#skip? yes or perhaps be carried

[bibannana]

Maul *battling with Ahsoka*: Give up now and I will let you walk away from this!

Ahsoka *raised on sarcasm and sass*: Well that will be mighty inconvenient seeing as I was brought here on a gunship.

#how do you expect me to walk back to the Tribunal? #its in space? #i can even get off planet without a gunship #walk away? oh no I would much prefer to skip #skip? yes or perhaps be carried #i blame anakin for this #and obi-wan #and maybe a small part to the domino twins #ahsoka tano #darth maul #ahsoka #maul #star wars #incorrect star wars quotes #the clone wars #tcw #clone wars #incorrect clone wars quotes

[chosopie]

SHE’S EVIL - CHOSO KAMO

cw: mentions of gore, smut, bdsm, sub choso

Choso was absolutely obsessed with you. Every single night, he would watch true crime to stay updated with your latest murders. No one knows what you looked like, but the thought and idea of you turned him so much. A dangerous woman with enough power and skill to shake the whole country and bring it to shambles—all that got his dick leaking.

One night, as he watched the latest news about you, his eyes widened in shock and excitement after reading the headline. You had skinned someone alive, ripping their back and ribs off to make wings out of them, turning them into a fucked-up angel, then you hung them on the brick walls of an alley that was just down the corner of the street. You were so close to him. It made his heart skip a beat.

He admired you a lot, not because you were just some cold-hearted killer, but because you had motive. In a cruel world full of injustices and corruption, a lot of bad men get to walk away free from their crimes while their victims had to live the rest of their lives carrying the burdens and trauma of their past. In some way, you were a vigilante, not like Batman. You were more gruesome and violent, leaving your victims in a state that no one skilled enough could replicate. You were an artist in some wag. There was this one instance where you decapitated a man, and gutted him from the inside out, tying his organs around his body like necklaces and bracelets. You made murder look so beautiful.

Choso found it so hot.

That gave him a clue. He decided to venture to the nearby local hospital. He asked around for their most prestigious surgeon. “I need to meet the best,” he demanded. The lady by the desk called you—a classy woman who was finely dressed in a perfectly tailored blazer with a white dress shirt peeking underneath. The tight pencil skirt you wore showed off your curves. Your shoes were from a famous Parisian brand that was surely expensive and chic. You were the epitome of class and elegance.

“You can meet me by my office if you have any concerns. I’d be more than happy to help,” you flashed a smile at him, your teeth were perfect and well-kept. There was something eerie about your smile. It was too perfect that it didn’t seem genuine at all.

Choso wasted no time and dragged himself to your office. After a few minutes of waiting, it was finally his turn to “consult” you. Something in his gut made him so sure that you were the notorious killer.

“Good afternoon, mister…?” You quickly stole a glance at him, then looked back down on your notebook, your hand quickly writing notes about the previous patient.

“Choso,” he replied.

“What seems to be the problem, Choso?”

“Are you the one responsible for all those… art pieces?” Choso gulped, his face turning pale from the anxiousness the crept within his chest.

“Art pieces? I’m a surgeon, dear,” you responded without taking your eyes off your notebook, busily jotting down additional information about your patient who suffered from a severe form of hernia. You remained calm despite knowing exactly what he was referring to. The man seemed to have no ill intention towards you. Perhaps you’ve gained quite an audience and some fans.

“The angel,” Choso spoke again, hoping it would clarify things. It felt like a futile attempt. Of course, if you truly were the killer, then you wouldn’t just reveal yourself to someone like him.

“What about it? Did you like what you saw?” You finally stopped writing and stood up. Choso couldn’t help but look at your dress shirt which was unbuttoned on the top, giving him a glimpse of your push-up bra.

Choso instantly turned red, sweat forming on his temples. “Yes. Well, I think you’re very skilled. You’re the best out there,” he stuttered.

“Of course I am,” you grinned.

Now that you’ve revealed his identity to him, Choso found himself in the best possible situation he could have gotten into, right between your big thighs, his tongue swiping and sucking on your clit until you cum and squirt on his pretty face.

Choso begged you to let him fuck you, but you told him to be patient. He was on his knees, arms tightly wrapped around your leg while he desperately humps you, smearing his pre-cum all over your leg.

He amused you, and because of this, you decided to keep him around as your little toy. You can't keep relying on killing assholes to keep you excited. You needed a little fun when it comes to sex and bitches too.

Choso would frequent your office or you'd bring him to your car so he could relieve you. If he was good enough, you'd return the pleasure by riding his dick until his eyes are rolled back and his tongue was sticking out. Sometimes, he'd even ask you to hold him at gunpoint or to press a knife against him. He was your cute and freaky sex doll. Your pride and ego forbid you from admitting this, but you’ve grown a soft spot for him.

#rev.writes #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #choso kamo x y/n #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x female reader #choso kamo smut #jjk smut #choso smut #jjk choso

[lowkeyren]

fateful encounter!

in which — you decide to stay after the ball has ended, spending the night with the man that you just met… or sunday falls deeper in love with you. 

pairing — sunday x gn!reader

༊*·˚✧.* — wc: ~1k, unestablished relationship, actually you're both just downbad for each other lmao, it's finally here ugjghdhs sorry for the delay loves, pls enjoy!! reblogs are appreciated <3

prequel / iridescent engravings (both can be read as a standalone) 

as the last strains of music fades, the ball draws to a close and the guests begin to depart. you stood waiting in the ballroom, your heart yearning to meet sunday again, and perhaps get to know him better. 

with each passing moment, you scanned the room, searching for any sign of him amidst the shrinking crowd. your pulse quickening with anticipation as you catch a glimpse of his familiar figure. but just as quickly as you blinked, he was nowhere to be found. you wonder if you've mistaken him for someone else… well that's not really possible either because you definitely saw a pair of fluffy wings just now.

just as you were about to turn away in disappointment, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. your heart skipping a beat as you found yourself face to face with sunday once again. he's just as divine as you last saw him. 

you're absolutely ethereal, looking at him with those eyes of yours, oh aeons you really know how to leave him breathless.

"my sincerest apologies for keeping you waiting… would you like to join me for a stroll?"

with a soft smile, sunday extends his hand with a slight bow. without hesitation, you place your hand in his, the coolness of his touch sending a shiver down your spine as you follow him into the night. as you walk side by side, hands intertwined, you can’t help but feel flushed by the whole situation. you're grateful for the darkness that conceals your flushed cheeks, silently thankful that sunday is not looking at you right now—or so you believe. 

he can feel your palm sweating through his gloves. cute. you’re trying so hard to focus on the path in front of you, but of course he notices the way your eyes dart to him when you think he’s not looking. yet he himself is not fully unaffected by you, a familiar warmth starts to bubble within him, a telltale sign of his embarrassment. with a subtle shift of his wings, he discreetly covers the redness that is slowly rising up his neck.

after a while, you come to a stop at the balcony. the chill night air caresses your skin, blowing against your face with a cool that makes you shiver. sunday notices your discomfort, he immediately slips off his coat and drapes it around your shoulders, enveloping you in its warmth. the coat carries the faint scent of his cologne, a comforting touch that banishes the chill from your bones.

you smile and thank him, wrapping yourself deeper in his coat. he gently pulls you close; you lean into his side, laying your head on his shoulder, his arms around you, soft and secure. 

if someone were to see you together right now— wrapped in his coat, nestled against his side with his arm around your waist, they would definitely be struck by the closeness between you, it's just so intimate. you feel giddy just thinking about it, you wonder if he feels the same too… would he be flustered by the thought or tease you with a playful remark.

he can sense you smiling against his shoulder. how adorable. 

just then, dazzling displays of fireworks decorate the scene, painting the sky with streaks of purple, blue, and gold. illuminating the darkness, shimmering sparks cascading down as you stare in awe. 

"look! isn't it just so beautiful…" your eyes light up as you marvel at the spectacle before you. 

he looks at you from the corner of his eyes. how your hair flows like a river in the cool night breeze, framing your face perfectly. how you gawk at the sky, an innocent smile plastered on your face, blissfully unaware of the loud thumps of his heart. 

"—yes, truly beautiful."

his hands reach to find yours and intertwine your fingers together. as his thumb brushes over the ring on your index finger, you subconsciously tighten your hand around his as a response. 

he leans down, his breath tickling your ears, "perhaps the next ring will go on a different finger," he murmurs softly, his voice laced with mischief. you could feel your face burning up as you look at him with surprise evident on your face. his words hang in the air, lingering between you like a tantalising aroma. 

oh he's sure your heart is racing just as fast as his now… 

and he's right. your heart is racing with the implications behind his words, his sweet-honey voice reverberating in your head, and how absolutely charming this man can be. 

you look back towards the sky, trying to distract yourself, but it's impossible when you're wrapped up in his coat, in his arms. you can't escape even if you tried —but not like you would want to. as if he heard your thoughts, he tightens his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, until you're sticking by his side. 

as you bathe in the glow of the fireworks, a comfortable silence fills the air. you smile against his shoulder, admiring the beauty of the night. 

—you, you're the beauty of tonight. 

tonight, he wishes to be with you.

tonight, he wishes for nothing more than to hold you close, to savour every moment spent in your presence.

tonight, only you exist in his eyes. 

and for every night to come, he wishes that you'll be by his side, he wishes to lose himself in the depth of your eyes, but for now he will bask in the rhythm of your hearts beating together in harmony.

༊*·˚✧.*

masterlist

#✧renwrites! #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai starrail x reader #star rail x reader #hsr x you #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr fanfic #hsr fluff #honkai star rail x you #hsr imagines #sunday hsr #sunday x you #sunday fanfic #sunday honkai star rail

[newobsessionweekly]

Long sleeves

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist Tim Bradford x rookie!reader Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: Tim is replacing your TO for the day, and he doesn't hesitate giving you a hard time. And, in the end it's worth it.

Fluff Warnings: none, I guess. Not proofread yet Requested: yes - here Words: 2.4k GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

Six months now as a rookie and you know is not what you've expected. The blood, the lose and the deafening sound of the gunshots, no one can prepare you for that and you can't get them off your mind.

You're seated in the first row amongst the other rookies, tapping your foot nervously against the floor, waiting for the briefing to start and face another shift. You've come a long way since joining the force, each day pushing harder to prove your worth and dedication to the job. Suddenly, the murmurs and laughter fade into the air as Tim Bradford, the rookie sergeant wearing a commanding posture, and Sergeant Grey takes their spots at the front of the room.

The briefing starts, but your mind wanders as the Sergeant Bradford, under the guidance of Grey, discuss the day's agenda. You catch snatches of their conversation—the usual updates on recent incidents, reminders about protocol—but your attention keeps drifting back to Tim.

Tim's rugged features catch your eye immediately, igniting a warmth in your chest that you quickly try to suppress. You've always admired him from afar, but lately, there's been something more—an undeniable attraction that you can't seem to shake.

Then, to your surprise, Tim looks up and catches your eye. There's a flicker of something in his gaze—recognition, perhaps, or maybe just curiosity—as he nods in your direction.

"Officer Y/L/N" Tim's voice cuts through the silence, his tone firm and commanding. "Nolan's out today, dealing with some personal stuff," he continues, his tone businesslike yet tinged with a hint of something else. "Which means," he pauses, locking eyes with you, "you'll be riding with me."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Tim as your temporary TO. You've heard the rumors about his legendary Tim Tests and his grumpy attitude, and the thought of riding with him sends a wave of nervousness coursing through you.

Glancing over at Tim, you can't help but notice the toughness of his aspect, the way his uniform fits perfectly against his body. Despite his severe exterior, there's an undeniable magnetism about him that draws you in, stirring up a flurry of conflicting emotions within you.

Tim can't deny the surge of expectation that courses through him as he watches you. There's something about the way you carry yourself, a determination in your eyes that sets you apart from the other rookies. And if he's being honest with himself, he can't help but notice how damn attractive you are.

But beneath the surface, there's something else brewing—a tension that Tim can't quite put his finger on. He's caught himself stealing glances at you more than once, admiring the way you handle yourself under pressure. And lately, he's found himself wondering what it would be like to see you in a different light.

As Tim finishes the briefing, he offers a nod to the room, "Be safe out there." Then, he makes his way over to you with long, decisive steps, his gaze lingering on your uniform.

"What are you wearing, Boot?" Tim's voice is low, his eyes flicking over your body.

You straighten up, a proud smile tugging at your lips. "Short sleeves. Got the highest score on my exam," you reply confidently, hoping to impress him.

But instead of returning your smile, Tim's expression remains serious and professional. "Go change. You can wear short sleeves when you prove me you're worthy of them," he instructs, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your heart sinks at his words, the excitement of earning your short sleeves fading as quickly as it had come. Swallowing your disappointment, you nod silently and hurry off to change into the long sleeves uniform.

As you slip into the familiar fabric, Lucy approaches you in the locker room, a sympathetic look in her eyes. "Don't forget the tie," she reminds you gently, her voice filled with understanding.

You offer her a grateful smile, though you can't help but feel a twinge of frustration at having to cover up your hard-earned accomplishment. "Thanks, Lucy," you murmur, grateful for her support.

As you adjust your tie, Lucy leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Listen, Y/N," she begins, her tone carrying the weight of experience. "I've been in your shoes before. Tim can be a hardass, but he's also one of the best. He'll push you because he believes in you, but don't let his grumpiness get under your skin."

You nod, hanging onto every word Lucy says. "Got it." you reply, determined to heed her advice.

"And one more thing," Lucy adds, her voice softening slightly. "Don't take it personally if he's tough on you. It's just his way of pushing you to be your best."

With a reassuring pat on the shoulder, Lucy leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You'll survive him for a day," she assures you, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

You can't help but chuckle at her words, knowing all too well the reputation Tim has earned as a tough and demanding Training Officer. But deep down, you can't shake the feeling that today will be different—that maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to prove yourself to Tim in ways he never expected.

The shop is slicing through LA's mid-day traffic and the tension between you and Tim is palpable. He read some impressive reviews about you from Nolan, but knowing well the TO, Tim is afraid John is going too soft on you. His eyes flicker over to you, his expression unreadable as he silently enjoys the day on patrol. Since he became a Sergeant, Tim misses the action from the streets more than anything.

Suddenly, the crackle of the radio breaks the silence, dispatching you to a domestic disturbance call. Tim's jaw tightens as he steers the car towards the address, his mind already in cop mode.

"Dispatch, this is 7-Adam-100, show us responding." Tim grunts, his voice clipped and authoritative. "Boot, what's the first thing you do when responding to a domestic disturbance?"

You don't miss a beat, drawing on your training as you recite the correct procedure straight from the rookie book. "First priority is ensuring the safety of everyone involved, sir," you respond confidently, your tone unwavering despite Tim's rough attitude.

Tim nods approvingly, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. When you arrive at the scene, tension is running high as you step out of the shop. Tim takes the lead, barking out orders with authority as you assess the situation and intervene to de-escalate the conflict, ensuring everyone's safety.

Back in the shop, Tim turns his attention back to you. "Alright, Boot. What's the procedure for conducting a field sobriety test?"

You take a moment to think before answering confidently, "First, observe the suspect's behavior and look for signs of impairment. Then, administer a series of tests, such as the walk-and-turn and one-leg stand."

Tim nods approvingly, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. "Not bad, Boot."

He can't tear his gaze away from you, your beauty captivating him in a way he can't quite explain. There's something about you that draws him in, igniting a fire deep within him that he struggles to control. Tim can't help but imagine what it would be like to have you in his bed, to explore every inch of your body and lose himself in your embrace.

As much as Tim tries to push aside his carnal desires, they only seem to grow stronger with each passing moment. He can feel the heat of your gaze on him, your unholy thoughts mirroring his own as the day slowly turns into night.

You are consumed by your own forbidden desires for Tim. You can't stop the flood of sinful images that race through your mind whenever he's near, igniting a fire within you that you struggles to contain. His rugged good looks and commanding presence awaken something primal within you, stirring a desire you can't ignore.

You two share a rare moment of quiet in the shop and you can't help but steal glances at Tim, your heart pounding with longing. You imagine what it would be like to feel his touch, to experience the raw passion that simmers beneath his tough exterior.

But despite the undeniable attraction that simmers between you, you know that giving in to temptation would only complicate things further. Tim may be your sergeant, but he's also your forbidden desire, a fantasy that can never be reality.

Just as you start to relax and head towards lunch, another call comes in—a suspect fleeing on foot. Without hesitation, you and Tim leap into action, chasing the suspect through alleyways and side streets until, finally, you manages to tackle them to the ground, bringing the suspect into custody.

Lunch break unfolded pretty quickly, the time spent apart from Tim was too short. You missed Nolan more than you want to admit, there's a bond that formed between you, his talkative personality matching yours. But with Tim, knowing he's a Sergeant and plus his grumpiness that never fails to resurface, you have your own restrictions.

Back in the shop, you didn't dare to start a conversation with him. You wished to talk about anything else but work and the rookie book, to ease your mind and relax, enjoy the job, but Tim is nothing like that.

"What's the standard protocol for approaching a suspect who may be armed?"

"Um, well..." you begin, your voice uncertain as you struggle to recall the answer from the rookie book. "I think... we're supposed to maintain a safe distance and try to de-escalate the situation verbally before resorting to force?"

Tim's expression remains impassive as he waits for you to finish, but when you hesitate, he interrupts, his voice sharp. "You think? Or are you sure?"

You swallow hard, your confidence faltering under Tim's intense gaze. "I'm sure," you replied, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

But Tim shakes his head, disappointment evident in his eyes. "You think too much," he says curtly. "The suspect is firing at you and the civilians. We're dead, and he's running away."

As you drive in silence after the tense exchange, you can't shake the feeling of disappointment and anxiety gnawing at you. You replay the scenario in your mind, berating yourself for not being able to answer Tim's question correctly.

Before you can voice your concerns, Tim's sharp voice cuts through the silence, snapping you back to reality. "Suspicious vehicle ahead. What do you do, Boot?" he asks, his tone expectant.

Heart pounding, you respond without hesitation. "I'll pull them over," you declare, taking action and flicking on the lights and siren.

The shop pulls up behind the vehicle, and as you both step out of the car, Tim nods towards you, silently indicating for you to take the lead. With a deep breath, you approach the driver's side, your hand resting on your holster, ready for anything.

But as you reach the window, your blood runs cold. The driver pulls a gun, aiming it directly at you. Frozen in fear, your mind goes blank, unable to process the gravity of the situation.

In an instant, Tim is by your side, his voice steady and commanding as he diffuses the tense standoff. With precision and skill, he disarms the suspect and secures the scene, all while keeping a watchful eye on you.

His expression is stern as you approach the shop, "You froze back there, Boot." he scolds, his disappointment evident in his voice. "In this line of work, split-second decisions can mean the difference between life and death. If you waste time thinking what you should do in this situation and don't act quickly, you're not ready for short sleeves."

You hang your head, chastened by Tim's words. You know he's right—you can't afford to freeze up when lives are on the line. But, when the tension between you and him reaches a fever pitch, the air is thick with frustration and unspoken desires. You can feel your heart racing as you meet Tim's intense gaze, a mixture of defiance and attraction swirling in your chest.

"I had everything under control," you insist, trying to stand your ground against Tim's scolding, but your voice betrays the hint of uncertainty that lingers beneath the surface.

Beneath your bravado, Tim senses the fear lurking just beneath the surface, and it ignites a fierce protectiveness within him. "If you hesitated one more second, you'd be dead right now, Officer Y/L/N" he snaps back, the urgency in his voice betraying the depth of his concern for your safety.

Tim wants to push you, to test your limits and see what you're truly capable of. But as he reaches for his weapon, a part of him hesitates, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind. His eyes lock onto yours with a challenge, and you can't help but feel a surge of adrenaline course through your veins.

"I'm an armed suspect. Show me what you've got. Take me into custody," he commands, the teasing edge to his voice doing little to mask the underlying tension between you.

But before you can second-guess yourself any further, you square your jaw and cross your arms in defiance. "Make me," you retort, voice laced with a mix of sass and annoyance at Tim's constant tests.

A smirk tugs at the corners of Tim's lips as he steps closer, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. Despite the danger, despite the risks, he can't deny the thrill of the challenge, the electric spark of attraction that crackles between you.

"I'll show you tonight how to properly use the handcuffs. What do you say?" he teases, the words slipping from his lips before he can stop them, fueled by a potent mix of desire and adrenaline.

Your breath catches in her throat, your cheeks flushing with heat as you meet Tim's gaze head-on. "After dinner. And that's on you," you replied, your tone leaving no room for argument as you holds his gaze with unwavering determination.

"Deal," Tim concedes, a playful glint in his eye as he leans in closer, the promise of what's to come hanging between you like a tangible force.

#tim bradford imagines #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #the rookie imagine #tim bradford x reader #the rookie one shot #the rookie x reader #tim bradford #tim bradford x you #the rookie #tim one shot #tim x reader #tim imagine #tim the rookie #tim the rookie fluff #tim the rookie imagine #tim bradford x rookie reader #rookie reader #rookie!reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x rookie

[yongility]

NEO TV # I LIKE ME BETTER WHEN I'M WITH YOU. (jaehyun x reader) 2/?

genre: angst, suggestive, gang au, rich kid au, enemies to lovers (kinda), a lil of fluffy stuff. slowburn, series.

warnings: drug use mentions, gangs, fights, use of weapons, adult language, illegal activities, cheating (not on the main couple), toxic family environment, addictions, manipulation, insecurities, illegal street racing, death mentions. jeno is jaehyun's younger brother, angst, smut and if I slip something my bad haha.

word count: +10k? (I really went all for this chapter)

a/n: I'm a sucker for cliche stuff so as soon as this fic popped in my mind I had to write it down, english isn't my first language tho.

I’m sorry if this is too long TT, but this is kinda a slowburn? it might contain a lot of parts so wait for part 3! One of the reasons this is long af it’s because I would like to show you how Jaehyun and (Y/N)'s life is before they get together! So pls pls don’t skip anything I hope you like it!

if you want to be in the taglist, just lemme know;) enjoy!

Jung Jaehyun was an idiot.

But he was a clever idiot, and anyone who knew him would know that.

That's why within Neo Zone, his boss had the trust he had in him. Jaehyun was his best guy, or at least that's what he proclaimed enthusiastically every time the boy handed him a new payment for the merchandise he had to sell in his area.

None of his guys were as good negotiators as Jung Jaehyun.

He didn't know if it was because of the particular and convincing way he spoke or if it was because of the bad boy appearance he had, which made people pay him everything they owed him with just a bad look from him. Jaehyun didn't consider himself good at many things, but he was definitely good with numbers, maybe because since the initiation of his gang almost eight years ago, his only job was to maintain the sale - and sometimes purchase - of merchandise. So the numbers always, always had to be exact unless he wanted his boss to get angry and face consequences.

Because despite being a good worker, Jaehyun had faced consequences on multiple occasions.

His scars around his body were not a deco. They didn't have the purpose of scaring away anyone who stood in front of him. They had a slightly different origin than most people thought. Yes, some were the result of a street fight that possibly took place in one of the underground races. Perhaps from a fight against another dealer who tried to sell in his area, but many of them were caused during his early years in the business, where being a kid with little knowledge of how to handle the merchandise he carried with him, things would go wrong and he had to be punished by his own boss and the elders of the gang.

As he often heard during those years, he learned the easy way or the hard way.

Jaehyun's initiation into the gang was different from what other teenagers in Neo Zone had experienced.

In his own defense, he never believed that his initiation had been extreme compared to the experiences he had heard about, however, Jaehyun had to join the gang at the age of eleven.

Normally initiations took place between fourteen and fifteen years old, but there was an exception with the boy. Families in Neo Zone had to have at least one active member in the gang - commonly the man was that member - and it didn't matter if it was the grandfather, father, or son. There always had to be one if they wanted to continue with the safety of their family.

Because being active ensured you the protection that Lee Sooman could offer your family.

So when Jaehyun's father was brutally killed in what they called a clash in a raid. The next member of the Jung family had to take his place, and being Jaehyun the oldest brother and becoming the man of the house, he had to answer for the protection of his family, at his young age of eleven. The boy's duties initially did not involve business as such, since he was still inexperienced in the matter, but Lee Sooman took him under his wing and managed to get Jaehyun to accompany him wherever he was to start acquiring the knowledge he expected to have thanks to the experiences he had with his new boss.

But there was a time when Jaehyun had other aspirations.

There was a time when Jaehyun appreciated getting up to go to school to learn, not to keep his business running. There was a time when the boy could approach his mother while she cooked, sing together, and dance with his little brother happily.

There was a time when Jaehyun loved to sing, and all those little things that brightened his life even a little were damaged by the businesses he was starting to manage.

Because by now, Jaehyun wouldn't just be a dealer.

Lee Sooman expected a lot from him.

And he hated that he did.

If only he could escape from that zone, he would do it as soon as the first opportunity arose, but things weren't as easy as he thought.

And he knew that more than anyone else.

In the end, the only reason for his mere existence currently and the only reason he endured all he had to endure was for his family, which meant everything to him. It was all he had, it was all that drove him to continue, and it was all that gave him the strength to get up every day.

And because he was the man of the house, right?

And he had to take care and protect his family even if he didn't do it with his own life.

But maintaining that title wasn't easy, especially having a rebellious teenager as a brother and having to take care of all the bills that ran through his house.

If only his brother could make things easier for him. If only his brother would listen to him once in his life... because if there was one person who didn't listen to Jaehyun, if there was one person he found difficult to intimidate, it wouldn't be anyone other than Jeno.

And amidst all his complications, there would be no greater one than trying to make a teenager listen to him.

The streets of Neo Zone are not safe at any time of the day, but of course, they would be even more dangerous when the sun set. Jaehyun, as much as he wanted, would never understand why fate gave them that life, if only... if only they had been more fortunate and even just grown up in Kosmo*, his life would be so different.

Jaehyun hated walking the streets of Neo Zone, especially if it wasn't for business, but there he was, walking through the dark alleys that were barely illuminated by the reflection of the moon that had recently filled. His steps were short but firm, as his personality used to be. His leather jacket covered him well from the cold breeze he could feel in his bones, and the rings on his fingers helped him stay focused as he ran his thumb over them. In the distance, within an alley, he could see a pair of cigarette tails being lit as smoke emanated from the mouth of the person consuming it. Jaehyun took a deep breath as he disapproved and approached the group of boys more and more.

Immediately he could recognize him, that blue hair couldn't go unnoticed even if he wanted, what a bad choice his brother had made.

Once he found himself at the entrance of the alley, he grabbed a stick from what once seemed to be a baseball bat and, taking advantage of the distraction of those boys, he made it hit against the garbage container next to him, causing the boys to jump in fright and change their gaze towards him.

Meanwhile Jeno maintained eye contact.

"Let's go," Jaehyun snapped without hesitation.

Jeno's friends and his own brother ignored him and continued with their business, Jeno taking a drag of his joint and exhaling the smoke from his lungs with a cynical side smile. His friends let out a laugh that made Jaehyun's blood boil, and he hit the garbage container again - "I said let's go, Jeno."

His brother huffed as he rolled his eyes: "Go bother someone else, Jaehyun."

The boy clenched his jaw and, dropping the stick from his hands forcefully, he then approached the group of boys and seeing the determination with which Jaehyun walked, the boys stepped back a few centimeters, Jeno stood up and held his gaze firmly on his brother's.

When Jaehyun reached him, he snatched the joint from his lips and threw it to the ground to then step on it. He raised his gaze again and looked at the boys, who were behind his brother with a bit of panic in their eyes.

"What are you looking at? Get out of here if you don't want me to wipe that scared puppy look off your faces and give you real reasons to be scared," he snapped brusquely. The boys simply shrank in their place, not moving an inch - "Haven't you heard me? Get lost!"

This time, the group of young vandals hurriedly left the alley, leaving both boys facing each other, staring directly into each other's eyes and without saying a single word. Only annoyance could be felt emanating from each of their bodies.

"What the hell are you doing, Jaehyun? Can't you go bother somewhere else?" asked Jeno, exasperated.

"You didn't go to the school," his older brother replied with no expression on his face.

Jeno let out an incredulous laugh and shook his head amusedly - "Is that why you're here? To make a scene because I didn't go to the school?"

"I put all my damn effort so you can attend that school, and the least you can do is not skip," he said while pointing a finger at his chest and pushing him forcefully - "And what do you do all damn day, huh? This?" - he pointed at the joint that was now shattered under his foot - "Hanging out with those boys and wasting your life like this?"

"You're no better," Jeno retorted.

Jeno had had his initiation into the gang not long ago. Two years ago, when he turned fourteen, and since then, Jaehyun had managed and had done everything possible to keep his boss from involving him in any business, and to be able to maintain that, his workload had increased, since now he had to do what Jeno would have to do, because definitely being a dealer with no future was not something Jaehyun wanted for his brother. He knew Jeno was smart. He knew Jeno had the potential to be someone in life.

To have a future away from Neo Zone.

Not like him.

And the last thing he wanted was to see his brother being an addict in the alleys of Neo Zone.

"I just care about you," Jaehyun said quietly.

Jeno looked at him with his eyes reddened by the substance he had just ingested and clenched his jaw after hearing that.

"You care about me? You do the same fucking thing every day. And let me tell you that you're not just an addict, you're a damn dealer. Congratulations, you bring money to the table! But at what cost? You talk about caring? You ruin other people's lives," Jeno spat as he lightly pushed him.

Jaehyun wished he could say that those words didn't hurt him, but it was impossible. After all, they came from the mouth of his little brother, who was one of the lights of his life.

"Jeno, we're not going to argue about this," Jaehyun said as he felt his rings and ran his thumb over them "but this is not what I want for you, you have more future than those boys you hang out with, Jeno. You have more future than me. It's just that you don't want to see it... this... this is not what I want for you. I don't want you to spend the rest of your life on these damn streets looking for pleasure in some damn drugs and I don't want to see you overdose. For now, it's weed, but if you don't know how to control yourself and don't know how to handle it, it won't be just that. You're not a child, Jeno, and you should know that your actions have consequences."

"Why do you talk as if you were a saint, Jaehyun!?"

"Because I damn know what I'm talking about !" the older one exclaimed, about to explode and giving him a stern look - "Jeno, you need to understand that this is not what I want for you."

"If this is not what you want for me, why don't you do something better than getting into my damn life? Why don't you start with yourself, huh? How do you expect this not to be part of me if you have mom and me in this shitty place?"

"I'm trying, Jeno... I..."

"Trying? How? By selling more kilos every day? That doesn't help at all, Jaehyun! Why don't you do something else? Why didn't you get us out of here when you could?" he questioned as he approached him again until they were face to face. Both with a firm gaze, without hesitating and without flinching.

"Oh, I know," Jeno muttered - "you don't do shit because you're afraid of ending up like poor Sicheng, right?" - he blurted out.

And that was the last straw.

By inertia and upon hearing that name, Jaehyun's arm lifted and went to punch his younger brother's cheek, causing the area to immediately turn red and Jeno's face to move to the side. The blue-haired boy brought his hand to his cheek and slowly returned his gaze to his brother, finding a bit of regret in his eyes.

"Don't ever mention Winwin like that again," Jaehyun requested without moving.

"Fuck you."

Jeno lightly pushed Jaehyun and walked briskly out of the alley they were in.

And then Jaehyun found himself alone with regret running through his body.

If only things were simpler.

_____________________________________________

"Did you go to Neo Zone!?" Jungwoo's exclamation made (Y/N) jump in her place and quickly approach him to cover his mouth with her own hands while giving him a stern look.

"Shut up, Woo, my mother can hear you!" she retorted almost in a whisper but agitatedly. Then she removed her hand from the boy's mouth and sat down next to him on the bed.

"Are you crazy? What were you doing there on a Friday night?" he asked, accusing her. They remained silent for a few seconds, then Jungwoo jumped on the bed and looked at her in surprise.

"Who are you fucking and why didn't you tell me anything!?”

(Y/N) widened her eyes and quickly shook her head.

"None of that! God, Jungwoo, you're an idiot," she lightly tapped his head with the palm of her hand.

"I'm not seeing anyone."

The boy rubbed his head with a small pout and then looked at her curiously.

"So?"

"It was for Daeho," the girl declared.

Jungwoo rolled his eyes dramatically and stood up from the bed to stand right in front of her, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Now, what trouble did that idiot get himself into?"

With a heavy sigh, the girl looked at her hands and slightly shrunk in her place. "A big one, Jungwoo. You should have seen how he came home on Friday."

"What happened?"

"Well, what do you think happened? The idiot bought drugs and didn't pay on time. And to make matters worse, he decided to buy them from Jaehyun and made him go to Neo Zone. Apparently, his boss got angry about the debt, and believe me, he was very angry."

"And what have they done to Daeho?" he questioned her again, this time with concern in his voice.

"They beat him up, Jungwoo. He's covered in bruises and they've split his lip and eyebrow," she explained frustratedly.

"Was it Jaehyun?"

"Huh?"

"Did Jaehyun beat him up?"

"No. No, Jaehyun was with me when that happened," she commented while sighing. "But I don't know what to do, Jungwoo. I'm really worried about Daeho. I'm afraid something like that might happen again and it'll end up worse."

Jungwoo looked at her in silence for a few seconds and then sat back down beside her, taking her hands in his and giving her a slight squeeze as a show of support.

"(Y/N), I know it's not my business and you're worried about your cousin, but Daeho is not a child anymore. You can't go through life trying to fix his mistakes. He knows what he's doing, and he should know the consequences behind it," he explained gently. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat, trying to dispel the knot that threatened to form.

"I know, Jungwoo, it's just that..." she paused to take a breath, "I'm all Daeho has. I'm the only person who genuinely cares about him. The least I can do is be there for him," she bit her lip.

"And there's nothing wrong with that, really. But you can't always be by his side, hoping he won't get into trouble. Daeho needs help, yes, but he needs it from a professional before his drug problem becomes a serious one," Jungwoo affirmed, letting go of her hands and putting his arm around her shoulders to give her a slight hug.

"Do you think I haven't mentioned that to him? He doesn't want to listen."

"There's not much you can do on your own, (Y/N)."

It was then that the girl preferred not to say anything and just accept the hug her friend was giving her; because she knew that as soon as she mentioned that she had made a deal with Jung Jaehyun so that he wouldn't sell anything to his cousin again, Jungwoo would surely go crazy.

So now she not only had to hide this from Daeho but also from her best friend.

It couldn't be that difficult, right?

___________________________________________

If there was another place Jaehyun hated besides Neo Zone, it would be the principal's office. He wouldn't have enough fingers and toes to count the number of times he found himself in that same position, sitting in a leather chair, with Principal Kim in front of him giving him a disapproving look.

"I can't do much this time, Jaehyun" the principal spoke and removed his glasses from his face to pinch the bridge of his nose with his fingers, "if you don't improve your grades, I'll have to expel you. I don't have any other excuse not to do it."

"But you have to do something" Jaehyun retorted, raising one of his eyebrows and crossing his arms, causing the principal to clear his throat and rest his glasses on his desk.

"Jaehyun, I can't keep covering up everything you do and don't improve even a little. The teachers don't want you here anymore, and if you don't raise your average, there's nothing I can do.

The boy sighed heavily and bit his lower lip. Then, the image of a Hwang came to his mind, and he smiled slightly.

"Don't worry, Principal Kim. For the next evaluations, you'll see my average clean," he explained with a smile.

"I'd like to know how will you do that?" the principal asked, incredulous.

"Studying, Principal Kim. How else would I do it?"

The principal chuckled and shook his head.

"You're warned, Jung. Now, leave my office and go study."

Without saying anything else, the boy got up from his seat and calmly left the principal's office, crossing the hallway until he reached the courtyard of his high school. He looked around, getting a couple of glances from some of his classmates, who surely weren't used to seeing him leave that office once again and as soon as his eyes located a person,

Jaehyun smiled.

He put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and walked towards the silhouette sitting under a tree, with at least five books around her and taking notes from each of them, and in which she must have been very concentrated not to feel the presence of the boy a few steps away from her. Hwang let out a heavy sigh and then cursed under her breath, dropping one of her books to the ground abruptly.

"Having a hard time, angel?" he teased while leaning against the tree behind her.

The girl quickly lifted her gaze to then look at him with annoyance and closed one of her books abruptly.

"Don't bother me Jaehyun. I have no interest in having a small talk with you right now," she said, rolling her eyes. "How do you expect me to finish all your assignments and mine before the week ends?" she asked, frustrated.

"Speaking of that, I expect a good grade on those assignments. The principal has already talked to me about kicking me out if I don't meet the average this evaluation," he said, shrugging.

"If only you bothered to study from time to time, you wouldn't have these problems," she retorted reading her notes.

"Why would I do that when I have you, sweet cheeks? Business are business, besides, I've been keeping my word" he said proudly. "How long has Daeho been clean?"

(Y/N) fell silent, thinking of a response, and answered, "almost two weeks, I believe so."

"Do you think it'll last much longer?' he asked again, and she shrugged.

"I hope so, he promised," she muttered without looking him in the eye. Jaehyun sighed and moved to sit next to her, an action that confused the girl, but she didn't comment, she simply let herself go.

A consumer's promises were the worst, and they both knew it. Despite the fact that Daeho didn't consider himself merely an addict... he was. In recent weeks, he was more often in a state of euphoria than sober, and the fact that his parents had been away for over a month was a perfect excuse to do so. Hwang feared for him and feared a lot. What Daeho saw as something harmless kept her in constant unease, because she knew that Daeho wouldn't stay clean for much longer, and there wouldn't be anything else she could do.

"At least you're the only dealer he trusts to buy from," she scoffed, shaking her head.

Jaehyun laughed softly. "You know that as soon as he feels the need, he won't only come to me. Abstinence tends to be difficult for a consumer."

"I know.'

"And what will you do? Offer more money?'

"I don't know, Jaehyun," she replied with a tired tone. "I don't know what to do with Daeho, I don't want him to end being a mess."

To the eyes of an outsider, that scenario could seem a bit funny; Hwang (Y/N) and Jung Jaehyun in the same place without wanting to pull each other's hair out, but if there was something that had caused that conversation in Neo Zone two weeks ago, it was that Jaehyun had managed to empathize at least a little with the girl. At the end of the day, all they both wanted was the best for their families.

They weren't so different in that sense, however, they didn't share anything else. They were simply acquaintances with a common purpose and nothing more.

"The evaluations are coming up, you know what that means?' he asked suddenly.

"What? do I have to do twice your assignments?" she replied with another question, and Jaehyun shook his head with a half-smile.

"Johnny's parties are also coming up, and it's something you should keep Daeho away from. You know his parties are not the healthiest and most innocent thing out there."

Johnny Suh was well known in high school for two reasons; first, because he was the son of one of the best real estate sellers in the city, making him one of the wealthiest kids in high school, and second, because of the study groups he organized near each midterms on one of his properties.

The study group that was nothing more than a facade for the big parties they really have. Every two months, students eagerly awaited that party because with Johnny Suh organizing them, how could not be the best? When it came to those parties, Johnny spared no expense, he would take one of his parents' properties, buy tons of alcohol, invite the dealers from Neo Zone, and didn't care if you were from the south or north, you were welcomed all the same because according to his own words: the more people attended, the better the fun.

And yes, it was something (Y/N) should be worried about, because Daeho could never miss one of those parties. Johnny Suh was within his circle of friends, so he wouldn't dare to let down one of his great friends, how could he?

"Cat got your tongue?" Jaehyun's voice caught her attention and she turned to look at him while exhaling deeply.

"No, Jaehyun, and I'm not in the mood for this."

"Oh, relax, angel" he spoke, raising his hands in defense "I was just mentioning Johnny's party, you know Daeho wouldn't miss it" Jaehyun continued trying to rile her up.

"Great timing for my uncles to return" she muttered, angrily gathering her things and putting them in her bag. She stood up abruptly and Jaehyun followed her.

"Hey, calm down, what's wrong?"

"Daeho's parents are coming back during midterms week and they'll surely having him running around here and there, enough reason for him to go to that damn party" she spat, starting to walk away from him with Jaehyun behind her "and as soon as Daeho stops being clean, I'll break our deal" she threatened, turning around to face him.

"You can't do it if I haven't done anything, you made the deal, you keep it" he said defensively. It wasn't the time for him to risk it and not deliver those high grades to Principal Kim.

"Yes, I can and I will, Jaehyun."

"We made a deal, you can't back down now. I'm already losing money because I'm not selling anything to Daeho".

"I can still write you a check down" (Y/N) said.

"I think I made myself clear when I told you that I didn't want your money".

Ding.

Before the boy could reproach and start an argument with (Y/N), his phone rang in his jacket and he took it out of his pocket to turn on the screen and read the text his friend had left him.

“Yukhei:

come to the garage, something happened.

10:30 am

Don't ask, just come.

10:30 am

I don't even know what happened

but they're furious.

10:31 am”

Jaehyun looked up at the sky, cursing under his breath and closing his eyes. He returned his gaze to the girl, who was now looking at him with confusion, and pointed at her with his index finger.

"I expect my assignments by the end of the week" he commented, turning around to walk away from the place and leaving a frustrated (Y/N) behind.

"Hey! Jung Jaehyun!" she called out loudly "You can't just leave me like this! Hey!”.

_____________________________________________

When he reached the garages, Jaehyun got out of his car, slamming the door shut, immediately drawing Lucas's attention. Lucas was sitting there smoking a joint, one leg propped against the wall and one hand in his pants pocket. Jaehyun approached his friend and took the cigarette from his lips, then took a drag himself.

"What the hell happened now?" he asked, exhaling smoke from his lungs and raising an eyebrow at Lucas. His friend sighed and straightened up.

"Jeno".

With the joint between his lips, Jaehyun's eyes widened, he tossed it to the ground, stomping on it, and quickly took a step forward, only to be stopped by his friend, who placed a hand on his chest. He looked at Lucas, not understanding and showing no expression, then listened to him speak.

"Before you go in there and cause a scene. I don't know what happened. Cheol Uk wouldn't tell me shit, he barely said something had happened with Jeno and they're waiting for you inside" the dark haired guy explained, lightly tapping his friend's chest.

Jaehyun's chest swelled after the deep drag he took. He closed his eyes for a moment and brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose, squeezing it slightly.

"Do you know if he's okay?" he asked, opening his eyes and met with a grimace on Lucas's face.

"Honestly, I don't know".

One of the garage doors opened, causing both boys to turn their heads towards it and seeing Cheol Uk coming out of it, nodding towards Jaehyun to enter, so the guy began walking towards there with Lucas behind him, who was immediately stopped by the guard who put his hand on the boy's chest: "I've been told that only Jaehyun can enter."

Jaehyun turned his head to give Lucas an affirmative look, who breathed deeply and stayed in his place. Jaehyun walked through the garage door, which closed seconds later, and headed towards where his boss was supposed to be.

His head was spinning, and only his brother's name ran through it. What the hell had he done this time?

He didn't even know if he was okay or where he could be, and that was eating him up anxiously.

Despite everything that could come out of Jeno's mouth and his rebellious behavior, as an older brother, Jaehyun worried a lot. Jeno was an important part of his life, and as soon as something happened to him, he wouldn't know what to do. He began playing with the ring on his hand as he continued his way, managing to hear a couple of shouts that he knew well, came from his boss; he clenched his jaw, he was right behind Lee Sooman's back, who, feeling a presence, turned halfway, face to face with the boy.

He approached dangerously. Jaehyun held his breath and suddenly, a burning sensation ran through his cheek, feeling his boss's palm hit him. Jaehyun didn't flinch, didn't complain, and simply did nothing.

He knew it was better that way..

He stayed in his place, straightened his posture, and continued to look ahead, but without making eye contact with Lee Sooman.

"Do you know what your brother's little joke has cost us?" the man asked with annoyance.

"No sir".

"A lot. Your brother is an idiot, he couldn't do something as simple as what I sent him to".

Jaehyun's body tensed, and this time, he made eye contact with his boss.

"What... do you mean you sent him to do something" unintentionally, the tone of his own voice rose, catching his boss's attention "I thought we had a deal, boss."

"Are you talking to me about deals, Jaehyun? Look, the kid came to me asking for a job, and I really admire your whole facade of wanting to feel like the responsible older brother who doesn't want anything to happen to his brother and blah, blah, blah" his boss spoke mockingly "but the boy isn't five years old, Jaehyun. It's time for him to be a grown-up, isn't it? Turn him into one, just like I did with you, right? Look at the man you are, boy".

He felt the falseness in his words, and the sound of his laughter irritated his ears, but again, he said nothing, he knew he shouldn't, and simply stayed in his place to continue listening to him.

"But Jeno and his idiot friends go and screw it up, and now it cost me money and a possible fight. Aish, they can't do anything right if you don't teach them" he muttered the latter.

The boy's brow furrowed and followed his boss's silhouette as he walked to his desk.

"A fight?"

"Yes, I sent them to leave some stuff at the train station, and they ran into Yellow Wood's guys, they stabbed one of the boys. Ah! Park will surely want to do the same" Lee Sooman sighed as he brought his hands to cover his face "and if that's not enough, the Yellow Wood guys stole the stuff, and believe me, they weren't just a few wones worth in drugs. There were a lot.

"Sir..."

"Don't try to cover for your brother, Jaehyun. He made a mistake, a big one, and now, who will pay for it? I'm sure Jeno won't."

"Excuse my brother, sir. I... will talk to him, for sure..."

"A talk won't solve my problem. I need my money, or what? Where do you expect me to get paid from? How do I pay my guys for their work? If there's no drugs, there's no money, and you know it, Jung."

"Sir, please let me do something. I... don't have the money right now. I'm paying for his medicine and..."

"Oh, Jaehyun, don't give me the same old story. Those damn medicines don't matter to me. I've helped you enough with that boy, and I know the whole story inside out and upside down."

Jaehyun's fist clenched at his sides, and he closed his

eyes for a moment, avoiding exploding right there.

"I'm sorry, sir. What do you want me to do?"

"You'll take double of the stuff on Friday when you pick it up. You'll have the weekend to sell it and deliver it to me by Monday, and let's see if you can teach that idiot brother of yours how to handle the business properly once and for all."

The boy's eyes widened, double of the stuff in one weekend? He had been struggling to make ends meet with his normal portion, and now he had to sell double in three damn days. If Jeno was okay right now, he surely wouldn't be after the scolding Jaehyun was going to give him.

"But sir, the business has been slow these days, and..."

"I don't care, Jaehyun. I don't give two shit about how you get that money, but I want all my stuff sold by next Monday, understood? If you don't deliver the money, there will be repercussions, and no, they won't be on you, Jaehyun. It's been Jeno with all this bullshit."

Without saying anything, he nodded. He supposed he would have to ask Johnny for a favor at his party; it was the only place he thought he could sell at least half of what he owed. As for the other half... he would figure out what to do with it later.

He watched as his boss pointed to the door with his hand, and Jaehyun obediently turned around to leave the place. The blood was rushing through his body, and he clenched his fists tighter and tighter as he moved.

His brother was such an idiot.

Not only had they lost the stuff, but they had also stabbed one of the Yellow Wood boys, and he knew they would come back looking to do the same. What guaranteed him that one of these days his brother wouldn't come back with a wound like that? He let out a sigh as he opened the garage door. He saw Lucas quickly approaching him, but he didn't pay the slightest attention to him because he was too busy storming towards his car with fury in his eyes.

His friend tried to stop him, but he couldn't, so he simply followed him. Both got into the car. Lucas heard the slam Jaehyun had given. He started the car without answering the questions the guy in the passenger seat was asking and drove off at speed towards his house. Lucas kept calling him, but it was in vain because Jaehyun could only think about how bad the conversation he had to have with his brother would go. The older boy's knuckles could be seen white from gripping the steering wheel, and he could hear him cursing every now and then. Lucas gave up and sighed as he leaned back in his seat; it was pointless to try to talk to Jaehyun when he was behaving like that, so he simply wouldn't bother anymore.

A few moments later, they were in front of the boy's house, where the older one quickly got out of the car, and Lucas continued his steps behind him.

"Jaehyun! What the fuck happened!?" Lucas shouted at his back, and again, he didn't receive an answer.

He aggressively entered the house, slightly alarming his mother, who was in the kitchen and, seeing the way her son had entered, left things and approached him.

"Where's Jeno?" he asked without preamble.

"What happened?" she asked, concerned.

"Where's Jeno?" he repeated, clenching his jaw.

"In his room" she didn't even finish speaking when Jaehyun was already walking towards the door, she turned worriedly to see the boy beside her and spoke: "Yukhei, what happened?"

Jaehyun opened the bedroom door with a bang and found Jeno sitting on his bed, with a bruise under his eye and his lip slightly open. The older brother exhaled deeply and approached his brother, who was already standing up and naturally, defensive.

"What the fuck do you think you did, Jeno? Huh?

"Stay out of my damn life, Jaehyun. I'm sick of it" Jeno spat as he walked towards him.

"Oh, are you sick of it?" Jaehyun asked "Wow, the little boy is tired of me only wanting what’s best for him" he said, feigning a pout "Do you know the stupid thing you and your friends did?" he questioned again as Jeno pushed him slightly with his shoulder and walked out of the room. Arriving in the living room, where Lucas was trying to distract their mother —"Not only did you lose the drugs, Jeno. You stabbed someone from Yellow Wood, do you think that's something funny to do?"

"What? Drugs?" Mrs. Jung asked confused.

"Shut up, Jaehyun" the younger one spoke through his teeth.

The boy looked at his mom and then at his friend, scoffed, and denied as he once again approached his brother: "Jeno went to Sooman to ask for a job" he confessed as his mother exclaimed in surprise "and now I have to answer for the stupid things your son did".

"Stop treating me like a damn kid!" Jeno exclaimed as he pushed him slightly, managing to anger the older one a little more.

"You want me to stop? Huh?"

"Jaehyun, Jeno. Enough" their mom intervened from her place, causing Jaehyun to turn to look at her and shake his head.

"No, Mom. Jeno doesn't want to be treated like a kid anymore? Fine. Does he want to ruin his life? Fine. If the boy is old enough to make decisions for himself and get into things he has no fucking idea about; let him. I don't give a shit anymore. I already have enough responsibility for this house as it is for him to come and add more".

Silence fell in the living room, with Jaehyun and Jeno staring directly at each other. With their mother leaning on Lucas, who was supporting her, and Jaehyun could only catch between his ears, the boys' accelerated breaths in front of them.

"You have no idea what you're getting into, Jeno. Do you think it's easy to go out there with that stuff and sell it like chocolates? What are you going to do when you don't meet the quota? Huh? Will you take responsibility and face the consequences? Ah, right. You're not a child anymore, and you don't need me. So if something happens... Don't you dare come running to me, because if you have the balls to get into this shit. You'll have the balls to solve your problems. Once you enter in this shitty hole, there's no way out" he ended slowly as Jeno widened his nostrils. He turned around and left the house with a bang, making his mother jump in her place, and with tears shining in her eyes, she moved away from Lucas to approach her older son.

"Jaehyun... "she murmured as her son enveloped her in his arms and hid his head in her chest "he's still my baby" she sobbed.

Jaehyun looked at his friend, who only gave him a sad smile and lightly patted his back, silently demonstrating the support he would always provide.

"I know, Mom. Jeno will be okay" he replied in a whisper as he stroked her hair and planted a kiss on the top of her head "I promise you that someday I'll get you out of here, even if I have to stay behind"

His mother raised her head to look into her son's eyes, and a tear rolled down her cheek: "Jaehyun, I can't take this anymore. You're my children, I don't want to see you both ruined, I can't" the boy choked up and once again caressed her hair.

"I'll get you out of here, someday I'll be able to do it, including him. I'll get all four of us out of here, I promise you".

His mom nodded with another tear running down her face and pressed her lips slightly. Jaehyun moved away from her and moved towards Lucas, to nod his head indicating that he should accompany him out of the house. Both boys walked in silence towards the door, where they were stopped after hearing the words that came out of Mrs. Jung's mouth.

"Don't end up like your father, Jaehyun."

The weight those words carried was something the boy couldn't believe.

Because that was something he wasn't sure he could promise.

______________________________________________

Once her uncles set foot in the city, it would be total chaos. It was something that (Y/N) knew, something she was aware of, which was why she simply hated the thought of it happening for two simple reasons: first, because then she would have to be even more attentive to her cousin and his possible impending collapse due to the pressure his parents put on him as soon as they arrived in the city.

And second, because their arrival meant a family dinner at her house; which had no other result than to talk once again about the future that awaited both of them and the vast comparisons their mothers loved to make between them, creating an endless discord: to see which family had more than the other, or to allude to who had a better present and future than the other.

At her ripe eighteen years, (T/N) never managed to understand the dynamics of her family. Were all families like hers? She didn't understand why her father and uncle had this constant competition between them; as brothers, it was the last thing they should have. Did money eventually turn you into such a person? Was it something that Daeho and she would become when they were responsible for the companies? She couldn't wrap her head around that scenario, the last thing she would want is for there to be some kind of conflict between them when they both needed each other, both had each other's backs, and both were the support for each other.

What a great family environment existed in that residence.

And if she could add a third reason: it was that she hated having to behave like the perfect daughter everyone expected her to be.

Coincidentally and to her own misfortune, the dinner at her parents' house was on the same night as Johnny Suh's party.

One more concern to her list.

With the faint reflections of the moon on her room and the gentle breeze coming through her large window, she gave one last careful look in her mirror, observing her figure wrapped in a black dress that ended just above her knee, a white and fluffy sweater that covered her from the coolness of the night, and her platform boots that complemented the style of the rest of her outfit.

She sighed... approached her dresser, picking up the first pair of earrings she saw to put them on her ears and let out another sigh. She never understood the formality of dinners at home, in the end, it was just her parents, her two uncles, Daeho, and herself who would end up sitting at the long dining table, but what she did know was that if she dared to come down with any outfit that didn't please her mother enough... she would instantly make her go back to change her clothes to something more suitable for her... or for them rather. Because according to her mother; you never know who the next person you might meet is.

Yes, even in her own home.

Where there wouldn't be more than six people.

She had tried multiple times to get in touch with Daeho since early in the morning, as soon as she had found out that her uncles' flight had arrived, however, he didn't answer her calls or text messages; which was enough to make (Y/N) nervously bite her nails. Something that had her tired, she was tired of living like this, worrying about everyone but herself, but if she didn't worry about her cousin the way she did, who would?

She was well aware that Daeho was not a child of five years to be in charge of, but sometimes she felt like he was. With the little attention he received from his parents and all the attachment and emotional dependence he had developed towards his cousin, (Y/N) had no choice but to fulfill that role, but... how much more would it consume of her?

She was grateful to have Kim Jungwoo in her life; the only sincere friend who had crossed her path. False friendships that could arise around her were no surprise to the girl: status was everything. If you wanted people to see you well, recognize you for something, and not sideline you, you had to hang out with people of your same level. (Y/N) tried to remember all those times she tried to create friendships, but ones that were sincere, each of those times ended in a failed attempt when she realized that people didn't really care about her but the great dollar sign that pursued her as if it were an ornament.

What a fake life.

That's why the affection she had for Jungwoo was immense. The only person who gave herself the opportunity to get to know her without judging her, the only person with whom she didn't have to maintain a whole facade.

She hated pretending; everyone thought she was perfect, that her life was perfect, the presentation she always carried was perfect, they even thought her family was perfect; she had spent the last few years of her life trying to keep up appearances, continuing with the facade that her parents and uncles had created and if Daeho screwed up, it all fell on her, because she was the one who had to fix it, because she was the one who had to assure everyone that everything was fine in her family... because if she let her guard down and showed her reality; the dream world that the Hwang family had invested so much in pretending would come crashing down like a freshly kicked sandcastle.

And so, seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours and when she least expected it, she found herself uncomfortably seated between her mother and Daeho, with a plate of food that, for the moment, didn't look appetizing at all and with her leg bouncing slightly from the anxiety emanating from feeling the tense atmosphere she was wrapped in.

Her mind was elsewhere. The last thing her ears had captured was the conversation her uncle had created about his recent trip to New York, where he had signed a couple of agreements and where... she couldn't remember anything else.

It reminded her a lot of her childhood, where they would both sit for hours beside their parents listening to them talk about business, money, agreements, and a thousand things that at her age they wouldn't understand but that according to their parents, getting involved from an early age in the world they lived in would help them shape their future.

In a way, she felt like her childhood had been stolen. Instead of being able to go out to the huge yard of her house to play like any normal child, she had to stay inside to attend one of her mother's arranged classes for her. Instead of listening to a story that her father had to tell her before going to sleep, she found herself with the stories he told her about "how he became the successful businessman he was and how she had to do the same" or the times when they always wanted to include her in the adult world when she was barely in elementary school.

But she never complained... at least she had a family and a roof over her head, she convinced herself of the luck she had of being born into the family she had... a total privilege.

When she lifted her eyes from the fixed point they had been pinned to, she could notice out of the corner of her eye how Daeho simply limited himself to eating in silence, nodding from time to time and feigning a smile here and there, moving his cutlery slightly and taking small bites of his food.

At least she wasn't the only anxious person at the table.

Her gaze lifted when her name came out of her mother's mouth, who was watching her expectantly with a smirk: “Isn't that right, sweetheart?” her mother inquired.

“Hmm, excuse me?” she questioned with a small voice as the adults' gazes were fixed on her.

“Oh, sweetheart, it's disrespectful not to pay attention to the matters discussed at the table” her mother gave her a fake smile that simply made the girl change her gaze to her hands resting on her lap and tilt her head in apology, causing her mother to let out a snort that was only heard by her “Your uncles and we have been talking about the fact that Daeho and you are about to graduate, we believe it's time to start looking at which universities you'll get into” her mother explained, staring at her intently “although, personally, your father and I have had this whole life plan we created for you since you were seven, remember we talked about studying abroad?

“Oh! We also want our Dae to study abroad! We had thought about Oxford! Isn't that right, honey?”Daeho's mother spoke with enthusiasm addressing her husband, who only smiled as he nodded.

(Y/N) and Daeho shared glances for a couple of seconds, precipitating what was to come, and smiled sadly at each other.

“Umh, mom? I don't think this is something we should discuss right now... there's still a little time before we graduate. I don't think it's a... necessary topic right now...”

The girl was interrupted by a gasp from her mother, who looked slightly offended and placed a hand on her chest, shaking her head from side to side.

“You say there's still time? (Y/N), you graduate in a year, do you think that's little time? We should start looking at universities, especially if we want to send you abroad.”

Taking a breath in surprise, she spoke: “Mom, abroad?” the girl let out a sigh “I don't think it's necessary, I mean... Seoul has incredible universities and curriculums, it's not necessary to go far from home...”

“Seoul?” her mother asked incredulously “Do you think I, your mother, will send you to some mediocre university in Seoul? You must be crazy if you think you'll end up at any of those universities” she continued with contempt “You, miss, will get into an Ivy League university, like your father and uncle did and there’s no other way.”

The table fell into a small silence, where only the looks of Mrs. Hwang and (Y/N) were shared intensely, when slightly the voice of Daeho's mother was heard:

“Well, we also have to see if she's capable of passing the exams first, don't we?” she said quietly before delicately wiping her lips with the cloth napkin on her lap.

The gaze of (Y/N)'s mother abruptly changed to the other woman, who only smiled sideways in a mocking tone and feeling her cousin's body tense beside her, the girl's anxiety shot up a thousand miles per hour anticipating what was to come.

“What did you just say?”

“I think you heard me right, sweetheart. We must see if my niece really has the ability to pass exams as important as those of the Ivy League, because believe me, dear” she changed her view to the girl “it's not just going, sitting down, and looking pretty as you've done all these years.

It felt like a punch… right into her face.

Was it really like that? Did her appearance speak more than the effort she had put into her work for so long?

Was that how they really perceived her?

She knew she had much more to offer... why were they reducing her to just that? She was dedicated, she was responsible... wasn't all her effort worth it?

Wasn't it enough?

“I think you're the least qualified person to talk about children, Eunji” (Y/N)'s mother attacked “Daeho is no delicate flower, the disaster he is when you don't pay attention to him...”

The eyes of the mentioned boy widened and immediately (Y/N) dropped her hands on her table and got up from her seat.

“Mom! Stop this” the girl exclaimed.

“Do you think I'm going to let this woman come to my house to talk about you and my family like that, when we welcomed her with open arms?” her mother reproached, standing in front of her.

“You don't have any right to talk about mine either” now Eunji joined the conversation.

“Oh, come on, Eunji, stop being so blind and realize the kind of son you have.”

Daeho didn't need to be there anymore, which was why he fleetingly got up from his seat and without saying more, left the house with more haste than his cousin had ever seen. (Y/N) dropped her cloth napkin on the table with noticeable annoyance to try to go after her cousin, it was when her mother took her by the arm, squeezing firmly.

“Don't you dare set foot outside this house.”

She didn't know if it was the anger running through her veins or the tiredness of always wanting to do what her mother thought was right; but she didn't need to think twice when without looking back she went out the large door of her house, taking the keys to her car on the way. Her throat felt weird, she didn't want to waste a single tear. She shouldn't. With her hands slightly trembling and biting her lip, she took her cell phone and pressed a couple of numbers on it, waiting for the other line to answer.

With heavy breaths and sitting in the driver's seat of her car, she listened to the rings her phone produced and when she finally heard a response, she spoke quickly:

“Jungwoo, I'm sorry for calling late, but there’s a party we need to go”.

_____________________________________________

The scenario in which Jung Jaehyun found himself was not unfamiliar to him. His ears had been ringing from a few meters away before he arrived at one of the Suh residences; with Wong Lucas by his side and stepping out of his own car: a BMW M2, a car that he had won from a rich kid in one of his many bets a few months ago, thanks to his luck and his driving skills.

And since then, it had become his favorite car. Luckily, he could occasionally take it to his friend Taeyong's workshop to make some adjustments and add a couple of details to make the car even better.

Entering the mansion, he could see some familiar faces a few meters away from him. Some greeted him warmly as their dealer was just entering, while others tried to avoid him like the plague. Either way, Jaehyun didn't care how they looked at him.

He came with a single purpose in mind.

It was incredible to see how much someone like Johnny Suh could invest in one of his parties: it was crazy to see how he splurged everything for a simple night. However, that was his perfect hook for his businesses, and if he had to give double the money to Sooman by Monday, he had to get started right away.

Without exchanging a single word with Lucas and lightly taking him by the arm, he brought him closer to the wall; from his pocket, he took out a couple of small bags and immediately handed them to his friend, who only nodded, understanding everything and putting what Jaehyun had given him into the pockets of his jacket. They hugged with a quick pat on the back, and again, without saying anything, they separated.

Observing the environment cautiously, Jaehyun went into the luxurious house, trying to blend in with the people there. His ears were still ringing, and the smell of marijuana reached his nose. He inhaled subtly and relaxed his posture when Johnny Suh's figure stood in front of him.

"Jung Jaehyun!" the guy exclaimed, opening his arms. "Welcome to the Suh residence, my favorite dealer. What do you have for me this wonderful night?" he asked curiously while waving his hands.

Jaehyun put his hand in his pocket and carefully showed him the contents he had there, causing Johnny to smile ecstatically.

"Half or an ounce?" Jaehyun asked, putting the small bag back into his jacket.

"An ounce, my friend."

Friend, surely.

"You know how much it is," Jaehyun said as he took out the small bag again and placed it in the guy's hand, receiving a 50,000 won bill in his other hand in return. "Dude, I don't have any change with me," he warned.

"What are you talking about, Jae? Keep the change and enjoy the night. The drinks are by the kitchen, take whatever you want, and if you happen to go up to any of the rooms, don't forget to lock it," he patted his chest with a wink from his eye and left his sight without saying more.

Even with a bit of evident surprise on his face, he tucked the bill into his wallet and continued on his way; it would be a long night, so why not have a little fun while selling all his stuff?

He didn't know at what exact moment his first drink of the night ended, nor did he know at what moment he found himself among a circle of people who had bought at least a quarter of what he needed to sell, nor did he know at what moment his hand ended up on the waist of a girl who was looking at him while batting her eyelashes at him.

He knew better than anyone that it wasn't time to get drunk, especially with the heavy merchandise he was carrying with him, but how good it felt the slight dizziness that passed through his head, the weed made him momentarily forget everything. When he was younger, he had sworn he wouldn't fall into alcohol so easily, but it was a temptation that was hard to resist, and eventually, weed also helped. For a moment, he could be himself and forget everything at home, in his neighborhood, at work.

But how hard it was when all that effect wore off and he became simply Jaehyun again, the number one dealer of Neo Zone.

His eyes momentarily diverted from the girl in front of him, watching as at the back of the room there was a Yellow Wood guy; one of the gang his brother had gotten into trouble with, selling a package similar to the ones he was selling to none other than Hwang Daeho.

He didn't know what had come over him because clearly it wasn't his problem, but slowly he left the small group he was in, hearing behind him how the girl he had spent the whole night with called him while he ignored her, heading towards the two young men.

"Hey, Chris," Jaehyun greeted with a serious expression. "Don't worry, I'll take care of this guy."

"Oh, Jung, don't get involved when I'm finishing a deal," the mentioned one responded as he pocketed the bills Daeho had given me. "Don't think we've forgotten about the little show your brother and his friends put on a couple of months ago on the train tracks."

He clenched his jaw and could feel Daeho tense beside him. "It's not like I'm going to forget that you're dealing and doing business in Neo Zone territory either, go back to your city and sell there," the tattooed guy explained as he dangerously approached him.

"Look, Jung, the last thing I want tonight is a fight, so stop getting in my way," Chris replied as he walked away from the guys.

When they were alone, Jaehyun stood in front of Daeho and stretching out his hand, he spoke: "Give me what he sold you."

It wasn't his problem, so why was he doing this? He hadn't sold him anything, so he hadn't broken any deal.

Was alcohol playing tricks on him, making (Y/N)'s face appear in his mind? Daeho looked at him without understanding what he was asking for, and that was enough for Jaehyun to let out a heavy sigh to repeat: "Give me any crap that idiot sold you."

"Look, Jaehyun, I don't know what's going on, and if this has to do with buying from someone outside your area, I'm sorry, but dude, you haven't wanted to sell me anything in the last few weeks, and I can't go a single damn day without getting something else," Daeho explained, putting the package away in his bag and refusing to comply with what Jaehyun had just asked.

"I don't give a damn that you can't keep your damn body clean, but apparently, your cousin does care, so give me that," he demanded again.

"What does (Y/N) have to do with all this? Are you fucking her or something?" asked the boy in front of him with annoyance, and now that he paid attention, his eyes were slightly bloodshot.

He didn't have time to deal with a junkie right now.

"Go ahead, champ. Go keep putting that crap into your body, I don't want you crossing paths with me all night," Jaehyun requested, touching the bridge of his nose, feeling Daehyuk getting closer to him.

That guy had courage out of nowhere.

And that's what a substance can do for you.

"I remind you that you're no better than me, you consume it and sell it."

Daeho stepped away from him, leaving him alone and causing him to clench his fist. He was tired, tired of remembering every minute of his life how messed up it was. Did he have another option? No, he didn't have any other option, right now, it was either to sell all that heaviness in the pockets of his jacket or risk ending up on Monday with a beaten body and having to hide it from his mother.

The night was still young, and he had to end up with those empty pockets. He just hoped Lucas was doing his part correctly.

____________________________________________

Jungwoo was next to (Y/N); it had been a while since he and his friend went out partying, and although clearly, she wasn't there to have fun, she wanted to make the most of the night.

The girl next to him scanned the room for any sign of her cousin, but there was no trace of him. The familiar faces of her classmates ran through her mind, and she was starting to feel overwhelmed.

"(Y/N), I know you're worried about your cousin and all that," heard her best friend's voice above the music, "but I also know you need to have some fun. Why don't we do that? It's been a while since we've been to a party; we should make the most of it, and then later, you can kick Daeho's ass."

"I don't know, Woo."

"Look, the same pressure Daeho says he feels is the same pressure your parents put on you, and after the scene they made today at dinner? Don't you think you deserve a break?"

Jungwoo approached the table where a couple of drinks were, quickly preparing a paloma for his friend and handing it to her after finishing it.

"Let's enjoy the night, break away from your home, and be yourself. Not the girl your parents expect you to be, not the girl your business expects you to be. Just the teenager you are now, just that." The girl, although not very convinced, nodded and then took a sip of her drink, feeling that Jungwoo had put more alcohol than soda in it. The boy laughed at his friend's reaction and hugged her by the shoulders.

"Alright, let's have fun tonight."

(Y/N) had never been a big fan of alcohol, especially beer. If she occasionally enjoyed a drink, it was usually some kind of elegant wine that her father had in the mini wine cellar at home; some kind of Cabernet Sauvignon or Pinot Grigio... however, tonight, the acidity that ran down her throat every time she took a sip of her commercial beer was a feeling of ecstasy.

She didn't know if it was because Jungwoo's words were really resonating in the back of her head, where she remembered that, right now, what she needed to do was relax and distance herself from her family. Because she deserved it. So she wasn't sure when she lost sight of her best friend during the night, maybe it was sometime around eleven or twelve at night when Jungwoo left her side; nor was she sure when her head started to feel light after the third beer, but she was sure she was starting to lose count.

Normally, it was always Jungwoo and (Y/N), stuck side by side and never separating, which is why, at that moment, it was strange to see the girl around classmates, with whom she rarely engaged in conversation, but she truly didn't care in the state she was in, because she was having a good time, and especially because a nice guy, whom she didn't recognize, was making her laugh like she hadn't in a long time.

Her phone felt heavy in the small bag she was carrying, especially because she was aware of the numerous calls and messages she had been ignoring from her mother since she had arrived at the Suh residence, and although she knew she should answer those calls, she firmly believed that she didn't want to deal with her and her father.

For now, she just wanted to be a girl having fun and forgetting about everything else.

The image of Daeho had been temporarily erased from her mind a while ago, but at some point in her night, the doubt of whether Jung Jaehyun had attended the party had arisen.

Still, she couldn't see him.

Amidst all the numbness her mind was going through, she didn't notice when subtly the guy she had been talking to for an hour moved her away from the group of people they were with. Chris, she remembered his name, had a slight grip on her waist; something she hadn't paid the slightest attention to.

"Why are we moving away?" (Y/N) asked in a sleepy voice, letting herself be guided by the steps the guy took.

"Oh, I just thought it would be good if we moved away a bit to talk more. You know, we can get to know each other a little better," the guy responded, causing the girl to overlook the hint of malice that came out of his mouth.

"But we were fine with the others," she dragged her words as she tried to move away from Chris's grip on her body. "Where's Jungwoo?" she asked when her inner alarm went off.

"He must be around here somewhere, don't worry; we'll look for him later," he replied as he gently brought his lips to the girl's ear and then moved them to her jawline. "Let's have a good time for now."

A light kiss was planted there, and it was then that her senses returned coldly, and all the dizziness she had previously experienced disappeared slightly; putting her hands on the guy's chest to push him away abruptly.

"No, I don't want to look for him later. I want to go with Jungwoo now," the girl demanded after her failed attempt to push him away.

"Calm down, Hwang. You've been practically all over me all night; it's not time to start playing hard to get, is it?"

"What are you talking about, idiot?" she questioned sharply and tried to push him again; she looked into his eyes with anger and could see in them the way they were droopy, slightly bloodshot, and that's when she could gather who this guy was and what he did with his lif “let go of me now or...”

"Or what? Stop pretending to be a fucking innocent; it doesn't suit you," he said as he, again, brought his mouth to the girl's neck.

And surprised by the strength she found in that moment, with a strong push and after struggling, she was able to push him far enough to release a punch that went straight to his jaw.

"You damn bitch," the guy spat, letting go of her and grabbing her face.

"That would be the last time you touch me, and get that if a girl says no, it's because she means no."

"You'll regret it, you fucking bitch."

With her heart pounding in her chest and her mind still accompanied by a slight dizziness, she began to move away from the guy and the dark hallway she was in. It was difficult to walk when her legs felt shaky from the scene she had been involved in; she scolded herself mentally for drinking the amount of alcohol she had drunk, knowing well her low tolerance to it.

She looked for Jungwoo with her eyes, and it was difficult to find him when her vision was blurry. She wanted to get out of there. She wanted to do it now.

What an idiot Chris had been. She hated it when men looked for things that weren't there. She had never hinted that she wanted anything, nor that she wanted to get away from the group. She felt dirty to remember where his hands had been. How his fingerprints felt on her skin and how she wanted to hit him again in his stupid face.

She felt something strange in her chest, she didn't know how to explain it; it was a combination of anger and vulnerability she was experiencing. The slight distress she felt there could be noticed on her face, surrounded by so many people under the effects of who knows what substance, feeling her body reacting slowly and not knowing where the hell Jungwoo had gone.

When she felt a hand on her arm, stopping her steps, she feared it was Chris, who had gone after her. And with her breath caught in her throat, she turned around to find a pair of eyes that took her by surprise.

"Hey, are you okay, Angel?"

She thought it was the first time she was glad to see Jaehyun.

It wasn't weird seeing Jaehyun in Johnny's house, she knew he's use to come to this parties at the end his presence was required if her classmates wanted to have a good time. What it was weird to her a that in the last two weeks he has seen Jaehyun more often that her own cousin, that always seemed to have an excuse to avoid her.

She didn’t know if it was of the dizziness she was feeling or what, but Jung Jaehyun looked good. All dressed up in black leather, with his neck tattoo decorating his body and his pulled hair back. She must be really fucked up if she was thinking in how hot Jaehyun looked.

But that wasn’t the case right now, she needed someone because she couldn’t trust herself in that state.

And right now, among all the people inside the residence and adding that Jungwoo was nowhere to be found, Jaehyun was the only person she could rely on.

Could she really?

She thought there wasn't much difference between Chris and Jaehyun. In the end, they both did the same thing. Sure, in different areas, but their lives revolved around similar things; situations, people, experiences.

"I... I don't know where Jungwoo is," she clumsily said.

In her voice, Jaehyun could notice the slight clumsiness in tone, realizing that the girl had been drinking, approaching her delicately, now he could see the expression of concern on her face.

"And then that idiot of Chris," she continued with a disgusted face, and upon hearing the mention, Jaehyun defensively turned to look at her.

"Has Chris approached you? Was it something about Daeho?" he asked quickly.

(Y/N) nervously bit her lip to avoid the boy's gaze and again put her gaze on the hall where they were.

Where the hell was Jungwoo?

"Shit," the girl blurted out when she realized, "Chris sold something to Daeho, didn't he?" Seeing the expression on the boy's face, she knew the answer. "Damn it, I'm so sick of this," she said as she put her hands on her head. Her breathing quickened, and she felt her hands trembling. "What the hell do I have to do for Daeho to stop this nonsense? I came here to find him, and then Jungwoo thought it would be a good idea to have fun," she spoke quickly, causing Jaehyun to only catch a few words. "I'm sick of my mom and my aunt arguing about which family is better, then Jungwoo disappears, and the stupid of Chris tries something with me”.

"What? Has he done something to you?" Jaehyun asked, surprised.

"What's the point of having this damn deal with you?" she ignored the boy's words and continued, "I know you told me that Daeho would find another dealer as soon as he wanted to use again, but I had hoped he wouldn't. Now I'm overwhelmed with my tasks and yours, that damn report I have to submit in four days, and my mind is stuck. I don't know what else to do to keep everything at one hundred percent, when I'm not even at five percent," she confessed without thinking, and when she realized what she had done, she lowered her gaze. "Sorry, I know you're not someone who cares about this."

She turned around without letting the boy say anything, and after walking a bit, she heard behind her:

"Come on, I'll take you home."

Her brow furrowed, and she turned to face the boy, confused, she asked, "Huh?"

"It seems like you've been drinking a bit too much, and Jungwoo is nowhere to be found, I'll take you home, even if your car is parked around, I don't think it's wise to drive like this."

"What about you?"

"I stopped drinking two hours ago," the boy replied simply, "let's go."

When Jaehyun started walking, (Y/N)'s steps became almost automatic; without thinking about where she was going or with whom, they only followed the silhouette of the boy in front of her without a word.

Perhaps a few seconds later, when she noticed she was in front of Jaehyun's BMW, her mind questioned what she was doing.

She hadn't made wise decisions tonight.

With her hand hesitating on the door handle, debating her actions and whether she should get into the car or not, with her senses heightened knowing it was Jung Jaehyun who, presumably, would take her home, and with the same, already inside the car, waiting for her to react and finally make up her mind; her body trembled.

The music from the residence still echoed in her ears, yet above it, she could hear Jaehyun calling her from inside... and then, without further thought; she got into the car.

The car, to her surprise, looked clean; the scent she could perceive from it was odd... like a combination of marijuana and vanilla, in smoky tones... and now that she thought about it of the few times she managed to be close to Jaehyun, that was the same smell she perceived, and she couldn't help but think it was a pleasant smell. Odd but pleasant.

Jaehyun knew where the Hwang residence was, he had been close once when he had to make some deliveries in that area; that's why he didn't need to ask the girl for any directions, besides he didn't feel like having a chat, especially with someone he doubted was in their right mind.

The first few minutes were silent, she could hear (Y/N)'s soft breathing above the sounds of his own car, and he hoped the rest of the journey would be like that; until she decided to speak: “do you use as well?”

Jaehyun was taken back for the sudden question and the he shook his head. “Sometimes I smoke weed, but that the only thing I use. I don’t like other shit, I might not be the greatest person but I appreciate my body” he said jockingly. It was weird seeing Jaehyun joking with her. “But really, weed is the only thing I like.”

“Doesn’t make you an addict?” she questions again.

“Don’t think so” he answers. “I don’t do it often. Only when I’m really stressed about something, I can control myself” he says and she stayed quiet for a couple of minutes.

“What's next for you?" She asked out of sudden again, making Jaehyun furrow his eyebrows while he kept looking at the road.

"What do you mean?" Jaehyun asked without looking at her.

"It's the last year of school, do you know what's next for you?" (Y/N) asked again this time she stop looking at the window and she put his gaze in him.

Jaehyun scoffed "Do you really want to know?"

Did he really wanted to answer?

This is the longest talk they have ever had.

"I mean... I guess so"

The boy hated thinking about future. And now he hated even more because some preppy girl had to ask about it.

"I don't know" he said. "I don't think about future a lot if I'm honest" he didn't know why he answer though. He could just not say nothing if he wanted to.

"But you should" (Y/N) commented. "College is just around corner and there's a lot of options you should look up".

Jaehyun let out a laughter that left (Y/N) confused. Was he laughing at her? She tilted her head, she didn't know what was so funny.

"College isn't an option for me" he said as he stopped in a red light and then he moved his head so he could look at her. He didn't know why he was telling all of this. "There's no next for me after high school"

"You can't be serious" she mumbled. "There most be and option that can suit you"

"You don't know shit" he said and that alone made (Y/N) move in her sit a little bit uncomfortable.

"No, I might not but if you say that there's no other option for you... then I'm sorry, Jaehyun, I think I have to end the deal with you."

When Jaehyun abruptly stopped the car, he was glad that there was a red light at the traffic signal.

"What?"

"I'm tired of trying to help Daeho when he doesn't want to be helped," she confessed without even looking at him, "and... I think it's time to focus on me. It's too much work. Yours... mine... if I want to keep good grades, my assignments alone are enough, and if you don't have an interest in making something good for you, then I'll stop helping you out as well".

Jaehyun shook his head: "No, but I need your help. I can't fail. I can't be kicked out of school."

"I don't understand, Jaehyun," she said, changing her gaze from the street to the boy's eyes, "I don't understand why all this fuss about not being able to be kicked out of school if it’s because you don't want to ruin your business, not because you genuinely want to be better in your school life. You said it yourself, college isn't an option for you so, if this is only about your work I don't want to be involved or have any influence in something that is not legal".

Jaehyun's hands tensed on the steering wheel.

"You don't need to understand," he said as he moved forward at the green light, "they can't kick me out of school," he repeated firmly.

"Well, I'm sorry, Jaehyun. I made the decision. I appreciate the weeks when you didn't sell anything to Daeho, but even so, he finds a way to consume. It's not your fault. And I finally realized it's not my fault either. I also appreciate you taking me home, but after tonight, you'll go your way and I'll go mine."

"So you're okay with me being kicked out?" He asked with a side smile.

"We're not friends, Jaehyun" she stated. "We were just helping each other out. But if my cousin doesn't want to be helped, I don't need your help neither. I’m sorry if you needed mine but I can’t keep up with this anymore. Being involved with you was dangerous enough and I think it’s for the better"

It hadn't been long since the damn deal had taken place, but inside Jaehyun, he liked having an occasional interaction with the girl, especially if it was to annoy her... he found it funny every time she wrinkled her nose when she was upset with him or the way she tenderly rolled her eyes after he made a silly comment on purpose.

He might got used to her a little.

"I knew you rich kids weren’t faithful to your word" he said. "I guess I can't force you to anything," Jaehyun let out a sigh.

Another fifteen minutes passed in complete silence, with some discomfort on both sides. (Y/N) looking anywhere out of the windows but not putting her gaze on Jaehyun, and the boy was focused on the wheel.

Anyone who saw the scene would laugh to see two people as different as Hwang (Y/N) and Jung Jaehyun in the same car.

She was sure Jungwoo would laugh if he saw them.

Of course, after she kicked him a few times for leaving her.

She didn't notice precisely when they were entering her residence; it wasn't until the car stopped abruptly, and she could see through the window the immense house in front of them.

It was more appealing to stay in that car with the dealer than to deal with her mother.

"I guess it's time for me to go," (T/N) said, grabbing the car handle, "Thank you... Jaehyun... for bringing me, and I'm sorry I can't help you with your work anymore... but I can't do it."

The boy smiled slightly and adjusted his jacket as he shook his head.

"Take care, Angel," Jaehyun said and then said no more.

Jaehyun hadn't been a bad guy to her during the time they had agreed on the deal, however... for her own good; she hoped they wouldn't cross paths again, like it was before the start of the deal.

Jung Jaehyun was a dealer from the Neo Zone, and she had an image to uphold, that's why it was better for each to take their place.

But what was that she felt when she got out of the car and saw Jaehyun leave without even looking at her one last time?

a/n: taglist is open! thank you for reading! wait 4 the next chapter!

there’s a mention of Winwin, what could have happened to him?:0 idk, you might found in the next chapter, who knows?;)) I hope you liking this so far, sorry but I’m more into longer chapter than short ones. Love ya! Oh I’m also posting a Taeyong au later so check it out!

taglist: @gojoscumslut @bluedbliss s @dear-97 @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @hana-off-icial

#nctzen #nct #nct au #nct imagines #nct x reader #jaehyun #nct 127 #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun x you #bad boy jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jung jaehyun #nct gang #gang au #nct x you #nct smut #nct scenarios #bad boy #bad boy au #mark #nct mafia au #fanfic #nct fanfic #jaehyun au #jaehyun fanfic

[hisui-dreamer]

hiii rinna!!! congratulations on 2k!!!!!! ˃ᴗ˂ 🫶🫶🫶🎉🎉🎉🎉agsgsh I hope I'm not too late ^^"

can I request silver with white rose? :D

foolish decisions in blossoming love

Pairing: Silver x gn!reader

Synopsis: in getting one bouquet for a friend, you ended up getting another bouquet for a stranger

Tags: meet cute, fluff, florist au, reader is just really flustered

Word count: 1.1k+

Notes: you're not late at all kei, im the one who's late ⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙ i hope silver fluff makes up for it!!

Masterlist

flower of choice: white roses

white roses represent pure love, indicating that you are willing to sacrifice your all for your love

The bell tinkled gently as you pushed open the door to the quaint flower shop. Stepping inside, you were immediately enveloped in a symphony of fragrances, the sweet aroma of fresh blooms mingling with the earthy scent of potted plants. The air was alive with vitality, as if each petal and leaf whispered secrets of beauty and renewal.

Your gaze swept over the charming interior, your eyes drinking in the riot of colours and shapes that adorned every corner of the shop. A kaleidoscope of blossoms greeted you, their vibrant hues dancing in the soft, golden light that filtered through the windows. It was a scene straight out of a painting, a sanctuary of serenity amidst the bustling city streets.

You caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye, and your attention was drawn to the silver-haired man, positioned behind the counter. His fingers expertly arranged a bouquet with effortless skill, moving with a fluidity that hinted at years of practice. The gentle sunlight bathed his face, creating a soft halo around his silhouette.

Your heart skipped a beat as you beheld him, and your breath momentarily caught in your throat. There was an ethereal quality to his presence, reminiscent of a fairy straight out of a storybook.

"Excuse me," you finally managed to murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you stood before him, spellbound by his presence.

He looked up, his purple-blue eyes meeting yours with a softness that sent shivers down your spine. "Hello there," he replied, a smile gracing his lips. "How may I help you?"

Your mind cleared momentarily, focusing on the reason you came here. "I’m looking to buy a bouquet," you said, your voice steadier now. “My friend hasn't been feeling well lately. I thought some flowers might brighten their day.”

He nodded sympathetically, understanding the sentiment.

“I see… Is there a particular type they like?”

"Not particularly. I just want something to lift their spirits," you answered earnestly.

With a gentle nod, he considered your words, his fingers tracing over the petals of various blooms thoughtfully. “Perhaps a bouquet of lilies," he suggested, his eyes alight with inspiration. "Lilies are often associated with purity and success, making them a perfect choice to wish for a successful recovery."

You hummed at his words, a sense of wonder dawning on your face. "I didn’t know flowers carried messages…" you mumbled curiously.

He smiled warmly, appreciating your interest. "Yes, the language of flowers has been used for centuries to convey sentiments and emotions. Each flower has its own unique symbolism, allowing us to express our feelings in a beautiful and meaningful way," he explained, his passion for flowers shining through in his words.

As you watched him speak, you found yourself drawn to the grace with which he moved, the way his fingers delicately caressed each petal as if coaxing out its hidden secrets. There was something about the warmth in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice, that stirred your soul. You found yourself hanging onto his every word, entranced by the depth of his passion.

It was irrational of you to be so affected by a stranger. You wanted to stay in his presence, to bask in the light of his warmth and kindness for as long as you possibly could. In that fleeting moment, you found yourself inexplicably attached to him, drawn to him in a way that defied all logic and reason.

In an effort to hear him talk more, to hear his calming voice longer, you pointed to a delicate white rose, meekly asking, "What does this one mean?

His eyes crinkled as he smiled gently. "White roses symbolize pure love."

Your heart skipped a beat once again, the meaning of the flower resonating deeply within you. "Pure love," you murmured, lost in thought for a moment. 

“I’ll be right back,” Silver said, breaking you out of your thoughts as he disappeared into the back of the shop with some lilies, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your infatuation towards the gentle florist. You was barely gone for five minutes, but you already missed him, wanting to spend more time with him, to learn more about the stories that lay hidden behind his kind eyes and warm demeanour.

But how could you make it more natural? How could you bridge the gap between customer and florist? The answer eluded you, but you knew that you couldn't let this opportunity slip away.

"Here we are," Silver said, a sense of satisfaction in his voice as he walked back to your side. "I hope it brings comfort and cheer to your friend."

Your eyes shimmered with gratitude as you beheld the finished arrangement. "It’s beautiful…," you breathed, your voice filled with awe. "Thank you. I'm sure they’ll love it."

Silver’s smile brightened at your words, and you felt a surge of courage welling up inside you. With a timid yet determined voice, you finally voiced the words that had been lingering on your tongue. "If it’s alright, I'd like to request another too."

His brows furrowed slightly, a flicker of curiosity crossing his features. "Another bouquet?"

You nodded, bashfulness colouring your cheeks. "Yes, one with white roses, please."

A flash of disappointment crossed his face before he quickly put on a polite smile. “Of course, please wait a moment,” before disappearing in the back again.

A pang of sadness tugged at his heart as he meticulously prepared the delicate white roses. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment knowing that you already had someone in your life whom you wanted to dedicate pure love to. Despite his efforts to hide it, a faint shadow crossed his features as he arranged the flowers with practised care, his thoughts momentarily clouded by a hint of longing.

But as he showed you the completed bouquet, his feelings of melancholy were quickly replaced by a surge of warmth, your genuine appreciation for his assistance washing away any lingering sadness.

You swiftly settled the payment for both bouquets, your heart pounding with anticipation as you gathered your courage. With a determined breath, you reached out and delicately handed Silver the bouquet of white roses. His eyes met yours, a confused expression flickering across his features as he awaited your next move.

"Silver," you began, your voice trembling slightly yet resolute, "these are for you." As the words slipped from your lips, a rush of uncertainty engulfed you, but you pushed through, driven by the intensity of your emotions. "They represent... what I feel for you."

Embarrassment flooded your senses as the rational side of you chastised the idiocy of giving flowers to a florist. Could you be any more embarrassing?

Hastily, you uttered, "Thank you for your help! I hope I’ll see you more often!" Leaving behind a note bearing your number, you made a swift exit with the lilies, the jingle of the bell marking your departure.

But had you lingered for just a moment longer, you would have witnessed a rosy blush blossoming across the florist's cheeks and spreading down his neck, a loving smile spreading across his face.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#✧2k! blossoming bouquets✦ #twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #silver x reader #twst silver #twst silver x reader #✧kei🍡✦

[queenshelby]

Chemical Reactions (P. 5)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Mild Smut, Age-Gap, Infidelity

Words: 2,406

Note: The fic is spoiler free and my own fantasy and imagination. It is not historically and scientifically accurate.

Previous Parts: 1; 2; 3; 4

It was six o’clock on Sunday evening and, just as discussed with your professor a few days ago when he startled you inside the chemistry lab, you were waiting for him to arrive at the Chevalier residence.

Haakon Chevalier and his wife were away for the weekend and you did not expect them to return until tomorrow which is why you believed the timing for your mentoring session to be just perfect. Unlike usual, you made an effort tonight, just in case your professor wanted to stay and explore more than just quantum physics and the collapse of stars and supernovas, which was something that was of particular interest to you when it came to your thesis. You wanted to expand on J Robert Oppenheimer’s very own theory and this was exactly why he became your mentor.

Yet, you wanted him to be more than just that as, at least to you, J Robert Oppenheimer was the most handsome man you had ever seen with his dark hair and his blue eyes, full lips and sharp cheekbones. J Robert Oppenheimer was mature and incredibly intelligent and it was his intellect that turned you on the most. He was smarter than anyone else you had ever met before and you felt as though he understood your intellectual needs and desires just perfectly.

Thus, you stiffened in your chair just by thinking of him and his impending arrival at the Chevalier residence. A mix of dread and desire washed over you and, eventually, you stood up and smoothed down your dress and walked to the bathroom.

You flipped on the light and looked in the mirror before fingering your hair. Your eyes were big and dark, dark lashes curled up with a subtle shimmer painted across your eyelids, matching the simple black dress you were wearing.

It made you look older and more mature and you hoped that Dr Oppenheimer would appreciate it, seeing that you looked elegant but not inappropriately suggestive.

When you were done looking yourself over, you walked downstairs again like a nervous chicken, carrying a few physics books in your hands which you knew you would need in order to discuss your very own theory with him.

You knew that you had to be prepared and prepared you were when, finally, you heard a knock on the door.

“Dr Oppenheimer, please come in” you said after, without wearing any shoes or stockings, you tippy toed towards the door.

“I can see that you have already prepared your paperwork, so we shall get started right away, yes?” Dr Oppenheimer asked, skipping any kind of small talk and cutting straight to the point.

“Yes, perhaps we should, although I was going to offer you a drink first as, no doubt, you had a rather busy and demanding week” you suggested while looking at him and his deep blue eyes which, so seemingly, followed you as you walked across the room barefooted.

“I suppose I could have one drink” Dr Oppenheimer said, falling into your gaze for a short moment, before you forced yourself to look away. You tried hard to take him all in as he took off his hat and suit jacket, but you simply could not. It was way too difficult for you to do so without blushing.

“Wine or gin?” you then asked, although you already knew the answer and had the gin bottle opened before he could respond.

“Gin, please” he confirmed before he dropped his books on to the coffee table as well and sat down on one of the rather soft and comfortable armchairs.

“Alright, gin it is” you said while pouring two glasses and later carrying them over towards where he was sitting before throwing one of the larger pillows onto the rug beneath your feet and kneeling on top of it.

“Should I join you down there?” Dr Oppenheimer then asked with amusement, seeing that you chose to sit on a pillow on the floor rather than on the large sofa behind you.

“If you like. It’s just a silly habit of mine” you pointed out as you opened one of the books that you had placed on top of the large coffee table earlier that night.

“Alright. I suppose the comfort of upholstery is highly overrated” Dr Oppenheimer responded sarcastically before slipping off his shoes, throwing another pillow onto the floor and joining you by sitting down right by your side.

“It sure is, professor” you chuckled before showing him the sheets that you had prepared and, just as you gave him your workbook, your hands touched briefly, resulting yet in another tingle on your skin.

"Well, let's figure out where you are at and what we need to work on” Dr Oppenheimer told you while taking a pen from the stash of pens you had left on the table and reading through your calculations which, in his mind, appeared to be incomplete.

“Miss Y/LN, you seem to have omitted a few steps in your calculations” he then pointed out and, when you looked at your papers again, you realised that he was right. An entire sheet was missing and you did not know where you had put it.

“I am so sorry. I did write it all out but I must have left some of my notes at the lab last night when I was working with the reactor” you admitted with great embarrassment, causing Dr Oppenheimer to furrow his eyebrows and make a somewhat terrible suggestion.

“Can you replicate your calculations?” he asked and, by this point, panic had sat in.

“From memory?” you asked and when Dr Oppenheimer nodded, you nodded as well, telling him that you would try.

Unfortunatly for you though, as soon as you put pen to paper, you were lost. You were so completely lost that, by that time, you had forgotten that Dr Oppenheimer was even sitting there watching you and then you jumped when he touched the small of your back and told you to stop what you were doing.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you..." he said while pointing at the problem you were facing and, just as he did, you locked eyes and you could not look away. It was as though he was peering into your soul, searching out your deepest secrets and desires. His pupils expanded as his iris contracted. The colours shifted through a spectrum of greys and blues and you were absolutely lost in his eyes.

“I can show you my calculations upstairs, in my bedroom. I did them before starting the experiment. The experiment confirmed some of my theory and the calculations I did earlier this week, except for formula three. Formula three changed and I can replicate this change. Come. I will show you” you then said suddenly and a little too abruptly after snapping out of your trance and your words startled Dr Oppenheimer as well.

"You want me to come upstairs, to your bedroom?” he asked somewhat surprised while furrowing his eyebrows again and you nodded.

“Yes. Come on” you said while noticing that his eyes were wandering to your breasts as you stood up and, just as they did, his chest flexed, either involuntarily or on purpose.

“Mhhm” Dr Oppenheimer then simply said, clearing his throat before standing up and following you upstairs, to your bedroom.

***

Seconds later, you reached your bedroom and when Dr Oppenheimer saw the large chalk board across from your bed, he was rather surprised.

In fact, he was surprised by the entirety of your bedroom which consisted of a small bed, three overfilled bookshelves, a small closet, and an oversized chalkboard, containing calculations on dark matter.

“This is one hell of a chalkboard” Dr Oppenheimer thus teased and you could not help but break out in laughter, seeing how awkward this was, standing in your bedroom with your professor.

“I only just realised how inappropriate it was for me to ask you to come to my bedroom. I am so sorry” you acknowledged while he stood there, totally engulfed by his own thoughts of stars exploding.

“Uh huh” he simply murmured while taking in what you are suggesting just as you amended formula three, replicating what you saw during your experiments in the lab.

“What you are suggesting is not the collapse of a star. It is the explosion of a star. There would have to be an ejection of most of its mass which is something that has to be visible” Dr Oppenheimer then said with his velvet smooth voice as he looked you right in the eyes.

“Yes, it would be visible, from space, but not necessarily from here. It depends entirely on the location of the star” you responded with some nervousness in your voice which is when Robert shifted closer towards you and you could feel the heat from his body beside you.

It was purely intoxicating and, if you were to lean in right now, you would have been able to kiss him. But, you only let that thought simmer for a moment before pushing it away, afraid to make the move which you wanted him to make so desperately.

“This hypothesis would change how we think about nuclear transformation” Robert eventually said and your cheeks became flushed as you tried to deflect on his statement, but your brain did not think so you blurted out a slightly whispered "maybe"..

“Maybe?” Robert chuckled. His smile grew big and his eyes began to search you, causing you to gulp.

“You should be more confident with your answer Miss Y/LN” Robert then said before leaning in slightly and bringing his hands up to gently touch your face.

“You are smart and intelligent. Your calculations seem to be correct and logical and your conclusions are impressive. Now you just have to prove your theory” Robert told you with a sense of affection and awe in his voice, to which you simply nodded again, unable to form words under the attraction that you were feeling towards this god-like man right now.

“You impressed me Y/N” Robert then pointed out, for the first time using your first name, as he moved one of his fingers to your lips, tracing an outline of them.

You gasped in response to his gentle touch while your body was vibrating for him. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest and you could hear the whooshing of blood as your body radiated from his touch.

“May I kiss you?” he then asked somewhat reluctantly himself as he leaned his face towards yours until his lips were almost touching your lips.

“Yes, please do” you gasped as you stopped breathing before, suddenly, you felt the anticipation of a teenage girl waiting for her crush to kiss her at a school dance.

Following your approval, Robert closed the gap between you, touching his lips to yours. He was slow at first, but then you become enveloped with passion and your hands reached for his hair and your tongue pushed through the barrier of his lips and reached its destination.

Your tongues became encompassed with a passionate dance and you moaned against his lips while slowly, but surely, losing control. Robert’s hands began to move from your face down to your arms, moving lower and lower until they were resting on your thighs as you were still locked in this passionate dance of mouths, only ever pausing to breathe.

Robert was a sensational kisser and just as he circled his tongue around yours his hands started moving up your thighs again slightly. Your body responded by begging them to move faster and then, all so suddenly, an unfamiliar heat began to form in your lower regions.

With that, you started to move a little and your hands became bolder and bolder as you continued to envelop each other mouths. You ran yours hands down Robert’s chest, teasing the fabric of his shirt before, finally, your hands moved lower as your fingers caught the edge of where his shirt met his belt.

You then started undoing one button after another, moving upwards one by one, praying that he would not resist and, sure enough, resistance was the last thing on Robert’s mind right now.

Eventually, while still kissing each other, you completed your task and his heat poured out as soon as the white fabric dropped to the floor, revealing his slim but incredible physique. You then began to touch him, running your hands down his chest and through the small patch of hair on his chest before feeling the taut muscle under your fingers.

As you were touching Robert gently, he moaned against your lips while, all at the same time, his fingers moved up until they were resting at the back of your dress, which is where Robert found the very top of your zipper.

As he slowly unzipped your dress, you began to moan louder, almost begging for him to touch you which is when slipped his fingers beneath the fabric and you gently pushed your garment down until your dress was caught by the outline of your hips.

This when you opened your eyes, breaking your kiss momentarily.

“I should let you know that I have not done this before” you stammered huskily against his lips as his hands caressed the skin now exposed on your back.

“What do you mean?” Robert asked as he held you close, never letting go of his embrace.

“I have not slept with anyone yet. Not with a man anyway. It just never eventuated” you admitted, causing Robert to clear his throat and withdraw.  

“Then perhaps we should stop this right here. I am not the man for you” he pointed out and you reached for his hands, holding them in yours before bringing them back to your half-naked body.

“Why?” you asked huskily, wanting to continue you where you had left of.

“Because I will not be able to give you what you want” Robert determined but you shook your head and sighed.

“I haven’t told you what I want, so do you just presume to know?” you asked while rolling your eyes.

“I am married and I am not going to leave my wife” Robert said before withdrawing again and, for a brief moment, you stepped away from him and leaned back against the chalkboard with yet another sigh escaping your lips.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #Oppenheimer #oppenheimer x reader #j robert oppenheimer #j robert oppenheimer x reader #oppenheimer x you #j robert oppenheimer x you #oppenheimer x y/n #robert oppenheimer #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: Give Me Something Good to Eat [Yandere Nikolai Gogol x Reader]

Title: Give Me Something Good to Eat [Yandere Nikolai Gogol x Reader]

Synopsis: Nikolai arranges for a special session of trick or treating for you... emphasis on trick.

For Horrorfest request:

hello!! could i please request trick or treating(with a deadly twist or something) with nikolai gogol from bsd?

Word count: 4059

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, torture, extreme graphic violence and gore (not against reader); a bit of vomit and throwing up; reader has a boyfriend;

“It’s so simple! All you have to do is say trick or treat at every door…” 

Nikolai gazed at you with his singular visible eye and a sweet, terrible grin on his face. He was decked out in an elaborate jester costume--though perhaps it was not so out of sorts with his ordinary clothing. 

Tonight he sported a purple and black concoction with dramatic patterns and bells sewn onto the sleeves. It was almost identical to the jester costume he made you wear tonight, except your bells were not on the sleeves, but on a collar he’d strapped around your neck. It made you feel, in turns, like a prisoner and a pet.

Perhaps, to him, you were both.

He snapped his fingers in front of your face, regaining your attention.

“Do pay attention, kukol'nyy, it would be so boring to repeat myself.”

You acknowledged him with a grimace that made the carefully applied face paint on your cheeks crinkle. The feel of it was stiff and sticky, but familiar--not just because he had a habit of dolling you up, but because it reminded you of the Halloween costumes you used to wear in childhood, always smeared with some kind of paint on your face.

“One,” he said, ticking up his fingers as he went on. “You have to knock on every door. Don’t be naughty and skip any!”  

The doors in question were not the doors of some neighborhood houses--you’re mildly grateful for that, considering the fact that the man in front of you was not above killing innocents --but the doors of a hallway in the compound where you were currently being kept. 

“Two,” he continued, flicking away a bit of hair from his forehead. “You have to say, ‘trick or treat.’” 

His expression seemed to take on a peculiar amusement, but you didn’t dare ask for an elaboration. Elaborations, you’d learned, were often disturbing. Or painful. Or both. 

“Three…” He hummed, and tapped his chin theatrically. “How about, have fun? Yes, that will do nicely!”

He clapped his hands together and thrust something into your arms, which you grabbed at instinctively. It was a large plastic bag with a Frankenstein pattern on it, the kind children carried around in droves on Halloween night, unless their parents gave them musty pillowcases instead. 

You stood, dumbly, until he gave you a nudge towards the hallway. Your legs obeyed the awful instructions your brain gave them, though your brain would have much rather run in the opposite direction. You knew this would not be some ordinary trick or treating. It couldn’t be, with the man behind you.

Or was he still…

Goosebumps sprinkled up your arm the moment you turned around. He was gone.

Fuck.

--

The hallway was dimly lit and bare, like every room in this compound except the one Gogol kept you in, which he’d draped in all sorts of mismatched blankets and decorations. You preferred the sparseness everywhere else, though, because at least it didn’t remind you of him.

You sighed. Nothing good would come of this. It made your stomach churn, but what else could you do? If you didn’t play his games, he hurt you. And you got the feeling that there were only so many times he would tolerate your refusals before he got far too annoyed to keep you around, no matter how much he seemed to enjoy punishing you for not obeying. 

It opened slowly, almost comically slow, like something out of a cheesy horror movie. 

So you swallowed against the tightness of your throat and knocked on the first door.

The door opened to reveal that Gogol stood there, and for a moment you thought--run--before he simply pulled out a large bowl heaping with candy. 

“Treat!” He said, beaming, and dropped a fistful of candy into the bag you were holding. His fingers lingered on your own, dancing across the top; the bells on his sleeves rang, a hollow sound in the still hallway.

And then the door shut.

If you had only been recently taken by him, you might have thought: this wasn’t so bad! Maybe he just wanted some Halloween fun. Maybe he would be content with silly trick or treating. 

But you weren’t so naive anymore. He knew it, too, which made you wonder why he bothered with such displays. Maybe he genuinely enjoyed doing a nice thing now and then. If handing you candy instead of, oh, making you tell him which of your friends you’d rather he kill was a “nice thing.” 

Or maybe he enjoyed pretending that you were lulled into a false sense of security before doing something awful. 

You knocked on the second door. It opened, and again you were struck by the almost comical nature of the creaking, but this time Gogol wasn’t standing there. There was only a muddy darkness, hiding everything but vague shapes and shadows inside the room. 

A smell came from the room. Something faint but distinct. Metallic and earthy with a sweet rot underneath. The smell had your innards feeling tight and light, a primal knowledge that made your senses start to prepare for what might be in store. 

“Treat or treat,” you said, breathy, to no one in particular.

And then Gogol’s voice called out jovially into the darkness: “Trick!”

Your stomach seemed to yank itself inward just as a light bulb was pulled on in the center of the room, one of those old fashioned things you usually only saw in warehouses and basements, complete with a dim, flickering light. 

But it wasn’t the light bulb that you focused on. No, no, no.

It was the scene in the center of the room, which your brain couldn’t fully comprehend at first. It was worse when it did finally catch up with what your eyes were visually processing, because instead of seeing vague blobs of red and black, you were able to genuinely see what was in front of you with awful clarity. 

There was a scarecrow in the center of the room, but it was immediately clear that the scarecrow was actually a corpse. Or part of one. The head was stuffed burlap, but the face--the skin of it--was real, stretched out and stitched on with slapdash stitches. 

The torso of the scarecrow was death-bloated underneath a plaid shirt, the skin all mottled, looking like it might begin to ooze all sorts of biles and pus at any moment. You could practically smile at what was hiding underneath all that bloat, stretching the stomach, begging to be released and spill onto the floor. 

Acidic, earthy rot, tinged with something your nose processed as sweet.

There was nothing sweet about the scene in front of you.

Your eyes raked in the rest of the creation. 

The hands were blackened, hanging slack. Maybe he’d been tied up until Gogol made him into this morbid decoration. Did he die fast or slow? Gogol could make both types of death sickeningly cruel, you’d found, so perhaps it didn’t matter. 

There were no feet hanging out of the trousers of the scarecrow. Did Gogol cut off the legs and leave them for the dogs to eat? A sick thought, the result of being all too familiar with corpses by now, came: maybe the corpse was old enough that the legs had simply fallen off when Gogol picked it up. Rotting flesh wasn’t terribly hard to tear apart. Under the right conditions, it might come off like pulled pork. 

Maybe so.

But it was the head of the scarecrow that interested you most, or rather, the face. The human face, dead skin, pulled and contorted over the farm-friendly burlap sack. Cartoonish white and blue eyes were painted underneath the holes cut where eyeballs had, no doubt, once rested.

Somehow you could sense an expression of agony on that face, although the lips were stitched shut to resemble a smile. If there had been real eyes underneath it, they would have been wide open, pupils blown, darting to-and-fro in a search for mercy. 

There was no such thing as true mercy once Gogol came into your life. 

The face skinned and sewn onto the burlap probably would not have been recognizable, except for one distinguishing feature that remained: a large mole on the cheek which almost resembled two moles side-by-side.  

The corpse was your boss. Well. Your former boss, in more ways than one. 

You’d hated him (but you didn’t want him dead) because he liked to pinch your ass and suggest you come to his office before you left work, an offer you never took him up on.

Maybe you’d complained about this in earshot of Gogol, when he was stalking you. Maybe Gogol saw your boss do one of these things. It was hard to say. Either way, he’d been targeted. Was he more deserving of death than the others in your life who had fallen victim to the monstrous jester who took you captive? You pushed such thoughts away--they were useless. 

Food lurched from your stomach into your esophagus as you turned around to leave, but you swallowed against it. He wasn’t the first person Gogol had killed and brought before you, like a cat leaving a dead bird on his owner’s kitchen floor. 

He probably wouldn’t be the last, either.

You shut the door behind you and found yourself mildly relieved at the loss of the smell.

There was nothing to do but keep going. 

You knocked on the third door, but you couldn’t muster up the energy to say trick or treat when it opened. You’d already seen a horror tonight, so what else might be in store? Thoughts slid into one ear and you forced them quickly out the other, flashes of the corpse of your friend, then your father, a favorite professor…

Someone pinched your arm, hard, and you gasped. A whisper of his voice tickled your neck. 

“Play by the rules,” the voice murmured, before whisking itself away.

Your mouth was dry and sticky as you forced the words out:

“Trick or treat.”

You didn’t hear your own startled scream over the sound of the party popper being launched in your face, but you did see Gogol’s face, grinning, laughing, as you fell back on the ground with a hard thump to your ass. 

“Trick!” He said. He looked down on you, eyes appraising, and then the door slammed quickly shut. 

As you gathered yourself up, hand hanging limply onto the candy bag, you thought: only two more doors. Only two more doors and tonight can be over.  But it didn’t reassure you, because there was no way to be reassured when you were in Gogol’s control. All it did was keep you from collapsing, mentally and physically, before the night was finished.

Your fingers trembled when you knocked on the fourth door. 

“Trick or treat.” Your voice was louder, but shook, all the same.

The door creaked open on its own into the darkness, which was the first sign, really, that it was going to be something awful. 

Another corpse, put on display? Maybe this time it would be someone you cared about. A police detective who reassured you that they would catch your stalker or your best friend from elementary school whose picture was in one of your photo albums or your childhood crush, all grown up and rotted. 

But when a light switch somewhere in the room was pressed on and the space was flooded with bright lights from the overhead fixtures, it was not a corpse displayed plainly or artistically or horrifically. 

It was not a corpse at all.

It was your boyfriend, handcuffed to a chair in the center of the room, a duct-tape gag slapped over his mouth.  Like something out of a horror movie.

It took him a few moments to recognize you, but when he did, his eyes widened and he began to speak muffled words from behind his gag. Begging you for help. Telling you to stay away. You couldn’t tell, but it didn’t matter, because every instinct in your body was telling you to run to him.

Stupid body, of course, but you couldn’t help yourself, despite knowing it was a stupid move. You rushed forward, heart pumping, tossing the bag of candy to the ground as you fumbled with the handcuffs around your boyfriend’s wrists and ankles.

“Don’t worry,” you said, words full of sweet reassurance that you had no right to give. “It’ll be okay. I’ll get you out of here. I love you, I missed you,” and your voice cracked on those last words. You never thought you’d see him again--alive. 

And then the door slammed shut behind you.

“Trick,” murmured Gogol, who was now standing in front of the closed door. Though only for a moment, because he flashed a grin and began to approach you almost comically slow. Step, step, step. Taking his sweet time so he could savor the moment and terrify you even further, no doubt.

“Please don’t,” you said--stupidly, like everything you’d just told your boyfriend. You had no right to beg Nikolai Gogol when you knew it was fruitless. But you did it anyway, because you were in love, because you were scared, because you wanted to save him. “Please, please, Nikolai--”

By the time you were begging him silly, Gogol was standing in front of you, hands on his hips. He pouted and looked cross. “No, no, no, you don’t beg for him. That’s not how this should go.” 

He sighed and brushed past you, forcing you to step to the side while he stood in front of your bound boyfriend. He casually reached out and ripped the tape from your boyfriend’s mouth.

“You beg her,” he said, addressing your boyfriend. The space around his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Go on.”

Your jaw began to tremble when your boyfriend slowly turned his head towards you--and then  you saw his own jaw trembling before he began to speak, words almost slurred, helpless, horrified. He’d never come up against such things before.

“Please help me,” he said, eyes wide, mouth red and raw from the tape. His cheeks were glossy with tears. “Please help me get… get out of this,” he continued. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell with his increasingly frantic breathing.

In front of him, Gogol sighed. Impatient. Annoyed.

“No, no, no,” he said, and the teasing drawl that crept in his words had your arms prickled with gooseflesh. “You shouldn’t beg her to help you. You need to beg her… not to kill you.”

The words came from your lips and the lips of your captive boyfriend at the same time: “What?”

 Gogol didn’t bother looking at your boyfriend anymore. He turned to you, giggling, voice choking with laughter as he repeated his awful words.

“He’s going to beg you not to kill him! Isn’t that fun?”

You knew better than to argue, to insult, to fight. But this was 

“I would never hurt him. Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. You’re sick.” 

Bells jingled--yours and his--when he leaned forward and grabbed the silky top of your jester costume and pulled you close to him.

“I’m not.” He murmured softly in your ear, smiling against it. “I’m really not.” 

He grasped one of your hands and slowly peeled back your fingers. An odd gesture. But then he reached into his pocket and put something in the flat of your palm. You didn’t realize what it was at first, because it was such an impossible thing to see there. And yet there it was, in your grasp:

A knife. A big long kitchen knife. 

There’s some primal part of your brain that shrieked--STAB THE BASTARD--but you weren’t fast enough for it. You heard the noise and felt the pull and before you could do anything, you saw a whirlpool forming behind your boyfriend.

You didn’t know what it meant, until you felt Nikolai grab your arm and saw a matching whirling portal in front of you then oh, God in heaven, you did know--

“No--” 

Your arm went through the portal, static and tingling. Gogol reached behind your boyfriend and grasped your fingers, keeping them wrapped around the knife as your arm hung out of the second portal.

The worst part wasn’t the realization of what was happening. 

It wasn’t the way that your boyfriend made some vague, confused sounds. Questions, all tinged with fear and the sound of him desperately trying to break the cuffs keeping him to the chair.

No. The worst part was the way that you couldn’t take your eyes off Nikolai Gogol, all painted up for Halloween, smiling at you with pure glee. 

“Ready for the trick?” He asked, voice lilting. 

You shook your head slowly. It felt like you were moving through something sticky and heavy, like syrup.

“Too bad!” His grin flashed white, practically stretching across his face, as he gripped your hand and moved his own, forcing your hand to bring the knife down into the soft flesh of your boyfriend’s side.

You felt it.  You felt the way the knife sunk into his flesh, like stabbing a thick cut of meat or a hard melon. But there was a softness to it. A wet sound.

And the noise--the noise your boyfriend made. It wasn’t the noise a person would make. It was an animal sound, a cry that forced its way out of his throat without a care.

Your free arm gripped at the shoulder of your captive one, tugging and tugging. You knew it wouldn’t budge, but at least if you tried, you could take some of the blame away. You could pretend that it wasn’t your fault that he was here. That he was tied up. That he was being stabbed to death with a knife.

The bells on Nikolai’s sleeve rang when he tugged against your wrist, pulling the knife and your captive fist away. Blood oozed from the wound, staining against the light color of your boyfriend’s shirt. Nikolai cooed appreciatively. You felt the world spin.

And then he brought your hand down again, this time into his stomach. This time, your boyfriend squealed--like a hog, you thought, and you hated yourself for it--as your captor forced you to pull the knife upwards, dragging against something that kept tugging against the knife. Organs or intestines, maybe. 

The wound bled more than the first. You found yourself staring at the blood, at the flesh you could see through his cut shirt, split open, almost flapping. 

“Please…”

Oh. Oh no.

Your boyfriend bubbled out the words from his sobbing lips. Each one stung you like a hornet.

Behind him, Gogol giggled.

“Please don’t kill me.” He said your name, then, he said your name and looked at you and begged you not to end his life.

“I--I’m sorry,” you mumbled. You wished he wasn’t here. You wanted him back home in his bed, fuck, you wouldn’t even care if he got over you and was dating someone else. You didn’t want him here, mixed up in all this, watching you in horror as he was stabbed by your own hand.  You swallowed hard against the awful tightness in your throat. 

Gogol’s hand moved your own until the knife was at your boyfriend’s throat. He dragged it lightly across, and a thin rivulet of blood dripped down from the blade. 

Your boyfriend hung his head low, though all it did was press the blade deeper into his skin. “Then stop fucking hurting me! Please…”  

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, voice choked. 

Didn’t your boyfriend understand? You didn’t have a fucking choice. 

Which is why you could do nothing as Nikolai gripped your fingers and brought the knife down with a renewed flourish into your boyfriend’s shoulder. His side. His back. 

Again.

And again.

And again.

And again, until his shirt was soaked with blood and his cries were feeble and wheezing. No more pleas for mercy. No more begging. Just awful grunting sounds, whining, the sounds an animal makes when they are at the end of their life. 

Gogol snapped the fingers of his other hand and you dully looked up at him. 

“Mmm, this is getting a bit repetitive, don’t you think, kukol'nyy?”

You didn’t respond. If you opened your mouth, you thought, you might just projectile vomit all over the scene. You didn’t want to throw up on your boyfriend, you thought, stupidly. That would be mean. 

If Gogol minded  your silence, he said nothing. Instead he hummed and pivoted your wrist just above your boyfriend’s face. His weakened, weeping eyes suddenly went wide. The pupils were like blown glass.

“I love you,” you said, pitifully. You hoped he didn’t hear you, because he didn’t say a thing. It was better to think he didn’t hear you anymore, but could only focus on his own agony. Better than that the thought that he heard you and didn’t care, that he hated you, that he blamed you for all this.

And then the knife plunged directly into his eye socket. And then further, into his head. Into his skull. Into his brain. He made a sound, surely he did--but maybe it came from your own mouth and his jaw only hung slack and silent. A guttural cry, the end of a life.

The knife stuck when Gogol tried to pull it out, so he had to yank your hand back with some force. Your boyfriend’s eyeball was stuck to the tip of the blade. Visceral gore stuck behind it. Bits of brain, perhaps, if you were to get technical.

Gogol released your fingers, which had long since begun to throb and ache, and you dropped the knife on the ground. The portals disappeared and your arm was back to yourself, muscles aching from the fervent exercise required to brutally stab someone to death.

You fell to the ground and had the presence of mind to whirl around and fling open the door, so that when  you fell to your knees and opened your mouth to cry, the vomit that came flying out was in the hallway and not in front of your boyfriend’s brutalized corpse. 

When nothing but bile came up, the sobs were finally given time to shine. Ugly things that wracked your chest and pushed snot and remnants of vomit bubbling out your nose. 

Eventually, the door opened, and Gogol’s footsteps came to rest beside you. He pushed at your side with his foot. You thought about the knife going into your boyfriend. 

“Don’t be lazy,” he teased, as if he didn’t just force you to commit murder. “Only one more door! It’s almost midnight!” Something dropped next to you and it took you a few moments to look and see what it was: the bag of candy.

Ah. Trick or treating. You had to finish it, didn’t you?  You… didn’t have a choice.

And so you forced your leaden body upwards, sidestepping your own throw-up, to get to the final door.

Your arm that was finally your own again reached up to knock on the door, and you had to pause. Your hand was covered in blood. Dried, globby. Sticky. 

You knocked anyway. 

“Trick or treat,” you said hoarsely. You could still taste vomit in your teeth. 

The door opened slowly, but you realized that you no longer had the ability to worry about what was inside. It couldn’t be worse than what you just went through, so it didn’t matter.

But there were no corpses or tied up loved-ones. Only Gogol, who smiled sweetly at you, and grabbed the belled collar at your neck to pull you close to him. You jingled with the motion. 

“Treat!” 

He kissed you, pressing his mouth against yours, moaning at whatever taste he found there. Perhaps bits of blood that had spattered onto your lips overrode the acidity of vomit in your mouth.

He tasted like candy, chocolate and sour gummy worms. He must have been popping them all night. 

When he pulled away, you noticed the matching spatters of blood on his cheek. What a pair you made--two jesters covered in the blood of your loved one. Sour candy and horror-borne vomit.

“Happy Halloween, my kukol'nyy,” he whispered, before pressing a smooch to your nose. 

#yandere nikolai gogol #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bsd #yandere gogol #yandere #afterwitch writes #aw horrorfest #my foot hurts so there's violence. that's how this works apparently.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE *  assorted (and slightly adapted to suit this meme format) dialogue from the book by casey mcquiston, adjust as necessary

on purpose. i love him on purpose.

i've always thought of myself as a problem that deserved to stay hidden.

i'm going to have you offed. you'll never see it coming.

take anything you want and know you deserve to have it.

get in there.

you're literally putting your dick in the leader of a foreign state.

before you, i was all right letting everything happen to me.

i can't believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are.

sorry, are we not? did i skip ahead again?

you've been warned.

he died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock.

my life is a cosmic joke and you're not a real person.

hey, have i told you lately that you're brave?

i honestly have never thought i deserved to choose.

we're gonna make it work. you and me and history, remember?

if you finish that sentence, i'm gonna spend tonight in jail.

but the truth is, also, simply this: love is indomitable.

i actively wish for the sweet release of death.

yes, good, carry on.

i won't hear a word against it.

we're gonna do it together.

i said you look great, baby!

i meet you in every dream, and when i wake i cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness.

i'm so in love i could die.

you can take your legacy and your decorum and you can shove it up your fucking arse.

i wonder if it's too late to swan dive off the roof.

i'm learning all your hidden depths today, sweetheart.

you must invent an entirely new system.

a curious thing about grief is the way it takes your entire life, all those foundational years that made you who you are, and makes them so painful to look back on.

he's proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is.

i've bloody well had it!

we can unpack the ironic symbolism later.

that's beyond our sense of decorum!

i'm not afraid of anything i feel. i'm afraid of saying it. i'm only afraid of what happens when i do.

aw, you do care.

if there's any legacy for me on this earth, i want it to be true.

straight people probably don't spend this much time convincing themselves that they're straight.

the moment you first called me a prick, my fate was sealed.

you are the absolute worst idea i've ever had.

should i tell you that when we're apart, your body comes back to me in dreams?

can you perhaps stop putting your sodding life in danger now?

what are we even defending here?

history will remember us.

when i sleep, i see you.

i hate this so much.

every person who bears a legacy makes the choice of a partner with whom they will share it with.

we're just gonna fucking fight.

he is my choice.

i can appreciate that maybe this isn't your fault.

i've been gay as a maypole since the day i came out of mom.

when i wake up in the morning, it feels like i've just been with you.

i can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache.

your spine's a ridge i'd die climbing.

for a few moments, i can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all.

the phrase 'see attached bibliography' is the single sexiest thing you have ever written me.

i promise you, one day we'll be able to just be, and fuck everyone else.

give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you.

i want to set myself on fire, but i can't afford for anyone to see me burn.

you see, for me, memories are difficult.

never tell me the odds.

i wish there weren't a wall.

jesus christ, it's like they can see into your soul.

you're it, okay? i'm never gonna love anybody in the world like i love you.

i'm finished. i don't care.

god, i want to fight everyone who's ever hurt you.

the whole world watched, and history remembered.

are you quite finished?

just so we're clear. i'm about to have sex with you in this storage closet to spite your family.

you insane, hopeless romantic little shit.

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompt #rp starters #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #writing prompt #askbox meme #rp asks #inbox prompts #inbox prompt #rp inbox meme #inbox meme #sentence starter #sentence starters #sentence starter prompt #mcflymemes #red white and royal blue #rwarb #book prompts

[reesespeanutbutterfuck]

imperfectionist (vinny hong x jo!reader)

jay jo's imperfectionist sister meets the flawful vinny hong.

part 7

part 6 | part 8

part warnings: fem!reader, jo!reader (jay is reader's 1 year older brother, but they're in the same class), second person's pov (you, you're, your), wb main story SPOILERS

—

Why was he shocked? He already saw you in your school uniform when he took you to the hospital.

“Sorry, Principal. I can come back later if you're busy–”

“It's alright, [Y/N]. I'll have you as a witness for your friends' proposal.” He motioned you to stand beside him. Albeit confused, you obliged while still carrying the papers and brown envelopes. 

Friends, huh.

Not so sure about that.

You casually eyed them one by one. Even noticing Minu's stupid-looking, over-gelled hair. But averting your gaze once you felt a certain red-hair's stare. He stared you down and you can feel his fixation on you, yet you were determined to keep your nonchalance affront.

You surely weren't needed here, so why did the Principal make you stay? While their attention were elsewhere—well, except for Vinny, who still has his two-toned eyes following you, you were finally about to escape the Principal but when you tried to sneakily walk past them, Shelly took your arm and quietly tucked you beside her while listening to her Granddad. Yes, the Principal. Shelly's Granddad. One person. The principal is Shelly's granddad.

After what seems to be a proposal to skip school to compete in the tournament, the Principal guided you out of the office, letting you go before classes started. You thought it was over, not until Mr. Nam, who accompanied you outside, called your name from the door, so you expectantly waited for what he had to say, 

“The red boy isn't from here, would you mind escorting him off the campus? You’re Vice of the student body after all.”

Agh. What is he, a preschooler?

You glanced at Vinny, who just came out of the door, for a split second. “No. Not at all.”

Vinny stopped in his tracks when you faced him, now he was blankly staring at you.

“Follow me.” you composed yourself and led him to the exit.

You can hear students’ chatters and whispers but you chose to voluntarily not pay them any mind. You were watching his reflection on the window panes of the classrooms from your peripheral vision, so you didn’t have to look behind to see if he was following you. You remained civil, and as much as Vinny hates to admit, he’s annoyed by the way you’re pretending you don’t know him after everything you said and did in your past encounters. Sure he hated talking, like he always did, it’s not like he wants you to converse with him. 

But somehow in this third encounter, why did he perhaps expect… more?

You can’t talk to him, yet. You shouldn’t. At least not in front of your schoolmates and especially not in front of Jay and the others. Acting like you know him will only spark more rumors and suspicions. Once again you can feel his stares right behind you as you wordlessly guided him towards the gate. What he didn't know is that your mouth was itching to open and talk, but not now. At least not while the guards were looking at you, they know your mother. you’ll be dead.

When you reached the gate you stopped just before the gate and asked if he needed more directions to go where he’s headed to, but he insisted he knew where he’s going. You were about to leave but his hand reached forward. Handing you something. You wondered what it was for a moment until you saw the object. The tomato charm you gave him.

You eyed the charm on his palm and looked back to his face. “What do you want me to do with that?”

“You might want it back.”

“Who do you take me for? Give and take?” You frowned. “Bring my glasses next time.” and then you turned your back on him. 

Once again, Vinny’s brows slightly furrowed in annoyance. But then he finally confirms that you do remember him. You just act like you don’t.

What the hell just happened? What do you mean? Since he met you, all you ever did was to make his head hurt. He only watched you from afar for less than a second, before he turned his back shortly.

Not worth it, he thinks.

You parted ways like strangers.

___

Like you already said before, you and Jay don't always go home together after class, it's always taken you to go separate ways after school as a norm unless you both agree you'd go home together beforehand. After the subject bedel announced your professor’s absence, his whole class period became your class vacant. 

You loomed over Jay's desk. “Got any snacks?” 

He slid a wasabi lollipop while not even panning to you, eyes glued to his textbook, choosing to spend his vacant time studying. 

“Why aren’t you studying?”

“I’ve already read everything last night. I'm getting dizzy seeing words on a textbook.” You reached for the lollipop and opened the wrapper before putting it in your mouth and slumpily sitting beside him. 

Some of your classmates were a little taken aback because you barely sit beside Jay in classrooms. That was because you were having enough of seeing Jay’s face. From your house, to the student council hq’s, to the classroom, you’d see him. You were getting tired of seeing him everywhere. But it’s different now that you don’t see him at home because you don’t live there anymore, and you don’t see him at the council hq’s too now because he isn’t the President anymore. 

“Got yelled at by mom and dad last night?” You asked him.

“...Yeah.”

“Sucks.” 

“Has your flu gone down?” Right. You didn't tell anyone the truth. The only ones who knew were Suki and well… Vinny.

"Yeah. I did a lot to feel better sooner. Anyway, thanks for lending me your glasses.” you moved his eyeglasses that you borrowed up and down over your nose bridge. 

The eyeglasses you were currently wearing were Jay's. They were his backup ones. Only the morning after the stabbing incident you realized you've lost your glasses. And then you remembered the nurses gave Vinny your belongings before your back was stitched up. But you promised to give Jay's glasses back after you retrieve yours from Vinny.

“How's your new member holding up? Any problems?” You shift your body to face him while biting your lollipop's stick.

Jay eyed you. “What? Oh, you mean Vinny? He's… fine. I guess.” 

Must be still warming up. He’ll get used to it. You glanced out the window. The sky was already turning orange. Dom’s loud mouth echoes all the way from the back of the classroom blathering something about Hummingbird’s next cycling practice made you remember something.

“Say, can I come watch your next practice? There's also Yuna and Mia, right? Would another bystander distract you?” 

“Yeah. You can come. No rules were made saying non-members shouldn't be in practices.” Jay replied. You were thankful at how he didn’t ask why you wanted to come. The real reason was to retrieve your glasses from Vinny.

Shelly called your name while closing Jay’s table. You were getting used to her ditzyness. “My sister-in-law, are you close with Vinny? He looks cool! Is his hair color natural?”

Why does everyone here think we’re close?

“Don't know. Don't care.” you faced Jay's desk to steal all his wasabi lollipops while he's not looking. You stood up with a jacket filled with lollipops and let Shelly take the seat beside Jay.

___

You passed your fake medical certificate to your professor for your absence. You were waiting for your excuse letter to be signed before going home, when the new phone you bought beeped.

Unknown Contact: hiya, is this [Y/N]? ;)

[Y/N]: who's this?

Unknown Contact: vinny ;)

You gaped your mouth. Vinny? That Vinny?

[Y/N]: wrong number

After sending a lot of keyboard smashes, his messages suddenly halted. You thought he was done until you received another.

Unknown Contact: that was not me fuck

Unknown Contact: i swear that wasn’t me

You chose not to point it out in your reply.

[Y/N]: my glasses

After reminding him, the professor handed you back the excuse letter. You thanked him and exited the room. You wonder where Vinny got your number, especially with the fact that after losing your phone when you were stabbed, you changed phones and SIM cards.

You smirked triumphantly for a split-second and put your phone inside your pocket.

***

sorry for the slow ud's !!!! academic responsibilities always get in the way D:

anw, a gift for you

© to whoever edited this gem

#vinny hong #vinny hong x reader #jay jo x reader #jay jo #windbreaker

[whumblr]

Meet the warden

Crossed out - Continued from ch.1 - Prologue

-

A bleak and barren interrogation room. Way to break out the clichés.

Lucas glanced around, even though there wasn’t much to look at, except himself, staring back from the two-way mirror. The only part of the room that showed that there was at least some form of advanced technology in this bleak place.

The figure staring back at him wasn’t much to look at either. While he could certainly feel the dried blood caking to his face, could feel the bruise under his eye every time he blinked, seeing his own reflection in black and blue completed the full picture. The bump on his forehead could barely be covered by some strands of black hair and was probably the cause of his massive pounding headache. The fatigue was plain to see on his face, in his eyes. And, unfortunately, didn’t overshadow the hint of resigned fear. All combined, bit of a sad look there, and he looked away.

His throat was parched and he could only hope that he was going to get a cup of water without having to give up anything in return.

But given his treatment when they’d dragged him in, sitting him down here for – what – at least an hour now without the slightest concern for his injuries, he didn’t really feel luck was on his side for that one.

Just when he thought he might as well catch some shuteye and crossed his arms to slide down on his chair, the door opened and rudely interrupted any plans of rest.

Lucas glared up, did a small double take as his eyes had to adjust a few inches higher than he’d anticipated to meet the eyes of the man filling the doorway, and his eyes widened as he recognised who it was.

Heavy footsteps of combat boots echoed against the concrete box as the man slowly entered the room, closed the door. His long black coat had been replaced by – or had just concealed – a simple white dress shirt, tucked into black slacks. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, accenting his toned forearms. Sharp grey eyes roamed over the bruises on Lucas’ face.

It was the man who had slammed his head into the floor and had arres— fucking dragged him to this place.

Lucas nearly snarled and looked up at the man, who stopped at the opposite side of the table. Now that he was standing directly in front of him, the man was even taller than he’d thought. Perhaps also because of how he carried himself; he stood straight as an arrow, hands behind his back, practically looming over Lucas.

Annoyance flared in Lucas’ eyes. “You didn’t have to go to the trouble to actually come all the way here to interrogate me, you know.”

The man’s lips twitched, trying to hide a smile. He pulled the chair back and sat down across. “Don’t be silly,” he said, voice deep and laced with authority, and he looked Lucas straight in the eye. “I am the warden here.”

Lucas fought the impulse to close his eyes and take a sigh, but the man took in every small twitch of body language and nothing escaped him.

“Yes,” he agreed, his eyes didn’t leave Lucas’. “You are fucked.” He folded his fingers and let his hands rest in front of him on the table.

Lucas unconsciously leaned back on his chair, as if he could gain a few inches away from the man. The warden… So he wasn’t at a police station; they’d skipped ahead a few steps and brought him straight to prison. This man’s prison. The prison he’d been looking into. What an awful coincidence. Yeah, right.

The warden slid a folder onto the table and opened it, taking his time reading through it like he had all the time in the world and all the information was new to him.

“Lucas Rafael Varga,” he read from the first page, emphasizing each word.

Lucas scoffed mentally. As if the man didn’t know his name yet. This was just a means to show what they had on him. He glanced at the little metal tag left of the man’s chest pinned to his white button-up. N Mathison was punched in it in old-fashioned block capitals. “Warden Mathison,” he responded as if in a belated greeting.

Mathison didn’t look up but his lips twitched, not enough to form a smile. He merely nodded in response.

Lucas took the time to take him in. The man was probably a bit older than him, forties maybe. Though the lines on his face could be making him look older than he actually was… He had a weathered look about him, going by his manner and posture (not to mention his physique) possibly gained from a combat role. Military? His hair only reinforced the assumption; an undercut with longer black strands of hair tinged with grey combed back, medium fading to a full grey at his temples.

Grey eyes suddenly shot up from the file and Lucas startled.

“I thought you were leading the pack of wolves?” he grumbled, trying to deflect.

“No, no. I only joined the search for you.” Mathison pushed the file an inch away and leaned forward, noticing Lucas’ discomfort. “After all, it was best to keep you out of trouble. Someone has to protect you from yourself.” The one corner of his lips turned up in a devious smirk.

“You make it a sport to hunt down civilians?”

“Depends on the catch. I do when they are looking into my business.”

So this probably was the man Lucas had been looking for. “Your business being covering up the murder of one of your inmates.”

The warden wasn’t baited and gave an almost exasperated shrug. “That’s what you are hoping to find. I think in time you’ll find yourself reassessing your theories.”

“That man was my client. At the time of his death, he shouldn’t even have been here! I got his sentence reduced to five years, and that was eight years ago.”

That did draw out a reaction. Mathison’s expression twisted, but not in shock or surprise. It was almost in disgust. A mere twitch of the one eye, a crinkle of his nose, barely visible and quickly covered again. Mathison responded calmly: “There are many factors that can add to a man’s sentence.”

Lucas reared up to argue, but thought against it and sagged in his seat. There were many factors why they’d go this far trying to stop him from looking into the matters too deeply. But he wasn’t going to get much out of this. Not now. So he switched to another argument. “You can’t keep me here. No trial, no legal base, it’s unlawful.”

It was unceremoniously slammed down. “You’ll find I don’t care.”

“So this is nothing more than a kidnapping.”

Mathison smiled wryly at that. “A kidnapping doesn’t happen in broad daylight, in public. An arrest, however…”

“An arrest,” Lucas scoffed.

“You were caught up with a client, aiding and abetting. Things escalated beyond your control. Bonus, you resisted arrest.” He nodded at the bump on Lucas’ forehead.

“What? That’s why I’m here?”

“That’s the story why you’re here.”

Lucas stared at the man in disbelief and reality fell into his stomach like a lead weight. It’s not like he had expected anything that would ensure his release that very day. He had hoped Ava could help bail him out; they’d delay things just because they could and to send a message, but ultimately they’d have to send him on his way, all this being nothing more than a warning. But it slowly dawned on him now that this was serious. That this was, literally, for the long haul. And unlike him, they had been preparing for it.

The only thing he had going for him, the tiny bright light that was currently being smothered by dark helplessness, was the fact that no one was going to believe this. Or, well, at least Ava wasn’t…

“After all, if this had been just a simple mistake,” Mathison said in a sweet voice that didn’t match his expression, “you would have simply gone along quietly. Talked your way out, threatened consequences. No. You knew we were coming. And you chose to fight because there was no other option.”

“You can’t do this,” Lucas said, but the certainty of his tone melted away by the warden’s casual confidence at breaking the law and his own voice suddenly sounded too shaky to his ears. “You can’t keep me here isolated from everything and everyone. People will ask questions, they will come for me.”

“They won’t. You’re too ashamed of your actions and refuse to meet with anyone. The trial is in a few weeks and after that everything’s done and dealt with.”

“What about my lawyer.”

“You’re a defence lawyer. You represent yourself.”

Lucas gaped at that. “I will not,” he said, too invested in this fake ass trial.

Mathison finally gave a genuine smile to that, one that wasn’t laced with a condescending cruelty. He took something from Lucas’ file and slid the paper over the table. “Your letter of representation. For your sake, I suggest you sign this now.”

Lucas glanced almost in disgust at the paper. “I will not,” he said again. “You cannot keep me locked in here forever.”

“Doesn’t need to be forever. You know very well how long proceedings can take. And then I’m saying without the delays. Just in a few months… a lot can change.”

…Like me not existing anymore.

“It’d be in your best interest to sign that paper,” the warden continued.

Lucas couldn’t hold back a humourless laugh. “What’re you gonna do? Arrest me? Put me in prison? Hm?”

Mathison just pushed his chair back and walked back to the door, signalling with a single knock that this conversation was over. “You’ll see.”

-

Continued here

Still unnamed prison whump tag list: @gala1981 @chaotic-orphan @lolrpop

#quote from man chucked in prison: #what are you gonna do put me in prison?! #whump #whump writing #prison whump #angst #emotional whump #an-ti-ci-pationnn #captured #stoic whumper #my writing #crossed out

[claymoresword]

I Choose Her | Chp: 10

Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader

Summary: You are the daughter of known death eaters from one of the richest and oldest wizarding family. Are you prepared to abandon everything you know for Hermione Granger?

Pairing: hermione x reader

Wordcount: 4.6k

Warnings: angst, mentions of abuse, smut, nsfw, top!reader, strap on use, g!p (kind of)

Note: right off the bat im just gonna warn u the smut in this one is kinda filthy ??? admittedly i got a little carried away im sorry

but same as last time i added asterisks before it so feel free to skip it if u want!

once again i just want to thank u guys for all the kind words and love shown on this story so far. i love reading your thoughts, it's actually one of the best parts of sharing my writing :) so yeah don't hesistate to comment if u want to! i read them all

alright that's it! i hope u enjoy this one <3

taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @coralieesau @blackbirdv98

It’s been a little over a day since you left your parents home with no word. You could only hope Draco was covering for you like he promised. Although no death eater has stormed the burrow looking for you yet, you took that as a good sign.

You glanced at your watch, you had been waiting for Hermione for about half an hour now. Being ready in fifteen minutes seemingly gave you no real advantage as you’ve been stuck waiting in the living room with Harry.

“Have you found out where he’s hidden the other hocruxes?” Harry blurts out, after moving to stand next to you.

“What?”

You asked, but the truth is you heard him the first time. What bothered you was his insistence on having this conversation now.

Harry doesn’t repeat himself, merely raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“No, I haven’t.”

Harry rolls his eyes and you grow increasingly irritated.

“I've only been at it for three days mate, will you relax?”

“We are running out of time.”

You don’t care for his tone. If he wanted to work together he’d have to start addressing you a lot nicer than that.

“You don’t think I know that?” You spat, stepping closer to him.

Fred shoots you a look from across the room and you quickly realise other people were witnessing your squabble.

Feigning a warm smile in return, your hands moved to Harry’s tie, you began fixing it for him.

His poor attempt at a Windsor had been bothering you all evening

“Look, I have an idea of where they might be but I need to be certain. Give me a few more days.” You whisper, hands moving to his collar straightening it up.

Harry only nods but doesn’t break your gaze.

Just like that, there was no trace of hostility between the two of you. Harry’s short temper was a direct result of his fear, you could see that now.

“Thanks.” Harry says sincerely and you appreciated it. Perhaps you have been too harsh on him yourself.

“7 years at Hogwarts Potter and you never properly learned how to tie a tie?” You quipped.

Harry lets out a huff in amusement but he wasn’t given the opportunity to respond.

“Were the two of you about to kiss?”

Ginny remarks as she walks in, standing next to Harry. He wraps his arm around her waist.

You scoffed.

“Yes actually you’ve interrupted a very intimate moment.”

You mostly joke but the fact is that was the nicest interaction you’ve had with Harry since knowing him.

Ginny says something in response but you’ve stopped listening due to the sight before you.

You watched as Hermione came down the stairs, looking more elegant than you’ve ever seen her.

Your mouth fell agape, you didn’t think it’d be humanly possible for anybody to look this stunning.

Your girlfriend notices your expression and grows self conscious under your gaze, she looks away shyly.

Stepping forward you quickly held the side of her face, pulling her in for a kiss.

You continued to take in her appearance after your lips left hers. Not attempting to conceal your awe.

“Alright, stop that. You’ve seen me wear this dress before.” Hermione says, placing her hand against your chest.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I truly am the luckiest girl in the world.” You whisper earning a real smile from Hermione.

The blush creeping up to her face only urges you to capture her lips into another kiss.

“Look at that–” Ginny shakes her head disapprovingly.

“Hermione enters the room and all of a sudden we’re invincible.”

“Anyway, we need to get going. We’re late.”

She says aloud but you make no effort to acknowledge her.

Instead you move to plant a kiss against Hermione’s jaw. You hear her giggle before she speaks.

“Come we’re late, let’s go.” Your girlfriend says intertwining your hands.

You oblige, letting her guide you to the front door.

“Unbelievable.” Ginny scoffs.

“Are were sure Hermione didn’t enchant her? I’ve never seen anyone behave like that unless they were under a love potion.”

“No it can’t be, love potions wear off.” Harry answers and you roll your eyes.

They can’t be serious.

════════════════════════════════════════════

Standing next to Hermione you watched as the bride and groom entered the tent. Everyone making their way to congratulate the newlyweds. In this moment they seemed immeasurably happy and it makes your chest hurt.

Considering everything going on in the world right now true happiness was difficult to come by. Everyone seems to be clinging onto any semblance of it they have at an attempt to remain sane.

You feel Hermione hold your arm tighter, almost like she read your mind. Bringing her palm up to your lips you placed a tender kiss against it.

You held her hand in yours as you slowly guided her to the dance floor.

Releasing it you stepped away from her before you spoke.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” You asked, holding out your hand dramatically.

Your heart flutters at the sight of Hermione laughing as she takes your hand.

“Yes, you may.”

Your hand finds her waist and for awhile the two of your slow danced in comfortable silence.

The sound of Hermione sighing ends your moment of bliss.

“What is it?” You ask and Hermione lifts her head off your shoulder to look at you.

She then shifts her gaze and you take it as a sign to look over your shoulder.

You find Ron standing a few feet away, a drink in his hand. He looked miserable.

If you didn’t know any better you’d be annoyed. Hermione had shot him down years ago and yet he still couldn’t let her go.

You leaned in to whisper into Hermione’s ear.

“I thought he was with Lavender?”

Your girlfriend shakes her head before speaking.

“No, they broke up.”

“Again?”

She was a little intense but you thought they worked together, somehow.

“I hate seeing him like that. I feel terrible knowing I can never like him back the way he wants me to.”

Hermione has never shared this with you before. Although, it made a lot of sense.

Ron had been her friend since first year and they practically grew up together.

“I understand. Though that sounds like something he has to navigate on his own. You’ve told him the truth about your feelings. I don’t think there’s anything else you can do.”

“I know, it’s just unfair.” Your girlfriend rests her head against your shoulder again.

After a long silence, you speak.

“If you want, I have somebody I can set him up with. After all of this is over.”

Hermione raises her eyebrows in shock and you can’t deny how much you’ve also surprised yourself.

“Really? You’d do that?”

“Ofcourse, I don’t want him to be miserable. I mean I’m not totally devoid of empathy.”

Hermione reaches up to run her fingers through your hair, her longing gaze made your knees weak.

“Thank you.” She leans in to kiss you but you are interrupted by a noise in the distance.

A blue light suddenly appearing inside the tent, the both of you walk closer to get a better look.

A voice emerges from it that sends a chill down your spine.

“The ministry has fallen. The Minister of Magic is dead.”

“They are coming.”

The last message echoes and you feel a searing pain in your arm.

The dark mark suddenly pulsing uncontrollably, you winced in pain.

Hermione quickly notices.

“Y/n, what is it? what’s wrong?”

A loud crash in the distance prevents you from answering.

Another crash followed by screams and the both of you quickly realise what was happening.

“Hermione!” Ron rushes over, attempting to pull her away but she doesn’t budge.

Pleading with her eyes, your own were quick to well up with tears.

“I can’t come with you–” You attempt to pry her hand off you.

“Go. I’ll find you. I promise.”

Your girlfriend hesitates and another scream makes her flinch.

“Hermione, please. Go.”

You watched as Harry grabbed her other hand, the three of them dissaparating.

════════════════════════════════════════════

You waited a few hours longer than intended to return home. That feeling of dread in your gut only festered the longer you procrastinated.

You decided to just rip off the band aid.

Stepping through the front door, as expected, you are greeted with a slap across the face.

Holding your face that is now stinging you meet your mother’s gaze.

She is fuming.

“Where the devil have you been!”

“I left to get some air–”

“For two days?” She raises her voice.

“I’m sorry mother I should have asked you first.”

“Yes, you should have.” She steps closer, your back now pushed up against the door.

“When are you going to start taking this seriously?”

“You are a death eater.” Your mother pokes your chest to the point of pain.

“Your only job is to serve.”

“If the Dark Lord finds out you have other commitments he will kill you. Do you understand that?”

You kept your gaze fixed to the ground as you nodded.

The look she’s giving you is deadly and not something you’ve ever gotten used to.

Your mother reaches out and you flinch for a moment before feeling her light touch against your cheek. With her thumb she stroked gently at the same spot she had hit you just moments ago.

“Come. He is waiting.” Placing her hand on your back she guides you to the living area.

As you entered the dining hall, you took note of the heaviness in the air. A darkness that caused you to feel deeply unsettled.

Numerous death eaters were sat at the dining table. Catching Narcissa’s gaze she smiles at you kindly and you reciprocated. Her innate tenderness was a rather chilling contrast to the vibe in the room.

Every seat had been filled except for the one next to Voldemort.

The Dark Lord flashes you a grin and his is one that causes the hair on the back of your neck to stand.

“Ah, y/n our new recruit. So glad you could join us today. Come.”

He beckons you over. Walking closer he quickly gestures to the seat next to him.

“Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you, My Lord.” You barely manage to choke out, your stomach turning.

Glancing at the ground you watched as a large anaconda slithered underneath the table.

That thing could easily kill a fully grown human if it wanted to.

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Now where is Dolohov? He should have been back with the boy hours ago.”

A beat passes where nobody answers and Voldermort slams his fist against the table causing everyone to flinch.

“My Lord, we found Dolohov in muggle London with his memory wiped. I am afraid the boy got away.”

“So what I’ve come to understand is that I sent my best death eaters to retrieve him and not one of you succeeded?”

Voldemort abruptly stands from his seat.

“Can anybody tell me where he is?”

Silence.

“Severus?”

It was only then you realised the Professor had been sat across from you.

“My guess is he still hiding out in London, my lord.”

Bellatrix can be heard clearing her throat before she speaks.

“I’d like to volunteer myself. I will kill the boy.”

“As much as I admire your bloodlust Bellatrix, he must be brought to me. I must be the one to kill Harry Potter.”

“Yaxley, Thorfinn find the boy. Search every inch of the city if you have to. Do not return empty handed.”

Yaxley stands to take his leave but the other death eater does not move from his seat.

“Forgive me my lord but I have just returned, if only if could be allowed some rest–”

Voldemort walks over to him without a word and the air in the room stills.

“Avada Kadavra.”

The flash of green dissipates as quickly as it appeared and you watch as Thorfinn slumps back into his seat, motionless.

The Dark Lord lowers his wand and you release the breath you were holding.

Feeling your entire body tremble, you suppressed the urge to flee.

“Would anybody else like to rest?”

More silence.

“I will go with Yaxley, My Lord” Greyback states already getting up from his seat.

“Very well.”

“Nagini, come. Dinner.”

The snake slithers out from underneath the table.

The noises of bones crunching as it devoured Thorfinn whole would be haunting your sleep for nights to come.

════════════════════════════════════════════

Three weeks since you’ve last seen Hermione. The longest you had ever been apart from her and it is starting to take a toll on you.

“Y/n– did you hear what I just said?” Draco says snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Just forget it.” Draco grumbles, going back to practicing his spells.

“You know, as hard as I try I can never cast a Patronus.”

“How’d you cast yours? What’s your happiest memory?”

Your bestfriend asks and you aren’t able to control the tears welling up in your eyes.

All of a sudden, you had your head in your hands, your entire body wracked by sobs.

“Woah– what did I do?” Draco asks frantically, taking a seat next to you.

You fail to answer and he places a hand on your back soothingly.

“It’s Hermione isn’t it.”

“I don’t understand, if you’re this miserable just go and see her again.” Draco says and you lift your head to look at him.

“I can’t, if my parents find out–”

“I already got in trouble last time.”

Draco stays silent for a moment and you accepted it to be the end of the conversation but he continues.

“You don’t have the trace on you anymore, you know you can just lie.”

“Your problem last time was not having a solid alibi. Just tell them you’re staying with Pansy for a few nights and ask her to corroborate for you.”

You found his cavalier tone amusing.

“You seem to know a lot about this Draco– speaking from experience?”

“Perhaps.” He shrugs.

“Wait do you have a secret muggle girlfriend or something?”

Draco’s face contorts in disgust and you let out a laugh.

“I just enjoy my time away. My parents– well my father, he can be a lot.”

You nodded placing a hand on his knee

“I get it.”

He pats your back in response.

“Well, are you gonna see her or what?”

“Yeah, actually I will.” Standing up, making your way over to the desk.

You had to send an owl to Pansy first.

“Thanks.”

Draco gives you a nod.

“You’re welcome.”

════════════════════════════════════════════

You apparated to the forest of dean. Skeptical at first but quickly remembered Hermione telling you about how she’d come to the forest often with her parents. It made sense why she’d pick it as a hideout.

Looking around you don’t manage to spot anybody, seemingly you were alone.

“Revelio.”

A shot in the dark.

You casted the spell hoping that Hermione or anyone would show themselves.

The veil now lifted you let out a breath of relief when you spotted a tent in the distance.

Stepping through the barrier you lift up your wand again, re casting the protective enchantment.

You begin to make your way towards the tent but you’re stopped by a figure running up towards you.

You quickly recognised to be Ron.

He points his wand, not making an effort to lower it even after realising it was you.

“Oh.”

You notice his shoulders sagged at the sight of you.

Ron, still as charming as ever.

“Good to see you too Weasley.”

“Is my girlfriend here?” You ask without referring to Hermione by name on purpose.

Its been far too long since you antagonised him.

Hermione seemed to have overheard your voice as she soon emerges from the tent.

Practically sprinting towards you, she throws herself into your arms.

If your feet hadn’t been firmly planted on the ground you definitely would’ve fallen backwards and brought her down with you.

“Hey, baby.”

Your hand stroking her back instinctively.

“I was afraid I’d ever see you again.” You hear her voice shake and you leaned back, urging her to look at you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

You reached forward, wiping away her tears as you spoke.

“Don’t disappear on me like that again, please.”

“Never again. I promise.”

Hermione leans in to place a quick kiss against your lips, your attempt to deepen it was halted by her hand on your chest.

She glances at Ron uncomfortably and you suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

He somehow always had to be there, lurking.

She grabs your arm before intertwining your fingers, guiding you closer to the tent.

“How’d you even find us.” Ron says walking ahead of you.

“That’s for Hermione and I to know and for you to find out.”

You smiled at him brazenly, making every attempt now to infuriate him. Ron rolls his eyes before turning around to make his way inside the tent without another word.

It seems you have won this round.

════════════════════════════════════════════

“Say, exactly how many spare tents do you have in that bag of yours Hermione?”

The both of you lowering your wands as soon as the corners of the tent finally stands upright like they’re supposed to.

“I brought two just in case.”

Thanks to your girlfriend’s tendency to be overly prepared, the both of you would get some privacy tonight.

“Food’s ready, guys.” Harry calls out and you made your way to sit by the fire.

You began eating your meal in silence until Ron came over to sit across from you.

“Good, you’re eating.” Ron says to Hermione and you catch her shooting daggers at him.

You copy your girlfriend’s expression but instead yours was directed at her.

“You haven’t been eating?”

Hermione focuses her attention on the food on her plate.

“Sweetheart, you can’t–” You paused.

Suddenly cautious of the fact that the boys were listening in on your conversation.

Harry notices and quickly turns to Ron, he began making aimless remarks about the food.

You may disagree on a lot but you appreciated his ability to pick up on social cues.

“Hermione I don’t want to have to worry that you aren’t taking care of yourself when I’m not around.”

“I’m sorry I left you worried but please think of yourself too.”

Hermione pursed her lips nervously.

“You’re right I’m sorry– but you have to promise me the same.”

“Whatever happens to me, you’ll look after yourself.”

You almost forgot how shrewd Hermione can be. A smirk forming across your face, you nod.

════════════════════════════════════════════

You were sat on the makeshift couch in the tent. Hermione was sitting with her back against the armrest, her legs outstretched on your lap.

You had been flipping through a book in silence before a sudden realisation washed over you.

“Hang on– did Harry have the sword with him in the chamber of secrets?” You asked.

Hermione’s eyebrows knitted together before she responded.

“Yeah. That’s how he killed the basilisk.”

“You told me once he destroyed the diary with a basilisk fang?”

Hermione nods still not following your train of thought.

“Merlin’s beard.” You gasp.

“What?”

You handed the book you were reading to Hermione, pointing at a specific line on the page.

“Dirt and rust have no effect on the blade. The sword of Gryffindor only takes it in, which makes it stronger.”

She reads aloud.

“That’s why–”

“Dumbledore left it to him in his will.” She finishes your sentence for you.

You smile broadly and Hermione reciprocates.

“We find the sword and we can destroy those hocruxes, Hermione.”

“We need to tell Harry.”

You attempt to stand up, pushing her legs off your lap but she swiftly pins you down with a hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t want to talk to Harry right now.”

**

Hermione moves to straddle you. Her core flush against your groin. Your hands move to her waist, holding her in place.

“No? What do you feel like doing instead?”

The tone of your voice matching the look Hermione is giving you.

She gives you no verbal response instead she leaned in, kissing you with unrestrained hunger.

Her tongue entering your mouth almost instantly, the heat stirring in the pit of your stomach only grows hotter when you feel Hermione grinding against your lap.

Your hands quickly finds the hem of her shirt, Hermione lifts up her arms allowing you to take it off her.

You trailed wet open mouthed kisses, starting at her jaw then her neck and eventually settling at her chest.

Wasting no time in taking her nipples into your mouth.

Hermione grips a handful of your hair as she lets out a moan.

Her hips moving harder against you. The warmth emanating from her core was driving you insane.

“Take this off.” You practically growled as you tugged at her sweatpants.

Hermione obeys without question immediately getting off you to take her pants off.

You quickly removed your own shirt, along with your slacks.

You were undressed in record time, clearly a result of being away from Hermione for three weeks.

Hermione is back on your lap, crashing her lips against yours. She kisses you hungrily, all teeth, tongue and aggression.

You move to lift her up but she pins you down again.

You watched as she grabs her wand, only registering what she was about to do when she waves it over your groin.

The familiar flesh coloured shaft forming, your breath catches in your throat.

Hermione holds your gaze as she lifts her hand up to her mouth gathering her own saliva in her palm.

Bringing her hand back down she strokes your shaft with dexterity.

Leaning back, you let out a groan. Shocked at how good her hand felt.

“Fuck, Hermione–”

Your girlfriend quickly silences you by lowering herself onto you.

The feeling of her cunt around your shaft made you dizzy.

She felt so good.

Something about the spell Hermione used this time that made you more sensitive, or perhaps it was your involuntarily abstinence. You couldn’t say for sure.

Hermione moves against you again and you let out an unrestrained moan.

She quickly places a hand over your mouth. Pursing her own lips, your girlfriend's trying her best not to scream out in pleasure herself.

“Quiet. They’ll hear you.” Hermione scolds, removing her hand from your mouth. She moves to grip the back of your neck.

You winced at the feeling of her nails digging into your skin but you are quickly distracted by Hermione’s hips moving again.

Repeatedly lifting herself up until only the tip of your strap was inside before moving back down onto it harshly.

She is fucking herself with abandon, using your cock for her own pleasure. It was selfish and unbelievably sexy.

Hermione had her eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip in between her teeth. She is trying so hard to stay silent.

You didn’t like it.

“Let them hear you, gorgeous. You sound so pretty when you cum.”

You whisper against her ear as your hands finding her breasts, kneading them.

You feel her move against your harder, you let out another moan which is quickly followed by hers.

Hermione moans out loud at every movement of her own hips and you smile triumphantly.

Your feel her clench painfully against your shaft. Her movements now inconsistent and messy, she was close.

Bringing your hand down you rubbed at her clit with your thumb. It didn’t take much for Hermione to come completely undone. She throws her head back, writhing and panting as the intense pleasure rips through her.

The sight of Hermione naked on top of you with her back arched accompanied with the feeling of you inside her was enough to make you reach your own release.

Her arms move to wrap around your neck, you held her as you both tried to recover.

“Do you think they heard us?” You joked and Hermione let’s out a breathless chuckle.

“That’s not funny. Now we’ll have to deal with Ron’s passive aggressiveness for the next few days.”

“Ah, that’s right the damage has been done. So there’s no harm in going for round two?”

You ask with no intention of waiting for an answer. You moved Hermione so that you were on top and she was laying down on the couch.

Not easing into it as you normally do, you thrust your hips harshly.

Hermione chokes out a moan in surprise, her hands moving to your back as you rutted into her.

Your girlfriend arches her back and you push her down roughly, holding her in place.

The whine that spills out of her lips only urged you to thrust deeper.

“Do you love me?” You asked, planting a kiss on her collarbone.

Hermione’s lost. She groans and you feel her clench against your shaft. You breathed in deeply suppressing your own orgasm.

“You know I love you.” Hermione barely manages to speak the sentence, she moans it.

Your hand moving to grip her throat you squeezed at it experimentally and watched as your girlfriend’s eyes roll to the back of her head.

Her hand reflexively moving to your neck pulling you lower, you had no choice but to lay your entire weight on her, causing you to push into her deeper.

Hermione moans loudly, reaching her sudden climax. You hadn’t anticipated it this time and from the looks of it neither did she.

She’s now moaning and trembling underneath you. The aftershocks of her orgasm taking its time to wear off.

She looked so breath-taking like this, you were convinced you could watch her forever.

**

════════════════════════════════════════════

You were both in bed now, Hermione’s resting her head against your chest as you rubbed small circles against her shoulder absentmindedly.

“I have a hunch but I’m not entirely sure I’m right.”

You blurt out unsure if your girlfriend was still awake to hear you.

“What sort of hunch?”

“I overheard Bellatrix speaking to her sister, she was losing her mind over one of the other death eaters entering her vault without her permission.”

Hermione hums in response and you elaborate.

“From what I’ve noticed, for some odd reason the Dark Lord trusts her the most. I bet anything the most likely place he’d hide a hocrux would be her vault.”

Hermione sits up to look at you. Already giving you a warning look before you could continue.

“If I can just get in there without her knowing–”

“Oh absolutely not.” Hermione interjects right away and you’re not shocked.

It was worth a shot.

“She’s a cold blooded killer y/n. I don’t even want to think about what she’d do to you if you broke into her vault and did get caught.”

“My answer is no. We’ll find another way.”

#hermione granger #hermione x reader #slytherin au #harry potter #harry x hermione #hermione granger x reader #hermione granger smut

[thecelestialperiwinkle]

ᰋ  ׅ࣪   ꒰  minors dni 18+ pac reading detailed ♡︎ your (future) person's hidden sexual thoughts  ꒱  

01. 02. 03.

disclaimer : this 18+ reading was made for adult audiences. it contains adult language and content and it may not suitable for minors and may not be for some adult readers. read at your own risk and be open-minded. kindly skip this post and avoid interacting if you don't feel it, stop reporting my posts! *chuu*

01

cards : world, 3oC, ToW, QoS, KoW, SoC.

this person's hidden thoughts is that they want to see the reaction of their partner's body and theirs too when having juicy time together. not only that, but they also want to see the reaction of their partner on how they're performing and moaning while doing those things. they would likely want to have a huge mirror in front where they can see both of the oral bodies.

if this is a man, they have a huge manhood, while if this is a woman, they will have a small and tight lady bits. when it comes to the chest part, they are big, well circled, and very delicate to look at and to suck up, no matter what gender it is. i see that they may be interested in collecting different types of sex toys to pleasure themselves as well as their partner. i also don't think that your first sexual encounter with them will be their first; perhaps they will be someone who may have experience with this kind of things.

they also desire to carry, embrace, or own the body of their partner all night or day. they want to enjoy every inch of you; they want this togetherness to happen. they are someone who is very picky when it comes to their partner and places; it's like you can't just fuck this person around and everywhere you want to.

02

cards : 4oP, 9oS, the devil, judgement, 6oW, PoW.

holding, caressing and handcuffs are the ones i am picking up here. they want to touch their partner's body precisely, they want to own and say each part of it's body ‘‘this is mine, this, this and this one’’. they may want you to look elegant or the first night with them might happen in such milk and honey places.

this person wants to find someone who will able to share their sex fantasies, someone who can match their passion when it comes to sex appetite. this person prefer to do this in a way of secret and dark like a very private meeting. there's also a little bit of desire here where everytime they got crush on someone they usually daydreaming making it with that person. i don't think they will tell this to anyone since they likely embarrassed talking that deep secret of them, they probably gonna keep it by themselves alone. other than that, they purely want to experience unwavering and shivering affection of sex. altogether, this pile is giving me an energy of two couple dancing in unison and making a beat along with the waves of music.

03

cards : hermit, QoC, PoW, 10oP, SoS, 9oS.

pile 2 and 3, both have two similar cards - this might be means that you maybe a little bit attracted to pile 2, if yes then maybe it have message for you.

so as i see here, this person will love this aloneness time together in the near future but right now, they probably prefer doing it alone. if you gonna asked me, they're not really good with it but they trying their best and still on the phase where they still on learning process. they're not yet reading for any sexual things. not yet because they're still trying to figuring it out. if not then this spicy secrets of them is likely to be confidential forever. there's also a fifty-fifty chances that they become obsess with their partner.

but before all of that they do want first an emotional relationship security. when it comes to their favorite parts of human body, they probably like - bum and breast parts and they may want to squeeze, cupping, holding, sucking and massaging it. this is about holding and locking their lover around their arms. i don't know if you would like this part but they fancy phone sex such as vc and chat ones, nude photos, giving head, going down, 69 and anything related to oral sex. they have crave for someone who is foreigner, someone who looks good and someone who is unique from their eyes. if not they likely want to do it in such a far away places most likely overseas. the first time with them or a special getting together might happen in other places, a foreign country as i said and maybe this a honeymoon? or a relaxation for the both of you. cuddling after sexual intercourse is also included to their desire.

© thecelestialperiwinkle

#pick a card #pick a pile #tarot #divination #tarotblr #tarot witch #cartomancy #fortune telling #love reading #spirituality #witch community #witchblr #future spouse #oracle reading #kpop tarot #psychic #witch #witches #thecelestialperiwinkle

[heartsandhischier]

Power Play of the Heart

andrei svechnikov x female!reader

summary - 1.4k words. Is Andrei slowly falling you? part 5 of The Pretend Play

author's note - honestly just need to get this out hahaha, had this idea in my head long before I even created my blog. this man got me wrapped around his pinky and he don't even know

warnings - none

Andrei’s reflection in the mirror was a portrait of unease, his hands  fumbling with the stubborn know of his tie, seemingly never looking right. It was the annual Canes charity gala, the soft murmur beyond his dressing room hinted at the grandeur awaiting. “Svechy, you ready soon? We’re about to hit the stage,” Seth’s head peaked around the corner, his voice a reminder of the ticking clock. Andrei muttered a quick ‘I’ll be right there’ continuing his battle with his tie. 

As sudden vibration broke through his concentration, a message from Y/N lighting up his phone screen.

Y/N: I’m running a bit late, don’t have too much fun without me.

This was to be their third public appearance, and he felt a stir of nerves, an odd mix of relief and disappointment at her tardiness. It afforded him a moment to breathe, to steel himself for the evening ahead. 

Taking the stage solo, Andrei was met with a sea of faces, the applause a warm welcome that belied his inner turmoil. He offered the crowd a smile, a wave, his persona as the affable athlete firmly in place. Yet, as he mingled, his thoughts wandered to Y/N, to the curious blend of anticipation and apprehension her presence evoked within him.

Then, as if summoned by his thoughts, the room hushed, attention riveted to the grand staircase where Y/N made her entrance. Time seemed to slow, her descent more a glide than a step, her gown a masterpiece – a creation that flowed around her that left him, and many others, momentarily breathless. The dress was unlike anything he had imagined her in, a blend of sophistication and allure that transformed her. The fabric shimmered with each step she took, a cascade of light that followed her movement. Her hair, usually free and unbridled, was styled in an elegant updo, exposing the graceful line of her neck.

The hockey player found himself unable to look away, his usual facade of indifference crumbling under the weight of this new revelation. There was an undeniable beauty to her, yes, but it was more than that — it was the way she carried herself, the confidence that radiated from her as she descended the stairs, meeting the gaze of the guests with a poised smile.

His heart, much to his chagrin, skipped a beat. He was taken aback by the intensity of his own reaction, a mix of admiration and something deeper he wasn't ready to name. It was a side of her he hadn't seen, or perhaps had chosen not to see, hidden beneath their bickering and the facade of their fake relationship.

As she approached, the murmurs of admiration from the guests reached his ears, but they faded into insignificance. Her eyes found his, a spark of amusement flickering within them as she read the surprise on his face.

"Lost for words?" she teased, her voice a soft melody against the clamor of the gala.

He cleared his throat, striving to regain his composure. "I... You look... different.”

"Different good, or different bad?" Her smile was playful, yet he detected a hint of genuine curiosity.

"Different... stunning," he confessed, the truth of his words laying bare the shift within him, a recognition of Y/N's beauty and grace that transcended their facade.

Her smile widened, pleased and a bit triumphant, as if his admission was a victory. "Well, let's not waste this moment, then. We have an image to uphold, don't we?" she reminded him, slipping her arm through his with a familiarity that sent an unexpected warmth through him.

As the gala proceeded, andrei watched her, a silent observer. Each time she laughed or smiled, whether at a teammate’s joke or in response to a fan’s enthusiasm, he saw her in a new light. The way the soft lighting of the room played across her features, the ease with which she navigated the crowd, and the genuine warmth she exuded left him bewildered

Stealing glances at her became a game of chance and temptation. He watched as she moved with a natural grace, her interactions imbued with an effortless charisma that seemed to draw people to her. The sight of her engaging so openly, so sincerely, with guests and teammates alike stirred something within him—a mix of admiration and a poignant sense of yearning for a connection that transcended their arrangement.

The realization that her warmth and comfort were not merely facets of her public persona but intrinsic qualities she possessed unsettled him. He was used to compartmentalizing their interactions, filing them away under the guise of necessity and pretense. Yet, as the evening wore on, the lines between the act they performed and the reality of their burgeoning rapport blurred, leaving him adrift in uncharted emotional waters.

As the final echoes of the gala's laughter and music faded into the night, Andrei and Y/N made their way through the dispersing crowd, offering smiles and farewells to his teammates. The crisp evening air greeted them as they stepped outside, a welcome reprieve from the warmth of the crowded venue. Under the canopy of the night sky, they paused, their exchange of goodbyes hanging between them, a customary end to their orchestrated appearances.

Andrei, however, found himself hesitating, caught in the afterglow of the evening's unexpected revelations. The memory of Y/N's elegance, her laughter echoing in his mind, anchored him to the spot. The night had peeled back layers of their pretense, revealing glimpses of genuine connection that left him questioning the boundaries of their arrangement.

"You need a ride?" he found himself asking, his voice cutting through the cool night air. It was an offer spurred by impulse, a desire to extend the night, to linger in the company of this new version of Y/N he was only just beginning to understand.

Y/N turned, her expression one of mild surprise, a flicker of curiosity lighting her eyes. For a moment, she seemed to weigh his offer, the silence between them stretching. Then, with a small nod, she accepted, her hand finding his in a gesture that felt as natural as it was unexpected. The contact sent a jolt of warmth through him, a tangible reminder of the shift in their dynamic.

As they walked to his car, the city lights casting long shadows on the pavement, the easy silence that enveloped them felt like a departure from their usual guarded exchanges. The touch of her hand in his was a silent conversation, a language they were only just beginning to navigate.

The drive was marked by the soft hum of the car and the occasional sweep of headlights across the darkened streets. Andrei stole glances at Y/N, her profile illuminated by the passing lights, her expression thoughtful. The night had woven a thread of intimacy between them, a shared secret that the car's confined space seemed to magnify.

This feels right, doesn’t it? Why does it feel right?

"Do you think they bought it?" Y/N finally broke the silence, her voice low, a reference to their performance at the gala.

Andrei considered her question, the "they" undoubtedly referring to their audience of teammates, fans, and press. "I think so," he replied, the acknowledgment of their success tinged with a newfound reluctance to continue the charade

Y/N turned to him, a soft smile playing on her lips. Her gaze holding his for a moment longer than necessary. "Thank you for the ride—and for the company."

The simplicity of her gratitude struck a chord in Andrei, a realization that their relationship, however fabricated, had evolved into something neither of them had anticipated. "Anytime," he responded, the words carrying a weight of sincerity that surprised him.

As he pulled up to her place, the car's idle rumble a gentle backdrop, they shared a look that acknowledged the evening's unspoken shift. Y/N's exit from the car was reluctant, a pause on the threshold of departure that neither had expected.

"See you tomorrow?" Andrei asked, the question a hopeful tether to the next time they would meet.

"Yes, see you tomorrow," Y/N confirmed, her smile genuine as she stepped out into the night, the door closing softly behind her.

Andrei watched her until she disappeared inside, the lingering warmth of her hand in his a ghostly sensation. The drive back was a reflective journey, the night's events unfolding in his mind like a movie, each moment a scene that brought them closer. The gala, with all its glitz and performance, had unexpectedly bridged the distance between them, leaving Andrei to wonder about the future, about what lay beyond the pretense and if the moments of genuine connection could indeed blossom into something real.

#andrei svechnikov fanfiction #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov #as37 #andrei svechnikov fanfic #canes fanfiction #canes fanfic #carolina hurricanes fanfiction #carolina hurricanes fanfic #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #andrei svechnikov x y/n

[claiestve]

𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐙𝐞𝐫𝐨 ꨄ Zaros

˜”* ❝'𝘾𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚, 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙙 𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙨.❞

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴢᴀʀᴏꜱ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ.

⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯

You were going on a walk to calm you down. The trials have stressed you out to a ton and you could not sit still. However, you wanted company. You knew how much he irritated and aggravated you with his little tantrums about how ‘spoiled’ you were but you couldn’t help but feel relaxed around him. He was the one person you could be yourself around. Even though your guard was always up, mask always on, he got to see a more truthful side to it. 

It didn’t take too long to find him as he visited his favorite areas. And there he was, reading in the grass. You couldn’t grasp how he felt so comfortable doing such and so openly, but it wasn’t time for you to judge, not now anyway. 

“I’m going for a walk to clear my head.” You say looking at him sternly. However, he seemed quite unbothered. He didn’t ask anything or say anything witty. He just sat there. 

“Have fun.”

“You don’t want to join me?” 

“Do you want me to?” He raised a brow, smirking. A stupid look that he always has on his face. It was utterly annoying but it did amuse you just a bit. 

You nodded to his ask and waited for him to get up. 

“You’re carrying the book around? Just leave it here.”

“I’d rather have it on me in case you try hurting me. Oddly, you would even want me to join you on this walk. Suspicious even. Are you planning on getting your competition out of the way early? That’s foul you know.” There he went with his blunt, arrogant, insufferable rants and accusations. 

You didn’t even care to indulge in him, you’d rather relish this peace. He must’ve noticed your unusual silence because he reciprocated it. Even though you were already a quieter person, often holding back, you’d snap back at him. 

“So, my Earis, what brings us here and on this stroll? You seem awfully peaceful and quiet today.” 

“Well,” You started hesitantly, “I know the trials have been utterly stressful, wouldn’t you agree?”

Zaros scoffed at your facade. He knew you weren’t as put together as you portrayed yourself to be. Unfortunately for him, you had no intention of arguing. 

“So you brought your rival on a stroll with you? That’s outright stupidity.”

“You’re free to leave, Zaros. You were invited to join me, not required.”

He stared at you in silence. Normally, he had a smart counterpoint but not this time. Not even one word no matter how bad he wanted to say it. For the first time, he was completely dumbfounded. 

“Apologies, I– the idea just confused me.”

You nodded in acceptance of his apology. Most of the time, you’d laugh at him for being so quickly flabbergasted; however, you didn’t have the energy for that. You didn’t have the energy to be as angry or snarky as you typically were. 

“But,” He started again, “You are very quiet today. Perhaps you want me to start the conversations?”

“That would be nice.”

“Ah, what am I most interested in asking you about today?”

“Please nothing that would make me feel guilty.”

The two of you laughed at that. It felt so odd but so right. After all, if a joke is funny, laugh. That was something you’ve taught him a long time ago. Around when you first met. Zaros wasn’t the best at expressing himself but you changed him completely. Whether that was a good or bad thing, you didn’t care enough to debate it. 

“Remember when we were learning how to skip rocks? Ah, you hated that. Always complaining about your hands being dirty and coming to me to help you clean them.”

“I remember that. I still loathe the filthiness of those rocks. I did turn to you a lot though, didn’t I?”

“Yes. Always going to me saying ‘Zaros, my hands are dirty again!’ I remember I would use my own clothes to wipe your hands and arms. I felt like your protector or some such.”

In a way, he kind of was. That’s how you used to see him. Oddly enough, that’s how he saw you too. 

He cleared his throat and walked closer to you, “That was when we were inseparable.”

You smiled at him, “The most free I've ever been.”

He looked at you in confusion. He knew you didn’t have the most freedom here but if anything, he thought you would enjoy it knowing your ‘standards’.

“You feel trapped here?”

“Not trapped, just very restricted.”

“Do you feel trapped right now?” Zaros asks, putting his hand on your shoulder, expecting you to push it off.

“No, not when I’m with you.”

You say as you keep his hand on your shoulder, enjoying his company. 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

this was originally supposed to be an alex fic but... no! this was also going to go in so many different directions so it took me a minnn

#zsakuva #asmr #sakuverse #zsakuvaxreader #zsakuva zaros #zaros

[weirdkpopgirl]

Mistake | Haechan Imagine #6

Title: Mistake

Genre: neighbors to lovers

Warnings: mentions of a toxic relationship and drinking

Word Count: ~1.5k

Author's Note: Another neighbors to lovers story, but for Haechan. Something about writing a Haechan story with the enemies-to-lovers trope is so fun to write. I also feel like he is a very straightforward person. So he's not someone who is more likely to be honest about his feelings? I don't know, that's just my thoughts. I hope you guys like this and look forward to my upcoming works ^ ^

─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─

For someone who appreciated a peaceful and drama-free lifestyle, you lucked out with having Lee Donghyuck or Haechan as your neighbor—the complete opposite of you. Despite residing an entire floor below him, the thin walls proved ineffective in containing whatever nonsense emanated from his apartment. Almost every other night this guy was throwing impromptu parties, as if there weren’t other people who lived in the building. 

Countless evenings were spent sitting at your desk, trying to study while the loud music from above constantly disrupted your focused state. At first, you didn’t say anything because you liked to avoid any form of conflict. But on a particularly stressful night before exams, you decided you had enough and mustered up the courage to confront your lovely neighbor (yes, you were being sarcastic). 

Of course, Haechan didn’t take your complaints seriously and even had the nerve to invite you to join his ridiculous gathering. You firmly retorted that some people actually wanted to get some work done, before storming back down the stairs. Things with him had remained tense ever since.

Honestly, Haechan couldn’t understand how you could be so...quiet. Both of you were in your early twenties, and you should be savoring this youthful phase of life. How could someone perpetually bury their noses in books when there was a world of excitement waiting to be experienced? 

On the other hand, all you could do was huff and cross your arms in response. You didn’t appreciate Donghyuck’s carefree attitude one bit. Little did you know that beneath his party-loving exterior, there was a whirlpool of emotions brewing.

A few weeks later, you were getting off the bus after studying at the library a little longer than anticipated. You had skipped lunch after class to go there, so food had been forgotten until now. Letting out a sigh, you stopped at the convenience store near your apartment to buy a triangle kimbap.

What you didn’t expect was to encounter a sluggish-looking Haechan, hands trembling as he clutched a bag of soju. His usually gleeful eyes were clouded with a sadness you had never seen in him before. He didn’t even notice you as he was about to pass by.

“Haechan,” you instinctively reached for the end of his hoodie sleeve. “What’s wrong?”

He hastily pulled away from your grasp, “Don’t act like you care, (Y/n). Just go back to studying your boring life away.”

His words stung and caused you to clench your fists in frustration. But knowing he didn’t mean it, you followed him outside. “You’re my neighbor—of course I care,” you muttered. 

Despite being perhaps the most irritating person you'd ever met, it was evident that something was troubling him deeply. You weren't about to turn your back on someone who was clearly upset, especially a ray of sunshine like Lee Haechan.

Haechan didn’t respond immediately. But eventually, tears began to well in his eyes as he released a heavy sigh. “I found out my girlfriend was cheating on me at my own party.”

Your eyes widened upon hearing this revelation. “Oh my gosh, seriously?”

A surge of sympathy washed over you. Despite your less-than-friendly feelings toward him, no one deserved to be cheated on. The bag of green bottles he was carrying now made sense. Despite your fatigue from school and your growling stomach, you set those concerns aside to support him.

“Well, if you're going to drink, you shouldn't do it alone,” you said in the gentlest tone you had ever used with him.

Haechan glanced at you, a flicker of surprise dancing in his eyes. Before he knew it, the two of you were walking back to your apartment, settling at the small wooden dining table in the living room.

Since he had taken care of the drinks, you decided to make some instant ramen to go with it. However, it was mostly you eating, as Donghyuck didn't seem to have much of an appetite. You couldn't really blame him, considering you would be in the same boat if you hadn’t been starving before this.

Once you had poured the first round, you and Haechan raised your shot glasses and clinked them together before drinking in silence, letting the alcohol numb your pain–or at least his. The two of you soon realized that you both had a high alcohol tolerance, so it took longer for the effects to kick in. However, Haechan was the first to get drunk, while you were starting to get a little tipsy.

“You know the worst part?” His words slurred as the glass in his hand trembled. “I saw all the signs, but still ignored them like a fool.”

You gently intervened, preventing him from pouring another shot of soju. “That's no excuse for her to hurt you like that,” you asserted, your tone firm yet comforting. “And whether you notice the signs or not, most people still want to believe the best in others.”

“So, I'm not a fool because I'm like everyone else?” he asked.

Meeting his gaze, you responded with a sly smile, “No, you're a fool because everyone else is.”

Initially, you were apprehensive about how he might react to your comment and weren't entirely sure it made sense. To your surprise, he let out a soft chuckle. 

“You are something else, (Y/n),” he shook his head before downing another shot. 

As the night wore on, Haechan’s tears turned into incoherent ramblings. The contrast of his rosy cheeks against his tan skin was rather endearing as he laughed. At some point, he leaned in and clumsily kissed you. It was unexpected, and your heart skipped a beat, but you pretend it didn't happen. After all, he was drunk, and he probably wouldn't remember it in the morning.

In the days that followed, the animosity between you and Haechan faded away. You started hanging out more at each other’s apartments, sometimes drinking or just having late-night conversations. Through those moments, you got to know the Donghyuck part of Haechan. 

You learned details such as his admiration for Michael Jackson and that kimchi jjigae was his comfort food. He wasn’t just a party animal, but his unexpected mellow and down-to-earth side made you view him in a different light. 

Despite all that, the kiss was never brought up, confirming to you that he didn’t recall it. Your initial annoyance with Haechan had evolved into something more complicated. Then you were left with a peculiar heaviness in your heart. So you decided not to bring up the subject either. Until one day, the two of you were having a movie night and neither of you had any alcohol in your systems. 

“You know…that night when I kissed you, I remember it,” he admitted quietly, without any warning. “And I’m really sorry for taking advantage of you like that.” 

You gazed at him in slight surprise, while trying not to show how alarmed you felt. Shaking your head, you offered an understanding smile. 

“I know it was a mistake. You were vulnerable at the time and not to mention, drunk.”

“That doesn’t make what I did right though,” he stated, his tone the most serious you’ve heard it. “Especially because I have feelings for you.”

Sitting up straighter, you almost choked on air. “I’m sorry—what did you just say?”

“I’ve never understood you, even when we first met. But even in my drunken state, I realized you were a genuinely kind person who sincerely cared for those around her,” he explained.

You could feel yourself gradually being persuaded by his words. But the part of you that doubted this was all a hallucination persisted. But then Haechan took your hands in his, infusing warmth into the moment.

“You’re not a mistake to me, (Y/n).” His eyes locked onto yours as he spoke. “I know I’m being selfish right now, but I want to be with you.”

Then your heart was racing as you absorbed what he had just said. “I want to be with you too, Donghyuck.”

His eyes brightened at the sound of his real name. But as he began to lean in, he abruptly paused. You shot him a questioning look, wondering what was stopping him. 

He slid one hand beneath your hair, gently resting it on your nape. “Can I kiss you?”

Feeling his warm breath against your lips made you a bit dizzy, but you responded with a smile and a nod. Unlike the last time you kissed, his request for permission reassured you that this was indeed real.

With your consent, he closed the distance between you and kissed you with far more passion than the first time. It was a kiss infused with newfound understanding, forgiveness, and the promise of something beautiful. Undeniably, nothing about that was a mistake.

─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─

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