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kaylopolis · 6 months ago

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Alastor's Shadow (18+) Chapter Five

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months sooner than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. Afterall, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down, but also challenge your grab for power…

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

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Author note: Dear Hoteliers, This was my first attempt at smut (I giggled posting this, I am so excited!). I am new, but any advice is welcome! I tried something different with formatting (you'll see when you get there). I didn't want anything to be spoiled while ya'll rode the emotional rollercoaster that is this chapter. Let me know if it was weird and didn't work (or if it did that would be great!). I also added a link to the music found in a later part of this chapter in case you wanted to listen while you read.

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Five - Night's Mistress

Content Warning: Blood, Blood Play, Murder, Choking, Graphic Sexual Scenes Involving Violence, Smut, MINORS DNI! (let me know if I missed anything else!)

The pull behind your navel felt foreign.

It didn’t come with the taste of honey or the scent of daffodils like Rosie’s summons normally did. It didn’t come with a hint of sass or flood your mouth with spice like Carmilla’s. Crimson’s tasted of red pepper flakes and copper - a disgusting combination - but he was no longer an issue.

This pull, however, was new and terribly, terribly… boring.

Has one of your cards fallen to a rogue with sticky fingers? Has one of your holders died and a new holder taken their place?

Whomever it was, the pull made you pause atop your perch overlooking V Tower. With Vox’s new Angelic Security soon to be released, you didn’t know how close you could get to the media demon’s headquarters. So you sat a few buildings away, scanning the horizon for any newfound technology that might impede your nighttime endeavors.

There was another tug.

Jesus, impatient much?

You stood, stretching the stiffness from your legs. It was late, you’ve been out here for hours watching absolutely nothing happen. All the Vees like to do is sit, drink, and talk shit. Seriously what did they get out of their friendship? Was it friendship? Or were they all fucking? Ugh, you did not want that picture in your head.

Okay, time to go.

You jumped, allowing the smoke to envelop your form. Feeling the pull, you headed toward the inner part of the city. Circling Heaven’s Clocktower, you broke off back toward the Magne District - the district that held the Hotel. Except you weren’t headed for your new home. The pull brought you left, almost to the border town but not quite, to an old tower.

In a plume of smoke, you landed on a balcony, the black swirls twirling about the landing before pooling over the sides. You were probably twenty stories up, the tallest building around. Not nearly as tall as V Tower - which the balcony gave you a great view of - but still, Pentagram City was striking.

The balcony was connected to an apartment, reachable to the world only by an elevator at its center. Behind you was a wall of glass, heavy curtains preventing you from peering inside. On the balcony sat a small table, framed by two iron chairs. The setup was empty, except for your card which sat atop the table, a single drop of blood at its center.

You took a step, your feet finding a puddle of red before you finally noticed the body. It was face down, scarlett flooding from a wound which wasn’t visible to you. It didn’t appear to be anyone you knew. Definitely a Human Sinner, but not one particularly interesting.

So who in Hell summoned you?

As if on cue, a zip of static runs across the back of your neck.

Of-fucking-course…

“Ah, there you are,” Alastor emerges from the darkened apartment, shutting the door behind him with a kick of his heel, a smooth jazz playing on his radio.

Your heart skips a beat as his eyes find yours. Half-lidded, he smirks, a bottle of wine in one hand and a pair of glasses in another.

Your eyes flit between the dead Sinner on the floor and the red demon before you. “You did not use your own blood?" This was a first. Cardholders always used their own blood. Although not directly stated, it was implied.

“Heavens, no!” The demon places the glasses on the table, next to the obsidian calling card, as he uncorks the bottle using the tip of his claw. “We barely know each other. That would be too…” His eyes slid to yours. You feel his gaze rake over your form eliciting a blush beneath your cloak. “Intimate.”

Jesus.

You stifle a sharp intake of breath.

Get your shit together. You’re a fucking Overlord for Christ’s sake.

You drop his gaze, eyeing the half-dead pile of blood beneath your feet.

“Ah, apologies for the mess,” Alastor snaps and the Sinner, along with the blood, disappears. “Wine?” The red demon holds a glass out to you, liquid sloshing in its basin.

You look at your boots before moving, noticing he even wiped the blood from their leather. How thoughtful.

Goblet in hand, you finally join the Radio Demon in the chair adjacent to his, and gaze out to the City.

It was quiet, the hustle of Pentagram City’s nightlife drowned out by his jazz. Funny, you thought it almost peaceful. Could Hell be peaceful? No. That would be an oxymoron. Hell was designed not to be peaceful by definition. Yet all the way up here, tucked far back from the rest of the chaos, you could pretend it was.

The demon sits back in his chair, crossing his legs at his knees. You hadn’t noticed it before, but his shoes have a print on the bottom - a deer’s hoof. How fitting.

The obsidian calling card sits between you, a drop of scarlet crusting on its surface. Letters in white slowly fade from the card’s edge, signifying the death of the card owner. Whoever the Hell Stanley Jenkins was, Alastor had killed him and used his blood instead. Smart actually, for the card comes with its own parameters…

And to the Sinners without a card? That was a bit trickier. Only a handful of obsidian calling cards were in circulation, and only cardholders could summon you at will. To the lower rung demons without the honor, they had to go through back channels. That’s what you used Rosie for. The Cannibal Queen knew all the best gossip in town, her network of information reached every edge of the Pentagram. She was your starting point for potential hits - you took care of the rest.

“A toast,” Alastor holds his glass out to you. “To power and chaos.”

You freeze.

The demon clinks his glass with yours.

You had not heard that phrase in a very long time.

You look to the Radio Demon and watch as he sips his wine, the red liquid kissing his lips as he drinks.

More importantly, where had he heard that phrase?

And then it clicks.

Lilith. You last heard that from Lilith.

“It isn’t poisoned. I assure you,” Alastor purrs, bringing your thoughts back to the wine. “If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead.” The demon chuckles.

You shudder at the sudden static vibrating through your bones.

You put a pin in this conversation - a mental note. You had more homework to do.

You swirl the red around the glass, noting the alcohol crystals sticking to the sides. It was an older wine, a heavier red by the color. The liquid wooed you in scents of dark berry, cloves, and cedar. You could taste the tannins on your tongue before the liquid even hit your teeth. God, was it a thick red, so dry it left your mouth parched for more. Alastor couldn’t see your face beneath the hood, but if he could, he would see the moan you stifled behind closed lips.

God, it was almost Heavenly.

“One of my more everyday favorites,” Alastor smiled at the world below, his eyes sparkling with the reflection of City lights. “Although, I have far better in my cellar.”

In my cellar. Your ears perked up at that, although you tried to hide it, the twitch of Alastor’s lips told you he had noticed. The Radio Demon knew something about you now: you liked wine.

Was that what this meeting was all about? He wanted to gather more information on the Shadow? The way he made it seem at Carmilla’s was that there was a deal to be made. He thought you two could benefit from some sort of… partnership. Yet, you sit here and drink.

This wasn’t how your deals often went. Usually, you showed up, and Sinners demanded action straight away. They practically begged you for your help, all too eager to make a deal. Lesser demons were pathetic, demons thinking themselves anything more attempted to look strong or intimidating, but the second they saw your eyes, they cowered. You’d like to think it the same as Zestial’s situation but you didn’t dare compare yourself to someone as great as him.

Alastor, however, sat before you as an entertainer, a flatterer, a narcissist obsessed with his image. He didn’t just want to make a deal with you - if he did at all - he wanted to put on a show. Offering you a drink and a lovely view of the City communicated to you that he didn’t see you as a threat, but you already knew that. The question then was, did he respect you, and why did it bother you so much not to know?

You turned the bottle to read the label: Stag’s Leap. How fitting.

“Have you read the Allegory of the Cave*?” Alastor posits.

You nod. Of course, who hasn’t read Plato?

“When the man leaves the cave and makes it to the surface and is finally disenchanted with the shadows below, why do you suppose he returns?” Alastor takes another sip, waiting for you to answer, because he genuinely cares as to what you have to say.

“To free the two he left behind,” your voice growls.

“Hmm,” he ponders. “I supposed that as well, but never understood. To have the power of knowledge and to then share it… To not take advantage when it benefited him so. I see it as a tragedy.”

“Perhaps it is the Humanity in all of us.”

Alastor’s eyes flashed. “And if there is no Humanity left?”

“Return…” Your lips curled, “and kill the other two.”

Alastor tipped his head back and laughed, a deep chuckle from his chest. No laugh track followed. Was that genuine? A real laugh from Alastor and not the façade of the Radio Demon. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest at the thought.

Focus!

“Alastor, why have you summoned me?”

The Radio Demon’s lips faltered ever so slightly, his cheery attitude hardening. He thought a long moment before answering. “It seems we have found ourselves in quite the predicament.” He places the glass on the table and folds his fingers in his lap, his attention on the City below. Your eyes follow his, all the way to V Tower.

Ah, yes Velvette and Vox.

“Velvette can be quite the troublemaker.”

“And Vox can be quite the thorn.” You counter, taking another sip.

God, the wine was so good.

“I have… information worth your while.” His teeth shined.

“And in return?”

“A quid-pro-quo. I have been gone a long time, but my relationships with those I am… close with have held strong. That is the perk of being as old as I am. I am tried and true. You are new blood, officially worth a seat at the table. That seat will be tested.” There was an edge to his words now. “Do not take Velvette’s silence for inaction.”

You did not.

Yet, what could Alastor know that you have not yet uncovered yourself? After all, you have been watching them these past few days. Surely something would have come up by now.

You scoffed, finding the underlying meaning in his words. “Is that what happened with Vox?”

The Radio Demon stiffened. There it was, a hint of that barely contained anger. Oh, how you would love to see it unleashed.

You sniffed, searching for the scent of rage, of jasmine green tea - the main reason why you loved the drink. Yet there was nothing. Irritation prickled your skin. You have never been able to not read someone before. What made this Sinner so special?

“That is what you want from this… partnership, is it not?” You prod, hoping he will give away something, anything that might clue you in as to why you are here.

The demon returned to his wine, a muscle in his jaw flickering with agitation. He didn’t like appearing weak.

Narcissist.

“The plans I have in mind are far bigger than that poor excuse for an entertainment system.”

You snorted.

Alastor’s strained smile softened.

Hmm, a quid-pro-quo, huh? Still, he hasn’t said what he wants out of this deal.

You took another sip to think, noting your glass was already empty.

The Radio Demon cleared his throat, wine bottle in hand, gesturing for your cup. His fingers brushed yours as you handed him the glass, sending a wave of static through to your core. You pulled back too fast, bringing your arm to your chest. The demon’s eyes gleamed in amusement.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! You are not afraid of the Radio Demon, so why were you acting like an idiot? Never let your weaknesses show and you just gave him a clear indication that he intimidated you. You are a FUCKING OVERLORD.

Why was this not easier with a mask on??? At the Hotel, you didn’t back down, but still, you let him think less of you. Not here. Here you are the fucking Shadow, you didn’t have to pretend. You had no reason to be so nervous.

So why was the smile on his face and the look in his half-lidded eyes making your heart do backflips in your chest? Why was it when he handed the glass back you were conscious to not let your fingers touch his? Why were you so grateful for the space between you two yet also so, so irritated by it?

“You still have not told me what you seek to gain.” You prayed your voice didn't sound as unnerved as you felt.

His smile went cockeyed. “A mutual agreement. We stay out of each other’s way, yet seek out the other when we can benefit equally.”

That didn’t sound like a partnership. That sounded like an alliance. Is this the same type of deal he had with Rosie? Interestingly, they seemed more like friends than something so surface-level as an alliance. Perhaps it started out that way and blossomed into one?

The butterflies in your stomach kicked up in a flurry. The Radio Demon thought you were worth his time. Your cheeks heated. He thought you could help him - in some sort of capacity. God, why did that make you wanna squeal like a small child?

“I will not be signing a contract,” you warned.

Rosie informed you of Alastor’s contract crafting abilities. The demon was meticulous, bordering on obsessive when it came to exacting details. Line-by-line he would work and when it was finally done, the deal would appear flattering in what it would have to offer. Somehow, Alastor always made it seem like it was you who was the one to benefit. Yet, that was never the case. It was a trap, a beautifully disguised ploy which demoted you to a creature privy to his whim. Alastor was a master and the signee his pet - he would have it no other way.

You’d die before you signed anything he authored.

The demon laughed. Yet, underneath, there was a hint of irritation. “Oh, no. I did not expect that, I assure you. Ours will be one of a verbal agreement.”

You let that marinate. He won’t be getting your name, but an agreement will still be made, and in Hell, that was a very powerful thing indeed. You’ve made plenty of verbal agreements before. Fuck, every hit you contracted was a verbal agreement - silence and the contractee’s soul in exchange for murder. The terms you set were quite simple, actually, yet strong enough to have kept any hint, any suspicion of who you are and how to find you, out of the mouths of Pentagram City’s most powerful. Yes, the media did try to track you down, even attempted to hunt you at one point, but they haven’t gotten very far. And they never will if you had anything to do with it…

You took a sip, letting the flavors melt off your tongue one final time, before standing and offering a hand.

The demon’s eyes lit up with a crimson fire, his lips curling at the edges. He looked far too eager for this deal and that made you hesitate.

Dealing with Alastor was like dancing - a dance you both pretended not to be leading but also refused to be the follower in. It was a game of power, you see. Yes, dancing had its steps and rules - a waltz is a waltz after all - but the direction it was going, the added flare to the spins, the story the choreography told - that was where you battled. Thus, you needed to be a half-step ahead of Alastor at all times - without him knowing, of course - until either the dance ended or you found a way to end him.

The Radio Demon took your hand, and as you gazed into his eyes, you watched his pupils dilate. The glow of your yellow irises reflected in their dark center, an aura of red encircling your hooded form. A river of blue and green exploded from where your hands touched, twirling about you like the eye of a beautifully destructive hurricane.

The wind whipped Alastor’s hair about his face, his smile never faltering, his eyes never leaving yours as a connection snapped between the two of you. Like a thin string bridging your souls, you could, for a moment, feel Alastor on the other end, feel his static radiating from his core before the connection faded entirely.

It was done.

“A pleasure,” he purred.

You attempted to step back and break away from his grasp, but the demon responded by clamping down and pulling you to him. You stumbled, your other hand coming to his chest to prevent your fall. The hood atop your head shifted back ever so slightly, but not enough to reveal your face or to give away anything underneath.

The shadows engulfing your feet twirled and twirled about you, yet you remained frozen. Alastor was a solid wall of muscle beneath his suit; even with gloves on, you could feel the marble from which his chest was sculpted. You took a breath before you pulled your hand away before your brain finally caught up with the rest of you.

“Beautiful,” Alastor’s voice deepened.

You dared a glance from beneath your hood and found the demon’s eyes locked on the silver embroidery of your cloak. With his other hand, he ghosted over the trim, his fingers tracing the hard edges of the stitching. Yet, at no point did he actually touch the black fabric. If he did, his fingers would phase through it, just as Velvette’s had at the meeting.

Without saying anything, he dropped the grip on your fist, freeing you from his clutches. You stumbled backward, grasping your hood and pulling it forward to ensure it stayed in place. Alastor couldn’t remove it, but that little stunt he pulled almost ruined everything you had worked for.

Your body grew cold as you backtracked to the railing, your little meeting coming to an end. You watched as Alastor’s grin turned into a lopsided smirk as he shoved his hands in his pockets, nonchalantly watching you flee.

Your instincts were screaming again, but this time, they were telling you not to let the demon out of your sight.

Passing by the table, you noted the obsidian calling card. He would use it to summon you from here on out, but he would never be using his own blood. His real name would be made to you then, and he would never risk that.

Take advantage of the power given, was what he recollected from Plato, and use it to slaughter others.

“Velvette is using a third party to buy weapons from Carmilla Carmine,” the demon finally spoke, breaking the tension. He turned to the skyline, absentmindedly analyzing V Tower as he talked. “The female Vee, however, is not the fighter of the group, she leaves that to Vox and Valentino. Velvette destroys by reputation. She is not much to fear if armed, but if privy to certain information, she will use that to destroy her enemies.”

A.K.A do not let her find out who you are.

You paused as your back hit the railing. You let your shadows build beneath your feet before you jumped in order to conceal your form as you flew. “Vox’s Angelic Security is in place but not online. It expands two blocks from V Tower. If anyone were to make a move, he would see it coming.”

The Radio Demon nods. He pauses a moment before adding, “Carmilla killed the Angel.”

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat. How the Hell did he know that?

“Carmilla is monitoring the Vees,” The words tumbled out of your mouth as you grabbed hold of the railing. “She doesn’t want them making a move against Heaven.” You needed to get away. This meeting was getting dangerous. Losing your cool and almost losing your hood in the span of minutes? You were never this sloppy. Alastor made you sloppy.

“Interesting,” his voice stopped you again.

You spun, raising an eyebrow in question. His lopsided smirk only grew. “You didn’t ask me how Carmilla killed the Angel.”

Fuck. He knew. He knew you already knew. He didn’t have to look at you to see the surprise in your eyes, he had figured it out by your response alone.

“Goodnight, Alastor,” you gave a shallow head bow before jumping off into the night, Alastor’s fucking grin following you into the sky.

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It was late when you returned. You took a few extra spins about Pentagram City before heading back, trying to collect your thoughts on everything that had just happened.

You had surmised two important things: One, Alastor’s absence wasn’t just about Lilith. The demon somehow knew Lilith. Perhaps it was because of her that he left in the first place. Which you already somewhat suspected, but this confirmed it. Two, Alastor wanted the Vees dealt with, but he knew he couldn’t do it alone.

A quid-pro-quo in taking out the Vees. Now, things were getting interesting. This didn’t derail your plans, however, little Ms. Morningstar was still heading in the direction you needed her to go for everything to work. You didn’t need the Vees for the endgame - you had other powers in your back pocket with far more influence than the three of them. Plus, the connections you were making at the Hotel were going swimmingly. Soon, not yet, but soon, you’d implement the next phase.

Oh, if only Father could see you now - wherever the Hell he was. Did he fall to Hell or was he somehow topside? No. You’d know if he was down here with you. You’d feel it in your bones. Wherever he ended up, you were going to find him and you were going to make him suffer for everything he put you through.

You weren’t just going to kill him - oh, no. He didn’t deserve a quick and clean death. It was going to be slow and torturous. You were going to make him feel every ounce of the pain he put you through and more. You’d take your time, after all; why rush? Hours, days, months, years; what use was putting a timeline to his punishment when it would never make up for what he did? No. You’d take your time pushing him to the edge, and when he was on the cusp of eternal darkness, you’d heal him and start all over again.

Perhaps you did have a flair for murder like the Radio Demon. Your creative outlets were just significantly more specific - lying in wait for the perfect muse.

Wrapping your fingers around the edge of the window pane, you quietly slipped inside. With a snap, your leather gear and cloak slipped into the Void, replaced with a silk pajama set: a tank top and shorts bordering on just too short. Scandalous, but you enjoyed burying yourself beneath layers of blankets while you slept. Any more clothing and you’d wake up sweating.

Going for the bathroom, you turned on the light and paused. In the reflection of your mirror, you saw it: a red box wrapped in black ribbon. Your heart skipped a beat.

Someone had been in your room.

Hesitantly, you made your way before the coffee table and found a card perched atop the neatly wrapped bow.

You leaned in and sniffed the package - Nifty. You were going to have to touch base with the Hotel cleaning lady after breakfast. From day one, you had made it quite clear - to her great disappointment - not to clean your room, let alone enter it. Perhaps you weren’t clear enough, for she felt it acceptable to leave this here as opposed to outside your door.

Doing a circle about the space, you inspected the sealing runes which kept certain individuals out, eyeing the shadows just in case. You had hidden the ancient magic in concealed places, even buying a rug to cover the one at the base of your door, and kept your most important things in your Void. It wasn’t the best place to store your leather and cloak - especially after the moth infestation a few years back - but it was a necessity at the moment.

Then you went for the present. Pulling the black ribbon atop, you jumped back as the box split into fours, revealing a small radio. It was of a classic design and cathedral in shape, carved from mahogany and detailed in yellow and red. The device was simple, with only two buttons: an on-and-off switch and a volume dial. No tuning dial to change the channel? No chord to plug it in?

Fuck. How did he know? You racked your brain trying to figure out when and to whom you talked to regarding your sleepless nights. Rosie knew, but you hadn’t specifically discussed it with her lately. Did you say something to Husk in passing? To Angel while you were bitching at breakfast?

Hesitantly, you turned on the device. A pleasant, smooth jazz echoed through the speaker: Paul Whiteman’s “Sleepy Time Down South.” Hilarious… The Radio Demon has a sense of humor. At least it wasn’t the screams of blood-curdling murder.

After inspecting the radio three times over, you deemed it not a threat - although you kept it far away from your bed as you crawled beneath the sheets. With a snap of your fingers, the bathroom light turned off, plunging you into a cocoon of darkness, enveloped by the lullaby of sweet jazz…

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At some point in the night, you awoke, your mouth parched and throat dry.

🎶 It’s not the pale moon that excites me 🎶

Alastor’s radio switches over to a new song, the music seeming to follow you as you make your way to the kitchen. The hallways were silent, the Hotel Natives snoozing away in the late hours of the night.

🎶 That thrills and delights me 🎶

You pass by the library as a zip of static runs its way down your spine, stopping you in your tracks. Alastor stood before the fireplace, flames roaring in its hearth, casting an eerie glow throughout the room. The demon faces the fire, his attention on the crackle of the logs as they whittled away into ash. He was still dressed in his three piece suit you saw him in only hours ago, his ears pressed flat against his head in irritation. Something was bothering him.

🎶 Oh, no. It’s just the nearness of you 🎶

He pretended not to notice you standing there staring at him from the hallway, but his shadow didn't. It zipped around your feet, twirling about your ankles in greeting, before practically dragging you inside the room. And when it had you well within the confines of the space, it flew to the doors.

🎶 It isn’t your sweet conversation 🎶

The shadow slammed them shut. CLICK! Then locked them.

You were trapped.

🎶 That brings this sensation 🎶

Alastor tilts his head over his shoulder, his half-lidded eyes landing on you. The demon looked royally pissed.

This was it, this was the moment.

Alastor had figured out who you are. Your hood had fallen farther than you thought and he had seen your face and put the pieces together. He knew you were the Shadow, the mysterious new Overlord, here to challenge his grab for Princess Morningstar’s power.

And he was going to kill you for it.

🎶 Oh, no. It’s just the nearness of you 🎶

You didn’t hesitate to summon your blue flames, preparing for a fight, yet he moved faster than your mind could comprehend. Between one blink and the next, Alastor appears before you, his hand wrapping around your throat so tight you choke on the lack of air. Grasping at his arm, you dig your claws into his skin, your demon form summoning, as you melt the red fabric with your flame. But he is unphased by the heat, pulling back and slamming you so hard into the wall that spiderwebs crack across the plaster.

🎶 When you’re in my arms 🎶

You try to summon more flame to burn him down to the very core of his soul like you had done to thousands of Sinners before, but the blue fire does nothing to his skin. It singes the red fabric, turning it black, but his skin beneath is unharmed.

Shit.

🎶 And I feel you so close to me 🎶

The demon leans in, a low growl emanating from his chest, his teeth glinting in the firelight as his eyes hone in on your neck. As the blood pumped through your jugular, you watched his pupils dilate and fixate on the vein. He was a Cannibal, a predator, a killer whittled down to pure instinct. Everything within him was screaming kill, kill, kill.

🎶 All my wildest dreams came true…🎶

Your lungs screamed as you choked out, “Alastor.” It was weak, barely a whisper, but it was enough to draw his gaze from your neck to your eyes. In his pupils, you saw yourself desperate and bordering on losing yourself to the darkness threatening to close in. Despite the fight you felt in your bones you looked terrified.

🎶 I need no soft lights to enchant me 🎶

His name slipping from your mouth, the quiver he saw in your lips, had cracked something within him.

🎶 If you would only grant me 🎶

His grip disappeared, allowing you a breath of air.

🎶 The right to hold you ever so tight 🎶

You bent over, coughing onto the floor, sucking down breaths in gasps that make your eyes water.

🎶And to feel in the night🎶

Standing, you held onto the broken wall, forcing yourself to stay on your feet, despite your knees threatening to collapse beneath you.

“Alastor, what the fuck…” And before you had a chance to finish your question, the demon wraps his claws around your chin and forcefully slams his lips into yours.

🎶The nearness of you🎶

The kiss was anything but soft, anything but patient. The demon was hungry and starving, and only you could satiate his appetite.

His other hand presses your hip back against the wall as he kicks your legs apart, drawing a gasp from your lips. Alastor takes the opportunity to run his tongue across your bottom lip before snaking it into your mouth. His tongue finds yours, prodding, testing, tasting.

He pushes you flush against the wall, his knee pressing higher and higher until it finds the pocket between your thighs, eliciting a gasp that turns into a moan as he pulls you onto him, forcing your clit in line with his leg.

The demon smiles against your lips, finally releasing your chin to grab your waist, his fingers bunching in the thin material of your pajama bottoms. You take the opportunity to find the lapels of his jacket to give you something to grab onto as you arch into him, pulling him closer as you press your breasts into his chest. The demon growls, a deep rumble emanating from within as he bites down on your bottom lip.

Copper floods your mouth, turning the kiss sweet, but for Alastor, it’s a frenzy. He was no longer satisfied with just tasting you. He had to devour you.

The silky material of your pajamas was oh-so thin. No underwear or bra beneath them, you were practically naked as the tips of his claws sank into the meat of your hips, beads of red pebbling on your skin.

God and the pain only added to the pleasure building between your legs, only made your head swim as his lips slid over yours, capturing every drop of scarlet flooding your mouth.

The demon helps guide your hips as you ground your clit into his thigh, wetness seeping into the silky material before pooling onto his pants. The room flooded with the scent of warm vanilla.

This man had you soaked, had your lips dripping as you ground into him faster and faster, your pleasure building with each roll. Alastor finally released your mouth, his teeth finding your neck, but he didn’t bite. Instead, he teased. He ran his tongue along the dip of your collarbone, tracing it to the spot where your shoulder met your neck, before finally running it up to your ear.

You moaned when he took your lobe into his mouth, nipping at it with his teeth. Alastor instinctively rolled his hips, his cock tenting his pants, grinding on nothing but air.

Suddenly, it wasn’t enough. The friction wasn’t enough. You needed more. Needed more of him to push yourself over the edge.

“Al…” You breathed into his ear between moans, your fingers trailing down to the twitch in his pants, but stopping when you hit his belt. “Please…” You tugged.

The demon laughed, capturing your groans with his mouth before answering, “No.”

You blinked. “No?”

The demon puts a hard stop to your hips, pausing your grinding and the build in your pleasure. He grabs your hand on his belt and captures two of your fingers in his mouth. Sucking with his lips, he circles your fingertips with his tongue, wetting them before guiding your hand back down to your clit.

“I want to watch,” he smiles against your cheek before he wraps a finger under your chin and brings your face up to his. “Fuck yourself,” he commands.

And you obeyed.

Your two fingers find the apex of your pleasure beneath your shorts, and you moan, wetting your clit with his spit as you circle the bud.

You barely have to touch yourself, you’re already so close.

Alastor does nothing to help, save for his gaze, save for his breath which matched yours. The demon’s eyes glittered with heat and desire as they bore into you. He could feel the pleasure radiating off of you, could feel it as real as you could feel his static on the other side of the bond you formed today.

“Good girl,” he growled, his cock twitching in his pants with each moan that escaped your lips.

“I’m close,” you whined, twirling your fingers faster and faster, feeling the pressure build between your legs.

Alastor dug his claws into your skin, his gaze soaking up every look of pleasure on your face, his ears absorbing every moan, his cock hardening with every swipe of your fingers against yourself.

“Cum for me, darling.” The demon’s lips curled as he swiped the hair from your eyes, sticky with sweat. He wanted to watch as you sent yourself over the edge. He wanted to miss nothing.

And just as you reached your climax...

(Keep scrolling)

...you wake up in bed, your screams of pleasure drawing you from sleep.

Your orgasm spasmed through your body, your legs twitching as you rode the wave, your pussy clenching on nothing but air…

Fuck, it was the best orgasm you had ever had, nevermind that it was your first.

And when it was over and your mind sobered, you realized it was all a dream.

You never woke up for a glass of water.

You never found Alastor in the library.

Grabbing a pillow, you launched it at the radio on the coffee table but missed by a mile. Burying your face in the sheets, you screamed. You screamed until your lungs burned because anything was better than acknowledging the truth.

Anything was better than acknowledging that you just had your very first wet dream, and it was of Alastor, the Radio Demon.

Muahahahaha! Remember it's a slow burn ;)

-> Chapter Six

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

*Plato's Allegory of the Cave

Tag List (Let me know if you want to be added):

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @goyablogsstuff

#alastor #alastor shadow #alastor smut #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin #radio demon #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel x you #reader insert #smut #Spotify

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keerysfreckles · 8 months ago

Note

hi bae. requesting prompt 6 with charles, lando, and max 😘😘😘

obsessed — CL16 LN4 MV1

pairing: charles leclerc x reader, lando norris x reader, max verstappen x reader

prompt: denial. realization. obsession.

warnings: none!

a/n: credits to @bunnysrph for the post break!!

masterlist ! | 1k celebration prompts !

. . .�� charles leclerc

denial. charles would never fall for his best friend. he couldn't. the second he caught the view of you laughing with your friend, your wide smile adorned with the crinkles by your eyes. he knew he was in deep, and he hated himself for it.

realization. after two and a half months of trying to deny his own feelings for you, he finally accepted it. he could barely keep his eyes off of you. while he brought you to races, he kept you near, just for an excuse to be close to you. carlos mentioned to the other ferrari driver how he has 'heart eyes' for you. as soon as carlos left the room, charles smiled to himself, knowing how much he really cared for you.

obsession. ever since charles confessed his feelings to you, you've been attached at the hip. you loved every second of it. he cared about you before, but it's only been amplified. he helps carries your things, spends extra time with you before you have to get out of bed, and cooks dinner with you (even though he messes up almost every meal). he talks about you whenever he can, and loves when you get brought up in interviews. he can't wait to tell you he loves you.

. . .♡ lando norris

denial. lando shut himself out when he first felt such strong feelings for you. he rarely responded to your texts, and didn't even pick up your calls. you had to rely on oscar to see how lando has been doing since he's been m.i.a. lando on the other hand, wondered how he could possibly fall for you. maybe it was just a silly crush, that would go away in a week or two. that's all he could hope it was.

realization. it's been three weeks since lando discovered his feelings for you, and no, they haven't gone away. he didn't mind though. the feeling was starting to become normal now. the longing glances towards you in the paddock and while out with friends didn't go unnoticed by his friends. he smiled to himself whenever he saw you, he couldn't help it. oscar noticed right away, and was quick to point it out to lando. "it's been two minutes and you haven't stopped staring at her." "shut up osc." (he says with a smile).

obsession. god lando was obsessed with you. he couldn't go five minutes without some form of physical contact. he'd have his hand around your waist, rubbing small circles with his thumb. he was always kissing your shoulder before he left the room. his hands never left your hair while you cuddled in his bed. you laughed when he told you his motivation to finish a race was to be able to hold you. his eyebrows furrowed when he told you he meant every word.

. . .♡ max verstappen

denial. despite his growing feelings for you, max kept you close. not once did he mention anything towards you, keeping your friendship the same as it was. he liked the calmness, and he knew if he spilled anything it would reck it. therefore he buried the feelings, denied them.

realization. after max was told he became the world champion, he only wanted to run up to one person. that person was you, and that was when he knew. he only wanted to hug you after the cool down lap, he only wanted to kiss you, and finally tell you how he's been feeling for weeks. his smile couldn't be wiped off his face as he was able to find you in the crowd and pull you into a hug.

obsession. max's favorite thing to do was kiss you. he wasn't picky either. he'd kiss your forehead, your cheek, your neck, your nose, and most importantly your lips. oh how he loved kissing your lips. he felt as though they were made for him. yours molded to his perfectly, and he wouldn't want it any other way.

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writerjayne · 24 days ago

Text

"C'mon Scott, it's Halloween!!"

"Every day is Halloween for us Stiles," Scott sighed, picking at the food on his lunch tray.

"Not every day!" Stiles tried to protest, but when Scott gave him a look, Stiles relented slightly. "Okay, sure, every day can feel like Halloween when you're a teenage werewolf, but hear me out!!"

"Here you out about what?" Lydia asked as she and Allison joined the table, setting down their trays.

"Scott's saying he doesn't want to do anything for Halloween!" Stiles whined slightly.

It was childish, he knew, to whine about this, but Halloween had always been Stiles' favorite. The decorations, the atmosphere of fall and fun, dressing up, and getting to be something else other than yourself. Not to mention the candy!

"What did you have in mind?" Erica asked as she, Isaac, and Boyd sat across from them.

"It's not like I want to go trick or treating or anything," Stiles explained. "I just thought it would be fun to spend it together and celebrate. Though handing out candy would be fun."

"We could watch scary movies," Boyd suggested.

"Or we would walk some of the more decorated neighborhoods to look at the lights," Isaac added.

"Normal stuff!" Stiles pointed out as he looked pleadingly at Scott.

"Where would we even meet?" Scott countered.

"Any of our houses would work," Lydia said practically. "Except maybe Allison's."

"That's a good point," Allison agreed. "Dad's come a long way accepting my friendship with the pack, but I don't think he would be thrilled if I brought the pack home."

"We could ask Derek if we can use the loft!" Erica offered, enthusiasm warming her voice.

"Costumes?" Stiles asked.

"Optional?" Lydia offered the compromise, and Stiles nodded.

"I'm good with that!" Stiles couldn't help his growing smile. "And if we don't want to commit to a full movie, we could look up Halloween episodes of TV shows we like!"

"Oh, I like that idea!" Allison looked at Scott, hopefully. "What do you think?"

Scott sighed again, but before he could answer, Stiles chimed in one more time:

"C'mon Scott, it'll be like when we were little!"

That sentiment, along with Stiles' pleading eyes, was enough for Scott to give in with a reluctant smile.

"I'm clearly outvoted. Who's house should we use?"

"I think it depends on how late we'll be staying," Lydia said, ever the practical hostess. "Do we want to spend the night?"

The group debated for a while who's house to use, and the pros and cons of the different locations weighed and considered. The Loft vs the Lake House. The Lake House vs Scotts House. Scott's house vs Stiles' House and, of course, Stiles' house vs the Loft. Full circle a few times before it was eventually decided that Stiles' house was the best choice, not only because his street got a decent amount of foot traffic and trick-or-treaters but because Stiles had the most movie options.

******

"I still think every day is Halloween for us," Scott said by way of greeting when he arrived at Stiles' house after school.

"And today, it's for everyone!" Stiles grinned, tossing a pack of Reese's pieces to the grumpy werewolf. "So you'll just have to deal with it. Nice costume, by the way."

"It was easy enough," Scott shrugged. He was wearing a set of scrubs and had a stethoscope around his neck. "I didn't even have to steal anything."

"I resent that comment," Stiles laughed. "I didn't steal anything either!"

"So you just happened to have a leather jacket lying around?"

"For your information, I borrowed it from Isaac," Stiles huffed.

"He's lucky it fit," Isaac teased as the two entered the living room. The were' was lounging on the couch in a white T-shirt and jeans. The T-shirt had been written on with a Sharpie to say, 'This is my costume.' "He's kind of short," Isaac said.

"Am I short or are you just freakishly tall?" Stiles shot back.

"What are you supposed to be anyway?" Scott asked, plopping on the couch next to Isaac.

"Isn't it obvious?" Stiles' grin had a hint of mischief now. "Here I'll give you a hint!"

Stiles crossed to the furthest side of the room and struck a pose. His hands in his pockets, feet apart, and something close to a glare on his face as he stared at Scott. Scott stared back for a minute, thinking before he burst into laughter.

"Are you Derek?" He managed to gasp between peals of laughter.

Stiles dropped the glare, his face lighting up at Scott's delight.

"Yeah! He'll probably kill me for it, but it's still a good costume!"

"I know I said he didn't steal it, but if Derek asks, he absolutely did," Isaac grinned too, but before he could say more, he cocked his head towards the door.

"They back with the pizza?" Stiles asked, and Isaac nodded.

Scott could hear them all now, too.

"Perfect timing. It sounds like Lydia is here, too. Allison's with her," Isaac reported what he could hear to Stiles' human ears.

"Awesome! Scott, grab plates for us?" Stiles asked.

"Sure," Scott stood, heading to the kitchen.

When he came back, everyone was settling around the living room.

Erica was in all black and had a pair of cat ears. Boyd didn't seem to be wearing a costume but had brought several bags of candy (both to share and to pass out). Allison had braided her hair over one shoulder and brought her bow for a simple Katniss costume. Lydia was in a simple green dress with fake ivy twined around her head in a crown.

"Poison Ivy?" Scott asked as he handed out the plates.

Lydia nodded.

"It had been my plan for handing out candy at home so I figured I would still wear it!"

"Ivy and Catwoman," Stiles joked "wish we had known there was a theme."

"Don't worry, Stiles, you're still my Batman," Erica winked.

The group fell into easy banter, occasionally interrupted by trick-or-treaters as it got later. Eventually, they put on the Addams Family Values just for the atmosphere, as they mostly kept talking and handing out candy. It wasn't far into the movie when Derek showed up.

"Hey Sourwolf!" Stiles called from the couch when Derek followed Erica inside.

"Erica said you were all hanging out for Halloween," Derek looked awkward as he explained. "She said I should come."

"Absolutely!" Stiles grinned. "Come sit. I think we have pizza still. Where did the box go?"

Derek settled next to Stiles and was handed a plate with a couple of slices of pizza on it. He took a bite and subconsciously scanned the room as he ate, noting everyone's costumes or lack of costumes. He was confused by Stiles', though. The jacket was clearly Isaac's, and for the life of him, Derek couldn't figure out what Stiles was supposed to be.

It was when Stiles was coming back from his turn to hand out candy that Derek finally asked.

"So what are you supposed to be?"

Derek was confused by the giggles that broke out at his question.

"Haven't figured it out yet, big guy?" Stiles smirked. "I'm you!" Stiles struck his pose and aimed his glare at Derek. "Back when you were a creeperwolf who would stare instead of actually communicating!"

Everyone was laughing again, and Derek couldn't help a small smile.

"Terrible," was all he said, and Stiles shrugged, his usual smile coming back.

"At least I have a costume!"

General protest broke out at this, and Stiles had to dodge thrown candy as he made his way back to his seat next to Derek. If Stiles took advantage of that fact to tuck himself closer to Derek (to use him as a shield), no one needed to know.

And if, a couple of hours later, Derek casually put an arm around Stiles, who could blame him? He just needed to stretch; it was cramped on the couch.

And if they were still like that, leaning into each other, fast asleep, surrounded by the pack (also asleep through the room, haphazardly covered with blankets and using each other as pillows), when the sheriff came home the next morning, who would be surprised? Certainly not Noah Stilinski, who snapped a few photos before grabbing some candy from the bowl on the table and heading upstairs. He could let them sleep. Questions could wait.

#teen wolf #pack Halloween #Halloween #stiles stilinski #derek hale #fanfiction #sterek #erica reyes #vernon boyd #scott mccall #allison argent #lydia martin #isaac lahey #halloween fic #happy halloween

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jessmaybank · 2 years ago

Text

My best friends brother series; Part 2 - Nothing good happens after 4am

Series masterlist

Outer banks masterlist

Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x fem! Kook reader.

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: After doing your best to avoid him, tensions rise between you and Rafe at a kegger.

Warnings: alcohol use, swearing, SMUT, unprotected sex, Praise kink, Oral (f receiving), fingering, choking.

It’s been a week since you kissed Rafe at his house. The pain of your recent breakup seems little compared to the guilt that washes over you every day, knowing that Sarah would be so mad if she ever found out.

The day after, Rafe texted you saying that he’s not going to tell anyone about what happened. You were relieved to say the least, replying with a blunt thumbs up emoji. You haven’t spoke since.

You have avoided going over to the Cameron house, scared to face Rafe and his cocky self. The worst part though, was that even though you would never admit it, one kiss with Rafe had made you forget about your ex completely.

Instead, your mind was consumed in everything Rafe Cameron. The way his eyes would darken as he gazed at your own, the way his veiny hands would trace painfully slow circles on your thigh, making you so aroused. Even the way he-

“Earth to Y/N! What’s up with you” Sarah says, nudging your shoulder as you sit next to each other in class.

“Sorry, just daydreaming. Always happens when I’m tired” you lie. If only she knew you were imagining how her brothers hands felt wrapped around your neck as he pounded into you.

“Are you coming to the kegger tonight? It’s supposed to be the biggest one yet” she exclaims.

“That’s what they say every time Sarah” you scoff.

“I’ll take that as a yes. You can stay round mine after, I know what your parents are like” she replies.

Before you could protest, the bell rings to signal the end of the class, and Sarah shoots out of the class room. Shit.

Later that night, you were stood in front of the mirror checking yourself out. You decided to ditch your normal summer dresses and wear something a bit more…slutty. Instead, you settled for a tight pink satin dress that you borrowed from Sarah ages ago. If you were going to spend the night stressed out, at least you would look good doing it.

You got a lift to the party with JJ and the other pogues, your heart racing as your were anticipating the night to come. luckily, John b brought some drinks which helped you calm your nerves.

An hour into the party and you were actually having a really good time. Thankfully, it seemed Rafe and the others decided not to come.

That was, however, until you made your way over to the keg to get another drink. As you poured your drink, you felt a pair of hands snake their way around your waist.

“What the fuck” you say, turning around to realise it’s none other than Rafe, his large frame peering over your petite one.

Rafe’s bold move proved to be no suprise to you, he’s the type of person that when he knows what he wants, he takes it. And In this case, he wanted you.

“Missed me?” he says, a smirk painted on his handsome face.

“Are you crazy? What if someone sees us” you say, concern laced in your voice.

Rafe rolls his eyes as he retracts his hands from you, putting his hands in his pockets instead. You never knew someone rolling their eyes could be so sexy, but here he was.

As tempting as he was, and god was he tempting, your friendship with Sarah meant more to you than sex with some kook who would probably just fuck you once and then never speak to you again. You knew better than that.

“Rafe, listen to me. What happened last week was a one time thing, and a mistake. Just leave me alone, okay?” You protest, storming off to find your friends.

You hoped he got the message, but unfortunately your hopes were crushed when you received a text 5 minutes later.

Rafe Cameron: you look so sexy when your angry.

You scoff at your phone, which the pogues take notice of.

“What’s up?” Pope says.

You debate telling them everything, maybe they would understand?

“Nothing, just work. They’ve given me shifts all weekend” you lie, deciding you were in too deep to come clean now.

You managed to avoid him for the rest of the night, and when you and Sarah stumbled back to the Cameron house, you were thankful he wasn’t back yet.

You woke up in the spare room at about 4am, desperate for something to quench your thirst. You decided the only option was to tip toe downstairs and get a drink from the kitchen, surely everyone is in bed sleeping right now.

So that’s what you do. You wonder downstairs in one of Sarah’s baggy t shirts and drink what felt like a gallon of water. You were half way through your second glass when the lights flicker on.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave me alone” you say, looking up at Rafe as he walks towards you. Your sleepy state making you more moody than usual.

“I don’t know if you forgot, but this is actually my house” he replies sarcastically with a small chuckle.

The blue eyed boy standing in front you represented everything you hated. Greed, selfishness and everything in between. So why is my heart racing right now?

You glare at his smugness, and try to shove past him to head upstairs. To your dismay, he stops you.

“Has anyone ever told you you’ve got a bad attitude” he tuts, removing the glass from your hand and setting it on the counter, before returning his hands to your waist for the second time tonight. He towers over you easily.

The answer to his question was no. Usually, your a very polite girl who hates confrontation. Rafe just brings this side out of you, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

Your thoughts were interrupted as he pushes you against the counter, a small gasp leaving your mouth.

“I wanna fuck it straight out of you” he says, his blue eyes burning with desire.

“I can’t, i-“ your words were interrupted as Rafes lips met your neck, peppering light kisses and occasionally nipping at your skin.

That was all it took for your defences to come crashing down before him. You were completely and utterly burning for him. Maybe you didn’t have the self control you once thought you had.

Rafe grabs your neck and smashes his lips onto yours. This time, the kiss was anything but gentle. His tongue roamed around your mouth with want and need, and the passion was something you had never quite experienced before.

You pulled at his dirty blonde locks as your tounges fought for dominance, neither of you wanting to submit to the other.

Hungry for more, Rafe pulls down your panties and abandons them on the kitchen floor, before lifting you up onto the counter in one swift motion.

He peppers sloppy kisses down your neck and your chest, before reaching the place your burning for him the most, spreading your legs apart for him.

“So fucking wet for me” he hums, the flirtation in his voice sending waves throughout your body. Why does something bad always feel so goddamn good.

His tongue teases your clit as he peers up at you, watching the way your mouth opens and your back arches at his actions. The eye contact alone could make you cum right there and then.

He quickly inserts two fingers into you, the action making you cry out in pleasure.

He stands up as he continues pumping in and out of you, using his free hand to cover your mouth.

“Shh princess, wouldn’t want my sister to know how good I’m making you feel right now, would we?”

You shake your head, unable to form a reply as he hits spots in you no one else ever has.

“So good for me” he teases, watching your fucked out state beneath him.

You whimper as his fingers leave your core, which he chuckles at. He quickly removed his shorts and underwear, his cock springing out as your eyes slightly widen, gazing at the way pre cum was spilling out of him. He was a lot bigger than you imagined.

He wasted no time in pushing his pulsing cock into you. Your mouths both fall open as he fucks you, a string of moans and curses leaving you both at the overwhelming pleasure. his fingers entering your mouth to stiffle your moans once again. You can taste your arousal on his fingers, turning you on even more.

You don’t even care that anyone could walk down any minute and see him pounding into you, including Sarah. If anything, it’s making you want him more.

“Shit, Rafe” you moan, although your words are muffled by his fingers.

“So fucking tight for me, my good little girl” he says. The way your clenching around him has him feeling pure ecstasy right now.

He removes his hand from your mouth, bringing it down to your neck and squeezing before kissing you again. The kisses were sloppy, but perfect.

You can feel yourself starting to come undone as he fucks you into oblivion, the pleasure bringing you to a new high.

“Fuck I’m ganna-“ your cut of as your orgasm washes over you, your legs shaking as you bury your head in Rafes neck to stop your moans.

The way you clench around him sends Rafe over the edge as his hot cum spills inside of you, riding you through your high.

Yours and Rafes heathy breathing fills the silence in the room as he pulls out of you, resting his forehead against your own.

After a moment, Rafe breaks the silence with possibly the cockiest thing you’ve ever heard him say.

“See, the attitudes gone. All you needed was my cock inside of you” he whispers, his signature smirk returning to his tired face.

He leaves you there as he returns to his room, his cum spilling down your legs as you try to gather your thoughts.

What the hell have i just done.

#obx #outerbanks #Rafe Cameron #Rafe Cameron smut #drew starkey #outer banks smut #Rafe Cameron x reader

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a-french-coconut · 5 months ago

Text

Jason Grace

Birthdays are, for Jason, a day like another.

It's a normal day.

Nothing out of the ordinary comes from completing another year of living.

When came the day of his third birthday, Lupa gave him a little more food than the other cups.

As for Camp Jupiter...

Well, Jason never bothered telling his fellow comrades his birthday date.

Every time someone asked him "When's your birthday ?", he would always shrug it off and divert the attention somewhere else.

That was until Reyna came along and baked him cakes every single day of the year.

"If you won't tell me, I'll assume it's always today." She would tell him, presenting him a burnt cake with wax dripping from the ignited candles.

He should have know waging war against the daughter of Bellona would mean defeat.

And so, in their first year of friendship, Reyna learns that Jason Grace's birthday is July 1st, in honour of Juno, his patron goddess.

But to his insistence, they don't celebrate it.

"Why ?" She asked him one night, the both of them watching the city from above, in Bacchus' gardens.

"I already have enough attention as it is." He lies, because the truth is that he wants to preserve his birthday like he knows it.

A blurred image of a blue-eyed girl, swinging him around and singing him "Happy Birthday !". He fears that if he celebrated his birthdays, that memory would fade.

"My full name is Reyna Avila Ramirez Arellano." Reyna said out of the blue.

"That's a mouthful." He smiled before trying to pronounce it. "Reyna Avila Ramirez Arellano, it's-"

"Don't say it again." Reyna cuts him, her hands clutching her t-shirt, "Never."

"Okay." He replies and he understands why she said it to him.

A treaty, a deal between them.

Two things only they know of each other, a proof of trust.

That night, Reyna became the person Jason trusted more than anyone.

Years passed and nobody bothered to ask him about his birthday.

War is looming on the horizon, a storm ready to fall upon them.

They need to see him as a general, a fearsome warrior ready to lead them to victory.

He is the son of Jupiter and wether he is fourteen or fifteen matters not.

It's not until his sixteenth birthday that Jason understands why birthdays are a special date.

A day to commemorate your life, to celebrate living another year.

When Piper hands him a cupcake, with poorly made frosting, Jason eats it, savouring every bite.

That memory goes lock itself next to Thalia's.

When the war is over, Jason thinks that celebrating his seventeenth birthday with all his friends wouldn't be that bad.

(In canon, Jason never makes it to seventeen. Here, we throw canon out of the window because birthday boy deserves some happiness.)

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

Jason plops down on his bed, sighing.

What a long year it had been.

His sixteenth year of living began with a fight on the Acropolis, where he basically told his father he was a idiot for punishing Apollo.

Only for said god to barge into his dormitory months later, very mortal looking.

Then, his home is attacked by a zombie army lead by a dead roman king.

And how could he forget Piper breaking up with him.

Overall, that year wasn't the best of years Jason lived.

Except for all the friends he met and the sense of peace it brought him.

Not fully Roman, not entirely Greek, Jason is a children of both.

He has every right to feel at home in Camp Jupiter or Camp Half-Blood, where his father's statue is looking at him right now.

Jason lays in his bed, head purposesly facing the wall, and lets Morpheus greets him in his oneiric realm.

As Artemis leads her moon chariot in the night, June 31st morphs into July 1st.

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

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUPERMAN !"

A lousy voice startles Jason out of sleep and he jolts awake.

"What ?" He asks disoriented and tangled in his sheets.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUPERMAN !" The same voice screams and it comes from a flying table making circles in his cabin.

"Buford ?" Jason yawns, "what are you doing here ?"

"WISHING YOU A HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUPERMAN !" Buford yells in his electronic voice, "FROM THE HOTTEST BOY ON EARTH !"

"Right, right, thank you. Can you tone it down a little ?"

"FROM THE DREAM OF ALL LADIES !"

"Yeah, I get it. But please, it's-" He checks the clock, "it's seven am."

"FROM THE SUPREME COMMANDER OF THE ARGO II !"

"What ? I gotta say his name ?"

"FROM YOUR BEST FRIEND !"

"Okay," Jason laughs softly, "thank you Leo for wishing me a happy birthday."

"YOU'RE WELCOME BLONDIE ! NOW GET DRESSED AND COME OUTSIDE !" Buford zooms out of the cabin by the open roof.

Jason shakes his head and quickly puts on a Camp t-shirt and a pair of jeans. When he opens the door, there's no one.

"I know you guys are hiding !" He screams as he scans his surroundings. "Buford told me-" He huffs as a weight settles of his back and arms snake around his neck.

"Happy birthday Jason !" Leo screams in his ear, "Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy-"

"birthday, thanks." Jason completes, holding Leo on his back.

"Amigo, you are going to live the best day of your life !" Leo claps his shoulders, excited.

"Did you plan it all ?"

"With some help but yes, it was me." Leo shrugs, "Now, it's time for breakfast."

"To the Pavillon we go."

Camp's grounds are empty as they walk towards the eating Pavillon.

"Nobody was woken up by Buford ?" Jason asks, surprised, "he made quite the noise."

"Don't worry about that." Leo flicks his head, surely grinning like a madman.

"Fine, but I don't want to bother anyone-" He falters as they enter the Pavillon.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY JASON !" The whole camp scream, whistle, whoop.

He feels his face going hot, "Thanks you guys ! It's very nice of you to-"

At the Apollo Cabin, Will takes a mic and begins to sing.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, Jason Grace, happy birthday to you !" He finishes amidst his siblings' applauses.

"Woah, thank you Will." Jason says, his face probably the colour of a tomato.

Will bows and sits back, himself a little red but pleased with himself.

Leo jumps down from him, "Camp rules still apply so I gotta leave you here. But don't worry, I've got other surprises planned out for you." Leo winks and goes join his siblings.

Jason makes his way towards his table, murmuring "thank you", "really appreciated it", "you're the best." to all the campers he crosses.

When he finally sits down, another little surprise awaits him.

Blue brownies with a note.

"Sorry I'm not here buy you know, studies. Still, Annabeth and I wish you a happy birthday and you'll get our gifts later ! Enjoy your day, I'm still better than you because I win Kansas- ouch Annabeth ! Yes, I'm writing it because Jason will be my witness of your attitude. Appreciate the letter bro because it took me a while with dyslexia.

Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase

PS : I made the brownies (as if it wasn't obvious.), shut up Annabeth. Wait, can I still say shut up if you're writing ? (End the letter.), right, okay, ending the letter now."

Jason chuckles fondly, munching on a delicious brownie while he reads the note.

Most of his friends are at Camp Jupiter, Frank, Hazel, Annabeth, Percy.

He knows they would be here with him if they could, but the praetors are too busy to leave and Percy and Annabeth had exams coming up.

He tucks the note into his jeans and finishes the brownies, sacrificing a conjured apple to his father.

Hello, Father. Thank you for, hum, conceiving me ?

Yeah, that'll do.

He almost faceplates when Leo jumps on his back again.

"You're like a leech." He huffs, readjusting him so they are both comfortable.

"Don't know what that is but I'll assume it's something good." Leo replies, poking his neck. "Head towards the arena please, you have sword fighting class."

"No I don't."

"Yes, you do." Leo chirps, "now go."

"Leech." Jason groans.

Another surprise awaits him at the arena.

"Nico !"

The son of Hades gives him a small wave, "Hi Jason. Happy birthday."

"You came all the way from the Underworld ?" Jason asks with a big smile on his face, "for me ?"

"Don't flatter yourself that much Jason." Nico replies drily, "Will is the main reason I'm here."

"Of course," Jason grins, "how presumptuous of me to assume otherwise."

"I hope I'm not interrupting-" Leo pipes in.

"You are."

"Hush Di Angelo, I got best friend's privileges." Leo continues, "Give him your gift."

"You got me a gift ?"

"Yes." Nico mumbles, glaring at Leo, "I am here for your birthday after all. And Will of course." He adds, taking out a small box from his jacket and handing it to him.

He shrugs Leo off his back and takes the box.

It's pin, with "best cousin awards" written in big golden letters on it.

"It's-" Jason smiles, "it's just to piss Percy off when he sees it, isn't it ?"

"No." Nico says with a straight face. Jason looks at him. "Maybe a little," he concedes, "but I do believe you are not a bad cousin to have."

"Thanks Nico." Jason says earnestly, "I would hug you but..."

Nico smiles, "I can make an exception." and opens his arms.

Jason hugs him briefly and as soon as he's done, Leo climbs again.

"Right ! Now Nico, go find your boyfriend and Jason, direction the Big House !"

This little game lasts the whole day, Leo taking him to different places and people greeting him, wishing him happy birthday.

Malcolm gives him sets of models and black glasses.

"From Annabeth and Percy." He said.

"I understand Annabeth's gifts but did Percy explained ?"

"Yeah." Malcolm suppressed a grin, "It's to help you disguise yourself, like Clark Kent."

Jason rolled his eyes but hanged the glasses on his t-shirt's hem.

Drew gifted him contact lenses.

Connor offered him a book on geometry and architectural design.

"Annabeth might have helped a little." The son of Hermes confessed "And I promise I bought them fair and square."

Katie, Nyssa, Pollux all give him gifts.

It warms his heart that they care so much.

"You did help save our camp." Katie smiled, "It's the kind of thing that makes us appreciate you."

He now has a beautiful plant, a new set of armour and a ticket to an arcade room in New York.

The sun sets and it's time for dinner.

"Leo," Jason calls him as his friend join his table, "thank you for this day, it was the best birthday gift ever."

His friend's eyes glint, "Ah but Jace, the day's not over yet !" and he leaves cackling.

What could have he planned ? Jason thinks as he eats his fries.

Two hands suddenly obscure his vision.

He waits for the person to speak but she doesn't, "I have to guess ?"

He takes the silence for a yes.

"Hum," Jason thinks, who could it be ? One of his friends from Camp Jupiter ? Or... maybe... "Thalia ?" He call out hesitantly.

"Great guess little brother." Thalia laughs as her face appears next to him, "great guess."

He hugs her instantly, "You-"

"Came especially for your birthday, yeah." Thalia finishes, "how could I not ? My little brother is seventeen !" She ruffles his hair, arm on his shoulder.

"For me," Jason repeats, "you came for me."

"Yeah," Thalia says, "I'll always come for you Jason, always." She smiles before adding, "happy birthday."

"You were my only memory for a while you know." He gulps, feeling tears pooling in his eyes. "I'm sorry- I don't know why I'm crying, it's a happy moment, I'm happy-" He takes a big breath, Thalia's circular hugs on his back soothing him.

"You always loved this." Thalia says wistfully, "It always succeeded to calm your tantrums."

"Still works." He sniffles, leaning into Thalia's touch.

"Fate is a cruel thing," she whispers, "I never thought I would see you again after mom left you in those woods. And I've missed all your life, all your birthday parties-"

"You didn't, I never celebrated my birthday until last year." Jason whispers back, "I wanted to keep how I remembered it, with you swinging me around in the house."

Thalia chortles, "You already loved being in the air as a baby, you would always sit next to me and ask to be carried."

"I'm too big now."

"Hey," she nudges him, "no matter how taller you get, you will always be my little brother."

"I'm older though."

"Tough, you're still younger in my eyes." She snarks back, her head resting on his shoulder. "Leo's the one that invited me. I would have come nonetheless but I'm glad you found him, he's a good friend."

"Yeah," he agrees, "he is."

"I didn't come alone." Thalia adds, "there's another hunter with me."

"Hello Jason." A new voice says from behind.

"Reyna," Jason replies, "you're a huntress now."

She nods, "It's what is best for me."

"I'm going to leave you two alone," Thalia says, standing up, "I'll sleep in Zeus cabin tonight so see you later."

After she leaves, Reyna makes no move to go seat with him.

She's as Jason remembered, exuding an air of royalty and undeniable leadership.

She's the leader everyone see when they look at her, the woman who lead New Rome by herself, the demigod that killed a giant.

But Jason can see the small scar on her right wrist, the one she got for teasing Aurum too much with his food.

Or how she's nibbling her lip, indicating she's hungry and the way her hands are clasped behind her back, so that Jason doesn't see them trembling.

She's vainly trying to put a facade Jason can see right through.

"I'm sorry." He says, because it's all he can say.

"What for ?" She tilts her head, "you didn't ask Juno to capture you."

"But you loved me." He adds, because they need to address it, "you loved me and I came back with another girl."

She stiffens and Jason knows that her hands are tightly clasped, Reyna willing herself to stay composed.

"It wasn't your fault, I shouldn't have assumed you liked me back." Reyna clears her throat, "You had every right to date Piper."

"But-" He protests because he expected her to be angry, to be cold. She shouldn't be understanding, "I-"

She laughs bitterly, cutting him off, "You and Thalia share it, you know ? That unshaken belief that you are the cause of everything, that you have a hand in each matter evolving around you. I suppose it is divine heritage." she muses.

She scans the tables, her face lingering on Cabin 10.

"Venus' children ?" She asks and he nods, "Do you remember Charleston ?"

"Hum yes, we went to retrieve imperial gold-"

"I met Venus that day, and she told me that no demigod would ever heal my heart and that I will never find love where I hoped or wished to find." Reyna tells him, still looking at the Aphrodite Cabin, "I never told anyone that" she turns her obsidian eyes on him, "except you."

An olive branch.

An echo to the start of their friendship.

"I'm sorry for leading you on, for never making clear that I considered you a good friend." Jason apologises, feeling angry towards the goddess for ruining his best friend's life, "I hope the hunters of Artemis bring you the family you deserve Reyna."

He leans towards her, "I'm a little jealous of you to be honest," he smiles, a grin devoid of mirth, "I never had such a family before, and I don't think I ever will."

A secret for a secret.

That's how started their first friendship and that is how begins their new one, Reyna quietly seating next to him and directly stealing his fries.

"We'll come visit," she assures him, "every time we are near your location."

She eats quietly for another moment, her eyes fixed on Leo making laugh Harley over some joke.

"I think you're wrong."

"About what ?" He asks.

"About having a family, I think there's someone who would very much like spending his life with you."

"His ?" Jason picks up, "who is it ?"

"Leo Valdez could also make with some family," Reyna muses, "don't you think ?"

"Yeah..." He says slowly, "yeah, I suppose he can."

Next to him, Reyna grins slightly. "I'm sure he would be delighted if you were to sit next to him at your campfire, I'll tell Thalia not to wait for you."

"Maybe I want to sit with Thalia."

She raises her eyebrow, "She'll be here for the next two days, you'll have time to see her."

"Okay, okay" he relents, "I'll ask him when dinner ends."

They spend the rest of dinner chatting about the shrines Jason has to build, the relief of not being predator anymore, Aurum and Argentum, Reyna's new lifestyle.

"Leo !" He calls the son of Hephaestus who looks surprised to see him, "Wanna sit with me at campfire ?" He asks nervously.

"You're not going with Thalia ?"

For a reason unknown to Jason, Nyssa sighs loudly behind them and pinching her nose.

"She's staying a few days, I'll see her later. Right now, I want to go with you."

He gestures his back and Leo laughs but obliges, his head resting on his shoulder.

"Lead the way, Superman."

After two hours of singing, roasting s'mores, laughing until it hurts, Jason lays in his bed in Cabin 1, with a smile as Thalia's light snores fill the room.

Birthdays, Jason has come to find, are extraordinary days that he cherishes a lot for they bring all his friends together.

He cannot wait for his eighteenth birthday.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JASON GRACE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know I'm a little late but it's because it ended up being way longer than I thought it would 😅

Sweet, fluffy, comforting story because he deserves it 💖

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #will solace #connor stoll #camp half blood #drew tanaka #jason grace #leo valdez #reyna avila ramirez arellano #thalia grace #valgrace #nico di angelo

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clubdionysus · 7 months ago

Text

[BAD DECISION #11] Perry

warnings: birds! jaykay gets kissed in a club :( paint party! fun!! b and jk then proceed to have a totally platonic shower :) normal friend things!!

soundtrack: better - khalid; & cry! - middle part

wc: 5.9k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist

Jeongguk ignores the look on Taehyung's face as you enter the bar that evening. It's not the hug that Jeongguk greets you with that's unusual, nor your typically sparkling appearance - but the smile on Jeongguk's lips? Yeah. Taehyung hasn't seen one like that in a while.

Still, he doesn't make a big deal of it, for Danbi's following just behind you. He's far more interested in his attempts (and failures) to chat her up, instead.

Namjoon watches on with shallow curiosity. His watchful eyes lounge on you as he takes a sip on his drink, a little more reserved than the others. Taehyung and Jimin greet you and Danbi like old friends, and in a way, it sort of feels like they are.

The club is empty - hasn't opened to punters yet, and won't for another half an hour. The suppliers hired for the paint cannons are still setting up; doing test runs into an empty space where patrons should be. It's strange to see this perspective of a club. Like a liminal space, it feels like you shouldn't be there - but the boys are unphased. Are used to it by now.

"And Hoseok?" Jeongguk questions when he notices the lack of sunshine shadowing behind you.

"Having drinks with the boys," you tell him without much care. You forget Jeongguk isn't as intricately weaved into your social life as he is into your personal life.

"The boys?"

He doesn't mean to sound so affronted, but he'd always just assumed it was the singular boy; that your little trio was a friendship that existed within a vacuum. Of course, it doesn't. You've an entire social circle that he's none the wiser of.

You pay his confusion no mind. "Yeah. How are you? How have you been?"

The conversation moves on, Jeongguk leading you into the room behind the bar in which they're pregaming.

"It's technically the staff room," he says with a shrug. "But what the boss doesn't know can't hurt him."

There's an airiness to his demeanour; his tipsy brain just as fluffy as the clouds that float around the ends of rainbows. There's safety there. No promises of gold, just certainty of a stable foundation.

It's a side to him you've never had the luxury of witnessing before, but part of you feels like you always knew he'd be like this. Always knew how he'd smile after a few drinks; how his giggle would sound just that little bit brighter.

"No Seoyeon tonight?" Jimin asks Yoongi as he arrives just a little after you. His cheeks are pink, the clammy heat of the club already getting to him, even when it's empty. Namjoon passes him a bottle of beer, unopened. Yoongi's unphased. Clamps the soft metal cap between his teeth and prizes it off, before he takes a sip and shakes his head.

"Nah, nah, she just dropped me off. Has brunch tomorrow with her friends so doesn't wanna be hungover," he explains as he takes a seat next to Taehyung.

Jeongguk leans over to you, quietly clueing you up. "His fiancée."

"Ah," you nod, before Yoongi turns his attention to you and Danbi.

You're reintroduced, and are quick to learn that Jeongguk and Jimin only ever seem to refer to you as Disco Ball amongst their friends. Yoongi mentions it first - 'you really do look like a disco ball' - but the rest of the boys chime in agreement.

There's protest from you. Sure, you've got enough glitter to decorate a Christmas card on your eyelids, but your outfit is pretty subdued. Jeongguk had told you not to wear anything fancy - "the paint is water-based, but just in case. Don't want you to wreck your favourite party dress, or anything like that." - and so you'd listened.

He doesn't tell you, 'cause he doesn't think you'll need it, but Jeongguk brought a spare shirt with him. Just a white one. Big. Wasn't sure if you'd think about the logistics of a paint party - but it isn't your first rodeo. You've been to a handful of events like these in the past, and know what to expect.

You're in a big white shirt of your own, wearing it like a dress with a flannel layered on top. Admittedly, the tights are giving disco ball chic - fishnets with teeny tiny gemstones sparkling underneath the dim lights of the backroom.

Jeongguk can't decide on how the fuck to describe your style. It's not grunge - too sparkly for that. Equally, there's too much of an edge to you for it to be considered 'girly'. He doesn't understand it. Quite likes it, though. Likes that you're still wearing those black hightops you always seem to be in.

Normally at the club you'd be in heels - but again, it's not your first rodeo. You know better than to tempt the paint party gods with a stiletto and sopping wet floor combination. Learnt that mistake the hard way back in university.

Jeongguk taps his foot against yours. No one else notices, too busy engaged in their own conversations. When you glance down, you realise why - he's in his converse, too. The only shoes he doesn't mind wrecking. They've been through the wars before. A little paint won't hurt them.

You knock his foot back. He smiles.

There are no words exchanged, just an understanding; you and he are cut from the same cloth.

You pay attention to everyone else's shoes now. Are looking for other kindred spirits. Jimin's in Chelsea boots- black leather, a little tarnished, in need of a polish.

Taehyung's in brogues for some reason, and you can't think of a worse shoe to have chosen for such an occasion. So many holes. So much to wreck.

Danbi, ever smart, ever stylish, is in a pair of white sneakers. She knows the game she's come to play. It's why she's in all white, too.

Yoongi and Namjoon are both sporting Nikes, not too fussed about the evening ahead.

And so it's just you and Jeongguk. You tap your feet against the floor and smile. "Stop copying me."

"I was here first, Byeol," he banters back, but is cut off by Yoongi declaring the need for you all to play a card game. It's one you don't think you've heard of, but make no objection. With the number of drinking games you've played over the last few years, you're almost certain you'll know it.

He deals cards and you quickly come to realise that you don't know the rules. Jeongguk tells you it's fine - "I'll help you out, c'mere." - and encourages you to show him your cards. He organises them; gets them in an order that will work for the game.

"Hey, I'm just as clueless!" Danbi pouts, and so Jimin grabs her cards to redistribute them.

"We'll work as a team," he says, eyes flicking over to Taehyung, just to check how he feels about it. Danbi is oblivious, but you catch the way Taehyung raises his brows in Jimin's direction. There's a slight smirk on his lips.

"Don't mind them," Jeongguk mumbles quietly, just for you to hear. "Jimin's just winding him up. Told Tae if he doesn't make a move that he will instead. Think he's just trying to encourage him. Making him be proactive, yanno?"

"He better bloody be," you muse, taking a sip on the drink Jeongguk had put in front of you when he started messing about with your cards. Tequila slammer. Fucking vile. Does get you fucked up, though.

"Jealous, are we, Byeol?" he smirks, swapping one of your cards with his. "Here, it'll help."

You don't dignify him with a response. It's a stupid thing to tease you about, because you know there's no way in hell Danbi would sleep with Jimin. While sharing is caring, sexual partners aren't something the pair of you have ever shared. Hasn't happened before, and won't happen in the future. It's an unspoken rule.

One that Jeongguk would do well to remember.

The evening carries on just as it began; light banter, drinks far too strong, and electromagnetic force somehow keeping you and Jeongguk attached at the hip. You're in the smoking area far more than you are on the dancefloor. You're not smoking, mind you, just talking nonsense. Making bets. Being stupid.

"Have you read him yet?" You ask when Jeongguk finally presents you with Perry the paper pigeon.

He shakes his head. Bites his lip. "No. You can do the honours."

He watches your hands as you unfold the paper, but the soft laugh you produce draws his attention to your face.

"Ask for someone's number," you read out, bemused at how shy Jeongguk apparently is.

He groans. "God, that's so embarrassing."

"Nooo," you laugh, drunk body swaying into his a little. He's giggling too, now. Can't seem to help it. "It's cute."

"So lame."

"Shut up," you beam. "It's a start! A good bloody place to start as well. Something easy."

Jeongguk vehemently disagrees. Tells you as such. Says, "imagine asking for a number and getting rejected over something so simple. Would be mortifying. A very valid fear."

"So you go for a girl you know is interested," you say. "Look, this is the best place for it. Remember how many girls find you on Instagram after they come here? It won't be any different now that you're out from behind the bar. If anything, you've got far more chances!"

He spends the next fifteen minutes moaning about it. You decide a drink is the only remedy to his whining.

You order four Purple Starfuckers from Yeonjun. Jeongguk is offended. Insists he can make them, despite the fact he is quite literally covered head to toe in paint. and has a permanent grin from just how tipsy he is. Yeonjun tells him no. Says the bar is off-limits. Jeongguk says he'll fire him, and Yeonjun just laughs in his face.

"Alright. Bet you 10,000 you won't remember trying to fire me in the morning."

"Deal."

"Disco Ball, you're our witness," the blue-haired menace winks towards you. "Make sure he pays up."

"Aye, aye, captain," you wink back, and instantly regret the rogue pirate shtick because Jeongguk looks at you like you've got three heads.

"The fuck?"

"What?"

"Captain," he snorts. "Captain."

"Oh, don't get jealous," you tease. "Is this because you want me to call you Daddy, again?"

This time, Yeonjun stops what he's doing. Looks at the pair of you with a slack jaw and wild eyes. Doesn't know what the fuck is going on between you, but knows he wants to watch every second of it unfold.

When he serves you shots, he smirks. "Here you go. Captain," he nods in your direction, and then in Jeongguk's. "Daddy."

"Never call me that again," Jeongguk gags.

"Sure thing, Daddio."

"Oh my God."

Yeonjun walks away laughing to himself, all very amused. Will never stop calling Jeongguk Daddy now that he knows it'll get a rise out of him. Imagines you'll probably get a very different kind of rise out of him when you call him Daddy, but that's neither here nor there.

"I hate you for that," Jeongguk tells you, and you kind of believe him - but God, that broad smile of his is on full display, and the glitter on your skin is reflecting in his eyes like a clear nights sky. Impossible to feel anything remotely close to hatred around him, you think.

"It doesn't matter," you tell him, having noticed the girl behind the pair of you check him out at least three times since you've been at the bar. You kind of recognise her. Think you must have seen her before, whether it be on his follower's list or in the club. She seems like a safe bet. Interested.

"Girl behind you - look, quickly, but don't make it obvious -" Jeongguk turns around like a deer in headlights. "I said don't make it obvious! The girl with the high pony. She's been looking at you for a while now. I think she's into you."

Suddenly, Jeongguk feels very out of his depth. "Maybe we should go outside."

"Nope," you say so sternly that he feels like he's being told off at school. "Perry says you have to ask a girl for her number. Just a number. It's not a big deal. What's the worst that could happen?"

"She'll say no."

"Boo-hoo. Cry about it. It's two letters, Gguk. One word. It won't ruin your life. Here -" you pass him the final Purple Starfucker "- Down it. You've got this. If she says no, fuck her."

"If she says no to giving me her number, I don't think she'll want to fuck."

"Christ, not literally, Gguk." You spin his shoulders around. Give him a nudge. "Go. Do it."

He takes a breath. Psyches himself up. Swallows back the taste of his shot - which is a lot better than the tequila slammers he's been drinking all night - and catches her eye.

You retreat back a little bit, trying to make yourself look busy. Yeonjun watches on from the bar, even more confused than he was before. Were the two of you not just flirting? Are you not definitely boning? He could have sworn you were.

The DJ transitions into a shitty remix of an old Sean Paul song, and you wish you'd have kept Jeongguk around for a little longer to orchestrate a better soundtrack for him. None of the crowd cares how shitty it is though - cannons are launching buckets of neon paint onto revellers, covering every inch of the place in a technicolour haze.

Your flannel shirt is in the backrooms, as is your bag. Danbi's handprints are on your tits, yours on her ass, but the rest of your shirt is just a haphazard mess of colour. There's no rhyme nor reason; just paint. So much fucking paint. It feels like you're back at work.

A mirror runs along the back of the bar, and you use it to observe Jeongguk's adventure. You kind of feel like a proud parent as they begin to talk.

"Hey," the girl smiles. Jeongguk thinks she sounds sweet. A lot raspier than he expected. He quite likes that, though - although he can't really hear her all that well above the bass of the speakers. The way her lips curve thanks to his approach makes him feel a lot more secure in his endeavour. "You're normally behind the bar, right? I think I've seen you before."

"Oh," Jeongguk cringes, a little embarrassed. This is why he doesn't go for punters. He hates that there's never a clean slate. Always feels unfair. "Yeah, yeah. I manage the bar. I'm surprised you noticed."

"Well you do a very good job," she compliments, twirling a little hair from her ponytail with her index finger.

"I do?"

"I keep coming back," she shrugs. "So you must do. Could be something to do with how cute the bar manager is, though."

You watch on as he talks to her, bemused by the way his weight shifts from one foot to the other. Clearly nervous, you think it's wild that Jeongguk is so scared of rejection. He's a catch. Sure, his working hours are a bit unsociable, and maybe he doesn't have life figured out just yet, but you don't think he's too far off.

It'll take a little time for him to get where he wants to be in life, but he's actively working for it. He's studying, laying down foundations. Has a great social circle and is yet to present any qualities you think could be problematic for a healthy, enduring relationship. In a room of walking red flags, he's gleaming white.

"Who is she?" Yoongi asks with great intrigue as he comes to stand beside you.

"Not a clue."

"Does he know who she is?" He laughs. Knows that you and Jeongguk have only been hanging out for a little while, but can also read the dynamic between the pair of you fairly well. Knows that your opinion clearly matters to Jeongguk, and is trying to gauge your thoughts.

"Hopefully he will do soon," you say with a warm smile. The girl is laughing at something Jeongukk has said, making his bashful gaze all the more endearing. "He's getting her number."

Yoongi chokes on his drink. "Holy shit."

It's been months since Jeongguk has even entertained the idea of another girl. Maybe even a year. Yoongi might not have known the ins and outs of his former fling, but he knows Jeongguk hasn't quite been the same since.

"Uh-huh."

"Is this Jeon Jeongguk finally back in the game?"

"Could be."

"Well, I never," Yoongi exhales. "You know how many times we've tried to get him back in the saddle?"

"You needed a woman's touch," you laugh, biting down on your lip slightly as you watch Jeongguk scratch at the back of his head. The girl is laughing, flirting, clearly. She rests her hand on his bicep, and Jeongguk seems all shy again. He looks up. Catches your gaze quickly. Doesn't let it linger, but finds himself thinking he should end the conversation and report back on everything that's happened - but when he looks back to you, he sees you engaged in conversation with Yoongi and decides against it.

"Clearly," Yoongi agrees. "I dunno what you've done to him, but he's finally acting like himself again."

"I'm just a good distraction," you shrug.

You're right. You are. You make Jeongguk forget all about his inner turmoil, cause he's always worried about yours instead. He's thinking about it now, as the girl's hand lingers on his shirt. Trails down his arm. Reaches for his hand.

"Y'know, I've actually gotta get back to my friends," he says. He's snagged on thoughts about you. Nothing in particular. Just the fact that you exist. That you're there. That he's not hanging out with you, and he feels like he should be.

She nods. "Yeah, me too. Text me, yeah?"

He returns the nod, almost too eagerly. "I will. Have a good night, yeah?"

She pulls a little on his hand. Is aiming for a kiss she isn't gonna get.

But then Jeongguk feels your gaze on him again, and there's pressure to perform; to act as if he's doing well, as if he isn't absolutely shitting himself. He doesn't stop her when she leans in. Doesn't stop her when her palm rests on his chest. Doesn't stop her when her lips press against his.

He wouldn't say he's encouraging it per say, but he definitely is letting it happen. He's not against it. In fact, he actually quite likes it.

"You're a miracle worker," Yoongi tells you.

"Miracle workers deserve free drinks," you tease, because you're very much in need of one.

"Right you are," he agrees, and turns to the bar.

You let your eyes linger, watching Jeongguk as his awkward arm finally moves from the frigid position next to his body to the small of her back. Wonder if he tastes more like tequila or lemonade. Think it doesn't really matter. You don't like either.

"Stop staring, you perv," Yoongi calls back to you and tells you to choose your drink. Says it's on him, but you both know it's on Jeongguk's tab.

When he finally returns, there's a triumphant smile on his lips. Proud. And you have to admit, you feel a little pride, too. The Jeongguk you met a few months ago would have never kissed a stranger in a bar.

The night rolls on without a hitch.

Danbi and Taehyung leave first. Leave together. You don't think anything will happen - you know she's playing hardball - but it's an achievement nonetheless. Also proves that there was nothing to be concerned about when it came to Jimin, who also left around the same time with a random girl none of you knew.

Yoongi ends up calling Seoyeon, gushing about how much he misses her and is in a taxi no more than five minutes later. Namjoon hops in for the ride, leaving you and Jeongguk to meander back to his place.

By the time you arrive, the paint is dry on your skin; cracking. It's uncomfortable to say the least, and earned you some questionable looks when you ran into a takeaway to pick up some chips on the way back.

You blabber gibberish together like you so often do. You're both too tipsy for your own good. Jeongguk feels like he's been chewing on a ball of cotton wool. You immediately head for his fridge to retrieve a bottle of water. Just one. You'll share.

"She was pretty," you say softly, sitting on the floor of his kitchen. Side by side, you're watching the sun rise through his windows.

Jeongguk nods. Feels like he's being tested. Doesn't know the right answer, so he goes with the truth. "Yeah."

There's silence. Neither of you really want to discuss it. You're not sure why.

He steals one of your chips. Knocks his shoulder against yours. "The boys seem to like you."

"You think?"

He nods, and says, "you should meet Seoyeon, too. Next time we all do something, I'll let you know. She's always saying how we need more women around. I think you'd get along."

You smile. Yoongi is so easygoing that you're sure Seoyeon must be just as friendly. "I'd like that."

The silence resumes. There's a heaviness. It's probably just the alcohol, and it's probably nothing serious, but Jeongguk hates it. Things with you have only ever been light. Airy. Easy. It's not that it feels difficult now, just... different. Abnormal. Strange.

"I-"

"Do-"

The jarring nature of your voices speaking over one another is unsettling. You bicker all the time. It's not unusual for you to fully disregard the words he speaks just to voice your own dumb point, and he often does just the same. There's no reason why either of you would stop talking now.

You're holding back.

So is he.

He takes another chip. Doesn't eat it. Throws it at you instead.

"You little fucker," you laugh, and so does he.

But then the silence settles again. Makes itself at home. Tucks itself into bed, says it going to stay for a little while.

"Byeol," Jeongguk eventually says, so quietly it's almost a whisper. His eyes are wise as he looks at the golden sun that rises on the horizon.

"Hmm?"

"The longer the paint sits... the harder it will be to get out of our clothes."

"Mmm," you nod. "You're probably right."

"I am," he tells you. He knows he is. It's not his first rodeo, either. "We should..."

His words are weighted so heavily that they become lodged in his throat. He's drunk, and he knows he maybe shouldn't suggest what he's about to but he can't seem to help himself.

"We still have a bird to do."

You know what he's insinuating. Your first bird. The waterpark one. The one that was totally botched because it was more important to try than it was to be faithful to words written on paper.

"Gguk..."

He's not looking at you, just at the sunrise. "It's just a shower. Just to get the paint out. It's nothing like, deep. Doesn't mean anything."

You don't say anything. Truthfully, you think now is a really good time to do it. Things are so much easier when you're drunk.

"You kissed another girl tonight," you remind him.

He nods. "Mhmm."

"Do you not think that maybe it's a bad idea? A conflict of interest?"

He shrugs. "Think about it. Why did I kiss a girl tonight?"

"Because you wanted to?"

"Because I'm trying, Byeol. We made a commitment. Made those damn birds, and said we'd do them. You told me to get her number."

"Actually," you interrupt. "The bird did."

"Exactly. I did what the bird told me to do - but only after you encouraged me to do it, too."

"The bird never told you to kiss her. And the stakes are a little higher, here, no? Showering together surely is... I don't know. More?"

More of what, you couldn't say. Your tipsy brain isn't connecting all the dots. Nor is his. You both know it's a bad idea. You both also confusingly think it's a really good idea.

"No," he says, all rather plainly. "It's no different to the waterpark - it's just that maybe this time we'll need to wash our hair."

You consider the proposal. It's tempting. It really is.

"Clothes on?" You ask.

"Yeah," he nods. "If you want."

"Y'know, for someone with a fear of rejection, you're pretty forward."

"I'm not scared of you," he laughs. "It's different."

And he really thinks it is. Thinks that it doesn't count. Thinks you're an exception, not the rule.

If you were sober, you'd tell him to fuck off.

But you're not sober.

And you're feeling a little irritated with the fact he's made progress and you haven't. Failure isn't something you enjoy, and being behind feels like failure to you.

So you stand. Kick your shoes off and pick them up. They'll need to go under the water, too. "Are you coming?"

For some reason, he's startled. Doesn't know what he was expecting. Maybe more refusal? Maybe he was looking for you to reinforce the boundaries already established by the pair of you.

But instead, you walk towards his bathroom. Start the shower up. Toss your shoes beneath the falling water, and call for him again. "Am I doing this alone, or what?"

You're standing by the basin by the time he approaches the door. He leans against the frame. Looks at you in a way you don't quite understand. You don't realise he took so long 'cause he had to sort his breathing out first - make sure he actually was still breathing.

"You go first," you whisper so quietly he almost doesn't hear you above the torrent of water cascading down onto the tiled floor.

He pauses before he reaches the water. "If you need to tap out, just say the word."

"What word?" You grin, as if anything like that has ever been discussed before.

"Oh. Shit. I dunno," he smiles back. "Um... Chicken?"

"Chicken?"

"Chicken."

"Alright. Chicken it is."

You think it's fucking ridiculous, and you're right. It is. But it gets you both laughing. Has Jeongguk holding his hand out for you and pulling you into the water with him. Eases the weight on your shoulders as he rubs some of the now wet paint from your cheeks.

"See, told you it'd be better to wash it off," he says a little triumphantly, his pretty teeth resting down on his bottom lip.

You reach up and reciprocate his kindness. "You're such a mess."

"So are you."

Well and truly stained, your shirt is peach as the water runs through it. Jeongguk holds the shower head up and lets it run over your body, but there's nothing inherently intimate about it. Nothing sexual. It's platonic in potentially the weirdest way it could be - but most importantly, it feels safe.

Again, you reciporcate. Let him take the lead. You can follow.

But then he catches you off guard.

"I'm gonna take my shirt off. There's paint underneath it I wanna get off."

The news is delivered so carefully that you almost think you're imagining it. Think that your tipsy brain has run wild - until he says, "okay?"

He waits for you to nod before he does it.

Once you do, he grips the back of his neck, and pulls the shirt over his head. It falls to the ground with a thud. The water around it runs green. Your eyes are on the trail that seeps into the drain, and not him.

"Should I?" you ask quietly. "Should I take mine off?"

Jeongguk watches you closely. His heart thumps in his chest. He swallows. Studies your eyes; how they're refusing to look at his. Makes note of your shoulders and how they're slightly more curved than usual. You're cowering. Are a shadow of yourself. It really does seem like there's a deep-rooted fear, here. He feels guilty.

"If you want," he says. His voice is gentle. Temperate. Kind. "There's nothing to be scared of, Byeol. It's just me. Just us."

And you know he's right. The stakes are so low with him that it really feels like there's nothing to lose. What's the worst that could happen?

He'd see your body. That would be it. It wouldn't matter if he liked it or not. You're not seeking his approval. You know he wouldn't tell you his thoughts either way. Wouldn't comment on your appearance like that.

When you finally grace him with your gaze, he turns around; back to you, hands up like a white flag. You take in the sight of him; shoulders broad, the dip of his spine running like a river down his back. His efforts at the gym aren't for nothing.

You start to feel bad for evaluating him. It's all complimentary, but you shouldn't be looking at him like that. Not when you've just told yourself he wouldn't do the same to you.

"Tell me something," he says, not favouring the silence.

"Mhmm?"

"Why was this on your list?"

He hears your shirt slap against the floor of his bathroom, and then the soft pat of your feet on wet tiles as you turn around, too. It's only fair if his back is also turned.

You're still in your fishnets, but you've only got a matching black underwear set on beneath them. Jeongguk's still wearing his trousers - until, pretty soon after your shirt is discarded, so are they.

Now it feels even. You're both are bare as one another.

"No reason."

Jeongguk knows you're lying. "I'll choose to believe you."

You smile. The way he speaks to you makes you want to tell him. Tell him everything. It's just stupid insecurities; nothing obscenely deep-rooted, you think. Chalk it up to a couple bad experiences. Underestimate just how severely Seokjin fucked with your head.

"It's stupid," you whine.

"I highly doubt that."

And so you relent. "It's my fault, really. I... You ever just have like a gut feeling?"

"Sometimes."

"Had one of those, once. In the shower," your sentence comes out a little staggered. A little awkward. "Was with my ex and I just... His hair had smelt like candyfloss all week. Said it was a new shampoo."

Jeongguk thinks he knows where this is going. You pause.

"Anyway, I did his hair," you continue a little flippantly. You're playing it off like it was no big deal. "He did mine. Yada yada yada, you know the rest. Realised later that evening that his shampoo was fucking mint scented. No sweetness, no nothing. So... yeah. The candyfloss scent..."

"Was someone else's shampoo?" Jeongguk guesses the end of your sentence, and is correct.

"He still denies it," you say. "I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Found myself in this god-awful cycle of insisting that we showered together - just so I knew he wasn't showering with someone else - only to end up crying halfway through it every single time. He was so fucking fed up with me by the end of it all. Told me I was fucked in the head. Said that if he did do the shit I'd accused him of, then it'd be my fault for driving him to it."

"Christ," Jeongguk hisses. He's heard some manipulative shit in his time, but that really fucking takes the biscuit.

You hum in agreement. Sound small when you say, "he smelt like candyfloss again the week before he ended things."

Jeongguk's at a loss for words. Wants to wrap you up in cotton wool. Can't believe someone would actually do that to you.

"Byeol?"

"Mhmm?"

"Your ex-boyfriend's a prick."

"Yeah," you laugh, but it's cut short. There's a stutter in your diaphragm. You let out a deep breath. Hold back the pathetic tears you know are just dying to get out of your system. "Yeah, he was. Kind of my fault, though, isn't it? I'm the one who let him lie to me. Should have known better."

The fact you blame yourself is devastating to him.

"I'm gonna turn around," he says. "And I'm gonna give you a hug, okay?"

You nod, not that he can see it. Choke an "okay" out, and within a second, Jeongguk's arms are wrapped around you. He squeezes you tight, skin warm, heat beat firm beneath his ribs. Your back is to his chest, his head resting on yours. "He's such a fucking prick. It wasn't your fault, Byeol. Wasn't your fault at all."

He's never met your ex, but he decides there's no one in the world he despises more. Doesn't like violence; would definitely consider it for him.

You shrug. "Feels like it was."

"It wasn't. You didn't deserve that."

"Shit happens."

He hates the way you deflect. Knows you'll never change, but dear lord, does he wish you'd realise that it's okay to struggle.

There's a slight shift in your body, and he knows it means you're done with the hug. Been vulnerable for too long. Wanna get back to the 'normal' version of you.

You're still covered in paint, so Jeongguk tells you as such. You apologise for being such a mess - emotionally and physically.

"S'cool. We both are, Byeol."

He leaves you to get washed up alone. Thinks you could do with a little privacy, and it means he can get his room sorted before your arrival into it.

There's a scowl on his face as he organises the pillows. Can't believe how manipulative your ex had been. How dare he make you think you were imagining things, when it was evident he'd been straying. How dare he make you feel like that.

Jeongguk's no saint. He's done his fair share of fucked up things, but never anything like that. It infuriates him. Makes him want to fucking cry - partially out of frustration, but mainly because of how badly it had affected you.

He thinks of the night before you'd made the birds, and wishes you'd have just gone out with Danbi and Hoseok instead of seeing your ex.

You take your time in the shower. Are sad to wash off the feeling of Jeongguk's embrace, but know that you have to. You'd get too consumed by it otherwise.

He leaves you a spare shirt outside the bathroom door, and tells you to come through to his room when you're ready. Jimin is still out, presumably asleep in some other girl's bed, so Jeongguk doesn't care too much for sneaking you around - not that he has to. You're just friends.

He takes the floor. Doesn't give himself half as many pillows as he gave you the last time. Still leaves his special pillows for you, though.

"Uh-uh," you shake your head as you come into his room to find him already curled up in the pillow pile. "On your bed. I'm on the floor."

He shakes his head right back, defiant. "Too sleepy to argue. Go to bed, Byeol."

You're about to fight back. About to quite physically move him up onto his bed - but the soft sound of paper against pillows distracts you.

"Shit."

Jeongguk sits up. "What is it- Oh. Shit."

You both just stare for a moment. Freeze, like you're in some kind of low-budget action movie. Look at his bed, then look at one another.

Another bird has fallen.

And as Jeongguk assesses from how bloody wonky it is, it's definitely one of yours.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

#by holly #jk #jeongguk fanfic #jungkook fanfic #Jungkook Fanfiction #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook ff #jeongguk fic #bartender!jungkook #BD #bad decisions #bangtan #bts fanfic #dappleddaisies

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alloftheimaginesblog · 1 year ago

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an old friend, a new start part ii {remus 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: you and remus rekindle your friendship.

character: remus lupin x female reader

note: 6k words

PART ONE

It was surprising how easy it was, how normal it was to be here again and be with him. Remus had always made things easy, he made people feel comfortable it's why you already knew he was a good professor. He was exactly the right kind of soft that students would respond well to.

The first thing you did was give Remus a tour of your classroom, "It's not set up yet but can you imagine the vision?" You said after giving him an in depth explanation of everything you wanted to do with it. Remus smiled at your passion. You had always had this passion for music ever since you were a teenager, always singing and playing music for the group, introducing them to your favourite bands and songs. Remus missed that; he missed your music.

"First lesson, we're delving into the different periods of music and I'm going to introduce them to the Beatles."

Remus laughed, "Remember when you first brought the Beatles into Sirius's life?" You grinned at the memory.

"What's that?" Sirius frowned, hearing the music you were playing from the turntable, "Is that music? Is this some Muggle invention?"

"It's called a record player," Remus told him, "It's (y/n)'s. Plays music."

"Is that circle thing music?"

You laughed, "Yeah, that's a record. It has music in the grooves." You stopped the music to take the disk off to show him. Sirius pawed it carefully not wanting to break it.

"Muggles are pretty magic too, you know," he said, "Play it, will you?"

You set it back up, turning the volume up for Sirius to hear it. He was silent for three songs. You and Remus made eye contact, stifling your laughter, "What's this band called?" Sirius asked eventually.

"The Beatles. Band with 4 men in it; Paul, John, George and Ringo... What do you think?"

"I think... I love it..."

And from there developed Sirius's new personality. It wasn't long before he was screaming out the lyrics to Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds as he danced around the common room.

"It became his personality for a few weeks, didn't it?" You and Remus shared a laugh, "Remember McGonagall put a silence charm on him so she could get through half a lesson without him singing I Wanna Hold Your Hand."

Remus's smile was wide, reaching his eyes making them light up, aglow with delight. You could tell that rarely happened anymore. You loved to see it. He looked five years younger when he smiled, not that he was particularly old as you were both in your early thirties but... he was tired.

It was then a clock chimed on the wall of your classroom. The two of you looked to it, "Oh, shall we head to the Great Hall?" You asked him, "Dinner will be served shortly." So the two of you walked to the Great Hall together, pointing at things on your way.

"Remember when we hid in that cupboard to watch Lily and James have their first kiss."

"That's the classroom used for the first time we all had detention together."

"Oh god, they've still never gotten rid of that god awful painting-" "Hey!" The painting yelled at you which made you give a sheepish, "Sorry" as Rem laughed behind you.

You found the Great Hall, it was indeed like riding a bike, you never really forgot how to get places and the more you explored, the more you remembered. Minerva smiled widely upon seeing you both laughing as you walked into the hall. She gestured to two seats beside Snape as the children began to funnel into the hall. It was then you noticed someone.

"Hagrid?" You beamed, "It is you!"

The giant, who had been attempting to sit on the far too small seat, straightened and looked at you, "(y/n)!" Hagrid grinned, clapping you on the shoulder, "Bloody hell, been a while, hasn' it? And Remus!"

Hagrid's giant hand took Remus's and shook it gladly as Remus smiled and said, "Hello, old friend."

"Look at you both. Are you Professors now?" You both nodded, "If only they could see the pair o' you now, eh?" He sniffed and you realised his eyes were watery and glassy looking. Hagrid was always one to get a little emotional.

You smiled sadly, patting his forearm, "Harry's just like James, isn't he?"

Hagrid nodded, looking out to find Harry in the crowd, "Love 'im," Hagrid sniffed again, pulling a large handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing at his eyes, "love 'im as though he was my own." It would be later from Harry you'd find out that Hagrid helped to look after him, always offering a friendly face and advice, always looking out for him. Hagrid had done the same for you, Remus, James, Sirius and Peter (and then Lily). Always welcomed you into his cottage for tea and to look at his newest creature. Hagrid was always there for you and you appreciated that he was always there for Harry too.

Remus patted his arm this time and the two of you moved around him to go sit down beside Snape as Dumbledore had stepped up to address the school. He gave you both a smile and a small nod of his head in greeting. Snape's frown deepened when you and Remus sat beside him which made you stifle a laugh, "Hey, Sev."

Severus scoffed.

After the sorting, Albus introduced you and Remus as the new Professors making you both stand up and give a little wave. You could see Harry, Ron and Hermione smiling as they clapped. You were excited to get to know all about James's boy. You just knew that if James were here, god he would be so proud of his son. He would be bragging to everyone he met and Lily would watch him amused. If Lily could see him, if Lily could hold him, your heart panged and you felt tears burn at your eyes. It broke your heart knowing that Harry would never know how much they both adored him. You remembered the day you first met Harry Potter.

James had answered the door, bags under his eyes but grinning widely, "He's upstairs with Lils," he told you and Remus, "Padfoot's already there." As you walked up the stairs to see the baby, you could hear Padfoot's coos and babbles to the day old baby, "He's taken to him like a mermaid to water."

You rounded the corner, turning into the nursery, and there they were. Lily's hair was tied up, she too looked exhausted but couldn't stop smiling and Sirius, bless him, Sirius was there with the biggest smile which only got wider when he saw the three of you.

"Look, Moony," Sirius beamed, "Ghost, look!" He used your Animagus name. You took form of a white wolf who was rather good at hiding and staying quiet, hence adopting the name Ghost from your peers, "He's real!"

"(y/n)," Lily said with a proud smile, "Remus, meet Harry. Harry James Potter."

"Can I?" You asked softly, reaching your arms out. Lily nodded and she helped you bundle the warm, tiny baby boy into your arms, "Oh my god," you whispered, laughing incredulously as Harry blinked up at you with big eyes. You could've stayed there all day with him in your arms, "Oh, guys," you said, eyes flooding with tears as you looked between James and Lily, "he's perfect."

You found yourself walking over to Remus, "Look at him, Rem." Remus's face softened, instantly under the young Harry's spell and you carefully handed him over to Remus. Your smile only widened as you watched Remus cradle him. Remus smiled up at you for a few seconds, a dazed silly smile on his face, before your attentions turned back to Harry.

Remus nudged you, noticing your watery eyes, "Are you alright?" He asked softly.

You nodded quickly, "Just thinking," you told him before you both dug into the feast that appeared before you.

Over the next few weeks, you settled quickly into your new role as a Professor. You, with the help of Remus after hours, had done up your classroom. Remus had painted the walls as you made a better display area for your Muggle instruments and you set up your record player and all of the records in a nice cabinet. Classes were going well, you were slowly beginning to get your class more and more interested in Muggle Music even Ron Weasley seemed to be more interested once he'd heard some of the music that Muggles made.

It was on the second week of term that Harry Potter asked you and Lupin if he could chat to the two of you about his parents. You'd both agreed and set a time and place. At three o'clock that following Tuesday, Harry knocked on your office door. Remus was already there with you.

"Come in, Harry," Remus smiled warmly. God, his voice was like honey, sweet and warm.

You poured some tea for the three of you and laid out some biscuits. Harry chewed on a biscuit with a slight frown, "Where do you want to start?" You asked him, "Do you have any questions-"

"How did you meet my parents? Sorry, I- I have a lot of questions." His cheeks tinged pink and you shook your head with a smile.

"We have all the time in the world, Harry, don't worry. Any questions you have, we'll answer." You glanced over at Remus who nodded and you began to tell the story of how you first met his parents.

The train was already packed full of Hogwarts students. You nervously checked in each train compartment and got a lot of blank looks from students who looked much older than you. You searched for what felt like forever until you came across a carriage with a nervous looking young boy in it.

"Hi," you said with a nervous smile as you opened the door, "Are you a first year too?" He nodded, "Can I sit with you? All the other carriages are full and I-" his nod cut your babble off."

"As you can tell by Professor (y/l/n)'s first impression of me, I was a rather shy, isolated young boy," Remus said, cutting into your conversation, "it was your dad who brought me out of my shell."

Harry smiled.

You were sitting in silence, the boy didn't want to talk at all so you stayed quiet. After a few minutes, the door slid open and a boy with long dark hair strode in with a boy with circle glasses, "I'm Sirius," he said with a curt nod, "you first years too yeah?"

You nodded as you introduced yourself. Sirius glanced at the quiet boy who sat in the corner, "What's your name?" He asked. The boy ducked his head, "What? Cat got your tongue?"

"Sirius," the boy with circle glasses scolded. They'd only just met and yet they acted like they'd been friends for years, "Sorry about him. I'm James. James Potter." James stuck his hand out to the quiet boy who eyed him for a minute before straightening and accepting his handshake.

"Remus," he said, "Remus Lupin."

James grinned and Sirius quickly moved on, "What house are you all hoping to be in?"

You shrugged, "I'm Muggleborn so I don't really know anything about Hogwarts or magic or anything like that."

Sirius ran through the four houses giving a quick breakdown of them all, "Slytherin's got the reputation for being full of evil witches and wizards... Speaking of, my whole family have been in Slytherin."

"Blimey," said James, "and I thought you seemed all right!" You and Remus laughed at what James had said.

Sirius grinned, "Maybe I'll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?"

James lifted an invisible sword, "Gryffindor," he said loudly, "where dwell the brave at heart! Like my dad."

Harry's face stretched into an amazed grin, "So my grandfather was a Gryffindor too?"

Remus smiled, "From then, we were inseparable. I met another boy in a class of mine, Peter, and he joined us."

You told Harry of meeting his mother after you were sorted into Gryffindor, "She was always so kind," you told him, "to everyone... except your father at first." Remus laughed, "James immediately fancied Lily and we had to put with him trying to get her attention for years."

"Did she not like him at first then?" The thought made Harry laugh, "What did she do?"

Remus spoke up, "He would always try and impress her, shout to her in public or in class. He was always very brave, your father. Lily would usually roll her eyes and shoot back from sarcastic comment to him."

"He always made us sit close to her and her group of friends at dinner and breakfast," you told him, "and she always liked us, she liked me and Rem, Peter, she even liked Sirius and sometimes Sirius could be hard to swallow but it took a long time for her to warm up to James."

"When was it they got together?" Harry asked curiously.

"Seventh year," Remus said, "your dad had quite a big ego, I'm sorry to say, but in his seventh year he really sorted himself out."

"Became Head Boy," you smiled, "I still think he was doing it to prove his worth to Lily-"

"And it worked?" Harry grinned.

Remus laughed, "Oh it worked. When Lily saw that he had matured, even just slightly, she fell for him. She was Head Girl too so had to spend quite a bit of time with him and it wasn't long before we watched them share their first kiss."

Harry laughed, "What were they like together?"

Your smile was wide as you remembered, "It was like they'd been together forever. They laughed a lot and always had so much fun. Lily was always keeping him in line. And god, once the two of them started dating, they were always kissing much to Sev's displeasure."

Harry frowned and you realised you might have said too much, "Sev? As in Severus? Severus Snape?"

"Unfortunately," Remus nodded, "your father and him didn't get on well at all."

"No wonder," Harry scoffed, "but what did you mean 'much to Sev's displeasure'?"

"Your mother had been friends with Severus, even before Hogwarts, they lived close by and they were friendly." You laughed at Harry yelling 'what?!', "Yes. There was a sort of rivalry with your dad and Snape. He liked your mum-"

"Tell me she didn't go out with him."

Remus chuckled, "No, no, she was his friend until he said some rather unpleasant things to her about her blood type." Harry knew the slur, Malfoy had called Hermione it before, "She wasn't friends with him after that. He never apologised and she turned her back on him but he always had a soft spot for her."

"Maybe that's why Snape hates me," Harry said with a frown, "he's always acted as though I'm the worst student in the world... He hated my dad and was jealous of him."

You shrugged, "Maybe yeah but Sev just hates everyone, Harry... Oh, I have a photo album!" You remembered and you hurried to your office and your adjoined room to dig through your books to find the brown leather book.

When you brought it back through, Harry was excited. He looked through the pictures, soaking each one in. You pointed out you, Remus, Peter and Sirius. He didn't need help pointing out his dad and mum.

"I really do look like him, don't I?" He laughed, "People tell me but he's around my age and... wow. And my mum! Her eyes!"

Tears filled your eyes and Remus's hand stretched across the table to take yours. You looked at Rem with a watery eyed smile which he returned, "Oh, I'm being silly," you said as Harry asked if you were okay, "I haven't seen these photos in years."

Harry looked at a picture of you and Remus where you were laughing together and then he looked at your joined hands, "Professors, this might be too invasive but... are you two together?"

Your eyes widened and heart skipped a beat and Remus's hand suddenly left yours. Remus answered with a laugh and a shake of his head, "Just friends, Harry, just friends." His answer left you feeling a little crestfallen. Were your old feelings for Remus beginning to stir again?

Harry shrugged before returning to the pictures. Your mind whirred. You'd seen the picture of you and Remus as you laughed, not knowing that Sirius had taken the picture until afterwards. You were both so happy, you'd always been so happy with Remus. James had tried to make you tell him but you were so scared that you'd ruin the friendship so it was your second best kept secret, first being Remus's furry friend.

"What were their laughs like?" Harry's question snapped you out of your trance.

You heart panged at his question, "Lily's was very musical," you said with a smile, "happy. But when she was with your dad, he made her belly laugh like no other. Her laughter was loud with him, she'd even snort during it sometimes."

Remus's eyes were glazed over as he remembered James's, "James laughed and you knew you were in for something, usually trouble but he had a laugh that would make you laugh as well no matter the trouble that he was about to get you in."

You looked outside realising that darkness had fallen, "Merlin's beard, look at the time! Dinner will be starting in fifteen minutes, we better go."

Harry looked disappointed, "Fret not, Harry," Remus said clapping his shoulder gently, "we'll happily answer any more questions you have or tell you stories or whatever later, okay?" Harry nodded, thanking you both before Remus sent him on his way.

You exhaled a long breath, "He's so like them both isn't he? Sweet like Lily with a hint of James's confidence."

Remus smiled warmly and agreed before telling you that he was going for dinner, "You coming?"

You nodded, "Yeah, I'll put this away then I'll come." Remus told you that he'd wait. You took your photo album and moved to your office. With a breath, you opened the book to look at the photo of you and Remus again. You looked at the way Remus smiled at you, eyes happy. Did you love him?

Remus called on you, "Are you alright?"

Clearing your throat, you closed the photo album, put it down before going back out to meet him forcing a smile.

The following week was Remus's time of the month. Severus begrudgingly was in charge of making the Wolfsbane for him to drink each day of the week before the full moon. He had asked you to cover a couple of his classes. The week leading up to his transformation was always taxing on poor Remus. He grew sick and lethargic. He managed to do his Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday classes but for the rest of the week, he couldn't manage to get out of his bed. Severus had taken his Thursday classes and you were covering Friday classes. You would bring Remus breakfast and dinner each day, he would hardly eat it but you brought it regardless.

The week passed slowly, you were finding that you missed his presence more and more, craving his conversations and his smiles. Once Friday was gone, he would be fine again. You just had to make it Friday.

On Monday, Harry, Hermione and Ron stayed back after Muggle Music to ask what was wrong with Professor Lupin, "Just a bug," you said with a dismissive shake of your head, "Harry, I'm afraid we'll have to wait until he's back on his feet before we have another little chat, alright?" Harry nodded, fine with that.

On Tuesday, you introduced your class to The Beatles. The different reactions were pretty funny. A few, like Hermione, were already aware but for those like Ron, his jaw dropped and he made you turn it up, "And they're Muggles?!" He said incredulously, "Bloody hell, they're alright aren't they?"

On Wednesday, you met with Minerva in her office for some tea, "How is Remus, dear?" She asked.

"Suffering," you said with a grimace, "not eating much but that's not unusual for the week before. It's usually the week afterwards that he really gorges on food. The potion that Severus is making is good, it means he'll keep his mind for his transformation."

Minerva pursed her lips, "Will you go and visit him when he's transformed?" She eyed you curiously, "As your wolf self?"

Your jaw dropped, "You know?!"

She sipped at her tea with a twinkle in her eyes, "Oh my dear, an Animagus always knows another. Just like I knew Mr Potter, Mr Black and Mr Pettigrew were all the same."

Your hand covered your mouth as your cheeks burned, "Oh my god, I can't believe you knew all this time! We thought we were so sly and- you knew the whole time?"

Minerva gave a comical roll of the eyes, "It really wasn't so hard to notice especially when James had the Mandrake leaf in his mouth for a month. The boy's face was permanently disgusted and I knew that feeling all too well."

"Does Dumbledore know?"

Minerva nodded.

"Why did you never stop us? Send us to Azkaban?"

The much older Professor sighed, "Because once I realised what you were all doing, I went to Dumbledore immediately. Of course I knew about Remus and his condition but it was Dumbledore who realised what you were all up to. You were transforming to make his transformation easier for him, keeping him in line and making sure he knew he had friends there looking out for him." She smiled, "Dumbledore would never send any of you to Azkaban for merely looking out for your friend. He was rather proud of you all though he would never dare tell Mr Potter, the size of his ego back then was already huge, could you imagine?"

You laughed loudly, "Oh yeah, James would've never shut up about that if he knew... I can't believe you both knew this whole time. Well, thank you... I probably will go and see him during his transformation, it always helped and even though he keeps his mind I think he might quite like a reminder of a friend. He's a lonely man."

McGonagall eyed you before speaking, "I don't know if you'll remember but I do. In your third year, I was teaching you all about Animagus's after Sirius had queried it. I told you that your Animagus form takes a lot of inspiration from who you are as a person and those you love dearly. Remus is a werewolf, you are a wolf, are you not?" You nodded, "What do you think that means?"

You swallowed feeling rather small in the red armchair that you were sat in, "I... I don't know what you mean." You couldn't hold her gaze. She pursed her lips and stayed silent waiting for you to come to the conclusion yourself. You already knew the answer. You loved him, "I think we both know, Minerva."

She smiled knowingly, "Yes, I suppose we do, don't we? Forgive me for prying, why did the two of you lose contact?"

"It was all too painful," you said with a frown, "After losing James and Lily, losing Peter and having Sirius to blame, it felt awful seeing Remus with that constant reminder hanging over us. We went from seeing each other every day to every other day to once a week... once a month... once every six months to nothing... It's been good getting back here and seeing him again. It's like things never changed between us. A coincidence but a great one."

Minerva placed her teacup down, "My dear, I believe in no such thing as coincidence. I think it was fate."

On Friday, you were taking Remus's morning and afternoon class. He had written down his plans for the week so you were merely following that though when you started, Hermione's hand shot straight up into the air.

"Professor (y/l/n)?" She asked with a curious expression, "With Professor Snape yesterday we were covering werewolves instead of this."

Your heart skipped a beat as you tried your hardest to keep your face neutral, "Oh really?" You shrugged, "He must've read Professor Lupin's plans for the week wrong." You could tell that Hermione wasn't buying it but you carried on, trying not to let it show that what she'd said had rattled you. Was Severus trying to expose Remus's condition to the class? You managed to get through the rest of the afternoon lesson and as soon as you had dismissed the class, you were storming your way to the Potions classroom.

Professor Snape was teaching his first years but you didn't care. You had to speak to him then and there. You knocked loudly on the door and gave a sickly sweet smile, "Professor Snape, can I speak to you privately outside? Won't be a minute."

Snape frowned and told his class to continue reading. He followed you outside, closing the door behind him. You strode across the hall, throwing his office door open and storming inside, "Oh please do come into my office," Snape muttered sarcastically.

Once he'd shut the door you'd rounded on him, "What the bloody hell are you playing at?!"

He raised his eyebrows, "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, bored.

"Teaching them about werewolves? Remus had left his lesson plan for the week on the table and-" you pointed to Snape's desk, "he left you one here. No mention of werewolves, eh, Sev?"

Severus rolled his eyes, "Must have been my mistake," he drawled.

"Bullshit!" You hissed, "You're trying to get him exposed, aren't you? You want him out."

"And what if I do?!" Snape snapped suddenly, "A school is no place for a monster."

"And yet they let you come back?!" You fake gasped, "You've never changed, Snape. Still a rotten, twisted bully."

This angered him, "Me?!" He spluttered, "A bully?! Your beloved friends James and Sirius were the bullies-"

"James never called her a Mudblood though, did he?" Your final blow rendered Severus speechless, "Never treated her like shit, did he? You did and you have to live with the reality that she never loved you - she loved him." You were breathing hard, knowing that you'd overstepped many lines here but you were past caring. Severus's lips were pressed tightly together in a straight line.

With one last glare, you began to leave his office when Severus said quietly, "He won't dare be with you, you know... He's a coward, he'll push you away. Doesn't matter if he does love you or not. He'll never admit to it. He'd rather be alone than be with you." You ignored him and slammed the door behind you but as you hurriedly rushed back to your office, you found tears burning at your eyes... He knew that Severus Snape was telling the truth.

When night fell, you went to Remus's classroom. He had made his way out of his room and was currently taking his last of the Wolfsbane Potion, "What you doing here?" He asked wincing at the foul taste.

"When was the last time your transformed with another furry friend?"

He blinked, surprised at your response, "You're going to stay with me?"

"Yeah. I'll transform once yours starts and I'll stay with you. You always did say it helped you."

"I have the potions now, they let me keep my mind so I'll be myself in my mind. You don't have to-"

"I know," your voice was soft like silk, "but I want to." Remus breathed in deeply, finding that his heart felt rather full.

You helped him lock the door with various protection spells. Neither of you spoke much, you knew how drained he was so instead you just kept him company until the moon began to shine through the windows. You could remember the first time you saw Remus transform and unlike James, who'd been rather disturbed by the cracking bones and elongated limbs, you were fascinated. You watched as he transformed, claws growing, fangs protruding, tufts of hair sprouting all over his face and body as his clothes tore and ripped off.

You closed your eyes, focusing, and then you yourself transformed into your Animagus form. You took the form of your white wolf and waited for Remus to fully transform. When he did, he looked around, golden eyes meeting yours and he gave a low growl. You stayed, unmoving, as you waited for Remus to take over control. He crouched low, growl growing louder. He blinked, gave a shake of his head and his body relaxed. You padded over to him as he lay down, pulling a blanket from his desk and covering him. When in his normal mind, he would sleep and wait for the night to be over. You curled next to him, fluffy head resting on his werewolf's arm, tickling at his neck. There you both remained until day broke.

You woke up early, feeling him transform back to human under your head. You transformed back, pulling the blanket over him. He stirred at the touch. Neither of you spoke but once Remus was fully awake, he realised that he was naked beneath the blanket, "Shut your eyes, will you?" He asked groggily.

You complied and you could hear him get up and go into his office. He called that you could open them so you did, stretching out your muscles. He appeared a few minutes later dressed in brown slacks and a grey button down shirt, the top two buttons left undone. He sat down beside you again, "Thank you for staying with me last night."

You gave him a small, sad smile as you scooted closer, wiping his hair from his face. He was so exhausted, so worn-out... Your heart panged for him, "You look so tired, Rem," your voice was but a whisper, "so tired."

Remus breathed in deeply, overcome with emotion. He loved you. He knew that, he always had and with you being back in Hogwarts and back in his life well that just proved it, didn't it? Where you had touched left his face feeling hot. He swallowed. This was it. This was the moment. The moment to push you away or let you in. God, Remus wanted to let you in, he wanted to kiss you, wanted to hold you, wanted to finally feel you. After all this time and he was still like putty in his hands, ready to do anything you asked of him... But there was something inside him, a dark mass that stretched out poisoning his mind with the darkness. You were his friend, that was all. There was no way that you could love him back. You were out of his league, you pitied him. And then all of a sudden his face changed, contorting to one of anger and he pulled back sharply.

"What are you doing?" He snapped, voice cold and angry, "We're not children anymore."

You were confused. You'd been hoping that he would've kissed you, would've told you how he felt but you never expected this, "Remus, what are you doing?"

He stood with a scoff. You didn't know why he was so angry, what had you done? "I let myself get carried away with you like I'm sixteen again running around with you but I'm not, you're not. We're adults. We're hardly friends now, we've not been in each other's lives for a decade! We're practically strangers." The way he yelled it, voice full of venom and disgust... It was like he was cutting the tie of his one last true relationship and for what reason?

"We are friends, Rem," you said, standing to meet him dominant stance, "You don't have to push me away. You promised I'd be the one you never pushed away!"

"You're not a teenager anymore, (y/n), it's time to stop acting like it." He had turned away from you, uncaring, "So I made a promise I didn't intend to keep, I'm sure you've done the same at one point or another."

"Why are you doing this?" You asked, eyes flooding with tears, "Why are you pushing me away?" You didn't know how to make him stay, you didn't know how to bring him back to you. Could you bring him back? "Remus, please don't do this. I-I care about you, a lot. I..." You took a deep breath, "I- I love you." Your heart hammered as you watched him still. He was still facing away from you and Remus thanked the gods for you couldn't see his teary eyes and pained expression, "I know that you love me... I know you do! Just- Just say it and it'll all be okay, Rem. Just... Just tell me that you love me." There was a pregnant pause. Remus's jaw clenched. He had to push you away, he couldn't risk letting you get hurt, "I'm not scared of you, Remus- I know that you won't hurt me. I-I trust you."

He shook his head as he swallowed hard, "I think you should leave, (y/n). We both have work to do."

You wanted to fight, you wanted to whirl him round, slap him across the face and kiss him to get the message across but your shoulders sagged as all fight drained from your body. He stayed unmoving and facing the opposite way, "I- I've always loved you. Remember when it was my fifteenth birthday and you gave me a first edition copy of my favourite Muggle book? That's when I knew. I knew how much it would've cost you and I- I knew I loved you then."

He stayed still.

"I knew you loved me when we were seventeen. It was after Sirius convinced us all to have one too many shots of Firewhisky and we went out to the Quidditch Pitch and were stupidly riding on brooms. I rode mine straight into one of the goalposts, lost my balance and fell right off of it to the ground. You were so worried about me, you ran to me with the most concerned look on your face, you wouldn't settle until you knew I was okay even though it was just a broken wrist. You were so worried. You stayed with me that night when I was in the hospital. I knew you loved me that night."

Remus took a breath, "I asked you to leave, (y/n)." His voice was tense, "We are colleagues. Nothing more."

You were crying, tears making their way down your cheeks, "You really are a coward," you murmured quietly but you knew he heard you. You left his classroom, slamming the door behind him. Goddamn Snape was right.

Remus managed to get back to his desk chair and sank into it, head in his hands, "What did I do?" Remus's mind wandered to when the two of you first met Harry for the first time, thinking about one of the many moments he was filled with some sort of hope that you could love him back.

Remus couldn't stop smiling as he watched you cradle the tiny baby, baby Harry James Potter, speaking in hushed songs and excited whispers. You looked delighted and seemed like a natural at this. James nudged Remus, breaking him out of his thoughts, "You could have that with her, you know," he murmured softly.

Remus was affronted. Eyebrows raised and arms crossed, he glowered at James, "I- I-" he was like a fish out of water, "Don't be so stupid, Prongs."

James rolled his eyes, "Come off it, Moony," he scoffed, "you love her and she loves you. She always has."

"She does not," Remus hissed. He had often stayed up late, hoping and dreaming that would be true but he knew that it couldn't. He was a monster, how could you ever love that?

"You need proof?" James asked, raising his eyebrows, "You're a werewolf... Her patronus and her Animagus is a wolf. McGonagall told us in third year that your patronus and Animagus take form from who you are and can be persuaded by those you love most. You're a werewolf, she's a wolf. She loves you, you big oaf."

That couldn't be true, could it? Remus watched you with a curious expression. You couldn't love him, could you? How on earth could you love a monster?

And now, over a decade later, you'd finally admitted it to him and Remus had done what he does best; pushed you away because he was scared. He was a coward, "God help me, Prongs," he muttered, head in his hands. He knew that if James were here he would've given him a good rollicking for his reaction to that. He was a coward and that's all he'd ever be. As Remus tossed and turned that night, one sentence that James had said echoed around his head.

"You need to tell her that you love her before it's too late."

tag list: @foodpills @fairyy27 @queen-of-disaster-222 @moon-witchs-world @poppysavage11 @wildtigerlili @lupinandtonks @eury-dice3 @qweengigi @magical-spit @jennifer0305

#one shot #old friend #os #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #imagine #remus lupin #marauders #harry potter #prisoner of azkaban #reader insert #remus x you #remus x reader #remus lupin x you

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cyberpunkgyu · 1 year ago

Text

20cm - C.BG

pairing: bestfriend beomgyu x reader

genre: fluff, idiots to lovers

warnings: none!

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

“must be nice to be in a relationship.” you muttered under your breath, your palm holding your head as you scanned your surroundings, watching couples chatting among themselves at the park. you both were under a big tree, luckily being able to take the spot before anyone else, wanting to stay at a shady spot. you both were already sweaty from all the walking you both did, needing to cool down from that.

the long haired boy snorted next to you as he slurped on his instant noodles that you both got from a nearby convenient store, along with other food that was spread out over your plaid blanket that beomgyu brought. “not really.” he mumbled as he chewed on his noodles before grabbing a boneless fried chicken with his chopsticks, holding it up near your lips.

you raised your eyebrows before opening your mouth, chewing on the chicken. you stared at beomgyu, who is busy eating as if he hasn’t eaten in a week, tilting your head at his response. “and why is that? don’t you want to feel butterflies in your stomach? go on dates with your special someone…” you kept rambling, feeling jealous of those couples that surrounded the both of you.

yes, you did like being single, but you also want to feel having someone there for you. giving you kisses and hugs anytime and anywhere. being able to go on dates and hold hands. you definitely want to feel those butterflies in your stomach that you hear about (and by watching romantic dramas).

you’ve never had a boyfriend, and you’re not surprised why, you don’t really socialize with new people and often just hangs out with people in your small circle of friends.

beomgyu felt his heart flutter as he admires you, listening to every word you say. he just wish he could kiss you right there, as you pouted. he knows he is selfish, not wanting to you to be in a relationship. he just wants to keep you to himself, protect and take care of you.

he always flirts with you, which you were already used to. that was normal for him to do. complimenting your appearance, hyping you up whenever you did good on your tests, picking you up before school and dropping you off at home, and the list goes on.

well, why doesn’t he just confess? because he didn’t want to risk anything. he was scared.

you two had been best friends since forever, and confessing can put all those yours of friendship into nothing, and he didn’t want that. he would rather suffer, which he has experienced throughout the years, which happens whenever you tell him about your crushes, watching you giggling and blushing over them.

“well, you have me.” he blurted out, making your cheeks heat up at the sudden comment. you felt yourself swallow, causing a crumb slide down your throat, making you cough harshly.

beomgyu quickly placed his ramen on the blanket, his eyes widening, “yah, this is why you need to chew slowly.” he scolded, grabbing your water flask, holding it up for you. grabbing it, you gulped down, your throat slightly burning from the stupid crumb that slid down.

“are you okay?” you watched him lean forward, closer to you, his face full of concern. “how could you say that so easily…” you muttered under your breath, clearing your throat.

both of you got quiet for a minute, staring at each other, which is definitely not something friends usually do. the way beomgyu looks at you so softly, and he looked so precious.

his eyes shifted from your eyes down to your lips, then back up to your eyes again. you felt your heart skip a beat as you noticed, licking your bottom lip.

“i want to kiss you.” you felt yourself stop breathing for a second as the boy in front of you blurted out. uhh.. what? did you hear that correctly?

“aha, fuck, i didn’t mean to say that out loud.” you can see the panic in his eyes, covering it with a nervous laugh. beomgyu suddenly felt his throat dry up, surprised at what he just said out loud. fucking motor mouth. you really can’t shut up huh?

you cheeks heats up at his sudden confession, hearing your heartbeat through your ears.

“then kiss me.” you confidently said, feeling yourself lean closer towards the boy. his eyes widened even more before a smile slowly creeped up, feeling himself leaning forward.

as you closed your eyes, you waited for the boy to kiss you but seconds turned into a minute, leaving you confused. slowly opening your eyes, you see beomgyu who’s eyes were closed, being licked by a random dog -that came out of no where- on his mouth.

you stifle a laugh, covering your mouth as you watch the boy furrowing his eyebrows, feeling uncomfortable of how much tongue he thought you were using.

“oh my gosh, i apologize! coco come!” the owner of the dog startled beomgyu, shocked consumed his body, watching the dog run back to its owner.

laughing loudly, you held your stomach, not being able to control your laughter. “oh my gosh! your face! how come you didn’t realize!”

“ah, gross! i don’t know!” he whines, grabbing some tissues, rubbing it onto his lips. “why the hell didn’t you say anything!” his lips pouting as he whined, now crossing his arms.

you kept laughing, making your stomach hurt. beomgyu’s pout then turned into a mischievous smile after a thought popped in his head of his, slowly scooting towards you, making you halt. “what is it?”

you soon figured out what the boy was about to do when he puckered his lips towards you, making you squeal. “nooo!” you let out a screech, stumbling as you stood up and began running away from the beomgyu.

“yah! come here!” you hear him running behind you, both of you, “you told me i can kiss you!”

“i take it back!” the both of you kept running around, making the two old couple sitting by the bench from a distance smile at one another. “oh, young love.”

the old man held his wife’s hand in his, a cute smile on his face. “that was just like us when we were young.”

“mmh. i hope they’ll stay together for a long time, they look so cute.”

#beomgyu fluff #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu drabbles #tomorrow x together #txt #txt scenarios #txt imagines #Spotify

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alpacinosgf · 26 days ago

Note

do you think we could possibly get a sneak peak of Alfredo and his character in the next Milk & Roses chapter? if you you want to keep it a secret i completely understand 🤗 no worries 💋

WELL...................seeing as you asked so nicely....

People are reflections of their closest friends. Whether they like it or not. The murky social connections to one another let you know them better than you ever would through sober conversation or late-night ramblings. But it’s hard to define the nature of true friendships with Oz, a million and one people you’ve met in passing in the club or out for dinner in the city would proudly call him friend in a pinch – but never with sincerity. You’ve seen how they all look at him while he’s too preoccupied, with faux grins and sneers as soon as his back is turned.

Oz is the ever-gracious host, warming up even the coldest Gotham officials who get dragged along to the Lounge on the weekends and is always friendly with the girls he employs. A surrogate father for many if not all of them after they started working. But still, you can’t say you’ve ever met a true friend of his. One who has known him for decades, through thick and thin like so many of us take for granted. Just normal friends.

Until Alfredo.

The following night after your joined foray into bondage, Oz had brought you to a dining staple of Gotham’s high class. Not that there’s much left, most had scuttled off to Metropolis and elsewhere thanks to talk in the news about a serial killer hellbent on exposing the worst side of the city for all to see. They don’t need that kind of publicity in their line of work, but it never phases Oz. He’s by no means the worst of them. Still, it’s enough to make you a little nervous – enough to put a news alert on your phone for stories linked to this new vigilante.

The phone pings in your bag a third time when he finally says something. The aggressive tone of the device is almost embarrassing with the small string quartet at the top of the ballroom.

“You gotta stop with that, honey” he sighs, letting his thumb collect the sauce from the corner of his scarred lips. The sharp exhale isn’t from annoyance, but from the fact it’s taking away from the romantic atmosphere. You take the inside of your cheek between your teeth and give a nod of acknowledgment, flashing your eyes at him in apology. Knowing full well it’ll make his old heart stutter and falter in its timed beats. The lighting is dimmed for added effect, letting every table feel a little more secluded and intimate so when you think you see his pupils dilate a fraction you can’t confirm it. It could be just wishful thinking on your part.

He begins to tell you some more about the new kitchen porter in the club, a kid named Jordan that he’s taken a real shine to. It’s sweet, but you don’t harp on about it too much – letting Oz fulfil some estranged feelings of surrogate fatherhood he hasn’t experienced in his messy life.

You’ve never really thought about having kids before, but you can’t deny that seeing him so protective of his staff makes your stomach flip in the best of ways. He’s rattling off whatever fuck-up the Jordan kid made in the kitchen with a laugh, gold teeth on show when you see a crowd coming through the doorway behind him. A number of staff clamouring over an individual trying to be inconspicuous and nonchalant in their presence.

A taller, well-dressed man in a grey three-piece – the second you see him you know he must run in Oz’s circle. His accessories and even his stance is that of a casual luxury with wide shoulders pushed back. He could dine anywhere and be welcomed with the same reception of fawning and exaggerated grinning. You’ve completely tuned out Oz at this point, as bad as it feels to say – but he doesn’t notice in his effort to scoop the remains of his starter onto his fork with his middle finger.

The stranger, as if on cue from an outside force - glances your way and your eyes drop back to your own plate in embarrassment, several poor attempts to look preoccupied with the crumbs being left haphazardly across the ceramic. The fractional relief from avoiding awkward eye contact with the stranger is shattered within the next few seconds, and you get a fright so visceral your fork screeches with a harsh ringing across the next few tables. The same man from before has a wide hand around the back of Oz’s neck, the suit and shirt dishevelled from the force.

“In bocca al lupo!” he grins wildly, whitened teeth pulled back from a greying, well-kept beard next to Oz’s scarred cheek – who seems to have only just narrowly avoided a cardiac event. The entire room is looking, and a pregnant pause hovers around your table until he manages to respond in a shocked wheeze with a familial clap of his hand to the cheek of the man behind him.

“Crepe il lupo!”

The obvious bond between the two men before you, manages to settle the onlookers that roll their eyes and resume their pedestrian conversations around the room – but the same cannot be said for yourself who remains seated awkwardly glancing between the pair.

Oz is finally released from the stranger’s grip, and is instead getting his shoulders smoothed out of any wrinkles or ruffles made to the fabric before he can stand from the table. It’s not exactly a graceful rise, but for him it’s relatively elegant. Immediately they embrace, Oz is almost dwarfed in comparison to the other man – he’s never looked small to you before that it’s almost jarring to see him that way. His personality and demeanour always act as a buffer to the ‘real’ Oz.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here?” He asks incredulously – the words come out in an excited slur with no attempt to enunciate or calm himself.

“It’s the only good place I know in this dump!” The stranger replies, with a flair of his hand – a weighted gold watch peeking out of his sleeve.

Another beat, and suddenly Oz is back to his senses and faces you. Gesturing his hand between yourself and the stranger with introductions. Your new friend, Alfredo takes your hand and plants a tender kiss to your knuckles – do all wise guys do this? The stark difference from when Oz first did the same that night in the club and Alfredo now is in the presence of his tickling beard hairs. All salt and pepper but suits him well. His hair is neat, tucked back behind his ears with a couple grey strands clustered at his temple.

The last time someone had done this was Carmine, and you still shuddered at how slimy he was that night. This was worlds away, straight out of a film noir. When Alfredo smiles, there are no gold teeth to dazzle you this time but your heart does skip a little at his warm gaze.

#anonymous #asks

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mazeinthemiroh · 2 years ago

Note

Hello, I love your writing! I saw your SKZ as ex bfs, I was wondering if you'd do an Ateez as ex bfs?

ateez as ex boyfriends

genre: headcanon; angst, hurt

word count: 1.5k

warnings: angstyyyy, hongjoong's one hurts the most imo but they're all pretty heartbreaking so have fun ig 🫠

hongjoong

the bitter one

he's not toxic in any way, but he just feels a lot of resentment about the whole situation

why be in a relationship for so long if it was just bound to fail?

he would feel like he has wasted precious time. but, most importantly, he would feel like it would be his fault

where did he go wrong? could he have somehow managed to salvage this relationship? be more attentive, perhaps?

there are so many questions that swirl around in his head. they distract him from his work for a while, which makes him more exasperated because now he's wasting more time and energy thinking about something he can't even change!

he can't help be feel emotionally frustrated

has cried multiple times in the studio when he's by himself, mainly because you used to accompany him late at night when everyone had gone. now he's by himself...

and if he finds out his ex has started dating someone else, he thinks he's officially hit rock bottom

seonghwa

the wistful one

seonghwa has the tendency to reflect and reminisce on the good times

and in this case, he ends up hurting his own feelings a lot more

because focusing on the past makes you less appreciative of the present and what he has now

but it's hard to focus on the present when the past was... so good

his brain is constantly filled with all the good times he had with you. every date you went on, every present you got him; when you smiled every time he complimented you; the way you laughed at his dorky jokes; the way you indulged all his hobbies and interest, watching his favourite movies and even building legos with him.

and now you're not in his life at all. so how, just how could he possibly focus on the present when everything that happened once before was like pure magic

he's in an impossible situation, and all he feels like doing is crying whilst thinking of you

there is a massive gap in his heart where you should be

yunho

the one who jokes around

so i feel like this will solely depend on what type of breakup you guys have had

if it's a seriously bad breakup involving arguments, crying and overall angst, he's not going to joke around about it. he will most likely be quite sensitive about it actually, and not want anyone to mention it

but if it's a mutual breakup, or you guys have just found that your difference has brought you apart and it's best to go your separate ways, something like that, then he will cope with the breakup much better

he's not one to be negative. he thinks, in this situation: if it's not meant to be, then it's not meant to be! no good being sad all the time when you could move on and try to think of the positives

will make jokes about the breakup or different aspects of the relationship - not to shun or disrespect you in any way, just to make light of it

if you're still in his friendship circle, he will definitely do this in front of you, in hopes you would join in and make fun of how you both used to be

it's one of his ways of coping and if you can join in with his jokes, then it's much, much easier for him

yeosang

the self-contained one

he keeps to himself about the matter

none of the members seems to know how he feels after the break-up - not even wooyoung, who continuously shows concern and wants him to confide in him!

but yeosang stays quiet. he just wants to forget about the whole ordeal and feels that talking about it will make it worse

which of course makes the others worry about him more so it kind of works at his disadvantage anyway

the members look out for him regardless of his choice, keeping a close eye on him to see if he's okay

but he doesn't act anything out of the ordinary. on the contrary, he is quite his normal self

however, he seeks to be alone. and when he is alone, he tends to get lost in his thoughts... which almost always makes him cry because all his thoughts go back to you

it's a vicious circle and he knows deep down he should talk to someone about his feelings

and he eventually does, most likely going to wooyoung or seonghwa, because he trusts their advice and knows he can vent to them safely, without any judgement

san

the one that doesn't give up

in the early parts of the breakup, san was, understandably, an emotional mess

his heart was hurting tremendously because of the thought of not being with you, and losing the special relationship you guys had. it ruins him. its something he wouldn't even dare to imagine - and now it's his reality

he really doesn't know what to do with himself

weeks would elapse with san slowly trying to heal himself of this heartbreak

but then, as he's staring at his reflection in the mirror - the bloodshot eyes filled with tears once again - his eyebrows arch downwards. this isn't what he wants. no. this wasn't going to happen. not if he had anything to say about it

he was going to try and win you back

if this meant putting on a grand gesture, gatsby style, in order to get your attention? he'll do it. if this meant making you jealous by pretending to be interested in someone else? he'll do it. he'll fight all that he can if he has to

if you knew anything about san, it is that he is very determined. very stubborn. he is not one to give up. not without a fight

mingi

the hoarder

well...

mingi is gonna be sad for a long time, let me tell you that.

and he doesn't admit it but it's plain as day

he can keep denying it to his friends, his family, the other members, etc... but it's so obvious that he is hurting inside and he's really fooling no one

and if it wasn't the glazed look in his eyes that gave him away, it was his hoarding of your stuff

the necklace you left in his room now permanently sits around his neck, the pretty metal falling close to his heart, where you still were

your hoodie he would wrap around himself as if it were you around him

and even sleep with it, the smell a comforting reminder of being once loved by you, even if that was not the case anymore

he knows it's not healthy to not let go, but how could he?

it was too soon for him, way too soon

so for now, he will indulge in these comforts for as long as he has to. he doesn't care how long it takes for him to get over you.

wooyoung

the one in denial

he refuses to admit that he misses you

hell, sometimes he refuses to admit he even loved or cared about you. which of course, is the biggest lie he's ever told

on the outside, it seemed that wooyoung had moved on quickly. perhaps too quickly, some would say...

because of this, the members would check up on him more often after the breakup, but he always shrugged them off.

"i'm fine" he'd say with a small grin "one partner out of the way, i guess. and i've got a long line of more still to come!"

he would say that he's excited about being single again so he can enjoy getting attention. all the attention he had before he started dating you

he likes having his freedom back

confirmed bachelor ✅

but deep down he is hurting. deep down he knows that no one will ever be able to take your place.

and he tries to fill that void and forget and deny but he can't sustain that. oh no; he wants you back.

jongho

the content one

he's quite similar to yunho in the sense that his response to the breakup will solely rely on the situation

but in most situations, he's quite a calm ex. doesn't do anything too crazy. of course, he's sad the relationship didn't work for the both of you, though. and there are aspects of the relationship he would miss a lot

but he would be grateful for the experience and what you have taught him about himself, along the way

alexa, play thank u, next by ariana grande

no, but seriously, he takes his experience from your relationship as something to learn from before entering his next relationship, you know?

he will evaluate what he had done wrong or what he could've done better, stuff like that...

so overall, he recovers from the breakup quite positively. out of all the members, he's the most emotionally stable coming out of a relationship.

ateez taglist: @a-wandering-stay, @xlovehwa, @yeosangsbiceps, @anyamaris, @acciocriativity, @hawaiian-angel, @chammak-challokys

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jaymari-lyn · 10 months ago

Text

Okay, so since nobody is talking about it, I will

This apparently is supposed do be the opening of the first scene in season 5 and it brings up a lot of questions.

The first one being, who is the child? Cold wind and groaning trees makes sense since Hawkins is now sort of combined with the Upside-Down, but some child singing is a little odd.

By now, all the 'kids' in the show are well in their teens, so considering them 'children' wouldn't make a lot of sense. So, first my head goes to a flashback sequence.

It could possibly be a flashback of Eleven and the other kids from the rainbow room, but since last season was really focused on it, I don't it's going to be as central this season.

What I think it could be is a flashback to either Will in the Upside-Down back in season 1, OR a flashback with him and Mike as little kids.

If it's Will in the Upside-Down, it would make a lot of sense since we know Will used to sing when he was down there. So we could possibly be getting a flashback to Wills week in the Upside-Down, because this whole season is supposed to be about him, as well as a full circle moment back to season 1 for a lot of characters.

But another theory I like is that it's a flashback to Mike and Will when they first met. The cold wind and groaning trees could just interpreted as less creepy, and just more like fall Indiana weather, and the child's voice could be Will singing to himself on the swingset. I could be wrong, but it seems like Will used to use music as a way to cope or keep himself busy as a kid (with Jonathan while Joyce and Lonnie would fight, plus the Upside-Down, like I said earlier). If Will was all alone on the swingset with no friends as a kindergartener who probably missed his mom and brother, he might sing as a way to make himself feel better. We've seen bts photos of a playground with a swingset, so it is plausible. Another thing is maybe Will singing is what originally got Mike's attention, because let's be honest, he is super oblivious, and this is even before he gained his Will-is-upset instinct, so he most likely wouldn't notice Will unless he was doing something that would make him stand out. One more thing that I want to add is that Wills singing as a kid might have been what made him start getting bullied. Besides his appearance, what other things would have made the bullies or even Lonnie, for that matter, think he's gay? He may be on the smaller side, but lots of boys are, so why Will specifically. Back in the 80s singing (and take this with a grain of salt because I wasn't alive back then) probably would have been considered "girly", so that could have been one of the factors that got these assholes to start bullying him. And, you can notice that after season 2, Wills connections to music sort of dissappears. His love for it isn't really brought up that much, and we never see or hear about him singing in season 3 or 4, so it could have been him getting sick of bullying and trying to change himself to appear 'normal' to a heteronomative society that doesn't accept gay people. This flashback would also be, in turn, a great way to start introducing back Mike and Wills friendship, as well as their obvious live for one another.

Another thing , though, that can debunk that theory, is that it has to be a familiar song. The only one that really comes to mind for me is "Should I Stay Or Should I Go?", which didn't come out until '82, so it wouldn't line up time-wise for Will to be singing that when him and Mike were todlers in the 70s. If that's the case, I don't know what familiar song he could be singing.

If you guys can think of any other songs that would work time-wise, please let me know.

Personally, I think music is going to play a huge part in this final season, between Will's connection to it, and the fact that it's the only way to get away from Vecna once he is in your head (since music can reach aprts of the brain words can't)

But let me know your thoughts! I'd love to hear them!

#stranger things #stranger things 5 #st5 predictions #st5 #byler #byler endgame #stranger things theory #theory

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tumblingghosts · 3 months ago

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au ask game: unlikely childhood friendship between Sejanus Plinth and Felix Ravinstill

(If you need help: I headcanon that Felix is homeschooled until after the war ends so technically they both start at school at the same time, although Felix would know everyone else from social gatherings)

hello :D !! AAA childhood friends trope let's go-

1. felix hadn't quite gone hungry in the war, but he wasn't going to say no to being offered cookies by a new classmate. he figured sejanus was just in a different social circle and that was why he hadn't seen him before- and by the time sejanus had explained he'd just moved to the capitol from district 2, felix was halfway through eating it.

2. felix will rationalize that it wasn't his fault that he'd interacted with sejanus that first day. he dipped out of that conversation real quick after realizing sejanus was district (but kept the rest of the cookie) and decided that he wouldn't be talking to him again. especially after sejanus is officially introduced to the class to a pretty unwelcoming reception.

3. his plan fails the next day when sejanus approaches him, having taken that first interaction as an opening for friendship. felix tells himself later that he would have rebuffed sejanus there and then, really he would have, but sejanus had brought more desserts, and no one was around to see it, so what was the harm?

4. sejanus picks up pretty quickly that felix won't interact with him in public, but also, his only point of reference for 'friends' in the capitol is coriolanus, who isn't so much friendly as he is non-hostile. the whole 'meet up in secret' becomes a routine and felix doesn't realize how much of a routine it is until sejanus gets sick one day and doesn't show up to class. felix has a bit of a freak out at the oh no we're friends realization and decides to avoid thinking about it by avoiding sejanus.

5. there's probably some coriolanus v felix beef in there ('you already have the privilege of being related to the president what do you have to gain from the district boy' -coriolanus, probably), and felix stops avoiding sejanus after he gets jealous seeing sejanus spending time with coriolanus in his absence. i want to say they have a talk about it, but i feel like felix would just pretend like nothing happened and sejanus wouldn't press to keep felix from avoiding/ignoring him again.

(sorry for sitting on this ask for so long! i spent a while trying to figure out how image-conscious felix would ever end up in a friendship with sejanus, and it kind of turned out as a combination of 'he didn't know at first' + 'it would need to be secret'. i was trying to work in that bit you mentioned in a previous post where felix would be someone to understand loneliness, but it'd take a while for any kind of proper conversation to happen bc felix is avoiding the subject like the plague & trying to 'continue the friendship as normal' and sejanus is reluctant to be the one to bring it up. i could see it getting messy once they both hit an emotional breaking point with felix grappling where he holds their friendship vs his social image. ghghghs anyway i'm gonna continue thinking about these two-)

anyway, thanks for the prompt abyssal! <33

#tbosas #felix ravinstill #sejanus plinth #tbosas au #ask game #backpacks asks #ravinplinth childhood friends au

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unreadpoppy · 4 months ago

Text

Jealousy doesn't suit you

Minthara x Galatea

Read on AO3

Summary: Galatea is jealous of Minthara and Karlach's growing friendship.

A/N: Some of this feels a tad OOC for me for some reason but idk. Some angst, but fluff at the end.

Galatea watched as Minthara and Karlach had a sparring match. Usually, Karlach wasn’t one to care much about her technique in combat, much preferring to just head straight on and think later, but the drow had insisted and so she relented.

Gal tried to focus on sharpening her own sword, using Lae’zel’s grinder, while hearing the two fighting. She tried not to pay attention to it, but it was hard with the constant grunting and occasional laughter from Minthara. When she finally decided to look up, she was not pleased with the sight.

Minthara circled Karlach as she spoke. “Your hits are strong but your form is lacking.”

Karlach huffed. “You keep saying that but you haven’t shown me anything.”

“Hold your axe like this.” The drow showed and then shook her head at how Karlach had done it, walking behind her. “If we are to defeat the Absolute, you can’t hold your weapon as if you were some dumb footed duegar.” She held Karlach’s arm, putting them in the proper place. “Like this.”

For a brief moment, she was reminded of her childhood - her opening her arms to get a hug from her grandmother, only for the older woman to bypass her completely, and go for her sister, Briseidas, instead. Her eye twitched, just as Astarion approached her.

“Green does not suit you, darling.” He said.

She shook her head, looking at him and then looking at her robes. “But I’m not wearing green.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Oh for goodness sake” He inched closer and whispered. “The jealous type.” He looked between her and the other two.

Galatea frowned. “I’m not jealous.”

“Oh no, of course not. Because it is very normal to eye your lover sparring with someone else with a look of murder on your face, while menacingly sharpening your sword.” He chuckled. “Very normal indeed.”

“Oh bugger off, will you.” She said, taking her sword and walking away.

“You can try to deny it but it won’t stop it from being true.” Astarion shouted which prompted Gal to give him the middle finger, before leaving camp.

Minthara watched the interaction, wondering what prompted such a reaction from her partner. She didn’t have time to do anything, as Karlach took advantage of her momentary distraction to tackle her to the ground.

Galw was trying to teach her a new spell, but all Galatea could focus on was how close Minthara and Karlach were sitting next to each other. The two were sharing a bottle, the tiefling’s laughter echoing around camp.

Galatea couldn’t help but wonder what they were talking about. Were they sharing stories of past victories in battle? Advice? Gossip?

Were they talking about feelings?

Another memory came. Suddenly, she was a teenager, alone in her room, while various suitors pursued her sister. The walls of her house were thin, as she heard the laughter coming from the other room.

The snapping of fingers brought Gal back to reality, and the spell she was focusing on dissipated.

“You know, for this to work, you need to focus here.” Gale said, with a sigh. “You sorcerers think you know everything but-”

“Yes, yes, I know, we can still learn something from a wizard.” Galatea said, imitating his voice and rolling her eyes. “Cut me the speech, professor.” At his hurt expression, she shook her head and gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. My mind is elsewhere and it frustrated me. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

He gave her a nod. “Apology accepted.” He noticed how her eyes went to Minthara and Karlach, twitching when looking at the tiefling, and said “It would probably help you focus if you stopped trying to kill our dear fiery friend with your eyes.”

She looked at him indignantly “I am not doing such a thing.”

“Of course, and I’m the fiercest warrior ever.” He jested. “We all feel jealous from time to time. It’s natural.”

“I’m not jealous.” She replied.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

She rolled her eyes. “Just shut up and show me the spell again.”

As the two continued with their lesson, Minthara couldn’t help but overhear parts of their conversation. With Karlach so close, she didn’t understand the full context, but she could see that something was bothering Galatea.

She took another swing from her drink, keeping a mental note to investigate that later.

Something was off with Galatea.

As each day passed, it seemed as if the tiefling was avoiding her existence. Their conversations were getting shorter and shorter, only speaking what was necessary for their plans. Galatea had been leaving Minthara at camp more often, alone with Karlach, only to come back grumpier than ever. Even the occasional hand on Minthara’s back or waist when the two walked together seemed to be fading.

What struck Minthara hard was when Galatea did not come to her bed. The two had an unspoken routine. Every night, the tiefling would go to Minthara, holding her as the drow entered her trance, and she would not leave until morning.

But that night, such a thing had not happened. Minthara waited and waited, until she finally made her way to Galatea’s bed, where she laid down facing the wall.

“Why haven’t you come to me yet?” Minthara said.

“I am not feeling very well. I thought it best to leave you alone.” Galatea murmured.

“If you are sick, you should speak to-”

“I am fine, it’s just…just go to your bed.” She sighed. “You’ll survive one night without me” Galatea whispered. Minthara frowned as walked away, determined to discover what was wrong.

It was a few days later that Minthara figured out what it was.

She was watching Lae’zel and Galatea sparring, and her lover was not doing well. Even if she couldn’t see the tieflings face, she could tell she was distracted. Minthara had seem her fighting gith before, and she hadn’t struggled as much as she was now.

Lae’zel’s taunting didn’t help.

“Our fearless leader and you can’t even put me on the ground.” She said, and Galatea snarled as her hits were parried once again. “If you keep up like this, we’ll never defeat the Absolute.”

“Shut up.” Galatea whispered, hitting again, with more strength this time.

“You hit like Gale.” Lae’zel said, charging at her with another blow.

Galatea pushed her, turning back to walk away “I swear by all nine hells-”

“No wonder Minthara was advising Karlach, considering you can’t even draw blood.” Lae’zel shouted. Seeing the sorcerer tense up, she added. “Maybe she should stick with the strongest warrior.”

It was that comment that threw Galatea over the edge. One last memory came to mind, when Galatea was much older. She heard, outside the room, as her grandmother listed all the ways in which her sister was much better than her, how they should ship her off to the first old man seeking a wife that they found, allowing Briseidas to find a better match.

Minthara watched as the tiefling gripped her sword with a newfound anger, and charged at Lae’zel, using her horns to break the gith’s defense. Using both hands, she delivered hit after hit, until she was pushed on her back.

Quickly rolling to the side before Lae’zel struck, she stood up, defending herself against the gith’s attacks. Then, her tail wrapped itself around one of Lae’zel’s ankles, throwing off her balance. Galatea kicked her sword from her hand, using one foot to pin that hand to the ground, while placing the tip of her sword near her neck.

She stood above Lae’zel, panting. “Don’t you ever say that again.” Galatea said, roughly throwing her sword away, and left the party’s shared room in the Elfsong Tavern.

The gith sat up, groaning. “That was a good one.” She stood up, crossing her arms and looked at Minthara, who was picking up the sword. “Though she seemed troubled. Do you know what it is?”

“Not exactly, but I do have an idea.” She said.

It was only on the next day that Minthara and Galatea found some time alone to speak. A few days prior, the drow had found some unexplored caves in Rivington, allowing them some privacy. The walk there had been silent, but she could see the frown on Gal’s face, of someone who had much to say but preferred to keep quiet.

It was only in the darkness of the cave that Galatea said something. “Why have you brought me here?”

“I thought a break from the others might be good for you.” Minthara replied. “And…I can tell something is bothering you.”

Before she could continue, Galatea sighed heavily, rubbing her forehead. “By all hells, you too with this?”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s just that everyone else on camp seems to be intent on telling me I’m upset.” She began rambling. “First it was Astarion, then Gale, even Lae’zel approached me last night, and now you.” She paced around, not noticing some movement behind her.

Minthara noticed it and said “Galatea.” but she ignored her and kept talking. “Galatea.” She tried again, more firmly. When she realized it was a hooded man coming up behind her, she shouted “Galatea!”

“What?!”

“Get down.” Was all Minthara said, unsheathing her sword and swinging towards Gal’s head. The tiefling dodged, just in time to see Minthara beheading an assassin behind her.

Galatea saw others approaching from the shadows, and she knew by the way they dressed that they had been sent by Orin.

“Oh hells no.” She said, counterspelling a hold person meant for Minthara. As they all began stealthing and hiding in the shadows, Galatea and Minthara’s backs touched.

There was a moment before anyone attacked, in which Minthara said “Straj! We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

Just as the words left her mouth, one of Bhaal’s assassins attacked, causing them to separate. Galatea misty stepped to a rock on higher ground, where one of their enemies hid. They did not have time to react as she quickly cast thunderwave, making them fall to the ground. Then, she shouted “How is this my fault?”

The assassin fell prone right next to Minthara, who growled as she finished him off, when the man tried to run. “If only you told me what was happening, I wouldn’t have brought you here.” Casting faerie fire, Minthara and Galatea were now able to see the remaining assassins.

The tiefling groaned, flying down and attacking another enemy. “I told you, everything is fine!”

“If everything is fine-” Minthara dodged an attack and knocked her target down with her massive shield. “then why have you been answering everyone so curtly as of late, hum?”

“That’s just how I’ve always been.” Galatea said, angrily, punching one of her enemies.

“Oh please, do not lie to yourself, and much less to me.” Minthara beheaded another assassin, the blood splashing on her face. She turned to her, scowling. “Something is bothering you. It’s why you’ve been avoiding my bed.” Before she continued, she pointed at an enemy behind Galatea.

She turned around, pointing at her fast approaching target and disintegrating him in thin air. She looked at Minthara, only one assassin left. “So this is about sex, then?”

Minthara groaned, as she rushed past Gal, attacking their enemy “This is not about sex.” She said, with each strike of her sword. Once they were dead, she faced Galatea again, her white hair covered in blood. “This is about you and me and our relationship.” She began walking towards Galatea. “And I know you well enough to know something is wrong, but if you won’t tell me, I have no reason to believe you still want me.”

“I-” Before she could finish, another assassin, one they hadn’t realized was hiding, jumped from a rock and in between them, ready to attack Minthara. He wouldn’t be able to, as just as soon as he appeared, Galatea ran him through with her sword. As he screamed in agony, Galatea shouted “Of course I want you!” He fell, dead, to the floor, and the tiefling panted.

“Then tell me: what-”

“I am jealous.” Galatea cut Minthara off. “All week, I’ve been seeing you and Karlach doing everything together - sparring, talking, laughing. I saw you touching her, and the way she smirked at you and I just-” She sighed, shaking her head. “And she’s everything I’m not. Everyone loves Karlach, and truly, why would you not love Karlach? And then Lae’zel made that comment and it just…it made sense.”

The drow raised a brow. “You give reason to that child?” Minthara said, finally understanding what was happening. With her hands behind her back, she walked closer to Galatea. “You are right. The two of you couldn’t be further apart. Karlach is strong, with a fiery heart and a strange optimism, for someone so close to death.” Galatea sucked in a breath, and Minthara could see the tears forming in her eyes.

“But-” She continued, as she got closer and closer. “It was not Karlach who gave me a second chance, who trusted me when others wouldn’t. It was not Karlach who listened to me during my most vulnerable hours. And it is not her who holds me at night, who gives me the best armor and weapons she can find, and who deflects countless spells sent my way when I am not looking during combat.” She cupped Galatea’s cheek, her thumb softly wiping a stray tear. “To think there is space for anyone in my heart besides you is an insult to me.” Minthara whispered.

Galatea sighed, relieved, turning her head around and kissing the palm on her face. “I am not used to this. To being loved like this, to being someone’s priority.” She then held both of Minthara’s hands in her own. I saw the two of you together and it reminded me of my home. How everyone in my family forgot I existed once my sister was born.” She looked down, taking a deep breath and then looked back up. “I panicked. I avoided you to lessen the hurt, not realizing that I was hurting you too.” She kissed Minthara’s knuckles. “Will you forgive me?”

The drow gave her a small smile. “Yes, but on one condition.”

“Yes?”

“You will speak to me, Galatea, if you ever feel like that again. If something bothers you, I must know. Promise it.”

“I promise.” She said, smiling.

“Good.” The drow leaned forwards and the two kissed. At first, it was sweet, but soon, Minthara deepened the kiss, her hands entangling in Galatea’s hair, as she brought her so impossibly closer. The two let go, panting, and Minthara walked to a nearby rock, beginning to remove her armor. “Now come. My blood runs hot after this battle and I have an idea for how you can make up to me.”

#baldur's gate 3 #minthara bg3 #minthara baenre #minthara baldurs gate 3 #oc: galatea #minthara x tav #minthara x galatea #mint tea #fluf #angst #some hurt/comfort i think #some suggestiveness near the end #enjoy

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