#i was. i was accepted and everything. i had plans | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mafiadad5 · 1 day ago

Text

House of cards. || l.hc + n.jm

“You want to make quick cash, I have a way.”

♤ now playing- house of cards: bts

♤ Jaemin and Haechan x fem!reader (ft. seven dream)

♤ genre/warnings: smut with plot, angst. college au implied, but also illegal activity au, 18+ mdni!, dom!jaemin, vanilla!haechan, slight threesome, multiple sex scenes, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex (don’t do.), breeding/creampie, marking, praise, degrading, pet names, fingering, hair pulling, Jaemin is really manipulative and possessive, betrayal, mention of a gun once or twice.

♤ W/c- 21k

a/n- this is my longest fic. I actually love this, lmk what u think!

"You're late." A voice hummed beside you as you took a seat, out of breath.

"I know," you panted, setting your bag on the desk and wiping the sweat from your forehead. "I ran here, and I'm still late."

"Don't worry. You didn't miss much." He chuckled softly, his fingers already typing on his laptop. A moment later, you heard the ding of an email notification. "I sent you the notes you missed, you're covered."

"Thanks Haechan, you're the best." You said with a grin as you opened your laptop, his gesture warming your chest.

The lecture moved quickly, and by the end you had managed to catch up on everything you missed. Packing your bag, you were ready to get out of there when a light tap on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks.

"Hm?" You asked, turning to face him.

"Did you forget we planned to grab lunch today?" He asked, tilting his head with a soft smile.

"Oh shit Haechan. I completely forgot. I've just got so much work today." You admitted, guilt already creeping into your tone.

"That's okay," he replied, his smile not falling. "We can work together after lunch, if that's cool?"

You hesitated, but his demeanor made it so hard to say no. "Yeah, that sounds good Haechan."

"Great!" He cheered, standing and slinging his bag over his shoulder.

As you walked together to your favorite lunch spot, you found yourself noticing small details: the way his laugh carried in the air, the soft way his arm brushed yours, the golden hue of sunlight bouncing off the sidewalk. You wondered how many times you'd walked this same path, but never really seen it.

The line wasn't too long, and Haechan squinted at the menu, breaking the silence. "Hmm, the pesto sandwich sounds good. I might have to try it."

You nodded, glancing at the menu. "Yeah, that does sound good."

"What about you? Should we both get it?" He asked, his eyes lighting up with the suggestion.

"Oh, I'll probably just get some coffee or something." You replied nonchalantly, shifting your focus elsewhere.

"Just coffee?" He turned to you, his brows knitting together in concern. "Are you not hungry?"

"I mean, I am, but I have stuff at home. I'll be fine." You said, brushing off his concern.

"Y/n." He said, his tone shifting to something softer. "If you're hungry, you need to eat, plus, I really want to try the pesto sandwich with you. Come on—get one. I'll grab your usual coffee too."

"No Haechan, it's okay...I swear. Don't worry about it. Just get your own stuff—I've got mine." You shook your head, trying to keep your voice light.

He tilted his head at you, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes that he always has when he convinces you. "But I want to try the pesto with you and if you're not going to buy it, who's going to?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.

"Exactly." He smiled.

"Just go grab a table, okay? I insist... please?" His voice softened, the sparkle in his eyes making it impossible to argue.

You sighed in defeat, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Fine, but this is the last time, okay?"

"Sure, sure." He said breezily, already turning toward the counter.

As you walked to your table, you couldn't help but reflect on his kindness. It wasn't just this—Haechan always had your back, always knew how to make you feel cared for even when you didn't want to accept help.

He returned a few minutes later, balancing a tray with the sandwiches and your coffee. "Special delivery." He said, setting it down with a grin.

"Thanks Haechan."

"Okay, let's dive in." He said, holding up half of his sandwich toward you like a toast.

You giggled, clinking your sandwich half against his. "Let's dive in."

You both ate quietly at first, comfortable silence filling the air as you both ate, but something in the moment stirred an ache in your chest, and you found yourself speaking before you could stop.

"Haechan." You said softly, your voice carrying a hint of sorrow.

"Hm?" He hummed, looking up from his food.

"I just... I want to thank you for always having my back— for everything. It really means a lot to me."

His expression softened, and he rubbed at his mouth with a napkin before responding. "Y/n, there's no need to thank me. I care about you, and I'll always be here for you no matter what."

The sincerity in his voice made you pause, and for a moment, you just looked at him, taking in the way his eyes seemed to shine in the sunlight.

"Haechan... I need to tell you something." You said, your tone shifting to something more serious.

His smile dropped slightly, replaced with a hint of nervousness. "What's up?"

"I'm going back home," you said quietly. "For good."

The words hung in the air, and you watched as his face fell.

"What? How are you going to...? Wait, are you dropping out?" He asked, though he already knew the answer.

You nodded. "Yeah. I'll figure something out when I get home."

"But you don't have a plan yet?" He pressed, desperation creeping into his voice. "Stay a little longer, you can figure it out here."

"Haechan, me not having a plan back home is still more stable than being here." You said, your voice cracking slightly.

"But you're working so hard. We only have one year left. You can do it—I know you can." His voice was full of belief, but there was a sadness there too, like he knew he couldn't do anything to persuade you.

"Haechan... your belief doesn't pay the bills. I work two jobs, and I'm still a full time student— i'm exhausted. I can't do it anymore." You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His leg bounced under the table, and he bit his lip before finally nodding. "Yeah, no, I get it. I really do." He lifted his head, forcing a small smile. "I just hope we stay in touch. I'll always be here to support you, ok?"

"Of course. We're still going to be friends Haechan. Nothing's going to change that, I promise."

He nodded quietly, packing up his things and gathering the trash. "I should get going, I know you have work to do."

"But I thought we were going to work together?" You asked, confused.

"Yeah, I know, but I don't want to distract you." He said, his voice soft but distant.

You frowned. "Haechan, I'm sorry if I upset you..."

"You didn't," he said quickly, his smile hesitant. "I get it, really. I'll talk to you later, ok?"

"Ok. Bye Haechan." You said, watching as he walked away. ══════════════════════════ You sat on your bed, lost in thought, the weight of your decision pressing down on your chest. The faint glow of your phone screen caught your attention as a notification popped up.

“Hey, can we talk?”

Your brows furrowed as you typed back quickly.

“Yeah, sure. Do you wanna call?”

The response came almost immediately.

“No. I want to talk in person.”

A flicker of concern passed through you. Haechan wasn't usually this abrupt.

“Oh, okay. Where do you want to meet?”

“I'll pick you up. Be there in 15.”

Your stomach twisted as you stared at the screen. Something about the way he phrased it felt off, but you pushed the feeling aside.

“Ok!”

You threw on a jacket, glancing at yourself in the mirror. What could he possibly want to talk about that couldn't wait? The thought clawed at you as you slipped outside, waiting on the curb.

The low hum of an engine pulled your attention, and a sleet jet-black BMW rolled up to the curb. Its tinted windows blended seamlessly into the darkness, making it look more like a shadow than a car. The door unlocked with a soft click, and you climbed in, greeted by the faint scent of leather and cologne.

Haechan glanced over at you, his expression unreadable as he reached over to check that your seatbelt was fastened. He didn't say much, just nodding before pulling back onto the street.

"Where are we going?" You asked, your voice cutting through the low hum of the engine.

"Just on a drive, if that's okay with you." He replied, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he maneuvered through the quiet streets. Something about his demeanor—his silence, the sharpness in his posture made the air heavier.

"Yeah, that's fine." You said slowly, trying to see where his mood was at. "What's up? What did you need to talk about?"

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as if he was weighing his words carefully. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. "I have a way you can stay here."

Your chest tightened. "Haechan, I already told you I can't—"

"Just listen." He cut you off sharply. His tone wasn't angry, but the sudden edge in his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard, nodding. "Ok. What is it?"

"It's risky as hell," He admitted, his grip on the wheel tightening, "but it'll make you a lot of money. More than enough to pay for your tuition and bills."

Your stomach turned. "What kind of 'risky' are we talking about?"

He hesitated again. "I can't tell you too much."

Your brows knitted together as unease crept up your spine. "This sounds very... illegal." You said, trying to add a bit of humor to ease the tension, but the way his jaw clenched at the word made your pulse quicken.

"Would you do it if it was illegal?" He asked, his tone half joking, half dead serious.

"I'm not becoming a prostitute, if that's what you're implying." You joked, your nervous laugh filling the silence.

That earned a small chuckle from him, though it was short. "No, it's not that."

"Well, can you at least tell me more?" You pressed, your voice full with both curiosity and concern.

"I can't." He said firmly, his eyes flicking toward you for a brief moment before returning to the road. "It's something I have to show you. Look—if you're not comfortable, you can back out anytime, but I do it, and... well, look at what you're sitting in right now." He gestured briefly to the interior of the car, the soft leather seats and pristine dashboard. "It's not as bad as you think."

Your heart was pounding now, the weight of his words sinking in. "Haechan, you're scaring me. Seriously."

He exhaled sharply, his grip on the wheel loosening slightly. "If you're scared, then this isn't the right job for you." He said, his voice softer, but still firm.

You bit your lip, your hands clenching in your lap. "But I want to stay," you said, your voice shaky. "I want to try."

He glanced at you again, his expression unreadable. "So, you're down? Like I said, you can back out if you don't want to."

You nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Yeah... I'm down."

He pulled up in front of your apartment building, the car slowing as he turned to look at you. "Alright. Let's talk about this more over lunch tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah." You murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "Sounds like a plan."

You stepped out of the car, your legs shaky as you walked back to your apartment, the hum of the car fading into the night as Haechan drove off. ══════════════════════════ The next day, you sat at the small café table, your leg bouncing anxiously. The cup of coffee in front of you was untouched, growing colder by the minute as you waited.

Finally, you spotted him weaving through the tables. He placed a red gift bag on the table beside him as he slid into the seat across from you.

"Hey Y/n!" He greeted, his tone cheerful.

"Hey." You replied with a small smile, sitting up straighter.

"How were your classes? I know you had some rough ones today." He asked, his voice light and casual, like the two of you hadn't had a tense conversation just the night before.

"They were... ok actually." You said, your smile tightening slightly. "What about you?"

"Pretty chill. You know I only have one class on Thursdays." He said, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed shrug.

"Right..." You nodded, feeling the tension tighten in your chest. The conversation was good, but you couldn't ignore the elephant in the room. "So... are you ready to talk more about, you know?"

The moment the words left your mouth, his demeanor shifted. The brightness in his expression dimmed, replaced by something harder to read. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto yours.

"What if I told you," he began slowly, his voice softer but laced with a teasing edge, "that I didn't have anything to talk about and just wanted an excuse to have you come to lunch with me?"

Your brows lifted slightly, caught off guard by his response. "Then I guess it worked, huh?" You replied, a small smile tugging at your lips.

That seemed to satisfy him, and for a moment, his bright smile returned. "It did." He admitted with a quiet laugh, shaking his head. But then, just as quickly as the lightness had returned, it faded again, and he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "There's not much I can say here." He said, glancing briefly around the café as if to check for eavesdroppers.

Your heart skipped a beat, your palms pressing nervously against your thighs under the table.

"But," he continued, sliding the red gift bag across the table toward you, "I wanted to give you this for tonight. Don't open it until you get home, ok?"

You stared at the bag, your fingers hesitating before brushing against the smooth handles. "What's with you and these cliffhangers?" You asked, trying to keep your tone light even as your mind raced with possibilities.

He chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. "I guess I just like keeping you on your toes."

Your lips twitched into a nervous smile, your fingers now gripping the bag. He stood up suddenly, smoothing the front of his jacket as he prepared to leave. "I have to go," he said, glancing at his watch. "but I'll pick you up at 9:30 tonight, ok?"

"Ok." You nodded, your voice quieter now as you looked up at him.

He paused, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. "Oh, and look your absolute best." He added, his lips curving into a small mischievous smile. "Even though you're pretty good at that already."

You felt a warmth creep up your neck at his words, but before you could respond, he was already turning away.

"See you tonight." He called over his shoulder, raising a hand in a casual wave.

You waved back, watching him walk his way through the café and out the door. The moment he was gone, the tension you'd been holding onto seemed to double. You glanced down at the gift bag sitting innocently on the table, its crimson color popped against the pale wood. ══════════════════════════ You got home and instantly opened the red gift bag, pulling out the contents with a mix of awe and unease. Inside was a beautiful black dress, its fabric soft and luxurious, shimmering faintly under the dim light of your room. You spotted the price tag and your jaw dropped—$300.

Holding the dress up, you sighed and reached for your phone, opening your text with Haechan.

"Haechan I can't accept this."

"Why not?"

"Because it's so expensive. I have black dresses I can wear. I'm giving it back when you pick me up."

"No offense, but those dresses aren't good enough."

"Ouch..."

"Sorry, you should've just accepted it and been quiet..."

"K whatever, bye."

"Bye Y/n. See you tonight."

You sighed again as you locked your phone and set it down on the bed. Your fingers grazed the dress, it was beautiful, but left you feeling conflicted. A nap seemed like the best way to shake the nerves eating away at you, so you curled up under your blanket, your mind buzzing with unanswered questions.

When you woke, the sun had already set. You got up and started getting ready, making yourself look your absolute best, just like he requested. The dress fit perfectly, clinging to you in all the right places. You styled your hair and touched up your makeup until you barely recognized yourself in the mirror.

As you waited by the window, you heard the familiar low rumble of Haechan's car before your phone even buzzed. You grabbed your things and stepped outside, the cold night air brushing against your skin as you walked toward the sleek black BMW parked by the curb.

Haechan stepped out of the driver's seat, and your eyes widened at the sight of him. He was dressed in tailored black pants and a silky black shirt that glinted faintly under the streetlights. His dark hair was styled in a perfect middle part, and his warm, tan skin seemed to glow even in the dark.

"You look gorgeous." He said, smiling as he opened the passenger door for you.

"I could say the same about you." You replied, unable to hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

He got back into the car, and the two of you drove off. The silence in the car wasn't uncomfortable, but it was heavy, only the faint hum of the radio and the low growl of the engine. Your eyes kept drifting toward Haechan as he drove, his profile sharp and focused, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"So," he said suddenly, breaking the silence. "I have three rules for you before we get there."

You nodded, your heart skipping a beat as you turned to him.

"Rule one: don't talk to anyone I don't introduce you to or people who aren't customers." His voice was steady, but there was a slight edge to it.

"Ok."

"Rule two: never, ever come to this place without me."

You hesitated but nodded again. "Ok."

"Rule three: never go home with anyone, and I mean anyone. No excuses, no exceptions. Do you understand me? This is very important."

The weight of his words pressed down on you, but you nodded. "Yes, I understand."

"Good." He said, his tone softening slightly, but his gaze remained fixed on the road.

The car pulled into a narrow alley, lined with other luxury cars that gleamed under the dim glow of overhead lights. You glanced nervously at Haechan as he parked and got out, quickly walking to your side to open the door for you.

You stepped out, the sounds of the city muffled in the quiet alley. Haechan guided you toward, what looked like an ordinary convenience store. The bell above the door jingled as you entered, and your stomach twisted with confusion. It was... just a convenience store.

You followed Haechan to the counter, where a small man with a gray beard greeted him warmly. "Haechan! We missed you!"

"Yeah, I've been busy. Glad to be back." Haechan replied with a polite smile.

The man's eyes flicked to you, and his smile grew slightly. "And who's this?"

"A friend." Haechan said, glancing at you before returning his attention to the man.

"Only a friend?" The man teased, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Why do you always press me like this? She's only a friend." Haechan chuckled, but his tone shifted to something more serious.

The man's expression got serious. "You know how I feel about new customers." He said, his voice low.

Haechan pulled out a stack of cash and slid it across the counter. "Maybe this will change your mind?"

The man raised an eyebrow but pushed the money back. "Keep your money young man. I'll make this exception because she looks like she could make me some money, but don't do it again. Or you're done."

"Yes sir," Haechan said with a respectful nod. "Now, can we go?"

The man grunted, then pressed a button under the counter. A faint click echoed through the room, and a beaded curtain at the back of the store shifted slightly.

Haechan motioned for you to follow him. Your steps were hesitant as you glanced back at the man, who gave you a small smile.

Haechan pushed through the curtain and opened a hidden door, revealing a narrow, dimly lit staircase. He turned to you, his hand reaching for yours. "Come on."

You hesitated, your fingers trembling as they intertwined with his. The air grew colder as you descended, the sound of your heels echoing faintly on the worn steps.

"I don't know Haechan," you whispered. "If this is too much trouble, I can leave. I don't want to get you in trouble."

He stopped abruptly, turning to face you. "We're in." He said firmly. He gestured to the door at the bottom of the stairs. "This is your last chance to turn back. Are you in?"

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. You took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, I'm in."

A small smile tugged at his lips before he turned back and opened the door.

The room beyond was like nothing you'd ever seen—a lavish, red and gold space filled with poker tables, roulette wheels, and slot machines. The crowd was a mix of old and young, all dressed in the finest clothes, their wealth on display in every detail.

"Here we are." Haechan murmured beside you, his voice low and steady.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the scene. The luxuriousness, the mystery, the faint hum of tension in the air—it was intoxicating.

Goodness, what had you gotten yourself into?

══════════════════════════ Rule #1: don't talk to strangers or people who aren't playing customers.

Haechan led you into the vibrant room, his demeanor cool and collected as if this was second nature to him.

"So, here's a quick rundown of the place." He began, his voice calm but commanding as you trailed closely behind him. "These are the slot machines. You won't be here much because, honestly, people just kind of do whatever here. It's not really our focus."

You nodded, glancing around at the glowing machines that lit up the space. Laughter, cheers, and frustrated groans filled the air as people obsessively pulled levers and pressed buttons.

"These," he continued, leading you past the slot machines to a series of spinning wheels surrounded by a mix of excitement, "are the roulette tables. They're not huge money-makers, but I think you could handle them. People listen to pretty faces."

He smirked, shooting you a sideways glance that made your cheeks flush slightly.

He chuckled and moved on. "Now, these are the Rummikub tables." He explained, gesturing toward a quieter section of the room where small groups of people sat in the game. "This is my personal favorite because I like to play, but it's not where the big money is. You won't really need to be here unless you're playing for fun."

He stopped for a moment, scanning the room before continuing. "And finally, these are the poker and blackjack tables." He said, his tone shifting slightly as he pointed to the most crowded section of the room. The energy here was different—intense and electric. Stacks of cash and high stakes surrounded every table. "This is where we want to be. These tables are our bread and butter. This is where the real money gets made."

You took it all in, your stomach twisting slightly with nerves. "Um, Haechan, not to kill the vibe or anything, but I don't think this is for me." You admitted hesitantly. "I'm terrible at gambling. They'd destroy me out there."

He stopped walking and turned to face you, a soft laugh escaping his lips. "You're not gambling Y/n." He said, his voice patient but firm. "That's not the job."

"Then... what is the job?" You asked, feeling a little more nervous now.

He smiled as he pushed open a heavy red door labeled "EMPLOYEES ONLY." Inside, three men were gathered, each with a distinct aura that made it clear they were used to being in charge of something.

"Haechan! Where've you been?" One of them said, standing up to greet him with a firm handshake.

"Busy, as always." Haechan replied with a grin. "But I'm here now. Got something new to show you." He turned slightly, motioning toward you.

The man looked you up and down with a raised eyebrow. "And who's this?"

"This is Y/n. She's going to be working with us." Haechan explained, his tone casual but confident.

"She's gonna be a money maker, I can tell already." The man said, extending a hand toward you. "I'm Mark. Nice to meet you Y/n."

You shook his hand, offering a polite smile. "Nice to meet you too."

"Hi, I'm Renjun." Said another man seated at a desk covered in monitors displaying security camera feeds. He glanced at you briefly before turning his attention back to the screens. "Wow, you're really pretty." He added, looking at Haechan. "Where'd you find her?"

Haechan rolled his eyes, chuckling. "Mind your business."

"And I'm Jisung." Said a tall guy with a deep voice, walking into the room. "I'm the boss around here."

"Jisung, you are not the boss." Another voice interjected. A sharp looking man sitting in the corner smirked at Jisung. "I'm Chenle. Don't listen to him—he just likes to act important."

You laughed nervously, glancing at Haechan for reassurance.

"Alright, alright." Haechan interrupted, steering the conversation back. "I'm gonna go find the actual boss. Can you guys give Y/n the rundown while I'm gone?"

"Of course." Mark said, gesturing for you to sit down.

As you took a seat, Mark leaned forward. "Ok, so here's how it works. Your job is to keep people here. Talk to them, smile, flirt a little if you need to. Serve drinks, compliment them—basically make them feel like winners so they keep playing. That's it."

"That sounds... easy enough." You said, nodding slowly.

"It is, for the most part." Mark agreed. "But here's the deal—if you cash out less than $500 in tips and earnings by the end of the night, you get a strike. Four strikes, and you're out. Got it?"

"Got it." You replied, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

Haechan returned a few minutes later, his smile reassuring as he asked, "You ready to start Y/n?"

"Yeah, I'm ready." You said, standing up and smoothing down your dress.

He led you back out to the floor, stopping at a busy poker table. "Here's your first table of the night. Just do your thing."

Hours had passed, and while the work had been easier than you expected, it was also exhausting. Smiling endlessly, chatting up customers, and walking back and forth had drained your energy. You were relieved when Haechan finally appeared beside you, leaning in close to whisper.

"Let's go cash you out." He said softly, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

You followed him to the office, your feet aching. The room looked the same as before, but the men inside seemed more worn down now, their postures slouched and expressions slightly tired.

Mark perked up when you entered, shooting you a friendly grin. "How was your first night Y/n?"

"It was good." You replied, managing a smile. "Some weirdos, but I can handle it."

Mark chuckled. "Yeah, that's pretty typical. Just remember, we're here to protect you. None of us are gonna let anything happen to you—or any of the other women who work here." He added, his voice kind, but firm.

Jisung chimed in, offering you an encouraging smile. "He's right. We don't tolerate anyone stepping out of line. Now, are you ready for your cash out?"

You nodded eagerly, and Jisung walked over to a machine in the corner, his fingers flying over the buttons.

"Renjun, can I get a head count for her?" Jisung asked without looking up.

Renjun who was still monitoring the cameras, swiveled in his chair to glance at you. "She's got about ten customers." He reported before turning back to the screens.

Jisung pressed one final button, and the machine whirred before spitting out a stack of cash. He counted it quickly, nodding to himself before handing it over to you.

"$7,500." Jisung said impressed. "Not bad for your first night."

Your eyes widened as you accepted the money, the weight of it startling in your hands. "Thank you."

"What?" Chenle exclaimed from across the room. "$7,500 on her first night? That can't be right!"

Haechan laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulders. "Just accept that there are people better than you Chenle."

Chenle shot him a disbelieving look, muttering something under his breath, but Haechan ignored him. Instead, he turned to you, his expression softening. "Alright Y/n, can you wait for me at the entrance? I still need to do my cash out and talk to them for a minute."

"Yeah, sure. It was nice meeting you all." You said, waving to the others as you made your way to the door.

"It was nice meeting you too!" Jisung called after you, the rest of them nodding or waving in agreement.

You walked out, heading toward the entrance. As you neared the door, a deep voice stopped you in your tracks.

"Where are you going?"

You turned around, and your breath hitched slightly. The man addressing you was easily the most attractive person you'd seen all night.

"Oh, I was just leaving." You said with a polite smile.

"Why so soon princess?" He asked, stepping closer, his voice low and smooth.

"My friend is leaving, so I'm going with him." You explained.

"Haechan?" He asked, tilting his head.

You nodded. "Yeah, that's him. You know him?"

He smirked. "Yeah, I know him. So... you're dating or something?"

You shook your head quickly. "No, we're just friends, but I came with him, so it's only right to leave with him."

"It's right to stay too." He countered, his voice dripping with charm. "I'd love to have a beautiful woman to look at a little longer."

You laughed softly, the flirty glint in his eyes making your cheeks warm. "Well, I won't stay beautiful if I don't get my beauty sleep. I'll be back, you'll have someone to stare at again."

He slipped five crisp $100 bills into your hand, his fingers brushing yours briefly. "You promise?" He murmured.

"Pinky promise." You replied with a playful smile.

Satisfied, he flashed you one last grin before walking away, leaving you slightly flustered and holding the money. You couldn't stop smiling as you waited for Haechan.

He appeared shortly after his own cash out complete. "Ready to go?"

"Yep." You said, following him out the door. The crisp night air hit your face, refreshing after the stuffy casino atmosphere. You climbed into Haechan's car, unable to contain the excitement bubbling inside you.

"I still can't believe this." You said as he started the engine. "$7,500 Haechan. Are you kidding me? That's so much money!"

Haechan glanced at you, his smile bright. "You did really good. I didn't even make that much tonight."

"Well, technically, I made $8,000." You held up the five $100 bills, laughing. "This random guy gave me this to promise I'd come back. I didn't even do anything!"

Haechan's smile fell slightly. "Wait, didn't I tell you not to talk to strangers?" His tone had shifted, becoming more serious.

Your excitement dimmed just a bit. "Well, he was a customer, obviously, so I didn't think it was a big deal. I didn't want to be rude."

Haechan sighed, his grip tightening on the wheel. "How could you be so sure it was a customer?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right." You said, your voice low with defeat.

He took a deep breath. "Just... be careful. Some of these guys, they'll push boundaries if you let them." He spoke softly, relaxing again.

You nodded, a small wave of unease washing over you. "I'll be more careful next time."

"Good." He said, his easygoing demeanor returned as a small smile painted his face.

You tilted your head in curiosity as you started to think. "So, isn't it just a regular casino? What makes it illegal?"

He chuckled softly, though there was a darker edge to it. "It's a lot more than just gambling Y/n. This place is a money laundering front. No taxes, no oversight. A lot of the cash that comes in is dirty—earned through illegal means. We clean it for them, and we profit off it. Also people can't snitch if we use them to keep playing. Like if someone drinks too much and blows a $1,000,000 check, that's not our fault and they just have to take that L."

You frowned. "That sounds... really shady. What about the people who lose all their money? Doesn't that bother you?"

"They're not innocent." He said, his voice firm. "Most of them are criminals or addicts. They're already hurting themselves or other people. We just benefit from it. That's the business."

His logic made sense, but it didn't sit entirely right with you. "I guess you're right..." You said softly, though a small frown lingered on your face.

Haechan glanced at you, his smile returning. "Don't overthink it. You're just here to make money, not solve the world's problems."

You nodded slowly, leaning back in your seat. "What happens if I don't want to go through with this?"

Haechan's cheerful expression dimmed slightly. He hesitated before answering, as if carefully choosing his words. "Well, you could just walk away. No one's going to stop you if you don't come back. But..." His voice dropped, and for the first time that night, he looked genuinely uncomfortable. "If you talk—if you go to the police, or try to blow the whistle, things get messy."

"Messy how?" You asked, your throat tightening.

He glanced at you, his gaze serious. "You could be arrested. They'll find a way to charge you with something without exposing themselves. And if that doesn't work..." He hesitated again, his grip tightening on the wheel. "You could... disappear."

"Disappear?" You echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Killed." He said bluntly, though his tone was soft. "But that's only if you snitch. As long as you keep your mouth shut, you're safe. I'll protect you from everything else. You just have to trust me."

You stared at him, his words sinking in like cold water. "I trust you." You said finally, though your voice was shaky.

Haechan's expression softened, his usual bright smile returning. "Good. I've been doing this for a long time Y/n. I know how to keep you safe."

He pulled up to your apartment building.

"Thanks for tonight." You said, your voice quieter now. "For taking care of me."

He smiled. "Anytime. Text me when you're inside, ok?"

You nodded, climbing out of the car and heading up to your apartment. Once inside, you dropped your things and leaned against the door, exhaling a shaky breath. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"You're okay, right?"

You smiled faintly, typing back.

"Yeah, I had fun. Thank you for caring about me this much."

His reply came almost instantly.

"Always."

You meant it when you said you trusted him, but as you stared at the $8,000 now sitting on your counter, a lingering unease settled in your chest. This all felt too good to be true. ══════════════════════════

The days turned into weeks, and before you knew it, you'd settled into a strange rhythm at the casino. You'd show up with Haechan, who would always meet you at your door, teasing you about taking forever to get ready.

"I swear you spend more time picking an outfit than we do making money." He'd joke, leaning against your doorframe with that familiar smirk that made your stomach twist.

"Maybe I like looking good for tips." You'd reply, brushing past him with a smile that was just as teasing.

It wasn't long before you learned the ins and outs of the job. Jisung and Chenle started treating you like one of the guys, offering pointers and cracking jokes about your mistakes. Mark was a constant source of encouragement, always reminding you to keep your head up when things got overwhelming.

And then there was Haechan.

He was always there—your partner, your guide, your protector. He would steer you away from customers he didn't trust, stand close when someone got too handsy, and give you a quiet thumbs up from across the room when he saw you closing out a big tip.

"You're a natural." He'd say whenever you doubted yourself, his voice warm and sincere in a way that made your chest ache.

It wasn't just his words. It was the way he would linger a little too long when handing you your coat, his fingers brushing against yours. The way his eyes would soften when you laughed, like he was seeing something he didn't know he needed.

You tried not to think too much about it. After all, this wasn't the kind of world where feelings could blossom freely. There was always a shadow hanging over you—an unspoken reminder that nothing about this life was safe.

Still, moments with Haechan felt... different. Like tonight.

The casino had been unusually packed, the noise and lights more overwhelming than usual. You worked the floor for hours, smiling until your cheeks hurt and dodging the advances of too drunk customers. By the time the night was over, you were exhausted, leaning against the wall near the entrance as you waited for Haechan.

"Long night?" His voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You looked up to see him standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into his pockets and that familiar playful smile tugging at his lips.

"Understatement." You muttered, pushing yourself off the wall.

He chuckled, tilting his head toward the exit. "C'mon. Let's get out of here."

The drive back was quiet at first, the hum of the engine filling the space between you, but then Haechan broke the silence.

"You've been killing it lately." He said, glancing at you. "Seriously. Even Chenle said he's impressed."

You smiled, the compliment warming you more than it should have. "Thanks. It's been... a lot to get used to, but I think I'm finally getting the hang of it."

"You are." He said softly, his tone more serious now. "You're doing great Y/n. Better than I expected."

"Better than you expected?" You teased, raising an eyebrow. "Wow, ouch."

He laughed, the sound filling the car. "That's not what I meant. I knew you'd do well—I just didn't think you'd handle everything this easily. It's not exactly... normal, you know?"

You nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. "Yeah, I know, but I've got you guys, so it helps."

His expression softened, and for a moment, he didn't say anything. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter. "You've got me at least."

The words hung in the air, heavier than you expected. You glanced at him, your chest tightening at the way he looked at you—like he meant it, like he wanted you to believe it.

"I know, I've always have." You said, your voice just as soft.

The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence, the tension between you settling into something warm. When he dropped you off at your apartment, he lingered for a moment, leaning against the car door as you fumbled with your keys.

"Get some rest." He said, his tone lighter now. "You've earned it."

"You too." You replied, pausing in the doorway. "Haechan?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For... everything."

He smiled, the kind of smile that felt like it was just for you. "Always."

You closed the door behind you, leaning against it as your heart raced.

The weeks continued to pass, each night at the casino blurring into the next. You found yourself looking forward to the moments you shared with Haechan, the quiet car rides and the easy banter that seemed to come so naturally.

It was in the way he'd stand a little too close when you talked, the way his hand would linger on your lower back as he guided you through the crowded floor. You told yourself it didn't mean anything, that it was just Haechan being Haechan, but deep down, you weren't so sure. ══════════════════════════ Rule two: never, ever go to this place without Haechan.

It was early evening when Haechan's text popped up on your phone. You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup, already running late.

"Don't bother getting ready tonight. I'm sick, and we're not going in."

You frowned, rereading the text. Your heart sank. Tuition was due in two days, and while you had some of the money saved up, you still needed tonight's cash out to cover the rest.

You quickly typed back.

"I need to go. Can't you power through just for a few hours?"

His response came faster than you expected.

"No Y/n. Just take the night off."

It was one of the rules he'd drilled into your head since day one: Never go to the casino alone. But the deadline for your tuition payment loomed over you, and staying home wasn't an option.

You made up your mind quickly, grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

The casino was just as chaotic as usual—loud music, flashing lights, and the hum of people talking, laughing, and gambling. Without Haechan by your side, it felt overwhelming, but you pushed past the nerves. You told yourself you'd just do a few rounds, make your money, and leave before anyone noticed you were there alone.

As you made your way through the floor, a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

"Princess."

You turned around, your heart skipping a beat when you saw him—the guy from your first night, the one who'd slipped you $500. He looked just as attractive as you remembered, dressed sharply with an air of confidence that made him stand out even in a place like this.

"Leaving so soon?" He asked, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Uh, no. Just... getting started." You replied, trying to sound casual as your heart raced.

His smile widened, and he stepped closer. "What if, instead of working, you spend the night talking to me?"

You raised an eyebrow, half laughing. "You want to pay me to talk to you?"

"Why not?" He said smoothly. "I think you're interesting, and I'd like to get to know you better."

You hesitated, glancing around the room. "I don't even know your name."

"Jaemin." He said, holding out his hand.

You shook it, your gaze narrowing slightly. "That name sounds familiar."

"It should." He said, his smirk deepening. "I'm kind of a big deal around here."

You tilted your head, trying to place him, but nothing clicked. "I don't know what that means, but ok."

He chuckled, leaning in just enough to make your pulse quicken. "One conversation. I'll pay for your cash out tonight if you do."

You froze, your eyes narrowing. "How do you even know about cash outs?"

Jaemin's grin widened, his voice dropping lower. "Because I'm the boss sweetheart. The one who runs everything here."

Your heart stopped. "Wait—you're the boss?"

"Guilty." He said, his tone casual but his eyes locked on yours. "Now, about that conversation?"

You didn't have much of a choice. If he was really the boss, there was no way you could turn him down without risking your job—or worse.

"Alright," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "but I expect you to keep your promise."

"Always." He replied, his tone smooth as silk.

The two of you ended up in one of the VIP lounges, a secluded space far away from the noise of the casino floor. The atmosphere was intimate, the lighting low and warm.

"So," Jaemin said, leaning back on the couch and studying you with a faint smile. "Tell me about yourself."

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "Isn't this supposed to be about you?"

"I already know about me." He said, his tone teasing. "I want to know about you. What made you decide to work here?"

You hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. "I needed the money. Tuition's expensive, and this seemed... easier than working three part time jobs."

He nodded, his expression softening. "Fair enough. So, what's your major?"

"Business," you replied. "and before you ask—no, I'm not planning to end up in a place like this after I graduate."

Jaemin laughed, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Smart girl, but you know, you've got a natural talent for this. You could go far if you wanted to."

"I'll take that as a compliment." You said, your lips curving into a smile.

"You should. I'd be lying if I said you didn't catch my attention the moment I saw you."

You felt your cheeks heat up but managed to play it cool. "Well, you'll have to get used to disappointment. I'm not here for attention—I'm here for money."

Jaemin tilted his head, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again. "And here I was thinking you came back tonight because you couldn't stop thinking about me."

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. "You're ridiculous."

"Am I?" He asked, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "Because I think I'm pretty good at reading people, and right now, I'm reading you."

"Oh yeah? And what's my story Mr. Boss?" you asked, crossing your arms and leaning back.

He mirrored your posture, smirking. "You're smart, ambitious, and probably way too good for a place like this, but you're also a little reckless—you wouldn't be here alone tonight if you weren't."

The flirtation in his voice was impossible to ignore, and your heart picked up speed. "Maybe I'm just bad at following rules." You said, your tone light but your gaze steady.

"Good," Jaemin said, his voice dropping an octave. "I like people who know how to break the rules."

The way he said it made your stomach flip, and for a moment, you were grateful for the low lighting that hid your expression.

"Careful." You said, forcing a smirk. "I might start to think you're the reckless one."

"Who's to say I'm not?" He replied smoothly. He leaned back, watching you like he was waiting for you to challenge him further.

The energy between you was magnetic. It wasn't until Jaemin's next comment that your breath caught.

"Tell me something princess." He said, his voice soft, but deliberate. "Do you always play hard to get, or is that just for me?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. The intensity in his gaze made it impossible to think straight.

"You really think I'm playing?" You managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

His smirk deepened, and he leaned in just enough to make your pulse race. "I think you're having fun, but if I'm wrong, you can tell me to stop anytime."

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. Before you could say anything, the moment was interrupted.

"Jaemin."

Both of you turned to see Haechan standing in the doorway, his expression stormy. His eyes flicked between you and Jaemin, his jaw clenched tight.

Jaemin stood, his demeanor casual despite the tension radiating from Haechan. "If it's about business it can wait." Jaemin said, his tone light but firm.

"It's not." Haechan replied, his voice clipped. "Can we talk? Alone."

Jaemin glanced at you, his smirk softening into something almost reassuring. "Don't go anywhere princess. I'll be right back."

As soon as the door closed behind them, you braced yourself. It didn't take long before Haechan came back, his expression darker than before.

Haechan's shoulders tensed as he stared at you, his jaw clenched so tightly you thought he might snap. "I just don't understand why you'd risk everything by coming here alone. Did you even think about what could've happened to you?"

"Don't talk to me like I'm reckless Haechan." You shot back, your voice sharp. "I'm not stupid. I was careful, and you weren't here. What was I supposed to do? Sit at home and hope for the best while my tuition goes unpaid?"

His nostrils flared, and he stepped closer, lowering his voice but not his intensity. "You were supposed to trust me. I told you I'd take care of it, and instead, you went behind my back and broke the most important rule here."

"Trust you?" You echoed, scoffing bitterly. "You mean the way you've been keeping things from me? Like the fact that Jaemin owns this place? You want me to trust you, but you don't even tell me the full truth."

Haechan flinched slightly, guilt flashing in his eyes before frustration took over again. "I didn't tell you about Jaemin because I didn't want you getting mixed up with him. He's—"

"He's what?" you interrupted, your anger boiling over. "Because from where I'm standing, he's the only one who's been upfront with me tonight. And maybe if you had been honest from the start, I wouldn't have felt the need to come here on my own."

His hands curled into fists at his sides, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. "You don't get it, do you? This isn't just some game. Jaemin isn't some harmless guy throwing money around—he's dangerous Y/n. I've seen what happens to people who cross him. I didn't tell you because I was trying to protect you!"

"Protect me?" You repeated, shaking your head. "You're not protecting me Haechan. You're treating me like I'm incapable of making my own decisions, and I'm tired of it."

For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, the weight of your words hanging in the air like a heavy cloud. Haechan's shoulders sagged slightly, his expression softening but still guarded. "I'm not trying to control you." He said quietly, his voice almost breaking. "I just—"

He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair as he looked away.

"You just what?" You pressed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and something else you couldn't quite place.

"I don't want to lose you." He finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

The vulnerability in his words hit you harder than you expected, but it wasn't enough to extinguish the frustration still simmering in your chest.

"You don't get to say that after everything." You said, your tone softer but still firm. "You don't get to act like you care and then keep me in the dark."

His jaw worked as he struggled to find the right words. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "You're right." He said, his voice heavy. "I messed up, but you still shouldn't have come here alone."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. "And you shouldn't have lied to me. Looks like we both messed up."

"Let's just go." He said after a long pause, his voice low.

You nodded stiffly, still too angry to say more. As the two of you walked out of the lounge, Jaemin's voice followed you.

"Leaving so soon princess?" He called, his tone laced with amusement.

Haechan didn't even look back, his hand brushing your arm as he gently guided you toward the exit.

The car ride was silent, the air between you thick with unresolved tension. You stared out the window, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, while Haechan gripped the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

As you approached your apartment, he finally spoke, his voice quiet but firm. "We'll talk about this later."

You didn't respond, but the flicker of hurt in his tone made your chest ache. As much as you wanted to hold onto your anger, you couldn't shake the feeling that tonight had changed something between you. ══════════════════════════

The tension between you and Haechan was suffocating, and the silence in the car lingered long after you had arrived home. He didn't follow you inside, didn't offer his usual lingering goodbye, just sat in the driver's seat, gripping the wheel, his knuckles white as if he was fighting every instinct to say something.

You didn't look back when you walked into your apartment, but the guilt started to settle in the moment you closed the door behind you. Still, your frustration bubbled just beneath the surface. You knew Haechan cared, but you also felt trapped under the weight of his protectiveness, like he didn't see you as someone capable of standing on your own.

As you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You hesitated before grabbing it, expecting a text from Haechan, but instead a random number flashed across the screen.

"Did you make it home safely princess?"

Jaemin. Your lips twitched into a small smile despite the events of the evening. Why does he care? you wondered.

"Yeah, I'm home. Thanks for asking."

Almost immediately, he replied.

"Good. You shouldn't let Haechan get to you too much. He's always been protective, but he means well."

You stared at the message, your mind racing. Why does it feel like he knows so much?

"How did you even get my number?"

"I have my ways."

Your stomach twisted at his vague response, a strange mix of unease and intrigue coursing through you.

"That's not an answer Jaemin."

"Let's just say I make it my business to know the people who interest me. And you Y/n, are very interesting."

Your cheeks flushed at the implication, but a small part of you bristled at the invasion of privacy.

"You're really something else, huh?"

"Only for you princess."

Before you could respond, another text came through.

"I'd rather see that smile of yours in person than try to guess how you're feeling through a screen. Think you can handle another night at the lounge soon?"

Your heart skipped a beat. He was so smooth, so disarming, and it was hard not to be charmed by his confidence. But after tonight, you weren't sure how you felt about stepping foot in the lounge again.

"We'll see. I don't want to cause any more trouble."

"You're not trouble Y/n. You're a breath of fresh air in a room full of suffocating smoke."

Your heart fluttered, you hated how easily his words affected you.

"Goodnight Jaemin."

"Sweet dreams princess."

You set your phone down, biting your lip to suppress a smile, but the weight of your fight with Haechan lingered. You knew you'd have to face him again soon, and the thought filled you with equal parts dread and anticipation.

The next morning, you weren't surprised when Haechan showed up at your apartment. He didn't knock, just let himself in with the spare key you'd given him months ago. You found him leaning against your kitchen counter, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

"We need to talk." He said, his voice low, but steady.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself. "I know."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm still mad. I'm furious actually, but more than that, I'm scared. You don't understand how dangerous Jaemin is Y/n. He's not some harmless flirt—he's the kind of guy who could ruin your life without blinking."

You flinched at his words, but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. "And what if I can handle him? What if I don't need you swooping in to save me all the time?"

Haechan's jaw clenched. "It's not about you needing me. It's about the fact that I can't sit back and watch you get hurt. You're too important to me."

Your breath caught at the intensity in his voice, and for a moment, you didn't know what to say.

"Haechan..."

He shook his head, stepping closer. "I know I've been holding back, not telling you everything, but it's not because I don't trust you—it's because I don't trust him. Jaemin doesn't do anything without a reason, and if he's got his eyes on you, it's not because he's just being nice."

You frowned, your chest tightening with a mix of emotions. "I can't just ignore him Haechan. He knows things—about the lounge, about you, about me. Part of me feels like if I don't play along, it'll only make things worse."

His eyes softened, but his frustration was still evident. "If you think Jaemin is the kind of person you can play along with, you don't know him like I do."

"I'm not an idiot." You snapped, your voice sharper than you intended. "I don't need you to lecture me about how dangerous he is. I'm just trying to figure this out on my own terms, without you controlling every step I take."

His jaw tightened, and his voice dropped. "Then figure it out, but don't come crying to me when it blows up in your face."

Your chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than you expected. "So that's it? You're just done?"

Haechan's expression was stormy, but there was an unmistakable sadness in his eyes. "I don't want to be, but I can't protect you if you keep running straight into the fire."

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to hold back tears. "Maybe I don't need your protection Haechan. Maybe I just need you to trust me."

He didn't say anything for a long moment, his gaze fixed on you as if searching for something. Finally, he exhaled sharply and grabbed his jacket.

"Well I don't." He said flatly, heading for the door. "Since you're so big and bad now, figure it out yourself."

══════════════════════════ Rule #3: never go home with anyone.

The door slammed behind Haechan, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment, and for a moment, you just stood there, staring at the space he left. The words he'd said still stung—especially the way he'd walked out without looking back, as if you weren't even worth the fight anymore.

You didn't know why it hurt so much. Maybe it was the way he'd always been there, his protective instincts always so fierce. Or maybe it was the way he'd seemed to abandon you when you needed him most. Either way, the emptiness in your chest wasn't something you could ignore.

You sank onto the couch, trying to clear your head. You don't need him, you thought. You're strong enough to handle this on your own, but as much as you told yourself that, the ache in your heart didn't fade.

After a while, you found yourself reaching for your phone and staring at Jaemin's number, the memory of his charming words still lingering in your mind. He'd always known how to make you smile, how to make you feel like you were the only person in the room. Honestly, right now, you needed that distraction.

You hesitated for a moment before typing out a simple message.

"Hey, are you working tonight?"

You didn't have to wait long for his reply.

"I'm always working, but I'm free if you need some company. You gonna come see me tonight?"

There was something about the way he phrased it that made your stomach flutter. You knew what he meant, and despite the mess that had just unfolded with Haechan, you felt the pull toward him. Maybe it was wrong, maybe it wasn't the healthiest decision, but in that moment, you didn't care. You wanted to feel wanted again.

"I'll be there in a bit."

You changed quickly, putting on something that made you feel confident. You weren't exactly sure what was drawing you back to the casino, but you had to admit, Jaemin was part of the reason. The way he looked at you, the way he made you feel like you were the center of his world, it was intoxicating. It was exactly what you needed after the fight with Haechan.

The casino was as chaotic as always when you arrived, but the moment you stepped through the door, your eyes immediately found Jaemin. He was talking to someone, but the second he saw you, his gaze sharpened, and a smile spread across his face.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to grace me with her presence." Jaemin said, walking toward you. His presence seemed to fill the room in a way that made you feel all eyes on you.

"Couldn't resist, huh?" He added, a playful glint in his eyes.

"I guess not." You replied, unable to fight the small smile tugging at your lips. You leaned against the bar as he approached, his eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the tension between you, the unspoken connection that had been simmering from the moment you first met him.

Jaemin stepped in closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "So, what's a beautiful woman like you doing here all alone? Shouldn't you be somewhere safer?"

The way he said "safer" made it sound like a challenge, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

"I don't know," you answered, keeping your voice steady, "maybe I wanted to see you again."

His smile widened, and without missing a beat, he placed his hand lightly on your back, guiding you away from the bar. "I'm glad you did. I was starting to think I'd have to drag you here myself."

You chuckled at the thought, but there was no mistaking the way he was looking at you now. His hand lingered lower on your back, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

As you both moved through the crowd, Jaemin leaned in closer, his voice just above a whisper. "I've been thinking about you Y/n. You've been on my mind since that night at the casino."

His words were smooth, but it was the intensity in his eyes that made your stomach tighten.

"Have you?" You asked, voice dropping to match his intimacy. You were close enough now that you could feel the heat radiating off him, his proximity making your heart race.

"Yeah." Jaemin replied, a sly smile playing on his lips. "I can't help myself when I see someone as stunning as you. I like the way you move, the way you talk, the way you look at me." His fingers brushed the edge of your arm as he spoke.

You didn't pull away. You couldn't. "Well, maybe you shouldn't have been so bold then." You teased, your breath catching in your throat as his gaze darkened.

"I'm bold because I know exactly what I want." Jaemin said, his voice a smooth caress against your ear as he leaned in even closer. "And right now, I want you."

You swallowed hard, the tension between you two almost unbearable now. "What are you saying Jaemin?"

He stopped walking and turned to face you, his hand gently cupping your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. "I'm saying... maybe you should come back to my place tonight. We can skip all the small talk and go straight to what we both want."

Your breath hitched. You could feel the heat rising between you, but even then there was a lingering thought in the back of your mind—Haechan. You had just had a fight with him, but did that mean you had to go through with this?

Jaemin didn't wait for your answer. "You don't have to decide now, but I'm not going to ask again." He whispered, his lips so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath. "Let's see where the night takes us."

And before you could stop yourself, you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "Okay."

You followed him out of the casino, your heart racing as you left behind everything familiar—everything safe. Jaemin's house was breathtakingly luxurious—sleek and modern, with high ceilings and expansive glass walls that reflected the glittering city lights, but you didn't get much of a chance to take it in. His focus was entirely on you, and you were too consumed by him to care about your surroundings.

The moment the door shut behind you, his hands found your waist, pulling you against him. His lips crashed into yours, hungry and demanding. There was no hesitation, no time for second thoughts. He guided you deeper into the house.

Jaemin's kiss was intoxicating, his tongue teasing yours as he deepened it, his hands gripping your hips like he never wanted to let go. You barely noticed when he guided you into a room, sitting you on the cool surface of a dresser. His body moved between your legs effortlessly, as if he'd always belonged there.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes blazing with unspoken desire. "So pretty." He whispered, his voice rough yet tender. His lips found your jawline, trailing soft kisses down your neck. Each touch sent shivers cascading down your spine, his hands squeezing your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of the dresser until there was no space left between you.

Your breath hitched as he kissed harsher now, his lips sucking at the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving marks. You couldn't stop the soft moans escaping your lips, your fingers tangling in his hair as he worked his way deeper into your senses. His touch, his scent, his presence—it was overwhelming.

Jaemin's hands slid lower, gripping the curve of your hips as he pressed you against him. He paused for a moment, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing ragged. "You sure about this?" He asked, his voice low.

You smiled, biting your lip, your voice barely steady. "I'm sure."

His lips curled into a smirk, satisfaction evident. Without wasting another moment, he lifted you off the dresser and turned you toward the large mirror across the room. Your reflection stared back at you, flushed and disheveled, as he bent you over the smooth wooden surface. His hands roamed down your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake as his lips found the back of your neck.

"Look how pretty you are." He murmured, his deep voice washing over you. His eyes locked on yours through the mirror, a mixture of admiration and desire in his gaze.

As he slid your dress up over your hips, exposing more of your skin to the air, you felt your breath hitch. His lips trailed down the back of your neck, leaving a trail of soft, open mouthed kisses that sent tingles down your spine.

The warmth of his hands returned, firm and sure as they settled on your hips, holding you in place. One hand slid lower, his fingers brushing against the sensitive heat between your legs. Even through the fabric, the contact made you tremble.

His smirk widened as he watched your reflection react to his touch, your lips parting in a soft gasp. "And you're so wet for me already." He whispered, his tone teasing yet dripping with satisfaction.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the mirror. His fingers pressed against you more firmly, circling in a way that had your knees weakening beneath you.

"You feel that?" He asked, his voice low and rough against your ear as he leaned over you, his chest brushing against your back. "That's how much you want this. How much you want me."

You nodded, unable to find your voice, your body responding to his touch in ways words couldn't capture. He grinned at your reflection, his confidence intoxicating as he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck.

"Good." He murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "Because I'm not stopping until I've had all of you.

Jaemin's eyes stayed locked on yours through the mirror as he reached down, pulling away the last barrier of clothing keeping you from him. His gaze never left, taking in every inch of your exposed skin, the heat in his expression enough to make your pulse race. His fingers trailed teasingly along your inner thigh, drawing shivers from your body before finally sliding between your folds.

When he slipped one finger inside, your breath caught, and a soft moan escaped your lips. "Jaemin." You whimpered, your head falling forward slightly as your body instinctively pressed back against his hand. He didn't hold back, setting a relentless pace that had your knees trembling almost immediately.

"What's the matter?" He asked, his voice low and taunting, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Can't handle it? You're gonna have a rough time if you can't even take my fingers princess." His laughter was dark and quiet through the room as he pushed another finger inside.

"I can take it." You shot back, your voice laced with determination—though the words broke into a shaky moan as his fingers curled just right, brushing against that spot that made you see stars.

"Yeah?" He replied, his tone both amused and challenging. He quickened his pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you, the slight curve of them sending waves of pleasure rolling through your body. "Then take it. Show me you can handle it."

Your stomach tightened, the coil of heat building steadily as he worked you closer and closer to the edge. "Fuck... oh my god" You gasped, your hands gripping the edge of the dresser for support as your legs started to quake.

Jaemin's smirk widened, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "It's okay. Don't fight it. Just let go for me. Soak my fingers princess." His words were both commanding and soothing, pushing you right to the brink.

"I'm there." You managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper as your body gave in. Your knees buckled, and a flood of warmth coursed through you.

Jaemin slowed his movements but didn't stop, milking every last tremor from your body before finally pulling his fingers out. He lifted his hand into view, his fingers glistening as he tilted them slightly.

"Look." He said with a satisfied smile. "Look at what you did."

You barely managed to lift your head, still catching your breath, but when your eyes met his in the mirror, the smirk on his face sent a fresh wave of heat through you. He brought his fingers closer, holding them in front of your lips.

"Clean me up." He ordered softly, his eyes dark with desire.

Your tongue flicked out, tasting yourself as you took his fingers into your mouth, your lips wrapping around them. The way he watched you, his gaze heavy and unwavering, sent a shiver down your spine. When you were finished, he pulled his fingers away slowly, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"Such a good girl for me." He murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"Turn around for me." Jaemin murmured, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver down your spine.

Before you could move, he grasped your chin gently, tilting your face up to his. His lips met yours in another deep, hungry kiss, his tongue sliding against yours. When he finally pulled away, his lips were slightly swollen, and his gaze burned into yours.

"Now, take my pants off." He whispered.

You didn't hesitate. Your hands moved quickly to undo the button and zipper, pulling his pants down his hips and letting them pool around his ankles. Your fingers hovered teasingly at the waistband of his underwear for a moment, your eyes flicking up to meet his. The faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips gave you all the encouragement you needed. You slid the last piece of fabric down, freeing him completely.

"Good." He praised, his voice a soft growl. "Now turn back around."

You obeyed, turning to face the mirror again. His hands settled on your hips as he stepped closer, the heat of his body radiating against your back. His lips brushed your ear as he spoke.

"I want you to look at yourself the whole time I'm fucking you. Don't you dare look anywhere else. Do you understand?"

"Yes." You whispered breathlessly, your body already trembling in anticipation.

"Good." He murmured, his lips curving into a grin as he teased your entrance with the tip of his length.

He paused for just a moment, his eyes locked on yours in the mirror, savoring the way your body reacted to his teasing. Then, without warning, he pushed his full length into you in one smooth motion.

"Fuck." You whimpered, your fingers gripping the edge of the dresser as your body adjusted to the stretch. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve alive and buzzing.

"You're so fucking tight." Jaemin groaned, his voice a breathy moan, almost like a chuckle. His hands gripped your hips firmly, his fingers pressing into your skin as he began to move, his thrusts deep.

"You're taking me so well." He murmured, his eyes dark and intense as they met yours in the mirror. "Like this pretty little hole was made just for me." His smirk was wicked, dripping with satisfaction as he watched you.

The room filled with the sounds of skin meeting skin, your moans and his low groans. Every thrust was harder than the last, and his grip on your plush thighs tightened, holding you steady as he drove into you relentlessly.

The pressure was overwhelming, instinctively your head began to lower, seeking relief from the intensity.

"What did I tell you?" Jaemin's voice cut through, sharp and demanding.

"To... to look up the whole time." You stammered, your voice shaky and weak.

"Then why are you looking down?" He asked, his breath hitching slightly even as he kept his relentless pace.

"It feels so good." You whimpered. "I... I can't take it."

He chuckled darkly. "Then I'll make you take it."

One of his hands slid into your hair, gripping a fistful and pulling your head back up. Your eyes met his in the mirror again, and the intensity in his gaze sent another wave of heat crashing through you.

He picked up his pace, thrusting into you harder and deeper. The sound of your bodies colliding filled the room, drowning out everything else. Your back arched as he pulled your hair tighter, forcing you to keep your eyes on the mirror.

"Such a filthy slut," he growled, his voice low and rough. "but you can't take it, hm?"

You tried to respond, to form words, but all that escaped were broken moans and gasps, your voice caught in your throat as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak.

"Fuck." Jaemin groaned, his pace faltering for just a moment as his thrusts grew rougher. "I'm almost there. You gonna cum with me?"

You nodded frantically, unable to speak, your body trembling as your stomach tightened.

"Good fucking slut." He rasped, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove into you with one final thrust.

The two of you came undone together, your release washing over you so intense you thought you might collapse. Jaemin's groans mixed with your cries as he spilled into you, his grip on your body grounding you as you both rode out the last moments of pleasure.

His hands softened, sliding up your sides and pulling you gently against his chest. He pressed a kiss to your temple, his breathing still ragged.

"You did so well." He whispered, his tone soft and full of praise. "So fucking perfect."

You forgot about the fight with Haechan, about the rules you'd broken. Well, you tried, but as you got cleaned up you couldn't stop thinking about him. ═════════════════════════ Jaemin had gotten a call that he needed to return to the casino to handle some business. The car ride back was unnervingly silent, and when you finally arrived, he didn't spare a moment. Without so much as a glance your way, he rushed inside, leaving you behind.

You sighed, shaking your head before following him in. You finally reached the office. Inside, Mark, Jisung, and Chenle were gathered in conversation over some paperwork.

"Where did you two go?" Mark asked, getting up from his chair the moment he saw you.

"To his house." You replied casually, brushing off the weight of the evening.

"To his what?" Mark stuttered, his voice rising slightly. His eyes flickered to Jisung, who immediately froze mid gesture.

"Are you okay?" Jisung added, a hint of worry in his tone as he exchanged a wide eyed look with Mark.

"Yes, I'm fine. Why are you asking me that?" You asked, growing defensive under their intense stares.

"Well..." Jisung hesitated, leaning back in his chair. "No one ever goes to Jaemin's house. I mean no one." He paused, sucking his teeth.

"Well, at least no one who's seen again." Chenle said without looking up from his papers.

You blinked at him, stunned by his bluntness. "I'm here, aren't I?" You replied, forcing a smile. "I really think he likes me."

Jisung and Mark exchanged another skeptical look, their eyebrows rising simultaneously.

"He definitely treats you differently." Jisung admitted.

Mark on the other hand scoffed lightly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You couldn't go after someone a little safer though?" He teased.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. "Someone like who?"

"Someone like Haechan." Mark suggested, his smirk widening.

"Haechan doesn't even like me." You shot back, shaking your head.

Mark's smile twisted slightly, awkwardness replacing his teasing. Chenle for the first time looked up from his papers and locked eyes with Jisung. A shared understanding passed between them.

"Oh, um... I don't think that's—" Mark started to say, but his words were cut off as the door swung open.

"What's up guys?" Haechan said, walking in like he owned the room. His sharp eyes swept over everyone, lingering briefly on you before moving on.

"Hey Haechan." Mark greeted, forcing a casual tone.

"Hey." You added, offering him a small smile.

Haechan nodded at you but didn't stop to engage, heading straight for Mark.

"Haechan." Mark blurted, clearly still in disbelief. "Y/n actually made it to Jaemin's house."

Haechan froze for a moment, then chuckled. "Yeah, I know." He said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I'm surprised she made it back." His gaze flickered to you.

"What's that supposed to mean Haechan?" You asked, your voice rising slightly with offense.

"Oh, I don't know." He replied coolly. "Maybe that you could've been killed. You do realize no one makes it out of Jaemin's house, right?"

You glared at him. "Well, you never told me that."

"It's almost like I did though." He snapped, his jaw tightening.

"I survived, ok? I'm fine." You crossed your arms, but he wasn't looking at you anymore. He turned his back and walked toward the counter, busying himself with some documents.

Mark mouthed something to you, gesturing toward Haechan with pleading eyes: "Make it right."

You sighed deeply, swallowing your pride. Rubbing the back of your neck, you walked up behind Haechan and gently touched his arm. "Can we talk Haechan? Please?"

He stiffened at your touch, turning his head slightly to glance at you. His eyes were dark, and unreadable. "Didn't I tell you I was done with you?" He hissed. His words stung more than you cared to admit.

"Haechan, please." You said softly. "I don't want you to be done with me. Can we just... talk?"

For a moment, his expression softened, the anger in his eyes replaced by something you couldn't quite place. He sighed. "Fine, but only for a second."

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the room, leading you down a secluded hallway. The narrow space left little room for distance, forcing you both closer than you'd been in weeks.

"What?" He asked sharply, his voice low and full with frustration.

"Haechan." You began, your voice quiet. "I'm sorry, but what did you expect me to do?"

"I don't know—maybe listen to me. Not break my trust. Not put yourself in danger." He shot back, his words tumbling out in a rush.

"I can protect myself." You said, trying to meet his gaze.

His laugh was bitter. "Y/n, Jaemin is dangerous. You seriously could've been killed. Do you have any idea how bad this night could've gone?"

"But it didn't," you countered. "I'm fine. I made it back."

"You think this is the end of it? You've put yourself in a situation you can't get out of. What happens when he gets angry at you? What happens if you piss him off—if one night he decides you're not worth his time anymore?" His voice cracked slightly, his vulnerability slipping through. "You don't get second chances with people like him."

You stepped closer, cupping his face in your hands. His breath hitched at the sudden touch, his eyes searching yours.

"Haechan." You whispered, "I know I've made mistakes. I know I've hurt you, but I trust you, and I need you to trust me too."

"It's not that I don't trust you." He murmured, his hands ghosting over your sides before he pulled them away. "I just... I can't let anything happen to you. I'll never forgive myself if I do."

You leaned in closer, your forehead brushing against his. "Nothing's going to happen. I promise, i'm right here."

For a moment, the world fell away as your lips met his. The kiss was soft, yet filled with an unspoken longing. When he pulled back his eyes were glossy, his lips slightly parted.

"Go home." He whispered.

"Haechan—"

"Go home." He repeated, shaking his head. "I'll call you a car, but you can't stay here."

Reluctantly you nodded. "Ok."

You lingered for a moment longer before turning and walking away, your heart heavy, but hopeful as you exited the casino.

══════════════════════════

It was another night that you had spent there without Haechan. It wasn't the first time, but after the talk you both had you wanted him to be there with you at least.

Taking a small break, you slipped into the back office when your phone buzzed with a notification.

"Darling, can you meet me in the private hallway, please? I know you're here."

Jaemin's text sent your heart racing. Without hesitation, you rushed to the hallway, trying to figure out what he wanted. When you arrived, you saw him standing there—with Haechan.

A smile played on Jaemin's lips as you approached. "You needed me?" You asked, glancing briefly at Haechan, whose expression was unreadable.

"Of course. I always need you princess." Jaemin replied smoothly. Then he turned to Haechan, his tone sharpening. "But I think Haechan needs you too. Isn't that right Haechan?"

"Jaemin, what are you talking about?" Haechan stammered, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips.

"Answer the question. Do you need her?" Jaemin pressed, his gaze unwavering.

Haechan's composure faltered. "Yes," he admitted softly. "I need her."

Jaemin smirked. "You know, I reviewed the security footage and saw you two here in this very hallway." His tone grew colder. "I don't like people taking what's mine Haechan, you know that."

"I'm sorry Jaemin. I didn't realize things were that serious between you two." Haechan said, glancing nervously at you.

Jaemin stepped closer. "Have you fucked her yet?"

The bluntness of the question caught Haechan off guard. "No." He replied quickly.

"But you've thought about it, haven't you?" Jaemin pressed, his voice dangerously calm. "You want to, don't you?"

Haechan hesitated, his throat dry. Jaemin had a way of knowing everything—even things you didn't fully realize about yourself.

"Yes." Haechan admitted, his voice barely audible.

"Yes what?" Jaemin demanded, tilting his head.

"Yes, I want to fuck her." Haechan said, glancing your way before looking down.

Jaemin turned his attention to you. "And what about you princess? You've thought about it too, haven't you?"

Your stomach churned. Lying wasn't an option—not with Jaemin. His piercing gaze demanded the truth.

"Yes," you confessed quietly. "I've thought about it."

Haechan glanced up at you for a second, a gleam of light shining in his eyes. Jaemin's smirk widened. "Good. Tell me, which one of us do you want more?"

Your eyes flickered to Haechan for a moment, he shook his head, looking your eyes before you answered. "You Jaemin. Of course."

He seemed satisfied with your response. "Come here princess." He commanded softly.

You stepped closer.

"Get on your knees for me."

Obediently, you sank to your knees before him, looking up with wide, vulnerable eyes.

Haechan shifted uncomfortably. "Uh... maybe I should go—"

"No." Jaemin interrupted firmly. "Stay right here."

He turned back to you. "Princess, pull my pants down. Make me feel good. Maybe I'll forgive you."

You obeyed, your hands trembling slightly as you pulled his pants and underwear down, freeing him.

"Don't act shy." He teased, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. "You've seen it before."

You took him into your mouth slowly, earning a low groan from him. His hand found its way into your hair, guiding you gently at first, then with increasing intensity.

"Fuck, just like that." He praised, his voice husky.

Haechan's breath hitched as he watched. He tried to look away but couldn't, getting more turned on by the second.

Jaemin's grip on your hair tightened as he thrust deeper, his groans growing louder. "You're doing so good baby. Keep going."

The wet sounds him in your mouth filled the hallway, along with Jaemin's moans and the occasional choked gasp from you.

Haechan's hands clenched at his sides, his arousal straining against his pants.

"I'm close." Jaemin groaned, his movements growing frantic. "Let me finish in your throat."

Moments later, he spilled into your mouth, his release warm. You swallowed, wiping your face as Jaemin smiled down at you.

"You did so well princess." He murmured, stroking your cheek. Then his gaze shifted to Haechan.

"Now it's his turn."

"What?!" Haechan exclaimed, his voice rising. "I'm not sucking your dick Jaemin!"

Jaemin rolled his eyes. "You're such a fucking idiot Haechan. Y/n, baby, go to him."

You crawled over to Haechan, your eyes searching his for permission. "Can I?" You asked softly.

Haechan's lips parted as he nodded, his breaths shallow. "Yeah... you can."

Your fingers worked at his waistband, unbuttoning and unzipping slowly. When you freed him, his dick was hard and twitching.

"Are you sure?" You whispered again.

"Yes, I'm sure." He replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

You leaned forward, taking him into your mouth. His moans were soft at first, then grew louder as you moved. His hands hovered uncertainly before settling lightly on your head.

"Fuck Y/n." He whimpered, his voice cracking with pleasure.

Jaemin watched intently, a smirk tugging at his lips.

When Haechan's hips began to buck, Jaemin interjected. "Stop."

You and Haechan froze, turning to look at him.

"I want you to fuck her." Jaemin said, his tone low and commanding. "Finish inside her."

"Man you're a pervert." Haechan muttered under his breath before turning back to you. "Do you want this?" He asked, his voice tender.

"Yes." You answered, your cheeks flushed. "More than anything."

Moments later, Haechan had you pressed against the wall, your dress pushed up and underwear discarded. His movements were tentative at first, ensuring you were comfortable, but soon his thrusts grew harder, more desperate.

"Fuck, feels so good." He moaned out in a smile. He wanted you like this for a while, and now he finally had it, even if Jaemin was there to see it.

"Gonna cum, Haechan." You moaned out, throwing your head back on the cold, hard wall.

"Me too." he whimpered, becoming undone as your walls clenched around him.

"You gonna finish deep inside me, hm? Fill me up with your seed?" You whispered out in a breathy moan.

"Fuck, yes." Haechan whimpered out, twitching inside of you as your stomach tightened.

Jaemin just watched the scene unfold, his cock twitching as he looked at the both of you moving on each other. He didn't want to admit it, but it was hotter than he imagined.

Haechan finished in you, taking a deep breath as he twitched in you for a second. You both came down from your highs, avoiding eye contact as he exited you.

"Well, that was worth watching." Jaemin spoke. "Now you two get cleaned up and meet me in the office. I have some news." You two obliged, getting cleaned up before meeting the others in the office. ══════════════════════════

The door swung open, and the room fell silent as Jaemin stepped in, his presence commanding as ever. His sharp gaze swept across everyone, warning them not to interrupt.

"Good to see everyone working so hard." Jaemin said with a faint smirk, his tone deceptively light. He sauntered toward your desk, stopping in front of you with an unreadable expression. "Y/n, stand up."

Confused, you obeyed, your eyes flickering to Haechan, who was already frowning. Mark and Chenle exchanged glances, but no one said anything.

Jaemin cleared his throat, placing a hand on your shoulder as he addressed the room. "I wanted to let you all know that Y/n will no longer be working here."

The air grew thick, you stiffening as your heartbeat pounded in your ears.

"What?" Haechan's voice was sharp, breaking the stunned silence. He stood up, his jaw clenched as he stared at Jaemin.

Jaemin smiled faintly, ignoring Haechan's outburst. "She's moving in with me."

Mark's eyes widened, and Chenle shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Jisung stared at the floor, unwilling to meet anyone's gaze. No one dared to speak out, but their unease was intense.

"Jaemin, I—" You started to say, but his hand tightened on your shoulder, silencing you.

"It's not up for discussion." Jaemin said, his gaze locking with Haechan's. "She'll be safer with me, and I'm sure you all understand that."

Haechan took a step forward, his fists clenched at his sides. "You can't just—"

"Haechan." Jaemin's voice was calm but carried an edge of warning. "It's done. You should be glad I'm looking after her."

You glanced at Haechan, seeing the hurt and anger swirling in his eyes. He looked at you with betrayal.

"Y/n." Jaemin said, his tone softening slightly as he turned to you. "Go wait for me outside. I'll join you in a moment."

You hesitated, looking back at Haechan, who shook his head slightly, as if begging you not to go, but you nodded at Jaemin and walked out of the room, your heart heavy.

The hallway was quiet, but you could hear Haechan's heavy footsteps behind you before he even said a word. You turned, catching the stormy look on his face as he approached.

"Y/n." He said, his voice low. "What the hell are you doing? You can't just go with him."

You blinked, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. "Why not? He's just being protective, right? I mean, he said I'll be safer with him." You shrugged, forcing a smile. "Makes sense to me."

Haechan stared at you like you'd just grown a second head. "Are you serious right now? You really think Jaemin's doing this out of the goodness of his heart?"

You tilted your head. "Well... yeah? I mean, he's been really sweet to me. Maybe he just, I don't know, likes me?"

Haechan let out a bitter laugh, rubbing his hand over his face. "Y/n, he doesn't like anyone. He doesn't care about anyone. You're not moving in with him because he's sweet on you—you're moving in with him because he wants to control you."

"That's a little dramatic." You said, crossing your arms. "He hasn't done anything to hurt me."

"Yet." Haechan snapped. "He hasn't done anything yet. Do you know how many people have gone to Jaemin's house and never been seen again? Do you know what kind of man he really is?"

You sighed, stepping closer and placing a hand on his arm. "Haechan, you're worrying over nothing. I'll be fine. He's not going to do anything to me—I mean, I survived last time, didn't I?"

"That's not the point!" Haechan snapped. "You're not taking this seriously, Y/n. He's dangerous. This isn't some fairytale where everything turns out fine just because you smile and say you'll be okay."

"I am okay." You insisted, your tone firm but still lighthearted. "You're just overthinking it. Jaemin likes me, and he's not going to hurt me. I mean, come on—look at me. Who would want to hurt this?" You gestured to yourself, flashing him a playful grin.

Haechan's jaw tightened, his frustration through the roof. "This isn't a joke Y/n. I'm not 'overthinking it.' I'm telling you you're walking straight into a trap, and you're acting like it's nothing."

You softened a little, stepping even closer. "Haechan, I get it. You're worried about me, and I appreciate that, but I need you to trust me. I know what I'm doing."

"No, you don't." He said flatly, his voice dropping. "You don't know anything about what you're doing. You're just... you're just trusting him like he hasn't already shown you who he is."

"I trust myself." You said, your tone turning stubborn. "And I trust you to be there for me if something does go wrong."

His eyes softened for just a moment before hardening again. "You shouldn't have to count on me to save you. You should listen to me before it gets to that point."

You shrugged, offering him a small, almost apologetic smile. "But where's the fun in that?"

"Y/n." He said sharply, stepping closer so you could see the anger and hurt in his eyes. "I'm not kidding. This isn't a game. If you go with him, I don't know if I'll be able to protect you. I don't know if I'll even see you again."

Your chest tightened at the raw emotion in his voice, but you kept your expression light. "You're being dramatic again. I'll be fine Haechan. I promise."

He stared at you for a long moment, searching your face as if trying to find some crack in your confidence. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You're impossible, you know that? If anything happens to you—"

"Nothing's going to happen." You interrupted, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. "I'll be fine. You'll see."

He didn't look convinced, but he finally stepped back, letting you go. "Just... don't forget what I said." He said quietly, pulling you into a long hug.

"I won't." You said holding him tightly, offering him one last smile before heading back to Jaemin.

As you walked away, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling that Haechan might be right—and that your stubbornness might cost you more than you were willing to admit. ══════════════════════════

At first, Jaemin's house felt almost like a dream. The kind of dream that was too extravagant to be real. He gave you the best room, stocked it with things he said he'd noticed you liked—your favorite snacks, clothes that fit perfectly, and books you'd mentioned in passing. The fridge was always full, the view from the balcony was breathtaking, and Jaemin himself was, well, everything you thought he'd be: charming, attentive, even affectionate.

For a while, it was easy to forget Haechan's warnings, but as the weeks passed little things started to feel... off.

It began with Jaemin's schedule. He started coming home later and later, offering vague excuses about "business." When you asked for more details, he'd give you a pointed look and a dismissive, "Don't worry about it."

Then there were the boundaries—ones you didn't even realize he'd set until you accidentally crossed them.

One day, you'd decided to take a walk around the neighborhood, needing some fresh air. When you got back, Jaemin was waiting for you in the living room, his posture unnerving.

"Where were you?" He asked, his tone calm but cold.

"Just outside." You said, shrugging. "I needed some fresh air."

"Next time, tell me first." He said, his voice dangerously quiet.

You blinked. "I didn't think it was a big deal—"

"It is." He interrupted, his eyes locking on yours. "You don't leave this house without telling me. Understood?"

The weight of his stare made your stomach twist, but you nodded. "Ok."

After that, things escalated.

One evening, you had gotten a call from Haechan. He wanted to check in, to make sure you were okay. Jaemin walked in while you were still on the phone, and the look on his face made your blood run cold.

"Who was that?" He asked once you hung up.

"Haechan." You said honestly. "He just wanted to see how I was doing."

Jaemin didn't say anything at first, but the tension in the room was suffocating. Finally, he leaned against the counter, his gaze sharp.

"You don't need to talk to him anymore." He said flatly.

You frowned. "What? Why not? He's my friend."

"Not anymore." Jaemin said, his voice calm but firm. "You're with me now. You don't need him."

"Jaemin, you can't just—"

"I can." He cut you off. "And I am. If you're going to be here, you follow my rules. No Haechan."

You stared at him, your heart pounding. "This is ridiculous."

"Is it?" He asked, stepping closer. "Or are you just too stubborn to admit that I know what's best for you?"

The way he towered over you, his eyes dark, made your throat tighten. You wanted to argue, to push back, but something in his demeanor stopped you.

From then on, Jaemin's behavior grew more controlling. He wanted to know where you were at all times, who you were talking to, what you were doing. If you questioned him, his responses ranged from smooth and manipulative to outright threatening.

"You're lucky I'm patient with you." He'd say with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Most people wouldn't tolerate this kind of behavior."

Or, "I'm keeping you safe. You don't realize how dangerous things could get if you don't listen to me."

Every time you thought about leaving, Jaemin's words echoed in your mind. "Where would you go? Back to Haechan? Do you think he'd be able to protect you from me? From the people I know?"

He said it so casually, but the threat was clear.

One night, you sat alone in your room, staring out at the city lights. You felt like a bird in a gilded cage—trapped, isolated, and unsure of how you'd gotten here. Haechan's warnings played on a loop in your head, and for the first time, you started to wonder if he'd been right all along. ══════════════════════════

Jaemin was in an unusually good mood when he walked into the room that evening. His face lit up with a rare excitement.

"Get dressed." He said, his tone almost playful. "We're having a dinner tonight."

You looked up from the book you were pretending to read, your heart sinking. "A dinner? With who?"

"Someone important." He said, brushing off your question with a wave of his hand. "Wear something nice. I want you to look stunning."

That familiar unease settled in your chest. Jaemin's version of "important" usually meant trouble, but you didn't argue. Instead, you forced a smile and got up, heading to the closet to find something appropriate.

An hour later, you found yourself sitting in a private dining room of an upscale restaurant, your nerves on edge. Across from you sat a man Jaemin introduced as Jeno, a name that didn't mean anything to you, but clearly held weight with Jaemin.

Jeno was polished, with a sharp suit and a demeanor that put you on edge. He and Jaemin chatted easily, their conversation littered with inside jokes and references to "opportunities" and "potential".

"So." Jaemin said suddenly, turning to you with a wide smile. "I've been telling Jeno about you. He's impressed."

You blinked, caught off guard. "Impressed with what?"

"With your adaptability." Jaemin said smoothly, leaning back in his chair. "And your loyalty. Those are rare qualities."

Jeno nodded, his gaze piercing. "Jaemin speaks highly of you. That's not something he does often."

You offered a polite smile, but your palms were sweating. Something about the way they were both looking at you made you feel like a pawn in a game you didn't understand.

After dessert, Jaemin finally got to the point. "Jeno has a proposition for us." He said, his tone casual but his eyes glinting with something sharper. "An opportunity to make more money than we've ever dreamed of. Filthy rich."

Jeno chuckled, raising his glass in agreement.

"But it's not something we can do here," Jaemin continued, his gaze fixed on you. "We would have to move. Start fresh in a different country. Somewhere far from all of this."

Your stomach dropped. "Move? Where?"

"Europe, most likely." Jeno said, his voice smooth. "The details are still being finalized, but it's an opportunity you wouldn't want to miss."

You forced a laugh, trying to mask your growing unease. "This sounds... big."

"It is." Jaemin said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "It's everything we've been working toward. This could change our lives Y/n."

Your heart was pounding, but you nodded along, not trusting yourself to say anything else.

That night, back at the house you couldn't hold it in anymore.

"You can't be serious about this." You said as Jaemin poured himself a drink.

He glanced at you, his expression already stiffening. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because it's insane." You said, your voice rising. "Moving our lives, moving to a different country... It's too much."

"It's not too much." He said, his tone sharp. "It's a chance to have everything we've ever wanted."

"Everything you've ever wanted." You corrected, crossing your arms. "You didn't even ask me if I wanted this."

Jaemin slammed his glass down on the counter, making you jump. "What do you think this has all been for? The late nights, the risks, the sacrifices? Do you think I'm doing this just for me?"

"I don't know Jaemin." You said, your voice trembling. "Sometimes it feels like you don't care what I want."

He took a step closer, his gaze dark. "You don't know what you want. That's the problem. You're scared of taking risks, of stepping out of your comfort zone, but I'm not. I see the bigger picture, and I'm trying to bring you along with me."

"I'm not scared." You shot back, though your voice lacked conviction.

"Then prove it." He said, his voice softening slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. "Trust me. I've never steered you wrong before, have I?"

You hesitated, your mind racing.

Jaemin's hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that made your heart ache. "I'm doing this for us." He said, his voice low and persuasive. "I want to build a life with you. Don't you want that too?"

Your defenses faded under the weight of his words and the intensity of his gaze. You wanted to believe him, to trust that he had your best interests at heart.

"Ok." You said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'll do it."

A slow satisfied smile spread across his face. "That's my girl."

But as he pulled you into his arms, a pit of unease settled in your stomach. ══════════════════════════ The Europe deal was finalized. Jaemin had been talking about it all morning, logistics and plans, leaving no room for hesitation. His excitement was infectious, but you couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort in your chest.

As he left to finalize more details with Jeno, you stood in the lavish bedroom he had claimed as yours and stared at your phone. It was time. You had texted Haechan.

"Can you come over?"

It took a moment before the three dots appeared on the screen.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

You hesitated. Telling him the truth felt too dangerous, but you couldn't lie to him either.

"I'm fine. Just come. I'll send the address."

"I'm on my way. Don't ring the doorbell? Got it, but you're scaring me."

You smiled faintly, shaking your head. That was so like Haechan—always worrying about you, always trying to fix things.

The minutes ticked by slowly after you sent him the address. Your heart pounded in your chest, equal parts excitement and dread. You knew Jaemin would be dangerous if you didn't execute things right, but you couldn't bring yourself to care, it was time.

When you finally heard the soft knock on the balcony door, you exhaled sharply and hurried over to open it. Haechan stepped inside, his eyes immediately scanning your face.

"You scared me." He said, his voice low but firm. "Why did you call me here?"

You didn't answer right away. Instead, you grabbed his wrist and led him deeper into the room, shutting the door firmly behind you.

"Y/n, talk to me. You stopped talking to me before, so why now?" He urged, his brows furrowed.

Before you could answer, you both froze. The sound of heavy footsteps thundered down the hall, followed by the unmistakable voice of Jaemin.

"Y/n?" His tone was sharp, suspicious. You could hear the anger simmering beneath it. "What the hell is going on in there? Open the door."

Haechan's eyes widened, but you simply smiled, reaching up to lock the door.

"Y/n." Jaemin growled from the other side, rattling the handle. "Open this door right now."

"Sit down." You murmured to Haechan, your tone almost playful.

"What?!" He hissed, his panic barely contained.

"Sit down." You repeated, your hand on his chest as you pushed him gently back onto the bed.

"Y/n, I swear to God, if you don't open this door—" Jaemin's voice rose, his fist banging against the wood.

You ignored him entirely, your focus solely on Haechan. His eyes darted nervously to the door, but when your lips met his, all his resistance melted away.

"Are you seriously doing this right now?" He whispered against your lips, his voice a mix of disbelief and desire.

"I missed you." You murmured, climbing onto his lap, feeling the warmth radiate from his body.

The banging on the door grew louder, Jaemin's voice a scream now. "Y/n, I'm not playing games with you. Open this damn door!"

But you didn't care. For the first time in months, you felt free.

"Y/n, I don't think this is the time. We have to get out of here." Haechan muttered, a hint of concern lacing his words.

"Do you not miss me too?" You asked, your voice soft, yet teasing as you pushed him down onto his back, your body hovering over him.

"Of course I miss you." He responded, his breath hitching as he gazed into your eyes.

"Then shut up and kiss me." You replied, your heart racing as you leaned in, capturing his lips with yours once more.

When his lips met yours, it was as if the world outside ceased to exist. The frantic knocking and Jaemin's angry shouts faded into the background.

Haechan wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you as close as he could. You fumbled with the button of his jeans, unzipping them with trembling fingers as your lips remained locked together, lost in each other.

With a swift motion, you pulled down his pants and underwear, and he mirrored your actions, shedding your own clothes in a flurry of urgency and desire.

He sat up, holding you securely in his lap as you sank down onto him, both of you letting out a long awaited moan that lingered in the air.

"Fuck, I miss you so much." He whimpered, breaking the kiss to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, eyes filled with a mix of passion and lust.

"I missed you too baby. I told you I'd be fine." You smiled, leaning into him again, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours.

As you began to move, the moans that escaped your lips grew louder, a deliberate tease for Jaemin outside, who was still banging on the door.

"I'm almost there." You moaned, breaking the kiss and resting your head in the crook of his neck, feeling the tension coil tightly in your stomach as you clenched around him.

"Me too." He whispered, his voice strained with pleasure. He held you tightly as you both rode out your highs together, lost in a world that was just the two of you.

In that moment, nothing else mattered—no angry knocks, no outside world—just the intoxicating connection between you and Haechan. ══════════════════════════

"Haechan, you have to go." You whispered, removing yourself from on top of him.

"Y/n, this is insane." He whispered fiercely, his eyes wide with fear and frustration. "We need to leave together. He's going to kill you!"

You stepped closer to him, your hands brushing his as you looked into his panicked eyes. "No Haechan. You need to leave. Go to the casino and wait for me there. I'll handle this."

"Handle this? Y/n, you're not listening! You can't face Jaemin alone!" His voice cracked as he spoke with despair.

You placed a hand on his cheek, trying to calm him. "I know you're scared. I am too, but I need you to trust me ok? I've got this."

His jaw clenched, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. "Let me be the one to face him. Please. If anyone's going to take the risk—"

"No." You cut him off firmly. "This is my fight Haechan. I need you to leave now. If you stay, you'll only make things worse."

He stared at you, his lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, he let out a shaky breath and nodded. "Fine, but if you're not at the casino in an hour I'm coming back for you. I mean it."

You gave him a small reassuring smile. "I'll be there."

Reluctantly he climbed over the balcony railing, glancing back at you one last time before disappearing.

You turned back to the door, unlocking it and stepping aside just as Jaemin stormed in, his eyes full of fury. He scanned the room quickly, his gaze snapping to you.

"Where is he?" He demanded, his voice low.

"He's gone." You said calmly, crossing your arms.

Jaemin's expression darkened, and in a swift motion, he pulled a gun from the back of his waistband, pointing it directly at you.

"Don't lie to me." He growled.

Your heart pounded, but you didn't flinch. Instead, you stepped forward, closing the gap between you and the barrel of the gun. "Shoot me then." You said, your voice steady.

Jaemin's hand trembled, the gun shaking slightly as he stared at you in disbelief. "You think I won't?"

"I think you won't." You said, your eyes locked on his. "Because you need me."

For a moment, he stood frozen, the weight of your words sinking in. Then with a frustrated growl he lowered the gun, tossing it onto a nearby chair.

"Why do you always have to make things so difficult?" He snapped, running a hand through his hair. "I'm trying to protect you—to take care of you. Don't you see that?"

You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. "Protect me? Jaemin the only person you care about protecting is yourself. All of this—Europe, the business—it's not about us. It's about you and your greed."

"You're wrong." He insisted, stepping closer. His voice softened, dripping with fake sincerity. "We could have everything together Y/n. Power, money, freedom. Just say yes and I'll give you the world."

But weren't falling for it. You stepped back, your expression cold. "No Jaemin. Here's what's going to happen. You're going to Europe, transfer all your assets to the casino and you're signing it over to Haechan."

His face twisted in anger. "Do you think I'm stupid? Do you really think I'd give everything up because you asked me to?"

He stepped closer, his tone turning darker. "If you think you can threaten me you're wrong. I'll kill you, and Haechan too."

You smirked, unbothered by his threats. "You won't touch either of usJaemin. Because if anything happens to me, there are people who will make sure you pay for it. Dirty cops, powerful people. They'll come for you—and only you."

His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. "You're bluffing."

"Am I?" You challenged. "Go ahead. Try me. You'll find out just how serious I am."

For the first time, Jaemin hesitated, the confidence in his demeanor fading. He stared at you, his mind clearly racing.

"You're lucky I'm keeping you alive." You said, your voice low and sharp. "Because you didn't have the decency to do the same."

His brows furrowed in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"

You tilted your head, your smirk growing. "Do you seriously not remember my face?"

Jaemin's expression froze. For a moment, his mask slipped, and you saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes, but just as quickly he composed himself, his lips curling into a bitter smile.

"I don't know how I could forget." He said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Guess I didn't look that deep in your eyes."

You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. "Well, you should've because now those eyes are the last thing you'll ever underestimate."

Jaemin's smirk fell, and for the first time, you felt the power shift entirely into your hands. ══════════════════════════

The casino buzzed with its usual energy, but all eyes turned to the center of the room when Jaemin strode in with you at his side. He walked with purpose, his expression a mix of authority and resignation. The usual crowd. Mark, Haechan, Jisung, Chenle, paused their work to watch as Jaemin climbed onto the small stage at the front of the room.

"I have an announcement to make." Jaemin began, his voice carrying across the space. "I am resigning and stepping away from the business. I'll be signing over the casino to Haechan, and after today you'll never see me again."

The room erupted in stunned murmurs. Jisung's jaw dropped, Chenle stared in disbelief, and Haechan blinked rapidly, trying to process what he just heard.

"You're signing it over to me?" Haechan asked.

Jaemin nodded. "Yes. I've decided that you're the best fit to take over."

Haechan shook his head, his lips pressed into a thin line. "I don't want it. Mark deserves it more than anyone. He's the one who's been running this place while the rest of us deal with... other things."

Mark's eyes widened. "Haechan...what?"

"You're the one who works the hardest." Haechan insisted. "This place wouldn't even function without you. You should take it."

Jaemin turned to you, his brows knitting together. "What do you think?"

You gave a small shrug, your expression calm. "That's fine with me."

Without further argument, Jaemin stepped down and signed the paperwork to transfer permanent ownership to Mark. The room was silent as he set down the pen and turned to face everyone.

"Guess that's it." Jaemin said, his voice tinged with something like relief. He looked at you, his smirk returning. "Can I at least get a kiss goodbye princess?"

You walked up to him, leaning in as if you were going to fulfill his request. Instead you whispered in his ear. "Fuck you." Before planting a quick kiss on his cheek. Stepping back, you waved with an exaggerated flourish.

"Goodbye Jaemin. Don't come back."

Jaemin chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You're a piece of work." With that he turned and left the casino, disappearing into the night for good.

Mark looked dazed, clutching the paperwork like he couldn't believe what just happened.

Haechan rushed to you, pulling you into a tight hug. "You're okay, I can't believe you pulled this off. How did you even do it?"

Chenle leaned against the counter, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, what did you do? Spill."

You gave him a sly smile. "That's a secret."

Jisung shrugged. "That's fine. We're just glad you're back."

The group laughed, but the mood shifted when you cleared your throat. "Actually... I'm going back home."

The laughter stopped, and everyone stared at you.

"What?" Haechan asked, his voice low.

"I need to get away from all this." You said softly. "It's been... a lot. I just need some time to figure things out."

The room was quiet for a moment before Mark nodded. "We get it. You've been through so much. You deserve to take care of yourself."

Everyone murmured their agreement, but Haechan looked crushed. "You're leaving again? Y/n come on. You dropped out of school anyway—why not stay? Stay with me."

You gave him a small smile, touching his arm. "I need to do this Haechan. Please understand."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine, but we're driving to your apartment to get your stuff. I'm not letting you leave without spending time with you first."

You grinned. "Deal, but... can I drive your car?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You want to drive my car?"

"Yeah." You said grinning.

He hesitated, then handed you the keys with a playful eye roll. "Fine, don't crash it."

The drive to your apartment was smooth, the atmosphere between you and Haechan lighter than it had been in days. Once inside, the two of you collapsed onto the couch, the worry finally melting away.

Haechan leaned back, looking at you curiously. "Wait... How did you know how to get to the casino by yourself? I mean yeah, we've driven there a lot, but you can't even remember how to get to my place half the time."

Your smile fell for a moment, and you shifted in your seat. "If I tell you the truth, don't get mad, ok?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, a teasing edge to his voice. "What did you do Y/n?" ══════════════════════════

The apartment was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioning. Haechan stared at you from the couch, his brows furrowed with curiosity and confusion.

You took a deep breath, suddenly feeling the weight of the secret you'd carried for so long. You sat next to him, avoiding his gaze as you started.

"When I was 18 I lived in another state with my parents." You began, your voice soft but steady. "They were... rich. Very rich, but it wasn't clean money. They were involved in something shady, but they never told me what it was. I didn't ask—I didn't want to know."

Haechan's expression softened as he listened, sensing the shift in your tone.

"One night, I was in my room when I heard gunshots. I froze, I didn't know what to do. I peeked out of my door, and... I saw them. My parents lying there on the floor... dead."

Haechan's eyes widened, and his hand instinctively reached for yours.

"There were three men." You continued. "They were cleaning up the mess, moving things around, making it look like it didn't happen there, and then I saw him. The one in charge, and I remember his face so clearly... Jaemin."

He leaned back stunned. "Jaemin?"

You nodded. "I'll never forget that face. The way he looked so calm, so... collected. He even sat at my large family photo, looked at us smiling together and didn't care. I didn't know what to do so I ran. I left the state, and I spent months trying to figure out who he was and what my parents were involved in. That's how I found out about the underground casino."

Haechan stayed silent, his jaw tightening as he processed your words.

"I found out where it was and applied to a college nearby. I needed to get close to Jaemin, but I couldn't just walk into his life. So, I went to the casino to check it out. At first, I thought I had the wrong place. It looked like an ordinary gas station."

You gave a small, bitter laugh. "I was ready to call the cops and let them handle it, but then... by pure chance. I saw someone leaving through the back behind the beaded curtains... I saw you."

Haechan stiffened, realization dawning on him. "Wait... me?"

You nodded again. "I recognized you later at school. We had classes together, and I knew if I wanted in, I had to get close to you. So, I told you this elaborate story about being broke and needing money for tuition. I even thought you'd get suspicious because of my nice apartment, but you didn't. You felt sorry for me, and you trusted me. That's when you introduced me to the casino— you were my way in."

He blinked, his expression a mix of hurt and disbelief. "So... you used me."

"It wasn't like that." You said quickly, placing a hand on his arm. "At first yes, it was about Jaemin. The plan was always to take him down, but then I got to know you. I started to care about you a lot."

Haechan's jaw tightened, but he didn't pull away. "What's going to happen to Jaemin?"

"When he gets to Europe, he's going to be arrested. I've been working with people—dirty cops, private investigators. I made sure that he'll be broke, with no way to come back here or rebuild. Everyone here will be fine. The business is safe, and so are you."

Haechan looked down, shaking his head. "You planned all of this... from the beginning?"

"Yes." You admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "I had to. He destroyed my family. But I promise you... I never meant to hurt you."

He was silent for a long moment before finally looking at you. "So what now? You're just... leaving?"

"I have to." You said softly. "This isn't my world. I've done what I needed to do. I need to go back home, to where I belong. But..." You hesitated, looking into his eyes. "If you want... you could come with me."

Haechan's eyes widened. "You're serious?"

"I'm serious." You said with a small smile. "Come with me, stay with me. We can leave all of this behind and start over."

He let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing as he processed your words. "Ok." He said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Let's go."

The two of you packed up your things, leaving behind the chaos of the casino and everything it represented. Weeks later, you found yourselves in your home state, in a house far removed from the shadows of your past.

Haechan stood on the balcony, looking out at the peaceful view. "You know." He said, glancing back at you, "I never thought I'd end up here— with you."

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his waist. "Me neither, but I'm glad we did."

He turned to you, his expression serious. "No more secret ok?"

"No more secrets." You promised.

And for the first time in a long time, you both felt free.

══════════════════════════

mafiadad5

178 notes · View notes

kamiversee · 2 days ago

Text

𓆩 Crown of Sin 𓆪

Segment I Chapter: Three

❀ ~ Synopsis > In which you’re a princess who's given a total of six months to converge & inaugurate a solid plan secure enough to rid you of your fated marriage arrangements to Naoya Zenin.

❀ ~ Content > language, heavy tension all over the place, lingering touches, stolen glances, taunting, teasing, flirting, etc.

❀ ~ Word Count > 5k

❀ ~ Pairings > jjk men & women x f!reader.

{ chapters m!list }

——Harems are hard work, you know that much from the extensive research you’ve conducted over the years. They were always intriguing to you, the way a man or woman would go around collecting multiple lovers for themself, reasons on why varying from person to person. In your case, you’d like to escape the engagement you’ve found yourself in.

So the first thing you do the next day you wake up, on day two of being an engaged woman, is parade around your home in preparation to leave. Your parents tried to subtly convince you to stay and instead send out letters during breakfast but you brushed off each advance they made on the matter.

You had your heart fully set on this plan. It’s going to work, it has to. Whether or not you stay this encouraged will depend entirely on your first target. He doesn’t know it yet but Gojo will set the mood for the rest of your travels. Should things with him go poorly, you may just turn around and head right back home to accept your fate.

But deep down inside, you know things will go well. Call this cliche but honestly, what’s the worst thing that can happen?

With that mindset, and shortly after breakfast with your parents concluded, you had two people you needed to speak with privately before you left. Carriages were already being prepared for you so you didn’t have much time.

The first person you set out to talk to privately was your knight. She was made aware of the details of your plan first thing yesterday alongside Utahime since both of them are typically the first people you greet each morning.

Currently, you and Yuki pace down a lengthy corridor with no set destination in mind.

“We should hurry, y’know,” Yuki warns as she walks alongside you, “People will be lookin’ for you to leave soon.”

You wave her warnings off dismissively, “I’ve got an hour at the least. That, and there are a few goodbyes I should like to make before I depart.”

Your knight hums. “To who? You’ve given most of your goodbyes already.”

“Okay well, I have one more goodbye I need to make,” You tell her before turning down another hall. “Right after this, I suppose…”

Yuki raises a brow, still following you closely, “That doesn’t answer my question.”

You ignore her and point to a door not too far off, “There’s a study down this way, yes?”

Her eyes squint to you, “What business would you have with a study at this time? And why do you keep avoiding my—”

Before she can get the rest of her questions out, you’re grabbing a sudden hold of your wrist and dragging her off into that room you’d pointed to. Inside, you shut the door quickly and find yourself alone with Yuki in a vacant, almost abandoned, study.

She looks as confused as ever while she takes in her surroundings, unsure of why you pulled her in here entirely. “You’re acting strange, princess,” Yuki tells you as she folds her arms.

You’d released her wrist and allowed her a moment of space as you stayed by the door for a second, listening closely to something. “Shhh,” You hush.

Yuki throws her hands up defensively for a second.

A couple of seconds pass before you pull away from the door with a smile and turn to her. She’s got this expectant look plastered all over her face, clearly itching for you to tell her what you’re up to. You step nice and close to her and then take her hands into your own.

Yuki’s gaze falls down to the sudden connection and although she’s got a smile on her face, her eyebrows furrow in a quick meet of confusion. “Is everything alright?” She asks you cautiously.

You nod, “Of course. I just needed a moment alone with you.”

“Were we not alone in the hall moments ago?” She huffs fondly.

“We were but,” You glance off to the side with a shrug, “Anyone could’ve passed by at any given moment.”

She nods at that, her eyes yet to leave your hands holding onto hers so dearly. “Right… So, what did you need this privacy for?”

You lean closer and whisper, “I’ve got something for you.”

“For me? Now?? Why?”

“Why does everyone always have a million and one questions for me,” You sigh, moving to the left pocket of her pants for a moment. You’d asked her to hold something for you earlier in the day and instructed her not to look at it without your permission so, now you pull the item out and hand it to her.

Her eyes follow your every move and then she takes the slip of paper you hand her. “What’s this?”

A smile graces your face, “Open it and find out, silly.”

“You could just tell me, it would save so much time…” She utters to herself as her fingers work the folded-up piece of paper open. Her eyes rake over the paper in one fell swoop before she looks at you, “Why did you hand this to me?”

You’re still beaming, so much so that it nearly makes her nervous. Nearly. “Why do you think?” You ask her almost sarcastically.

“It’s…” Her lashes flutter in clear disbelief whilst she looks over the paper once more, “An invitation to your harem, my lady.”

Even as she says it out loud, Yuki can’t quite believe what she’s holding. Nor can she really wrap her head around why you’ve chosen her first—or at all, for that matter. For a minute or two, she’s unable to do anything more than look back and forth from the paper in her hands to you, constantly finding her gaze drifting downward on each.

“Sooo….” You eventually crack the silence and lean forward without step.

Yuki clears her throat and her brows tense, “You are inviting me.”

You hum, “Mhm!”

Finally, she lets her sights lift fully and settle firmly onto you. “Why?” Yuki asks.

You’re unsure of what it is exactly about her sudden unwavering gaze but it makes your feet shift against the floor slightly, a motion of which doesn’t go unnoticed by your hyper-aware knight. Every faint movement of yours never seems to miss her eye but now it feels… different? It’s almost as though a new light had been cast on you instead of the natural lighting that currently dawns on the study you occupy.

Yuki’s eyes widen with how long it takes you to reply to her and her left foot unconsciously moves as a step closer to you is taken. It was weird but, the mere request of her to join your harem… first, has the knight seeing you differently in a way that is more familiar than ever. Per her own thoughts, it is like gazing upon you for the first time.

The windows to this study are rather large and the light bounces off of the beautiful furniture surrounding the two of you so, maybe it’s a shift of the outside sun that causes you to glow just a bit brighter in her eyes than before. It truly was like seeing you for the first time all over again. Hell, her lips twitch in thought and suddenly she’s recalling the way her breath escaped her and never returned on the day she’d first seen you.

Now, as you stand before her all these years later, proclaiming to desire her, that feeling returns.

Looking away entirely, “...Does it matter why?” Your voice soon hits her ears again and she barely recovers her recently escaped breath.

Yuki’s right foot takes that last step and she answers you faster than she can even process your words, “Yes.”

“Because I want you,” You practically breathe out once you become overly aware of how close she’d gotten, slowly turning your head to look her in the eye, and swallowing thickly. “I-In my harem, I mean.”

Her features soften and she smiles, the sight enough to make you beyond anxious. “Hah,” Your knight breathes.

Taking another gulp to compose yourself, “Sooo, what do you say?”

Yuki shrugs, “I’m your knight. Joining this would mean that you and I are-, or, would be intimate.”

You stare instead of replying.

To which a breathy laugh of disbelief leaves her lips. Then, as her next question is asked, you notice her tone has changed, “You wish to be intimate with me?”

“I wish for you to join my harem,” You divert with a nervous smile.

Yuki tilts her head and it’s right then that you realize she knows you’re feeling some sort of anxiousness right now, “That doesn’t answer my question.”

You sigh heavily and nearly stumble over your words again, “I-Intimacy comes with joining the harem so—”

“If I may be so bold,” She interrupts, taking a step forward that only causes your back to meet a wall. “Princess, please do not avoid my questions and give me a straight answer.”

“I believe my answer would be anything but ‘straight’.” You tease. Perhaps dragging her into this room alone like this wasn’t the best idea. Maybe you should’ve just told her to shuffle through her pocket on her own time…

“You jest,” Yuki whispers, now leaning forward, “But I need to know if you are serious.”

There’s a slight shake of your head, “Why wouldn’t I be…?”

She ignores your constant avoidance, “I won’t join unless you answer.”

“I…” You trail off entirely and your mind decides then that it’s a good time to blank on you. Thus, you are left at a loss for words and have no answer to her question whatsoever. It is quite hard to find anything to say to a woman of Yuki’s beauty who stands so closely to you and stares at you as if you were bliss personified. “What uh, what was the question again?” You eventually squeak out.

Gently, Yuki allows every word of hers to leave her lips in a way that has you looking down to watch their departure from her tongue, “Do you wish to be intimate with me?”

You’ve had your fair secret glances at her mouth before but now that you find yourself so close, it is difficult to organize your thoughts properly, “Well—”

“Yes,” She cuts off, tipping her head to the opposing side to gain your eyes on hers again, “Or no, princess.”

You first clear your throat and then nod, “Yes.”

At that, Yuki lets herself look downwards on your face and she sighs, “Then I will join.”

“O-Okay..” You stutter, noticing where her eyes have fallen.

She doesn’t say anything and neither do you. Instead, the two of you just stand still for a while and take in one another’s faces. In that time, you both creep closer to one another and you only snap out of your daze of appreciation when Yuki’s hand meets your waist and your entire body decides to react.

A gasp leaves your throat, your torso moves into her touch, and your eyes flutter in surprise at the small touch.

And to top it all off, Yuki finds herself inches away from your lips whispering, “You are nervous, why?”

You force a smile and try your best to remain composed, “We are quite close, Lady Tsukumo.”

“We could…” She tips nearer, “Be so much closer.”

If your breath hadn’t been lost before then it damn sure is now because good lord is the proximity alone enough to make you long for that fated connection of her lips to your own. She’s hardly laid a finger on you and yet you find yourself a wreck within your mind. Words fail you entirely and all you’re capable of doing in that moment is stare at her.

“Princess,” Yuki breathes out, her soft tone hitting the skin of your lips given how close she is. Then, her other hand lifts to your chin and she urges your head further up, nearly causing your skin to brush over hers. “Can I…”

You’re not clueless, you know what she wants to ask for. And yet, she just lets her words fade off, never deciding to finish that request of hers, which only leaves you hanging off of her every inhale and exhale.

Luckily for you, you’re both interrupted right then by a knock on the study’s door. Both of you flinch and she blinks out of whatever stupor just came over her, soon turning her head to look at the door and then clearing her throat. “Yeah-, yes?” She coughs out.

“Is Her Highness in there with you?” The voice of a palace guard questions from the other side of the door. He must’ve seen you two duck off into this room earlier.

Yuki scoffs and looks to you once more, “Yeah,” She replies as she slips her thumb upward and past your chin, letting her fingertip rub along the outline of your bottom lip. “She’s riiight here.”

Your brows furrow and you whisper as you realize what your knight just pulled, “...You teased me.”

She smirks and weighs the pad of her thumb against your bottom lip, tugging it down slightly, and then leaning in to match your tone one last time, “You’ve been teasing me for as long as I can remember.”

“I–”

“Most of the carriages are ready to go, my lady.” That same voice from before interrupts again, “I believe they are packing your last one up but, you should make haste in getting to them soon.”

You puff out a long sigh and pry yourself away from Yuki’s grasp, “I will be out there in a bit. Tell them I have someone I need to speak to before I leave.”

You can’t see it but the guard bows from beyond the door, “Yes ma’am.”

The sound of departing footsteps can be heard and once the sound discontinues, Yuki starts laughing to herself, prompting you to glance over to her. She hasn’t moved an inch from where she almost kissed you but you notice she’s got a hand over her mouth.

You frown, “What’s so funny?”

“Shoulda’ seen the look on your face,” The woman snorts, “Hah. I didn’t know you could make such an expression.”

“What are you talking about??” You question further.

She motions to her face, “You were so flustered.”

With a roll of your eyes, you let off a scoff, “I was not.”

“Oh please, it’s no use to lie.” Yuki argues as she turns to meet your gaze, “Admit it, cutie, you were nervous.”

Your lashes begin to bat in pure and utter disbelief, “I don’t get ‘nervous’.”

At first, she merely hums in response. But when she starts walking toward you again, you end up looking away from her. Yuki now stands directly behind you and leans over your shoulder to tease, “Right, okay. So,” Her hands find your waist and her voice hits the crown of your ear, “This, is fine, yes?”

You try laughing it off as if her touch is no big deal, “Perfectly.”

Then her hands slide up and tread dangerously close to your chest. All while she’s grinning from ear to ear, “And this?”

You’re pretty sure you were unable to hide the hitch in your breathing but hopefully, it goes unnoticed (it doesn’t). “Yuki.” You say rather firmly.

Her lips, as soft as ever, grave the tip of your ear, “Yes… princess?” And suddenly your title no longer sounds like a name of respect and hierarchy, but a nickname instead.

Finally standing your ground again, you just barely manage to lift your head up to its normal hold, regain your posture, and come to your senses. “I invite you into my harem and suddenly you find yourself unable to keep your hands off me?”

Her hands freeze against your sides and then her head dips down. You’d turn to get a nice look at her and the face she’s making right now but the sensation of her mouth grazing your neck drives you right back into that mild frenzy again. Carefully, Yuki inches forward with her head and you release a shaky breath the moment her lips make raw contact with your neck.

Then, she whispers right against you, “I’ve been holding back for a few years now…”

Your jaw falls open and you choke, finding yourself clueless beyond belief, “What?”

Yuki snaps out of whatever came over her there and tugs herself back a bit. Her eyes proceed to squeeze shut and instead of answering you right away, she just inhales deeply—unintentionally getting a strong whiff of your perfume. Behind her shut lids, and hidden from you, her eyes so graciously roll back. Then her grip on your waist tightens, her lips part again, a faint noise nearly escapes her throat, and—

She snatches her head away from your neck entirely and her hands follow suit with your sides. Yuki stumbles back a few inches from you and clears her throat, “W-What?” She stammers.

You start turning to look at her but your motion comes to an abrupt end when she walks past you, “Yuki, what did you say—”

“I’m gonna go ahead and sign this now before I do anything uh…” She tugs that invitation of yours out of her pocket again and waves it in the air, “Yeah.” Her statement ends there, leaving you wondering what exactly just transpired.

You blink. “Are you okay?”

She’s made her way over to a desk and is busy scrambling for a pen to finally sign her name. For a while, she pays no mind to your concern and eventually locates a pen, quickly printing her name where it’s required. Once done, she acquits a tremulous sigh and spins to hold out the signed invitation—confirming her entry into your harem as the first member.

Barely any more words are exchanged between you and her after that. You end up taking the signed invitation with a smile and quiet thank you, to which she soon bows to you. Then, not even a second later, Yuki hurries toward the door to leave this secluded area.

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

Neither of you addressed what went down in that study after you both left. The walk toward the last person you wish to say bye to is conducted in silence. It’s not exactly awkward or anything, just tense. You can’t define what kind of tension lies between you and your knight but hey, at least she joined your harem…

It feels nice to walk next to her knowing that she’s a part of something you’ll come to hold very dear to your heart. When you really think about it, you could touch her in any way at any given moment and no one would bat an eye. Your eyes can linger on her as you please and not a soul would find it scandalous. After all, your eyes travel over to her as you think, simply gazing at her for a while brings you deep satisfaction.

You’re quite proud to have someone as gorgeous as her as your knight. It’s like a silent compliment to you. People do say that the company you keep is a direct reflection of your character.

With that, a smile spreads across your face and your pace down the hall picks up a bit. If things with Yuki went well, surely things with everyone else will too.

Before you know it, you and your knight find yourself approaching your final destination for the time being. The last stop before you head outside to leave your kingdom entirely, to the final person you wish to say goodbye to, and—

“The infirmary, my lady?” Yuki asks cautiously as she comes to a stop just beside you and stares at the door in front of you both.

You wave a hand out, “Stay here while I head in, this’ll only take a second.”

“But—”

And as usual, before Yuki can spit out any sort of protest, you’re disappearing behind those doors and leaving her alone in the hall. She remains still for a moment before shrugging the entire thing off and turning to properly guard the doors as she typically does.

Meanwhile, as soon as you enter the room, the person you’d been looking to say bye to comes immediately into view. Long brown hair falling down past her shoulders, soft brown eyes flickering up to meet you as soon as you walk in—with those tired bags decorating the area just beneath them, there sits Shoko Ieiri in all her glory.

She blinks more than a few times to take in the fact that it’s really you standing there. Then her hands are moving and she shuffling papers across her desk for a moment as a pen falls from between her fingers, “Oh shit-,” She breathes out, quickly slapping a hand over her mouth seconds later, “I-I wasn’t expecting you to be here today, your highness. God, I–”

“It’s okay,” You murmur gently with a smile that makes her hands slow to an easy halt from their scrambling to straighten up. “Been a while, huh?”

Shoko’s all wide-eyed for a minute, watching as you look elsewhere and take in her workspace. You walk over to some cabinets and scan your eyes over just about everything as curious as ever. Eventually, she nods, “Yeah, yeah it has… Still as nosy as ever, I see.” She teases lightheartedly.

You turn to her and notice she’s stood up. “What can I say, it’s been so long since I’ve been in here.”

“Mhm,” She hums, carefully rounding her desk to approach you. “So what uh, brings you in here now? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

“Well, I’m not sure if you’ve heard but…” Your voice fades as you ponder on how you should go about explaining things to her.

“You leave today, right? For some harem thing..?”

Well, that saves you an explanation, “Yeah.”

“Well, everyone knows about that. I’m still confused as to why you stopped here though. You should be leaving, I saw the carriages and everything—”

“Do you wanna come with me?” You blurt out.

She blinks, “Pardon?”

“I’ll be gone for a month or so and… Well, I’m traveling to other nations that I haven’t been to in years and I-, well, y’know anything could happen during the journey so I was just wondering if you wanted to accompany me because you’re the only person I trust to tend to my wounds properly, in the event that I got any—”

Shoko cuts you off with a gentle whisper of your name. Not your title as princess, not any sort of honorific, just… your name. By the time you look at her again, she’s leaned against the wall nearest to you with her arms crossed and her head angled to the right.

It’s then that you recall why exactly you came to see her. Not only to try convincing her to travel with you but, also to see a childhood friend again. Rarely anyone has the pleasure of addressing you by your name but Shoko? Your name sounds more than perfect falling from her tongue.

“While I enjoy your nervous rambles,” She starts off, lips curving into that typical tired grin of hers, “You could’ve just said you wanted to travel with me, sweets. And while I’d love to do exactly that… It’s a bit last minute of you to come and ask me, doncha’ think?”

You chuckle. “The trip itself was rather last minute so, apologies if I’m putting you in a difficult position here.”

“Mh. Well,” She pushes herself off of the wall and shrugs, “I’m not sure if I’d be able to pack in time.”

Your brows meet in confusion, “Whatever you’d have to pack that’s not in this room, I assure you I can purchase it for you on this trip, Shoko. I just want you to come with me.”

Shoko lets out a huff and glances elsewhere, “Don’t you already have a doctor accompanying you?”

You tilt your head at the woman, picking up on her clear silent refusal to join you. Resulting in a knowing grin sparking across your face, “If you don’t want to come, you can just tell me, y’know.”

“That’s the thing. I’m not sure how I feel following you along while you collect men for your personal pleasure,” Shoko says as she clasps her hands together behind her back and paces toward you slightly.

“Oh.” You chirp.

“Yeah, ‘oh’.” She scoffs and her feet come to a stop just a mere step away from you, her eyes dragging across the room before landing on you again, “I know it’s ‘been a while’ but surely you haven’t forgotten the feelings I possess for you?” Your friend asks you, her tone softened.

You swallow at the recollection, “I haven’t. But, this isn’t just for pleasure Shoko, I’m trying to—”

“I’ve heard.” She interrupts, “You wanna escape your marriage. But with all due respect, princess, I think I’ll stay here while you do that.”

A deep feeling of disappointment rushes through you and you quickly find your gaze becoming rather downcast. You had high hopes of her telling you she’d join you and now…

“I know you’re not used to people declining your offers or telling you no but, y’know me.” Shoko hums—doing that thing you know her to do where she’ll try to lighten your mood with a gentle reiteration of the truth. “I will stay here and patiently await your return, as I always do. Should you come back with any wounds, even one of the heart, I’ll be right here to patch ya’ up…”

A pout tugs at your lips before you know it and in come those pleading irises of yours, “Sho’.”

“Awh, don’t ‘Sho’ meee, you’ll make me feel bad.” She mocks, taking a hand and placing it on your cheek as she wipes a soft thumb under your left eye.

You lean into her touch and place your hand over hers, “I really do want you to come with me.”

Shoko smiles, “I know. But someone’s gotta teach you a thing or two about not always getting what you want, right?”

“I guess…”

For a moment, she just comforts you with that easing caress under your eye but once she sees that it’s doing little to nothing for you, she rolls her eyes and strips her hand away.

“C’mere,” Shoko mutters before moving to pull you into a warm hug. Her arms hold onto you tightly and you rest your head on her shoulder, “You’ll be fine without me. It’s just a month, yeah? You’ve gone for longer.”

You sigh, “...Not like this.”

“Hey,” Her hands move again and meet your cheeks, cupping your face in her gloved palms. You practically melt into her but her firm tone keeps you grounded for the most part, “Tell Gojo I said hey when you see him?”

You scoff, smiling a little, “You could come and say hey to him yourself.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Shoko please?” If not for the plead leaving your lips, it was definitely escaping the look on your face, “You know I’m not one to beg.”

“We’ve past encounters that say otherwise, pretty girl.” Shoko teases, “I’m serious about this though, I’m not sure how long I could stomach a trip like that. So,” Her hands drop to yours before she raises your fingers to her lips and plants a kiss across your knuckles, “Just promise me you’ll return in one piece?”

You sigh, “I promise.”

To which she smiles, fully. “Atta’ girl. Now go on before your knight comes in yellin’ at me like old times.”

It’s then that you decide to accept defeat. As much as you longed for her to accompany you, it seems there’s no convincing her. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll see you first thing when I come back.” You tell her while the two of you part ways.

Shoko sends you a wink, “You better, doctor’s orders.”

“Yes ma’am.” You end up waving her off, disappearing behind the same doors you came in from, and leaving her to herself.

The second you’re gone, Shoko tosses her head back and stares up at her ceiling. Raking her hands through her hair, she groans at the way she handled that situation for reasons unknown to you. Then she wipes over her face, stopping at her eyes in an attempt to rub the weariness away.

When that proves to be unsuccessful, she turns back to her desk and kicks over a small trashcan nearby. Muttering only for her ears to hear, “Fuck…”

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

After all that, you finally finally make your way outside. You and Yuki ended up jogging a bit to get there since people all throughout the palace had started to call for you. By the time you got outside, you were met with your parents, General Yaga, and some of your maids who sought to see you off.

The goodbyes were rather quick, a few hugs, and ‘be safe’ ‘s given to you before you approached your carriage. There, you found your feet coming to a stop and your eyes drinking in the eye candy you were about to have for the entirety of this trip. Your carriage driver merely tips his hat to you and smirks ever so slightly, “Shiu Kong, at your service, princess.”

Your lashes flutter but before you have enough time to gawk at him, there’s a slight nudge forward given to you from behind.

“We need to get going, now,” Higuruma grumbles to you.

You scoff and nudge him back before taking Shiu’s offered hand and stepping into your carriage.

There were quite a few carriages but for this trip, it seemed as though you would be sharing one with your royal advisor. Outside would be that fine gentleman of a driver, Shiu, and beside him rode your knight. In another was your things, along with Utahime who wouldn’t dare stay home as you traveled elsewhere—who would help you into your dresses?

And with that, a few more exaggerated goodbye waves, and a tear or two from your dramatic mother (the Queen, mind you), you were headed off to your first destination: The Northern Nation. Home to your first (technically second) target; Prince Gojo Satoru.

m!list | last chapter | next chapter |

tags 1/2;

@angellliqua @celestial-lunar @withcheese @itoshi-r @silvarys @everything-red @fishosezo @haesify @sassybananaweaselpsychic @orange-juice-is-ass

@notjustagirlinthisworld @sushiimara @larkson0 @di-in-al @sxnkuna @hanuh @cayla0000 @helloxkittylo @idkmanshrugg @chocolatecheer

@michelintopic @cinaminroll @french3xit @valleydoli @broimherebcsimboredok @sleepisforpuzzies @cuti3patooti8 @sukunadckrider @f0r7una @ventila98

@vixionix @levislug @mauve-gojo @chosomi @semi-lover @bee3l0v3r @noooo-onee @r4sh3li @yenayaps @chososbestgirl

@smutyturtle @simp-plague @pnkblueberry @stargirl-mayaa @kunareads @tojisdollx @gojoslefttoenail @forbiddenblog @glittercherry777 @samm1e13

155 notes · View notes

mintyhollows · 1 day ago

Text

Nam-Gyu x Thanos’ ex gf reader part 1

This is my first ever attempt at writing anything lmao so bear with me pls. I’ve had bits and pieces of this stuck in my head for DAYS and I just had to do something about it. This part is really just setting the tone as mc & Nam-gyu doesn’t even interact lmao. But lmk if this is anything worth continuing.

THANOS IS PROLLY OOC BUT I LOVE ME SOME MEAN THANOS🫶🏼🫶🏼

When life gives you crippling debt, you can’t really afford to make lemonade. And it wasn’t so much life as it was your ex boyfriend who gave you crippling debt either.

You’d left Su-Bong a long time ago, before he adopted the personality of Thanos rather than just the stage name, and you weren’t planning on ever seeing him again. He’d broken you down in so many ways. Convincing you to let him invest your money, promising you he knew what he was doing, promising you he was recovering from his addiction. If only you hadn’t believed him.

Unfortunately, it seems that when life gives you crippling debt, it doesn’t take your plans into consideration. Now you could only hope Thanos had the decency to leave you alone after everything, even if his new friend might not.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The first game shook you to your core. You hadn’t known what to expect after accepting some random business card and being somewhat consensually kidnapped to god knows where, but it wasn’t this. The sound of gunshots was still ringing in your ears as you were lead back to the main room, and you didn’t know if it would ever stop. You mindlessly found your way back to your bunk and plopped down, trying to regain some piece of mind.

«Fancy seeing you here»

So much for peace of mind. You looked up and met the eyes of your infamous ex boyfriend. He looked worse than you’d ever seen him, yet he acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

«What do you want?»

«Aw, don’t be such a downer. I always said you ought to live a little, come join the Thanos world and we’ll get through this.»

He gestured behind him, where you could see the rest of his presumed friends pretinding not to listen in on the conversation. You raised an eyebrow at him in annoyance.

«If I remember correctly, I already left both you and the Thanos world quite a while ago. Besides, I didn’t realize you had groupies»

He almost looked sorry for you for a second, but he kept the smirk on his face.

«Oh sweetheart. I’ve always had groupies, you were just too naive to realize that you were one of them»

Had he told you this a few months ago your heart would have shattered, but your resentment for him had only grown in your time apart, and so the only thing affected by his statement was your ego. Not that you were about to let him know that though, so you only shrugged at him as he turned to walk away. But not without calling back to you.

«Offer still stands sweetheart, the games are gonna be boring on your own»

You spent the time leading up to the vote mulling over his offer. However annoying he might be, his offer was tempting. It was his fault you needed money in the first place, so letting him show off and keep you safe during the next game was only fair, right?

Once it was your turn to vote you looked over at him and his little group. Thanos was whispering with who seemed to be his right hand man as they both looked at you in anticipatoon. You made eyecontact with the unfamiliar man and felt something in you click.

‘Player 124, huh? Fuck it’ You thought as you pressed ‘O’.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

#squid game x reader #nam gyu #nam gyu x reader #thanos x reader #squid game season 2 #squid game season 2 x reader #player 124 #player 124 x reader

87 notes · View notes

eternal-love · 2 days ago

Note

I’m having a really bad day today, gimmie some Benny smut I know you’ve got something in that brain of yours 🤍

LEAVE

Pairing: Benny Cross x reader

Summary: You try to leave Benny, but he has other plans.

Warning: smut, toxic relationship, Benny being a pathetic ass, reader has a child, Benny gets physically violent.

Note: Couldn’t deny Miss Cross herself y’know? 😏I know I’m not as good writing smut but I do my best for you. Hope you get better and this makes you feel better! 🫶💗

Also, this is heavily inspired by a combo @aust-een and I had about how Jeff held back a lot from what the real Benny could have been. I just know Benny wasn’t this quiet nonchalant thing. He was jealous, possessive and violent.

Your life was monotonous, you woke up, got ready, had breakfast, went to your job, put your with annoying customers, came back home, slept. Repeat. That was up until you met Benny.

Your life did a 180, in your routine and emotionally too. Benny was an interesting character, he was a mistery to a lot of people. And to you too, your friend warned you to not even look in his direction, he was always cruising for a bruising. Him and his bike were in for any sort of trouble. That’s what drew you to him.

Your last boyfriend was too plain, too vanilla. You often sought out a way to create any sort of tension. With Benny, that wasn’t necessary. He was the problem himself. With you having to bail him out of jail more times that you liked to admit it. A part of you knew this wasn’t healthy. Specially not for your son, he saw everything.

Benny lived in your house, so, obviously you were the head of the house, you worked and brought in the money. But Benny didn’t care, he flouted in and out the house as he pleased. Anxiety ruled over you, not knowing if he would come back or not. You could stay awake all night just waiting for him.

At some point, you knew it had to be over, it wasn’t healthy anymore and you spent days more stressed than happy. So you waited for him to come back. You had put your son to bed upstairs. Your leg bouncing as you drank a beer, you heard the front door open and you saw Benny come in, black boots stomping on the wooden floor.

“What are you doin’ awake still?” Benny spoke up as he saw you in the couch, his eyes a bit tired as well as his voice.

“Waitin’ for you.” You said, putting out the cigarette on the ashtray.

“You ain’t gotta do that.” Benny scoffed, he took his pack of Marlboro Reds out his pocket and lit up just one, he walked towards the kitchen and grabbed a beer. He looked around, no food. “No food tonight, I see. That’s how you care for your man?”

“It’s too late at night, only cooked for Robbie and I.” You said, you stared at him as he walked around. He just smirked in disbelief at what you said.

“What’s with the face?” He asked you as he came back to the living room, taking another hit from the cigarette.

“I want to talk to you about something.” You said, taking in a deep breath.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Benny rolled his eyes.

He had been off and weird lately, you had believed you were crazy but no, you started to accept that he was in fact different.

“I can’t live like this no more, Benny.” You confessed as you stood up, your hands on your hips. “This ain’t right. Not for me or my Robbie. I want you to leave.”

You said, it took everything in you to get the words out of you. Because you didn’t know how he would react.

Benny pressed his lips together as he took a deep drag from the cigarette, shaking his head. “That ain’t happening. I ain’t leavin’.”

Benny was hard headed and he did not follow nobody. If he was told to do something, he did the opposite, but you were tired. Of everything.

“It’s not a question, Benny. I can’t keep carrying on like this. It’s eating me alive.” You said, trying to appear firm as you stood up.

“You can’t keep carrying on like this?” He repeated your words, you could easily tell he was mocking you. “What else did you think this would be?”

You stared at Benny in disbelief, a part of you thought you could have changed him. Make him more responsible, more emotionally present, more anything, but no. He was still the same troublemaker you met. It hurt you to kick him out but there wasn’t any other choice.

“I just want you to leave. Get your things and leave.” You said, the words getting stuck in your throat.

“So you can bring in another man? Who you gonna bring next? Cal or that son of a bitch with the camera?” Benny accused you, he was very jealous and possessive. He didn’t like bringing you to meeting too much, specially not when Danny or Cal talked to you. There was a reason he didn’t let you meet up with Danny to do his interviews.

“What are you even talking about, Benny? This is about us. You and I!” You snapped, he always tried to blame others for everything, because in his own words ‘he never asked anyone for anything’.

“Don’t even yell at me. Watch it.” He said, his voice monotone.

“I’m tired of you leaving without saying anything. And expecting me to take you back. I can’t keep waitin’ on ya. I just can’t. So please, leave. Because I can’t handle you being a son of a bitch anymore.”

Oh, that set him on fire. You, calling him a son of a bitch. He didn’t like that. There was a silence in which he clenched his jaw, put out the cigarette into the decorative table by his side.

“Right?” Benny said calmly before he snapped. And he threw the decorative table to the floor, making the flower vase break down to little pieces.

You flinched, Benny had his violent outburst, you hadn’t quite gotten used to them yet. Throwing beer bottles or anything on his reach. His nonchalant demeanor was something that was only a façade to either give you the cold shoulder or appear more brave with the club.

As soon as he walked towards you, you backed off, only for Benny to grab you by the neck.

“Who do you think you are?” Benny growled, his voice always held that nonchalant tone to it. Which you hated. You never knew if he did this because he cared and wanted to stay or just for the fun of it. “I ain’t asking anything from you, so you can’t come here askin’ anything from me.”

Benny was so close to your face, his hand wasn’t really gripping your neck tightly but he was holding you hard enough to scare you.

“I ain’t gonna let you go around like one of them loose women. You’re mine. Mine. You get it?” Benny whispered in your ear.

But you wanted this to end. For your son.

“I ain’t doing this because I don’t love you. I do it for my son.”

“I really don’t give a shit about your son. Never did and never will, doll.” Benny scoffed. “I should listen to what you’ve told me, give you a baby so you can finally shut up. So that I’ll never be able to fully leave you.”

Benny placed his knee in between your legs, pressing it against your core. Making you shiver, most of the time, Benny having you by the neck turned you on immediately, and it was working right now.

“You don’t want me to leave, do you?” Benny purred in your ear. “No words now? Did the cat get your tongue?”

Benny leaned in and kissed your lips, the friction of his knee with your core sent shivers across your body. You wanted to rip off his clothes, and so he did. He ripped open your shirt, those cheap buttons didn’t stand a chance.

“How many times have I told you I hate these clothes? Mhm?” Benny whispered. It was a two piece set, the sleeveless button shirt and the matching shorts. It was a look that was in right now, you had wanted to fit in. Albeit, Benny didn’t enjoy it. “You want everyone to look, don’t ya? Everyone. There’s a reason why I got you that jacket.”

Benny pulled you to the couch, throwing you into it. The jacket was the one that had ‘Property of Benny’ in the back, made you wear it every time there was a meeting.

Benny got rid of his colors, his jacket and vest on the floor as well as his worn out white tshirt, he got on top of you. His lips finding their way to yours, you tasted the whisky on his lips, made you hum. You were enjoying how aggressive he got at times.

His hand traveled from your hair to your breast, squeezing it through your bra, you moaned on his lips, your back trying to arch but his body blocked you from doing so. Then his hand traveled all the way to inside your shorts, his touch feather-like as he caressed you over your underwear, your toes curled up at the feeling, you shivered once again.

“My doll is so desperate. I thought she wanted me to leave.” He kept rubbing you over your underwear. You let out breathy moans.

You wanted to deny it. But you couldn’t even speak properly. He wasn’t even doing anything extreme and you were already losing it.

He worked with his hands, he was so masculine. The smell of Marlboro Red filled your nostrils. It made you so— ugh. You couldn’t get enough of it, or him. Even if part of you hated it, there was something about him that you couldn’t reject.

“I’m gonna make sure— everyone in the fuckin’ street knows who you belong to. Alright?” Benny grunted as he undid his pants, he was as hard as he ever was when he’s with you.

And to be fair, your ex-in laws lived next door. You were in for a ride as soon as he pulled down your shorts and underwear. His boxers came down as well.

“Don’t be quiet.” Benny said, as he filled you up with his cock in one swift thrust.

“Motherfucker!” You moaned out loudly, loud enough to blush afterwards. You saw his smirk.

He liked how he got to you. How much you were willing to put up from him. His thrusts were anything but gentle, the sound of skin slapping, moaning and grunting filled the living room.

“You like it? Hmm?” Benny asked as he relentlessly fucked you in the couch, but this want his favorite position, not at all. He found it boring to say the least.

Your eyes were rolling back, your mouth open and filthy noises escaped your lips, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Move.” He said as he pulled out of you, you whimpered when you stopped feeling his cock. Damn, that’s how much you needed him.

Eventually he manhandled you, he threw you around until you were in all fours. He was behind you and without any sort of mercy, he pounded into you from behind, his cock filling you up, giving you pleasure like no other.

“Benny… p-please” You whined, it was too much, he was too much. All of him.

“What? I’m sorry, can’t hear you.” Benny said, as his hand reached to grab your throat, squeezing the air you had.

It was the adrenaline of having no air combined with the pleasure of it. It gave you too much ecstasy. You didn’t even remember the last time he fucked you like this.

“I’ll leave whenever I want.” Benny whispered in your ear as he kept choking you, you tried to grasp on whatever air was possible. But it was in vain, and after a while, he withdrew his hand from your throat and slowly made its way down to your clit.

That was your breaking point and you couldn’t hold back your moans anymore. Every moan that came out of you came from the deepest of your soul.

His hand worked wonders on your clit, making you feel overstimulated, waiting for that usual feeling for being close to the edge.

“Keep… g-going” you managed to mutter through the moans. As his cock kept filling you up, you knew no guy could ever compare to him.

Not even one. And you didn’t even dare to think of it. Afraid that he could read your mind and get mad.

“We’re gonna have a baby. So you won’t ever kick me out again. So that your brat of a son— knows his place.” Benny kept going even faster and harder, it seemed like he was on the edge. “And so that photographer son of a bitch knows that you’re taken.”

“Benny!” You yelled as Benny hit that sweet spot of yours, pleasure erupted as you finished, your muscles relaxing immediately.

He kept fucking you, for at least a minute more before you heard his voice falter, his breath ragged. “Oh, f-fuck…”

Benny filled you up, made sure to not waste a single drop of his cum. After all, he wanted you heavy with his baby in a few months. He couldn’t wait to see your son’s face. That little brat. Knowing his mommy wouldn’t get rid of him.

“So good for me…” Benny leaned over you, whispering in your ear. “If you tell me to do anything ever again, I’ll do the opposite. Okay?”

#austin butler #austinbutler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #austin butler fandom #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler is so hot #benny cross x y/n #benny cross x reader #the bikeriders 2022 #the bikeriders benny #benny cross #austin butler smut #austin butler smut fic

78 notes · View notes

secriden · 3 days ago

Note

I always love your posts about THK and your recently pinned post and another one about Style yearning for skinship are just *chef's kiss*. So thank you for your analysis!

I saw some comments on tumblr that Style was acting as if he's sad and playing Fadel and I just could NOT agree, so I was glad to see your post. My opinion on Style's crying scene is I don't think Style meant to cry at first, but his emotions sort of overwhelmed him while he was talking. I think he definitely uses his cheerful disassocation with reality to deal with fear and he was just going to tell his message to his dad just in case, perhaps in a more lighthearted way, but he remembered about his mom and the reality of potential death hit him fully because his mother's death must be the closest death he'd experienced in his life. And when Fadel asked him if he was crying he just said Duh and wasn't fully crying, but after Fadel told him to stop the sob story, he turned back and the tears really started flowing. When I saw that I could really relate to him because that's how I usually act too- act nonchalant to hide my real feelings. Style wasn't planning to get emotional and then got mocked for it - and he was also denied his s*xual advances/skinship earlier too- that must've felt really hurtful to him.

As much as the scene hurts, I'm glad to see this was not cut because even cheerful, positive people like Style really gets down sometimes and people don't really understand this, even in real life! I was kind of like this when younger and had some people tell me they can't imagine me feeling sad or nervous. So seeing Style's rare serious and emotional side in the story is really made me kind of acknowledged? When I started watching this show, I didn't think I would get this attached to this character. He's like a ray of sunshine, very pure in his beliefs and quite fiercely loyal too (might be weird to say when he was complicit but he is actually loyal to both Kant and Fadel to the best of his ablities IMO) and the actor/Dunk is absolutely killing this role! Not just the crying scene in this episode, but Dunk's comedic timing in delivering the one liners is SO GOOD he manages to make me laugh every single episode so far.

Lovely anon, oh thank you for sharing so vulnerably about how you related to Style in that scene. I really agree with you that Style wasn't putting on an act to fool Fadel. I'm very surprised to hear that anyone still thinks Style is playing Fadel at this point?? O_O I don't think anything he does this episode is an act anymore -- even when he propositions Fadel with a shirt tossed into his face, there's clear and genuine intent behind it:

There's so much going on in this look. The gentle fondness as he gazes back at Fadel, the way the look seeks to communicate affection even as Fadel is glaring back in anger and frustration. But there's acceptance too, like he understands why Fadel is keeping his walls up, he understands why Fadel feels he deserves some of this harshness and he will let Fadel take the time he needs to come to whatever conclusions he wants to as long as Fadel does so with the understanding that Style's love for him is genuine.

Because at the end of the day the only thing Style really doesn't want is for Fadel to make his choice (to forgive or to cut Style off) thinking that Style's feelings are still a lie. I think that's the crux of the problem between them now: Fadel is pushing Style away because he is certain Style’s feelings aren’t true, and have never been true, but Style knows his own heart and understands the fundamental shift inside him that occurred over the course of their relationship.

Which is why I think Style is genuine in everything he’s showing Fadel now. Even if he didn’t mean to cry, I think his worry for his dad is very real. And I think the reason why he brings it up with Fadel is that Style is done hiding anything from him now. It’s not about manipulation, nor is it an attempt to make Fadel feel guilty. But he's taking everything Fadel is giving to him incredibly seriously and part of that is facing the possibility that Fadel may decide to kill him at the end after all. And that's... scary; hell its terrifying and heartbreaking and Style has understandable guilt related to how losing him after losing his mother is going to affect his dad.

And actually what you're saying about "cheerful and positive people like Style" also sometimes feeling down is such an important aspect of understanding Style's character. Because we can only really understand the weight of Style’s love for Fadel if we see him in all his multifaceted complexity: Style has suffered, Style understands the pain of loss but has learned to find joy in his life in the process of dealing with his mother’s passing. Styles cheerfulness and positively is not a sign of his immaturity or lack of complexity but rather evidence of a inner strength and determination to find meaning in life beyond the sadness. After my dad passed, it took me nearly 4 years to even get to a point where I began to want to want to find pockets of happiness. There was so much about me at the time time bound up in my feelings of loss and sadness and the ache of missing my dad, the unfairness of it all. Style is-- Style is so very precious to me.

And something I found really poignant is how Fadel and Style have such opposing methods of dealing with grief and fear. Fadel hides from it, runs from it, builds up walls and remains ever vigilante so he'll never be vulnerable again, while Style faces his grief and his fear head on. Style takes his fear out and holds it in the palm of his hand and in the process - like you said - maybe found himself more overwhelmed then he expected, but he allows himself the space to cry because he also sees that its important in the moment. And he invites Fadel into that vulnerability with him. That's insane to me -- Style's love for Fadel means that even when Fadel has a gun to his head and is the source of his fear, Fadel is always orientated on the INSIDE to Style.

To extend the allegory, the difference between them is that Fadel's love made him invite Style inside his walls as an outsider, but Style's love makes Fadel already part of him. Fadel doesn't need an invitation because at no point in episode 8 did Style ever treat Fadel as anything but an extension of his own heart.

So yeah, I'm so with you about being grateful for the scene. I think it maybe could have been shot differently (for instance, I kind of wish they'd just let Dunk do his thing and sell the moment without having that background music 180 degree shift), but I adore it for what it shows us about Style and the way he thinks and feels, and most of all the way Fadel is oriented in his heart.

#ask #the heart killers #fadelstyle #thk ep 8 #thk meta #hui talks thk #fandom talks <3 #also hard agree on dunk having some really excellent one liners in this series like... its an aspect i'm personally really enjoying #like i know I KNOW that for some people they want this show to be more serious and like... i get it??#but also thats literally what fanfic is for xDDD #i haven't had time to read anything for ages but you best believe i intend to be camping out in ao3 once i'm able to again #i'm sorry it took me so long to reply!!! i was struggling to formulate some of what i wanted to say and family commitments have escalated #in the lead up to CNY

74 notes · View notes

volatilebrat4103 · 2 days ago

Text

Broken cycles and fixed bonds (Part 5)

“Are you two planning on staying?” Caitlyn’s eyes are hopeful as she looks to the couple. “I would like to but ultimately it depends on her” Jinx looks down to Y/N’s still sleeping form, peacefully nuzzled against her. “I could really use my sister around here” Caitlyn whispers heartfeltly, her eyes glossing over. “I’m sure you both could, I know I need my sister around now” Jinx says with a smile directed at Vi who smiles in return, the feeling mutual.

“Although I’m not sure she is one for paperwork and meetings” Jinx tilts her head ever so slightly. “You’ll be surprised how well she used to handle the family business with her mother, she was her mother’s prodigy” Tobius speaks up with a warm smile reminiscing. “She insisted she would learn how to do everything so that one day when Caitlyn took over as the family head, she could assist her flawlessly” Tobius laughs with a shake of his head. Caitlyn’s eyes sparkle with amusement, as she chuckles at her sister’s antics.

“She really was the responsible one between us. I was the one who wanted to sneak out and have adventures.” Vi laughs softly at Caitlyn’s memory, Jinx can only smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. Y/N stirs in her sleeps, and Jinx’s gaze immediately falls to her, a look of concern crossing her face. However, Y/N simply snuggles deeper into the blanket, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Once she settles again, they continue their conversation. “She was just as bad as you Caitlyn, don’t you worry” Tobius laughs.

“if she wasn’t with your mother doing an abundance of work” Tobius sniggers at his over exaggeration, “she was in the lab or getting up to mischief, sometimes worse than you might I add” he finishes with a laugh, “don’t forget sneaking out to go to the prescient to spar with Greyson” Caitlyn chuckles now too as Jinx’s eyes light up with amusement, grinning at her girlfriend’s mischievous antics. “Sounds like we missed out on a lot of fun.” Vi jokes with a chuckle, shaking her head. “I think we had a fair share of mischief in Piltover, definitely more than Cassandra wanted” Tobius’s laughter fades, turning to look at Y/N with a warm, nostalgic gaze. “it’s nice to remember the good times, she’s been through so much…” His voice trails off and the room falls silent once more, the fire crackling being the only sound in the room.

“Perhaps I should go see Mel, maybe she can help with Y/N’s arcane abilities” Caitlyn breaks the silence, thinking of Mel Madarda. Jinx’s expression turned thoughtful before ultimately agreeing before her brows furrow, “wasn’t her mom that crazy warlord that attacked Piltover?” Jinx asks as everyone turns sombre remembering how Ambessa and the Noxus army attacked the city, sided with one of their own, Viktor. They had all lost so much and so many that day, the room falls silent at the memory.

“as far as I’ve heard she’s got a good handle on her arcane abilities, perhaps she can help guide Y/N? Help her embrace who and what she is” Caitlyn speaks up through the gloomy air in the room. “It’s worth a try” Tobius agrees. “I will have to ask her to take up my position on the council during my absence, hopefully it will sway her into staying permanently” Caitlyn’s voice hopeful as she looks to her sister’s sleeping form. “Will she accept?” Tobius turns to Caitlyn, his tone wary, “I’m hoping she will, she knows how to run the family business after all, nothing has truly changed in the years of her absence.” Caitlyn speaks confidently, she knows her sister, knows that her family will always be her number one priority.

“And maybe, just maybe, her girlfriend wouldn’t mind helping convince her?” Vi hints cautiously to Jinx who smiles and nods in return. Jinx’s smile turns sly as she leans in, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “oh I think I can be very persuasive when I need to be” she winks with a smirk, Vi chuckles, a low, throaty sound, at the implication Tobius’s face turns a light shade of pink, clearing his throat in embarrassment. Caitlyn rolls her eyes good-naturedly, a small smile painted on her face.

“Maybe we better get everyone to bed, we can discuss this tomorrow” Tobius says as he begins to clear the tray of teacups. Nodding in agreement, Vi stands up with Caitlyn, stretching her arms over her head. “sounds like a plan to me, I’m beat” Caitlyn hums in agreement before yawning, before turning her attention to Jinx who is still sat in the chair with a sleeping Y/N. “Are you going to be alright or do you need help?” Caitlyn questions looking to Jinx, there would be absolutely no way any of them would be able to carry her through to a room, however Jinx just smiles with a small shake of her head, “I’ve got her.”

She waits for everyone to file out of the room, biding goodnight to one another as she gently brushes a strand of hair out of Y/N’s face, “hey toots, lets get you to bed huh” Jinx whispers placing delicate kisses across her face whilst the latter groans in response, deciding to snuggle further into her lover’s side. Jinx repeating the same action as Caitlyn stood in the doorway watching the interaction with a soft smile. Jinx’s whispers grow softer, her kisses gentle as she coaxes Y/N into a more wakeful state. “Come on sleepyhead…let’s get you to bed” Y/N groggily opens her eyes, blinking slowly as she focuses on her girlfriend’s face, a small smile forming. “Come on toots” Jinx guides the lethargic Kiramman through the house to the guest room, gently turning the handle and pushing the door open, once inside Y/N is quick to collapse on the bed and back into a deep sleep.

Jinx shakes her head at her girlfriend’s antics before looking around the dimly lit room before spotting their luggage in the corner. She can’t help but smile at the woman, moving to brush a tendril of hair out of her face once more before placing a chaste kiss to he lips, “I love you” she whispers before standing once more. Once the blue haired woman has found some comfortable clothes for both of them to ware to bed she is quick to strip Y/N, carefully redressing her in suitable sleep ware before doing the same with herself and carefully climbing into bed next to her.

Y/N is quick to pull Jinx flush against her sleeping form drawing a smile for her as she wraps her arms around her in return, settling into comfort as their grips tightened around one another. The warmth and comfort they provide each other is quick to lull them into a peaceful sleep, the only sounds is the soft synchronised rhythm of their breathing.

Chapter summary

Taglist:

@brocoliisscared

#jinx arcane #arcane #vi arcane #vi x caitlyn #vi and jinx #jinx #jinx x reader #jinx x y/n #arcane caitlyn #arcane caitvi #caitvi #league of legends #league of lesbians #league of legends arcane #lesbian

44 notes · View notes

pipedreamprayer · 5 hours ago

Text

There's some really good points in the comments and reblogs of this post about how the quest is establishing Jingliu as a manipulator, but while I agree that it 100% is showing us that she's twisting things, it's not presented clearly enough that she's an outright unreliable source of information considering this is one of the few voiced quests in the game. It's something people will sit up and listen to, and if they've not dug into the harder to find lore already the audience is primed to come away from this taking her words at face value

She's never fact checked or called out for, say, only having arrived st the end of the Sedition which should be a mnown fact, and gets treated with too much sympathy by the writers, the tone set up like a tragedy she was unable to prevent until the thing with Blade, and even then nobody really shows anger at her for what she did to him? I get that his respect to her is a sign of just how fucked up what she did was, but Jing Yuan and Dan Heng seem to stop being characters a certain points, like they exist for certain interactions the writers wanted but aside from that they just needed somebody to be there for Jingliu to talk at. Why don't we get more of what they think of what she said? What she did? This was the opportunity to have Jing Yuan talk about his views of the Sedition openly, and for Dan Heng to ask questions that must have haunted him his whole life, and for Blade to question even for a moment why he had become the weapon of Jinglius revenge instead of his own.

It's just...handled super strangely, you know? In many ways it feels like the quest is written to trick us into believing Jingliu, from how she wasn't treated like an outright antagonist through her interaction with Yanqing in the quest that introduced her, to the way she keeps being set up to have insight that nobody else does like how she tells Dan Heng that he's notna reincarnation and then the game happens to prove her right immediately by having Dan Heng recall a name he shouldn't have known.

But then everything with Blade is right at the end is clearly horrendous and blatantly her fault, her active choice to be cruel and to not even see anything wrong with it, and it undercuts the tone of "listen to her" that the entire rest of the quest seemed to be pushing us towards. And then, instead of the characters feeling as jarred as the audience is, the quest just...ends? Jing Yuan may have brought up that she's got an agenda, but nobody is shown to act on the possibility that she's lying through her teeth, nobody asks for proof or talks among themselves about why she might have chosen to tell them this if she's gunning for an agenda to do with killing Yaoshi, they all just seem to be accepting this current state of things!

TLDR OP is right that this quest is teaching false information about the Sedition to players. If the writers intended the quest to be a lesson in not trusting Jingliu they did a bad job of it! And if they didn't intend that and have a plan to trick us, why is the proof that she's a completely unreliable narrator so easy to find if you go looking at all? Players who trust that the game will provide what's necessary to know for main quests in main quests will be taking her at face value, and those who want to understand more are just left confused by the disparity!!

I am a huge high cloud quintet enjoyer so it may surprise you to learn that I absolutely hate the quest “Clouds Leave No Trace”.

let me explain. I will admit that a lot of it stems from my issues with Jingliu as a character. I appreciate that she’s meant to be cold and detached, but what bothers me is that although she says considers herself to be a sinner alongside Yingxing and Dan Feng, she constantly acts like she’s better than them, criticising them, acting as if their choice was an easy one while hers wasn’t. Her humility feels incredibly insincere, and she becomes very difficult to empathise with as a result.

then there’s the quest itself. I split it into three parts.

one: redundant infodumping

For the first part of the quest, Jingliu, Dan Heng and Yanqing travel to different parts of the Luofu so Jingliu can bid farewell to her past home. It’s basically a plot device for her to drop some lore about Yingxing and Baiheng, which is fine on its own, but the problem is, none of the information she gives is new. All of it was stuff we could already figure out from character stories and other in-game text.

the second issue with this part of the quest is Dan Heng’s presence, or rather, lack of it. Considering he’s the main character tying the quintet subplot into the main story, you’d think he’d be important to the quest focussed on them. But he’s just… there. He says and does pretty much nothing. You could cut him from the whole quest and it wouldn’t be any different.

In fact, Dan Heng also suffers greatly from the timing of the quest. If we look at the voice lines for IL, it’s obvious that he’s a snapshot of Dan Heng shortly after this quest, since he knows Blade is the one who made Cloudpiercer. Ichor Of Two Dragons also seems to take place at the end of this quest. This is an issue because both release in version 1.3, making the quest which takes place in version 1.4 feel like a regression in his character development when actually the story was for some reason out of order.

part 2: Dan Feng gets mischaracterised to hell and back

This is the worst part of the quest by far. Jingliu does her self-righteous monologue and nails the coffin shut by giving the most biased description possible of the Sedition.

she first says that Dan Feng was trying to revive Baiheng. Dan Heng’s and Jingliu’s character stories reveal that this is probably not the case, and that his actual goal was to create another high elder,

she also says that the reason Dan Feng did what he did was selfishness and an inability to accept Baiheng’s death. She fails to mention the fact that the Xianzhou treated him like a convenient weapon instead of an actual person, that he hated how many innocent people died in the war between Aeons, that his people were going extinct because of said war, that he hated how he gave the Xianzhou the power to cause so much death, that he had probably attempted less dramatic rebellions in his past lives to no avail, that the high elder succession was incredibly screwed up and he didn’t want to have to pass that burden on to his next incarnation (granted that lasts part’s only implicit). Not to mention that she didn’t actually bear witness to any of the events she described, only the aftermath.

part 3: Blade monologue

This is the only redeeming quality of the entire quest

he acknowledges that Dan Feng and Yingxing weren’t simply upset with Baiheng’s death, but with the unfairness of everything in general

he expresses genuine regret

and the way he looks up to Jingliu after she tortured him is the only time where that story genuinely presents her as someone who’s done terrible things, showing how she managed to break Blade so badly that he feels thankful for it

in conclusion, do not play this quest if you want to actually understand Dan Feng as a character

#hsr #dan feng #high cloud quintet #yingxing #hsr blade #honkai star rail #dan heng

103 notes · View notes

akutsuir · 3 days ago

Text

𖦹 Poisoning

𖦹 Synopsis: Rin sees you as his escape valve

𖦹 Character: Rin itoshi/Itoshi Rin

𖦹 Warnings: Emotional dependence, obsessive behavior, yandere tendencies

notes: this is very light, Rin just becomes dependent on your presence, I don't think there is any TW >ᴗ<

𓍼 You and Rin met after Sae left for Spain.

Your friendship started out in an unusual way, but you were happy to have made a friend like the younger Itoshi. You were both the same age and had similar tastes. Besides, you liked listening to him tell you about the news he saw about his older brother on the internet, and even though you didn't know much about football, you tried to follow everything the boy said.

He would invite you to the games he was going to compete in, and then take you out for ice cream. Together, you would watch the sunset while you listened to Rin talk about some of his frustrations regarding football. You always listened to him attentively, saying kind words to him right after, talking about how he didn't need to overwork himself like that, that he needed to take good care of himself if he wanted to become the second best striker in the world, and that you would always be by his side, cheering for him and his brother when they won the World Cup together.

You always knew what to say or what to do at the right time, it was almost like you could read his mind. You always calmed him down, taking a weight off his shoulders when he was with you.

Over time, Rin began to see you as an escape valve for the loneliness he felt since Sae left. He had no other friends, and his parents seemed to be completely absent when it came to the boy. But you, you were always there when he needed you.

Rin began to grow more and more attached to you, he didn't just take you to games, he took you to training too. He would ask you to come over to his house after you left the ice cream shop, he had bought new horror games for the two of you to play together, he was sure you would like them.

He said his class was boring, his classmates were nothing like you, he wanted you two to study together, that's why he always texted you during class.

You two were kids, there was no way you could know that such a pure friendship was slowly becoming something so... Poisonous.

When you both turned 14, you and Rin started studying in the same class.

Now, with the same classes for the day for both of you, Rin and you ended up getting even closer. For Rin, it was as if his classmates had really disappeared. You were always his partner, in any work or activity. He didn't even give you the chance to try to get closer to your new classmates, even though you told him that you wanted to make new friends.

You were always with him.

He wasn't very verbal, but his actions always made it clear that he wanted you around at all times. You were his best friend, besides your brother, no one understood him better than you. For Rin, he also understood you better than anyone. That's why he didn't mind asking if you wanted to go with him to training before dragging you there and making you wait for him in the stands until the end, or asking if you had other plans when he took you to his house and made you listen to more about his frustrations or ambitions.

For him, he was sure that your answer would always be “yes”.

That's why, when he heard your first "no", he didn't know how to react.

You had accepted your classmates' invitation to go to the park in the afternoon, so you wouldn't be able to accompany Rin after school. But that was okay! Ever since you met, you two had barely been apart, so Rin wouldn't mind if you changed your plans even once, right?

Absolutely wrong.

He didn't care if it was just an afternoon outing. That didn't make sense to him. Why were you leaving him aside to be with those lukewarm people you had just met? What did you mean by "this time you can go alone."? He didn't want to go alone.

Weren't you the one who said you'd always be by his side?

Wasn't his friendship enough for you?

In the end, you gave in. The two of you spent the day together, as always. But it was impossible to ignore that strange feeling that had settled inside you.

The days passed and Rin continued to act normally, but you were increasingly exhausted. You wanted to try to enjoy his company like before, but now it was like something draining your energy. You were the only one he felt comfortable talking to openly about what was bothering him, you were the one who showed him that he could always tell you about what was bothering him, but over time, having Rin always pour out his problems with soccer and the fear of not being able to reach the older Itoshi on top of you, always looking for your consolation, was also a situation that was starting to become exhausting.

The training sessions, the trips to the ice cream parlor, all the messages at night when you weren't together, the way he kept you away from others, the way he seemed to truly believe that every minute of your day was dedicated solely to him.

It was all exhausting.

And the worst part was that you didn't want to push your best friend away.

You knew that trying to start a conversation with Rin wouldn't lead anywhere, after all, if there was one thing you learned during those years with the boy, it was that no one could be as inflexible as he was. When you thought about cutting this relationship off at the root, all the memories you created and the time you spent together came flooding back to you. You were trapped in a maze of your own making.

So when you heard from Rin that his older brother was coming back, an immeasurable relief washed over you. With Sae back, Rin would divert his focus to him and, at least for a while, he wouldn't burden you with his presence anymore. You felt bad for being happy to know that you wouldn't be around him so much anymore. It was never your intention to get tired of someone you liked so much, after all, you knew he hadn't made that friendship exhausting on purpose.

So why?

Why was Rin calling you so late at night? Why did he want to talk to you now? Shouldn't he have gone to rest so he could meet Sae again the next day?

When you, once again, neglected your wishes and went to him that night, you heard in detail about their unfortunate reunion and felt a hole grow in your chest. In that moment, you let him hold you for as long as he needed, you listened attentively to everything he had to say. You noticed that he seemed even more apathetic and indifferent now, but at the same time, it was as if you were seeing the same scared and distressed boy you had first spoken to at the airport exit years ago, right after he saw how lonely it would be without his brother around.

With his arms wrapped around your waist and his face buried in the crook of your neck, he breathed deeply, feeling some of that nagging pain in his chest go away now that you were there with him. Even though his dreams had been cruelly crushed by the one he admired the most, Rin still didn’t feel completely alone.

Because he still had you.

You would be there when he needed you, you would be by his side, being his point of peace and comfort whenever he felt exhausted.

“Do you want me to stay here for the night?” With a worried sigh, you asked, lightly stroking the dark green strands on you.

“Yes…” Relaxing under your touch, he replied. “Don’t leave my side.”

And of course you would never leave.

tags:

#yandere #blue lock #rin itoshi #rin x reader #itoshi rin #yancore #obsessive yandere #rin x you #silly little guy

43 notes · View notes

bluespiderlully · 2 days ago

Text

My Hashiras - Gallery (Not canon)

Hello! I wanted to conclude my gallery series, I had fun making character sheets with Niji Journey and I decided to add eight more characters to my cast. These ones aren't to consider "canon" at all because they're too many now and this is just a matter of completeness. This is just a gallery post and nothing more, you'll probably see them again in a post with their backstories.

🌋 Enkai Ikeda (Magma Hashira)

⏳️ Obara Kazehara (Sand Hashira)

🍃 Sora Aoyama (Leaf Pillar)

🕷 Tomoe Tsumugi (Spider Hashira)

💫 Seijiro Atushi (Star Hashira)

⚗️ Isana Kurosawa (Venom Hashira)

⚱️ Kuro Hanazumi (Cinder Hashira)

💨 Reika Yamigawa (Steam Hashira) ...yeah, I wanted a Jinx looking character

As I said earlier, yes, you're probably going to see them one more time for their backstories, but I don't plan to take them extra seriously, I'm 100% sure I won't make a personal post for each one as I did with the characters I "canonically" accept in my AU. I don't know when I will post about them again but until that moment thank you for everything!🩵

Gallery: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

36 notes · View notes

beautysurvives · 2 days ago

Text

also don’t see enough ppl acknowledge how Dean and Jack are going through such similar journeys in s14. The parallels between Jack losing his soul and the s6 soulless Sam arc are right there on the surface, but what Dean is going through with Michael is also a huge parallel.

I know people get mad at Dean for putting Jack in the Ma’lak box, and I guess it’s easy to forget that Dean’s original plan was to put himself in there. The way Dean blames himself for Michael’s escape (the line is something like “I let my guard down”) is something that gets echoed by Jack so many times, about failing to kill Michael and getting tricked by Lucifer. Jack thinks it’s his fault for not being strong enough. His fault for being too trusting.

And the fact that Dean didn’t put himself in the Ma’lak box — the fact that he allowed his family to convince him not to — that he let his emotional connections guide him rather than his instincts — probably feels like another huge failure for him, and it 100% connects to Mary’s death. Not just because he’s grieving her, not just because he indirectly got her killed, but because, for him, she represents emotional vulnerability and honesty and connection, everything that he believes family should be. Trust and safety, and most importantly, the presence of a parent/matriarch/patriarch — because if she’s gone, who’s left to lead the family? The responsibility has always fallen on his shoulders as the older brother without a stable father figure, but Dean has never wanted this role, and at this point is really not equipped to handle it. Once Mary came around to filling that role in s14, a bit of the weight was lifted from Dean’s shoulders.

And now that ability to breathe a little easier, to start accepting Jack as his own son with the knowledge that, this time, he doesn’t have to feel like he’s the only person responsible for a kid’s life — all of that, to Dean, was his own mistake. It’s a reminder not to trust, not to be emotional, not to form new attachments, and especially not to feel safe or happy (another huge theme in this season: happiness leading to death)

Because if he had just gone in the box, Michael wouldn’t have gotten out, all those hunters wouldn’t have died, and Jack wouldn’t have burned the last of his soul to save him. And if we go even further back, if Dean had never said yes to AU Michael in the first place — which, if you remember, was to save Sam (and Jack, who also doubles as Sam’s foil) from Lucifer.

Another important detail is how in his s12 confrontation with Mary (in Who We Are), Dean blames her for everything that happened in her absence — including Sam losing his soul. Although in that situation, prior to Mary’s resurrection, the main person who could’ve been blamed for that was Cas, and even that (in Dean’s mind) was a reach, because I’m sure he believed that Cas was telling the truth about it being a mistake, and at the end of the day no one really knew why Sam lost his soul. Similarly, many of the things that Sam did while soulless were blamed on Sam himself, which, in light of what we saw in s11 and with Donatello (that not having a soul doesn’t automatically make you harmful), kind of holds up. But still, who can be blamed for mistakes, errors in judgment, or consequences of risky decisions made in the absence of crucial information. Mary, like Chuck and Amara in s15, becomes that person simply by virtue of being a parent. Which is also why it’s so easy for Dean to start placing all the blame on Cas for failing to warn him about Jack killing the snake, and then failing to get back in time to warn them — being absent when they needed him there most. Regardless of how Dean has been behaving towards Jack, regardless of his own internal feelings of parenthood, Cas is the only one in tfw who has claimed responsibility for Jack, verbally identified himself as Jacks father, and accepted blame by apologizing.

People often point out how Sam behaves like a parent to Jack, but I think they miss the opportunity to connect this to the role Dean had to play after Mary’s death when he was a child. Sam sees Jacks need for another father figure besides Cas, just as Dean did for Sam when they were children — which is something I think Dean recognizes in s15, when he says “I tried the family thing, didn’t work” and Sam says “Yeah, me too.” Dean could be talking about Cas and Jack, or Lisa and Ben, but Sam is most likely talking about Jack. And if you watch the scene, there’s this little look from Dean that I’ve always read as guilt, because imo he does see Jack as his child, and regrets that Sam was parentified in his absence.

But when it comes to Dean himself, as one of Jack’s parents, he completely deflects blame in light of Mary’s death. He starts acting like he never saw Jack as family — and like his relationship with Cas was never “real” — and it’s especially easy because they’ve never had an actual out loud conversation where they explicitly defined Dean’s significance to either of them. His rejection of Jack as a family member — and his subsequent rejection of Cas as a partner — is not because Dean never loved/cared about him — it’s a rejection of responsibility. It’s his inability to recognize himself as partially culpable (and he is, because, despite his relative passivity at the start, he went along wholeheartedly with the plan to use Jack’s soul to bring him back, and he, like Cas and Sam, put the responsibility to make sure that Jack didn’t lose his soul on other people AND allowed Jack to be unsupervised and put in situations where he’d be tempted to use his powers AND didn’t even allow himself to see the warning signs — and none of this makes it entirely Dean’s fault, because of course he was dealing with his own Michael crisis — he was hardly in a position to really act like a good parent, which he knew) — but the death of Mary also means the absence of a central figure to blame. It is the absence of a leader.

So when Chuck appears and gives him the Equalizer — the gun that will kill both its target and the person wielding it — of course he’ll take that deal. God is telling him to do it, and that it’s the only way — and without Mary present to remind him that she wouldn’t want this (which he realizes on his own later), he believes it.

Of course he’ll die killing Jack, because in Dean’s heart he sees them as the same person. He sees them as equally to blame. And it’s so connected to everything that came before Jack too — it’s a fitting punishment for the mistake Dean’s been making over and over again since episode one — since his father first told him that he’d have to kill Sam. Since he refused, time and again. Since he let himself get close to Cas just to get betrayed over and over. Since he decided to team up with Crowley, despite that warning he’d been given (if John saw you working with a demon…) Since he saved Baby Amara, not knowing that she’d grow up to be the darkness. Letting his love and compassion and empathy blind him to something that, in his mind — in any good hunter’s mind — should be black and white. The monster is supposed to die, even if it looks like you. It shouldn’t matter how you feel because feeling means the monsters win.

#dean winchester #jack kline #whoops #idk what happened to me just now #everyday I’m plagued by visions #spn #spn meta #spn s14 #Dean & Jack #yes that last line is a reference to 15x09 #when Sam decides not to trap Chuck #because he believes the story he shows him about the future #if Chuck is caged and Amara is free ‘the monsters win’#and Sam and Dean become monsters themselves #mine #destiel #divorce arc

43 notes · View notes

volkoss · 3 days ago

Text

Fic: The Necessity Hypothesis

While working together to rescue Rook from the Fade, Johanna tells Bellara about her attempt at lichdom.

DRAGON AGE | BELLARA & JOHANNA | WORDS: 5,175 | RATED: T

(AO3 LINK)

If Johanna were the type of woman to believe in the Maker, perhaps her current circumstances could be excused as divine retribution. In the absence of faith, however, a more mundane explanation must suffice.

Fortunately, she knows exactly where to pin the blame: every wrong she has ever faced can be traced back to Emmrich Volkarin.

Volkarin has not been subtle about his involvement when it comes to all matters involving her imprisonment. It is obvious in everything from the basic details of her physical location in his office to the structure of the wards he’d placed upon her skull: of course he’d used a personal variation of the special formulation they had developed together in simpler and happier times. He had always enjoyed such petty flourishes, and Johanna had always indulged him.

And then she must contend with the fact of her continued existence.

In her degraded state, the lich lords of the Grand Necropolis could have easily destroyed her soul in its entirety. And yet, through whatever contrivances Volkarin must have devised through collusion with fellow Watchers, Johanna has been granted this so-called mercy instead of the oblivion she had anticipated.

Given Volkarin’s intimate knowledge of Johanna’s feelings toward contrition, it had been his most masterful ploy yet. Honestly, she might’ve been impressed (perhaps even proud!) had she not been the target of his malevolent intentions.

Nonetheless, the events of the last few days—Rook’s disappearance and the newfound purpose Johanna had subsequently found in working on the replication of the lyrium dagger and the deconstruction of Solas’s prison—had her pondering the possibility that she might one day accept the reality of her new and reduced circumstances along with all the excoriating indignities it entailed.

Or she had, until Volkarin had started snoring.

It is a crude, cruel reminder of the fragility of flesh. The sound of vibrating tissue has no right to be this obnoxious! Johanna would be unsurprised to discover that this too is part and parcel of Volkarin’s diabolical plan, that he had somehow surmised forcing her to be a captive audience to his renditions of the oinks of a dying pig would cause her to reconsider her previous position on penance.

Thankfully, Johanna is saved from giving the matter any serious consideration by Bellara’s voice from the doorway, the sound of the young woman’s entry to the room having been drowned out by Volkarin’s snores.

“Oh, wow,” Bellara says, her tone one of undisguised awe intermingled with concern. “Should we check on him? Maybe?”

We, Bellara says, as though Johanna is capable of autonomous ambulation. Even if the elf were of a mind to carry Johanna to wherever Volkarin’s bed is located—and Johanna highly doubts this is the case, given the structure of the wards—Johanna is absolutely certain Bellara won’t help her smother Volkarin with a pillow. Unfortunate as the realisation might be, even Johanna can admit requesting such assistance would be an obvious waste of her time and energy.

Instead, she answers, “If Volkarin insists upon choking to death on his own breath, who are we to stop him?”

Much to Johanna’s chagrin, Bellara must assume Johanna’s question is rhetorical as she does not answer. Instead, the elf shuffles slowly backwards into Johanna’s field of vision, dragging along with her a large box near overflowing with an assortment of elven gadgetry. Much of the equipment is familiar to Johanna—resonance amplifiers, matrix calculators, Fade attenuators—even if the designs are different from those to which she is accustomed.

“Phew,” Bellara says, giving the box one final shove so it’s pressed flush up against the side of Volkarin’s desk. Wiping at her dampened brow with her shirt sleeve she adds, “I was starting to think I’d never get everything up here.”

Johanna knows better than to ask why Bellara simply hadn’t levitated the box up the stairs. Given the sheer magical energy concentrated in its contents, even Johanna wouldn’t have made such an attempt in the absence of any other choice. Although her more feeble-minded detractors might call her careless, their criticisms have always been rooted in their obvious envy of her appetite for risk.

But there had been other options available to Bellara, and Johanna is surprised the young woman hadn’t availed herself of them. Unable to mask the curiosity in her tone, she asks, “Why didn’t you ask that hulking qunari for assistance?” Given they were always in Volkarin’s office antagonising her with frivolous questions, Johanna was surprised they hadn’t thought to make themself useful for once.

“Taash?” Bellara’s eyes widen before she crosses her arms over chest and averts her gaze. “Oh, you know. I didn’t want to bother them. Or anyone.”

While the answer is suspicious, Johanna frankly can’t find it in herself to care. She should be grateful to have the opportunity to continue working undisturbed—Volkarin’s cacophonous snoring aside—but she is distracted by a conspicuous absence in the room that takes her several moments to identify.

When the answer comes to her, she speaks without thinking. “Where’s Manfred?”

Bellara lets out a giggle of a surprise before truncating it with a hand slapped to her mouth. “Manfred?” she repeats incredulously while shaking her head, ridiculous jewellery jingling. An expression of contemplative mischief eerily reminiscent of Volkarin briefly flashes across Bellara’s face before she sobers. “I left him in the kitchen with the boys. Lucanis—Lucanis needed help with the cooking.”

Johanna has never met this ‘Lucanis’ but all things considered relative, she is endeared to him already. She can always appreciate a man with brains enough to stay out of her way, unlike Volkarin and his manservant. “That skeleton boy has gotten quite fond of ‘help’ lately,” she complains in approval.

The corner of Bellara’s lips twitch upwards. “Manfred’s been a lot of help, really!”

Johanna scoffs. “Helping himself get underfoot, more like.” But she cannot deny the utility of having somebody to whom she can dictate her thoughts and annotations, especially when Bellara is tired and complains about her hands cramping, yet another of mortality’s many stifling limitations.

Perhaps when this is all over, she’ll get the skeleton to write her memoirs.

“I just thought that he maybe, you know, could go be helpful somewhere else for a while,” Bellara continues softly. “He wants to be helpful. I can’t blame him for that. Anybody would. Want to help at a time like this, I mean.”

Something in the words makes Johanna squirm in discomfort, like a phantom twisting of the gut. She shoves the feeling aside, refusing to be left susceptible to the ghost of her erstwhile intestines. She’s not here to solve other people’s problems for them. She’s not.

But the words for a proper rebuttal to Bellara’s claim remain infuriatingly elusive.

Unbothered by Johanna’s silence, Bellara walks around to the other side of Volkarin’s desk and rests her interlaced hands on the diagrams strewn across its surface, her forehead furrowing as she looks down at the sheafs of vellum like she’s surprised to find them there. She doesn’t look up at Johanna when she continues to speak. “Besides. I thought this might be a good chance for us to get to know each other better. You know. One on one?”

While it is difficult to believe they are guaranteed any privacy given Volkarin’s snores still permeate the room from floor to ceiling, the sharp retort fades from the forefront of Johanna’s mind in light of the four following observations:

Though Volkarin had often left Johanna to her own devices while he pottered about the rest of this so-called ‘Lighthouse’, even going so far as to embark on transnational adventures (much to Johanna’s immense surprise), the network of magical mirrors which facilitated such fantastical journeys with ease made it impossible to predict the moment of Volkarin’s imminent return with any degree of precision.

Even when Volkarin himself had been absent from the Lighthouse, Manfred had more often than not remained behind. While Johanna is certain this decision had largely been due to Volkarin’s sickening sentimentality in not wanting to endanger the sack of bones again (as though that wasn’t the whole point of crafting a manservant, as though that hadn’t been the role Manfred had played with excruciating effect on the day of her humiliating defeat) she is equally certain of the skeleton’s complicity in acts of espionage: the curious creature has clearly been crafted in Volkarin’s image and is therefore most certainly a whimpering little tattletale.

Bellara Lutare, clearly more cunning than might otherwise be implied by her wide eyes and cherubic cheeks, must share Johanna’s concerns about Manfred, considering the timing of the skeleton’s exile to the kitchen.

Emmrich Volkarin is currently dead asleep (but unfortunately, only metaphorically: if he were truly dead, he wouldn’t be making such a hideous racket.)

But this means they will be immediately alerted should Volkarin start to stir.

There is one only obvious conclusion Johanna can draw in the face of the available evidence: Bellara wishes to hold a private conversation away from the prickling ears and prying eyes of those who might criticise them for speaking freely.

“Get to know each other better,” Johanna repeats, the words crashing on the shores of her consciousness like discordant waves. She should be warier: it has been a long time since anyone has asked anything of her without empty flattery or pontificating reprimand. And yet she is seized by a curiosity she does not yet understand. “What interest could I possibly have in such a thing?”

Bellara demurs, incisors worrying at her bottom lip as she weighs her next words carefully. Johanna takes some small measure of comfort in the fact that the girl is clearly more capable of learning from Volkarin’s mistakes than the man himself. Johanna is certain Bellara would not accuse her of mere puppetry; Bellara is not beholden by the same limitations—the same cowardice—that has always clouded Volkarin’s vision and judgement.

“Because I have questions,” Bellara eventually admits as she raises her head, staring unflinchingly in Johanna’s direction before adding, “And I think you have the answers.”

A silence settles between them. Silent, except for Volkarin’s snores. Johanna studies the younger woman’s face carefully, inspecting it for any trace of the insincerity she so despises. The worried furrow in Bellara’s brow is now absent, her forehead smooth and unremarkable other than the intricate facial tattoo. Her eyes are wide and bright, with no visible hint of subterfuge in her pupils.

And her jaw? Her jaw is set in grim determination.

Despite herself, Johanna is impressed. It is unlike Volkarin to make many friends of this calibre: people who are unafraid to speak the truth with the same efficacy upon which Johanna prides herself.

She’s about to respond when for some mystifying reason Bellara continues talking, and the illusion shatters.

“Sorry! I’m sorry,” Bellara apologises repeatedly and unnecessarily, taking a step back from the desk and folding into herself in a way that is again uncomfortably reminiscent of Volkarin. “That came out lopsided. Way too lopsided.”

Her gaze drops to the box by her feet as she continues. “I mean. I’m happy to answer any of your questions, too. Emmrich mentioned you didn’t know much about old elven magic, and that’s kind of my speciality. And okay, now that just sounds transactional, I—"

Johanna hastily interrupts before the second-hand embarrassment of bearing witness to another apology can sunder what remains of her soul. “—do I seem the type of woman to be bothered by transactional relationships?” she remarks acridly. “I sold my own hand to deranged cultists in exchange for silverite.”

The words have the intended effect of halting the girl’s inane rambling. She takes a shaky breath before her posture straightens once more. “Right! Okay. So, good news. I don’t require any limbs. Or other body parts. Just to be clear.” “That is good,” Johanna answers in simple agreement, “for I have precious few to spare.”

Bellara lets out a snort that rivals Volkarin’s snores in volume and indecency but is thankfully far more short-lived. “Is it really okay for us to just talk like this?”

There’s a thread of hesitance in the younger woman’s words that Johanna is both reluctant to identify but incapable of ignoring. It is obvious, too obvious, that she could pull at the stitches of Bellara’s sentences to reopen wounds that could only be sewn shut by one of the most powerful forces in the world: recognition.

But for once, Johanna feels no need to pick at the scab. In her generosity, she even offers Bellara a salve. “Why not? As you said, you have questions and I have answers. And there’s no sense in letting your little subterfuge go to waste.” Colour rises high on Bellara’s cheeks as Johanna watches with morbid fascination: the complicated interplay between nerves and vasodilation has always captivated her. While she has long since disavowed herself of any personal belief in a Maker, she can understand why the more feeble-minded feel compelled to cling to the illusion of a divine creator. While she would never admit it, even she had once found comfort in the thought that the complexities of existence had been guided by a force beyond mere mortal reckoning.

But when she had looked behind the curtain that fateful day, she had found no gods, only—

“He wanted to help in the kitchen!” Bellara argues, interrupting Johanna’s thoughts. The elf plants her hands on her hips as though the reminder of the asymmetry in their physical mobility might distract Johanna from how Bellara has implicitly confirmed her accusation.

“Indeed,” Johanna answers drily. What had she been thinking about again? Whenever her mind wandered away from it, it was difficult to return, like every scrap of her soul tensed in terror at the possibility. Firmly grounded once more in the here and now, she focuses her attention full to Bellara once more. “By the way, I’m sure Volkarin will be exhilarated to hear you encouraged his manservant to play with knives.”

Bellara’s gaze falls to the documents on the desk and mutters words Johanna can’t quite make out yet sound suspiciously like ‘…dagger is a type of knife’. “Lucanis won’t let him hurt himself,” she insists instead as she looks back up at Johanna. “Whatever,” Johanna says, already deciding to store the information at the back of her mind to scandalise Volkarin when the moment is right. “However our present circumstances came about, you were the one who claimed it was the perfect opportunity to ‘get to know each other’. For efficiency’s sake, let us assume I am amenable to such a proposal. My question is therefore simple: what was it that you wished to know?”

Johanna doesn’t even understand why she is being so amenable, except for the discomforting feeling of an unscratchable itch that only Bellara is somehow capable of reaching. What in the world is she supposed to do or say in the face of such a ridiculous realisation?

“Oh!” Bellara exclaims, face brightening as though she had never expected Johanna to actually agree. Her next words burst out in a flood of excitement. “Only everything. Is everything an option? I have so. Many. Questions.” Johanna pauses for a moment before answering but try as she might she still cannot locate any trace of mockery in Bellara’s countenance. “I would start somewhere,” she suggests nonetheless. “Volkarin won’t stay asleep forever.” But if she can perhaps keep Bellara’s interest for long enough, the young woman might be more amenable to the pillow solution.

There are many topics Johanna expects the young woman to broach first, from technical questions on her areas of magical expertise to the secrets of lichdom, of which Volkarin has exposed enough to whet his teammates’ appetites. Of course he would dangle the carrot and leave them hungering for more before retreating behind his carefully constructed mask of decency and decorum. Because it was fine, acceptable really, to break sacred oaths and promises in small amounts so long as one was careful to perform the pretence of being a good person. Ugh! It was suffocating just to imagine. And to think the blistering fool had once harboured guilt about her expulsion from the Mourn Watch when he had in fact set her free instead!

But Bellara surprises Johanna yet again. Bellara’s question is not about magic. It is barely even a question at all.

“There’s something that’s been on my mind lately. With everything going on.” Her gaze flits nervously to the blood-red sky outside the window before she refocuses her attention on Johanna. “It’s to do with the way Emmrich talks about you. How he makes you come across. Irreverent. Fearless. I used to wonder: what would it be like? To feel that way? But I think I understand now.”

She lets out a shaky breath and walks back around the desk before sitting down legs akimbo on the floor before Johanna’s skull. “When everything’s this scary, it’s like there’s no other choice. Bravery becomes a necessity.” Johanna realises too late that there had never been any chance of escaping the oncoming storm: impending doom strikes her like a thunderclap before Bellara can even utter the dreaded question.

Bellara stares up plaintively at Johanna with those wide brown eyes fixed in her best imitation of Volkarin’s puppy dog expression. “What made you so afraid?”

At first, Johanna considers not answering at all. Such an invasion of her privacy—of her mind—would be impertinent even if conducted by Volkarin, and she has known the man near forty-five years. But Volkarin had never asked! Volkarin had not once stopped to consider if she was even capable of fear. Not until recently. And thus, she had always kept it buried deep. To protect him. To protect herself.

Yet, Bellara had asked the question. And Johanna had promised an answer. To fall silent now would be an act of cowardice. Bellara would undoubtedly come to the erroneous conclusion that Johanna feared fear itself. The mere thought of such catastrophic cockamamie making its way back to Volkarin sends a spike of revulsion through her so visceral it almost makes her wish she was still capable of death.

An answer, then. “I felt fear once.” She can confess that much at least. “During my attempt at lichdom.” Bellara nods, gaze turning to thoughtful from pleading. She’s clearly mollified by this explanation. Relief of unknown origins floods Johanna to her very core.

“That was going to one of my questions,” Bellara admits. “I asked Emmrich about it once. About how it works. Being half-undead, I mean.”

“Poorly.” Johanna’s immediate answer slips out before she can even think about it. How else could she describe the way her soul beats constantly against the inside of her own skull, desperate to escape not only Volkarin’s wards but her own ritual bonds? If only Volkarin’s concentration would lapse! Then she could undo the magic herself once she had located a willing host.

She could be free again.

Bellara’s brow knits as she considers Johanna’s answer. “Okay, but surely there are some benefits, right? I mean. Maybe not in your current situation. But before that? You didn’t have to like, breathe?” “Who said that?” Johanna asks, but this is an example of a question that is actually rhetorical: it would have been Volkarin, of course. The imbecile has always been incapable of keeping his mouth shut. “Pah! It doesn’t matter. You’re right, of course. The shutdown of the body’s organs begins early into the lichdom ritual. I terminated the process before this step could reach completion.” Bellara leans in, resting her chin on the heels of her hands like an eager apprentice being read a bedtime story. “Terminated?”

“Yes, yes, terminated, aborted, whatever nomenclature you might wish to use. Why else did you think I had no eyes while my skin looked like that?”

“I, um. You know what, I hadn’t really thought about it!” Bellara answers a little too quickly for Johanna’s liking. “But you’re basically immortal. Is that why you stopped?” Sometimes Johanna forgets how little the outside world knows about lichdom and all the complexities it entails. Does Bellara know Johanna is the only person to have even made an attempt in the last two and a half ages? Of course not. The only people who would know or care are stuck in the dusty crypts of the Necropolis, determined to play dead while still very much gloriously alive.

It would be easy to lie to Bellara, but Johanna doesn’t think the younger woman will be fooled forever. Once Bellara gleans more understanding of the intricacies involved (and of course she will, given Volkarin’s propensity toward diarrhoea of the mouth) she would surely wonder why Johanna had not gone the route of a simple possession.

Then there was the problem of the confession, of course: I felt fear once. The little admission she’d made as part of this agreement she had accidentally stumbled into due to her inability to refrain from pursuing her own curiosity.

And here she had thought it was that wisp who lacked a healthy sense of self-preservation!

Once again, Bellara is waiting for an answer, and once again, Johanna is obliged to provide one.

“No. I stopped because it was going wrong.” “Wrong… how?” Bellara asks as she shuffles even closer to Johanna’s skull stand.

“Wrong…” How does she even begin explaining to someone who has never been a Watcher, who has not spent their formative years—and several decades thereafter—shrouded by death and its promise of finality? She changes tack. “Tell me, girl. What do you know about soul transference?” “Oh. Um. That’s right! Prof—Emmrich told me about that. I think. It’s got to do with the Nevarran belief of…how did he put it again? The souls of the departed displacing spirits in the Fade. Right?” “It’s certainly related, yes,” Johanna confirms. While Bellara’s answer is over-simplified, she suspects neither of them are currently in the mood to debate the eternal question. Bellara because she hasn’t done the readings, and Johanna because not only had she argued about it bitterly enough back in her Mourn Watch days, she was also now certain of the truth despite lacking the evidence to prove it.

She pushes the prickling unease aside and recentres herself as she continues. “One of the fundamental functions of lichdom involves the binding of one’s soul to the body by conscious choice instead of through the accident of birth. As a mage yourself, you would be well aware of how a physical form—alive or undead—allows for the more focused channelling of magic. It is why wisps and lesser spirits are limited in how they can affect our world. Of course, the mortal form is limited in its own ways. Tissue. Muscle. Tendons. All weak. All incompatible with allowing a mage to reach her full potential. Hence why the rites of lichdom also involve rapid bodily decomposition, leaving nothing behind but bones.”

Bellara, Johanna notes, looks rather green in the face. How little other cultures surrounded themselves with the realities of death and dying, one of the only truly unifying forces in the world! Ignoring the younger woman’s pallor, Johanna continues.

“Naturally, this would invoke the death of the mortal form. Sensible, as one cannot become undead without dying. When the rites are performed under the auspices of the Mourn Watch, the candidate is usually killed by another Watcher first. A ritual slaughter. Then an autopsy, to remove preferred organs for sentimental preservation.”

Even now, Johanna can’t help but wonder which initial incision Volkarin would’ve chosen to receive should he have been brave enough to make the attempt. A clean and efficient severing of the brain stem? Or would he have preferred the spectacle of a blade between the ribs, puncturing his heart?

“Should…” Bellara starts, her face now near-white with dawning realisation. “Should you be telling me all this?”

“Who is going to stop me?” Johanna answers sharply. “Volkarin?” As though his ears are burning, he lets out a particularly loud snore. “Those other simple-minded Mourn Watch fools? They would have to get here first.” If Johanna could grin, she would. It is only now she realises that she has wanted to talk about this for a very long time, but that she has never had anybody to tell. “Returning to the matter of soul transference, just as they can draw a spirit into a corpse, an experienced Watcher is capable of stalling a soul’s return to the Fade, usually through the transfer of the soul to a suitable container. Which I had prepared. What I did not properly anticipate was the additional difficulty given my chosen method of death.” “You had to kill yourself?” Bellara asks, mouth dropping open in abject horror. “Is that why? Why you were so scared, I mean.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Johanna snaps, unable to identify why the question rankles her so. She has never feared death, has never understood the fear of death, has never been able to comprehend the terror with which Volkarin has always regarded the inevitability of oblivion. It did not make sense to Johanna, would never make sense to her, that the chicken-hearted milksop could spend almost his entire life in the bowels of the Grand Necropolis, helping to keep watch over its dead and all the related rites, while not coming to the same conclusion she had: that death was a comfort, an escape from suffering and pain. Death was the cocooning warmth of a lover’s embrace. Death was an escape. A certainty. Mercy.

When a farmer watched his dying dog, did he not ready his weapon instead of wringing his hands?

“You’re mistaking me for Volkarin,” she eventually clarifies. That must be it, the source of her discomfort. “No. What scared me is not only what I saw while I was dying, but the thought I might never witness it again.” Johanna didn’t think it possible, but Bellara’s mouth drops open even further.

Anticipating the girl’s next question, Johanna continues. “I glimpsed the Void itself!” she exclaims, her voice reverberating around Volkarin’s office so loudly that his amassed collection of skulls shakes on his shelves. “What you Dalish refer to as the Abyss. And in its depths, I tasted power no human has ever harnessed before: the very building blocks of reality!

“The sheer force of the place pulled my soul away from my carefully crafted container and toward that eternal vortex. While I had long accepted death as a potential consequence of my attempt, I did not consider it a likely outcome. I had… contingencies. The Void’s grip on my soul was far too strong, and I was forced to sever the connection. An amputation, if you may.”

Bellara runs her hands down her face, rubbing at her eyes as though that might help with the comprehension of the totality of Johanna’s explanation. She takes several deep steadying breaths before speaking. “Okay. Okay. What you’re saying is part of your soul is wandering about the Abyss. Right? Am I understanding this correctly?” “It was not an intended outcome,” Johanna concedes. “But the primary consequence is that I am no longer able to master new magic—which I’m sure Volkarin has already told you all about.” He has always made such a sport of exposing her weaknesses, like a toddler unable to resist poking at a flowering bruise.

All the while, she desperately tries not to think about what had really scared her the day she’d died, what has gripped her with terror ever since: the truth that not only had she stared into the depths of the Void and borne witness to the sheer power concentrated within—power that might remain forever out of reach!—but that the Void itself had also looked into her, yet found her wanting.

“If I’d had assistance,” Johanna continues quietly, “it would have been different. I could have been killed first instead of attempting multiple rites simultaneously. At the very least, another pair of hands would have kept my soul steady.”

I swear I would've helped had you come to me.

Lies, lies, lies! She can’t believe him, because the alternative is too terrible to bear. Volkarin has always been a liar, and she must continue clinging to this undeniable truth.

“But it’s as you said. I had no other choice. It was a necessity.”

To Johanna’s horror, Bellara looks like she’s about to cry; at this distance, she can even see tears forming at the rims of the younger woman’s eyeballs. Bellara draws her knees into herself as she whispers, “You must have felt so alone.”

A heavy silence blankets the room, suffocating in its weight. Fortunately, this time Bellara does not ask the dreaded questions: why had it been necessary? Why then? If she had, Johanna is not certain she could have answered.

Wait… silence?

Try as she might, Johanna cannot make out any more of Volkarin’s snores. Had he stopped? Was he waking?

Bellara must have come to the same conclusion, because she immediately scuttles backwards while wiping at her eyes, propelling herself away as though Johanna’s mere proximity might lead to inevitable moral corruption.

From the higher level of Volkarin’s office, there is a strange scraping sound akin to a sliding bookshelf before the man himself stumbles down the stairs in a ridiculous fluffy dressing grown tied loosely around the middle of his torso, thrown over striped pyjamas. Although his hair is tousled—distractingly so—his eyes are brighter. Brighter than Johanna has seen in days.

When he notices Bellara sitting on the floor of his office, his mouth briefly slips open in surprise, so quick that anyone other than Johanna would have missed it. He soon reschools his expression before steepling his hands together, grave gold glittering on his fingers and wrists.

“I do hope I haven’t been bothering you!” Volkarin exclaims with the effacing charm which fools so many others but will never hoodwink her. “My snores must have been so frightfully loud—they even woke me up in the end!” Bellara clambers to her feet, blocking Johanna from view and answering Volkarin’s question before Johanna has a chance to get a word in edgewise. “Of course not, Professor!” she lies, buttering Volkarin with the tactical application of flattering insincerity.

“Johanna and I are even becoming friends,” she continues. “I think.” What. Before Johanna can think of an appropriate response—frustrating, really, how often this girl leaves her speechless—Volkarin interrupts. “Johanna! Is this true?”

She searches the recesses of her mind for a suitable deflection (only so she can buy more time to find the proper words to describe the inanity of this entire situation, mind you) and recalls the conversation she’d had with Bellara about Manfred’s current whereabouts.

“Volkarin,” she drawls, “your research assistant encouraged your manservant to play with knives.”

“Cooking!” Bellara clarifies. “Manfred’s helping Lucanis with the cooking.” For some maddening reason, Volkarin laughs.

#johanna hezenkoss #bellara lutare #emmrich volkarin #datv spoilers #therapy still doesn't exist in thedas so this time bellara gets to be johanna's therapist while emmrich catches up on his beauty sleep!#don't worry bellara will get her turn in the next installment 😮‍💨#series: enduring friendships #ziskfic

38 notes · View notes

atsro-slut · 2 days ago

Note

I'm in a comfort fic mood, and I was thinking about reader x James, with reader being anxious/feeling guilty about all the financial stuff that comes with Christmas? Like her feeling guilty about all the money James spends on her - and their money that they spend on presents? I'd love that, thank you lovely! 🥰

The Cost of Christmas

So I def should've done this before the holidays but yk...

James Potter x Female!reader

Y/N's anxiety about the cost of Christmas gifts gets the best of her, but when James reminds her that love is the greatest gift of all, the holiday season suddenly feels a whole lot lighter.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:☆

The air at Hogwarts was growing colder by the day, and the snow that fell in delicate flakes outside the windows of the Gryffindor common room painted the world in a blanket of white. Christmas was just around the corner, and though the festive atmosphere was ever-present, Y/N couldn’t shake the knot of unease growing in her stomach.

Everywhere she looked, students were preparing for the holiday season. Some were busy decorating the common room with glittering lights, while others talked excitedly about the presents they’d already bought or were planning to give. Y/N watched it all from her seat near the fireplace, feeling like an outsider to the merriment. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Christmas—she did. It was just that, this year, everything felt... different.

James Potter, her boyfriend of nearly a year, sat beside her, his usual energy contagious. He was grinning ear to ear, bouncing with excitement for the upcoming holiday. The bright lights from the tree reflected off his glasses, making his eyes sparkle with uncontainable joy. He was making a list of ideas for presents, talking animatedly about his plans for the holidays.

Y/N smiled faintly, but the anxiety gnawing at her chest only seemed to grow as he continued. She’d been hearing the same kind of talk for weeks—about the grand gifts he was getting for everyone, including her. But as much as she loved him, every time he mentioned spending money on her, her stomach twisted.

She tried to focus on his words, but all she could think about was the way his pockets were always so full—of galleons, sickles, and knuts. James came from a wealthy family, and money seemed to flow effortlessly through his hands. It made Y/N feel uncomfortable. She wasn’t rich like he was. Her parents worked hard, but they weren’t well-off. She wasn’t used to lavish gifts, and she certainly wasn’t used to someone like James spending so much on her.

She shifted in her seat, trying to hide the worry that had been steadily growing inside her. She didn’t want to burden him with her concerns, but it felt wrong to accept his generosity so easily. It felt like she was taking advantage of him, and that thought alone made her stomach churn.

“You okay, Y/N?” James’s voice cut through her thoughts, and she looked up to find him watching her, his brow furrowed in concern. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

She blinked, startled. “Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine. Just... thinking about everything.” She gave him a weak smile, hoping it would reassure him.

James didn’t seem convinced. “You sure? You’ve been looking a little off since I started talking about presents.” He leaned closer, his expression softening. “You know you don’t have to worry about anything, right?”

Y/N forced herself to nod, though the words she wanted to say caught in her throat. She didn’t want to ruin the holiday spirit, especially not with James, who was so full of joy. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful or spoil his excitement.

“I know,” she said quietly, though it didn’t feel like the truth. “I just... I don’t want you to feel like you have to spend so much on me. You already do enough, James.”

James raised an eyebrow, his smile faltering for a second. “What are you talking about?” He shook his head, a little confused. “It’s Christmas, Y/N. It’s supposed to be about giving, not about worrying.”

She swallowed, guilt making her voice tremble. “I know, but... it’s just a lot. You’ve already spent so much on me before, and now with Christmas... I don’t know, I just feel bad.” Her words were tumbling out before she could stop them. “My family doesn’t have as much money as yours. I’m not used to... to all of this. I don’t want you to think I’m just accepting everything because I don’t care about how much it costs.”

James’s face softened, and he reached out to gently take her hand. “Y/N, look at me.” His tone was serious now, and there was no teasing, no playful gleam in his eyes. “I want to give you things. I want to spoil you. I love you, and that’s what you do for the people you love.” He squeezed her hand gently. “Don’t you ever think that I’m doing this because I feel like I have to. I’m doing it because I want to.”

Y/N bit her lip, feeling the heat of tears pricking at the back of her eyes. She couldn’t meet his gaze. She didn’t know why this was making her feel so guilty. It wasn’t like James had ever pressured her into anything, and he’d never made her feel bad about not having as much money as he did. Still, the disparity between their financial situations hung over her, unspoken but ever-present.

James noticed her discomfort, and his thumb traced small circles over the back of her hand in a soothing gesture. “Hey, no need to feel guilty. I promise you, you’re not a burden. I love giving you presents—it makes me happy to see you smile. I don’t care about the cost. It’s about the thought behind it.”

Y/N shook her head, still feeling conflicted. “But I do care. I don’t want you to spend all that money on me when you don’t have to.”

“Y/N...” James’s voice was gentle but firm. “You’re worth it. Don’t let your own insecurities get in the way of this. I love you. That’s all that matters to me.”

She blinked back the tears threatening to spill. “But it’s not just about presents, James,” she whispered, feeling the weight of everything she hadn’t said until now. “I feel like I’m always taking from you. I don’t have the money to spend on you like you do on me. It makes me feel... less. Like I’m not doing enough for you.”

James’s face softened even more, and for a moment, Y/N could see the seriousness of his affection for her in the way his eyes softened. He moved closer, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace. “Y/N, that’s not how this works. I don’t want you to spend a single galleon on me if it makes you feel bad. It’s not about that. What I want from you is... you. Your time. Your love. Your presence. That’s all I need.”

Y/N leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his arms wrap around her, the tension in her chest slowly melting away. She inhaled the scent of him, a comforting mixture of the outdoors and something uniquely James. “I just don’t want you to think that I’m taking advantage of you,” she mumbled against his chest.

James chuckled softly, a gentle sound that rumbled through his chest. “I promise you, you’re not. You don’t have to buy me anything. All I need is you by my side. That’s the greatest gift I could ever ask for.”

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her heart swelling with affection. “I know I can’t give you everything you give me, but I want you to know I care just as much.”

James grinned, reaching up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to give me anything, Y/N. You already do. You’re my everything, and that’s enough for me.”

She smiled, feeling lighter than she had in days. The weight of guilt that had been pressing on her chest was finally starting to lift. Christmas wasn’t about money, she realized. It was about love, about spending time with the people who mattered most. And James, despite his wealth and his desire to spoil her, understood that better than anyone.

“Okay,” she whispered, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. “I’ll try not to worry so much.”

James kissed her forehead, pulling her closer once more. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you.”

As the fire crackled softly in the background and the snow continued to fall outside, Y/N knew that no amount of money could ever replace what they had together. Christmas wasn’t about expensive gifts or lavish gestures—it was about love, and she had more than enough of that with James.

And that, she realized, was all she needed.

#Astros Fics #james potter #marauders #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james fleamont potter #marauders fandom #harry potter marauders #marauders fanfiction #dead wizards from the 70s #hp marauders #marauders era #peter pettigrew #sirius black #remus lupin #the black brothers

30 notes · View notes

clarisse0o · 18 hours ago

Text

The Mayor - Chapter 4

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 1000

Masterlist

———————————————————————

"And then, she hits me with a 'I hope I didn’t throw you off!' Can you believe it? She’s a woman who wants to control everything and enjoys provoking people—provoking me specifically!"

“Well, this sounds promising,” Alessia teased. “I didn’t think she was like that; she seemed nice at the kids' Christmas party at the hospital.”

“Oh yeah, the Dragon has two faces! They’re the worst kind. She’s a real actress.”

Sitting in Alessia’s living room, we’d just finished a platter of sushi. She was laughing. Alessia, with her Italian roots, had long blond hair and bright eyes. Her laughter and infectious joy made her even more beautiful.

“The Dragon isn’t so bad to look at; you can always admire her if it helps,” she replied with a playful smile.

“Sure, with that personality, I almost didn’t notice her at all,” I replied, with a hint of bad faith.

I leaned in and pressed my lips against hers. Our tongues met in a lively dance as my hands moved along her back and then under her shirt to touch her soft, warm skin. She suddenly pulled away from my embrace.

“Is something wrong?”

“No… it’s just… we talked about this, how we should stop if we want to move on.”

She said it in a weary voice, and I frowned.

“Did you meet someone?”

“No, it’s not that. But how can we move on if we keep ending up in bed every few days?”

We’d been apart for almost a year now, without drama but with a lot of sadness. She was in a surgical program that would take her to Canada in a year, and her schedule was relentless. And with my own demanding schedule, our lives had gradually drifted apart. After yet another breakup and the usual reproaches, we’d separated. We hadn’t been in touch for months until I reached out a few weeks ago. Her scent, her voice, her laughter—I’d missed it all. And, of course, we ended up in each other’s arms, which maybe wasn’t the best idea. Since then, although neither of us considered getting back together, rarely a week went by without us finding ourselves together again.

Her comment stung. Sarcastically, I replied, “Excuse me, but the sushi and candle setup made me think this was going somewhere else tonight.”

“Come on, don’t take it that way. It’s complicated; I want to see you too. But where are we going with this? The first one of us who meets someone just leaves? Since we’re not getting back together, right?”

She threw this at me, challenging me with her deep brown eyes, almost black.

“Are you planning to work fewer than 150 hours a week? And not going to Canada?”

I’d hit a sore spot—Canada, the real cause of our breakup. She’d accepted the program without consulting me, and I’d felt left out of her life as she forged her own path without me.

“Do we really have to talk about this again? You know my workload will be much lighter in a year, and you could have come to Canada!”

“Oh sure, like I was so well included in your great plans! I’d just bought my firm, and then you announced all this! So no, let’s not talk about it. Anyway, after today, I’m done here. I’m leaving.”

I grabbed my coat and headed toward the door. She followed me immediately, grabbing my arm, pushing me against the wall, taking my face in her hands, and leaning in close to my ear.

“Stay. It’s too hard. I need you.”

Her words electrified my entire body. I let my coat drop and kissed her passionately. Our tongues joined in a fierce rhythm as I leaned against the wall, breathless. Alessia unbuttoned my blouse, letting it fall immediately. She began to kiss my neck, moving slowly down to my breasts, which she caressed gently. Her tongue circled my hardened nipples, aroused by the waves of desire flooding through my body. Her hand wandered along my thigh, moving dangerously close to my lower belly. She unbuttoned my jeans, slipping them down; I was at her mercy now, in only my black thong, standing before her. As she continued to tease my nipples, her hand gently stroked me through my underwear. She began applying pressure to my clit, making me moan even louder. She then moved lower with her mouth. I decided to shed the last barrier between us. She started kissing my intimate area, licking my lips while lightly touching my clit. She knew me by heart—my body, how to make me feel pleasure. Feeling my excitement, she slid one finger, then two, inside me, moving them faster and faster, while never stopping her tantalizing strokes with her tongue. The pleasure built within me like a sudden fire. My moans grew louder, my hands in her hair. I moved my body to feel her tongue, her fingers, her , even more deeply within me. I finally climaxed, shuddering with pleasure. She slowly moved back up, covering my body with kisses until she reached my lips and gently bit them. I felt so vulnerable, naked in front of her while she was still fully dressed. I smiled.

“What are you smiling about, miss?” she asked, with a mischievous grin.

“I think I’m standing naked in a hallway in front of a fully clothed person; we might need to remedy this. Would you happen to have a bedroom?”

We laughed heartily. I took her hand and led her to her bedroom—our former bedroom—ready to put her through the same wonderful torment.

#woso #lucy bronze #woso community #ona batlle #barca femeni #woso soccer #lionesses #sefutbol fem #ona batlle x lucy bronze

35 notes · View notes

kaga-kuros · 2 days ago

Text

okay soooo i started translating my kgkr fic which still hasn't seen the light, not even in my native language soooooo i wanted to know what you guys thought??? please???????? i accept non-constructive criticism thank u bye

for context, this is a firefighter kagami x kindergarten teacher kuroko where kuroko takes care of kagami's twins and they meet... under certain circumstances. anygaysss here goes a (not so) little wip of chapter 1 :D

Take me back to the fire behind your eyes – a very KagaKuro fanfiction.

He'd been considering it for a while.

It had been exactly four years since he graduated from college, three since he managed to get a pretty good job as a teacher at a kindergarten near his apartment, two since his life started spiraling down a routine, just like most of his friends had told him.

And one since he started to feel his passion had been burnt down forever.

Kids were something he'd always loved. From a young age he possessed the magic-like ability to make them fall asleep just by holding them in his hands for just a few minutes –something that didn't go unnoticed by his aunties and some of his mother's friends, as they always asked him to take care of their children–, and somehow he never got bothered by them. He found himself having good times whenever he was around children, and it was just a matter of time until he felt that this was his calling – this was something he could use to make a living out of himself in the near future, powered by the need to protect and take care of those little bundles of joy. It was just the right thing to do, he'd thought at the moment.

It came as unsurprising as his very presence when he told his most loved ones he wanted to be a kindergarten teacher, and his father as well as his mother showed him all the support and love from always, knowing very well that their young Tetsuya would be more than perfect to fulfill his chosen role.

And he was – for a while.

His first job was at a daycare center, the only one the city he grew up in had at the moment. Every other school in the area was already full staffed, so it wasn't possible for him to apply to a bigger school, like he'd been looking out for. That didn't discourage him, as he knew it wasn't going to be an easy task to find the perfect job on the first try, and ended up taking the place as the youngest teacher ever since the daycare opened.

To say the kids liked him was an understatement. The first day he had at least four different kids crying their eyes out as he waved them goodbye, and this was more than enough for the rest of the staff to keep the name of Kuroko Tetsuya on their lips for the rest of the week. Everyone was surprised at how easily Tetsuya's personality acted like a magnet, making the kids get attached to him and, in consequence, it was easier for him to handle them.

This, of course, got him the full-time position he deserved.

Thanks to that he started to plan on the next step of his initial plan: he wanted to move. From the very beginning he knew he wouldn't be able to fulfill his dreams by staying at that small city, and although he had in mind he'd get hurt if he had to leave his family as well as his friends and colleagues, he knew the reward would make everything matter if he moved to the nearest big city.

It took him a few months to make it happen, and suddenly he was looking through the window of his new apartment; the entire metropolis was alive a few meters down him, filled with different things – vehicles and noises and people (a lot of people) all new to him. Everything was new to him, especially the colorful variety of new noises that filled his senses.

Luckily for him, it didn't take long to get used to everything that was new.

He'd been applying to different job positions in different schools from the city, a few weeks before he got the apartment, so it wasn't hard for him to get a job. In fact he got hired a week later he finished moving, and it made everything easier for him. The way to his new school was a little longer than he'd had liked – he had to take a train and a bus. But that was fine, as long as he could start working and getting closer and closer to his dream.

But everything started to change when he decided to move, again. Once he got himself a full-time position in the same school, it meant it was time to get closer to the main building. Having to take two different kinds of transportation every day was starting to take a toll on him, and he really needed to sleep a little more every day if he wanted to be as concentrated as possible. His new job was as good as the first one, with friendly colleagues and all different kinds of children coming and going every day. Everything was good with him, so he always felt motivated to go to his job and do what he was best at.

Everything was going really well, even for Kuroko. He didn't want to get discouraged, much less feel like he wasn't on his way to fulfill his dream.

Everything… until he could hear the silence.

Every aspect of his life had always been silent, almost transparent. His friends always told him he was some kind of ghost, as his presence was almost nonexistent everywhere he went. It was easy for him to go unnoticed to everything and everyone that went near him, as long as it wasn't paying any attention to him. So he was used to being silent. If you were looking out for him during recess, the best place you were going to find him was the most silent place a school could have: the library.

Silence was something that lived with him every second of his life.

But now, laying on his bed, surrounded by the four thick walls of his bedroom – he could feel this silence, hear it.

And suddenly he understood this silence was trying to tell him something was off.

At first he tried to ignore the sound, trying his best to think of this as just a phase his life was going through and it was about to end. But as the routine went on and on, it convinced him that he was wrong. Everything was real, what he felt was real, and everything was now lifeless, boring. Boring…

Yes, his life got boring.

His life… and his job.

He'd lost the fire that burnt inside his heart when he thought about his job.

That morning he felt like a complete stranger as he got ready to go out. The night before he started to see it, blinking his eyes constantly to understand how everything started to lose its color – leaving a dull-colored sight behind him with every step towards his apartment. The feeling of loneliness and monotony overwhelmed him as he tried to enjoy a cup of tea before going to bed, trying his best to focus on the tick-tock of his clock to see if it'd stop so he could look for a solution, but it was impossible. Silence started to devour him, and he felt its canines crack every one of his bones as he turned and tossed on his bed – this meant another night without sleeping.

He was trapped in a routine, and its silence made it harder for him to focus on anything besides every single detail that haunted him, the same ones he hadn't had the chance to notice before it was too late. He felt desperate, and it took him a while to finally calm down, but his mind stopped orbiting around the same thoughts he had been having every night since he understood what was happening.

How was he supposed to face the everything he used to love, now turned into nothing?

It was odd. The way he put on his clothes, the way he got up from his futon – even the way he breathed felt… odd. As if he wanted to get them off him. As if they weren't part of him, as if he was just living a weird illusion and he just had to wake up.

But he was awake, and he was living this illusion.

All of these sensations kept him company all the way to his school, whispering into his ears how he should not forget what he feels, because they were going to live with him from that moment and forever. It was really bothersome, and Kuroko prayed it would disappear before he could reach the school, but it only made it worse. He could hear the silence laugh at him as he walked towards the main building of the school, and shivered with every step closer he got to the east side of the campus, right where the school’s daycare center was.

That place was beautiful, filled with trees and flowers everywhere, which made it completely different to the concrete-filled rest of the school. The daycare main building consisted of an old house, painted with different colors to make it kid friendly, and it was surrounded by a beautiful meadow – exclusive for the little kids. Kuroko's first days at the place were filled with smiles as the entire place made his heart and his mind feel safe and at ease.

But that morning, with that heavy feeling on top of his shoulders, all he could do was breathe in and close his eyes.

“I wish all of this would disappear.”

He stopped his steps almost instantly, the same way his mind went blank, and could feel the pressure of his silence make its way into his stomach. How could he ever think that? That wasn't him – not even during his worst days would he ever dare to think about that place in that way.

But the truth was far different from that, and just for a second, he left his mind to think about it…

What would happen if he simply disappeared?

He started walking again as soon as he got rid of those thoughts, and tried his best to smile a little before finally going into the building. It got a little hard once he started saying hello to everyone, realizing every little detail about the routine that was haunting him, and couldn't get rid of the sensations until he finally was inside his classroom.

“Good morning.”

Kuroko's voice echoed throughout the whole room as soon as he closed the door, and every one of the little kids turned their heads to see who was there. Tetsuya smiled, and two of them rushed to greet him, as excited as always.

“Tetsu-sensei! Tetsu-sensei!” they said, and Kuroko's smile grew bigger as he saw the two smacks of red hair moving across the room until they were right in front of him. That was a big surprise, to have them there this early.

“Hiroki-kun, Hiroto-kun, what are you guys doing here?” he asked, getting on his knees so he could pick them up. One of them hugged their teacher by his neck, and the other just stared at his face, smiling. “Weren’t you supposed to be home for one more week?”

“Daddy had to go back to work,” replied Hiroki, pressing his hands on Kuroko's chest. Kuroko blinked, feeling those little hands slightly pulling on his clothes, and could see the way Hiroki’s eyes lost their brightness for a second before he smiled again. His brother just kept hugging his teacher. “But that's okay because we can finally see you again, Tetsu-sensei. We missed you so much!”

Hiroki's smile grew bigger at his own confession, and wrapped his arms around Tetsuya's neck, just like his brother. Kuroko smiled, pressing them a little harder against his chest and then left them on the floor again. He asked them to go play with the other kids for a moment as he needed to get ready for the day, and both nodded with a bright smile, leaving him alone.

Those two were the daycare’s twins Hiroki and Hiroto Kagami, as well as the older kids at the place, with both of them being three years old. When Kuroko started working at that place, the twins were already there for almost a year, and that made them the kids that stayed the longest at the daycare. The first few months Kuroko felt a little sorry for them, since they used to spend little to no time with their parents, and most of the times he had to wave them goodbye was while their grandparents were there to bring them home. It wasn't strange to think the twins’ parents didn't care for them at all, but he thought that it didn't matter as long as he could take care of them inside those four walls. He was just determined to make sure they felt all the love and care they didn't get at home.

And he really, really was determined. When he met them the twins were extremely introverted, and Kuroko found it weird as they had more than a year surrounded by all of those kids. They did play with the rest, but they seemed to act when other kids asked them to do something, and not by their own decision. To Kuroko, that meant he had to do something, to get them out of that state before it became a serious problem. To help them smile. The rest of the teachers told him a little about the twins' past, helping him understand the reasons behind such strange behavior, but also about the challenge that it was going to be.

But he was there for that, and there was nothing that could stop him from getting what he wanted.

He tried to be strong, the strongest he's ever been in his life, but sometimes the pressure around his heart felt unbearable. Most of the teachers told him to not let it get to him, as he had all of the tools to make sure the kids were being well taken care of, but it was impossible for him not to get carried away by his own emotions.

After all, he thought, how do you recover from the loss of one the most important person in your life that was your own mother?

Even the action of thinking about it made his throat go sore. He tried to get into their shoes, for just a second, but he felt worse every time. That didn't stop him from trying, and by the end of the day he learnt to walk alongside them, trying to see the world the way they did, trying to feel everything the way they felt it.

Little by little and guided by Tetsuya's hand, the twins' behavior started to change, and that meant the teacher's work was paying off. Sometimes he'd ask his grandmother to help him with recipes for sweet treats he could give the little ones, and took advantage of those moments to ask the Kagamis about what they liked, what they hated, and get to know them a little more.

With that, in less than a year Hiroki and Hiroto were completely different children – there wasn't a single day they weren't playing around and laughing.

Especially when their beloved Tetsu-sensei was around.

Kuroko's smile made its way to his lips as he finished tying up his apron –which was all decorated with little handprints–, and turned his gaze to the twins', whose laugh filled the entire room like every other day. The pressure on his stomach felt lighter.

“Now, what do you think about playing a little game?”

Every one of the kids turned their attention to the teacher, and the entire room lit up with the brightness in their eyes. All the possible games they could play started coming one by one out of their mouths, and Kuroko smiled with a sigh, trying his best to listen to all of their requests. Just like every other morning, it started once again…

The rest of the day went smoothly and calm, with just two or three kids crying because of a fight or a bruise. It was the first time in a while Tetsuya didn't feel too tired, and somehow everything felt oddly calm for his usual days at the job. He didn't stop, and he barely had any time to rest before the kids went to sleep for their evening nap, the perfect moment for him to finally have lunch.

Fortunately for him, he wouldn't have to spend his lunch time all alone.

“Hiroto, let Tetsu-sensei… finish his… meal,” said Hiroki between yawns, tired of holding his own head with his hand as he supported himself on the table, right next to Kuroko. The teacher smiled, and quickly placed his hand in front of Hiroki right before his forehead fell flat on top of the table, finally letting himself fall asleep.

“Shut up, Hiroki…” replied the other twin, giving an even bigger yawn than his brother's, still refusing to fall asleep. Kuroko smiled again, ready to catch him as soon as he closed his eyes, and saw Hiroto still playing with his toys. “We can't let… Tetsu-sensei eat alone. That's not what a gentleman does, like daddy says!”

Kuroko smiled, and fought the urge to laugh as he stretched his arm towards Hiroto, successfully catching him before he smacked his head against the table, just like his brother. Tetsuya sighed, surprised at what came out of the twins' head – everyday they seemed to get more and more interesting. Especially when they mentioned their father. In fact they were always talking about their father to Kuroko, and this made the teacher get curious about this mysterious man he hadn't had the pleasure to meet yet. Still, the way the twins described him, Kuroko couldn't help but think he would probably be a really interesting person.

And he let himself think a little more about it as he left the kids at their usual sleeping place, trying to picture someone similar to the kids, but just taller and bigger. The twins lost their mother when they were just one year old, so all they had left was their father, who seemed to have a tight agenda. Most of the times the twins were already at the daycare, so he never had the chance to meet Mr. Kagami in the flesh.

His thoughts drifted off as he finally stood in silence inside the room, the only noise that echoed inside being the birds outside, and his own thoughts, who started to get a little too hard to ignore for his own good. He blinked, trying to get back to reality, and suddenly found himself sitting down the only window the room had, with a book opened on top of his lap and the twins sleeping next to them. He breathed deeply, covered them with a blanket before ruffling their hair, and went back to his book.

However, it was getting a little hard, as the words seemed to disappear from the book as he tried to read them, and every page he turned it got more and more difficult to concentrate. Everything was coming back to him, pressing itself onto his stomach once again, and making his entire body freeze. He was really tired, and he needed to get rid of this sensation before something really bad happened, but it was almost impossible.

He felt himself get away from the room…

“Tetsu-sensei! Tetsu-sensei!”

His entire body started to feel warmer and warmer, feeling the silence from before burning up until every inch of his body was covered in warmth. Until he opened his eyes again, and all he could see was smoke and fire and everything turning into nothing, right in front of his eyes.

“Tetsu-sensei!” screamed Hiroki again, pulling a little harder at Tetsuya's clothes, while Hiroto used both hands to move his teacher's shoulders. It took him a while, but Tetsuya finally woke up, and the twins felt relieved.

“Hiroki-kun? Hiroto-kun? What is going on?”

Tetsuya’s mind was a complete disaster, and it took him a while to regain consciousness – at least enough to concentrate on what was happening around them. The entire room was filled with smoke, and his heart stopped for a second when he saw the fire trying to consume everything. And he reacted.

“It’s fire! Something is burning!” said Hiroki as Hiroto hugged Kuroko. His entire body was shaking, and his brother seemed to be in the same state. Kuroko hugged Hiroki, too, and tried getting up with both of them in his arms.

Every inch of the room was filled with smoke, which gave Tetsuya at least a glimpse of the time the fire had been active, as well as its intensity. Despair filled his lungs alongside the smoke as he tried looking everywhere, to check no one was still there with him, and finally started walking towards the door as he found themselves being the only ones inside.

The smoke was even worse outside, and Tetsuya coughed as he opened the door, which made all the oxygen and air from the hall rush into the room. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, especially since the twins were hanging off him with all the strength their little hands could offer. But he couldn’t stop. He needed to get out of there and get the children to safety, even if it meant to put his own life in danger.

Carefully he started to walk through the hall, focusing on walking towards the exit, but the smoke was growing thicker with every step. At some point he had to breathe again, and could feel his lungs getting filled with anything but oxygen, but he was a few steps away from the exit. His legs hurt like hell, and he felt he was losing the last of his air.

Unfortunately, he was also just one step away from tripping over something he couldn’t see, and fell to the floor, with the kids on top of him. A powerful groan as well as the last of his oxygen left his body when his back crashed against the wooden floor. He forced himself to fall onto his back so the children wouldn’t get hurt, but got himself terribly injured in the process, making his head a little dizzy.

And he tried his best to stabilize himself, but his vision started to get blurry as the last of his oxygen finally left his lungs. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness once again was the kids, desperately trying to move him so he could get up and get them outside, and then something heavy falling on top of him as his eyes finally went completely shut.

At that moment, Kuroko felt time going completely frozen. He could hear things, but he couldn’t comprehend what made those sounds. He heard the crashing of things falling onto the ground, as they were completely destroyed and consumed by the fire; until the sounds morphed into something else, into some kind of sirens he couldn’t quite figure out if they were from police cars, ambulances or fire trucks. With that his mind started spiraling, and pressed his eyes shut even harder in a try to remember what was happening before he lost consciousness.

And then he felt the warmth.

The scent of burnt-down wood flooded his senses, making their way to his lungs, which sent the signals to his brain, and everything started to wake up. Consciousness lit up inside his head as time passed, feeling the burning heat envelope his body, from head to toe. He regained consciousness, and with that his memories, but he wasn’t shocked or scared. No, it was quite the other way around.

He felt like he was in heaven, with this heat hugging his figure with such care, as if it was trying to keep him safe.

All he could do was open his eyes.

“Are you okay?!”

Everything felt really confusing, as he was in a situation he never would’ve thought he would’ve found himself involved in. If he thought about it for a minute, nothing his body was feeling in that moment was slightly near to what he should be feeling regarding the situation. The warmth sensation of peace and safety filled his body in its entirety, letting himself get carried away by the heat that found home inside his body, and his gaze got lost inside those red eyes that left a trace of fire onto Tetsuya’s eyes.

It was extremely conflicting, because he felt he could lose consciousness as many times as he liked, let himself get carried away to any place in the world, and he could rest assured he would be safe and sound as long as he was near this warmth.

The glimpse of a smile was drawn onto his lips before he nodded to the man carrying him, and fell unconscious once again.

The smell of everything getting burnt down as well as the sounds slowly started to fade away behind him until the only thing that was left was silence, which enveloped Kuroko one more time. As if it had forgotten about him, and needed to go back to keep on tormenting him.

But this time the sensation was completely different. Because the silence was warm, and treated him ever so kindly he couldn’t help but let himself fall into the void of his own unconsciousness. Right before he fell completely asleep, black turned into red. The brightest red he had ever seen.

“Ah… So it was that…,” he thought to himself.

And everything went dark.

#kagakuro #kuroko tetsuya #kagami taiga #this one's very conflicting tbh #but it does have some kind of slice of life #anygays please let me know what you think #kuroko no basket #knb #kuroko's basketball

16 notes · View notes