all the while being my godfather!"

Your eyes widened, "Who told you that?"

Remus frowned at the boy who realised that he'd said too much and slunk back into his seat, "I overheard Professor McGonagall and Fudge talking about it." Harry admitted, "It's true then?"

Remus nodded, "Yes... Sirius Black is your godfather, Harry, and that's why Dementors are here and why Dumbledore's inflicted a strict curfew. They think Black's back to kill you, finish the Potter bloodline once and for all."

He repeated the question, eyes boring into yours for some reason, "Professor (y/n), do you hate him?"

Your stomach flipped uncomfortably. This was something you'd wrestled with for years, "I love the version of Sirius that I knew. The boy who could always make me laugh, who was fiercely protective of his friends - he hexed the first boy who broke my heart you know - the boy who would pull me up to dance around the Common Room. He was brilliant. I love those memories I have of him... But the Sirius Black that I knew would never do what he did to James, Lily, Peter and yourself. That's... That's not my Sirius Black. I don't know what happened to my - our Sirius," you gave Remus a look, "but I hate what he became. I hate that he did that to his best friends. I hate him for what he did, yes."

Harry seemed satisfied with your answer, "Can I hang onto this for a while?" He asked, referring to the photo album, "I don't have many photos or anything of them and it would be-"

"Of course," you said with a soft smile, "I heard what happened at your Quidditch match on Saturday, how are you feeling?" You hadn't attended the match but it was the talk of the school. There had been a Dementor on the Quidditch pitch and it had caused Harry to fall from his broom. Dumbledore had made sure he landed safely but it didn't mean he was completely unhurt.

Harry nodded, "I'm alright. I just... I don't know why Dementors affect me so much. I wish there was a way to stop them."

Remus opened his mouth and you looked to him with a smile, "Well, Harry, there is a spell that casts them away," Remus said softly, "and I would be more than happy to teach you it."

Harry beamed, "Really?"

"He's the best teacher for it," you said to Harry with a warm smile.

"It's not the easiest of spells to conjure so it will take a lot of practice." Harry agreed eagerly with everything Remus was telling him, "And I think it best to not tell anyone about learning it, you know how people can be, I think we keep it between us." Again, Harry nodded, "Why don't you come to my office tomorrow after your last class before dinner, we can practice then?"

"Thank you, Professor."

Harry asked a few more questions about parents, things that no one else would be able to tell him. What was my dad's favourite subject? Did my mum get good grades? What was the wedding like? Was my dad good at Quidditch? What did they want to work as? And after another twenty minutes, you bid goodnight to Harry who scampered off clutching the photo album with everything he had.

Remus hovered in your office as you washed the teacups in the kitchen next door. He noticed you had another photo album laying on the table. Curiously, he picked it up and started to flick through it. It was photos of your life after Hogwarts, after James and Lily's deaths, after Peter's death and Sirius's imprisonment... after him. There were various faces, none of which he knew or recognised, but he with every turn of the page his curiosity only grew larger. Photos of you posing at monuments, photos of you laughing with a dark haired woman and blonde woman, photos of you drinking Firewhisky and then he stopped turning when he hit the next section, photos of you with a dark haired very handsome man. There were lots of photos of you and him. Photos where he smiled at you, eyes full of love, photos of you laughing with him, head thrown back as you grinned at the sky, photos of the two of you dancing in the moonlight... a photo of you kissing him and pulling away to grin at the camera. It hurt him knowing how much of a good life you had that he wasn't a part of. He didn't know why it hurt so much to see you happy, to see you living; to see you in love. But my god, it felt like his insides were being torn out through his chest. He hadn't been a part of your life for so long and it hurt knowing that. It hurt knowing that for a decade, you had moved on. You had loved.

You walked through from the kitchen and back to your office where you saw him, photo album in his hands. You raised your eyebrows, surprised that he was going through it but not upset or annoyed. You walked over, seeing the photos he was on, "That was from a rather... odd time in my life."

Remus looked up slightly startled, "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

You shook your head, sitting on the edge of the desk beside him, "That's Ren," you said, pointing at the man who you had seemed so happy with, "I met him through..." you flipped a few pages back and pointed at the dark haired girl in your photos, "Rei. I met her about two years after we lost contact. I had gone travelling around the world to try and force myself to forget about James and Lily. I met Rei and Grace the other girl in the photo. The three of us travelled together for a few months and then Ren joined us, he's Rei's twin brother. They were all Muggles, never knew anything about wizards or magic and I never told them."

Remus's jaw clenched. Somehow knowing his name, personifying him made him feel so much worse.

"Our relationship developed really quickly. He was going back home in two months so the two of us wanted to experience as much as we could together. It all happened very quickly, very heavy... He asked me to come back home with him, move with him, told me that he loved me, he wanted to marry me."

"And- And you didn't want to?"

You shook your head, "I was running from my past. I was caught up in this dream. When he told me that he loved me, the illusion shattered." Remus asked what you meant, "For two years, I jumped from thing to thing to distract myself from the loss of our friends and that's what I'd been doing. Travelling with barely any money, taking up odd jobs here and there to make enough to get me to a new city, making random friends and travelling with them for a while. When I met Ren, he was... fun. He was safe, you know? He made me feel good about myself but... I was using him to forget about everything else in my life. I had lied about everything, who I was, where I came from, what I did for a living... The only true thing I told him was my name. The next day, I came home. Moved back in with my parents. Got a job in a pub and tried to heal."

Remus's face softened.

"It took a while for me to save up enough to move out. I worked in the pub and did tutoring for all sorts of instruments on the side. Took years for me to have a decent night's sleep without dreaming about Sirius, James and Lily..." You plucked another photo album from your desk, "This album was the subsequent years until now." You flicked through it, "I tried to focus on finding joy again." You pointed to a picture, "Bought a shop, turned it into a music shop. Tutoring on the side still, offerings lessons in-shop as well."

Remus was fascinated. He wasn't jealous or angry now knowing the real story of what happened with Ren, now he was just curious.

"Built that up. Still have it, I have someone running it for me just now whilst I'm here. When I saw the advertisement for a Muggle Music teacher here... I jumped at the chance. I'm sure you did the same. I had removed myself from the Wizarding World pretty much because again it was all too painful but when I saw the job come back, I thought that coming back would be the final step in my healing journey."

"And has it been?"

You frowned, taking the two photo albums and tucking them away, "I don't think the healing process is ever truly done. Seeing you again, being back in Hogwarts with you again... it's done a lot of good for me, honestly but that doesn't mean it's been easy. Healing isn't linear... might not ever be done healing."

"Do you regret coming back?"

You shook your head, "Not at all. I reconnected with my best friend and I get to spend time with James's son... Absolutely no regrets."

Remus felt rather ashamed that he'd gotten so jealous over looking at your photos with a former lover. It hurt him in ways it shouldn't because you were here, you'd been offering him the chance of happiness and he had rejected you multiple times so truly, he had no right to be jealous over it.

"I..." He frowned, unsure where to start, "After James and Lily, I pulled away from you when I should've clung to you. I was scared, honestly. Scared of losing the last person I loved... I tried to slot into the Muggle world too but it wasn't too kind to me. I couldn't keep steady employment when you know of my condition. After a few months of me steadily phoning in sick for a week at a time every four weeks, I usually ended up being sacked. I barely had enough money for my rent and for food so I had no chance of making Wolfsbane to aid me... My mother had passed but I didn't dare go back home to my father despite how happy he was to see me. I couldn't endanger him so my only choice was to take odd jobs. Jobs that were far below my level of skill and expertise but I had to."

He clicked his tongue, "Sometimes I'd pop into Diagon Alley and would find some Wizards who needed help clearing out a Boggart or things like that so would do that but most of the time it was jobs like cleaning a pub, helping out at a farm, deliveries... Mostly that sort of thing... I had seen the Defence post being advertised each year and it was Dumbledore himself actually who sought me out this year. He convinced me to come... There were a lot of times where I hadn't enough money for the basic necessities. I still don't, as you can see by my clothes and belongings. Everything I own is second hand and in tatters." He felt ashamed again. Shame burned hot on his face and in the pit of his stomach. Poor, penniless Remus his mind taunted, "In twelve years, you seem to have accomplished a lot and I have accomplished very little." Remus continued, "That's part of the reason I cannot be with you. Aside from being a werewolf, I have nothing to my name. I'm poor and I can't give you the life you deserve... that and I could maul you at any full moon." The last part was said with some form of bitter humour.

Your heart ached for him, "Just because you have less that a person does not mean that you are less than them," you reminded him gently, taking his cold hand and grasping it tightly in your own, "Penniless or not, Rem, that's not why I care the way I do about you." For a moment, hope surged inside him warming the coldest cockles of his heart but quickly, he extinguished that hope, sliding his hand from yours. You tried not to let the action hurt you or - at the very lease - try not make it obvious that it did.

The two of you had experienced completely different experiences in the last twelve years. One had gone off, making a better life for themselves and in some respects had been rather successful and the other had suffered, barely skimming by. Yet neither of you were entirely different people. Yes, Remus's face was tired with more lines and a weary look in his eye. He wasn't as brave as he once was, he was isolated but you knew that your Remus was still in there, you would often catch glimpses of him every so often. You were just as outspoken as you once were though you were angrier, less happy. Remus noticed that when you concentrated on something you always frowned whereas before your eyebrows would raise in wonder. Different but not completely. Partly a stranger, partly familiar. It was a weird sort of limbo the two of you were caught in.

Remus swallowed and cleared his throat after a few minutes of silence, "I should go." You let him go and once he was gone, you found yourself closing your eyes, fingertips dancing over your other palm as you tried your hardest to retain the details of how his hand felt in yours.

Remus stood outside your classroom, heart beating like a drum. Remus had always been a very level-headed person, always listening to his head and never to his heart but tonight was different. His mind whirred with ideas, questions, thoughts and fantasies that he couldn't stamp down. The light tendrils of hope that he had thought he extinguished reached out wrapping themselves around his heart and squeezing until it was almost all covered. His head fell back against the door of your classroom as he squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to fight his own compulsion.

"Bugger it to all Hell."

And then in not Remus Lupin fashion, he threw open your classroom door and marched towards your office with determined stomps. He didn't hesitate.

"You hesitate, Moony," James said with a shake of the head, "Every time there's an opportunity to tell Ghost, you hesitate!"

"What's wrong with hesitating?"

"You hesitate and it means you think and your brain is its own worst enemy! Don't hesitate, don't think... just do."

Remus opened your office door and found you were still perched on the edge of the desk, staring intently down at your hands with an unreadable expression. It took until Remus was halfway to you to realise that he was there.

"Rem?" You asked confused as you looked up at him, "What are you-"

Just do.

His hands, steady and warm, planted themselves on your cheeks and you barely had time to register the fact he was holding your face when he was kissing you. It was a bold, brave kiss and fireworks seemed to explode in your stomach. He was here. Your Remus. You melded into his touch, hands finding themselves clasping his shirt, you could feel his chest beneath it, feel his heart beating wildly under your fingers. The kiss was deep and passionate and Remus's body moved into yours, his leg between yours but the need for air was too great and all too soon, Remus had detached his lips from yours leaving you both breathless and rather flushed. His forehead fell to yours, pressing against it gently as you panted and then he pulled away slightly. His pupils were dilated and his skin had a rather healthy rosiness to it.

He opened his mouth and then he... hesitated and he began to think, "Goodnight, (y/n)," he whispered, breath fanning over your face before he completely pulled himself away from you leaving your office and your classroom rather hurriedly. You stayed staring at the place where his face had been, happy and rosy, as your fingers moved to your lips feeling the ghost of his on yours as you tried to comprehend what had just happened.

Remus's face burned scarlet the whole walk two floors down to his classroom and when he got there, he cast the locking charm so that no one could bother him. He went straight to his office and through to the adjoining bedroom where he collapsed onto the bed, hands over his face as he tried to calm his drumming heart.

It took a long time for you to wrap your head around the events of the last few minutes with Remus. Yes, you had kissed him the previous week but this was different. This was Remus kissing you. This was Remus finally allowing himself to feel for you, letting his heart take over for a change. This was entirely different. Your hands shook with excitement as you got dressed for bed and when you finally settled beneath the duvet, your mind reeled with questions of what would be.

Remus stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep, as his mind berated him over and over. He felt stupid. He felt silly for letting his heart take over. With a loud groan, he stood up, dressing back into his outdoor clothes. A walk, he decided firmly, a walk to calm the nerves. Memories of ghosts past continued to creep up on him.

"Moony, you seriously have got to stop thinking!" Sirius hissed to him as he joined the two boys by the fireplace in the Common Room, "You just have to tell her how you feel."

"What if she doesn't feel the same?" Remus asked with a pointed look to James who threw himself back dramatically with his arms in the air in an exasperated show, "I'm-"

"I'll hex you if the next word to leave your mouth is 'dangerous' or 'a monster'," James snarled before his face softened, "Moony, we know for a fact she likes you."

"(y/n)'s bloody told us before you dolt!" Sirius scowled, "You're a Gryffindor, Moony, use some of that lion courage and tell her."

Remus's mind was made up and he slunk into the red armchair, "But I'm not a lion, am I? I'm a wolf."

His two best friends exchanged tired looks, "But if you never tell her, if you never take the chance... Will you ever be truly happy?" It was James who spoke, "Will she ever be truly happy if the boy she adores never makes a move?"

"No, I suppose you're right," Remus said softly, "but... she'd be safe."

tag list: @foodpills@fairyy27@queen-of-disaster-222@moon-witchs-world@poppysavage11@wildtigerlili@lupinandtonks@eury-dice3@qweengigi@magical-spit@jennifer0305 CALLSIGNWIDOW SPIDERMANSOLOSURFAV ROARHAVENSEND RYOIII  CHAOSOFMANYFANDOMS  BONZA-BEAR FLUFFYBUNNYU REESEEVERHART FANBOYLUVR

[eveledoze]

Which tadc ship do you like more? Funnybunny or Showtime?

oh well long-post comes-

okay i did a little searching, since i often don't understand such ship names. if google doesn't lie to me, then the first one is Pomni/Jax, and the second is Pomni/Caine.

damn, I thought funnybunny was the name for Ragatha/Jax 💔💔

i don't ship Pomni/Jax but i find the pairing cute. i don't sense any special dynamic between them, Jax just makes fun of her the same way he makes fun of everyone else because he's a jerk (i say this lovingly). when i discovered that this pairing was the most popular in the fandom, i didn’t really understand why, since i wouldn’t say that there was anything particularly interesting going on between these two. I think the dynamics between Jax and Ragatha were more distinct, which I immediately noticed, they had tension and i really liked it x) but then, after thinking about it a little, i realized why Pomni/Jax is the most popular ship (I guess?? it's just my supposition) — people combined two of the most main characters, one of whom is a badass-tumblr-sexyman, and the second is an angsty ordinary person with whom people could identify themselves. anyway i just find it funny that so many people like this ship. i saved fanarts of these two a couple of times because i thought they were cute. to be honest, kitsch's (@ bunnyjesters/ nuzipilled) works probably influenced my opinion about this ship the most. arts with Pomni and Jax from kitsch is probably my favorite among all the other fanarts for this couple, i think that he well preserves their canon behavior and characters despite the fact that the pairing itself in the cartoon is non-canon, and their interactions in his art feel quite realistic for me! i love how kitsch draws them and how he uses gestures and body language to show their emotions, it's very, very cute. so yeah, i don't ship them, but i do find some of the fanart of them cute. i drew this a while ago, so have this if it will make you happy 🌸

now Kaine/Pomni...ahmmm, to be honest, i was even more surprised that this is probably the second most popular pairing in the fandom? :D apparently it really comes across often and haha, i don’t understand it... i’ve never been interested in the dynamics of student/teacher or employee/boss, in my understanding there can be no romance in their relationship, maximum platonic, family relationships, understanding each other. Kaine is very quirky and doesn't seem like he's interested in romance (i generally like Kaine/Moon, but i really think Kaine is just confused by Moon's behavior since he's not interested in her romantically x)). it's more like he treats all the guys in circus like friends, colleagues or something like that. so yeah, it's weird for me to see romantic stuff with Pomni/Caine, but like the first one, occasionally i might come across fanart with them that i think is cute. once I saw a mini-comic (don't remember the author) dedicated to that circus teaser, in the comic Caine suddenly appeared in Pomni's room. Pomni, out of fear, hits him sharply, after which he got upset and she began to apologize <з

if we talk about my fav ship, i love Ragatha/Jax! i don't remember this "name" for the pairing, but yes, that's them. dynamics like theirs are my favorite dynamic in couples, i just love it when characters can't stand each other lol. i love the tension between them and i'm afraid i paid too much attention to it while watching the pilot... oh my god, a moron, who pisses everyone off, with a good-natured girl, who wants to help everyone, but she has to deal with this asshole. i guess it's the "from hate to love" trope, right? i like that the first thing that manifests itself in such couples is negativity, they just piss each other off and cannot calm down. but after a while the annoying cools down and they begin to open up to each other. ofc i don't know Gooseworks’ plans, but you guys probably thought that Jax is actually not such a jerk as he shows himself to be, and in fact he is a deeper character, with his own traumas and trials? let's not turn this into a tragic sob story, but nevertheless, Gooseworks said "every tadc character has a reason why they behave the way they do" and i believe that we will be revealed that. it seems to me that to some extent Jax and Ragatha can complement each other. Like, you know, it’s like N helps Uzi cool down and be calm, and Uzi helps N to be confident and defend his positions. maybe Jax can show Ragata that her toxic positivity is not the best option and sometimes you need to be tough, and Ragatha can help him open up, share his problems and well...to be less jerk-like. and yes, of course i can't get it out of my head that Jax called her "dollface" while he gave the others rude nicknames haha

also i like Ragatha/Pomni, i probably don’t pay much attention to them, but they're good. there are cute interactions between them and it seems that Ragatha was better than the others in being able to approach her and become somewhat of a friend. Ragatha has this energy of a caring mother or something, so her desire to help Pomni get comfortable in the circus and direct her to positive thoughts is cute. at the same time, Pomni looks extremely confused, but Ragatha is the one she turns to because she seems the most adequate and friendly of the others. i liked to draw how they hug, but in i think that most likely Ragatha would not have allowed herself to hug someone without asking, at least she would have asked permission x) however, it seems to me that physical contact and kind words are Ragatha's way of support, so simply holding hands with her would calm Pomni down

also i like Pomni/Gangle and Gangle/Kinger and i don'tind other ships as well !!

[riveroftales]

ღ¸.✻´𝚃𝚘 𝚊 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚈𝚘𝚞`✻.¸¸ღ

ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴠᴇʀʏ sʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴍᴜɪᴄʜɪʀᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ sǫᴜɪɴᴛ

“Muichiro!” You waved to catch your best friend’s attention, running towards him.

“Oh! Y/n!” Muichiro waved back, smiling brightly.

Yuichiro huffed in slight annoyance as he gently bounced himself once to further secure the logs he was carrying on his back.

“I just found a pile of huuuge rocks! They’re perfect for a hot stone bath!”

“Hey! While you two chit-chat and waste your own time, I’m going back home!” Yuichiro turned around with his signature scowl on his face as he walked off.

“Yui-!” Muichiro sighed, seeing his twin walk away before abruptly turning towards you. “Please don’t hate him! He’s naturally like that..”

“Don’t worry about it!” You beamed, taking your best friend’s hand. “Come on! I’ll show you where the big rocks are!”

Muichiro’s eyes lit up. “Mhm! I can ask my parents to set up a big hot stone bath for us!”

Both of you bursted out into laughter as you pulled him into the forest.

Where did the time go?

“Muichiro.” You smiled softly, waving at him.

He stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to face you. The light which once was present in his eyes had turned dull and his expression was indifferent.

“Please don’t use my first name. We are not that close. Also, do I know you?”

Your heart broke a bit. You tried to accept the fact that he had amnesia and tried to get closer to him, but ever since he lost his memories, he never looked at your direction. He was always doing origami, spaced out, or with his own group of friends.

Am I even still his friend?

“Sorry, Tokito.. I was just-”

“I’m not interested in taking tsugokus.” He dismissed while he turned around, dismissively waving his hand as if to shoo you away.

“What? No, that’s not what I’m-”

“You’re annoying. Please quiet down.”

You wished you could smile and think he inherited his late twin’s personality, but you just couldn’t. You knew that Yuichiro, despite being more abrasive, meant well. He was harsh because he cared.

Muichiro, on the other hand, was worse. The bright-eyed kid with a bubbly personality who was once your best friend seemed to have died with his twin that night.

“I don’t want to be your tsugoku.” You stood firmly. “I’m a hashira like you. I slayed a lower moon by myself. Surely you remember the master introducing me during our last meeting.”

Muichiro slowly turned and gave you a soft yet cold stare.

“Oh.. right. L/n, was it?”

“Yeah!”

“Okay.”

Without another word, he turned and walked away.

You two were just kids, yet he managed to break your heart 2 times.

The first was when you found him horrifyingly injured with a strange woman (who you later learned was Lady Amane) with her two children tending to Muichiro who held his dead twin’s hand like no tomorrow.

The second was during the hashira meeting. Just like him, you also managed to rise to the top just a few months after picking up a sword, but he didn’t know you. In fact, he treated you a little colder than the rest.

You watched him walk away as your own feet turned around and carried you out with a mind of their own.

“Caw! Emergency! Emergency meeting at the demon slayer headquarters!” Your crow yelled as it flew above your head. “Quick! Emergency!”

You panted heavily as you ran as fast as you could, clutching your sword tightly as beads of sweat rolled down your face. The agonisingly hot sun wasn’t helping at all, but you ignored it.

Your feet carried you as fast as you could before you finally made it at the gate. No one else was there.

“Huh..?”

Am I early? You wondered, looking around. The master wasn’t out and you couldn’t find any of your colleagues. Everything was dead silent.

“Caw! Inside! Inside!” Your bird echoed, landing on a tree branch and nipping at its own wing.

You swallowed hard, hesitating for a moment. You’ve never entered the master’s house before.

Is it normal for the hashiras? No! I can’t think that way! It’s an emergency.. I have to.. everyone’s probably inside… already…

You slowly slide the front door open and take off your shoes before quietly entering.

“Please forgive me for intruding.” You call out softly, getting no response.

You slowly make your way down the halls which only got darker the deeper you went. Finally, you stumbled upon an open door to your side.

“Hello..?”

The room was pitch black, before you heard a familiar voice do a quiet countdown.

“SURPRISE!”

The curtains drew open, letting the sunlight in as confetti popped from all angles towards you. Your eyes widened.

A huge banner was up and all the hashiras were wearing party hats.

Mitsuri was throwing the confetti while Uzui and Rengoku were the ones who drew the curtains open.

Everyone was clapping and cheering for you.

“Happy birthday, Y!n!” Rengoku beamed with his signature smile.

“You guys..” you managed to return a small smile. “How’d you know..?”

“The real question is why didn’t you tell us?!” Uzui countered. “Just cause you’re the newest hashira doesn’t mean that you get treated differently!”

“And plus, Tokito told us!” Mitsuri set down the basket which was now empty from all the confetti being thrown.

“Tokito.. what?” Your eyes widened.

“Yeah. That kid murmured it yesterday in front of Kocho, who brought it up to Uzui and made a huge deal about it.” Sanemi scowled.

For a brief moment, your heart fluttered.

He remembered.

A smile formed on your face.

“Thank you all.”

“I suggest we cut the cake. The room is a little humid and the icing might melt.. Namu.” Himejima said.

Within the next second, you were being playfully pushed towards a huge table filled with sweets and meals with a birthday cake in the middle.

Muichiro witnessed the whole scene unraveling from the far corner of the room, smiling softly.

Like hell he’d forget your birthday.

[emeraldelysian]

Moon Byulyi ✧ A Fine Taste

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

Pairing: Moon Byulyi x Reader Genre: Smut Synopsis: With the late and disheveled arrival of your date, you are easily unimpressed by his demeanor and language. However, his lack of presence allowed you to engage in a flirtation with a woman across the bar- leading to heavenly wonders in the bar bathroom. Wordcount: 2.6K+ Warnings: Brian’s lowkey homophobic, all my homies hate Brian; Reader has F. Anatomy; Bathroom Sex; Eating Out; Fingering; Praise Kink; Exhibitionist; Cum Eating Note: This is honestly one of the best things I’ve ever written; Moonbyul is so hot in this and I don’t know if y’all will survive.

♡︎ follow, provide feedback, or reblog if you enjoyed but please don't repost or translate!♡︎

MDNI, 18+ CONTENT

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

“Sorry I'm late,” he says. 

As he briskly removes his jacket and shakes the rain from his hair, droplets fling onto the white tablecloth. A few land in the half-empty breadbasket, the contents of which are no longer steaming as they had been when the waiter first brought it to the table. 

“I’m Brian,” he says, extending his hand to you.

You scoff, rolling your eyes at the gesture—a bit too proper for someone who couldn’t even be bothered to account for the weather in rush hour traffic. Not to mention that he was interrupting wherever the night had been headed with the beautiful stranger at the bar, the one you had been eye-fucking the whole time you’d been waiting for him.

You shake Brian’s outreached hand anyway, hoping he doesn’t mistake the flush in your cheeks and cold sweat on your palms as a side effect of his presence.

“Y/N,” you say. For one horrific moment when he hesitates, you suspect he might bring your fingers to his lips, oblivious to your annoyance. Much to your relief, he releases his grip and narrows his eyes at the open bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket between you both instead.

His brow arches. “Oh,” he says, frowning at the centerpiece, digging his wallet out of his pocket. “I see you’ve helped yourself. Not too expensive for a first date, I hope?”

It’s not just his words, but the screech of the chair and the stench of cheap cologne that makes you wrinkle your nose.

You don’t miss the way the brunette’s attention keeps drifting back to your table, her gaze flickering between you and your intruder.

You stifle a laugh. You weren’t invested in being set up with her mother’s colleague's son. But you do find it a little funny, now that he’s finally here, that he’s intruding on his own date.

Your admirer is clearly still interested, setting her sights now on your bare legs. Sucking in a breath, you steel yourself before crossing your knees. Your fingers twitch, but you fight the instinct to stop your skirt from rising to the side where the slit reveals your thigh.

“You’re in the clear,” You say, doing nothing to hide the sarcasm dripping from your tone. “It was a gift.”

His unkempt brows disappear behind his fringe. “Someone you know?”

Not yet. 

“Nope,” you reply, folding your arms, pointer finger tapping against your bicep.

He waits for you to elaborate.

Cocking your head to the side, you opt for playing dumb instead.

“Well, I guess we owe our mysterious onlooker a thank you,” he remarks after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

“My,” You correct.

His lips press together in a tight line. “What?”

“You were nowhere to be found,” you remind him. “So she is my mysterious onlooker, no?”

His pupils dilate, jaw unclenching. “She?”

You stiffen and nod, loathing how much you can anticipate his next response.

“Well, I guess I have nothing to worry about then.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you counter, sighing at his baffled expression, “I’m not only into men.”

It takes a few seconds for your words to sink in and then, “Oh!” His face brightens, morphing into one of delight, as he glances around the restaurant, like a dog sniffing out his new favorite toy.

“Would you-”

“I need to use the ladies' room,” you snap, cutting off what was sure to be another request for a threesome from a straight man.

It’s not that you have anything against them- threesomes, or straight men in general. But you certainly won’t be entertaining anything with this one anytime soon, alone or with a partner.

Brian’s mouth opens and closes like a gaping fish washed up on the shore. You might have thought he was mildly handsome under different circumstances, but with the mere 5 minutes of his initial presentation, you were already tired of interacting with him.

You straighten your spine and walk tall away from your table. Your neck tingles as you pass the brunette woman, who is still nursing the same glass of whiskey, and her entourage. The sting of her eyes tracking your trajectory prickles every inch of your exposed skin.

You hasten into the bathroom and blow out a deep breath once inside. You blink at your reflection, fixing your appearance. Your palms linger, caressing and squeezing, imagining another pair of hands covering your own.

You could leave if you wanted. Just scrawl your number on a paper towel for your new crush and then sneak out the back. Then start a nice warm bath once back in your apartment, teasing yourself with your favorite vibrator. Dragging out your orgasm until you cum, fantasizing about those sunlit locks tangled through your fingers and soft rose kisses between your thighs. 

Your mother would be livid for ditching Brian, making it all the more tempting. 

With a sigh, you run the cold water into the sink, but just as you’re about to splash your flushed face, the door swings open, startling you. You glance up at the door through the mirror, the coffee-eyed beauty in holding eye contact with you as the door clicks shut behind her.

“Hello,” she says, calm and sweet with a soft hum of approval as her gaze lowers a fraction and your nipples harden beneath her stare.

Momentarily forgetting how to speak, your mouth snaps shut. The other woman’s lips curl into a soft grin, closing the distance to lean around you and turn off the faucet. 

“I’m Moon Byulyi, but you can call me Moonbyul,” she says, resting her hip against the counter, tugging her brown locks to one side to expose her neck, and angling her body towards you in the process. Your breath hitches, as you imagine running your fingers down Moonbyul’s clavicle.

You swallow. “Hi,” you say. Moonbyul arches a brow with such precision that you’re convinced she must have practiced that look at least a dozen times before. You clear your throat before adding, “I’m Y/N.”

“Hi, Y/N,” she murmurs, as a lover might from between the sheets. “It’s nice to meet you.” She doesn’t reach out to take her hand. Instead, she seems to be waiting for your next move. 

You wipe your palms on your dress, before wriggling them together. “You have a fine taste,” you murmur and immediately regret it. Moonbyul’s eyes light up, teeth sinking into her ruby-painted lip to stifle her laughter. “-in wine!” You finish quickly, blood rushing to your cheeks again. 

There’s a startling contrast between how controlled you are when men fawn over you, to how quickly you are reduced to a pool of mush when you’re caught in the sights of a pretty lady. Moonbyul licks her lips and all at once, the only thing you can focus on is how her mouth looks as inviting and red and sweet as the wine poured into your glass, empty and abandoned at the table.

Along with your date. 

There must be something in your expression that’s easy to read, because the next thing Moonbyul says is, “How long before you need to get back?”

You could tell her that you’re already planning an escape route, maybe even invite Moonbyul to come home with you. But the low huskiness of Moonbyul’s voice and the flash of danger in her eyes spark your curiosity past the point of no return. How far would you be willing to go here?

Your heart quickens, as you lift your chin and muster up the courage to say, “However long it takes.” 

Moonbyul’s eyes widen a fraction, apparently taken aback by this sudden forwardness. You wonder if you’ve made an awful mistake. 

You aren’t left wondering for long.

Time speeds up. One moment your feet are steady on the floor and the next your backside is pressed up against the sink while ridiculously soft fingers roam your torso, reaching upwards to trace your jaw, asking for permission. You release a shuddering breath and words escape you, before you’re frantically nodding into the kiss, hands skimming up Moonbyul’s silk blouse to knead her warm flesh.

You swallow Moonbyul’s moan as she moves to ruck up your navy dress. “Can I-”

“If you don’t, I will,” you admit.

Moonbyul beams at you and she melts into a puddle under your touch. “Up,” she commands and then adds, teasingly, “I want to see how fine my taste is.”

You bury your face in Moonbyul’s neck, sucking a mark onto her pulse point and nipping at her shoulder before obeying, hopping up onto the counter. A strangled gasp leaves your mouth when your bare skin hits the cool metal. 

Moonbyul shushes you, a gentle, “I got you,” passing her lips, breath tickling her chin.

Your stomach swoops as Moonbyul glides between your legs. She tugs the dip of your dress down like she’s unwrapping a present and swirls her tongue around your nipple like it’s her favorite flavor of ice cream.

You hiss at the sudden scrape of her teeth. “Wait-”

Moonbyul stills, instantly pulling back to check you over. “What’s wrong?”

“The door-” you pant. “Is it locked?”

Moonbyul’s smile is predatory. “Maybe,” she hedges, “if you want it to be.” Her lips brush against your ear. “But isn’t it hotter, not knowing if that inconsiderate boyfriend of yours will come barreling through here only to find my tongue buried deep in your cunt?”

Your moan is feral and yeah, maybe you should explain that Brian is most definitely not your boyfriend, but you’re not going to ruin this moment.

Your eyes meet again, mouth tumbling after. Moonbyul’s determination rolls off of her in waves, searching every inch of your skin, latching onto whatever sensitive flesh will make you shudder and gasp. Moonbyul rolls one of your nipples between her forefinger and thumb, sucking the other into her mouth with kitten licks and nips.

“You’re not playing fair,” you mutter, as Moonbyul draws her lips away with a pop, rewarding you with a seductive smirk.

“I don’t like rules.” The confession rolls off her tongue like it’s the world’s dirtiest secret. “But I do like keeping track of the ones I break.”

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you groan while arching her back as Moonbyul slides your soaked lace panties down your legs and stuffs them into her purse.

“I’ll make up for it later,” she promises, the implication alone sending a thrill up your spine. Moonbyul sinks down to the floor. “Spread your legs for me, love.” 

Your head drops back and hits the mirror at the words. The ghost of a kiss finds the inside of your knee. 

“That’s it,” Moonbyul cues. Her praise does wonders to your body, sending a shiver straight to your clit. You briefly wonder if this is the work of some benevolent goddess, given that you were praying for this exact scenario not five minutes earlier.

You’ll worry about which religion to convert to later.

You look down just in time to catch Moonbyul in the act of sliding two fingers past her lips, sucking and coating them in spit. It’s probably not necessary, given that you’re practically vibrating with arousal, but Moonbyul makes a show of it and she’s such a pretty picture like this. 

Hell, you’re not going to stop her.

Moonbyul’s smile is coy when she catches you ogling her like she knows all the filthy thoughts running through your mind.

“Relax,” she says between quick breaths as she presses in closer. You grip Moonbyul’s free hand. Moonbyul flips it over lacing your fingers together, causing your heart to halt and stutter against her. “We’re both going to enjoy this.”

Moonbyul’s nose brushes up against your clit, breathing you in and sending small puffs of air over your center. Then, she pauses, leaving you wanting for a moment. She waits right up until you begin to squirm until a soft please leaves your lips. And then, as if that’s what she was waiting for, one long finger slips inside you with ease, the familiar pressure causing your eyes to roll back. 

It’s been too long since anyone has done this for you.

Moonbyul presses a chaste kiss to your clit before diving her tongue between your folds, humming and vibrating against you. You are up the wall with need, each new sensation igniting a white fire in your veins. She explores your cunt just like she explored the rest of you, thoroughly mapping your entire body with her mouth and tongue, and fingers. 

Moonbyul drags this out until you are dripping and pleading for her to return her attention to that bundle of nerves, before sliding another finger inside, curling at the knuckles, and playing your pleasure spot like a piano key. She learns fast, discovering where to apply more pressure each time you let out the most embarrassing noises, and exactly how much it takes to make you sing. Your toes curl as Moonbyul finds that sweet spot again and again.

“Hush,” Moonbyul murmurs from above your clit, causing you to jerk against Moonbyul’s mouth. “You don’t want anyone bursting in here to check on us now, do you?” You involuntarily clench down on her fingers and you feel Moonbyul’s smirk sweep across your inner thigh. “Or perhaps you do, naughty girl.”

With those words echoing in your mind, your orgasm builds inside you. Every thrust of Moonbyul’s fingers and every twist of her tongue brings you closer to release.

You thread your fingers through Moonbyul’s hair as delicately you can manage, but when they tighten and tug in spite of your care, Moonbyul’s movements grow more eager. She rolls her tongue harder against your clit, crooking her knuckles deeper.

There’s a sharp knock on the door and you gasp; the jump sends you right over the edge. You tighten and snap, riding out your orgasm on Moonbyul’s face, biting your fist to muffle your screams. Your vision whites out and your legs shake. Moonbyul slows her pace, gently licking around your folds as you come down from your high.

The deep voices behind the door grow louder and more urgent. You nearly panic but Moonbyul takes care of it. She pulls away far enough to shout, “Just give us a minute, we’re dealing with some girly issues if you catch my drift.”

You might have laughed if she weren’t so exhausted.

Once the footsteps fade away, Moonbyul rests her head against your thigh, looking through her lashes. “You good?” she asks softly.

You nod and smile back at her, standing to help Moonbyul fix her suit. You think about asking for your panties back but decide it would be better to save it as an excuse to see Moonbyul again.

You hop down and reach for Moonbyul’s hand, stilling yourself. “Will I be able to return the favor?”

Moonbyul cocks her head, licking the taste of you from the seam of her lips. You try not to, but you can’t help the shiver that travels up your spine at the sight. 

“Is that your way of asking for my number?” Moonbyul asks, coy.

Hesitating only a moment, you reply, “Actually I was asking if you’d like to come home with me.”

Moonbyul's smooth brow creases, eyes widening. “That’s rather bold of you.”

You bite your cheek to keep from snorting. “Not nearly as bold as fucking another person’s date on a public bathroom counter.”

“That’s fair.” She hums. “You’re going to break that poor boy’s heart, you know.”

Your nose wrinkles. “Doubtful, we’d only just met.”

“So did we,” Moonbyul counters.

You lean forward, lacing your fingers with hers. “And do I have the power to break your heart, Byulie?”

Moonbyul catches her grin between her teeth. 

“I think I’d like to find out, love.”

[madame-wilsonn]

The Sweetest Escape

MASTERLIST

Summary: as you’re spending your night on a balcony, a certain someone keeps you company

A/N: helloooo i know i know i haven’t posted in a while but my darling friend @zablife hit 1k and organized a fantastic celebration so I had to participate!! this pretty short and not proofread but i really wanted to post it! I hope you enjoy!! 💗

Warnings: none i can think of

Word count: 640 words

The ballroom boomed with chatters and music, champagne spilling and golden hues dazzling the guests.

You watched them from afar, well hidden on the quiet balcony. It was a splendid night, stars shining bright above you, a light breeze caressing your cheeks. You wondered why everyone seemed so interested in the party inside. With the fakes laughters and gossips when the moon stood so graceful in the sky.

Shivers covered your naked shoulders but you welcomed the contrast of your warm skin with the ambient cold. You could’ve ran back inside but you knew your body would get used to it eventually.

You wouldn’t get used to the snakes lurking in the corners of the ballroom. You never really did.

“You’re going to catch a terrible cold, Miss Y/N” a deep voice tore you from your thoughts.

You turned around, facing your interlocutor.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Shelby. I’m tougher than I look like.”

A soft smile lightened his stern features and you observed him a little longer than necessary. He was a handsome man, rough on the edges but there was a gentleness about him...Something you couldn’t pinpoint. Maybe it was the freckles adorning his cheeks…Or maybe the shade of light blue, hiding behind the steel of his look.

But he was above all your father’s colleague. And twice your age.

The man grabbed his cigarette holder from the inside of his blazer then took it off to wrap it around your shoulders. It smelled like him. Tobacco and whiskey. Long sleepless nights and freedom.

“Mr. Shelby, you don’t have to—” he waved as if to say it was no problem.

A cigarette found its place between his lips and again, you found yourself staring at him, a pleasant warmth making its way to your cheeks.

Feeling your gaze on him, Thomas looked up, repressing the smirk forming on his lips. He nonchalantly handed you a cigarette as well, your manicured fingers grazing his rough hand.

You brought your face closer to him so he could light up the cigarette for you.

“Thank you, Mr. Shelby.”

“You can call me, Tommy, love,” he almost whispered and you felt your heart miss a beat.

“T-thank you, Tommy,” you nervously passed a hand in your hair, pretending to fix your pin.

“What are you doing here all by yourself, eh?” Tommy finally asked, blowing a cloud of smoke into the night. “D’you hate these parties as well?”

“Oh, but I like large parties,” Tommy raised his eyebrows, almost reminding you you had just ran out of said party. “They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy,” you shrugged, answering as if it was the most logical explanation in the world.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips and you swore you had never heard a sweetest sound. He didn’t seem like the man who laughed a lot. No, he looked like the kind of person who laughed only for people who deserved it. The kind of people who had such a precious laugh they couldn’t waste it on anyone.

“But you don’t like parties, Tommy?”

The way his name sounded, rolling on your tongue, Tommy almost asked you to say it again. Beg you to repeat his name over and over. No one had ever said it this way. So sweetly, so gently. As if it was the most beautiful thing in the world. As if it wouldn’t bring the devil to your front door.

“Is it because you can’t dance?” you asked playfully after a minute of silence.

Tommy scoffed. “I only dance with ladies who love parties to escape from them”

You chuckled, shaking your head. Feeling a sudden rush of confidence skipping through your veins, you closed the distance between you and whispered in his ear

“Well what do you say we escape from here…for real?”

[golatcxr]

[KomaHina] inhale, exhale

Word count: 1481

Tags: Hurt with Comfort, Mild angst (if you squint), Vaping, Detective AU (though it has almost nothing to do with the storyline), let's pretend that Nagito doesn't have lymphoma it hurts so much please, Subtle confession

--------------------

“I thought you hated smoking?”

The question draws a lazy blink from the white-headed male.

His exhale makes it look like he’s breathing out in the frigid air of winter, yet he is not. The faint smoke swirls, only to be carried away along with the gentle breeze of August. It’s alluring, in a way, if not for the sly smile that’s facing Hinata’s way.

It’s always hard not to stare.

“Maybe, but things have changed I guess.”

Komaeda chuckles bitterly as he closes the lid of his vape pen with an audible pop. “Say, aren’t I pathetic?”

Hinata has never seen him so weary, much less going as far as to damage his own lungs with the thing that he used to despise. Hinata then takes a seat on the tire swing, careful not to fall into its hole. He wonders why many children had the guts to even stand on this thing, but either way, it’s not the children on these swings now.

It’s two detectives, admidst the blueberry scented air.

“Something must have happened, no? Your self-loathing normally doesn’t usually push you this far.” Hinata speaks up softly.

“I half-expected that you would get this wrong, but no, nothing happened. Just me and my same old self.” Komaeda lets out a breathy laugh in response, if it could ever be considered a laugh, that is.

He leans his side against the rusty chain that’s holding the swing upright and slowly turns his head to gaze at his colleague. He smiles.

Hinata has stuck around for long enough to deduct the meanings behind each and every smile Komaeda has thrown his way, though this one doesn’t seem as apparent to him.

“I’m proud of you”, “You’re wrong”, “Thank you”, “What a pity”, …

.

“?”

Mesmerizing as his green yes are, it’s easier to get lost in his gaze than to decipher them. Hinata’s nose stings a little.

“You’re so hard to read sometimes…”

Hinata doesn’t know when Komaeda has held out a hand towards him.

He gives Komaeda a quick look to confirm whether that hand is supposed to be for him to take in his or not, in the end, he decides to give in.

“I’m impressed by the amount of patience that you have, Hinata-kun.” Hinata can feel Komaeda’s thumb tracing circles on his hand, all cold and dry, as he goes on. “Let me guess, you stormed out in the middle of the night to find me because you found out what under my blanket wasn’t me, correct?”

“Why else would I be here then?” Hinata blurted out almost immediately. To say he was worried was an understatement, but his tiredness has beat him to it.

“Hah… I feel so touched knowing that.” Komaeda sighs quietly.

Hinata wonders if it’s the moon, or if his god-forsakken coworker really looked so relieved after hearing what he has just said. Komaeda has been smiling this whole time and the grip on Hinata’s hand tightens. Hinata opens and closes his mouth a few times but he doesn’t end up saying anything, instead, he stares back into the same pair of eyes that’s looking at him. He has so much to say, but they are all incomprehensible thoughts mushed together in his head. They might even look worse than the amount of work that has once bogged him down when he was working wih the court. But…

Isn’t this the perfect opportunity to have a deep talk with Komaeda?

Where does he even start?

“You want to say something.” Komaeda blankly states, which then successfully catches Hinata’s attention. “You have a habit of druming your fingers or swaying your legs when you’re itching to say something.”

Ah…

Hinata can’t help but feel a little ashamed when his feelings are stripped raw like that. Well, Komaeda is also a detective himself, is he not?

“I knew you wouldn’t scold me from the moment you caught me vaping, Hinata-kun.” He begins. “You wouldn’t scold me for running away from our quarter in the middle of the night, nor would you scold me for indulging in such… detrimental hobby.”

Komaeda’s fingers then shift slightly only to weave them into the rough ones that are within their reach. He continues.

“You know, I was beyond happy when you asked. Such scum like me does not deserve someone like you…” Komaeda trails off as he drifts his gaze down his intertwined hand. “You are observant, but sometimes, I want your eyes to be reserved for me only.”

Despite how quietly Komaeda speaks, the very few things that Hinata can hear are the sound of leaves rustling and the white-headed’s talking. It would be safe to say that this dead of the night adorns Komaeda’s voice so much it’s a far cry from the usual raspy voice that he hears when they are at work or solving a case together. Oh how he wants to put it on replay.

“Komaeda…”

“Look at me.”

Those three words snap Hinata back to locking eyes with Komaeda, only then does he realize that his eyes have wandered anywhere but not the eyes. Komaeda’s body has been way over the thick chain, to the point where he can just fall face-first if he leans a tiny bit more. Hinata quickly pulls his hand up to prevent that from happening.

Komaeda chuckles as he sits up again properly. “I’ve been thinking, when will you finally runs out of patience for me and let go of me?” His smile stays unfazed, although it’s hard to ignore the underlying bitterness of it.

“Will you be fine without me?”

“Better, as in better off dead.” Komaeda talks as if he’s joking around with it, but then again, Hinata knows what it means.

“Don’t tell me this is the reason behind your sudden interest in vaping.”

“I’m afraid it is.”

“…”

Hinata brings his free hand up his forehead and heave out a long sigh. He’s conflicted about whether he should give Komaeda a slap across the face, or pull him into his embrace.

Komaeda stands up slowly and makes his way over to Hinata, now towering him. His cloudy locks drops slightly over his pale face as he lifts Hinata’s chin to make eye-contact. Droopy eyelids topping over his grayish green orbs, unlike Hinata’s heterochromatic ones. They look so much more vibrant.

“You have no idea how much your caring gestures mean to me.”

This time, Komaeda’s voice sounds more strained as he starts to caress Hinata’s face. “The way you would always look out for me, the way that you never leave me behind in a mission, everything…”

"It hurts, calling you a friend."

Hinata’s lips part slightly, and Komaeda chuckles at that.

"You get what I mean, right?"

"Yeah, and I'm positive about that."

Komaeda fishes out the vape pen in his pocket and quickly inhales it.

"Open your mouth."

The sudden request takes Hinata by surprise. He hesitates at first, but then complies anyways.

Komaeda holds Hinata's jaw to keep his mouth open and blows the smoke into it. He intentionally keeps he grip on Hinata's face for a brief second before releasing him. Hinata then immediately closes his mouth and coughs out a little, his face burning. The fresh air now smells like blueberry again, he almost forgot that Komaeda had been vaping before he arrived.

"??????"

"Sorry, it's just a way of reminding you of me." Komaeda's grin springs back onto his face as he twirls the vape in his hand.

"You could have just kissed me."

"Too bad I chose not to. Otherwise I'd go wild if you let me."

Komaeda leans his forehead against Hinata's, hands in his pockets so carefreely. The answer he was given to his subtle confession was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. For him, that's enough.

"The next time you feel insecure, you can talk to me." Hinata threads his hand into Komaeda's soft locks and strokes his head gently as he trails off. "I'd be more than willing to lend you an ear."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"And don't run away like that again."

"Alright." Komaeda's smile widens as he pulls back a little until their eyes meet again.

At this point, he decides to just shut off kinds of thoughts in his mind and lean in to capture Hinata's lips. It's an hurried kiss, yet it feels like only a split second when they part their lips. He blinks.

"Stay with me, will you?"

"Sure." Hinata finally eases up and return Komaeda's smile. "I was about to say that you should quit vaping, but before that..."

He swiftly pulls the small device out of Komaeda's pocket and holds it up. May be the vape is getting to him as well.

"Mind doing it again?"

"Gladly."

Blueberry scented vape isn't so bad after all, or perhaps it's Komaeda.

I'm back to writing after more than a year of hiatus yipee 😭

[hwnglx]

Could u do a reading for sunoo and niki relationship ? 🙏

sunoo and niki's dynamic based on tarot, take it with a grain of salt

how was their dynamic in the past?

kingofsw, aceofc, world, 3ofc

their dynamic seemed to have been more work-based in the beginning stages. they were colleagues and respected each other, it was fine. they started gaining a strong bond with each other as some time went by. i'm getting lot of trust and harmony between them, the existence of the other fulfilled them in a way. niki completed what sunoo lacked and vice versa. really beautiful and loving dynamic, very wholesome. they truly enjoyed each others company and felt comfortable with one another, shared many fun times together. they were precious friends who believed in one another no matter what.

how did niki feel towards sunoo in the past?

world, 8ofw, moon&devil, empr, 3ofcrx+highpr

awe. niki felt whole whenever he was around sunoo. it's almost like sunoo was the friend he never knew he needed. he brought a lot of harmony in his life, i'm getting a lot of grateful feelings. "i'm so happy you're here." is what i keep hearing. however, he felt like things turned toxic too quickly. sunoo started becoming too secretive, hid his feelings from not just niki but everyone, stopped engaging with him. niki never stopped deeply caring for sunoo, even during this period. but he felt distant and had problems getting close again. he couldn't figure sunoo out at all.

how did sunoo feel towards niki in the past?

strength, magicrx, 3ofsw, knofsw, 10ofw, death, 4ofc

although sunoo received a lot of strength from niki in the beginning, i think he felt like there were problems and blocks in their communication from the start. he had difficulties and lacked confidence to really express himself in an open and honest way. there seemed to have been a period in which niki got too harsh with his words out of immaturity. sunoo felt immensely hurt. he thought niki was being reckless, impulsive and inconsiderate. those wounds truly weighed on sunoo, as this caused a major change in his feelings towards niki. i think he really hated showing how hurt he actually was and preferred to act indifferent. he wanted to protect his heart.

how does niki feel towards sunoo now?

7ofsw&pagofp, 8ofc, 8ofw, 5ofp, sun, tower

niki is still trying to figure out how to talk to sunoo. he feels awkward, cautious and unsure what to do or say in order to get to his bandmate, since he feels like he's still not communicating with him openly. he knows sunoo is sensitive. he's also very aware of the shift that happened between them, and is genuinely trying to communicate, but it just doesn't seem to work out. there are times in which the two do share some happy and joyful times together and things seem fine, but in the end they somehow end up fighting again and are back at level zero. on and off friendship type of thing. niki feels kinda hopeless in that regard and seems to have accepted that this is the way it'll probably stay for a while. but deep inside he seems to miss the more harmonious old times.

how does sunoo feel towards niki now?

2ofw, temp, pagofp, 8ofc&3ofsw, kingofsw

sunoo's heart is still scarred and wounded, but he's okay with things being the way are now. he realizes him and niki clash way too much in order for there to be any changes at this point. similary to niki, he feels a sense of awkwardness and unresolved tension that'll probably be there for a while, unless the two lay out their honest thoughts in open manner. but they both seem to be very "my way" type of people, so things will probably stay kinda tense and cold for now and sunoo is aware of that. i get "it is what it is" type of vibes. i guess he's glad they don't fight every two working days anymore lol.

how is their dynamic now?

aceofsw, justice, fool, 2ofw, hieroph

i don't think there's any huge grudges but their dynamic definitely isn't how it used to be. it seems like they did manage to balance things out in a way where it doesn't affect their dynamic as group members. since time has passed, they are also able to enjoy some fun and light-hearted times with each other now without holding on to any weight from the past. but they're very much on two different pages now. it's more of a work-related relationship between two colleagues. they do what needs to be done but probably aren't crazy about spending much time together outside their schedules.

[holdmecloser-gandydancer]

for the prompts to shake things up: 21 with thb and/or anyone else you feel like from at the bureau, if you feel so inclined!

"so it was YOU who took a full bite out of that stick of butter!! please. please. why??" from this prompt list!

Taako can’t stand living with other people.

Eh, that’s a little harsh, he supposes. He can stand it just fine, he just hates it. That’s a little nicer. Probably.

It’s not so much the being around other people he hates, it’s the sharing of space. He’s very particular with how he thinks stuff should be arranged. That’s not such a bad thing, he thinks.

But the communal kitchen thing will probably kill him if it doesn’t kill a colleague first.

He swears he’s the only motherfucker on this moon who has any idea what food safety even is. Every single day he has to remind these dunces that meat can’t defrost on the counter and milk shouldn’t be stored in the door and that you shouldn’t eat two fucking deviled eggs that have been sitting out on a windowsill for gods know how long, are you actually a lunatic?

That’s why he takes advantage of the kitchen at, what some might call, whack ass hours. Nobody to bother him, nobody sniffing around his pots and pans, nobody trying to sneak a bite.

He doesn’t share food and nobody needs to know why.

He’s craving an omelet. A fancy one. One with potatoes. And spinach. And lots of goat cheese. And onions. And garlic.

He’s contemplating more components as he whips his eggs up. As he’s rummaging around one of the cabinets he’s charmed, he idly wonders whose bright idea it was to build a secret moonbase without decent storage in the living spaces. His hand closes around the cool metal of his nice copper pan and he does his best to extract it noiselessly.

He turns the burner on and looks around for his nice butter. They apparently like, sing to the cows or some shit. It’s one of the little luxuries he’ll indulge in since it just makes food taste so much better. When he pulls it out of the fridge, however, he’s horrified to see just how the damn stick’s been brutalized.

He can’t use the rest of the stick, the thought genuinely makes him want to gag. So now he’s out a nice breakfast and a few silver pieces.

Good thing he’s going to be so calm and normal about this butter abuse.

-

Attention all occupants of this dormitory, please make your way to the kitchen ASAP. Or else.

Taako, what are you—

All good here, Madam D, never you mind!

Taako, this is inappropriate use of Bureau—

The intercom cuts off abruptly. Even with having just met the guy, Magnus has a feeling that Taako means business and isn’t keen on waiting. Merle and Robbie stir and make their way to the elevator. On their way down to the kitchen, even more groggy Bureau members step onto the elevator.

Merle and Magnus find themselves quietly humming along to the tune.

They all find Taako standing in the dorm kitchen and scowling. He says nothing for a moment before marching up to Robbie. “Open your mouth.”

He looks down the line at other Bureau members. “Uh, wh—”

“Just show me your teeth and this will be painless,” Taako demands, clutching a stick of butter in other hand.

After a reasonable amount of hesitation, Robbie opens his mouth and grimaces, exposing his teeth.

Taako squints, looking from the butter to Robbie’s mouth and back to the butter. “Close it, you’re clean.”

“Taako, what’re you doing ‘sides freaking out Rusty here?” Merle asks.

“Uh my name’s actually Robbie,” Robbie clarifies before being waved off by Taako.

“Well, Merle, I was just trying to make myself a bangin’ breakfast. Big ol’ omelet with a ton of shit. But do you know what the first step of making an omelet is?” Taako paces up and down the line of Bureau members he’s assembled in the kitchen, smacking the stick of butter in his hand against his palm.

“Cracking some eggs?” Avi ventures. Taako glares at him.

“Cracking some eggs,” Taako repeats, “Is but one of many ‘first steps’ in making an omelet. Don’t ask how there are multiple first steps, I am a wizard and a chef, not a fucking scientist. But perhaps the most important step is putting a big knob of butter in the pan and letting it become nice and foamy. But I can’t do that today! And do any of you care to venture a guess as to why?”

He’s met with blank stares. Typical.

“It’s because one of you has decided to bite into my stick of butter with your gaping wide maw,” Taako hisses.

“Can’t you just like, transmute some more butter or some shit? That way you don’t have to interrogate us at ass-o’clock in the morning?” Killian says flatly.

It’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment, but Taako’s jaw tightens and his eyes harden a little. Whatever comes out of his mouth next is going to be some evasive shit and Magnus knows it. And he’s not sure how.

“It’s about the principle of it all,” Taako deflects. That tracks.

“Wait, I thought we were calling her the Director, not the principal,” Merle interjects.

Taako casts him a withering glare. “Also, who has the spell slots to waste?”

Magnus grimaces and puts his hand up. “Hey, listen, Taako. Don’t be mad—”

“Probably gonna be mad now, my man.”

“—But it was me,” Magnus admits. “You can check it against my teeth or something.”

“I could cast Zone of Truth,” Merle offers.

“Eh, not so sure you should be wasting your spell slots. After all, they’re so helpful when you use them,” Taako says. “Why the actual shit have you done this?”

Magnus looks around sheepishly for a minute. “Well, I was eating this spicy soup, like really spicy, and my mouth was burning and you said that drinking milk straight from the carton was a no go but I also knew that dairy soothed mouth burn.”

Taako doesn’t say anything for a little while. He pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a sigh that could extinguish a hundred years’ worth of birthday candles. “So instead of drinking milk straight from the carton, you decide to bite my stick of nice butter.”

Magnus nods.

“I hate the moon.” He tosses the stick of butter towards Magnus. “You’re all dismissed, except Magnus who is going to Fantasy Costco, replacing my butter, and dealing with that cat at the cash register.”