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seonghwaddict · 5 months

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blue bird — choi san, jung wooyoung

in which one of the most dangerous men in the city approaches you with an offer, but how would you have known it would turn into something more?

mafia boss!choi san x fem!reader x mafia boss!jung wooyoung. genre. fluff, smut, mafia au. warnings. explicit sexual content minors dni, unprotected sex, dom!san, dom!wooyoung, sub!reader, slight corruption, p in v, oral (f and m receiving), multiple orgasms, threesome, fingering, reverse cowgirl position, pussy drunk wooyoung??, subspace??, cum swallowing, san is a little mean, wooyoung likes to tease, lots of teasing, hair pulling, slight degradation, dirty talk like a lot of it, brief begging, praise, overuse of the word pretty, pet names (doll, princess, baby, pretty girl, good girl, baby doll, pretty little slut). i think that’s it but if i missed anything please let me know. wc. 6.9k.

lilo’s notes. hiii happy new year everyone!! this is dedicated to @garlichoisan, surprise! i was your secret santa :3 i’m sorry but i completely forgot to write angst and couldn’t find a way to squeeze it in, please forgive me 😭😭 i think i got a little carried away with the smut, it’s probably not my best since i’m not very experienced in writing it but i hope you like it and this as a whole!!

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choi san wanted you in a rather unexpected way.

not in a friendly way or a sexual way, but actually in a professional way. ever since he’d heard of what you, the so called “blue bird,” were up to, he knew you’d be a valuable asset. shortly after he heard about you, he was quick to tell wooyoung about what he had learned from idling in a bar he’d never been to.

it was an early morning. so early that the sun hadn’t risen yet, but that didn’t bother san. he preferred quieter, intimate spaces rather than the bustling clubs of grey city. as he sipped on his whiskey, the two men beside him got to talking. neither of them were very memorable, if anything they looked too similar; not intimidating in any way. still, he made a mental note of the guns attached to their hips. it was nothing very interesting, small talk from what he could tell. well, at least until they mentioned an odd name.

“did you hear what she did?”

“who?” one of them, the one with comically thick glasses, said as he blew out some cigarette smoke.

“well… ya know…” his voice lowered to a whisper, though in his drunken state it was less of a discreet whisper and more of a loud hiss, “the blue bird.”

he gave a sound of recognition. “wonderful heist, wasn’t it?”

“indeed,” he laughed, a deep chortle, “she was here tellin’ ricky all about it yesterday. flawless, flew in and out like a ghost.” he sighed blissfully, as if he had been there to watch you work.

now this. this is what caught infamous mafia boss choi san’s attention.

“more like a bird!” the bespectacled man nudge his friend with his elbow, a high pitched giggle leaving him. “get it? because she’s called bl-”

the friend held his hand up with a deadpan expression. “yes, i get it.”

the two men talked about you some more (“pretty thing she is, isn’t she?” “mhm, heard she’s actually quite sweet too. odd thing to hear about an outlaw.”), but san tuned them out again. with an important upcoming mission, he needed someone capable of doing exactly what these two men had described. he needed someone like you. preferably, you.

going off of what he had heard, he frequented that bar, hoping you’d happen to be there at the same time. he sat at the same seat at the same counter every night and always ordered the same thing. he noticed that after the first two nights he was there, no one really sat next to him. presumably because they recognised him and opted to avoid him instead of doing anything.

not that he cared, this part of town was known to be filled with people of the rebellious type; people like him who despised the government and would stop at nothing to take it down. if anything, they most likely respected him and his business. but alas, that doesn’t matter much in this particular story, does it?

wooyoung even offered to take turns visiting the bar, curious to see this mysterious person as well. but two weeks passed and no sign of you. most of the people there were the same every time he went, he was sure he would’ve noticed a new face at some point.

fortunately, his efforts became successful.

as usual, no one sat directly beside him, leaving one or two barstools between him and whatever other patron sat at the counter. or so he thought. the usual bartender passed him and came to a stop. confused and thinking the bartender stopped for him despite already sipping on his drink, san tilted his head. but it soon became evident that he wasn’t there for him, but rather for the pretty woman he didn’t notice sitting beside him.

“the usual?” the bartender asked, a crooked smile spreading on his face as he looked at you, his hands busy drying a glass.

san heard a brief chuckle beside him, prompting him to take a proper look at you. the first thing he noticed were your lips. plump and red, smooth lipstick. then the slope of your neck and shoulders, exposed by the thin straps of your silky black dress, jacket hanging by your elbows. the soft yellow-tinted lighting bounced off your rich skin and perfect hair in an almost hypnotising way. there was something enchanting about your aura, your posture, you.

he forced himself to look away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“yes, thank you.” you replied, nodding at the bartender as he turned to prepare your drink.

“one hot chocolate for our blue bird coming right up!”

blue bird.

this time san couldn’t stop himself from looking. so it was you.

the men from the other day weren’t lying when they called you a pretty little thing. you wore a silky black dress and a black fur jacket to protect you from the cold wind of the night. as his eyes roamed over you they got caught on your plump thighs. briefly, he wondered if they felt as soft as they looked but soon enough something else caught his attention. as you shifted in your seat, he caught a glimpse of the inside of your jacket, a quick glint reflecting from inside told him you were indeed carrying a weapon. he made sure to keep that in the back of his mind.

a man such as himself, wide shouldered and intimidating, was hard to ignore. if you didn’t notice him staring from the corner of your eyes, you were sure the heat of his stare would’ve burned a hole through your skin. needless to say, he had caught your attention as well, except you seemed to be better at hiding it.

once the momentary shock subsided, he smiled. the fact that such a dangerous person would regularly order hot chocolates from a bar was amusing to him.

noticing the change in expression, you glance at him. what the hell? seeing a man grinning at you was unsettling. a man with such broad shoulders who could probably easily overpower you. his face looked familiar, you realised, but couldn’t quite attach a name to it quite yet.

unsure of what to do and what this man may want from you, you turned away and engaged in a conversation with the bartender as he prepared your drink, all the while ignoring the man at your side. as soon as you finished your drink, you placed some cash on the counter and got up, swiftly walking out of the bar.

while your goal was to get away, you didn’t take the fact that he might follow you into account.

“don’t go yet, little outlaw, i’d like to talk to you about something.”

his voice was rather calm and even, but still left minimal room for discussion. you rolled your eyes before turning around with a completely different expression—eyes wide and innocent, lashes fluttering, eyebrows raised.

“you must be mistaken, sir, i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

he chuckled and took some steps forward and that’s when you recognised him. shit. he slowly walked over to you, speaking to you in that same calm voice with a sprinkle of cockiness somewhere in it. “playing dumb? really? for someone as smart as yourself i’d expect you to know that the 1 billion won bounty on your head doesn’t hide you.”

you sighed at his words, taking steps back to maintain the distance. there was no use continuing the innocent act, snapping at him, “what do you want?”

“do you know who i am?”

“of course i do, the whole city does. do you think i live under a rock?” you scoffed a laugh.

he dismissed your sarcasm, being used to having to deal with such cheeky mouths. “i have an offer.” when you didn’t reply, he continued. “help me and my… business partner with a heist.”

that was not what you expected.

“hmm… no, thanks.” you smiled up at him but nearly faltered as your back hit the wall of an alley you had unknowingly backed yourself into. you cursed yourself silently as he stood right in front of you, so close you had to look up to maintain eye contact.

“i wasn’t asking, darling.” he looked down at you, expression nearly sneering as he held an air of superiority about him. “you either agree or you’ll wake up behind bars tomorrow morning.”

“you can’t arrest me or turn me in, they’ll forget all about me since you’re the more wanted one out of the two of us.” you spoke matter-of-factly, a cocky tilt to the corner of your lips.

“i never said i would be the one to turn you in, little outlaw.”

“you know,” you hummed and moved your arms. his first assumption was that you were reaching for the dagger he glimpsed inside your jacket earlier, instinctively catching your wrists in his grasp as your words died in your throat and your breath hitched. he shifted his grip to place both of your wrists in one hand, holding them up above your head as his free hand nudged your jacket open, revealing the dagger.

he clicked his tongue patronisingly and fished it out delicately. his eyes shifted to yours, eyebrows raising in a silent question as he tossed the weapon over his shoulder. the metal blade clinked and echoed in the barren alleyway. he kept your wrists in his hold but lowered your arms, holding them at the height of your hips.

he leaned forward, speaking into your ear lowly as you suppressed a shudder. “you may continue.”

you glared at him and had the sudden urge to punch the shit eating grin off his face. “what’s in it for me?”

“um…” his face went blank and he leaned back to look at you, clearly not a single thought processing behind those cat-like eyes. “is there anything you want in particular?”

“protection.” you said simply, tilting your head.

“oh,” he nodded slowly, his brows furrowing in confusion but he kept his eyes on you. “but can’t you find that in any store?”

he felt a hit against his shin as you kicked him lightly. “ew not that. i meant… well, doing what i do, there’s a lot of people after me. you have the means to have some of your guys make sure i don’t run into any trouble.”

san nodded understandingly, loosening his grip on your wrists but not letting go. not that you minded. “that’s perfectly possible, yes.”

you exhaled, relieved. warm air fanning against his neck as you did so. “okay, then, i’m in. so what is it you need me to do?”

this time he released your wrists completely and took a step back, reaching into an inner pocket of his tailored suit and pulled out a little card with one hand as the other brought your hand up.

he brushed his hand over your closed fist, opening your fingers up to reveal your palm, placing the card in your palm before gently nudging your fingers to close over it. in a swift move, he turned your hand around and bowed forward, pressing a slow and soft kiss to your knuckles—eyes locked on yours as you stared back at him in bewilderment.

he lifted his lips, smirking at you as he straightened up, hands moving to the bottom of his blazer and tugging, stretching the wrinkles away. “i expect to see you tomorrow at dusk, little blue bird.”

with a wink, he turned on his heels and walked away. you watched him, listening to the echoing footsteps as he left the alley and disappeared around a corner, leaving you slumped against the cold brick wall with burning cheeks.

you weren’t sure what you expected when you arrived at the address on the card choi san gave you. perhaps an underground bunker that looked nothing like the breathtaking estate you stood in front of.

the building was tucked within a small forest far from the outskirts of night city. the architecture seemed foreign and classical, a building you’d roam through whilst listening to tchaikovsky or chopin—not a building you’d expect to scheme against the government in. though, you supposed in some aspects it fit the aesthetic san had going on. sipping whiskey in a fully tailored suit, the smell of cigarette smoke and mint heavy in the air around him.

you walked up to the grand double doors, taking a moment to admire the intricate carvings before ringing the bell. less than a minute later, the right door swung open to reveal a stranger.

he wore wide dark jeans and a black and white plaid shirt, the top few buttons undone to reveal his chiselled collarbones and practically half of his torso. his black hair was slicked back with a few strands framing his face with the dainty square glasses he wore, some hanging silver earrings on display. he was, completely objectively speaking, handsome.

his eyes roamed over you, taking in your appearance before smiling and crossing his arms, leaning his side against the door as he pushed his glasses up to rest on the top of his head. you noticed a mole on his face—a small dot just under his left eye. “so you’re the little outlaw san told me about, huh?”

“yes, and you are?” you knew who he was, of course, but pleasantries were pleasantries nonetheless.

“jung wooyoung, but you already knew that.”

you chuckled and put your arms up in surrender, “oh no, i’ve been caught.”

his laugh was rather high pitched as he ushered you in. “come in, it gets cold at night.”

he led you through the house, stopping by what he referred to as his office but really looked like a sitting room with soft lighting and a desk to grab some rolled up papers before continuing the walk. the interior was just as beautiful as the exterior; intricate paintings and marble floors. wooyoung smiled as he saw the awe-stricken look on your face.

he led you to another set of double doors, pushing both of them open and stepping through without looking back to make sure you were following. now this was an office.

your jaw nearly dropped as you walked into the room, spinning a full circle to gawk at the various bookshelves that lined the walls and high ceiling that looked like it came straight out of the sistine chapel. a large fireplace cast a warm, yet still dark, glow over the room, making it look that much more impressive. a graceful vintage couch with two matching armchair were placed in front of the fireplace, a glass coffee table nestled between the seats and the source of light and warmth.

the floor creaked with every step you took, being made of dark wooden planks instead of marble.

you flinched as you heard san’s familiar voice snapping you out of your stupor. “pick your jaw up, you might catch flies.”

at the sound of his voice, you whipped around and glared at him after quickly pulling yourself together. he was sat in a leather chair at his impressive desk, wooyoung sat (balanced) on the arm of the chair.

you walked over and stood across from them in front of the desk. “it’s a nice house, are you two the only ones that live here?”

wooyoung took the chance to answer. “sometimes. there’s six others that are part of our… syndicate, but they stay in other places, surrounding grey city.”

“enough of that.” san waved his hand dismissively and leaned forward. as he did so, your eyes were drawn to his chest. he wore a white button up, though it appeared to be a bit tight judging by the way the fabric around the buttons strained every time he moved. your lingering gaze didn’t go unnoticed, but neither of them brought it up. “woo, the plans, please.”

the plan was set to take place the months after you had met with them for the first time. this gave you three to prepare, to memorise the layout and every detail about the building you’ll be infiltrating. for this preparation, you frequented their estate often—nearly every day—and spent hours with them. two weeks in, they offered you one of their guest bedrooms to stay in.

at first wooyoung got on your nerves, but soon enough you grew accustomed to his antics—the clinginess, the teasing. eventually, you even found yourself liking it and seeking it out.

san was slightly more reserved at first, more serious. but soon he, too, let down his guard. encouraging words, affectionate touches.

the more time you spent with them, the more you found yourself relaxing, letting them handle you with care instead of pushing them away like you used to with so many people before them. and eventually you, dare you say, began liking them.

you couldn’t deny the way san’s sharp snd perceptive eyes made you want to squirm under his gaze as he watched you bend over his desk to point something out on the building’s floor plan. you couldn’t deny the way his gentle commands (“do this for me please.” “come here, princess.”) had butterflies roaring in your stomach.

and wooyoung. while san was indeed quite physically affectionate, it was nothing compared to wooyoung. lingering touches and smooth words. sometimes you’d be grabbing something in kitchen and he’d come by, pulling you aside by your hips to grab something. later that day you’d offered to cook something up for dinner, but he only tutted and lifted you by your waist to place you on the marble island counter (“i don’t trust you in my kitchen, baby. just sit there and look pretty for me, yeah?”). jung wooyoung was a flirt and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

two days before the heist, you walked into san’s office after waking up and not being able to find woo. in the time you’d spent with them, you had learned that san acquired the bigger and fancier office by winning a game of rock paper scissors.

as you opened the door, the cat-eyed man looked up from whatever he was working on, smiling as he watched you yawn and stretch on your way over to him. he gave you a once over; you wore an oversized shirt, the collar shifted and hanging over one shoulder, the end of the shirt ending halfway down your thighs.

“sleep well?” he asked, putting his pen down as you stopped in front of the desk. he’d woken up not too long before you, still in his sleepwear, hair tussled but somehow still perfect.

you nodded, your voice soft in your sleepy state, “where’s woo?”

“he went out to get stuff for dinner,” he chuckled as he heard the slight concern in your voice. he pushed his chair back slightly and patted his lap. “come sit here while i work, princess.”

you grinned and walked around the desk, claiming his lap as your seat. you leaned back against him, back pressed to his front. he kissed your exposed shoulder chastely and got back to work. you tried to look down at his papers to see what he was doing, but the way his unoccupied arm wrapped around your waist and shifted you slightly (in a way that accidentally made his thigh rub against certain areas) had your mind going blank, unable to focus on anything other than his touch.

though you couldn’t see it, san also had a hard time focusing. every time you moved, your ass brushed over his pelvis. it was clear he didn’t think it through when he told you to sit on him since now he was having a hard time holding himself back, a bulge growing in his sweatpants.

you shifted again, trying to find a position where none of his body parts rubbed against your core, and he sucked a sharp breath in. his hands practically flew to your hips to hold you still.

“princess, i need you to sit still or i might go crazy, okay?” he spoke softly into your ear, hot breaths brushing against your skin and making you shiver, a fact he noticed and made him smirk. maybe he was already going crazy, but just a little more wouldn’t hurt, right?

he kept his lips by your ear for a moment before moving down slightly, placing them just below your earlobe. it was your turn for your breath to hitch, tilting your head to give him more space. he nearly groaned at the subtle act of submission, burying his face into your skin and kissing his way down to the crook of your neck.

time seemed to slow as his hands tightened on your hips, he scraped his teeth along your neck before biting down gently, not enough to hurt but enough to elicit a breathy whine. when the sound left your lips, he froze.

when you noticed he wasn’t doing anything, you whined again and rolled your hips over his pelvis, dropping your head back on his shoulder. the action surprised yourself too. you’d had sex, of course, but it was never a necessity for you. even when the opportunity presented itself, you wouldn’t chase after it. yet here you were, wordlessly begging him to continue. what had these men done to you?

“is this okay?” he whispered.

you nodded immediately, turning your head to look at him. his breath nearly caught in his throat as he saw the look in your eyes, illuminated by the soft glow of the fireplace—a silent plea for him to have his way with you, release the tension that’s built up over the previous three months. without waiting a second longer, he attached his lips to your neck again, a certain roughness to the way he caressed your skin with his lips and his tongue and his teeth.

you melted against him and let your eyes fall shut when you felt his hands slip shirt off, tossing it on his desk, and then rest against your bare waist, fingertips brushing over the skin making a shiver run down your spine. a voice that wasn’t his had your eyes flying open, your body freezing for a moment before you realised who it was.

“you two just couldn’t wait for me?” wooyoung pouted, leaning against the desk in front of the chair you and san occupied. san chuckled against your neck while you stared at wooyoung, dumbfounded, unexpected excitement stirring in your abdomen.

he looked from your face, to san’s smirk, and then down at the way your hips tried finding the right angle to grind on san’s lap. a dark chuckle left wooyoung’ slips and he leaned forward, hands coming to rest on your knees.

“need help with that, doll?” he tilted his head, a mocking pout gracing his lips as he cooed at you, one hand coming up to caress your cheek for a moment as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

your eyes practically twinkled as you looked up at him, pupils dilated as you nod helplessly. wooyoung smiled and patted your cheek affectionately, pecking your forehead again before sinking to his knees in between yours and san’s legs, kissing his way down your body. your eyes tracked him and his slow descent, breath held in anticipation.

“cute,” he giggled as he eyed your pink panties, slipping them off your legs and tossing them aside. he hooked your legs on either side of san’s, spreading them apart, looking up at you. “just relax, be a good girl and keep your legs like that for me, yeah?”

when you nodded, he kissed your inner thigh followed by a quiet groan as he noticed the arousal dripping from your cunt. “oh, doll, you’re so wet.”

“hm, is she?” san chimed in, one of of his hands leaving your waist to dip down and casually slide a finger through your folds; from bottom to top, applying more pressure the further he slid. you prepared yourself for his finger to get to your clit but, much to your dismay, he removed his hand just before he got there. you suppressed the urge to glare at him over your shoulder. simultaneously, wooyoung began leaving pecks all over your inner thighs.

san hummed and pressed another kiss just below your ear, whispering, his voice thick with lust, “all that and we barely even started. what a pathetic, needy mess, huh?”

the way he said it made it clear he expected an answer from you, but with how wooyoung ran a single finger through your folds, you couldn’t do much but shudder and nod. san clicked his tongue and snaked his hands further up from your waist just under your breasts, fingers brushing circles over your nipples. he waited patiently to give you more time to answer.

wooyoung’s tongue slipped out to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit and both your brain practically short-circuited. the combination of the feeling of his tongue and his wide, glossy eyes peering up at you from between your legs sending your mind reeling. he groaned as he tasted you, swearing in his head that he’d probably finish in his pants within five minutes. a sudden pinch of your nipples had you snapping out of your trance.

“say it, princess.”

“ah- i’m a mess.”

“and why are you a mess?”

you opened your mouth to answer but your own moan cut you off as wooyoung began circling your clit with his tongue. san’s lips backed away from your ear and he looked down at wooyoung, signalling for him to stop by holding up his flat palm. your chest heaved with heavy breaths as wooyoung reluctantly removed his tongue and leaned back just an inch, giving you a moment to recover.

“he won’t continue until you tell me why you’re a mess, baby.”

“because of you,” you whined, trying to press your hips closer to wooyoung’s face but to no avail as san moved his hands back down to hold you firmly by those hips he loved so much.

“good girl, that’s right,” he cooed into your ear, giving you a tender kiss. “you’re our pathetic needy mess, aren’t you?”

“your mess. i’m your mess.”

at the confirmation, san looked down at wooyoung and nodded. not even a second later wooyoung’s mouth was back on you. one of san’s hands stayed to control your hips and the other went back to massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples.

wooyoung’s pace was relentless. he ate you out like a man starved, licking up all the juices that seeped from you while he made sure to nudge his nose against your clit repeatedly. when his mouth wasn’t at your entrance, he had his lips wrapped around your clit, alternating between rhythmic sucks and prods of his tongue, one of his fingers teasingly circling your hole.

he swore he could’ve gotten drunk off your taste, finding the way you writhed in san’s lap so cute. wooyoung momentarily removed his mouth from you once again, watching your face as he tentatively pushed his finger past your entrance. he spoke, voice somewhere between a hoarse groan and a sigh.

“fuck…”

you threw your head back on san’s shoulder, suddenly aware of the hard erection pressed against your ass. you tried to rock your hips just a bit, wanting to help him, but his fingers tightened on your hips.

“keep being such a good girl and i’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your name, but i need you to be patient. okay, princess?”

your breath hitches and you nodded at his promise, your attention being drawn back to the man between your legs as he added another finger. your breathing grew erratic.

“mmm, so tight.” he groaned, eyes fixated on the way his fingers disappeared into your before slipping out again, more and more of your slick seeping out with each thrust of his digits. wet sounds reverberated through the room as you let out a silent curse.

you thought your noises were kept to a minimum, too embarrassed to really let loose, but as soon as he curled his fingers in you—easily finding that spongey sweet spot—a proper moan ripped itself out of you. and then his tongue was back on your clit, not as firmly as you would’ve liked but enough to draw out more moans and whimpers.

at first, he took his time, fingers thrusting in and out of you at a frustrating pace, tongue only lightly brushing over your swollen pearl. but soon enough, he sped up gradually until he reached a speed that had you crying out and arching your back with every inch that he moved. all the while san muttered encouragement into your ear.

“mhm, you’re taking his fingers so well, princess.”

“can’t wait to have my cock in your tight little pussy. don’t worry, we’ll make it fit.”

“look at you, being fucked dumb just from his fingers. you can barely even keep your eyes open, huh?”

you thought you were controlling yourself well but the moment wooyoung added a third finger, the stretch burning just slightly though your wetness kept things moving smoothly, the moment san spoke all those filthy words in your ear, you felt yourself crashing over the edge. it all felt so good you didn’t even realise you were climaxing until you felt yourself shaking and stars swarming your vision.

a high pitched cry ripped through your lips, moaning wooyoung’s name as he takes his fingers out so he can slurp up your release, groaning against you. you tasted so good and if he could, he would have bottled up all the sounds you made to listen to them before bed every night. san planted tender kisses to your jaw and shoulder as wooyoung eventually removed himself.

he looked almost as fucked out as you, drunk of the juices of your pussy as he slowly got up. he took your face in his clean hand and eagerly pressed his lips against yours, making you moan as you tasted yourself on his tongue. the two of you made out slowly, sloppily, and he slowly trailed his hands down. tracing the curve of your waist before settling his hands on your hips, guiding them to grind over san’s length.

you followed his lead, arching your back to position your pussy right over his erection. that seemed to have made san lose all his composure, rasping out harshly, “woo, please lift her up for a moment.”

moments later, you were back in his lap, this time his long cock buried deep in your cunt. his hands guided your movements, his thrusts matching the pace of the roll of your hips. though he wasn’t able to see your face, fucking you in a reverse cowgirl position, he could image how fucked out you looked. cheeks painted red, glazed over eyes, swollen lips, messed up hair.

wooyoung separated his lips from you, chuckling against your mouth. you struggled to kiss him, san feeling so good in you that you had a hard time thinking straight. “does he feel good, babydoll?”

you nodded and leaned forward just slightly to attach you lips to his pretty neck, mindlessly kissing and licking your way down to his collarbones. wooyoung tilted his head back, another dark chuckle. he thought you were so cute—making sure to give him attention even though you were bouncing in another man’s dick. said man groaned and slumped back in the seat at the change of angle as you leaned forward, not pausing his movements once. ever since he first bottomed out in you he had trouble putting together sentences.

your fingers fiddled with the buttons of his shirt. most of them were undone anyway, he liked it like that when he wore button-ups, but you wanted it completely off. he noticed your trembling hands struggling and took over for you, ignoring the buttons and just pulling off the shirt. your eyes roamed over him, jaw slack.

“you’re so pretty, woo.” you whispered after burying your face in his neck again, any filter you had on your words completely gone.

“i think you’re pretty too, doll,” he chuckled into your ear. “so pretty getting off on me and sannie at once.”

you leaned back and looked him over, darting between his eyes and the erection straining against the trousers with pleading, half closed eyes. it didn’t take a genius to figure out what you wanted, making him coo as he understood you.

“oh, you want my cock? you wanna suck it? just one shoved inside you doesn’t satisfy you enough, huh, you pretty little slut?”

your head empty, unable to focus on anything other than the two men you were trapped between, you nodded. san groaned as he felt your walls clench around him.

“fuck- she likes that.”

“is that so?” wooyoung straightened up and grinned down at you, holding your jaw in his hand. “well, then, go ahead, doll, do as you please.”

at he sound of his permission, your hands found their way to his trousers, undoing the fly and letting them fall to the ground. you could already see the shape of it through his boxers, but didn’t pause to inspect it, hooking your fingers on his waistband and pulling it down to release him.

while his length was impressive, it didn’t look quite as long as san’s but rather thicker. compared to every dick you’ve seen, you decided jung wooyoung had a pretty one. the blushing tip leaked precum that you smeared around to stroke him slowly.

you looked up at him every time you tried something new with your hands, looking for his reaction—running your thumb over his tip, squeezing lightly as your hand moved down. no mater what you did, it elicited a deep moan from him. you looked entranced as you watched the way his eyelids fluttered in pleasure. you leaned forward (both you and san moaning and shuddering at the change in angle), pressing a kiss to his tip.

this new angle had san pounding against your sweet spot repeatedly without fail, making you suddenly feel like jello. still, you tried your best to focus on the task literally at hand.

wooyoung noticed your lack of concentration, threading his fingers in your hair and gently pulling to make you look up. he pouted at you mockingly. “can’t think straight enough with sannie’s cock stuffed in you? it’s ok, doll, you look so pretty and fucked out i could cum just from looking at you.”

you shook your head and pushed forward, wrapping your lips around his tip and sinking your mouth down on his length to the best of your abilities.

wooyoung groaned, “that’s it, doll, there you go. you can take just a little more, can’t you, pretty girl?”

eager to please him, you took as much of him in your mouth as you could. you felt him hit the back of your throat and pulled back, coughing around his length. he slipped his hand out of your hair and stroke your cheek, prompting you to glance up at him.

“you’re doing well, doll, just remember to breathe through your nose. i know you can take me just a bit deeper.”

you nodded at his words, swallowing a little more, and wrapped a hand around the rest that you couldn’t fit, stroking him slowly as you led your mouth get used to the feeling. truth be told, you hadn’t given anyone head before, completely relying on your intuition now.

“yeah, there you go, my pretty little doll. i knew you could do it.”

as you mouth worked on wooyoung, you felt that familiar knot tightening in your abdomen. san must’ve been close too, letting out a hearty groan as he gripped your hips tighter and thrusted up into you faster. every time he pulled you down and snapped his hip up to meet you, the lewd sound of his skin slapping against your and his balls hitting your clit had you whining against wooyoung’s cock.

he sucked in a sharp breath, shuddering before cooing down at you. “what was that, doll? i couldn’t quite hear you.”

you continued with the sucking and stroking until you thought it was impossible, repeatedly shaking too much to keep a steady pace. but you could tell wooyoung was close judging by his sounds and pulsating, and still wanting to please him, you kept your lips around his head as you hand stroked him as fast as you could.

moments later, his body tensed and he came into your mouth. the thick, slightly salty substance ran down your throat as you swallowed it all down. when you were sure he was done, you pulled yourself off him. wooyoung looked ready to pass out, leaning against the desk and staring up at the ceiling as he panted, catching his breath. silent curses left his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut.

now with wooyoung taken care of, you leaned back against san, revelling in the feeling of him pounding into you as you felt yourself coming closer and closer to the edge. you heard him gasp by your ear and you clenched down on him.

“f-fuck… i’m gonna cum.”

oh how san loves fucking you. loves the way your walls flutter around his cock. loves all the sounds you make that he was sure you weren’t even aware of. how you writhe and jerk and shudder and whine and moan and he could go on for days.

“please, sannie,” you whined softly, “please, fill me up, please please please.”

that was the last straw. the desperation in your voice has his stomach flipping and he came just as you finished your begging. a shiver ran down your spine as your body went limp. he kept himself buried in you as one of his hands slide down to rub quick and tight circles on your clit, quickly bringing you to an orgasm that had your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

once all three of you calmed down and got cleaned up, you found yourself relaxing on san’s lap again. this time, you were on one of the couches in the living room as wooyoung sat beside you. while you were in the shower, he cooked up some instant noodles, feeding them to you now.

a hand stroked the outside of your thigh comfortingly as you slurped down the last of the noodles, you recognised it as san’s hand. your legs still felt like jello and you cuddled into him as wooyoung got up to put the bowl away. you felt san press a kiss to the top of your head, practically cradling you.

“you did well, my little blue bird,” he whispered against the crown of your head and pulled you closer, “i could stay like this all day.”

“too bad because it’s my turn now.” wooyoung buckled as he returned, collapsing on the couch and snatching you of san’s grasp without warning. he stuck his tongue out at san as he held the back of you head and pressed your face into the crook of his neck, making you giggle.

san whined and reached his hands out to grab you again only to be swatted away by woo. “hey! no fair.”

“yes, it is fair,” wooyoung giggled, “you’ve had her on your lap long enough.” his best friend glared at him and muttered something under his breath as he looked away with his arms crossed.

“oh, you big baby,” you laughed as you turned your head to look at him. extending you hand to pat his knee.

san’s eyes flashed as an idea lit up in his head. he grinned as he wrapped his arms around both you and wooyoung. you weren’t sure how it happened but next thing you knew, all three of you were laying down on the couch, the two men sandwiching you lovingly.

you felt yourself blush and your brain going blank. wooyoung laughed at the expression on your face, leaning forward to kiss you until san reached over and flicked his forehead. they proceeded to argue about who should be able to kiss you more as you sighed contentedly. you realised there was no other place in earth you’d prefer to be in more than right here, nestled between the two men who you knew would take good care of you.

networks. @cromernet @blankjournal

taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @hee0soo

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arminsumi · 3 months

Text

🔞 𝐀𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐓𝐨-𝐁𝐞 𝐄𝐱-𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 | 𝟐

<- 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯.

𝟑.𝟔𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 / 𝟕 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : fem reader / Gojo Satoru / (Geto Suguru)

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨��𝐬𝐢𝐬 : your ex-boyfriend claims he isn't a playboy anymore, but is he being genuine? Another date with him leaves you a mess, and you end up asking his best friend out for coffee.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : angst, pining, drama, smut (cr**mpies, light degradation, name calling (sl*t and wh*re), c*nnilingus, bl*wjob in the backseat/risky), implied sexual relationship with Suguru

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐦𝐞 : Heaven and Back | Often | Wine Pon You | New Rules

You walk out of your bedroom gussied up, lips painted in a very specific shade of red.

And Shoko, laid on the couch tiredly, gapes in disbelief at you.

"Oh my god." she groans, "Please don't tell me you're going on another date with that playboy."

You act dumb, nervously touching your neck as you style your hair in the mirror some more.

"What?"

"You're wearing the Gojo Satoru lipstick."

You continue acting, "This isn't the 'Gojo Satoru' lipstick, I love this lipstick! I always wear this shade!"

She looks at you, dumbfounded by your acting, nearly laughing.

"No, that's the Gojo Satoru lipstick. I can distinctly recall his words; "That's my baby's lipstick on me." and how you giggled on his shoulder."

"Shoko, that was five years ago." you say, "It's fine. I promised him only one more date. He needs closure."

"He's had five years of closure." Shoko replies, "Angel, you're too good for him."

"He's changed!" you insist.

"No, he hasn't; I saw that look in his eyes when I saw you two on the couch. He's still a playboy, and he'll prove it to you soon enough." she says.

"I have faith in him." you say.

"How many times have I heard that?" she shakes her head, getting ready to have a smoke. "You know, Gojo Satoru has always gotten what he wants. That's why he's so fascinated by the new you; you're not giving yourself to him like you did back then."

"I have faith in him!" you emphasize. "God, just tell me I look good."

"..."

"Please. I'm nervous. He's high-class, you know. I feel like I'm going on a date with the president of the world."

Shoko sighs and heads towards the balcony to smoke.

"You look too good." she says earnestly. "He was right about that shade of lipstick on you."

Her compliment makes you light up significantly.

You fuss as you wait. Since Shoko asks, you tell her; "He ordered for someone to chauffeur me."

"Oh my god." she groans, "He's really buttering you up."

"But isn't it such a gentleman move!"

"... more like a rich boy flex." she mutters under her breath, stubbing out the end of her cigarette.

"Okay. I've got to go. See you later... um, unless I overnight by him, of course." you giggle dreamily.

"Condoms." Shoko says simply.

"He's got some."

"Bring your own, always."

"But I'm on birth control, and we've already — " you begin.

Shoko cuts you off, "I know, but have you ever heard about the whole "creampies make you fall in love" thing?"

"What?" you look dumbly. "Isn't that a myth?"

"No. Coming inside is affectionate. You're going to feel connected to him and then he'll dip when you become "too serious" for him. Just keep him at bay."

You give her advice consideration, and nod. "Okay, alright. I won't let him do it inside."

*****

While being chauffeured, you rehearse in your head how to greet your ex-boyfriend — but it doesn't help, because as soon as you're actually in his presence again, your mind goes blank and you start nervously touching at your neck and giggling to cope with his charm.

From the moment Satoru takes your hand and leads you into the restaurant, you feel like a VIP. It's such a familiar feeling; in your early twenties, when you and him dated, he showed you what it meant to be really rich.

And he was excited to shower you in lavish treatment, he loved to see you decorated in his diamonds and to see your bright smile on foreign beaches.

The effect he has on you is even noticed by the waiter, who tends to your secluded table on the rooftop. You and Satoru feel like you're in your own bubble.

"I'm serious." he says honestly, looking into your eyes.

"... you break my heart, then disappear for five years, and then come back asking for marriage." you shake your head, "Doesn't that sound insane to you? Can't you understand why I'm rejecting you?"

"I've changed."

You hum skeptically.

"Really." he tilts his head, he flicks his brow giving his expression that sad little look that really sells it for you.

"If we got married, how long would it last?"

"What do you mean? We'd be wed 'till we're dead." he grins.

You shake your head and smile at him, poking at your plate. A long silence passes.

"... let me think about it."

"... okay." his spirits lift. "But don't make me wait too long; I'm impatient." he teases.

"Too bad. I'm gonna take my time." you sass, biting a piece of meat off your fork to make a statement.

He grins at you.

*****

Food all eaten, dessert long gone. The night air feels good. Not like old times, but new times with an old lover. He knows he messed up, right? So why hasn't he apologized yet? Maybe, you theorize to yourself to justify him, maybe he's still thinking up an apology.

He stares at you from across the table, eyes hungry like a starved wolf.

"You look so good tonight." he says for the third time.

You giggle in response, "Stop..."

"I swear that shade of lipstick looks familiar." he teases, leaning over the table.

You can smell his cologne, and it entrances your heart.

"... is it?" you ask softly, pretending like you don't know what he's talking about.

He knows you're pretending, he thinks it's cute.

"You think it would look good on me too?" he asks.

You shrug like a ditzy princess, "I dunno. Wanna find out...?"

He's so quick to call the waiter for the bill, like there's a pressing issue that needs his attention.

But the only pressing issue is his hard-on pressing hot against his thigh.

*****

Giving his cock all your attention in the backseat of the car, Satoru forces his moans down so that his poor chauffeur doesn't hear through the screen divider.

You stifle a slurping sound, sliding off the tip of his cock slowly, and it makes him shudder hard. He closes his eyes, like that helps any, and tries to keep from cumming in your mouth right there.

Gojo knows your lipstick stains are going all over his cock, it drives him crazy.

Before he cums, you pull off and he mutters a small "Just you wait..." under his breath that makes you smile wide.

****

Kissy marks lead up his abs. Of course, he wants to take a photo — to preserve the memory.

"Hand here, baby. Good girl." he instructs, and in his voice right then you can hear how mature he is now, in comparison to the squeakier voice he had when you two first met.

He's not a boy anymore, he's a man. But very far from being your man, which he's trying to change.

"Lay back." he murmurs. "Spread your legs. Wider. Good girl."

Without saying a thing about it, he noses in between your thighs and shows you heaven is real, and it exists on Gojo Satoru's tongue.

"Fuck!" you clamp your thighs around his head, making him hum while sliding his tongue inside.

When you two first dated, he wasn't inexperienced — but he didn't quite know how to eat a woman out.

Five years is a long time to practice, and he definitely did. You can feel his sloped nose nudging against your clit as he kisses and sucks, sometimes nibbling softly with his teeth at your puffy lips.

Making you cum on his tongue is almost too easy for Satoru, he nearly laughs as he pulls away and licks your slick off his lips. He thinks it's a pity that he's at the wrong angle to see your eyes rolling back. But at least he sees how you throw your head back for him, and how you sound for him — like a cat, he loves it.

"Nice and messy for me now, huh?" he hums, connecting his body with yours as he crawls upwards and devours your lips.

"Mhm!" you whine, still unsteady from your orgasm, breathing frantically. "Satoru, I need you in me right now."

"Aw, but I was gonna — "

"Nowww!" you beg.

He sighs, "Can't say no to that face."

You watch intently, licking your lips, as he whips his belt off and takes his cock out. It's red from the tip down to the middle, where that familiar thick vein always catches your attention.

By your request, even though it confuses him, he squeezes his cock into a condom.

"What do you need, baby?" he asks, lowering his cock onto your pussy and rubbing it between your slicked lips.

You squeal as he flicks at your clit, then pinches your folds around his cock, making you realize his size in comparison to little you.

"I need you."

"Need me how?"

"Satoru!" you hiss annoyedly.

"I don't want to have to tease you, baby just say it."

"I want your cock inside me."

"Not nearly slutty enough." he shakes his head, drawing his cock back and forth, rubbing over your soft pussy. "You said to me in the car that you were a total, fucking slut for me, didn't you say that? Or am I imagining things?"

You start babbling, "Yeah! I'm a slut for you, I want it so bad!" you whine, "C'mon fuck me stupid!"

"That's better." he grins.

Just like how he always does, he presses his tip inside you so politely but then pushes it in too deep, making you curl like you're about to cum.

Satoru's not one to go slow for long, he'd rather pound into you hard and fast right away, to bring out that slut in you as quick as he can. Because right now, you're not nearly slutty enough for him, as he said — and he needs to see that side of you.

"Baby, get loud for me, come on." he grunts, shoving himself as deep as he can, reaching the spot that you know isn't the G-spot or your cervix, but something in-between.

"Fuck!" you almost cry, "That's so good, fuck me harder please!"

He grins, cheeky fangs on display, and goes harder until you can hardly handle it. You don't care if it hurts just a little bit, because you want to know that every inch of your ex's cock is inside you. Not just eight, eight and a half — honestly, he doesn't know where you put all of that, but he delights in watching it disappear into your hole.

"Look at you." he purrs, "How deep are you trying to suck me?"

It feels like he's going to split you in two. Sweat pours out of the both of you, bodies getting slippery.

As Satoru continues pumping his cock back and forth, in and out of you, he starts furrowing his brows together in focus — playful edge dulling as it always does when it feels good good.

"That's it, you fucking take it." he grunts, "Good girl, you're a good little slut for me huh?"

"Yeahhh I'm a good little slut for you!"

"Let me take the condom off, baby."

You know you're gonna hear it from Shoko if she knows, but in the moment you're too drunk on sex to care, and even reach back to strip the condom off your ex's cock yourself as he watches with a smirk.

"Good girl. Now flip on your side, like this." he instructs.

He slides back inside slowly, filling you inch by inch with a low groan — like he's falling in love.

And the sounds he makes as his orgasm builds up make you want to cum again, too. Each time he hits that strange spot between your G-spot and cervix, your visions sparks a little.

Hard strokes tip you over, and you lay there letting Satoru degrade you and call you a filthy slut. You'd be his anything as long as it felt this good.

"I'm so close." he warns, trying to savor the buildup.

"Cum inside me." you mewl, "Please."

"Yeahhh I'm gonna — fuck. Take my cum, be a good girl."

The broken moan he lets out as he creampies you is almost obscene. Satoru slows his thrusts as he shoots everything he has into you.

His jaw slacks, and he groans, "... prettiest little slut, aren't you? So filthy and pretty."

"I'm gonna cum againnn..." you whine, reaching down to rub frantically on your sensitive clit.

He watches you through the haze of his post-orgasm, slowly grinding his cock inside to get you there.

"Good girl."

"C-call me a slut again, please."

He laughs naughtily, "Fucking slut. Come on, finish on me. Make that cute face again, 'cute lil' whore."

Satoru always surprises you during sex in some way, this time you're surprised when he caresses your cheek as you cum. You shake and spasm, feeling each shock of your orgasm.

Panting and coming down from your high, Satoru cracks a smile.

"You were so loud." he laughs.

Reality hits you, "Oh my god, I didn't know I liked being called a slut so much!" you cover your face embarrassedly.

He rings out with laughter.

*****

After sex. What happens after sex? He's a gentleman, and that makes you tear up — not because he's a gentleman, but because he never used to be quite like this.

No, he never used to be quite like this. Even kissing you afterwards? Why was it, you wonder, that back then he couldn't love you as deeply as now, when you needed it most?

"What's wrong?" he asks.

You try to stop your crying, but it gets worse.

"Satoru." you say, sniffling, eyes pointed downwards, "I know it's been five years, but I'm still hurt."

He doesn't reply. Just awkwardly wrings his hands and sits at the edge of the bed, soft duvet covering his lap.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't really help."

"Then what can I do?"

"I don't know." you sniffle, "Go back in time and love me. You know, I needed your love back then more than I do now." you admit to both him and yourself.

Satoru purses his lips, thinking before he speaks — but then he ends up not replying at all.

Instead, he goes to wipe your tears. Something he always did towards the end of your relationship, because you were always crying.

"I should go home."

He jolts a little. "Oh. I thought you were gonna stay the night?" he croaks. Inside, he's dreading sleeping alone again.

"No." you shake your head. "I've got to stop fooling myself. We're not getting back together, you're not more than a playboy, we're not getting married — and sex with you is better than with anyone else, but a relationship can't bank on that, Satoru."

"I'm being genuine. I told you earlier that I was."

"How can I trust you?" you ask.

"Playboys don't propose marriage." he replies.

"But you're just joking about that!"

"I'm not!" he stresses, "The last time you loved me, I was just a boy. I'm a man now and I know what I want." he says roughly.

You both go silent. Then he starts speaking again, voice softer than before.

"I love you more every time I see you."

You don't say anything back. He looks stricken and confused.

"I'm gonna go." you say.

He purses his lips tightly, looking frustrated that he can't get through to you.

"I'll take you home." he says quietly.

*****

Shoko is just digging around in the freezer for therapeutic ice cream when you come into the entry way.

"You look dreadful."

"Thanks."

"Bad date?"

"The worst..."

"Still love him?"

"... yeah."

"Marriage?"

"I'm in love, not stupid." you reply.

Shoko chuckles. "Come on. Let's catch up on that series. I'm not on-call." she cheers for herself. "We can binge the whole thing."

"Shoko, where would I be without you?" you sigh appreciatively, flopping on the couch next to her, mascara smudged off and all.

"Staying the night with a playboy, probably."

"Can't argue that." you sigh, "Shoko, I'm so dumb for him, what do I do?"

"Wait. Strike at the right moment."

"I'm not a cobra."

"Buy a cobra. Let it loose on him."

"Your humor is so dark, Shoko. I love you."

"Love you more."

*****

Meanwhile, Satoru is with Suguru; who is listening to his sulking best friend.

"I'm so dumb for her. What do I do?" he groans, "Shoko's probably poisoning her against me as we speak."

Suguru thinks deeply. "Shoko..."

"I know!" Satoru nearly starts crying again. He's being so dramatic, it's hard to take him seriously. But Satoru almost never cries. So Suguru seriously thinks about solutions to his problems.

"Shoko!" Suguru realizes.

"I knowww!"

"No, Satoru, Shoko!" Suguru emphasizes, like he's just made a breakthrough, "Shoko is the answer to all your problems!"

"Ew. I'd never date Shoko."

"You're so dense. I'm not suggesting that. Shoko's her best friend, and she listens to whatever she says, like you listen to me."

"You have a point... I'm listening."

"See?" Suguru chuckles, "Now, here's what I think you should do..."

*****

"You want me to talk to Suguru?" you shake your head. "How would that help?"

"He's his best friend. If you want to find out if Satoru's no-good, you go to the best friend."

"Suguru would rather die than expose Satoru. They're not like regular best friends, they're soulmate best friends." you say, nervously touching at your neck.

Shoko shakes her head. "Are you scared to talk to Suguru or something? What actually happened between you two back then? You never told me."

You go silent and wide-eyed. Shoko's jaw drops open.

"No way. Holy shit. Oh my god. You and him...?!"

"... it was just once."

"Holy shit! Was this before, after or during you and Satoru together?"

"I'm loyal as a dog! It was after... I was feeling, um, revengeful, and Suguru was feeling lonely one night... so..."

"Suguru actually did that?! Did Satoru find out?"

"We promised to never talk about it again. You know... Suguru was so nice about it. I remember he laid me down and said "Don't worry, just cum on my tongue" or something. Ugh, he was so hot. He fucked the life out of me — I could barely fucking see straight after."

"Too much information!" Shoko plugs her ears.

You look up at the ceiling dreamily. "He's thicker than Satoru."

"My best friend is a slut!" Shoko cries.

"I am!" you cry back dramatically.

The two of you burst out laughing wickedly.

"To sluts!" Shoko toasts with an ice cream spoon.

You toast with her, "To sluts! The sluttier the better!"

"Are you gonna talk to Suguru, then? Or are you scared of your inner slut coming out?" Shoko asks.

"I'll do it. It'll be fine. I'm sure Suguru doesn't look as good in real life as he does in photos..." you reply.

You exchange a look with her. Immediately, the two of you stalk Suguru's social medias and —

"Seriously? Who doesn't have a single social in this day and age?!" You curse, only finding photos of Suguru with Satoru.

"That's just like him."

"Maybe he has a Linkedin."

"You're desperate."

"Yeah!"

"Wait, here's something...?"

You investigate further.

"It's private?!"

Shoko bursts out laughing with ice cream melting on her tongue.

"Comedy!"

"This is seriously annoying. I'm gonna friend him." you say.

Shoko looks at you. You look at Shoko.

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

"You're CRAZY."

"I am!"

"Let me watch, let me watch."

"Okay. I'm doing it."

*****

Satoru is mixing another over-sweetened, non-alcoholic cocktail to be sipped on as if he's drinking his sorrows away.

And Suguru? He's laying on the couch, ghosting social medias that he has no account with, happily enjoying a video of traditional cuisine when suddenly he sees the most outrageous, random, and bizarre notification from his mostly-dead private account.

He makes a suspicious side-eye, thinking it can't be real.

Friend request from @ 𝐘𝐍

@ 𝐘𝐍 wants to send you a message.

@ 𝐘𝐍 hey suguru 😊

"What the fuck." he whispers under his breath, blushing in a panicked kind of way.

Immediately, hot memories of you flood his mind. He sits more upright on the couch, glances nervously to check what Satoru was doing, then looks at your message again.

His heart races.

*****

"This is stupid. He's gonna leave me on read."

"Yeah. I forgot Suguru was notorious for that." Shoko sighs. "Operation: Suguru is a failure, then?"

"Yeah."

You set your phone down and continue binge watching a whole season of a trashy series on Netflix.

Your phone vibrates thirty minutes later. You check it without thinking, then scream so loud it startles Shoko right out of her zen-like Netflix mood.

"NO WAY."

"Is it him? What did he say?"

"He said 'hey'. He's online."

"Well say something!"

You panic, "What do I say?"

"Ask him for coffee! In a non-romantic way!"

"Okay."

wanna go for coffee sometime?

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 is this about satoru or us?

it's about satoru

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 riiight

i'm serious 😠

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 because i wouldn't mind if it's about us

"WHAT." you scream with Shoko.

"REPLY TO HIM."

"I DON'T KNOW HOW."

"GIVE ME YOUR PHONE."

Shoko clacks her nails against the screen viciously, replying to him as you watch her type.

"That doesn't sound like I wrote it."

"Well sorry for being grammatically correct."

"Make it sound sillier."

"There."

Shoko sends it. You watch and wait with bated breath, ignoring the climactic scene on the TV because Suguru Geto was far more attention-grabbing.

"Oh my god." you clap your hand over your mouth. "Is that sexual? Is he being sexual?"

"I have no idea, Suguru's an enigma."

"Do you think Satoru is sitting with him? Are they playing us?"

Shoko shrugs. "I don't know, but I'd read that message if I were you."

You look back to your phone.

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 sooo coffee where and when?

"SHOKO WHAT DO I DO."

"I don't know."

"SHOKO."

"I DON'T KNOW. I'M STUNNED."

"ME TOO."

"I bet Satoru is cackling next to Suguru right now."

"I bet not. Listen to how sultry he is! That's three o's in there!"

Shoko thinks. "Yeah, but Suguru is always sultry. I think they're pulling a joke on us."

*****

Satoru is dozing off while his best friend texts you. Suguru's not resisting his smirk; it's plastered on his face.

@ 𝐘𝐍 tomorrow? 2pm sound ok? 🙈

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 sounds perfect.

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞.

926 notes · View notes

awrkive · 6 months

Text

COLD NIGHTS & BLURRED LINES (m) — JJK

jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (explicit smut, fluff, light angst) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

WORD COUNT 26.6k

WARNINGS/MISC fwb!au, college!au, basketball player!jk, kinda secret relationship(?)!au, nerdy!oc but not really she’s just very school-oriented, jk is tatted up here and is very yummy especially in his jersey sighs, hes also rich lol, school journalist!reader, jk calls oc a lot of petnames, basketball stuff im not sure are accurate t-t. multiple sex scenes honestly idek where all of these came from but they include: unprotected sex (this is a fanfiction everything tends to be crazy around these areas don’t do it irl pls omg lol), penetrative sex, creampie, cumplay, car sex, jk’s silver chain hehe, slight cockwarming, oral sex (f and m receiving), jk wears those curvy headbands thing (they look so cute on guys in fact he wore it once), shower sex. if there is anything i left out, pls tell me so that i can add them here. jungkooks visual is jungkook at jitb listening party .

NOTES if u have been following me you'll know this is a repost haha! i decided to publish this again so you can read it on tumblr if u dont like to read on ao3! also, please pleasssseee send me guys your feedbacks after reading it even a keyboard smash goes a long way anyway ill shut up now i hope you guys enjoy this monster!! last note, pls be gentle with my cn&bl babies <33

[ CN&BL MOODBOARD ]

The late March weather has been cold these days, so when Jungkook – in his real fuckboy fashion – texted you that his nose could use a heater and he could offer to warm you up in return, you agreed for him to come over even though you pretended to be disgusted by his offer.

“Hurry,” you whimper as aforementioned man manhandles you to get you off his lap, making you bounce on the mattress.

Just like that, the warmth from being pressed against his body was gone, exchanged by the cold immediately spreading goosebumps through your skin as Jungkook makes quick work of spreading your legs, eliciting a bit of an uncomfortable feeling from you as you feel your cum leaking out.

Jungkook swipes a hand through his sweaty hairline as he kneels inside your spread legs, and you have to fight a moan at the sight. You still feel a little delirious from when he made you cum the second time just a minute ago, still lightheaded from the high of it. But you can’t deny that he always looks so good in all his natural, naked form; chest heaving, toned stomach coated in sheer sweat, his biceps – especially the tatted one – bulging as he reaches for your hips to pull you down so he could enter you once again.

It tears a cry from your vocal chords, him thrusting in and out of your wet pussy, his pace frantic and inconsistent, a tell-tale sign of his impending orgasm. His grunts, together with your pathetic little moans at the feel of his cock touching every part of your pussy filled the room.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he groans, leaning down, and as a result, reaching deeper into you, mouth reaching for your breast to your mouth. The kiss is a sloppy act of both of you just breathing in each other’s mouths, as Jungkook drills your pussy faster, his fingers tightening around your waist. A particular hard thrust got you drawing out a loud mewl and that’s what tips Jungkook over the edge. “F-fuck – shit, where do I cum baby? Tell me, tell me.”

“Inside– fuck. Please cum inside me,”

He lets out a sharp breath and after a few more erratic strokes, you feel his hot release painting your inner walls.

“Shit,” Jungkook hissed as he fell on top of you. You can feel the way he’s heaving as his skin touches yours, but you let yourself relax on the mattress, breathing shallow breaths.

Since he’s way more athletic than you, he got over it soon and you feel him picking himself up to hover over you, beginning to plant kisses all over your chest and the mole in between them; your nipples, your shoulders, your collarbones.

“Kook,” you call softly, your limp hand patting his ass to get his attention. He always gets so preoccupied with kissing your body after sex.

Jungkook hums, but he looks at you. “Yeah?”

You grunt. “I jwashed my sheets two days ago and I don’t want cum stains on them.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he leans down, and even though you were complaining just now, you let out quite a joyful hum when he kisses you. “Let me see first.”

You don’t need to ask what he’s referring to.

Pushing your body back up, Jungkook takes it upon himself to get his body off of you only to watch as you slide two fingers over your pussy, spreading the lips so he can see the combination of your and his cum all over it.

“You need to hurry, Nayeon is coming home in a few minutes.”

He doesn’t even try to look like he’s concerned about the urgency of that matter, just hums absentmindedly and gets his own finger to run over your exposed heat. You shiver at the contrast of the hot feeling of your pussy and the cold feeling of his finger, but it soon turns into pleasure when he gathers your cum and pushes it back into you.

“Are you going to keep it in for me?” He whispers, a thumb now caressing your hip.

“Depends.”

Jungkook looks back up at you, a sly grin spreading on his lips. “On what?”

“If you’re going to be good and say please when you want something.” You grin at him, feeling pretty proud of yourself for catching him off guard. It doesn’t last long very much though as he smirks, but as soon as he opens his mouth, you hear a series of knocks and your eyes widen at that.

You hissed. “Shit, that’s Nayeon.”

You sit up from the bed. Jungkook mirrors your haste, scrambling to find his clothes on the floor and putting them on quickly. You have your robe just nearby so you put just that on, ignoring the tingling sensation of cum trickling down your legs.

“I have to go.” Jungkook whispers, and you nod, walking towards the window on the far end of the room and opening it up widely.

Like usual, Jungkook steps on the frame and easily hauls himself outside. It’s the backside of the building of your complex, and it’s mostly and usually quiet, so it was pretty safe for him to just go out of there without anyone noticing, and most especially at times like this. Because Nayeon can’t know. No one can.

“I’ll see you later, pretty.”

Jungkook winks at you and you playfully roll your eyes, waving him off which earns a laugh from him. He easily saunters through the perimeter though and you find it quite unfair how he still carries a certain graceful energy to him even though he literally just did an exhausting cardio exercise with you for about thirty minutes. Ugh, him and his athletic body.

Nayeon’s voice can be heard across the flat, but before you let her in, you sprayed an unhealthy amount of air freshener on your body and around the room (just in case she enters) and shoved your discarded clothes from earlier in the laundry basket. After that, you finally run towards the door, welcoming Nayeon with a smile as you open it.

“Hi!” You greet rather cheerfully. She immediately hugs you briefly, groaning as she steps back and enters your little abode.

“Class sucked today,” she throws herself on the couch and you give her a sympathetic smile, walking towards the fridge to get water.

“Well, wish me luck. I’m headed out to one.”

“God, I can’t wait ‘til we graduate, I’m tired of this bullshit.” She says, but she’s opening up her laptop for what you could guess as for finishing up an assigned work. “I wish I was having bomb sex like you. Hey, do you want to go to this party on Friday?”

“I – what?”

“Party on Friday? Finals season for basketball starts on Friday and they’re planning a party. We could use free booze and stress-free night.” Nayeon repeats, but you weren’t asking for the party. You tried to ignore it, but you have the tendency to overexpplain yourself so that you do not get misunderstood.

“I’m not having bomb sex.” You say, and that makes her look at you. At that, you realized you shouldn't have taken the bait. Stupid, stupid, stupid you. You could've swerved this topic if you weren't so quick to react at the word sex.

You stare at each other for a solid few seconds until she rolls her eyes.

“Girl, your hair looks like a bird’s nest and your lips are swollen as hell. I might not be having bomb sex in the current moment but I know what I look like after I do the deed,” She wore her eyeglasses and perched it on her nose. “And you kinda smelled like sex when you opened the door.”

“No!” You feel heat coming and spreading through your cheeks. You thought the damn Febreeze would hold up!

Nayeon waves you off. “It’s fine, it’s not like you haven’t caught me before like that.”

“It’s embarrassing.” You insist, stuffing your face with a bread you took from the counter and purposefully not meeting Nayeon’s gaze so you don’t see the teasing smiles you’re sure she’s sending your way.

“That you’re having sex in college?!” Her playful scandalous tone makes you laugh though and that’s when you look at her.

“No, ugh. Just. Sorry. If I smelled like sex. I tried spraying a lot of air freshener earlier.”

She wiggles her brows. “Oh, is that why you took a long time opening the door? Was your sneaky link here just now?”

“Sneaky what?” You say, laughing.

“Sneaky link. You know, a hook up. Wait, is it a boyfriend? Please say no, because I would be extremely offended if you haven’t introduced your boyfriend to me all this time.”

You could swear you felt goosebumps on your nape when you heard the word boyfriend and saw images of Jungkook in your head immediately, as if you were used to associating him to the word.

“It’s definitely not a boyfriend. Just… someone I hook up with sometimes.”

“Interesting. Do I know him?”

The question makes you nervous. She definitely knows. No one not knows who Jungkook is at your campus.

With a shake of your head, you tell her, straight-faced, “Nope.”

“Okay, which department? Does he go to our Uni?” She asks, now seemingly fully invested in this conversation rather than the assignment before her. You’re happy to be a bit of a help to lessen her sour mood from earlier but you shake your head and let out playful tsk-ing sounds,

“Too many questions, babe,” You teased. “My class is starting in twenty minutes.”

You heard her laughing as you carried your clothes to the bathroom to change and to clean up the mess in your nether region. Damn. Jungkook cums a lot these days… he needs to masturbate or something.

“Fine, fine! You don’t want me to know but I’m gonna find out about the mystery guy one way or another!”

Shutting the door to the bathroom, your face contorts at Nayeon’s words.

Yeah, absolutely not. Jungkook and you made an agreement in the first place that everyone should be oblivious of your situationship, and it’s worked for almost four months now.

You can’t fuck it up now.

As soon as you fixed yourself, you bid your goodbye to Nayeon who went ahead and busied herself by hacking away on her laptop, grabbing your bag and heading out and finally walking to your Uni that was just a few minutes away from your complex. Your apartment is almost like a dorm, to be honest.

The hallway is a little crowded, but you don’t miss a certain brunette in a familiar gray hoodie you’ve had in your closet before.

You meet Jungkook’s eyes but you quickly change your gaze to his friend, Taehyung, who’s walking beside him as he greets you cheerfully.

"Hey, ___!” You return his smile, waving. You had a Philo class with Kim Taehyung at one point and found out that despite your preassumptions about him for being a varsity guy, he was a pretty interesting person to talk with. You’re not super close per se, just acquainted enough to acknowledge each other when you meet somewhere like the campus hallways.

You don’t like the attention it draws, though. So you walk straight to your destination.

Varsity guys tend to be famous, and you’ve chosen to steer yourself away from them. Ironic, though, considering that you’re fucking one. Obviously, you��re not doing a very good job at “steering yourself away from them”.

Maybe it’s the sole reason why it’s a secret. Jungkook is the star player of the basketball team together with Taehyung and a few other guys. You know their usual gist. Famous circle, lavish lifestyle, attractive guys who (unfortunately) know it, skillful at the sports they do, too many people fawning over them. And well… not to be that person but you’re just someone dutifully studying here. Someone in the background. And you love that mostly, but sometimes you think that maybe… it’s why Jungkook seems to never entertain the idea of making your relationship public. Not that you would like that yourself. You took part in the secrecy agreement, suggested it yourself, in fact. You would never admit to anyone you’re fucking him. But, well. It’s just weird.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Someone’s going to end it eventually and you’re gonna make sure it’s you… just so it’s established that you aren’t the one who’s more willing in the relationship. Yeah, that. Just not now. School is stressful. You like sex with him.

When you arrive at the lecture hall, your phone vibrates. A text from Jungkook is plastered all over your lock screen.

[1:15pm] Jeon: hi pretty [1:15pm] Jeon: nice skirt :)

You internally roll your eyes. Him and his literal and figurative skirt chaser tendencies.

[1:20pm] You: Hi.

You get a reply immediately.

[1:20pm] Jeon: wanna grab dinner later

You stare at his text, a little taken aback.

That’s new. Sure, you had grabbed lunch with him at his stupid fancy Benz like, once. After he fucked you in it to ease your nerves about a class presentation you did earlier that day. He didn’t offer, he just bought you Chinese because you passed by a resto as he drove you to your place.

Anyway. You don’t know why he would do this all of a sudden. You fucked three days ago, then the day after that, then earlier this day. You’re not complaining but you never predicted your sex life would be so active like this.

[1:22pm] You: Pass. Studying later

Which is true. You have a Tech Writing quiz tomorrow, though not necessarily hard. Whatever. Your thoughts in the hallway awhile ago are making you feel kind of weird about him right now.

[1:23pm] Jeon: boring [1:23pm] You: ):< [1:23pm] Jeon: cute :) do u want me to order boba ill deliver it to ur place after ur class

Well, that is definitely not new. Jungkook delivers you food, like, every single time.

[1:24pm] You: :))) Yess. Thank you [1:24pm] You: I’m going to venmo you [1:25pm] Jeon: lol yk im just gonna venmo it back to u

True. There’s been a lot of back and forth in that app. One time, he “jokingly” sent you a hundred dollars (a hundred dollars!) after you kept on insisting you pay for the takoyaki he made delivered to you, and that horrified you so much that of course you sent the money back to him, but he made you promise to stop trying to argue with him about the payment thing. It doesn’t mean you don’t feel bad about it still though…

[1:25pm] You: 😤😠 [1:27pm] Jeon: do u also want anything besides boba [1:27pm] You: Noppee, I think Nayeon is going to cook something for us later [1:28pm] Jeon: alright [1:28pm] You: Are you sure you don’t want me to pay you back? [1:28pm] Jeon: nahh it’s alright [1:28pm] Jeon: besides I can think of other ways for u to pay me back without money involved.. ;)

Ah, there he is. He really couldn’t go on a day without sexual innuendos.

[1:29pm] You: You are infuriating and I’m turning off mh phone [1:29pm] You: *my [1:29pm] Jeon: you like when I annoy you so .. [1:29pm] You: No I don’t and Im so sore i feel like my brain will leak out of my ears from so much sex [1:29pm] You: Also please stop using ellipsis in texts [1:29pm] Jeon: hmm [1:29pm] Jeon: who said anything about sex? [1:30pm] Jeon: not me🤔 do u think i just think about sex all the time [1:30pm] Jeon: what’s worng with ellipsis…? [1:32pm] You: Yes you do think about sex all the time

He reacted to that message with the HAHA emoticon, and you felt yourself having a hard time fighting an eyeroll.

[1:32pm] Jeon: you know me so well [1:32pm] You: Also, nothing wrong with ellipsis they just remind me of how my dad texts [1:32pm] Jeon: ummmmm im sure ur dad is great so im flattered

You snorted at that.

[1:33pm] You: you do NOT know that [1:33pm] Jeon: i thought you were turning off your phone [1:34pm] You: I am right now so don’t reply prof is walking to the lecture hall now [1:35pm] Jeon: good luck baby ;)

Nayeon didn’t convince you enough to join her at the party she mentioned before come Friday night. In a weird parallelism, Jungkook also texted you about a party you could come to, and eventually, you’ve come to realize that it was his party. Their party.

Your Uni’s basketball team held a celebratory one because they won the first game of Finals. You only knew when you went to the school’s publication office earlier. The freshman sports journalist, Ryujin, came to you to ask you some questions about her rough draft about said game.

You see, this is one of those times when you are reminded that Jungkook and you really only have a relationship through sex. Sure, you know some stuff about each other. Like how you are an English major, he’s taking Computer Science, you’re the managing director of the school’s publication, he’s a star player in the basketball team; he knows about your favorite takoyaki flavor (it’s smoked bacon) and your boba order, and you know he likes food that you dislike, namely cheese cake and mint chocolate flavored stuff. He also likes Marvel a lot. He knows you’re obsessed with films from the golden age of Hongkong cinema because you mentioned it in passing. (He doesn’t know you particularly love the Wong Kar-wai ones though…)

But somehow, he never really tells you about his basketball games. Sure, he’d mentioned practices before but it’s something he doesn’t bother to include you in. Not that it would matter to you. It’s not like you tell him all about your stuff in school, either.

Your attention is caught by a ping from your phone.

[12:05am] Jeon: hey you still up?

The text reads. You type a reply.

[12:07am] You: Yes, why? [12:07am] Jeon: let’s facetime [12:07am] You: Why [12:08am] Jeon: i want to see your pretty face

Spoken like a true fuckboy. Really?

Before you could respond, his face is taking up your whole screen, asking to facetime you. Without thinking about it too much, you accepted the call, falling back to your bed.

From the screen, you could see that he’s wearing a black shirt with a long silver chain around his neck. He smiles that adorable smile when you finally make your whole face visible to the camera.

“What is it?”

The audio from his end is a little distorted, probably from the loud music from where he’s at. That after-game party, most likely. He texted you about it awhile ago. Nayeon is probably there, too.

“Hi, pretty girl.”

Again with the nickname and the slight way his eyes are hooded as he said it. If you squint enough, maybe you could tell if he’s drunk or not. You’re not sure. But the way that’s his instant words upon seeing you is making you feel a little weird in your stomach. He’s got to stop calling you that.

“Are you drunk-calling me right now…?"

He shakes his head and says something, but you don’t hear it, so you informed him so. The screen shows you dark, pixelated images, making you think he’s probably moving his camera around, and you could make out that he’s walking away from the party as the loud music fades out eventually.

"I’m not drunk.” He says after he settles on a spot.

“Oh, okay.” You nod. You shifted on your side. “Why did you call me?"

He laughs at that. "I can’t call you?"

His laughter intensifies when he sees you roll your eyes. "No. I’m just wondering… aren’t you at a party?"

Jungkook nods his head. "Yes, but it’s getting boring here."

"Oh.”

Another beat of silence, but Jungkook is the one to say another word.

“Hey, do you wanna go out for a drive?"

Well… that sounds good. You just finished a write-up and did some studying a little earlier and you also planned to order food but forgot about it.

"Sure.”

Jungkook smiles at that.

“I’ve been wanting to show you something. I think you’ll like it."

Your eyebrow arched at that. This is getting a little too new. He’s driven you around before but it always involved fucking, not done with the intention to show you something. Not that you aren’t expecting sex tonight, though. You would actually appreciate that.

"What is it?"

You could make out a smirk from Jungkook’s face on the slightly pixelated screen. "I’m going to show you the real me.” The glint of mischief in his tone cracks you up, so you played right into it,

“Ohhh, does it involve dead bodies?"

He nods with a serious face. "Yes, but you have to promise me you won’t freak out."

"Yeah, and don’t you freak out if I tell the police about it.” You squint your eyes, trying to give him a scolding look.

“Ah,” Jungkook leans back. “You would do that, wouldn’t you? You’re always such a good girl."

It wouldn’t have meant anything if it wasn’t for the way his voice drops, giving you a meaningful look again. You could feel the heat in your cheeks but you shrug it off.

"I am a good girl, I pride myself for it."

Jungkook finally laughs this time, finding this conversation hilarious just as you do. "I know, I like it most especially—"

After all this time, you developed a sort of a Spidey sense for when Jungkook is about to say perverted things, so before he could make such remarks, you cut him off.

"If you’re gonna say something sexual I’m going to end this call.” But even you could tell it was an empty threat.

Jungkook thinks so, too, you know that, but he decides to step back. “I was just going to say that I like it most especially because it does good to the world."

The mirth in his eyes tells you otherwise.

"You do not think that.” You say, rolling your eyes.

He laughs once more, throwing his head back as if you said the funniest joke in the world. Weirdo.

“Alright, alright. So I’m coming to your place in five minutes to pick you up. How does that sound?"

"Good. Nayeon’s currently out… just text me if you get here."

He told you to end the call – which you argued you were just planning to do so and he didn’t need to tell you and it earned a laugh from him, how stubborn you were about such simple things. You just gave him a baleful look.

Just as you pick out a sweatshirt and some sweats in exchange for your pajama dress, you receive a text from Jungkook that he’s arrived and so you grab your wallet and keys and your phone, heading out.

You spot his car and knock on the passenger’s seat window and Jungkook immediately opens it for you.

"Hi, gorgeous.” He greets you. “You want to keep the window open?"

"Hello. Yes, please.” You say, fixing your seat belt.

He hums and you press on a button to slide the window open.

“You want to pick up some food?"

You perked up. "Yeah, I was planning to get some but I was too lazy to order in earlier."

Jungkook pressed some buttons again you don’t really understand but it got music to start playing, lights in the car moving into the same beat of the tune (his car was really fancy…). Some mellow ones you kind of liked during this drive on a cold night. He saw a food place from around a corner and you both agreed to get food from the shop.

He parked somewhere for you guys to open up the take-out. There’s some steamed tofu there so you pick it up and start eating.

"I’ve been obsessed with tofu these days,” you shared absentmindedly, chewing on said food.

Jungkook looks at the tofu you were eating. “Really? I remember when you said you dislike it."

"Yeah, but that’s because I cooked it one time and it sucked."

"I should teach you to cook one of these days…” you refused to acknowledge what that entails and laughed instead.

“You know how?” You said to tease, but you also genuinely can’t believe he knows how.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, a faux offended look on his face, saying, “Why do I always get that reaction? Of course I know how to cook."

"Huh,” you pondered. “Wouldn’t have expected it from you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But I have this friend who’s a really good cook and I kinda learned through him."

"That’s cute. Nayeon knows how to cook and I never learned shit from it.” You laugh at your own words, so does Jungkook. “But hey,"

"Hm?"

"Do you think my boobs got bigger? I think they got bigger.” You put your food down your lap and caress your breasts through your clothes.

You’ve been thinking about it since last week. Earlier, you saw yourself naked in your mirror and noticed a change in their size. You almost thought you were pregnant but your period literally just ended yesterday. But can that happen with pregnancies? But… you’re very diligent with your pills… so it can’t be. Right?

You made a mental note to buy a test tomorrow.

“Look the same to me.” Jungkook says, looking at your chest.

You grab his free hand and put it over a boob. He squeezes it promptly, and you hear an almost dramatic gasp.

“Oh, they are bigger."

You remove his hand over you and nod. "Yeah. But I think it’s just due to some hormonal changes. Also I think I’m putting on weight, I’ve been eating a lot these days… but… it’s stupid but I also think my obsession with tofu has something to do with it,"

Jungkook looks over at you curiously.

"Yeah, they say tofu makes your boobs bigger." You added.

He arches a brow at that. "Really?"

"Don’t look so excited."

Jungkook can’t help but huff out a laugh. "I do not!” You roll your eyes. He insists, “I love your boobs the way they are."

"Geez, thanks."

You finished your food and Jungkook drove around again. It’s still in the vicinity of your town. The music in his car serves as a lulling noise in the otherwise quiet night. There’s still a lot of cars on the streets, some occasional honking sounds, but you feel really, really nice, most especially when the wind blows a little harsher and it makes your hair go crazy. Jungkook laughs at that too.

It’s later in the night when Jungkook slowed down somewhere, and soon, he was parking at an abandoned house.

As if on cue, you looked at him and said, "So you really are going to show me your literal skeletons."

He laughed at that.

"Nope, sorry to disappoint, princess."

Jungkook gets out of the car and you follow, immediately shivering at the wind. You wished you wore a hoodie instead of this thin, knitted sweatshirt, but you didn’t expect it would be this cold. It was nearing summer and the weather has been inconsistent for the last month.

You look at the abandoned house once again. There were wooden planks nailed on the door, plastic covers draped over the windows, and overall, it just looks really old. Kind of creepy, if you were to be honest.

In your assessment of the house, you don’t notice Jungkook coming to you with two bottles of soju. He brings them up slightly, a grin on his face.

"Drinks?”

“Okay…” you squint your eyes. “Where are we going to do that?"

He gives you a knowing smirk. "Inside."

Jungkook went over the fence with ease and you followed his direction but didn’t do the same thing. He looks back at you. "Hey."

"Are you sure it’s safe?” You ask, looking around, wrapping your arms around your middle because of the cold.

Jungkook probably notes the genuine concern in your tone, that’s why he sets the soju down and comes forward to you, the fence serving as some kind of dramatic border.

“Baby, it’s fine. No one comes around here.” He says but you don’t really feel assured just yet.

“What if someone comes here now? I don’t want to be arrested…"

"No one’s getting arrested,” Jungkook insists. You still look hesitant. “Come on. Really. I’ve been here lotta times, haven’t ever seen anyone here since then."

You look at him. He seems to be telling that truth and well, maybe you’re stupid for believing him but he seemed to know this place well and had been going here for a long time and as far as you know, he doesn’t have criminal records, so…

"Okay, fine.” You give in.

Jungkook immediately grins. “Nice. Here, let me help you.” He leans forward and takes a hold of your hips as you go over the fence. It’s not that high, really, but you let him carry you over it until you both entered the abandoned property.

When he puts you down, you tug at his shirt.

“Wait, your car.” you gasp.

“Oh, it’s fine. I parked it at that green house, someone’s just gonna assume it’s theirs.” He says, completely nonchalant about it.

You think he’s being careless about his fucking Benz but whatever.

Jungkook leads you to the back of the creepy house and the eerie place immediately gives you goosebumps. The cold of the night does not help, either, so you cling to him until he sits on the ground.

“Jungkook, that’s dirty.” You tell him, trying to tug him up.

He chuckles. “It’s fine, princess. Come here, I’ll take my jacket off. Sit beside me.” Indeed, he takes off his jacket, and you worry he might be cold with his t-shirt only now but you also really don’t want to sit on the ground…

“You’re not cold?” You make sure as you sit beside him. Jungkook opens one of the soju and offers it to you. You take it as he opens another one for himself.

“Nah, it’s fine.” Jungkook starts drinking but even though you have one in your hand, you don’t. He must’ve noticed it as he says, “Hey. Relax.”

“Aside from my fear of getting arrested, it’s also really fucking creepy here.” You retort, scooting closer to him. You got to be honest and admit that you’re more scared of the place than scared of getting arrested.

Jungkook throws his head back to laugh at that. “Again, we’re not getting arrested. And what do you mean creepy? You don’t like it here?"

You look around the place more. "Eh, it’s okay. I just can’t help but think what if there are lost souls around here…” you trailed off, giving him a baleful look when that only made him laugh more. They were quiet laughter, though. Probably to not disrupt said souls.

“You believe those?"

You roll your eyes. "Okay, cool macho guy."

"No, no, I’m sorry,” Jungkook still laughs in between his words and you whisked his hand away in an act of lighthearted sulking when it tried to reach you.

Okay. You don’t exactly believe in ghosts but it’s hard not to when it’s in the middle of the night and quiet and cold and you’re in an abandoned house. You avoid horror movies for a valid reason.

“Alright, let’s cuddle so you don’t get scared.” Jungkook says, but there’s a teasing sound to it.

“Don’t make fun.” You glared at him.

“I’m serious, come here.” He opens his arms wide and you roll your eyes, not moving to come closer. He laughs when even after seconds passed you still didn’t give in. You thought he was giving up but instead he twisted to your direction and let both his legs crowd you so that you’re in between them.

“You’re annoying,” you say but you kind of feel oddly comforted by being close to him like that, and Jungkook must’ve known as well because he just gives you a smug smile, chugging on his soju after.

You did the same. You try to throw away your nerves and scary thoughts, letting yourself relax as he said. When you kind of did a moment later, you find that it’s kind of nice, actually.

“What do you think?” Jungkook suddenly speaks.

“Hm?"

"It’s nice here, right?” He arched his brow at you. “Just try not to think about ghosts."

You pinch his shin through his cargo pants and he gives you a very ingenuine, "Ouch!"

"Except for the ugly house, it’s nice here.” You reply. As you look up, you see stars scattered across the dark skies. It was quite a view, honestly. Makes you a little surprised because it was so beautiful. You almost missed Jungkook’s words.

“Yeah. It’s not exactly beautiful here but it’s a great place to think."

"Think?"

Jungkook sees your teasing smile and shakes his head. "Yes, baby, I do a lot of those."

You chuckle at that and drink more of your alcohol.

You don’t exchange more words after that but you find that it wasn’t awkward. It was just… a nice silence. A comfortable one. With Jungkook crowding you with his legs, you feel like you might be the most relaxed you’ve ever been in the past few months.

You twist yourself so now you’re not facing forward anymore, but to Jungkook. You realize if he’d been looking forward he just had a view of your side profile. You try not to think too much if he just stared at you, although you did feel him do that for a few minutes a while ago.

"Hey, congrats on the game.” You tell him with a soft smile on your face, placing your drink on the ground. It’s still filled in half. You could finish it but you doubt you wouldn’t be drunk by that time. Your alcohol tolerance is not at all exemplary.

“Thanks.” Jungkook sheepishly smiles at you. “You watched it?"

"Ah, no. I just heard about it. I don’t really know anything about basketball so…” you trail off, noting the way he nods at your words.

“Right. I’ve never seen you watch us before.”

You try to joke, “That’s because you never invite me to any of your games."

But it looks like that caught him off guard. "I– huh?” The look on his eyes tells you that he was genuinely surprised at your words, those eyes of him looking like a deer’s when it’s caught in the headlights.

You laugh. “I’m just kidding. I don’t usually watch sports games. Too crowded for my liking."

Jungkook nodded at that, but he still looked taken aback from your words earlier. You really were just kidding. You hope he didn’t take it seriously. But he agrees with you, anyway. "Yeah, it can get crowded sometimes."

Silence and then after a few beats, Jungkook speaks again.

"Hey, let’s make out."

You arched a brow but didn’t really find any reason to oppose it, so you went ahead and kissed him.

Jungkook immediately holds your hips. On the other hand, you snake your arms around his neck, kneeling in between his spread legs. The kiss starts slow but he holds the back of your neck and deepens it.

You whimpered when he nudged your legs with his free hand, and your shock made you break away from the kiss. Jungkook took it as an opportunity to start pecking your neck, though, his hand seemingly coaxing you to open your legs. You got the message and finally straddled his waist, Jungkook groaning and you moaning when you feel your crotches connecting at the action.

He was already sporting a semi, and you also feel your panties getting slick from the way he kissed and bit and licked and soothed your neck.

"Jungkook,” you moaned, searching for his mouth.

He kissed you again, all tongue and so sloppy, his hand reaching for the hem of your sweatshirt and creeping inside it to find you not wearing a bra. He did think you weren't wearing one when you put his hand on your boob in the car earlier.

“Ah, fuck,” he squeezed your tit in his hand, you whine. “They really are bigger. Can I see them, baby?"

You nodded, not even giving it a solid thought as Jungkook immediately hiked up your top until your perky breasts were all bare for him to see.

And devour, eventually.

Jungkook went straight to sucking your boob and squeezing the other to tend to it, massaging it in his huge palm. He licked a nipple and bit at it slightly, making you sigh at his action. Your arms went to his head to fist his hair in your hands.

His ministrations on your chest encouraged you to roll your hips against his pelvis, and that elicited a grunt from him. Smiling a little at that, you experimented on doing it a little harder, and as a result, Jungkook tugged at your nipple, making you whine a little too loud.

"Behave."

You pout. "I want to fuck."

"It’s not so creepy here anymore?” He had the audacity to tease, but his hands were still on your breasts, fondling them.

“I didn’t say we can fuck here. Just…” you looked around, not really specifically looking for something.

Now that Jungkook mentioned it again, you get reminded that it really is creepy as fuck here. And you still didn’t trust the ground. There was no way you could stand fucking in this property. And what if something scary happens while you’re in the middle of doing it…

Just as you were thinking it, a strange sound catches both of your attention.

“I think we should get back in your car.” You decided.

Probably seeing the flash of fear in your eyes, Jungkook laughs. “Are you thinking of ghosts again?"

You slap his chest. "No. But I want to cum."

"So demanding,” he playfully scolds but you just roll your eyes and let your sweatshirt fall to cover you up once again. You immediately cling to him the moment he stands up and help him pick up the soju bottles, anxiously praying you guys hurry up to get out of here.

“It was just the wind.” Jungkook comforts you once you were on your way to his car.

As far as you’re concerned, it’s never just the wind. At least those shitty horror movies you and your cousins watched during sleepovers tell you so.

Jungkook opens the door to the backseat and you go in and he follows after you.

You immediately straddle him once he’s seated, earning a chuckle from him.

“Wow, you’re really eager for me to fuck the fear out of you, huh?” He says, sounding smug about the way you reach for the hem of your shirt and removing it from yourself.

“Hm. Your dirty talk these days have been subpar.” you slide his jacket off of him and he lets you remove his shirt as well, laughing more at your impatience.

“Can’t think straight when a pretty girl is on my lap."

Before you could say something about that, he gripped your waist and got you off his lap, manhandling you to lay on the backseat. Your back is against the car door as Jungkook twisted in his seat, hauling himself backwards to pull your sweats down and take off your birkens. Leaning down, Jungkook pressed open-mouthed kisses up your thighs, teasing his mouth on where you need him the most.

But you didn’t want to feel anything there other than his cock, and you tell him so.

"Jungkook,” you whine, catching his attention. When he looks up at you, you whine some more, “Just fuck me. I’m so wet already."

He cursed, caressing the sides of your thighs. "Baby, I need to prep you.”

“There’s no need for that, come on, please. I need your cock."

Jungkook groans. But then he makes quick work of unzipping his pants, pulling it down with his boxers until his dick is out. It’s plenty hard already, the shiny tip catching your attention.

You let out another cry at the sight of him gripping his base, pumping it for a few seconds and finally pushing your panties to the side and slipped inside you. True to your words, it was quite an easy slide, but the burn still stings a little bit. His size was on the little above average spectrum and you’ve always found a hard time taking it in smoothly.

"Oh, god,” you mewl, grasping his bicep while your other hand grips the back seat.

Jungkook tightened his fingers on your waist, a hand coming up to one of your thighs to wrap it around his middle. You follow his silent command, welcoming the hot kiss he gives you.

“Should I move now?” He whispers in your mouth, and you nod frantically, throwing your head back with a moan when he does as told.

His cock was not even pulled out completely before he slipped it in again, slowly, in agonizing deep strokes. Like he wants to feel every corner of your warm hole.

“So good…” you moaned, tightening your thigh around his body.

“You like when I fuck you slow, baby?” Jungkook pressed kisses on your chest this time, and you could only nod your head mindlessly as he repeated thrusting out again.

“I – ah… so good, Kook. I love it,"

The car is cramped and all you could hear are your heavy breaths and the lewd squelching sound of his cock going in and out of your pussy, his chain dangling in between your bodies feels cold when it momentarily touches your chest.

You would tell him to go faster, harder, but the way he was planting fairy kisses on your skin and his tattooed arm popping veins on the side of your head as if he was finding it hard to not fuck you stupid, you found that his deep and precise albeit slow strokes great.

"So pretty,” he says, moving the strands of hair that stuck everywhere on your face.

“K-kook,” you whimper.

“Hm? Baby? What is it?” Jungkook looks at you with an uncharacteristically soft gaze, his dick still continuing its slow pace in your cunt.

“M-my back hurts like this,” you say.

His eyes look softer at your words, expression gentle. “Sorry, angel.” He caresses your face and kisses you which you welcomed with a sob when his dick hits deeper after he leaned down. “Here, I’ll sit here. Straddle me.” But he doesn’t even wait for you to move as he hauls you to his lap himself, his cock still inside you, feeling it twitching when you sit on it outright.

“Good girl,” Jungkook squeezes your breasts and laps at them, only to look up at you again. “You okay?"

You nod, pushing him slightly so that he relaxes his back against the seat. You brace yourself on his chest and begin to bounce on his cock.

Jungkook throws his head back, letting you on your own pace, hands gripping your hips to help you move.

"So fucking good for me,” he hissed just as when you mewled when his cock hits a particular spot in you. “Take it easy, baby, nice and slow, okay?” He said, taking a hold on the back of your head and pulling you in for a slow kiss.

You followed his words and planted your knees on either side of him, going down steadily, crying out at the way you feel every ridge of his huge cock inside you like this.

It was so pleasurable, the way he groaned in your ears, squeezing your breasts, tugging at your sensitive nipples, murmuring stupid, sweet nothings, his cock seemingly growing larger in your heat each second passed, and soon, you feel that knot in your stomach ready to burst.

“I-I’m cumming, Kook, I’m cumming–"

Jungkook hummed, and when he felt your movements stuttering, he took it upon himself to press his thumb to your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves and fucking his dick up into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your orgasm snap.

"So good for me, baby, fuck, you’re such a good girl for me.” He kept rubbing delicious shapes on your clit, and you had to bite back a pathetic sob as the pleasure started to become too much.

But he was still chasing his high, and you leaned forward to kiss him through it, letting him do whatever he wanted to get himself there.

And when he did cum, you feel yourself cumming a second time too, Jungkook letting out strings of curses and nonsense as he feels you dripping more juices down onto his cock.

Your head falls on the crook of his neck, Jungkook caressing your back as he relaxes on the seat.

For a while, words were not spoken. He kept kissing your hair while you felt him twitching in your pussy.

“I’m so tired,” you wearily peeled your face from his neck, looking at him. He has his eyes shut close, but there’s a content smile on his face that you leaned down to kiss. You didn’t know what for, you just felt like kissing him.

Jungkook hums. The mess in your crotch starts to feel sticky and cold and uncomfortable.

“Let’s stay like this for a while.” He says, as if he could read that you were about to get off his lap.

You chuckle. “I can literally feel you going soft."

"Ignore my dick. I wanna feel you a little more."

"Okay."

Jungkook does an unexpected thing of kissing your forehead. You choose to ignore the weird tingling feeling in your stomach and the way your cheeks feel hot at the action, just let him slip his fingers through your hair and rest your cheek on his naked chest.

You eventually got off of each other after a few minutes, and you both were quiet as you dressed yourselves back. Jungkook and you got out of his car so he could drive and you could enter the passenger’s seat.

The drive to your place was quiet but the silence was nice and comfortable, just like when you were at the back of that creepy old house. Jungkook occasionally sang along to some of the songs playing from a random playlist he pulled up on Spotify, and his voice sounded kind of nice. You wanted to say something about it but decided not to, in slight fear that he would stop.

When he pulled over in front of your complex, there was a soft, gentle smile on his face when he told you, "Sweet dreams."

Your face mirrored his as you wished him good night.

You locked the door to your apartment, ignoring the strange feeling in your stomach.

You found yourselves at that abandoned house again the next night and Jungkook forewent the booze and brought junk food from Wendy’s. You had a swell time just sitting with each other at the back of the house, talking about the most random things you could talk about like some silly childhood memories. You almost shared your joy upon finding out that you weren’t actually pregnant after taking the test earlier that day just like you said you would the other night, but you found it better to keep that to yourself.

Additionally, you ranted to him about Professor Kang for giving you a C+ on a project you thought you deserved a higher grade for. Jungkook showed blind support by roasting your professor’s haircut. You didn’t fuck that night but did it the next night after a few drinks.

When the day of their second game of Finals hit, your Uni won again and Jungkook ditched the after-game party, picking you up and driving you to that place. Almost like it became tradition.

This time, you think you went overboard with the drinks, but it was probably just your shitty alcohol tolerance because Jungkook was standing still with his third bottle – which you childishly argued was unfair.

Jungkook carried you like a sack of potatoes on your way to his car, ignoring how you slapped his ass. But you were all giggles and hushed whispers in the backseat as Jungkook guided your hips, bouncing you on his cock, just like the other night.

"How does it feel, baby?” Jungkook whispered against your mouth while you gripped his shoulders hard to slide up and down his cock, the tops of your feet resting on his thighs.

“S-so good,” you whimpered, speeding up, feeling yourself getting close to your edge.

Jungkook tightened his hands on your waist but didn’t really do anything to control your movements or pace like he usually would. Like he was just enjoying you on top of him, using his cock to get off.

You leaned down to kiss him, your moan upon feeling him deeper getting swallowed by the way he immediately reciprocated your touch.

You opened your eyes but then you suddenly caught a glimpse of a car. You pulled away from the kiss, but Jungkook took it as an opportunity to kiss your neck instead. While he was busy lapping up your skin, you narrowed your eyes to see clearer, only to realize that the car you saw was a fucking police cruiser.

“Jungkook,” you called him, stopping your movements on his lap.

“Baby,” Jungkook’s voice nearly sounded like a whine, understandably confused at your action– or lack thereof.

But you only tapped his shoulder a little harder.

“There’s a damn cruiser in front of us."

Well, it wasn’t actually in front of you. It was more like, parked across from you, beside that abandoned house.

Jungkook seemed to realize your panic though. His car wasn’t lit because you immediately got into it the moment he put you in the backseat. It was a little inconvenient especially when you were slipping him in but it turned to be a blessing in disguise because whoever owned that cruiser wouldn't have noticed what you were doing in his car.

"Shit."

You hastily climbed off of him, quickly finding your shorts on the floor of the car and sliding it on while seated. Meanwhile, Jungkook just tucked his dick in his boxers and zipped up his pants. It was pure luck that you didn’t completely strip each other off earlier because it made for a fast dress up.

"Wait.” Jungkook leaned over the center part of the car and stayed a few seconds hunched over the console. You were just about to ask him what he was doing when the passenger’s seat suddenly reclined back.

“Oh."

"We can climb over here so that we don’t have to go out and have a cop seeing us. It would be suspicious.” He suggested, and you quickly nodded and did what he told you with a little bit of his help.

Jungkook pressed a button once again that had the driver’s seat this time leaning back, just like yours did. He climbed over it just as fast, putting on his seatbelt that you remember you needed to do as well so you followed.

He lit on the car and started the engine. But before he could drive, a knock on his window made you both look at it.

“Fuck.”

You held your breath as you watched his window slowly sliding down, revealing a police decked in his uniform hunching down to see the inside of the car.

“Evening, officer.” Jungkook greets casually. You didn’t know what to do. You reached for the phone in your pocket and turn it on, ducking down as much as you could so as to hide your face, trying to seem busy and casual.

“Oh, it’s just some kids, Hwang,” The cop turned to the side, and that’s when you heard another set of footsteps coming towards you. “You kids live here?"

"Yeah. It’s my parents’ house, I’m just about to drive my girlfriend home.” Jungkook answered, referring to the green house he parked at, not a hint of hesitation or even an ounce of nervousness in his demeanor.

You were too frozen to react to the way he called you his girlfriend.

The other cop nodded. “Apologies. We were just roaming. Be careful, kid, you got a sleek car. There’s some thief on the loose around the street."

Jungkook nodded as well, even did a little salute as he said, "You got it, sir."

The cop patted the top of his car and Jungkook bid them a final goodbye before closing his window again and driving away.

You felt like your soul just went right back inside you after it got out for a moment there.

"Holy shit, that was the craziest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

And then suddenly, you giggled. Actually, like, giggled. Because realizing what just happened, you found every single thing fucking hilarious. You got away from cops!

“Oh my god, Jungkook. That was insane!” You said in between your laughter.

Jungkook looked over at you before training his attention to the road and finally laughing with you, seemingly finding what happened just as hilarious. “Yeah. It was, it was.”

“And they really believed you! I can’t believe it,” you covered your face with both of your hands, your belly starting to hurt with how much you found the whole thing incredulous that it was funny.

“It’s not like we did anything wrong…” Jungkook said but he had a hint of playful tone when he spoke the words.

You snorted. “Well, in between public indecency and trespassing, which do you think they would most likely arrest us for?"

That got Jungkook to laugh again.

During the ride to your place, you complained about feeling too cold at one point. Jungkook asked if you wanted him to turn the A/C down but you shook your head and so he offered his jacket instead because you only wore a shirt. In your defense, when he picked you up, the weather was humid even though it was late at night.

You didn’t stop talking and laughing about what happened earlier, though. You found it hard to let go of it just like that.

"You are so drunk,” Jungkook chuckled as he pulled over. “You’re going to regret it tomorrow."

"It’s Saturday tom–” you cut yourself off with a yawn.

“You’re cute when you’re drunk.” Jungkook commented, pulling over, indicating that you were near your apartment. You didn’t even notice.

“Not drunk, just tipsy.” You said, starting to unbuckle your seat belt but you kept on failing. Your tipsiness was starting to kick in again and everything was a little too hazy in your head.

You still definitely are aware about your surroundings, so aware that you felt Jungkook hunching over your side to unbuckle your seat belt for you, so close that you felt his breath fanning your face.

“Thanks.” You smiled, he returned it.

You opened the door yourself this time, though, and was only a little surprised to see Jungkook getting out of his car too.

“Let me walk you to your door."

And honestly, you should be worried about the possibility of Nayeon being at the apartment and seeing you together, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to care when all you could feel was odd content in feeling Jungkook’s presence as you walked towards your place.

It was quiet but it was comfortable. You noticed how it’s always been like that with him, especially these days.

When you reached your door, you turned to Jungkook who was a little behind you, probably slowed his steps when you neared your place.

“Thanks for walking me."

"No biggies,” Jungkook grins and then he stares at you for a while.

“What?” You asked.

He leans down, holds your hip and presses his mouth against your own.

Surprisingly, you didn’t really make a big deal out of it in your head when you were supposed to because this has never happened before: Jungkook walking you to your door and kissing you before he leaves has never occurred before.

And yet, it felt so normal. Like it was just something that happens on the daily. Like you were so used to feeling his casual and soft kisses instead of the passionate and hard ones that often led to something.

“See you next week?"

You nod, biting your lip as he lets you go. "Yeah."

Jungkook gives you a one, last small smile before he turns around and goes to his car, entering it and driving away from your complex.

What a crazy night.

You did not want to admit it, but maybe the strange feeling in your stomach the other night was goddamn butterflies.

You really weren’t supposed to come with.

But Juyeon, your editor in chief, told you to accompany Ryujin as she goes to interview the basketball team for their second win at the Finals season today. Your responsibility told you that it was fine, which, really is fine because you were used to monitoring freshmen in the club and that was actually one of your official jobs as the managing director but!

You were basically gonna do a babysitting job because Ryujin apparently fucked a guy from the team after she interviewed them the first time and it resulted to a poor article, and as a result, Juyeon is afraid she’s gonna fuck up her future write-ups so you’re the collateral damage of the whole situation.

Juyeon didn’t tell you that herself, though. Keeping things professional and decent. You heard it from the other members of the club.

Right now, you have to be at the gymnasium to meet people you’ve never really bothered meeting before and have always avoided for obvious reasons.

But it was fine.

You checked Ryujin’s questions on the way there and when you arrived, she immediately tried to spot the team’s coach to talk to him about the interview she was gonna conduct.

Instantly, you felt a prickling sensation on your arms and the back of your neck as the varsity players stopped on their tracks to look at the newcomers. At this hour, you can see no one at the gym seats. You and Ryujin were the only civilians and they noticed that immediately.

It’s as if you couldn’t help it, but you spotted Jungkook on one of the benches drinking water. As if on cue, he met your gaze, and you could see the little surprise he had on his face seeing you. However, you quickly looked away and walked towards where the coach and Ryujin were.

"I’m here with our managing director, too. She’s here to help me with the interview.” Ryujin told the coach, all smiles.

“Good day, sir.” You greeted him. He nodded at you in acknowledgement and turned to look at his team.

“Alright,” The coach loudly said, which got the players to transfix their attention to him instead. You tried not to notice Jungkook looking at you as he walked towards your direction, the other members doing the same. Coach stood straight and elaborated, “The school’s publication is here to interview you about the previous game you’ve had. Practice ends here–” he was cut off by the collective loud cheers from the guys. He shook his head. “But put on your best behavior."

"Guaranteed, coach.” Someone said but you saw how he sent a wink to Ryujin’s way.

Jesus Christ, where even was the subtlety? It was such a boy-ish thing to do. If you could, you would roll your eyes. Wait – was it the guy she fucked on that interview? Ugh. You couldn’t really bring yourself to care. It was her sex life… just maybe she shouldn’t mix it with her journalism activities…

“Careful, Kang. I’m gonna make you do ten laps if you don’t give these writers some good material,” The coach warned and some of them snorted. He then turned to both of you and Ryujin. “These guys are very rowdy but you guys will be fine."

You try to smile at him as he bids his goodbye and leaves the gym. Taejun, the senior sports journalist had already interviewed him so Ryujin only had to do it with the players themselves so they could collaborate on the article.

Ryujin enthusiastically greeted the team and introduced herself, as well as you. You offered them a small smile and was only a little taken aback when Taehyung chirped your name.

"Hi, Taehyung.” you return his greeting.

He grins at you.

Ryujin looks at you immediately. “Oh, you know someone here?"

Yeah, technically you knew of some people here. You knew Taehyung though, and you knew Jungkook. But you chose to just nod instead of saying anything.

Ryujin lets out a happy noise. "That’s so cool!"

Yeah…

"Hey, surprised to see you here,” Taehyung walked up to you. “I thought you weren’t in the sports section?”

You were surprised to know that Taehyung even remembers what you told him a long time ago. You got to know each other that much during the time you were constantly talking.

“Well, yes. Ryujin is a freshman, though. I take care of them sometimes, you can say.” You replied.

Taehyung nodded in understanding. “You’re gonna be here for a while?"

"We’ll see. But I think the interview will be a quick one."

Someone from the team called Taehyung and he looked at you apologetically. You nodded with a smile.

"We always seem so busy whenever we see each other,” Taehyung shakes his head with a laugh. You find that quite funny too. “Hey, do you wanna catch up? Get some coffee around."

"Oh, yeah, sure. But I bet your sched is crazy these days.” you said, alluding to their constant practices for Finals season.

“Nah, I can make time. Unless you have a crazy sched too?” He gave you a playful smile.

You cocked your head to the side, squinting your eyes at him. “Not all of us are trying to get our school a big trophy."

Taehyung laughed at that and his teammates called for him again, this time it was Jungkook. You both looked at him. He had a strange look on his face but you shrugged it off.

"Well, I better get going. Ryujin’s starting.” He said and pointed back with his thumb.

The boys were kind of rowdy in the start, but they eventually scattered around the benches doing their own thing as Ryujin talked to them individually, especially the ones who usually play in court.

You offered to take some of your own notes, too, were kind of bothered that you didn’t really understand some of the terms used and that this was very unusual territory for you to get a material at for writing an article. You never really dabbled on sports writing.

Eventually, you felt your bladder looking for relief so you told Ryujin that you would be back in a minute.

It was a little difficult to find the comfort room but you did see it in the far corner of the hallway, a few steps away from the gymnasium.

You were washing your hands on the communal sink after peeing when the door suddenly opened, revealing Jungkook in his jersey.

Hand clutching your chest, you looked at him with a scandalized expression.

“Jesus,” you squint your eyes. “Why are you here?”

Jungkook closes the door and saunters towards the room. “No greetings or anything?"

You give him an eyeroll and come back to washing your hands as soon as you get over the initial shock of seeing him.

You simply shrug.

In a second, Jungkook was beside you.

"We haven’t seen each other in a while,” he said, giving you a playful nudge.

You whisk your hands, ridding the wetness out of your hands.

“It’s only been three days."

You see him smile at you through the mirror, and he has that soft look again on his face. You get reminded of your last night together. When he kissed you good night as he dropped you home.

"I was surprised to see you there,” Jungkook says, turning around and leaning back on the counter.

You think he’s referring to seeing you at the gym and that makes you chuckle. Why was everyone surprised to see you at the gym? “Why, you think you guys own the gym or something?"

Jungkook found your sass amusing, though.

"Come on, you know what I mean."

You playfully narrowed your eyes at him but ended up laughing for no reason other than he also laughed.

"Eh, duty calls. Our EIC had me accompany Ryujin, so...” you see Jungkook nodding. You swerve the topic to the next one. “Your big game starts in, like, five days from now.” You mirror his stance and also lean back on the counter.

Jungkook watched as you did so. “Yeah.”

His eyes are trained on yours, and you hold a weird, intense stare until he finally peels himself off from the counter and walks to you. You’re surprised that you’ve never thought about him in his jersey but you were able to see him earlier like this before and right now, in your close up view, damn. He looked good. Especially with his tattoos all out like that. You really like them. They looked pretty.

“It’s probably gonna be the last game,” you said, referring to the fact that they’ve won the last two games and if they win this one, it would be the concluding point of the Finals season. “You’re going to make the Uni proud?” You arched a brow at him.

He shrugged. And finally, he crossed the small distance between you and held your hips. You think you unintentionally let out a happy hum at the contact. You’ve been wanting him to touch you as soon as you saw him earlier. For some weird reason.

“Sure, but only if you’re there for me to give me my personal reward,” The lewd undertone was not lost on you and it made you giggle. Somehow, he’d gotten even closer, fingers caressing your hips in soothing circles. “You look good, by the way. This skirt is new?"

It is new. You try not to think too much about what it says about you that you kind of thought of him when you placed the order a week ago. It was just a blip of thought, anyway. You swear.

"Yes. And you’re kinda sweaty,” He really is. But it doesn’t stop you from looping your arms around his neck and Jungkook is only visibly satisfied at the close proximity.

“Hard at work,” he leans down, but he only nudges your nose. “Can I see your panties?"

You would have scolded yourself for giggling like a school girl at that question, but Jungkook must’ve realized how stupid that sounded too as he laughed together with you.

"I don’t know, you’re gonna have to do it yourself. I think.” You whispered, playing into the joke.

You saw his smirk before he finally closed the hairsbreadth gap between you and touched your mouth against his. He prodded at the seam of your lips with his tongue and you let him access, his tongue swirling with your own as you shared a rather passionate kiss in the sink.

There was a string of saliva between your mouths when he broke free.

“God, I missed your taste.”

It was his last words before he dove in again, kissing you way deeper now, more frantic as well, as he started getting handsy. At some point, his hands on your hips lifted you up until you were seated on the counter, Jungkook kissing you like it hasn’t only been three days since he had you like this. He squeezed your bare thighs that got you whimpering, your hips, waist. Up, up, and up until he was copping a feel on your boobs through your clothes.

He was kissing your neck when you suddenly felt him untucking your shirt from your skirt.

“Wait, no,” You tried to get your head out of your previous headspace and took a hold of his wrists.

“No?” Jungkook stops, looking at you curiously, lips plump, hair a little wild. And with his stupid basketball uniform, it was extremely hard to discourage his advances.

But…

“Someone might come in,” you say with genuine worry in your voice, pushing him away slightly.

“There’s not really a lot of people who come to this bathroom,” he tells you. Which, you think, kind of makes sense. Him and his teammates have their locker rooms and their own comfort room that was an extension of the gym (which you pointedly didn’t go to for obvious reasons) and this part of the campus was a little quiet.

But then again, you did tell Ryujin you would be back in a minute. And it would be quite ironic if Juyeon told you to monitor her because she fucked someone in the team while you go ahead and fail to do that job because you were fooling around with another someone from the same team.

Jesus. That’s enough crisis for today.

“Ryujin’s probably going to interview you soon,” you said, tucking your shirt back into your skirt.

You jump slightly to step on the floor, turning around to fix your hair, seeing Jungkook stepping back through the mirror. “Why did you leave the gym, by the way?"

Jungkook invades your personal space again and presses himself to your back. "I got excited when I saw you…” he whispers in your ear and your whimper betrays your resistance from literally a few seconds ago as you feel something hard on your ass.

But at the same time, you look at him incredulously through the mirror. He just shrugs as he sees it, gripping your hips again and burrowing his face on the crook of your neck.

“Kook,” you whine.

Jungkook chuckled and before you can do something stupid like give in to his touch, he leaned back and held his hands up.

“Fine, fine,” he says, still laughing when you turn around to glare at him. “Can I see you later?"

You jab at his chest lightly. "For being annoying just right now, you can’t "

His face contorts and pouts. "Aw, come on,"

You roll your eyes at his dramatic antics.

"We can’t get into anything tonight. Nayeon is staying at home and I’m nervous about her seeing your car if you pick me up,” you tell him. “Also, we can’t go to that place. That cruiser might be back again."

"Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook agrees. “We can just go together to my place after this, though? It would be late by the time your friend is finished with the interview."

You look at him funny.

He sighs. "Damn, I thought I could finally convince you to fuck at my place."

You shake your head. "Never.”

From the start, you both agreed to only fuck at your place (whenever Nayeon is not around, of course) per your request. Jungkook lives quite far from the campus, at least far compared to yours, and it was a high complex building. As far as you know, most of the big shots at school live there and he’s neighbors with Taehyung. You don’t want to risk it.

“Never is a long time..” Jungkook wiggles his brows at you and that breaks you from your thoughts.

Laughing, you push at him playfully.

“Gee. You should go. They’re probably now wondering why you’re taking so long."

"They’re probably thinking I’m taking a shit.” he shrugs. “I think I told Taehyung that before I left.”

“Oh no, is that what they’re going to think about me, too?” You gave him an animated concerned look, making your voice purposely higher in pitch.

“Wait, what? You take a shit?” Jungkook playing into the joke caused you to laugh and you punched his bicep that he just took with a grin.

When the laughter died down, Jungkook looked at you seriously.

“When can I see you again?"

"I don’t know. Sometime this week, maybe? Don’t be whiny.” You smile as you see his pout. “Hey, you really should go now."

He looked a little hesitant but he didn’t really have a choice. And you were also growing more concerned that someone from the gym might think maliciously about you and Jungkook disappearing at the same time for a long time. Hopefully, no one cared enough to think about it.

"Alright.” Jungkook says finally and starts to step out. Before he leaves, though, he asks, “Wait, are you going to the game?"

You hope Jungkook doesn’t see the surprise if it showed on your face. You didn’t expect him to ask that.

But you try to play it cool, pondering on it. It’s Wednesday, next week, and as far as you knew, there was nothing major in your schedule. You still don’t know about that, though. Maybe some of your profs would drop a big project on your heads come Monday.

It’s why you were surprised to hear yourself say, "I’ll try."

Jungkook gave you a wide grin before he left completely.

When you got back to the gym, Ryujin was already talking to him.

Jungkook looked at the door when you entered and did a poor job of hiding a smile to himself, and for what reason, you simply didn’t know. But so as you did not know the reason for why you looked too closely at him to even notice that tiny gesture.

For someone who was adamant to see you last week, Jungkook wasn’t really able to snuck in time to do so. You shared texts here and there, but he mentioned that they’ve been practicing nonstop since the past few days because they are preparing for a big game, after all. Might be the last one if they come through and win it.

Come Wednesday, the day of the third game, Jungkook texted you that he got a reserved seat for you at the venue. Your weird giddiness over that was clouded by the worry at the thought of how he managed to do that without anyone suspecting anything about your relationship. You mentally noted to tell him about it later.

When Nayeon came home after classes, she told you she got two tickets for the game if you wanted to come with. You didn’t really need tickets, though, you could just use your journalist card and they would let you in.

See, you had all these resources to go to the game but the thing is, you have a book review and another assignment due tonight and you needed to get some studying done for a test tomorrow. The game starts at 3 pm and will probably end around 6 or even later than that. It’s not that you never procrastinated in your life but you’ve learned over the years to prioritize more important things over the ones that didn’t really need urgency. And this is why you told Nayeon that you couldn’t come with her because of your packed schedule today.

But worry looms over you as you remember how excited Jungkook seemed over your texts earlier when you asked him what you should expect at the game. He told you about how it could be chaotic and noisy and crowded but it was gonna be fun and worth your while, especially if – he jokingly said – he scores a shot for you if you were to be there.

Looking back, you made it sound like you were gonna come but in your defense, you really were going to but these school activities came to you unexpectedly and you didn’t have the luxury of time to set them aside to watch a basketball game first.

And anyway, was it really a big deal if you didn’t come? You don’t think Jungkook would really mind. Maybe his texts went over your head that you thought he was excited at the prospect of you going to his game. You would tell yourself it didn’t matter, and if Jungkook was going to be shit about it (which you doubt, ‘cause he seemed casual about inviting you) then he was weird for being (hypothetically) weird about it. It wasn’t like this was normal for you both, anyway; you going to his games, that is.

So around 2 pm, you messaged him.

[2:06pm] You: Hey, I’m really sorry I can’t go to your game. Swamped with school works, but I wish you good luck :) Go break a leg but hopefully not literally!

It was hard to focus on writing your book review because you couldn’t help but be agitated as you remembered that they air these Finals games on television and you could literally just turn it on and watch it from there. But the empty document on your laptop was glaring at you, like it was daring you to watch TV instead of finishing it.

Of course, you chose to tend to the intimidating clean white MS word page instead. As if you really had a choice in the first place.

At 10 pm, your book review was mostly done and only needed a few touch-ups. You also finished your other assignment so you finally had some time to eat.

You just reheated a leftover pizza from your fridge when you received a text from Nayeon.

[10:11pm] Im Nayeonie: babe im sleeping over at a friend’s so the place is all yours for tonight. don’t forget to lock up ok [10:11pm] You: Ok! You’ll be back tomorrow morning? [10:14pm] Im Nayeonie: eh probably around 10am but I’ll see

You remember that she was at the game earlier. It actually slipped off your mind eventually when you got your head in too deep with finishing your assignments, but now that you’re reminded of it again, you wanted to know how it was.

[10:16pm] You: Hey how was the game? [10:16pm] Im Nayeonie: oh my ur interested in bb now?? [10:17pm] You: Don’t tease! I just wanted to know if you had fun [10:17pm] Im Nayeonie: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

You snort at the ridiculous emoticon.

[10:17pm] You: What the hell does that mean?! [10:17pm] Im Nayeonie: nothing lmaoooo [10:18pm] Im Nayeonie: but the game was fine! it was kinda intense but our uni lost unfortunately): they had a three point difference

Oh. You usually didn’t care about any sports games that your Uni has but the news deflated you for some reason.

[10:19pm] You: Ah, thats unfortunate

You replied, finding that you didn’t really know what to say. Should you message Jungkook? But what were you going to say?

[10:19pm] Im Nayeonie: yeah it is it was supposed to be the last game 😖😖 but there’s still 2 more to go anyway im not too worried about it finals went like this last season too [10:20pm] Im Nayeonie: but jungkook’s buzzer beater at game 4 was really insane it’s like all over on twt IK you proly won’t care about it but ill still send you a link HAHAHAH

Nayeon did send you a link and thankfully you were able to see it even though you didn’t have Twitter, but you looked up "buzzer beater” on Google first. You didn’t understand it completely but slowly did when you played the video she was talking about.

The camera was a bit shaky and the background was expectedly noisy. The angle shifted to the timer on top of the ring and you could see that there was only ten seconds left. When the lens panned to the court, you saw a player wearing your Uni’s colors and you couldn’t have mistaken Jungkook for anyone when you spotted the tattoo sleeve. He was a bit far from the ring, at that curved line – the three-point line, you learned through the replies – but he successfully shot the ball quite gracefully into the ring and everyone just lost it. Even the person behind the video was cheering exuberantly. You could also make out that Jungkook pumped the air at his own shot in triumph as a buzzing sound overtook the screams before the clip ended.

Apparently, they were losing in the fourth game, but Jungkook managed to make a three-point shot in the very literal end which got them a chance to play through the fifth.

You scrolled through the comments and found out that it was indeed a tight game and the other team only had a three-point difference with your Uni’s team, like Nayeon said.

It was amazing, in your opinion, but people online could really be shitty.

Some were mocking Jungkook’s buzzer beater in game 4, saying how it was useless and how he could’ve done it again in game 5 but wasn’t able to. You didn’t know shit about basketball but you were very certain it was a rare thing to do in court so the people who were complaining about it could go fuck themselves.

This is why you avoid social media as much as possible. You hope Jungkook doesn’t see those comments.

You were frowning as you texted Nayeon back.

[10:26pm] You: That was cool [10:26pm] You: Hey I’ll talk to you soon I’m gonna go eat dinner. Have fun on your sleepover

You weren’t able to see her reply when Jungkook’s name is suddenly plastered all over your screen. You accepted his call on the third ring.

“Hi,” you say. You can’t help but think about the negative comments on Twitter but Jungkook sounded fine when he answered.

“Hi, baby,” he greeted on his end. “Can I see you?"

"Sure,” you answer almost immediately. You composed yourself before continuing. “Nayeon will be out until morning. Come over?"

You can feel his smile through the line as he says, "Nice. Be there in five."

Per his words, Jungkook did arrive in five minutes and when you heard a knock from your front door, you quickly opened it and ushered him inside.

"Hey,” you greet him as he removes his stompers off. He slides on your extra fluffy home slippers, your old one that you have been lending him whenever he would come over. You think it’s kind of funny on his feet because the sliders were too small. “I just finished my leftover pizza for dinner so I don’t have any food right now. Do you want me to order in?"

Jungkook shakes his head. "Nah, I’m not really hungry. Unless you are? Wait, nevermind, I’ll do that."

He takes out his phone but you stop him.

"No, no, it’s fine. I actually ordered Chinese while you were on your way so I could beat you to it.” You tease. But you kind of meant it, honestly. He needs to stop paying for everything. But also, the pizza didn’t cut your hunger and you needed to eat rice, anyway, so you ordered in right after your call with him ended.

Jungkook frowned but then shook his head. “Alright."

"Water?” You asked, going towards the kitchen.

“Yes, please."

He followed you on your way there and when you turned around to give him the glass, he snaked an arm around your waist and kissed you.

It took you by surprise, but you reciprocated immediately. You mirrored his smile when he broke the kiss. He gazed at you, a fond look on his face, and leaned down to press his forehead to yours and said, "Hi."

You giggle. "Hi."

Jungkook presses his mouth on you again and you kiss some more for a little while. It was weird because your kisses usually lead to fucking, but this time it didn’t mean anything other than plain kissing, just for the sake of it. You were reminded of that time in high school when you and your first boyfriend often made out (sloppily) in your room because it was all you were ready to do. Jungkook was far more skilled than said first boyfriend, though. And it felt way nicer with him.

You were the one to pull away, licking your lips and biting the bottom one.

"Do you wanna watch something?"

"Hm. Hopefully you aren’t going to make me watch Legally Blonde again."

Your frown is instant. "I thought you liked that movie?"

Jungkook chuckles and pecks your lips again but you sulk, especially after hearing his next words, "I do, baby. It’s just I’m getting tired of it…” When he sees your frown deepening, he says, “I’m kidding. We can watch it."

"No, I feel betrayed now.” You break free from his hold and down another glass of water.

He laughed and was about to say more when your doorbell rang, indicating the food delivery just arrived. Jungkook was the one to volunteer.

“I’ll go get it."

You turned on the TV in the living room and sat on the couch.

Jungkook followed almost as quickly after you, placing the bags of Chinese food on the coffee table.

"Oh, I think we should watch an Adam Sandlers movie. Just something not so serious.” you said just as when Jungkook sat beside you, remembering about his game earlier. You noted that he seemed to be in a good mood when he came in but you never know, maybe he was good at hiding his real emotions or whatever. And, well, maybe you were a little happy to see him laughing like that with you, despite losing an important game.

“I thought you hated him and his movies?"

You shrug, appreciating that he even remembers that.

"Eh, it’s fine. It's... camp, you know? Sometimes shitty movies are funny because they’re shitty."

After a while, you get reminded why you don’t watch Adam Sandlers movies. Even Jungkook who laughs at the most stupid jokes didn’t find the supposed punchlines of the movie you were watching funny. But somehow, you found yourselves eventually laughing at how unfunny the film was and only a little surprised when you went through the whole Chinese take-outs not even 30 minutes in the movie.

"His movies always make my film maker dreams die.” You comment absentmindedly, drinking your water.

Jungkook looks at you with a surprised expression. “Filmmaker?"

You try to remember if you mentioned it to him in passing before. By the look on his face, it was probably his first time hearing it.

"Yep."

"Oh,” Jungkook nods in thought. “I see you didn’t pursue it."

"Eh, film school is expensive. Also, it’s not a very generous industry for women, so.” You shrug nonchalantly.

It’s a dormant dream for the most part. Sometimes, you want it a lot, but most of the time, not really. Fresh out of high school, you were supposed to major in it but it was way more you could afford, and your family didn't exactly support it. So study education it is. Besides, teaching was a secondary dream that you decided you could pursue, and well, you were doing well with it. These days though, you were planning to go to law school but it's still something you aren't very sure yet.

It’s a drama you don’t want to bother Jungkook with, though. You never had a discussion like this before… and you weren’t really sure if you were ready to open up to someone like that.

“I did videography in first year,” he shares. You arch your brow at that. Obviously you didn’t know. “I liked it and I was going to major in multimedia arts but dad said it was either be a lawyer or a doctor if I don’t do tech."

Ah. An overachiever family, you think. His dad owns a really huge tech company – he didn’t tell you that himself, you just heard it from other people in your school. He probably doesn’t even know you knew that. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he told you right now that his family was full of successful professionals.

"You went with tech.” You say.

Jungkook chuckles. “I did. But I made a bargain and said I would only take it if he lets me play basketball. He did let me, but he only tolerates it because I’m passing my classes."

You nodded, relating a bit. you wouldn't say your parents were particularly strict – but they were extremely practical people who wanted practical lives for their children. They weren’t over-controlling that they smother you with decisions you could make yourself.

"He really hates it, though.” Jungkook continues.

“Basketball?” You ask.

He nods. “Yeah. He thinks I’m thinking of going professional after I graduate, he doesn’t want me to do it."

"Are you?” You ask, curious. “Going professional, I mean.”

Jungkook shrugs. “I don’t know yet. I love playing. I'd also like to do tech after college, but it feels like I’m just following in his footsteps if I do that," And as if you didn't know already, he humbly adds, "My father’s in tech, by the way.” -- as if his dad was just a regular guy in the field.

He didn’t say it directly, but you feel like he’s probably being pressured by his dad to do this and that. And that makes you feel bad. Jungkook was always so easy-going, so laidback in a way that you would think he was just some varsity casanova asshole with zero care about their future because they think their looks could get them by through their lives, but he really wasn’t anything like that at all. He joined basketball because he loves it, maybe he gets a high from people admiring him for it but you could say he does it mostly for himself. That’s why he trains so hard and plays so hard in court. Aside from that, he was also really smart – which gets overlooked quite often because of his jock persona, and you know that because you were one of those who did overlook his intelligence before because he was a varsity. But he was smart, alright. He takes his studies seriously just as basketball.

Jungkook is admittedly a lot of great things. And it was sad that his family seemed to not support him, the way you see it.

But…

You didn’t really know what to tell him. Is he opening up? It’s just that… you never really talked about these things before and what he’s saying right now is so far from your usual lighthearted and casual conversations and interactions. You drew a conclusion that he probably has a tight relationship with his dad, but you don’t know what to do with that entirely new information.

“Uhm, you’re good at it, basketball,” And his studies, too. You wanted to say but didn’t. You add, “I saw your beater buzzer from the game earlier. It was really cool."

"It’s buzzer beater– hey, how did you know about that?” He says with an amused smile. You feel slightly embarrassed at how you mixed up the term but it was kind of complicated, alright! And you were kind of nervous. You find it comforting that he doesn’t tease you about it, though.

“Oh, well. Nayeon texted me about it. Also, you’re like, trending on Twitter.” You just told what Nayeon said. You actually didn’t know if he was trending because you didn’t have an account in the first place. “But don’t go look there, though, you’ll have a migraine."

Jungkook chuckles and leans back on the couch, relaxed in that position. "Yeah. People on the net can be real assholes."

That comment makes you frown. That probably meant he saw the negative feedback, right? Was he used to it? That would be… upsetting if he was. You knew about the local popularity of the athletes in your school, especially the football and volleyball and basketball players. Jungkook is obviously included in that circle but you feel bad that he has to deal with unnecessary hate. Jobs really are needed for chronically online people, you think bitterly.

Before you could say anything, Jungkook’s phone rang and you didn’t mean to look at his screen but you saw "Dad”. He declined the call.

“He’s talking my ear off about the game earlier,” Jungkook shakes his head. “He acts real concerned over my loss for someone who’s very unsupportive of my basketball career.” He was grinning while he said it but you could hear the annoyance in his tone, how he shut down his phone to probably dodge future calls from his father.

You turned to the movie in front of you.

“Hey, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to go.” You said, effectively changing the subject.

“Hm?” You meet Jungkook’s gaze. He smiles a little. “Ah, I read your text earlier, it’s fine."

You nodded and tried to focus on the movie again, but you haven’t been following the plot and so you had no idea what they’re showing you now.

Jungkook suddenly speaks.

"So are you planning to teach once you graduate? Or take law? You mentioned it before."

Oh. Is he…?

You could feel his genuine curiosity in that question. But you find yourself hesitating to engage in any more deep conversation with him. It’s not that you didn’t want to share… you’re just not that kind of person. Is he expecting you to lay out your personal drama?

You choose not to.

"Not sure. I don't want to talk about it."

You didn't mean for it to come out the way it did; clipped and annoyed. As if you didn't want to talk to him. And you could see that he was taken aback, surprised at the sudden change of your tone. But why? You didn’t feel like sharing. And anyway, you were only fuck buddies, right? Are you suddenly becoming bestfriends who tell each other about everything?

You awkwardly shifted in your seat, eyes trained on the screen in front of you but you felt Jungkook’s stare even while you weren’t looking at him, his eyes boring holes in your side profile.

You decided to not think too much about the awkward silence throughout the next few minutes, but Jungkook suddenly stood up, looking at his phone.

“I... should get going,” Jungkook announces.

And you didn’t expect to feel so bummed about it. But somehow, you were relieved. There was suddenly a certain strange energy around and you didn’t know if you could take any more of it.

“Ah, yeah, it’s kind of late…” you trail off.

Jungkook smiles at you but it doesn’t reach his eyes. You delude yourself into thinking it was not fake. He’s never faked a smile with you before.

“Thanks for the food and for inviting me over.”

“No biggies.” You say as you follow him towards the door.

It’s silent again when he wears his shoes, and once he was set and ready to go, you could feel that your smile was hesitant as he bid his goodbye.

“See you around."

He didn’t offer anything more – he would usually tease you as he goes out, just to rile you up before you part ways. Jungkook just gave a final wave and went on his way.

You had a hard time sleeping that night.

It wasn’t hard to avoid Jungkook all week when he himself seemed to be outdoing you in it.

For the record, you weren’t actually avoiding him for all sense of the word. You needed your space to collect your thoughts from that night and were trying to recover from the awkwardness of the situation because Jungkook and you might not be the best of friends but you’ve never been awkward with each other like that before.

But maybe you should be a little relieved that he hasn’t been texting, or that you haven’t heard from him. Because you weren’t sure if you were able to manage getting out of your shell so soon.

It didn’t mean that it didn’t sting a bit when he didn’t even spare you a glance the other day as you passed each other in the hallways and perhaps you should be celebrating, because yey, he finally did not acknowledge you in some way like meet your gaze and give you a small smile with so many people around that might notice and make a big deal out of it?

But you wore the black skirt he liked so much! He was supposed to text you something stupid like "nice skirt :) i wanna see it pooled around my lap” by the end of the day but no! No such thing happened.

Was he mad at you, is that it? Why would he be mad though? Did he seem mad that night? Did you do something that guaranteed this... Whatever this is? As far as you knew, you did not say anything that warranted a silent treatment from him. Did you? Wait, is he actually giving you the silent treatment?

Ugh.

When Thursday came, you found yourself watching their fourth game on TV together with Nayeon. You got a slight whiplash because it felt like your first time seeing Jungkook’s face in a long while. Somehow, he looked even better on TV, and he was so serious whenever the camera caught him. You supposed he ought to be, but you’ve never seen him that serious before. He would smile whenever they scored, and maybe it was a little embarrassing for your heart to do a little jump when you saw that toothy grin again, after so long.

You were slow to understand shit about the game, but you got the whole gist of it eventually.

Unfortunately, though, the tight game resulted to your university losing in the end.

You wanted so badly to text him something, anything, but you felt like you weren’t on texting terms, so you went to your Instagram and sent Jungkook a direct message.

[11:58pm] ynblips: Hi! I watched the game on TV and it was really tight and you did so well :)

You were mostly not expecting a reply, so you were only a little disappointed when you indeed didn’t get one even after a day passed. But he liked it, only liked it. Which kind of pissed you off.

What was his deal? You’ve gathered that you, apparently, weren’t on speaking terms, for some reason. But this was ridiculous. If he had a problem with you, he should be upfront about it. Not make you guess with this stupid giving-you-the-cold-shoulder thing when you didn’t even deserve it. For god’s sake, you knew that last meeting was awkward but you both usually do a good job of swerving those situations and moving on and acting casual! You’ve been casual for four months! This relationship was supposed to be easy. Smooth-sailing. So what changed now?

Nayeon noticed your crankiness earlier this day, and it concerned you, how much this whole thing was affecting you.

But you’ve grown tired of not knowing anything. You were tired of guessing why Jungkook was being like this.

So you were a woman with a mission today. You planned to talk to Jungkook so he could finally be a big boy and talk to you about his obvious problems with you. Because it had to be that, right? He wouldn’t talk to you because he had issues with you.

Later that day, your quest was made easy when you saw him at the library.

You’re only a little surprised with yourself when you walk towards his direction with the presence of many people around. Yeah, whatever.

“Hey,” you called.

You could see Jungkook’s eyes widening a little as he turns around to see you, his hand stopping from taking notes on his iPad as he looks up at you.

“Oh, hey,” he greets you, but you can see he is a little confused as he takes out his airpods. You never talked to him on school grounds whenever people were around. He neither did, though. It was a mutual agreement.

“We need to talk."

Jungkook looks in between you and the book and notes he was doing, and you would understand if he tells you to fuck off because he was busy – maybe not with those exact words because you’d probably take it to heart and cry about it, but he’s taken you by surprise when he says,

"Okay. Let me just fix this.” Jungkook closes his book and his iPad, stuffing them in his bag.

You anxiously tap your shoe on the floor, though not with sound, aware of the people looking at your interaction with the school’s basketball star player.

“Where to?” He asks as he slings his bag over his shoulder.

“Just, uh, follow me."

He surprisingly does without further questions, and you begin to second-guess yourself about being kind of mad at him for seemingly being mad at you. Maybe you were reading too much into these past few days? Maybe he really wasn’t mad at you and you just assumed so because he suddenly stopped texting you? It’s not that you needed an explanation for why he wasn’t talking to you suddenly. He had a life outside having a friends with benefits situation with you and you know that.

Jungkook stopped when you halted your steps at the far end of the library. It was the old theology section and no one really comes around here anymore so it was quiet and free of lingering, poorly hidden stares from other strangers, who you prefer to not be included in this conversation you are about to have.

Shit, should you have just texted him and told him to come over so you could talk more in private? But you doubted he would reply, and anyway, Nayeon would be home so you had no private space to do that.

"Okay,” you start. “Let’s talk."

Jungkook quirks a brow, leaning back on a cabinet.

You look at him one more time and sigh.

"You’ve been avoiding me.” You didn’t really mean to say it in such a heavy tone, but it came out that way and you couldn’t take it back.

Jungkook is caught off guard.

“Huh?"

You frown. "You’re avoiding me. And I don’t know why and I couldn't care less, usually, but I'm confused and I don’t want to guess anything with you so just say it now."

There, you’ve blurted it all out.

Jungkook took a long time, but you feel yourself getting angry when he only says, "I’m not upset with you."

Really? Really?! Is he really planning to to do this right now? What’s next, is he going to call you crazy for thinking that he was mad at you because he suddenly stopped talking to you altogether? Un-fucking-believable.

"I know you are, just say it.” You say, trying to balance your emotions. He really is gonna call you crazy if you lash out.

“I’m just busy with practice.” but the way he said it so dismissively, like he wanted to be anywhere but here right now, makes you frown even harder.

“You can’t even text me?” You called out. You didn’t know why you said that, because you did just tell yourself it wasn’t a big deal if he didn’t text you. But it doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt when he confirmed it.

“I don’t owe you an explanation."

You bite back your tongue. Wow, is he going for asshole today? But it hurt, because it was true. He didn’t need to give you an explanation. You weren’t anything important, and nor was he in your life, in any way, so why are you genuinely hurt by this?

When Jungkook noticed your silence, a flash of conflict in his expression, he decided to add, "Look…” he trailed off, as if not really having any idea what to say next. When he gave you that placating look, you knew he was about to say something that will completely piss you off.

“Is it about the sex? I’m sorry we haven’t been able to do that the past few days. Do you want to have sex today?”

You felt anger boiling in your chest as soon as he said that.

He really is going for asshole today.

What in the actual fuck? He thinks you’re confronting him because you haven’t been having sex? Why would he say that like you were just some desperate whore frothing in the mouth to bed him? Does he think of you so low like that? Did he not consider that maybe you were just genuinely concerned of feeling so distant to him right now?

You swallow the lump in your throat and scowl at him.

“You know what, fuck you. I asked you nicely what’s your problem with me.”

Jungkook was visibly surprised with your outburst, and you were disappointed in yourself to even show an ounce of reaction to that bullshit he just said.

But he just looks away, eager to avoid the look on your face. “You didn’t ask that, you went ahead and accused me of avoiding you when you’ve been doing the same thing."

"Oh, so you are admitting to avoiding me. What’s the issue? Say it.” You demanded. But Jungkook wasn’t having any of it.

“I don’t have a problem. What’s your problem? Why are you acting so upset about all of this?"

To even throw that on your face was cruel, and you think you saw a flash of hesitation on his face when he said that, but it was blank after a split second. It’s blank until now, like he doesn’t really give a shit.

Great.

"I just want you to talk to me if you’re upset with me about something.” You say, even though that wasn’t really what you intended to say. It felt like defeat.

You feel pathetic all of a sudden, remembering his words. Why are you so upset about all of this? Because clearly, you care. And apparently, he did not. He didn’t have to put that to words. He didn’t have the right to hurt you like this.

“Talk?” Jungkook repeats. “The last time we did that, you didn't seem to want to."

His words have a bite to them, like he means more than that. And that night flashes in your head. When he was opening up to you, and you chose to disengage by being cagey and avoiding it all together because you felt weird about it.

When you don’t answer, Jungkook sighs.

"I have practice in five minutes. I’ll see you around."

He doesn’t even say goodbye or spare you a last glance when he walks away.

You are a turtle.

Obviously, not literally. But turtles, when bombarded, reflexively duck their heads inside their shells to protect themselves before any damage could be done to them. And the same could be said about you.

You avoid problems like a champ. It’s the only sport that you’re really great at.

Growing up, you’ve never really had a lot of friends. You had a small circle in high school but you didn’t see a significant value in your connection. Maybe because you grew up in an environment where love was non-existent and the relationships in your house were transactional at best, still are. Until now, you have no idea if your parents loved each other at one point or if they were always like that; like two different strangers working jobs during the day that just happen to have the same house to go to at night so you and Jini have some people to call "mom” and “dad”. You guessed you’ll never know, but it was hard not to think that their relationship has always been the latter. Your relationship with your sister mirrors that of your parents’, though, so you can’t really criticize them for not acting like partners enough.

When you were young, you hated the way you approached friendship or any sort of relationships a lot. You hated how it was so easy for others to befriend one another, how it was easy for girls your age to have a life outside of studying. You hated how easy it was for other people to not build these sturdy walls whenever someone approached them. But you just kind of grew into it along the way…

Social networking is important for college, though, and you were forced to have friends but you did make friends willingly along the way. It was not that you are a total sociopath, nor do you think you are one. Nayeon was a sweetheart who was very likeable and you’ve had the pleasure of being roommates with her for two years now. You are close to a certain point, but it wasn’t like you were best friends. She was two years older than you and was on her last year of college and had her own close circle of friends. The closeness was a result of living a domesticated life with each other because you lived in the same house. But you genuinely like her.

And you’ve actually met more people you genuinely liked when you went to college, not just her. Like Taehyung. He was a fun conversationalist, and you feel like you could totally hit it off only if you weren’t too hesitant to befriend him. Juyeon is probably the most hardworking woman you’ve ever met, and most of your liking towards her has a lot to do with the respect and admiration you have for her. And then there was Namjoon. A guy two years your senior during your sophomore year who you've had a short fling with. He was a great guy whom you actually saw yourself dating, but it was a bit complicated. And then Jungkook…

Well… he was everything you imagined him not to be.

You still remember the first time you saw him during orientation day. He wore this huge white sweatshirt and light-washed cargo pants with some stomper boots, hair curly and so fluffy as he slung his bag over his shoulder, talking animatedly with a friend. You’ve had crushes in high school (like that one senior guy from the debate team who turned out to be an asshole so you got over it pretty quickly) but it was the first time you’ve ever felt so strongly like that. Your crush faded eventually though when you learned he was a jock.

However, the universe made different plans. You both had the same code for your first term Philo class and got partnered on a project, and unexpectedly, he turned out to be smart, kind, witty, so unbelievably handsome and attractive and actually wasn’t an asshole like you thought he was when you found out he played in the varsity team. That was the start of your pathetic minor pining over the guy and then four months ago happened.

You hit it off at a random party Nayeon told you to come with her to. Had enjoyable sex. And then another. Until you both talked about the agreement – the stupid agreement that you have now still.

You like him a lot. Always have. In more ways than one.

You were an expert at hiding your feelings so it never really got in the way. And anyway, you aren’t ready for a relationship so the arrangement has always been perfect for you.

But you hated that. Because, really? This part of your life feels like some pages taken out of a shitty young adult fiction book. Falling for the popular jock at school at the same time your fuck buddy. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. You weren’t supposed to like him more than you already have because you were both clear at what you wanted when you started it. But it happened and all those fun times with him at the abandoned lot and the soft kisses and gentle smiles and fond gazes and funny conversations and his stupid teasing are most likely going down the drain because you hurt him with your inability to face your feelings.

You aren’t stupid. You know Jungkook likes you too. You know the past few weeks have been dangerously teetering outside the line of being fuck buddies but you went along with it because who wouldn’t? What were you to do, anyway? Confront it? You’ve never been confrontational.

So when Jungkook tried to get to know more than your outer surface by opening up to you about things that probably no one other than you knew, you cowered.

You cowered because you were afraid of what that would entail.

You’ve never done it, opening up to people. You’ve never known anyone to a point like that. You just weren’t the type to get too close to others, them letting them you in their lives just as you let them in yours. That wasn’t who you were and you’ve always been contented with that for most of your life.

But it wasn’t fair to Jungkook and it wasn’t fair to you. It wasn’t fair to Jungkook because he deserved to know that you care. He deserves to know that you want to know him, too. You want to be close to him more than just the physical, sexual aspect of your relationship. You want to know his intentions behind the overly kind, almost special way he treats you, his caring words, the meaning behind his soft kisses after sex, the purpose behind those kisses that didn’t lead to sex.

And lastly, you want him to know that you were sorry for the other night.

So when another Friday rolled, you finally mustered up the courage to go to his game. It was the last one, after all. You wanted to show up.

The venue was crowded and chaotic and you wanted to ditch but you decided it was fine. You were gonna endure it if it meant you finally got to see Jungkook physically in court.

And saw him, you did. Even though you were in the middle row seats and wearing a cap because you oddly felt unwelcomed and didn’t want to be seen by him – as if he would even want to see you. But it was whatever.

Jungkook was… amazing. That was really the only adjective you could use to describe how he was. Maybe you were a little biased but he was the greatest out of all the ten people running around the court. He just stood out, even when someone else did the good job of scoring.

And people around you seemed to think so too because whenever he did get to score or was the one holding the ball or his face got shown on the huge screen, everyone just lost it.

The match was tight again so it bled into five games. Your Uni just needed to win the last one and they would successfully bring the trophy home.

You found yourself silently cheering for your team, specifically Jungkook, though it felt strange to you because this was your first sports game, after all. But it felt good to do it. It also felt good to see other people so passionate at cheering him on as well as his team, especially after you read all that hate against him on the internet the other week.

And it felt especially great when they did win in the end of it all.

The stands went wild as the game finished with your Uni scoring a solid 105 and 96 for the other.

You’ve stayed long to see Jungkook being awarded the MVP title, but not long enough to find it difficult to get an Uber as you went home.

Nayeon got to your place later than you, but you learned that she wasn’t at the game earlier but was in a study group instead.

You ordered dinner for the both of you, just some Chinese that you quickly finished up.

By 11 pm, you were panicking.

You had a solid plan yesterday. You were supposed to go to Jungkook and apologize to him and whatever but how the hell were you going to do that when you had no idea where he was now? Ugh. You should’ve approached him after the games earlier! But you didn’t feel comfortable doing that with so many people around…

You saw your phone on your night stand and got an idea to just text him. But you didn’t know if he was going to respond. If he was going to tell you to fuck off, you at least didn’t want to receive that through text.

So you opted for the last and craziest option you’ve got.

[11:08pm] You: Hello, Taehyung! I know we haven’t talked in a while and I’m sorry for texting you now, I just have some questions if you don’t mind :) Congrats on winning Finals by the way, it was a great game.

You anxiously wait for his reply that you received not even a minute after you sent your text.

[11:08pm] K. Taehyung: hi __ HAHAHHA im a bit surprised to see your name on my phone!! we’ve never gotten around having that coffee 😅 but thank you for the congrats! hit me with those questions i don’t mind [11:09pm] You: It’s a real bummer that we’ve both been so busy ): [11:10pm] You: But I was wondering if you know where Jungkook is? Last week he lent me a jacket when he saw me pour a drink on myself at some cafe, haha. So I was thinking I should give it to him now but I have no idea how to

Listen, it wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t a complete lie either. You indeed needed to find Jungkook, and he lent you a jacket weeks ago which you needed to return but you forgot about it and conveniently remembered it just earlier when you were trying to conjure up an excuse to see him.

[11:10pm] K. Taehyung: oh i was actually just talking to him awhile ago. he wouldn’t go to the after-game party. said he was gonna stay up all night to play overwatch or something [11:10pm] K. Taehyung: I can text you his address if you want to come over like right now

You feel like you aren’t supposed to just give your friends’ addresses away like that but it is flattering to think that Taehyung must trust you enough to not assume you were a psychopath serial killer or something.

[11:11pm] You: Yes, please. Thank you so much, Taehyung. Catch up on that coffee hang another time

You got an Uber to drive to his place. You tried not to think too much about the fancy complex and how there were elevators instead of just stairs like yours but you managed to get to Jungkook’s place through Taehyung’s text.

You pressed a button upside the knob. It created a loud buzz and you tighten your fingers around the ribbon handles of the paper bag that got his jacket inside.

It was the perfect excuse. You did need to return it to him. And if you got too flustered or scared to talk to him further, you were just going to leave right after he takes it from you and just accept the fact that he probably really hates you now because you were mean and—

The door opens, revealing Jungkook. A shirtless, wet Jungkook.

“Oh."

Jungkook has a hint of shock in his eyes when he comes face to face with you. You’ve never been here, for the record. And he was probably wondering how the hell you got his address.

"Uh,” you start. You thrust the paper bag towards him. “Here. It’s your jacket from weeks ago. I washed it already. Thanks for lending me it.”

You see his hesitation when he takes it from you, and it makes your nerves go haywire.

Jungkook mumbled a little thanks. He stood there for a moment, probably still not getting the shock out of his system. As each second passed, you felt the need and the urge to go, but his voice cut that idea in your head.

“Uh. Do you wanna come in?"

"Yes.” Maybe it was too much of an immediate answer, but you needed to. If you were to stand outside much longer, your courage will wear down and you might miss an opportunity to talk to him.

Jungkook stepped aside and further invited you in. Your steps were a little shy as you followed him inside, watching as he took a pair of Nike sliders and offered it to you as you removed your birkens off your feet.

“Thank you.” You tell him, sliding your feet on the slippers that were definitely too big for you.

He gave you a small smile in return. That gave you a bit of hope that it would go well tonight.

“I’m just gonna go and change into something. You can sit here,” You followed behind him into the living room of his rather huge flat. Really, this was more of a condo unit than an apartment. “There's– sorry. I wasn't– it’s kind of messy here right now but I was busy the past few days. It’s not usually like this here."

Jungkook hastily arranged the scattered throw pillows on the couch. You even hear him hissed as he picked up a bowl and some take-out trash on the coffee table. He reached for something in the tight corner of the couch, holding up a remote awkwardly for you.

He quickly looked away from you though, turning to his huge TV (it was literally a jumbotron) and making it light up. It showed some kind of game on pause.

"I’m sorry, I was playing something earlier. Uh, do you want to play anything? I have a lot of games.” He continued to say.

And you realized Jungkook was panicking. He was rambling, talking words over his own words, jumping from one thing to another and hastily cleaning up the space in the living room.

It was… adorable. The way he was kind of scrambling… to accommodate you? Eh. But it was nice. Nice to know that you aren’t the only one panicking.

“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t really play anything.” You say honestly. You don’t like gaming. It’s stressful.

“Oh…” Jungkook trails off then his eyes set on the kitchen. “Oh shit wait, do you want water? Tea? I don’t think I have tea but I think I can look for something?"

You couldn’t help the laugh that came out from your mouth but you quickly cut yourself off.

"Sorry. Uhm. No. I don’t want anything.” Truthfully, you wanted water but Jungkook needed to change into something immediately. You may not exactly be talking talking right now but his body and tattoos were nice to look at and you didn’t want it to distract you too much. It felt wrong to admire him like that when you were not exactly in great terms.

“You sure?” When you nodded, Jungkook did the same too, but more like to himself. “Okay. I’ll just get to my room."

You sat on his nice leather couch and looked around as Jungkook changed.

It was such a nice place. You could see that it was indeed expensive. The space was definitely, like, three times larger than your own and it even seemed to have another room on the far end. You didn’t know if Jungkook lived alone, he never mentioned anything about it.

You still didn’t find yourself completely relaxed as Jungkook emerged from his room.

The fringe of his bangs are still wet from his shower, but he’s now changed into a grey hoodie with matching shorts.

"Hey,” he said as he walked towards you and sat on the couch. The distance was far but not totally that you end up being on the opposite sides.

“Hi,” you greeted him back. “You have a nice place."

He smiles. "Thank you."

The atmosphere was incredibly awkward, you could feel that. But you pushed yourself to go through it.

"Congrats on the game earlier.” You tell him sincerely.

“Ah… thanks."

"I went there."

"Really?” You could see the understandable surprise in his face after hearing your words. “I didn’t see you."

You chuckle lightly. "Hm. You were too serious and busy in the court to see me.”

Jungkook shyly looks away.

“I– well. You should have told me. I could’ve gotten you a nice seat. Did you get a nice seat?” The sentiment was cute but surprising at the same time. After that time in the library, you wouldn’t have expected him to get you a nice seat.

“It was okay."

It didn’t look like he would say anything more, but you were a little relieved to have a break from the atmosphere when the door buzzed again, indicating someone coming.

You feel your heart jump.

You didn’t know why your mind went to such dark places like him having someone over to do– what? Ugh. Jungkook wouldn’t do that, would he? Honesty was what you agreed on when you started this agreement. You promised to tell each other right away if you start sleeping with other people because of health reasons.

"That must be the pizza.” Jungkook murmurs as he stands up.

You almost sigh in relief.

Okay. So no other women coming over.

Jungkook comes back a moment later with three boxes.

“I thought we could eat something,” he said as he sat on the couch again, this time a little closer than earlier. He looked at the TV, still on that game he was playing. He placed the pizza on the table and took the remote to exit out of his game, pressing some buttons on it and eventually the screen loaded to Netflix. “You wanna watch something?"

That would be nice, actually.

"Yep."

"Okay… uh. Legally Blonde?"

You couldn’t help your eyebrow from raising.

Jungkook laughs a little. You’re a little surprised to hear it. It felt like eons ago since you’ve heard it.

"I like it a lot.” He shrugged and then looked it up on Netflix, clicked the movie poster and pressed play.

You start eating the pizza on the couch. You were obsessed with Legally Blonde probably an abnormal amount but this time, its entertainment didn’t affect you full force because at the back of your head, you’re still trying to figure out how to speak up the words you really wanted to say to Jungkook.

“Hey…” you suddenly speak. You hesitate for a while but then let out a heavy breath. Jungkook looks at you because of that. “I’m sorry."

His confusion was anticipated. He face looks like he was ready to ask, but you continue,

"About the other night. Uh. When you went over. I’m sorry. I made you feel like I didn’t care but…” you train your gaze to the remote on the corner of the couch. “But I do, Jungkook. I care about you. It’s just that, it freaked me out, you know? People never felt comfortable enough with me to share such personal things and I’ve always been okay with that because I’m not exactly—” you cut yourself off, trying to organize your thoughts. But you give up because there was no use in doing such. You wanted to be honest as much as possible. “I know I don’t exactly strike people as someone who can care. And, well, that’s true, you know? People always tell me that I almost function like a robot. So, uh, I freaked out, because I thought you trusted me enough to do that and I felt like I didn’t deserve it, your trust I mean. And so I acted like that because I didn’t know what—”

“Hey,” Jungkook stopped you before you could go on a full spiral. You didn’t notice because of your rambling earlier but he was closer this time. “Breathe. It’s fine. I have all the time to listen to you."

It was such a sweet sentiment, paired with his charming smile. You feel your heart jump and look away from his gaze.

"Baby,"

There. He’s calling you that name again. Has he forgiven you? Were you both on that terms again? But he couldn’t have forgiven you that fast!

"Baby, look at me,” you did, because he held your face in his warm hands, making you look at him. You could feel your cheeks tingle in his hold. “I’m actually so glad you came here tonight. I appreciate your apology, and I accept it.” He says, voice sounding so sincere.

You looked down, feeling like you don’t deserve it at all.

“I’ve been thinking, you know?” Jungkook lifts your chin up with his fingers, smiling, such mirth behind it that you think he was probably thinking you were going to tease him about his words. But you didn’t feel like joking with him right now. “I totally didn’t think things through that night. I shouldn’t have told you all about my personal drama—"

Oh, no. That’s exactly what you thought you made him feel that night, and for him to verbalize it, it hurts you. Because you knew you truly made him feel that way. It wasn’t your intention but you knew your reaction –or lack thereof– threw him off.

"No, no. I should have—"

"No, ___, I shouldn’t have dumped all of that onto you expecting you to have a say about it and be disappointed and extremely hurt when you didn’t. We don’t know each other a lot, I know that." He gives you a sheepish smile. "I guess I just... I wanted us to know each other a little better you know? But I must’ve freaked you out instead and made you uncomfortable with me telling you all about those when we made it clear that this relationship was never going to be like that, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for dumping. I kind of… realized that... maybe you just wanted some lazy time with me that night. So I’m sorry. I believe you're also apologetic about it, but I’m saying don’t be. It was all on me."

Jungkook’s words were a jumbled mess in your head that you were surprised to even get them.

"I–no, no. Kook– I… told you, I care about you. I—” you felt a metaphorical block in your head, and it made you cut yourself off. But then you remember his words and so you continue, “I didn’t just– look. It was unexpected, and I told you I just freaked out because I didn’t know where we stood and I just felt like I wasn’t deserving to know you like that. But I care a lot about you.”

Jungkook was quiet for a while, and you feared he was contemplating and thinking you were just lying to get over everything with. But then his face softens at your words. “I care a lot about you, too,” He says, and then it contorts a little, as if he remembered something. “That’s why I’m also… I’m also sorry about that time at the library. I was a complete asshole to you. I wanted to be mean because I was hurt but none of it was your fault. I really am sorry."

Your head takes you back to that time in the library. He did hurt you with the harsh words he’d spoken, but his apology sounded sincere and you believe it.

"Yeah. Uhm. I’m sorry about cornering you there. I should’ve texted you that I wanted to talk but I wasn’t sure if you were going to reply."

Jungkook looked a little shameful for reasons that you couldn’t think of.

"I’m sorry about that. I acted like such a boy about the whole thing. You don’t deserve to be ghosted suddenly because you hurt my feelings without you even really knowing why. I should’ve talked to you properly."

You bite your lip, feeling like you were suddenly going to cry.

You know it was the bare minimum, and even though he said you had nothing to be sorry about, you still feel oddly emotional about someone apologizing to you. You’d never been apologized to sincerely even when a lot of people have done you wrong and hurt you before. They always thought you didn’t care or just got over things quickly because apparently, people had the impression that you weren’t the type to feel anything.

"I like you a lot.” You blurt out.

It was stupid. It was so stupid to say that in the middle of this conversation, but your mouth was running faster than your brain and you couldn’t help it.

“Really?” Jungkook grins, and it was quite big. Your heart beats faster in your chest. “I really like you, too. Like, a lot. Probably more than you do.”

You meet his eyes finally. They hold such fondness for you, and you’ve always noticed. But you brush it away just as it shows. Regular, old, __. Always pushing away people who like her.

Right now, you’re berating yourself for pointedly ignoring that before, but his dark eyes serve as a distraction. They were so ominous and so big and looked like they had the stars in them. And he was so handsome. Suddenly, your gaze falls to his lips and quickly trains to the mole under the bottom one. You’ve always wanted to kiss it but never did so because… because, well. It would be weird, right? But then you remember that Jungkook always kisses that mole in between your chest...

You blush at the thought and look away.

“That’s nice.” You said, not really knowing how to respond.

Jungkook chuckled and twisted himself to look forward again, at the TV playing Legally Blonde.

It was like that for a while and you found that the weight you’ve been carrying all week on your back felt like it’s been lifted, finally.

This night was going really, really well.

And so well it went.

Legally Blonde ended and you and Jungkook somehow ended up being closer. So close that his arm just found its way around your shoulders, your leg across his, his other arm wrapped around that leg to pull you impossibly closer to him onto the next film.

It’s been half an hour into the new movie but if you were honest, your brain wasn’t really on it. It was on how Jungkook held you delicately, his mouth pressing kisses on the crown of your head occasionally, almost absentmindedly. Your thoughts were filled with the soft, gentle caresses of his hand on your leg, and how you would feel his eyes even when you weren’t looking. It was all so tender and just so, so incredibly nice.

When you yawned, Jungkook immediately checked on you with a light chuckle.

“Sleepy?” He asks.

You shake your head but another yawn forced its way out of your mouth again. You let your head fall dramatically on his chest as he laughed.

“I gotta go…” you said, thinking that it’s probably late as hell and dark outside. But you found that you really didn’t want to. The material of his hoodie was so soft and his presence was so calming and it sounded undeniably cheesy but you wanted to be held by him a little more.

“You could stay."

That made you look up at him.

"Huh?"

"You can stay here, if you want. Sleep over."

"Oh."

A flash of hesitation on his beautiful face.

"Only if you want to, of course. I’ll drive you home if you wanna go.” He offers quickly, as if embarrassed to even suggest the thing he said earlier.

But you did want to stay. But… he never stayed over at your place. You didn’t let him and he never expressed a little bit of desire to do so, anyway. Would it be unfair if he never slept over at yours but you would at his now? What did your conversation today change? When he said “I like you”, did that mean it was okay for you to stay the night?

“Uhm, I’d like to stay here, if it’s okay with you.” You said, throwing your inhibitions away. There was no room for more denials in your heart.

Jungkook’s bright grin made your worries subside. He definitely wants you to stay as much as you do.

“Okay."

"It’s okay for you? Sorry, I don’t have a lot of pillows…” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you sheepishly.

You waved him off. “It’s fine. Hey, come here now."

Jungkook did a poor job of hiding a big grin again as he slid on the bed with you.

When you twisted yourself so your back was facing him, about to reach for your phone on the night stand to see if Nayeon replied to your text telling her you wouldn’t be home until morning, Jungkook also did the same and wrapped his arm around your waist, basically spooning you.

And you realized that oh, he’d mistaken you for wanting to be a little spoon…

But it was cute. And you really like him holding you, so you pretended it was your intention all along and mentally noted to check your phone tomorrow morning.

"You smell good.” He said against your ear. You smiled at the way it tickled a bit.

“I don’t think I do anymore, but thanks.”

You showered right after coming home as the game ended but that was many hours ago, so surely Jungkook must just be speaking nonsense. And anyway, he was the one who smelled nice because he did just get out of the shower. He smelled like that certain apple scent he always did.

“No, really. Like flowers. I always liked that about you."

"Eh, it’s probably just my bath and body works body wash."

"Really?” You felt him sniff up your arm and you giggled. That reaction encouraged him to do it more until his nose reached your armpit. It tickled so much that you thrashed and turned and bit his arm. His laughter got louder as you did so, but you only pouted at him.

“Okay, sorry, sorry,” Jungkook said but he didn’t look like it. You didn’t expect it but he suddenly kissed your forehead. Your eyes reflexively closed at the feel of his lips on your skin.

You open them once again only to see Jungkook staring into your eyes again, quite intensely that you feel like he was there looking right into your soul.

“I missed you.” He whispered, his hand that was around your waist tightening, the other clearing up your face from stray hairs.

“I really missed you too.” you said as sincerely as you could. Because you really did, and you hope he could feel it and believe it just like you did his words.

A few seconds after and then his lips finally touched yours and it was such a relief that you sighed against them. It was a slow kiss. Sweet and too short but you didn’t really mind when Jungkook looked at you again like you hung the stars in the sky.

“Let’s sleep baby, turn around for me again.” He said and you wanted to reprimand him for ordering you around but you didn’t really feel like you needed to. You didn’t really have complaints about being the little spoon in this cuddling session, anyway.

It was only about a minute of silence when Jungkook suddenly spoke.

“Babe, I know I’m probably going to ruin this wholesome moment but can I hold your boob while we try to sleep?"

And you couldn’t help but laugh because who wouldn’t.

"Go for it.” You said, settling against his chest, getting more comfortable. Jungkook was only too happy to let you, letting out a low happy hum as he held you tighter, another hand wandering inside the worn out shirt you were wearing that he lent you for the night.

The contact was cold to the touch at first, but when he gave you a squeeze and finally rested his hand over there, it got warm eventually.

Having a weight on top of your boob while sleeping was definitely a new concept for you, but you found that it was oddly comforting.

There was nothing sexual to it, not really. And you thought Jungkook didn’t really have any sexual intentions to begin with.

It was just nice to have his hand on your breast.

“So soft,” Jungkook whispered at some point and you just chuckled in between putting yourself in slumber.

It’s been hard to settle in bed peacefully the previous nights after that debacle weeks ago, but that moment, you slid to dreamland quite easily; and you were certain it was due to Jungkook’s warm body all over yours.

EPILOGUE

( ONE MONTH LATER )

You have awoken in a feverish feeling brought by the dream of a certain man drawing all kinds of shapes on your clit with his skillful tongue. At first, the sensation felt far away, like it was just a distant memory, but you suddenly feel a seemingly too real grip on your thighs and a tentative swipe over the length of your nether region.

When you blearily open your eyes, the sunlight intruding through the seams of your room, you caught a sight of a very real man’s head in between your legs, his dark hair pulled by a headband as he determinedly pleasures your pussy.

“Jungkook,” you sigh, blindingly reaching for his head.

He hums in your pussy, and it sends a jolt right up your spine. He felt you jumping a little, and that earned a chuckle from him. The vibration of it in your aching heat made your legs quiver.

“Good morning, baby."

It was a little disorienting to wake up to Jungkook eating you out so early in the morning, but the pleasure overrode it as you throw your head back on your soft pillows, twisting your face to the side and burying it on the fluffy material as Jungkook sucks on your clit, his finger teasing over the lips of your pussy.

”Ah, that feels so good…" you moan, thrashing on the bed at the delight brought by his tongue. But Jungkook’s strong hold kept your legs wide for him to have complete access to your wet cunt which he’s licking like it was a meal he’s always wanted to have.

“Wanna make you feel good,” he said, beginning to place open mouthed kisses on your pussy that delivered delirious shivers all over your body. He emphasized his sentiment by bringing two fingers in your hole, sliding them in and out quite easily as you felt yourself gushing every second from his actions. “So wet. You love this, angel? You like what I’m doing?"

All you could give him was a pathetic little whimper that you hope he understood as he didn’t bother to wait for your response and proceeded to wrap his mouth on your clit again, his tongue flicking the sensitive bud with the steady way his fingers slipped in and out of you, lewd squelches filling the otherwise quiet room except for the chirping bird outside.

And it sounded oddly poetic.

So peaceful. Oh, to wake up like this everyday.

Your grasp on his hair tightened, bringing his face closer to your pussy that you even got a hold of his headband, but you didn’t care. All you could think about was how delicious Jungkook is speeding his fingers in your entrance, long and bony digits touching every ridge of your pussy, slowly but surely sending you to your edge. Your breath quickened every second passed, and now you could say you were fully awake.

Jungkook broke away from you and you were just about to reprimand him about it when he suddenly licked a long, slow stripe over the wet length of your entrance and you cried out.

You were nearly brought to tears when he dove in your core again to repeat his actions from earlier, but this time, he went for messy. So sloppy; his head moving around your pussy, sucking your juices with enthusiasm and making your arch your back on the mattress, his finger rubbing your clit to bring you to your orgasm.

And he did successfully bring you to it. He did with what seemed to sound like a painful groan of your name from his throat, a husky sound that made your pussy and legs quiver. But that didn’t stop Jungkook from lapping at the cum that dripped out.

You let out a big breath, making yourself bounce on the bed as you fell to it. Exhausted. Spent.

"Kook,” you nudged Jungkook with your foot to his bicep because he was doing that thing again.

“Wanna clean you up."

You roll your eyes. It was so counterproductive but you let him be for awhile, relaxing on your back as he quite literally slurped the gush that came and is still coming out from you. That was why him "cleaning you up” was useless.

“Let me suck your cock.” You said, nudging him again. Jungkook peeled his head from between your legs and looked at you, and you nearly moaned at finally seeing his face. He looked insanely hot with his hair around his sweaty hearline pulled by that head band, but the sheen gloss all over his mouth to his chin made you feel just a little shy.

“Really?” Jungkook asked again, eyes wide, like he was a kid about to receive his gifts from Santa on Christmas morning.

You only hummed, bringing your body in a sitting position. Jungkook grabbed your waist, about to kiss you, but you pushed him on the bed and slid your leg over his thighs, leaning down to make quick work of pulling his boxers down that had a little wet patch on the front and a huge boner that was just begging to be freed.

Jungkook sighed when you get a hold of his length, not wasting time to tease because as much as you wanted to, you were impatient to taste him and make him cum.

“F-fuck,” Jungkook curses as you pumped his cock, your thumb pressing on his leaking tip. “You’re so pretty, baby."

His groan is elongated as you finally put him in your mouth. You make yourself comfortable by kneeling inside his spread legs, leaning down closer to his crotch and twisting your head to the side so that you could gather your hair in one side. It was always hard to reach deep, but you make do of your hand, twisting your fingers around the remaining length that your mouth could not take.

It didn’t take too long for Jungkook to shake and start speaking sweet nonsense in the wake of his impending orgasm, probably because he had been holding back since he ate you out. But you worked as hard, sucking on his tip, brushing your fingers over his balls here and there, pumping his wet cock in your hand, ignoring the tears that’s forming in the corners of your eyes.

“Baby, I’m cumming,” he warned, holding the back of your head to try and get you off but you insisted and let him release in your mouth.

Jungkook hissed, and you leaned back to jerk his cock for any more cum, swallowing the one in your mouth that you felt had gotten to some parts of your face so you try to lick over your mouth, tasting cum there. He was still cumming, though, just a little, it spurting on your chest and chin.

You giggled as Jungkook groaned. When you were sure you milked him dry, you let yourself flop on his naked body, draping yourself over it even though he was kind of sweaty and sticky… but you don’t really mind. You were just gonna shower later.

“You’re a minx.” He said, chuckling, his arm going around your waist and the other resting over one bare ass cheek.

“I live to make you suffer.” you replied, rubbing your cheek against his chest then pressing kisses to it.

“You’re winning."

That made you laugh.

After a while, you remove your head on his chest and look down on him. He arches a brow, waiting. And then you dropped your mouth to the mole under his bottom lip. You giggled because Jungkook wasn’t expecting it, shown by the confusion on his face. Before he could say anything, you lock your lips with his, sighing when he reciprocated your kiss right away.

The kiss takes a U-turn as Jungkook flipped you over so he was the one hovering over you now, hands roaming around your body sending tingles all over your spine to your toes and heat between your legs as he squeezed your breasts.

He squished the both of them in his huge palms, and you feel his cock twitch against your thigh when he did so, so as the gush of wetness coming from your pussy as he finally dropped his mouth to suck on your pebbled nipples.

”___, are you—oh my god I’m so sorry!“

Jungkook and you quickly looked over your door, catching Nayeon just as she scrambled to close it.

"Shit.” You hissed.

Jungkook looked at you. And then you both get off of each other, him going for the sweats he’d folded on a swivel chair in your room, and you putting on your robe and messily tying your hair in a bun with a hair tie.

“I’m just gonna go outside and talk to her…” you trail off, watching as Jungkook puts his pants on.

“Okay,” he went over to you, holding your face and leaning down to kiss you. “Sorry."

You licked your lips as he broke the kiss, couldn’t help but smile.

"It’s fine."

When you went out, Nayeon is at the kitchen drinking water. When she saw you, you gave her an awkward smile.

She frowned. "I’m really so, so sorry, ___. I swear I didn’t know you had someone over. I just got back from the overnight study group I texted you about last night and it’s 8 am so I thought I could wake you up for class."

You find yourself smiling genuinely at her explanation. You wave her off and went over to grab a drink of water as well.

"It’s fine. Our prof actually emailed us last night that our 8 am class was gonna be cancelled today so technically my first class is gonna be at 10. But I’m also supposed to be getting ready, so…"

Nayeon hummed and drank more of her water.

You were just waiting for it. You knew she was so gonna ask you about it. You were kind of nervous but you found that you actually didn’t care that much to tell her all about Jungkook.

So when she finally did ask, you only looked sheepish.

"So, Jeon Jungkook, huh?"

You nod.

"I should’ve known!” Nayeon exclaimed. “You were suddenly interested about basketball and– no, I’m not gonna lie. I did not expect that."

You bit your lip as you hid half of your face behind the rim of the glass. "Yeah…"

Nayeon suddenly narrowed her eyes at you, and you hold yourself to prepare for what’s next.

"He was your sneaky link all this time?"

Your eyes widened. "No!” But then you quickly remembered that, technically, he was. But… “but not really. I mean, not anymore?"

You weren’t sure, though. Your relationship with Jungkook for the past month had undergone a shift. You were purely fuck buddies before, and now you fuck and see each other for more than that. You sleep over almost twice a week at his place, have movie nights. He let you know about this game Animal Crossing and you’ve been obsessed since so sometimes you really just go over his place to play it. (Your island was seriously becoming pretty.) Also, you started grabbing lunch regularly these days in his car and go on what you can call dates if both your schedule aligned and it’s not that you were actively keeping other people from knowing about this sudden change in your relationship, including Nayeon, it was just — your time together was really just spent for pure enjoyment with each other. It was just like: if people saw, then they do.

Despite that, a label still wasn’t put to it.

You don't mind.

"Oh, so–your boyfriend?!” Nayeon’s tone is laced with surprise, and you flinched at hearing the word boyfriend but you shrugged it off.

“Uhm, it’s very new.” Was what you replied. It was the only thing you could offer, honestly.

Your friend looked at you for a few seconds and then nods, as if understanding – what? you have no idea – and then turned to the direction to your room.

You see Jungkook popping out from your door when you looked over.

“Hi, Nayeon."

When he emerged, he’s fully dressed and it was a bummer that he’d taken out his head band. Whatever, you’d make him wear it later. It was really cute when he wore it.

"Ohh, here comes the sexy man."

The casualty of it threw you off a bit but then you suddenly feel grateful to Nayeon for not making a big deal about the whole thing.

So you laughed and joked, "Don’t say that! You’re going to stroke his ego."

Nayeon’s right eyebrow raised. "Oh, his ego is definitely getting stroked, alright."

Even Jungkook burst out laughing at the crude implications of her words, and you found the whole thing atrocious. Nayeon only shook her head, but she was smiling.

"Sorry for interrupting your time together, lovebirds. I brought something for breakfast but I don’t think it’ll be enough for two people.” She said, pointing towards a take-out bag on the kitchen counter.

“It’s fine, thanks Nayeon."

She waved you off. "I’ll just be in my room. Eat first before you do cardio, guys."

You huff out a laugh at her words again, and so did Jungkook. He walked towards you as Nayeon disappeared in her room, and you smiled at him as he did so.

Jungkook held your waist and pressed you a little to the refrigerator, but you have no complaints in the way he leaned down to share a slow and soft kiss with you.

"Breakfast?” He whispered, kissing your cheek. And then your nose.

You giggled, circling your arms around his neck. He hummed at the contact, like he’s always so content and peaceful whenever you touch him.

“I think I’ll just get coffee on my way to Uni.” you told him.

That made him frown, though. “That’s really not…” you arched your brow as you wait for him to finish his words. He sighed. “Okay. But at least eat some toast? I’ll make it for you."

You nod. "Okay. I’m gonna go shower first, though. I stink."

As if prompted, Jungkook quickly buried his face to the crook of your neck and whiffed out your scent, dramatically smelling you and then peeling his face away, saying, "Nope, still smell like flowers to me. But I agree, we need a shower."

"We?"

He gives you a serious look. "Yes. Water conservation is one of my goals this year."

You jab on his chest lightly. So stupid. But so handsome and cute that you can’t help but pull him close to you and kiss him again.

Suddenly, Jungkook grabbed your thighs and make you hold on to him as he carried you across the living room. You stopped your own squeal before you could scare Nayeon with it. Jungkook laughed at that and you slap his chest in retaliation.

He went straight to the bathroom and put you on the counter with all the intentions to keep making out with you by the way he was swirling his tongue deliciously against yours, hands squeezing your sides.

But you really had to shower.

He whined when you put your hands on his shoulders and broke free from his kiss, pushing him away a little.

"Don’t be a baby. Let’s shower,” you said, giving him a stern look. He looked petulant for a while, but then suddenly smirked. You narrowed your eyes, pretty sure he had dirty things in his head right now. “No funny business. You literally have class in an hour."

"I could make you cum in less than that."

"Jungkook!"

He laughed, kissing you. "I’m kidding.”

“Behave. Nayeon is here."

He only nodded and began taking his clothes off. You also removed your robe from your body, going over to the towel rack to hang it there. Jungkook stopped in his tracks and shamelessly ogled your naked form and you rolled your eyes, not waiting for him as you stepped in the shower first. He followed right after, smiling at you as he offered to wash your body.

Jungkook assured you he had no funny business in mind, but you didn’t really mind when his hands suddenly got grabby, when he told you that his hands could lather your body wash more effectively than your loofah just so he could massage your boobs in his soapy palms, staying a little too long over there. But you didn’t complain when his finger ghosted over your pussy, and you absolutely weren’t mad when he kissed you hotly as the shower ran and water soaked the soap suds out of your body.

In fact, you enjoyed it a lot when he pressed you against the wall while his strong arms held you tight as he fucked you open, gasping in your mouth, grunting about how pretty you were and how much you were such a good girl for him.

He spoke more nonsense in your ear when he turned you around, an arm tight around your breasts, his other hand gripping your waist as he slid his engorged cock in and out of you from behind while you tried to minimize the sound of your cries until you both came.

You know Jungkook knew his goal to conserve water was doomed from the very start, especially when you ended up taking a second shower because you felt sticky and just unclean.

But it felt great to come out of the bathroom and have Jungkook dressed the same time as you with the clothes he left in your closet from the other times he’s spent over here.

"I’ll see you later.” He pressed a quick kiss on your mouth.

“Okay,” he smiled and you failed to resist the urge to kiss him again for the last time. “I’m coming over to play Animal Crossing."

"You only like me for my Nintendo…” Jungkook jokingly narrowed his eyes at you and you laughed.

“It took you a long time to figure out?”

Jungkook pouts. “As long as you curl up in my lap while you play it, I can accept that.”

“You’re cute, baby. But you’re late to class, go scram.” You shooed him and he chuckled.

“Okay, kiss me again?” You did. Jungkook smiled and kissed you but on the forehead this time. “Bye, pretty."

You leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed as you watched him slowly disappear from your pathway with (certainly) a fond look on your face.

Blurring the lines with your fuck buddy might be cliche, and confronting it might have been hard, but you did it. And he was just as willing and honest with you about his feelings.

And it was worth it.

#fic: cn&bl #jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #bts smut #jungkook fluff #bts imagines #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader

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wonysugar · 6 months

Text

sorry | yoo jimin

synopsis : her hands were always warm.

pairing : childhoodbff!karina x fem!reader

genre : all of us are dead au, angst (i’m sorry), childhood friends to lovers (?), high school au?

tags : zombie apocalypse, spoilers to the show?? it’s better if you watched it, so you get the refs ykyk, flashbacks, the entirety of aespa are in this, only karina is relevant tho

warnings : blood is mentioned, injuries are mentioned, implied dissociating i think, gross zombies, eating humans and stuff, you get it

word count : 2.4k

a/n : this was so self indulgent LOOK I FINISHED THE SHOW TODAY AND I SOBBED I NEEDED TO GET IT OUT ONE WAY OR ANOTHER💔💔also not proofread uhm looks around if you see any mistakes no you don’t! :]

“y/n, barricade the door.”

you stared at aeri as she yelled from across the classroom, fighting off another braindead zombie, barely winning and almost getting bitten. as a result, ning groaned, gathered up her courage and threw a chair at the walking dead that lunged at her friend. then, she stabbed the being’s neck before it got the chance to get up.

eventually, once she was spared a few moments to inhale and exhale, the japanese girl’s gaze met yours, eyebrows immediately furrowing afterwards.

“what are you staring at— barricade the fucking door, you dumbass?” she yelled, somehow louder this time, before having to stab another zombie in the neck with her pocket knife.

as if snapping out of a trance, you mentally slapped yourself, quickly looked around and rushed to grab the nearest desk, despite struggling to pick it up. then, you pushed it towards the sliding doors of the classroom afterwards. minjeong, the incredibly athletic girl she is, while also having heard the dozens of zombies running towards your location, quickly slid the other door shut and stacked another desk on top of the one you put.

you both reluctantly backed away, glancing at each other as if to seek reassurance from the other’s stare. you both listened closely for the sound of the impact from the zombies hitting the door, then unconsciously sighed from relief when you did hear it.

“thanks, sports girl.” you teased the short girl, snickering when she hit your shoulder playfully (which kinda hurt considering the strength she had, despite being seemingly petite.)

you felt the tension in your body fade away with each breath that was taken, you crumbled to the ground and allowed your body to get rest.

“also,” minjeong turns to look at aeri before addressing her, “you didn’t tell me you knew how to fight, who taught you?”

the girl in question runs her fingers through her hair as she groans, seemingly annoyed by the stupid question, before cheekily smiling, “i guess when you have to fight bitches every once in a while, you end up learning a few things.”

you all laughed, glad to be finally able to breathe and take a break from the constant amount of attacks you’ve endured up until this point.

“wait—“ placed ning before any of you said anything, readjusting her glasses nervously as she stumbled on her words,

“where’s jimin?”

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—“ she mumbled to herself in panic as she ran at full speed through the different hallways of the school, carrying the hard metal rod she found on the ground as a weapon whilst also escaping the army of things chasing after her, occasionally hitting unexpected obstacles left and right as hard as she could.

she felt her legs slightly giving out on her as she sprinted, the numerous injuries on her body bringing her a clear and not at all appreciated disadvantage. in a normal situation? she’d probably be limping and be annoying about it, asking her friends to carry her to class and whatnot,

however, this was a life or death situation, about 15 different zombies were behind her trying to devour her and half of her friends were probably a part of that same pile,

limping and being annoying to her friends wasn’t really an option right now.

“what do you mean she’s still out there???” you shot up, your blood running cold upon hearing that your best friend might’ve ended up being a 5 star course meal for the zombies, “you couldn’t have made sure she was with us before closing the door??”

“i couldn’t have done anything, genius, calling out to her while she’s trying to draw the attention of those fuckers from the other side of the school would just defeat the whole purpose.” sternly said the japanese girl, giving you back the same energy, also panicking for jimin in the process.

you walked back and forth in the room, pacing and trying to figure out where she possibly could have went, eventually groaning and stopping in front of the mean girl again, grabbing her shoulders, “so what?? she’s just dead now?”

“look, y/n, she’s probably just hiding in some classroom safe and sou—“

“i’m going after her. i’ll bring her back, you guys stay here.” you declared, immediately rushing to the backdoor.

“no, y-y/n—“ is what ning said, stuttering, before you bolted out of the classroom at full speed.

“okay well.. she’s definitely dying.” concluded minjeong before getting hit by a worried ning. “don’t say that—“ responded the latter.

“die you stupid fucking bitch diediediedie—“ exclaimed jimin, hitting the zombie that was clinging onto her foot and hissing at her with the same metal rod that she was carrying for what felt like several hours, grunting desperately with each hit, using every fibre of her body to kill it, until all of its blood splattered onto her.

after a while of it being unresponsive, she shakes its hand off of her shoe and watches its lifeless hand hit the ground. then gripping onto her femur injury trying to stop it from abundantly bleeding, shutting her eyes closed in hopes of making it somehow less painful. somebody on the level below her was screaming for their life, so all those braindead whores were away for a while. she was contemplating on how to run if they ever came back faster than expected, now that her brain has actually acknowledged the pain in her limbs, it was gonna be harder.

during that time, jimin couldn’t help but think about you, wondering if she was gonna be able to see you again, wondering if you were even alive. wondering if—

“jimin?”

that was your voice.

she recognized it better than her own.

“y/n.”

she immediately turned her head to look at the source of the noise, not being able to keep her flinch contained upon hearing it. then, upon realizing that you seemed fine, she couldn’t help sighing from relief.

but then she noticed that you were crying.

and you noticed that she was hurt.

rushing towards her, you quickly put your arm under hers for support and help her walk to near safety before the undead figured out you were here. you could think about the rest later, all that mattered was that she was okay.

walking into a seemingly empty classroom, you waited until something potentially jumped at you. after watching out for a couple of seconds, you set jimin down onto the ground carefully as you closed the door behind you. before you could even turn around, the older girl spoke,

“how did you even know where i was?” she asked, still huffing from the sprinting she’s been doing while trying to survive.

“your shoes are covered in blood, footsteps are not hard to follo—“

her nose.

blood.. was dripping from it.

it was bleeding.

her nose was bleeding.

she curiously raised her eyebrow at your sudden change in expression, “what happened? did a zombie scare you or something? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” she giggled.

“j-jimin?”

“what? seriously y/n, you’re scaring me. what is it?” she continued giggling only nervously, this time, in hopes of making you feel better, whatever it was that suddenly got you like this.

“y-your.. your n-nose..” you said, your voice barely above a whisper,

“it’s.. bleeding.”

“oh come on.. tell mee. your secrets are safe with me, i promiseee—” she pleaded with you, making a joking hand rubbing motion as you subtly laughed at her unfunny attempts to try and win you over. you could never let her know that she was funny; her ego would be too flattered.

“we’re in the middle of some sort of a zombie apocalypse and you’re still somehow managing to be annoying.” you joked with her, to which she pouted in response.

“ugh you’re no fun..“

“sorry that i’m trying to survive, jimin??” you said back using a sarcastic tone. she groaned and rolled her eyes before speaking again,

“look y/n, we’re probably gonna die anyway, okay? might as well die knowing everything about the other, don’t you think?” she tried reasoning with you, and yeah, while it did make a little bit of sense why she’d think that way, just in case you did survive, you had a dignity to keep.

you couldn’t just tell her that you’ve had a crush on her ever since you were kids.

“…what?” she said, her voice suddenly matching the volume of yours. blinking at you as her smile drops, distraught from the piece of information you just gave her, you can see a small nervous smile forming again as she approached her hand to her nose. “come on, you can’t make jokes like that they’re not funny at all man—“

red.

was that blood?

no, no, it couldn’t be. of course it wasn’t.

right?

when she looked back up at you, she noticed that you slightly backed away from her, still staring at her with nothing but pure fear in your eyes.

you weren’t scared of her, were you?

why would you be?

“man that doesn’t even taste that bad.” you affirmed, still not done chewing the fresh bibimbap, the taste of the absurd amount of wasabi you put on it not having fully hit you yet. she simply looked at you with hooded eyes, nodding at your claims like they completely made sense. she was patiently waiting for it, she was waiting for you to jolt at the actual taste.

and god was it funny when you did.

“f-fuck?? jimin oh mai fuck— jimin wawer— path me the wawer oh my—“

the sound of her own laughter resonating in the food court, everybody was staring at you two like you were crazy, and it was fortunate you physically weren’t able to laugh.

cause your two laughs mixed together sounded like one incredibly loud laugh, people knew you for it.

“next time, maybe don’t claim to tolerate something spicy when you’ve never even tasted it, got it?” she advised you, digging her hand into her bag as she looked for her water bottle, watching you eagerly nod. at that point? you needed to consume something that wasn’t wasabi.

“y/n i swear i didn’t get bitten i promise you it’s— it’s probably my blood pressure. yeah! m-maybe it’s too high or something i’m— i’m sure running was the c-cause.“

you quickly grabbed her hand as she was still sitting down.

cold.

it was cold.

“why are your hands always so fucking warm all the time? like— it could be -10 degrees celsius outside and your hands would still be warm.. i just don’t get it.” you questioned, holding onto her hand and observing it like it was some sort of rare object that needed to be analyzed.

your hands were always cold, it was no fair.

“maybe it’s just cause i have a really warm heart.” she said in a dramatic manner, naturally making you roll your eyes at her. then, when your eyes went back on her, you noticed something.

“hey jimin?” she hums in response, indicating you to continue, “where’d your name tag go?”

she chuckles, “oh, i was supposed to give it to someone, but then i ended up just losing it somewhere.”

you giggled as a reply, “fucking idiot.”

you choked back tears as she tried justifying herself, backing away further as she eventually got up from her seat on the ground. you heard the bones in her limbs slightly crack in the process, and you know she heard it too,

she just wanted to pretend like she didn’t.

tears rolled down her face as she stumbled on her words and her steps, the struggle to get air in her lungs growing bigger by the second, “y/n i swear— please listen to me i— i’m fine i-i just—”

how did she get infected? she didn’t even get bit.

“i-it’s impossible.” she thought aloud, “i didn’t—“

then she remembered,

the blood that splattered.

the injury on her leg.

fuck.

“jimin.” you whispered, the tears that you were holding back finally dripping down your face as you saw her. her veins slowly popping out as blood came out of her mouth, slightly drooping.

you saw her turn right in front of your eyes, and there was nothing you could do.

you just had to leave her there.

her eyes were bloodshot by this point, and she was fighting back only god knows what to not let her neck crack in front of you. she couldn’t see anything anymore, the only thing she thought to do at that moment, before anything was too late, was to reach into her skirt pocket, grabbing something small, you couldn’t tell what it was. you didn’t know what it was,

until she deployed it onto your palms.

“oh stop it.. not my fault nametags are so small, it’s a pain in the ass trying to find something so tiny, so i kinda just stopped looking for it.” she tried justifying, but you just kept laughing at her.

“who were you even planning to give it to, anyway?” you added, trying not to seem too hurt about her having a crush. you had to be supportive, because jimin wasn’t just the person you loved,

she was also your best friend.

“now you’re doing a little too much.. i’m so obviously not telling you that.”

“w-what are you..?”

yoo jimin.

“m-my nametag. it’s yours n-now.” she said, eyes twitching from the pain she felt, her bones cracking with each movement she made.

what?

her nametag?

what?

“i’m s-sorry i couldn’t— t-tell you sooner.” she stuttered, clutching onto her bloodied up shirt like it was gonna help her feel better. “i p-pussied out.” she giggled, still sobbing.

“sorry.” was the last word she could muster up.

you stared at her.

and she stared at you back, smiling before leaving the room and sliding the door shut behind her.

it all went by so quick.

you didn’t even get to say goodbye.

wasn’t this all just a bad dream?

you were gonna wake up right?

the zombies running, they weren’t running.

the screams in the hallways, they weren’t hers.

they weren’t even real to begin with, right?

the zombies weren’t eating her.

you stared at her bloody nametag, tears falling down onto it.

yoo jimin.

the zombies don’t even exist either, do they?

you made all of it up, right?

right?

“ugh lame.. i’m your best friend, you should be telling me.. booo tomato tomato..”

she laughed, hitting your shoulder playfully before laying her eyes on you, smiling tenderly as she watched you pout.

“sorry.”

#kpop gg #female reader #aespa #aespa karina #karina aespa #aespa angst #all of us are dead #all of us are dead au #karina x female reader #karina aespa x female reader #yoo jimin #yoo jimin aespa #yoo jimin x female reader #i’m gonna cry #i felt so fidksodkkwdk #writing this

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flowerandblood · 2 months

Text

The Fall from the Heavens (24)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: kissing, angst, anxiety, a lot of half-truths ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

Author note: For the purposes of this story, Lord Rodrik Arryn had a son and an heir, who in turn has a son of his own, to whom our Lady Strong was betrothed.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

After Alys' words and her warning, she ran out of the fortress feeling her heart pounding fast, a cold sweat on the back of her neck − it occurred to her that every servant she passed could be someone who would end her and her husband's lives.

Do not return here.

Look after yourself.

Trust no one.

As she left the walls of Harrenhal she noticed Larys Strong standing at a safe distance from her dragoness, propping himself up on his staff, a smile on his face that was sure meant to seem heartfelt and comforting.

"Your Grace. I wanted to say a proper farewell to you and your husband." He said in a calm, gentle voice, which, however, only made her more uncomfortable. She looked over her shoulder as she heard someone's footsteps and was relieved to see the figure of her husband walking towards her through the gates of the stronghold.

For a moment she felt wonderfully relieved to see him, but then she noticed the expression on his face, how pale he was, his gaze blank, his lips tightened, his gaze directed towards the Lord of Harrenhal.

"− Aemond − I must −" She muttered, grabbing his arm, wanting to speak to him before they flew away, wanting to pass on to him what she had heard from Alys.

"− not now − we are leaving immediately − my Lord −" He said in a cold, matter-of-fact tone that sent shivers through her.

She knew something had happened, something that frightened and angered him, but she didn't know for what reason − his silhouette did not even stop at her words, his eyes did not even bestow a single glance on her.

He was afraid.

Had Alys warned him too?

Was that why he wanted to leave Harrenhal as soon as possible?

Somehow comforted by this thought, she nodded in front of Larys Strong, heading immediately towards Larax, who was watching them vigilantly from afar, anxious and tense. She climbed up onto her saddle and, not wanting to stay there a moment longer, had her head high into the sky.

It wasn't until the wind blew her hair tied up in a braid and she sunk between the clouds that she felt relieved, the grim silhouette of the walls and fortress of Harrenhal fading away until it finally disappeared completely into the distance over her shoulder.

She swallowed hard as she caught sight of the mighty figure of Vhagar soaring upwards in the distance, higher and higher, approaching them like a giant, dark, flying mountain.

As she flew over them Larax was much calmer than the first time, having been used to her scent and presence after travelling for hours the day before.

Even though she was about to see her mother for the first time in months, even though she was flying towards hope she felt terrified, her throat squeezed in anxiety, for some reason a cold sweat ran down the back of her neck.

I saw in my dream a river of blood taking the shape of a dragon's head wearing a crown.

I saw red flooding everything around me.

She pressed her lips together, thinking of Helaena saying something similar to her then, after she wanted to take her own life.

From the mingled blood will emerge a dragon’s crown.

She wasn't sure what this words might have meant.

Who was this prophecy referring to? Was it about someone's birth, or perhaps someone's death? Her marriage to her uncle? Was something about to happen that would change everything?

It terrified her that so much depended on whether she could convince her mother that war might be avoided.

Their journey to the Eyrie was far shorter and more pleasant than the one from King's Landing to Harrenhal, the sun shining high above their heads. She, unlike her husband, who had to fly high over the peaks, could dash on Larax between the crevices of the mountains.

When she finally caught sight of her grandmother's ancestral stronghold in the distance she felt heat filling her chest, a premonition that what they were about to do would change everything.

She landed at the bottom of the valley among the fields, knowing that they both had a way to walk to the top anyway. Vhagar took a moment to take her place right next to Larax, her large paws hitting the ground, causing dust and ashes to rise all around them.

She moved towards her husband as soon as she saw him slip down the ropes from her back to the ground, ordering loudly for Vhagar to stay calmly in place.

"− uncle −"

"− we'll tell them you're expecting my child −" He said suddenly, looking at her at last, his gaze dark, grim, sharp, weary. She blinked quickly, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad, and shook her head in disbelief at what he was suggesting.

"− what? − Aemond, we can't lie, not now −" She muttered, moving behind him as soon as he began to walk ahead, towards the trail that led them up the hill to the fortress itself.

He avoided her gaze, for some reason he couldn't look her in the face.

Why?

"− they must agree to our terms − I will not discuss my decisions with you −" He said in a tone from which she felt rage and discomfort − she stepped in front of him and smacked his chest with her palms to stop him. He actually stood in a half-step, looking at her with furrowed brows, furious, his jaw clenched.

"− you will − you don't know them as well as you do − Daemon can sense the lie, he will see it in your eyes − do you think that once they understand that you are manipulating them they will agree to whatever conditions you set for them? −" She asked with anger and disbelief that he dared to suggest that they would lie to her family and destroy everything they had managed to build up to that point.

What was happening to him?

She saw that he swallowed hard at her words, as if something in what she had said had made him snap, his face even paler than when they had flown away from Harrenhal.

"− that fucking witch − what did she say to you? −" He muttered wearily, as if he could barely get anything out of himself. She swallowed loudly, not knowing what she should answer him.

What if her prediction frightened him even more?

What if it makes him change his mind at the last moment, make him say they were returning to King's Landing immediately?

She thought, horrified, that she could reveal to him only part of the truth.

"− that we should not return to Harrenhal − that I should watch out for myself and trust no one −" She mumbled, looking at him uncertainly; she saw that something had changed in his expression, his lips had pressed together in a thin line, his eyes had glazed over.

Wanting to soften her words and the tension that reigned between them she walked over to him and touched his upper arms, stroking them reassuringly with her palms, looking straight into his empty, dark eye.

That look frightened her, but she knew, she felt, that he needed her now − something in him was screaming that he was dying inside, but she didn't understand what was the cause of it.

"− husband, what happened? − if you have doubts, let's discuss everything − but please don't close yourself in the fortress of your mind −" She mumbled pleadingly, feeling for some reason tears under her eyelids, some strange conviction that he was distancing himself from her, when just at night his lips, his hands caressed her so wonderfully, so tenderly.

He looked at her as if hesitating, his lower lip trembling slightly, his nostrils twitching in uneven, accelerated breathing. His gaze softened as she took his face in her hands, his eyelids closed as her thumbs began to stroke his wind-cold cheeks.

"− uncle − look at me − I am your ally − I always have been −"

"You're your parents' child too. Just like me. What will you do when one of them demands the other's head?" He asked lowly and his eye opened; she saw something unsettling in his gaze, some glint that told her he was distrustful again, that he was hesitant again.

Why?

How could he doubt her after all this time?

"− I will never agree to this − despite what your grandfather and your mother did to me, I will not agree for them to be harmed if you assure me to do the same − you know that I am not driven by revenge − and you? − you are the one who constantly doubts me, however, ever since I appeared in King's Landing you have been the one to let me down − yet I remain faithful to you − I chose you, uncle, when will you understand it? − when will you understand that there is no other way for me but by your side even if I come to burn? −"

She asked in a trembling, breaking voice, angry and disappointed that although she had proved to him so many times the sincerity of her feelings, he still demanded more from her.

But what had he given her in return?

How had he proved that she could trust him?

Their nuptials had been an expression of his love and desire, but she had never heard from his lips what he himself had planned and whether he stood by the words of the letter he had written to her before he flew away to Storm's End.

She saw that his eyebrows arched in pain, his eyes turned red and glassy, his body tensed all over as if he was trying to fight what he felt because of her.

He looked at her as if some part of him was wishing he could see the shadow of a lie in her eyes, his face expressing the enormity of some kind of weariness and helplessness from which she felt her heart squeeze.

She drew in a loud breath as his large hand rose to the height of her face, as his fingers took the unruly strands of her hair from her face, his thumb running over her cheek down the side of her jaw.

"Can I kiss you?" She asked in a whisper, exactly as she had then, that day − she knew he felt something intense at her words, she could see it in the way he took in a breath, in his gaze that grew soft and hot, in his lips that parted in some subconscious reflex, betraying his desire.

Their lips clung to each other as soon as he leaned in, his hum of satisfaction echoing in her throat as she threw her hands around his neck, his arms embracing her waist. She pulled away from him with a quiet, soft click, combing her fingers through his soft, long hair, feeling her lower abdomen squeeze as the words he'd also said that day burst involuntarily from his lips.

"One more time."

This time her kiss was more greedy and wet, her lips pressed into his, parted invitingly, the tips of their tongues licking each other lazily making them both breathless. She felt something warm against her cheek and only after a moment, again and again sinking into the softness of his lips did she realise it was his tears.

He was crying.

"I love you." He whispered between one kiss and the next, stroking her hair and back with his wide, rough hands. "I've always loved you."

Something in the way he said it, in his trembling, broken voice, in the depth with which those words left her throat, and the fact that he had referred to her confession just after their first nuptials made her let herself weep quietly as well.

She didn't believe she would ever hear it from his lips and she had come to terms with it.

That was just the way he was.

So how scared must he have been, what was happening in the depths of his heart that such a confession had left his mouth?

"− I feel that some weight has crushed you, my beloved − it covers you like a heavy black cloak − but I am by your side − I am with you − trust me − I know how to speak with them, I know them −" She mumbled pleadingly, holding his face in her hands. She heard something between a moan and a sigh leave his throat, his forehead pressed against hers.

He gave in.

"− will you be by my side even when all is lost? − even if there is nothing left but darkness? −" He whispered in a helpless, low, trembling voice, and she felt his question and the way he said it deep in her heart, which clenched all over. Even so, she smiled, her fingertips running over his skin.

"− yes − don't go the path I could not follow − let me stay by your side − if I am to leave this world, I want to die in your arms −" She said softly, warmly, her words like a sigh. She felt his fingers tighten on the material of her leather coat, his hot, uneven breath framing her face.

"− so be it − fall with me −" He breathed out before his lips clung to hers in a deep, hot, sticky kiss filled with so many feelings that she felt her voice get stuck in her throat.

He had made a decision, whatever it might be, and her heart hoped that he had decided to trust her and follow her.

Wherever she would lead him.

They moved ahead, heading towards the fortress they could see in the distance − she noticed out of the corner of her eye that he threw her a surprised look when he felt her small hand slip into his, tightening on his fingers.

He pressed his lips together as he looked at her, squeezing her fingers in his before he let her go, not wanting any guard to see it.

They walked the path to the top of the mountain side by side in silence, escorted by the eyes of the guards standing over their heads. Only when they reached the fortress gate itself did one of them, presumably their commander, address them.

"Who comes here and with what matter?"

"Prince Aemond and his wife are coming to meet Prince Daemon and Princess Rheanyra." Her husband replied coldly; it did not escape her or the man standing on the walls above them that he had not called her Queen.

Only when she looked into the distance did she see the silhouettes of two dragons, blood red and gold, shimmering in the sunlight.

They had arrived.

Her mother and her stepfather were indeed ready to listen to them.

After a while, the gates of the stronghold opened before them, and they were led inside; she had only been in the Eyrie once before, in the company of her mother, and even then the place had made a great impression on her.

Unlike the Red Keep, the Eyrie was a stronghold built of mountain stones, making the fortress inside seem much cooler and more spacious, the windows in the walls much smaller, created for defensive purposes so that archers could not take them as their target.

The Eyrie was a defensive stronghold almost impossible to conquer even with dragons − its lords could defend themselves in it for months, hiding from the flames deep in the underground of the mountain with larders filled with supplies.

She was snapped out of her reverie by the figure of a man she recognised with difficulty, and at the sight of whom her husband stopped, furious, refusing to take any further step towards him.

The grandson of Lord Rodrik Arryn, the father of her grandmother, Aemma, Ronnel Arryn, heir of the Eyrie appeared before them in an ornate blue tunic reaching his knees, despite the smile on his lips, a coldness shone from his eyes.

She thought with pain that she barely remembered him as a child. He was weepy and angry whenever he lost when they played, so she and her brothers had to let him win once in a while to calm him down.

As then, he had light, curly hair, although as a child he had been slightly plump now he had grown, clearly choosing an attire that best emphasised his muscles.

Her would-be betrothed.

She saw the way her cousin looked at her uncle, the corner of his mouth lifting in a mocking smirk when he finally glanced at his black eye patch.

"My Prince. My dear cousin. My aunt and her husband are already waiting for you." He said in a soft, low tone, pointing with his hand in the direction they were supposed to go. She nodded, smiling warmly, feeling the enormity of the awkwardness of this meeting – she heard her husband move behind her, tense, not taking his eyes off him.

Ronnel led them to one of the chambers, which was apparently used for council. When he opened the door the first thing that caught her eye was a huge circular table, behind which stretched an entrance to the balcony, the entire room shaped like an ellipse.

An involuntary sigh left her lips when she saw her mother, Rhaenyra rose from her seat, looking at her and only her, her father's crown of pure gold on her head.

"My child." Mumbled her mother, her Queen, walking towards her, and she immediately ran to meet her, falling into her arms. She tightened her fingers on her back, feeling her familiar, wonderful scent, the smell of home and safety, of everything that was so close to her, and that she had lost and thought she would never regain again.

Her mother let go of her and took her hands in hers, uncovering her wrists, her thumbs began to stroke and trail over her scars, evidence of what she was trying to do.

"My only daughter." She muttered with regret and pain as she looked at the pale lines on her skin, clearly imagining what she must have felt when she undertook this desperate act.

"I'm well, mother. My Queen." She muttered and bowed to her, reminding herself of who she was, stiffly not bowing to Aegon or using the titles he believed were due to him as King.

However, he never punished her for this.

She remembered then with a rapidly pounding heart about her husband and turned over her shoulder – her uncle and father looked at each other from afar, standing on either side of the room, Daemon grinning in a way that was disturbing to say the least.

He was mocking him, wanting to provoke him, she knew that.

"I would like to express my gratitude to you for being willing to listen to us. I know the suffering and humiliation all this has caused you. I pray every night that the gods will welcome my prematurely deceased sister into the heavens." She said in a voice trembling with emotion, her mother swallowed hard, lifting her chin high, wanting to maintain her dignity and not lose her temper. She nodded, showing her that she accepted her condolences and the apology in her heart.

"Let's sit down." She said calmly and took her seat at the table first, she sat on the other side, however neither Daemon nor her uncle moved from their places.

They both had their daggers and swords at their belts, ready for whatever the conversation might bring.

Her mother grunted loudly, trying to remain solemn and calm, glancing at her half-brother then at her. She placed her hands in front of her on the table top, in an involuntary reflex playing with the ring on her middle finger that she had inherited from her mother.

"My husband has conveyed to me that my brother-usurper wants to pact over the succession of the throne he himself has unlawfully taken. I must admit that this is a quite ridiculous situation." She confessed in a trembling voice filled with grief, fatigue and the humiliation she had carried on her shoulders since that ill-fated supper.

She glanced over her shoulder at her uncle-husband, who was looking at her expectantly. She swallowed loudly at the thought of him not even uttering a word.

He was letting her speak.

He had decided to trust her.

She turned back to her mother and drew in a loud breath, gathering her courage.

"My uncle, Prince Aegon, had no choice. His mother is deeply convinced that her husband, my grandfather, and our King, revealed his final will to her before he died. She mentioned to my husband about the Prince who was promised, about Aegon's dream. I think she misunderstood him, mother, I…" She fell silent as she saw her Queen turn to Daemon, clearly shocked by something she had heard, her father looking at her with his lips clenched.

They knew something.

"Mother?" She muttered uncertainly. Rheanyra gave her a quick, uncertain look, her chest rising and falling in accelerated, heavy breathing.

"Aegon the Conqueror's Dream. A Song of Ice and Fire. This is the prophecy my father spoke to me about. Whatever Alicent heard, it did not apply to her firstborn son." She said with certainty and thrill, as if something had suddenly become obvious to her.

"You mean to say that our father only conveyed the contents of this prophecy to you, but you don't believe my mother that he could have passed on to her that he changed his mind regarding the succession?" She heard her husband's angry, frustrated voice behind her. She turned to him, looking at him pleadingly, but his black gaze was fixed on his sister.

Rhaenyra drew in a breath and twisted restlessly in her seat, Daemon standing at her side shifted from foot to foot, frowning an eyebrow at the sound of his tone.

"Calm down, nephew. You are speaking to the Queen."

"She is not my Queen." Her uncle hissed, looking at Daemon with a look as if completely overwhelmed by madness, her heart starting to pound like mad as her father's hand went to the hilt of his Dark Sister.

"That's enough. We have met here because Aegon realises, as you do Mother, that his and your children's rights to the throne will be challenged, and the war will not end with your death." She said quickly, her mother throwing her an anxious, chastising look, as if she were looking at a small child.

"Are you undermining Jace, my firstborn son's right to the throne?" She asked in an embittered, trembling voice. She swallowed hard, feeling she had to do it.

She had to force them to agree.

"He's a bastard, mother. Like me, Luke and Joffrey, he cannot inherit the throne. Will you cut off my tongue for those words? Will you deprive me of my head, father?" She asked drily, looking at her mother and then the father – their faces expressed shock and horror that she dared to say it out loud, her husband stirred behind her back, anxious.

"We just lie and lie and lie until in the end we ourselves don't know where the truth is, but it is there somewhere, always, and sooner or later none of us will be able to deny it even if we beheaded all the men in the Seven Kingdoms."

"How dare you say such a thing? Your father, Laenor Velaryon acknowledged you and your brothers as his heirs. He gave you his name, recognised you as his child in the eyes of the Kingdom." Her mother muttered with a voice full of disappointment, anger and regret from which her heart squeezed.

"But the whole Kingdom knows, mother. Even if Jace were to sit on the throne after your death, his lineage will not be forgotten. Are you prepared to die knowing that neither he nor his children will ever be safe? That, like my uncle's coronation, his coronation would also be challenged by lords across the Kingdom?"

She asked, tired and terrified at the turn this conversation had taken, the things that were leaving her lungs, but she realised at last that everything she had said was true.

"I know what humiliation you experienced, mother, and how much suffering you endured. Believe me that I did too. I, too, do not believe my grandfather would change his mind on his deathbed. I did not and do not recognise Aegon as King, nor have I ever called him that or given him the honour he deserves.

However, if we do not find an agreement, war will break out not only in the Realm, but in our family. This is what King Viserys wanted to prevent at the last supper before his death. Mother, after all, you are siblings. Your brother, though a traitor, extends his hand, he is ready to relinquish the crown he stole from you."

Rhaenyra looked at her with her lips clenched, pale, tears of pain, grief and despair in her eyes, for here was her own daughter trying to say to her that she should give up her inheritance, something she was entitled to by all rights, something she had been preparing for all her life.

She glanced over her shoulder at Daemon, who was looking at her impassively, frustrated – she knew that gaze and she knew he was furious, but he did not speak, making it clear to her that the final decision was hers alone.

This was her crown.

Her throne.

And he, as always, stood faithfully by her side.

Her mother swallowed hard, turning towards her, fiddling with the fingers of her hands, clearly nervous.

"I can consider the terms my husband has conveyed to me, but I also have my conditions. I will agree that it is your children who will inherit the Iron Throne, and you will be named as ruler-regents only if there are two kings, and you will be one of them.

You and your husband will share the power of the Kingdom equally and neither of you will sit on the throne or wear the crown. Aegon the Conqueror's crown and my father's crown will be kept in the treasury.

In addition, my husband and I will sit on the Small Council, and deprived of their seats will be your grandfather and Alicent. In addition, Otto Hightower will be stripped of all other functions and privileges and will reside under our oversight in King's Landing.

Jace will inherit Dragonstone as my first-born son. If no male heir is born to you, the official heirs will be the children from my and my uncle's marriage, pureblood Targaryens."

She looked at her mother in disbelief feeling her heart pounding like mad, a cold sweat running down her back.

I will agree that it is your children who will inherit the Iron Throne, and you will be named as ruler-regents only if there are two kings, and you will be one of them.

She wanted her to be not her husband's queen, but another independent ruler at his side.

In some subconscious, involuntary reflex, she turned over her shoulder to look at her husband's face – his healthy eye was open wide in shock, his figure all tense. She saw him swallow hard, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, and then he nodded uncertainly and slowly.

He agreed.

She looked again at her mother, who was looking at her brother with her lips tightened – a quiet sigh of relief left her lips when she saw her Queen also nod.

"Pass on my words to my brother. Let him know that this is not just about my pride, but about the welfare of the Kingdom and our family. That I respect my father's will and hope that he will do the same."

She said in a breaking voice, from which she felt a squeeze in her heart, a grief at the thought that her mother, her Queen, for her and her family's sake, had to give up what was rightfully hers, what she had dreamed of all her life.

In her eyes, it testified to her greatness, to her maturity, to her loyalty to the affairs of the Realm.

She would make a fine Queen, she thought with regret.

Her mother grunted loudly, trying to calm herself, and straightened up in her seat.

"You are surely exhausted. My cousin has prepared chambers for you where you can rest to set off on your return journey as we will tomorrow morning. Let us have supper together. I have been separated from my only daughter for too long." She said matter-of-factly, glancing at her brother.

She wanted to respond already, knowing full well that her uncle had no intention of remaining in this place for a moment longer, however, he was the first to speak, startling her.

"No." He said coolly. "We'll spend the night in Dragonstone."

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daisynik7 · 8 months

Note

hello it's me again not sure if it's alright to request one more (literally just ignore this if not) and its also not y2k but i'd like to request work song by hozier for nanami especially "no grave can hold my body down, i'd crawl home to her" angst with a happy ending during/post shibuya (no dying please) and reader is also a healer like shoko

thank you so much and congrats again 🫶🏼

Work Song

No grave can hold my body down, I’ll crawl home to her

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

cw: mentions of d*ath, bl*od, burn injuries, canon-divergent, set in the canon-universe during the Shibuya Incident Arc, MAJOR spoilers up to Shibuya Arc, angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, happy ending

Summary: You’re a healer working with Shoko inside the medical tent at Shibuya Station while Nanami, your boyfriend, is in the line of fire for the battle ahead. After an especially life-threatening attack, Nanami, on the brink, runs into an old friend, who helps guide him back home.

Author’s Note: @75songs thank you so much for sending in another request for the y2k karaoke party, always appreciate your love and support! I ADORE this song and have honestly always thought it was perfect for Nanami. I am an anime only and am not caught up with season 2 yet, so I didn’t want to read too much into what exactly happens during this arc, so some of the details may be inaccurate, just a heads up. This one got me in my feelings. I will forever hold a grudge against Gege for what they did to Nanami. Anyways, likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated! Thanks so much for reading! Divider by @/saradika.

October 31st. Maybe in another timeline, another reality, you and Nanami would be celebrating Halloween tonight, passing colorful candies and decadent chocolates to kids going door-to-door across the neighborhood. You’d force him to dress up in a silly costume, one that matches yours, despite his reluctance at first. Deep down, you know he likes this; domestic bliss, especially with you. The idea that the two of you could live a peaceful life together, away from the dangerous world of curses and Jujutsu sorcery. You discuss it constantly, dream about it, strive for it. A few more years, he says, and he’ll retire. There’s still more work to be done, people to be saved.

You’re inside the medical tent beside Shoko, helping her set up the cots, anticipating injured sorcerers to arrive soon with the battle underway. Masamichi Yaga, Jujutsu High’s principal, stands guard outside, determined to keep the medical team, especially Shoko, safe from any posing threats. There’s no way to know what’s happening until people start arriving, in need of medical attention. You’re a healer too, but not nearly as skilled as Shoko, your mentor. Still, she encourages you to join them tonight, needing all the help they can get.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asks, setting up the last bed. Observant as ever, she notices your quiet demeanor.

You nod, giving her a weak, unconvincing smile. “Yeah.”

“Nanami is going to be fine,” she assures you, sensing the root of your anxiety. “When this is all done, the two of you should take a vacation together.”

Relaxing a bit, you reply, “We already have our trip to Malaysia planned in a few months.”

She smiles kindly. “There you go. Something to look forward to.”

Her words ease some of the tension, but there’s dread settling in the pit of your stomach, and it won’t go away until you see Nanami again in one piece.

The waiting game finally ends as soon as the first wounded sorcerer shows up in the tent, initiating nonstop chaos. You assist Shoko diligently, making sure everything is prepared for her to perform her Reverse Cursed Technique for those who need it, and patching up those who don’t, with less severe injuries. You’re constantly on the lookout to see a familiar face, trying to get an update on what’s happening out there. None comes, until you see Kiyotaka Ijichi limping towards the entrance, blood spread across his shirt. You and Shoko rush towards him, carrying him over your shoulders, leading him to an empty cot, gently laying him down.

Shoko, showing panic on her face for the first time all night, inspects him carefully. “Ijichi, can you hear me?” She’s always had a soft spot for him, often telling you how endearing she finds him, always a nervous wreck in front of her. Seeing him like this is surely jarring, even for her, who’s as tough as nails.

He nods weakly, mumbling something incoherent, blood sputtering from his mouth. You remove the shattered glasses from his eyes, wiping his lips with gauze. Shoko starts to work on him, directing you to check on the other patients. Before you can follow orders, you feel his weak grip on your wrist. You turn to face him, focused on his lips as he quietly utters, “Nanami.”

Your ears perk up at the mention of your boyfriend’s name, leaning in closer to hear the rest of what he has to say, taking his time through labored breaths. “He…saved…me…”

You do your best to keep your composure, nodding at him silently, blinking away the tears welling in your eyes. Unsure how to respond, you leave them, going to the other side of the tent to check on the remaining sorcerers.

With everyone else in stable condition, you take a minute outside the tent to sob into your hands, praying that Nanami is still alive. Unaware of your surroundings, you’re startled when Yaga approaches, his large figure sitting beside you. “You alright?”

You wipe away your sniffles on your sleeve. “Just…nervous.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, sighing. “Yeah, I get it. But Nanami is one of our strongest sorcerers. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

Again, more words of comfort, but not enough to ease the nervous flutter in your belly. Yaga recognizes this and adds, “Nanami would fight through the fires of hell instead of letting himself die. Not because he wants to live for himself. But because he wants to live for you.”

You face him now, processing his statement. He chuckles, lifting his sunglasses to meet your gaze. “That man has never been so smitten in his life. He’d crawl out his grave just to be with you, I guarantee it.”

~~~

The last thing Nanami remembers is desperately wishing he was in Malaysia with you instead of at Shibuya Station right now. He wakes up, sitting in one of the seats on the platform. It’s eerily quiet with no one in sight. The distinct sounds of trains on the rails or the hustle and bustle of people moving along is strangely absent, and it occurs to Nanami that this may be a dream.

He's sure of it when he feels a nudge to his side, turning to face Yu Haibara sitting next to him. There’s a warm smile on his boyish face, dressed in his Jujutsu High uniform, exactly as he was many years ago when Nanami last saw him, alive and well. The same bright, earnest eyes he remembers vividly of his best friend. He swallows hard, an uneasy feeling surrounding him. Is he seeing a ghost? Or is this the afterlife?

Haibara laughs, and Nanami is snapped out of his reverie and taken immediately back to 2006, when he first met his friend during orientation. He can’t help but grin, happy to see him still so lively. “Well, aren’t you going to greet your old friend, Nanami?”

Nanami does, hugging him, astonished to feel him in his arms almost like a real person. Almost. “What are you doing here?”

“Just came to visit you, that’s all.”

Nanami lets him go, studying him carefully, looking for any signs of decay. When he spots none, he asks him, “Am I dead?”

Haibara shakes his head. “Not quite. But you’re pretty damn close.”

“I am?”

“Yeah. So you better hurry and get home quick.” Haibara points towards the railings, now illuminated at one end by a blinding flash of light. “Yuji’s waiting for you.”

“Itadori? How do you know – “

Haibara then says your name with a big smile. “Yeah, I know her too. They’re all waiting for you, Nanami. You don’t want to keep them waiting any longer, do you?”

It takes a while for Nanami to get up, and when he does, he’s off balance, legs wobbly, body unsteady. Haibara helps him, offering his shoulder, the two of them walking slowly towards the light. “I really like her, you know. Your girlfriend.”

“You do?” Nanami asks, hobbling beside him.

“Yeah. She’s really nice, really pretty, and she eats a lot, especially with you,” he chuckles. “You know how much I like that.”

“Yeah I do.”

“And I’m a good judge of character, so I think she’s perfect for you. If that means anything,” he says, proudly.

“It does. It means a lot.” They’re near the edge of the platform now and Nanami will have to hop down to reach the end of the tunnel.

“Are you going to marry her soon?” Haibara asks, pausing just before the edge.

Nanami nods, grinning. “I’m planning to propose during our vacation in Malaysia.”

“Good. Good.”

He’s tempted to stay longer, wanting a few more moments with his friend, but he knows that time is ticking. He hugs him again, squeezing him tight. “Take care, Haibara.”

“You too, Nanami. I’ll be looking out for you.”

His chest constricts, jumping off the platform, landing roughly on the railings, blinking away the tears in his eyes. It’s sweltering now, the light emitting an intense heat from within. He gives Haibara one last glance, cherishing the happy expression on his face as he waves goodbye to him before walking into the light.

Seconds later, Nanami wakes up with a gasp of breath, vision blurred, a droning pounding beating against his ear drums. It soon fades and only Yuji’s panicked voice yelling from behind him is heard. He’s being dragged by the armpits, away from the battle. Smoke radiates from his entire form, and he can barely move. In fact, he can barely feel anything at all.

They reach the medical tent, Itadori yelling for help the whole way. Yaga is the first to reach them, his usual calm demeanor wavering at the sight of Nanami, body half-burned from the explosion. They carrying him delicately inside, resting him on the only empty cot left. He wants to close his eyes; he’s so exhausted, and sleep is the only thing to bring him peace right now. That, or you.

As if his prayers were heard, you appear at his side, truly a vision, even while you sob for him, holding his mangled hand in yours, begging for him to stay with you. He can die happy now, seeing your face, knowing that you’re here, alive, heart beating, surviving. Can he do the same? Can he survive this? All he knows is that he’s trying with every fiber he has left in his being. He won’t leave you, not like this. Not without experiencing life on the outside with you.

It’s in this moment that he vows to endure. Even if he has to crawl out of his grave to do it, he’s determined to be with you again.

~~~

November 1st. Maybe in another timeline, another reality, Nanami is gone. Not in this one, though. Instead, you sit beside him, healed and in one piece thanks to Shoko, fingers laced with his, careful not to squeeze too tightly. Yuji and Ino are at his other side, talking animatedly about how amazing Nanami was the entire fight, and all he can do is lay there, smiling. Happy to be alive. Happy to be with you.

#nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk spoilers #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #jujutsu kaisen x reader #y2k karaoke event #milestone event

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hellcat8908 · 2 months

Text

Let Her Go Poly Bat Boys x Female Reader

Warnings: pure angst with no happiness, language, little bit of suggestiveness

You knew you had messed up, but you were beyond the point of caring. For months, you have put up with the whispers of your relationship with your 3 mates. You were fed up with being smiled at by various fae only to have them call you a whore the second they thought you couldn't hear them. You had tolerated it for the sake of your mates and for your court. Tonight was the breaking point for your patience as you heard the ear grating voice of Tamlin's mate.

You couldn't help but hear her opening commenting on your relationship. Her comments had you seeing red before she openly called you a whore. Before you could realize what you were doing you grabbed her by the hair and slammed her face into the table. "How dare you disrespect my relationships! You have no room to talk on things you know nothing about. Not that your opinion matters, you're just a hole for Tamlin's cock!" You manage to shout before Cassian pulls you away from her and starts flying you home.

Upon entering the house, Cassian informs you that Rhys is doing damage control, and then him and Azriel will be home. You roll your eyes as your anger simmers just beneath your skin. "Of course he is." You mutter under your breath. "Do you have something you wish to say?" Cassian asks. You don't miss the warning in his tone. "No." You answer before turning to change. After taking a step towards the bedroom, you decide enough is enough. You turn back to Cassian, "Actually, I do have something to say, but I'll wait for Rhysand and Azriel. That way, I don't have to repeat myself."

You storm off towards the bedroom and change into sleep pants and a shirt. Leaving your dress on the floor, not caring if it gets wrinkled. You rejoin Cassian in the living room. Neither of you is talking as you wait for the others. How much ass kissing does he have to do, you think to yourself as you grow impatient. You sit in the chair with your arms crossed, staring at the clock as you watch the minutes pass. Moments later, Rhys walks in, followed by Azriel.

Rhys pours himself a drink while Azriel joins Cassian on the couch. "Go to bed, we'll discuss this in the morning." Rhys says, not bothering to look at you. "No! We're going to discuss this now because this is long overdue." You say as you stand up. Rhys turns towards you, "Go. To. Bed." He says. You notice the tension in his body and how stormy his eyes are. "No. If you don't want to talk, then fine, but you'll listen." You say, growing more angry at his dismissal of you.

"I have had it with pretending not to hear the vile comments about the four of us being mates. I have tolerated it long enough, but not anymore. I know I'm not the only one who hears what they whisper when they think we can't hear them or when they think we're too busy with other conversations." You state, hoping for some sort of acknowledgment from one of your mates. "Do you even realize what your little outburst could've costed us?! We could've lost valuable allies tonight! Every mission and meeting that we've had with other courts could've been wasted because of a few whispers!" Rhys says as his grip tightens on his glass.

You stand in stunned silence at his words. You can't believe he'd invalidate your feelings, but he just did. In a moment, everything changes, and he seems none the wiser. Cassian and Azriel notice the change in your mood and share concerned looks. You take off your shirt and pants, leaving you in your bra and panties. You cross over to Rhys and kneel in front of him. "What are you doing?!" He asks. "Just taking my place as your whore, isn't this what you wanted?" You say in a calm tone, even though you're anything but.

"You're being ridiculous. This isn't the time for your games." Rhys says before watching you crawl to Cassian and Azriel, kneeling between them. "Well, if my High Lord is tired of me, maybe it's time the lord of bloodshed gets a reward or maybe the great spymaster. Whoever you feel deserves a little treat for doing such a good job lately." You practically purr. "Stop! You don't get to cheapen our relationship!" Rhys shouts. You quickly stand. "If only I were the one who cheapened it. You did that the moment you disregarded my feelings and confirmed it was okay for others to say whatever they want as long as it helps build alliances. I never once felt ashamed about our relationship until now, until you made me feel like a whore. I hope it was worth it." You say before picking up your clothes and walking out of the room.

You heard Rhys's glass break against the wall before you locked the door to the guest room. You could hear the three of them arguing, but it didn't matter now. The damage was already done. You couldn't even bring yourself to cry, let alone feel anything but numb. After a while, the house grew quiet, and you assumed they'd gone to bed. The fact that none of them had tried to comfort you or talk to you only added to the sting of tonight's events and realizations. You knew you wouldn't be able to sleep, so you tried to read. It became obvious you couldn't focus after reading the same page for the fifth time, unable to remember any of it.

Sitting at your desk, you pull out a pen and paper. You decide to write a note to your mates:

Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys;

If you're reading this then I have left. It wasn't an easy decision but a necessary one. These last few months have taken more of a toll on me than I had realized. Our relationship has turned from something beautiful and special into something ugly and spiteful.

Azriel, you taught me so much about myself and I am grateful for that. You're love is deeper than the seas and full of wonder. I'm glad I was one of the few who got to swim in its depths.

Cassian, you made me stronger both physically and mentally. You love with a passion that rivals any other. I am grateful you saw the potential in me and helped me become a better version of myself

Rhys, you believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. You allowed me to make mistakes and never judged me or criticized me for it, until now.

I love you all but in your own ways you've destroyed what we had built and I sat idly by and allowed it to happen. Take care of each other like you always have.

You let out a frustrated sigh as you grab a blanket and step out onto the balcony. You curl on one of the loungers before covering up with the blanket. "Can't sleep?" Azriel asks from the shadows, causing you to jump. "What do you want?" You question after composing yourself. "To check on you." He says, stepping out of the shadows and leaning against the railing. "You've checked on me, now leave." You say annoyed. "I wanted to apologize for not defending you against the rumors and gossip." He says softly. "Apology not accepted." You respond coldly.

"I know I've let you down and hurt you and have no right to ask anything from you, but please don't leave us. I'm asking you to give us a chance to fix this." He says, his eyes pleading with you. "You're right. You have no right to ask anything of me. You've had countless times to step up and fix this, but instead, you let it reach this point. You've all let this fester into something so deeply wrong in my mind that I'm not sure it will ever heal. Rhys's words tonight spoke louder than any actions you could hope to have repaired this. He very well might have placed the final nail in the coffin." You say solomnly.

"Don't say that, love. There has to be a way for us to fix this or at least me to fix this." Azriel pleads, though his words don't reach your heart. "Good night, Azriel," is all you say before retreating inside. Azriel stands on your balcony, his heart breaking as he feels you shield the bond. Once inside, you sit back down in bed. Burying your face in your hands as you relive the last 8 hours. With determination, you place the note on your nightstand and pull out your suitcase, and start packing the basics. Numbly grabbing your simple clothes, leaving the various dresses they had bought you along with your training leathers. A series of heavy knocks interrupts you. "Go away." You call through the door.

"Please, let me in." Cassian says, his voice strained with emotions. "I want to be alone." You say. "You don't mean that." He says as he tries the door handle. "I do." You answer as you close your suitcase. Surprisingly, there's no reply from Cassian. Moments later, you learn why. He walks in from your balcony. "Seriously?!" You ask with annoyance. "You left me no choice," he says. "You could've respected my wishes." You reply. His eyes land on your suitcase, "No, you're not leaving!" He says, his voice full of panic. "Cassian," you start to say, but he cuts you off. "You're not leaving! I need to fix this with you!" He says as he opens your suitcase and starts unpacking.

You repack whatever he takes out, creating an endless cycle. "Please," he says as tears line his eyes. "I need you. I need to come home to you after long missions, I need you to keep me grounded and remind me I'm more than my job. I need you to be here and let me love you." He says as his emotions spiral. "Cassian, I need you to let me go." You say softly, watching his heart break in front of you. "No! I can't lose you, I will do whatever you ask, just stay, please." He says as he drops to his knees in front of you and holds your waist. "Cassian, let her go." This time, it's Rhys saying it from the balcony archway.

"No! We need to fix this!" Cassian says. "If she wants to go, then let her go." Rhys orders. You grab your suitcase as Cassian reluctantly releases his hold on you. They watch in silence as you unlock your bedroon door and walk out. You only hesitate for a split second at the front door. You take one last look as the fond memories with your mates replay. You step outside and pull the door shut on your past before taking the first step towards your new life.

#poly batboys #batboys x reader #acotar fanfic #acotar angst #acotar #azriel #cassian #rhys #rhys acotar #cassian acotar #azriel acotar

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sohnric · 8 days

Text

partners in crime – j. changmin

after a series of unpredictable events, you and ji changmin, the foster kid with a shady reputation, become partners in crime. in a world where every choice has a consequence, you two must decide how far you're willing to go as you balance on the edge of danger with the promise of a better life.

pairing: ji changmin x fem! reader

genre: criminals au. coming of age, slice of life. angst, hurt/comfort. thief! changmin. partners in crime au (duh). slight high school au. inspired by a real case of robbery in a jewelry store here lmao. also loosely inspired by the kdrama extracurricular!

wc: 33k (33.689)

warnings: mentions of alcoholism and juvenile behavior, swearing, changmin's character is a little inconsistent at first. changmin is a foster child, dysfunctional families, financial issues, yn's father is absent. mentions of minors going on dates with older men, a man trying to take advantage of the reader, a physical fight (with the use of a knife), fake gun, robbery and that should be it...?

playlist || teaser || ao3

a/n: i had worked on this fic since december and only finished it at the beginning of may i am so glad it's finally out TT thank you SO much to my best friend @csenke for beta reading this, your comments were what made me feel more secure about this fic to actually post it. i know it's a lot of work and i appreciate you<3 i always wanted to write a fic like this and it's finally here, i hope yall like it hihi taglist: @songchan @luumiinaa

One of the police officers drags you up from the chair by your shoulder, urging you to move outside of the room. The one that’s been sitting opposite of you smiles sadly at you– something akin to sympathy, but not enough to really get through and hit your core– while the other one opens the door and shoves you down to sit at the plastic chair outside of the office. His movements are more stern and strong, tone of voice more stingy when he talks to you– it’s not hard to differentiate which one of them has kids at home, which one knows the tired eyes of a teenager more.

“Wait here until your mother picks you up,” the officer says, a stone cold look making you shiver.

“She doesn’t know that I’m here. You called her and she didn’t pick up, so–”

“I don’t care, young lady. Either your mother comes to pick you up, or you stay here forever, for all I care,” he mutters, sending you another one of his sharp looks before he turns around and disappears back into the room you came from, shutting the door behind him with a loud thud.

Figure jumping at the sudden noise, you settle deeper into the uncomfortable chair. Christmas will come earlier than your mother, and that’s a lot to say, since it’s March– and it seems that nobody really cares if you stay here forever. It’s not surprising, actually. Not at all. You don’t know what you were thinking anyway, but hey– desperate times call for desperate measures, and you had no other way of going around the situation. You don’t regret trying. You just regret getting caught.

Head resting against the hard wall, intending to rest your eyes closed and maybe take a nap before a miracle happens and your mother somehow starts caring and appears on the doorstep of the police, your orbs are met with another pair sitting opposite of you, silently watching the previous exchange. The intensity of his gaze almost makes you jump in surprise again, only relaxing when you recognise the owner of the dark chocolate irises and visibly shudder, embarrassment creeping up your neck.

It’s not every day you meet a guy from your school at a police station. Well, it’s not every day you end up at the police station, but being caught by someone who is aware of your existence makes this whole encounter even more uncomfortable.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Ji Changmin chirps, something akin to an amused smirk appearing on his face. His composure is light. He seems to be comfortable with the situation– well, as much as you can read from his blood-smeared face– and you start to wonder how and why your silent classmate from English class would end up at the police station, with a cut on his lip, a bruise on his upper jaw and scraped knuckles on full display, as he rests his intertwined hands in his lap.

“Could say the same about you,” you shrug, biting back at him.

“Oh please,” he snickers, shaking his head in disbelief, “I’m a regular here.”

The sentence catches you off guard. It’s not every day you meet a guy from school at a police station, but considering his words, it seems like you would meet him here every day, only if you were dragged here by rough hands of a police officer as often as he has.

“Oh,” you gasp, not really knowing how to react to such a confession, “good… to know…?” you mumble, nodding to prove your point.

You expect the conversation to die down– you don’t really know what to talk about with someone you barely know at the most unusual place you could imagine for a conversation. Ji Changmin is one of the classmates you’ve never talked to before, but would say hi to when passing them by on the street. He seems polite and easy-going enough to not feel uncomfortable with when left alone in a closed space together, but aloof enough to not have many friends himself. You barely know anything about him– apart from his marks in the one class you share, since you are often chosen to be the one to hand out graded tests at the beginning of English– and you don’t expect things to change just because you met him in unfortunate circumstances.

At least you know this won’t get out in any way. Not like you have any reputation to withhold in the first place– you’d just hate to have the reputation of someone being chased around by the police. Trying hard to find the light in the things, you thank all higher forces that out of everyone, the one classmate that could witness all of this is the guy with seemingly no friends to tell.

Changmin seems to have different plans, though. For someone that isn’t interested in making bonds with people, he seems to be interested in casual talk with you.

Well, if you could call this casual.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “they always let the kid from the foster house get away with it. They blame it on the trauma, or something, make me sign some papers and then someone comes to pick me up and the cycle repeats itself over and over again.”

The information catches you off guard. Truth be told, you didn’t know that about Changmin– you doubt anyone from school really knows, except for the teachers, and the sudden confession makes you hesitant. You don’t really know why he’s telling you this. If you were in his position, you’re sure you wouldn’t. It seems like everyone has a different measure for what’s appropriate to tell someone you barely know, though, and Changmin seems to enjoy the weird intimacy of the quiet police station enough to dump this information on you.

“Oh…” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Not wanting him to think you’re distressed with the information, disturbed, even, you try hard to think of a conversation topic to discuss with him. “What… what did you do this time, then?” you ask, mentally slapping yourself for being so awkward.

“Tried to pickpocket someone on the street,” he says, chuckling to himself. His eyes move to his bruised hands, shrugging. “Seems like I picked a bad victim. See, he had this fancy watch, so I saw him as a jackpot, but then he swung at me and… here I go,” he says, laughing as if it was a funny story.

He must be a regular here. He is too comfortable with being arrested to not be.

“That’s… unfortunate,” you hum, watching as the boy in front of you shrugs, eyes curious as they land on yours.

“It is… I could buy so much with that money,” he sighs, shaking his head, “what about you, though? How did you end up here?”

“Oh, uhm…” you gasp, scratching the back of your neck, suddenly a little shameful to admit it once you’re asked, “I… I tried to steal something and I was caught by the store owner, so he called the police on me…” you tightly smile, hoping to seem nonchalant.

“Shoplifting?” Changmin chuckles. “What did you want to steal? Designer clothes, or something?” he snickers, obviously mocking you. And it’s valid– you are a teenage girl, after all. You seem to have everything you need in your life, but that’s only because you don’t let anyone even suspect that there is something wrong. To an outsider's eye, they might think there is nothing more you could need to be happy if not designer clothes or jewelry. It’s what most teenage girls get caught stealing– you guess he’s not wrong for making such a guess.

Still, you feel a bit hurt at seeming so vain. Locking eyes with the boy, you shrug. If he’s going to share every small detail of his life with you in the comfort of the walls of the police station, you guess you can unveil at least something to him, desperate to make him feel ashamed for assuming.

“No, actually,” you say, the tone of voice suddenly calm and collected, “I was stealing groceries.”

And it finally seems to down on him– because if you try to steal something, it means you’re lacking it, right? Why would you steal something you can easily buy?

That’s right– you wouldn’t.

Changmin’s eyes soften with the realization, his mouth opening to say something– anything– before he’s cut off by the door to one of the offices opening, the kinder one of the policemen approaching you with a solemn look in his eye, leaning towards you to talk quietly into your ear.

“You can go home now, okay? We’ll let you off with a warning this time,” he says, smiling at you.

“But my mother–”

“Just go.”

You guess the object you’re stealing makes a difference in the way you’re treated at the police station. Also, you guess it’s good that people still have sympathy.

Usually, you hate the sad looks from people that are aware. This time, you leave the police station comforted, happy to know that you still have a future without a criminal record.

You’ll have to be more careful next time.

Eyes catching the glimmer of the silver chain in between your fingers, you press your skin into the metal and drag your nail over the stones in the pedant. You watch over the glass vitrines situated all around the store, various different shades of gold and silver staring back at you, almost laughing to your face with the prize tags slapped onto them, showing prices worth more than your groceries for the month.

Contemplating your next decision, looking behind your shoulder to catch the security camera watching you, you think over your next steps. Angling your body so that it’s shielding what you’re doing with your hands, you gently take out the drawer that you’ve taken the silver chain out of, pretending to put the jewelry back where you got it from.

Your movements are careful, calculated. You’ve rethought this plan over and over again, birthed in your mind the moment you saw the sign ‘hiring’ on the glass door of the fancy jewelry store in the town center– made adjustments to it, tweaked it around and tried your hardest to make a good impression on your boss so she wouldn’t suspect anything– but now that you’re actually in front of the important part, the one that’s supposed to help you the most in your hunt for money, you can’t really bring yourself to do it.

Who knows. Maybe you could just keep the job– you don’t make much, though, considering you only work part-time. With the way your shifts are scheduled and the amount of time you have to put into working, you don’t really see the jewelry store as a good source of income– you are barely home and have time for anything.

And it’s not the kind of money you need. Not at all.

Sighing to yourself, you shake your head to clear it off all thoughts– it’s time to do it. You can be sneaky. You can be uncaught. You just have to put your head to it.

Fingers shaking, you move the chain towards the front pocket of your jeans, ready to hide it in there and then sell it in the pawn shop a few weeks later to not raise much suspicion– when the sound of the front door opening brings you out of your thoughts, making you jump in surprise. Eyes snapping to the customer entering the store, you get ready to sport the kindest, warmest smile you can– to seem innocent and not at all suspicious. However, the grin stops growing mid-way as you recognise the appearance of the customer, smile freezing and turning into a concerned frown.

This is not how you’d expect a customer of a fancy jewelry store to look.

The person is dressed in black, skinny jeans adorning their thighs, the hood of their jacket pulled over their head and a mask covering the bottom half of their face. Before you get a chance to dwell on it any further, they take out a gun– and they point it to your face.

There’s a moment in time where you feel like everything freezes. A moment in time where you just stare the gun into its eyes and wait for the person to shoot you, a moment in time where you can’t even think. Your brain clears, the only thought present at the tip of your tongue being– this is not how I imagined to go.

Your hands start shaking as you put them above your head, pupils dilating in terror. You guess this is something you should’ve expected when taking the job in an expensive jewelry store, but even though you’re aware a situation like this could exist in your timeline, you don’t really expect it. It’s like that with all bad things in life– you keep telling yourself that there’s no way something like that would happen to a person like you.

There’s no way your father would leave. There’s no way your mother’s world would crumble. There’s no way you’ll be left in charge of everything. There’s no way you’ll have to be the one to steal groceries because you can’t afford to buy food to put into your sister’s mouth.

There’s no way a man would pull out a gun on you in the middle of your shift.

And yet, it happened. Everything.

In a moment of absolute terror, though, it feels like the world starts spinning again and the force clutching your chest relaxes a little when you stare into the man’s eyes.

Strange, isn’t it?

There’s a sense of familiarity in his gaze. Something mirroring a weird kind of surprise, a weird kind of recognition. A million different thoughts flow through your brain, eyes scanning his figure– the skin of his hands as he grips the gun that you now recognise to be one of the kinds you use when you play airsoft, not a real one– the lean posture of his figure, but most importantly, the spark in his dark orbs that somehow invites you to do everything he tells you to. Not because he’d kill you if you don’t– but because somehow, you know this might be of gain for you.

Trying hard to play out your previous panic, riding off the erratic heartbeat in your chest, you walk over to the cash register and open the drawer. Eyes meeting with the intruder, you precisely take out the bills stacked in the register, throwing them on the counter in a careless, yet seemingly nervous manner.

“The jewelry,” he mumbles, pointing towards the vitrines with his chin, waiting for you to obey his words.

It doesn’t take you much to take out the drawers full of silver and gold, letting the man take whatever he pleases, his bag filled with expensive chains and rings, all while he keeps the gun on you to get the full effect.

You could be given an Oscar for how good your acting performance was in this very moment.

Your eyes lock in another meaningful gaze, one that suggests that all cards are on the table now and you share a secret you will never be able to shake off, before he disappears out of the store into the dark. Acting stunned for the camera, you only reach for the phone when you’re certain he’s far enough to not be caught, dialing 911 and telling the line all about the robbery.

Ji Changmin chose the bad jewelry store to rob.

Or maybe, he chose the best one he could.

You find him sitting on one of the tables with built-in benches at the corner of the school yard, alone and seemingly lost in thought. His eyes are dark, deep as the ocean, the black bangs falling into his eyes only helping more with pushing his mysterious appearance. The tie around his neck is a little loose, since Changmin was never the believer of wearing your school uniform properly, and when you approach him, he barely notices your presence.

Clearing your throat, you finally catch his attention. The male stares up at you, raising his eyebrows in question, as if to ask you what you want from him. And it’s valid– as you’ve never been the one to talk to him first, since he was the self-believed outcast in the school (and self-preserved too, since he never really made any attempts at connecting with others) – but you think that after your recent encounter, you reaching out to him is not something that shall surprise the boy. More so, he should’ve expected it.

“Changmin,” you hum, as if to tell him that he should be the one to talk to you first, the one to bring up the matter. If you really think about it, he should apologize. If not for making you lose your job (which was mostly your fault, because you didn’t make the attempt to call the police on the thief fast enough), then for the emotional damage and very obvious trauma his little play could’ve cost you, had you not recognised him and the fake gun aimed towards your forehead.

“Y/N,” he smiles, the tug of his lips almost looking ironical. He looks like the Cheshire cat, mischief almost reeking of him as he pats the place next to him on the table, legs resting on top of the bench crossed, showing his casualty. “Fancy seeing you here,” he says, and with that, you know he sees right through you.

He knows damn well why you came. Hell, it would be weird if he didn’t. He also knew that you’d come crawling to him first, almost taking advantage of the fact that he has the upper hand on you with knowing the information you confided him with at the police station. No person that steals groceries is a millionaire, after all. Only someone who desperately needs the money goes ahead and steals something so trivial.

Maybe it's a bit of an asshole move from Changmin, if you really think about it. You let him get away with it, and now, he’s pretending like you owe him one, not the other way around.

“What do I owe the pleasure to?” he asks, tone of voice laced with irony. He is almost a little too lighthearted for someone who robbed a jewelry store just three days prior, and it suddenly makes you wonder if he’s done this before. How often does a boy like him just run around town and steals things from big corporations? You’re all for the eat the rich agenda– it’s just a little weird to think about how skilled Ji Changmin looked in the act. How calm he was. As if he’s done stuff like this before. As if he was an expert.

Was this his hobby? A way to pass time?

“Cut it out, Changmin,” you grunt, tugging the edge of your skirt down as you sit on the table next to him, covering your thighs, “you know why I’m here.”

“I’m afraid I have no idea,” he hums, pursing his lips and acting out a perfectly staged face of surprise. If you could punch him in the face right now, you’d do it. You didn’t notice the boy to be so smug back at the police station– maybe it was your own distress shielding your judgment.

“Come on,” you roll your eyes, sighing. “I didn’t let you off just to have you laugh in my face about it. Where’s my cut?” you ask, feeling a little impatient at this point.

“Your cut?” he asks, chuckling. “I wasn’t aware you were the one doing the dirty job, you know. All you did was let me off because you were scared–”

“Of your airsoft gun? Mhm, you are so correct,” you cut him off, noticing his face spread into one of irritation. A crease appears in the middle of his eyebrows at your reaction, his jaw hardening when he sees the annoyance in your eyes. You don’t know what he was thinking– that you’re just gonna leave him off with all the money? He couldn’t be that stupid, could he?

“Look, it was me who did the work, so I don’t understand why you would think that you get a cut,” he shrugs, crossing his arms at his chest.

“You do understand that I can just walk up to the police station and tell them that it was you?” you say, suddenly turning stone cold and serious. You thought yours and Changmin's little secret could do you something good– now it seems that you were wrong. “They wouldn’t bat an eye before sending you to jail, I bet. They have hoards of evidence of your past criminal behavior, but I don’t think they could overlook this one–”

“Now, don’t get all threatening on me, sweetheart,” he grunts, kissing his teeth. “There’s no reason to get all defensive–”

“Oh really!” you exclaim, catching the male off guard as you stand up from your seat, suddenly too heated to be in his presence. “I do believe that I have all the right to get defensive, though! You know damn well I didn’t do this so you can run with the money and spend it on fuckall! Because guess what, Changmin– I did this to get something out of it. Not everyone gets to go around and do stupid shit for fun, so you best believe that when I basically became an accomplice to your crime, it wasn’t just for shits and giggles.”

The male opens his mouth to reply to you, but before he gets a chance to do so, you continue, running your hand through your hair. “And if you think that I steal groceries for fun, then you’re terribly wrong. So if you don’t let me take the part of money I rightfully deserve by basically dropping the hundred dollars worth of jewelry right into your grabby hands so I can survive for the next few days, you best believe I will do something about it.”

There’s a moment of silence between the two of you, the only thing heard around being the chirping of the birds and the sound of the wind hitting your eardrums. Your hair gets in your face from the strength of the breeze, the fabric of your school uniform’s skirt ruffling against your thighs. It’s like the world stopped, something behind Changmin’s eyes changing at seeing your obvious distress. You’re really starting to think this was all a game for the boy. Something to pass the time– something to occupy his bored mind with.

He doesn’t reply to you even after a few seconds, though, which makes you even more mad. The anger is tinted with disappointment and fury as you turn around and shuffle your feet through the school yard, accompanied by the sound of the school bell in the distance announcing your next period. You’re ready to leave the boy there, already thinking of all ways you could go around telling the authorities without ratting yourself out in the process too.

Suddenly, something comes into contact with your wrist, pulling you back. Your legs stumble a bit, but you manage to stand your ground and throw daggers with your eyes at Changmin still holding you in your place. “Let me go–”

“Look–”

“I have class, Changmin,” you grunt, attempting to take your hand out of his grasp, but failing. His hold is firm. Unpainful, but strong. It makes you annoyed.

“Will you listen to me for just a second? Gosh,” he rolls his eyes, dropping your hand as if it was poisoned, shaking his head at your antics. You stare at him with raised eyebrows, waiting for what he has to say after having the opportunity to speak before, but ignoring it altogether and leaving you with the cold shoulder. Did he change his mind in that split second you showed him your back? Did he realize you were serious with your threats?

“Of course I’m gonna give you the cut,” he grunts, scoffing. “What do you think I am? I was just keeping it for some leverage.”

The question sounds a bit ironical out of his mouth, since he spent the last couple of minutes trying to convince you that you have no part in his little robbery and that you have no right for the money he gained from it. The other half of his statement makes you intrigued, though. Not in a good way– just in a way that makes you wonder what the fuck he was talking about.

“Leverage?” you ask, squinting at him in question.

“Well,” he starts, staring at the sky for a split second, as if collecting his thoughts into coherent sentences. Scrambling for something in the back pocket of his pants, he takes out an envelope seemingly filled with cash he’s gained, offering it to you, but retracting his hand as soon as you start reaching for it. “Let’s say I have a bit of a plan for us two. A plan to make even more than this,” he says, pointing towards the envelope.

Squinting at the male, you scoff. As if you would ever agree to something so reckless. If this interaction with Ji Changmin taught you anything, it’s that the boy is not to be trusted. You can’t read him. You can’t tell when he’s joking or when he’s serious, you can’t tell if he’s going to save you or throw you under the bus the moment he has a chance to. And if his plan is anything similar to the ways he’s shown himself to you before, you’re fairly certain that you want nothing to do with his endeavors.

“Yeah, no, thank you,” you say, snatching the envelope from his hand and turning on your heel, ready to leave before he changes his mind again and takes what’s rightfully yours out of your grasp, like the thief he seemingly is.

“Think it over, Y/N. You said you need the money,” he calls after you, not making a move from his previous spot in the corner of the yard. His words sting you a bit, but you guess he’s not wrong– no matter how embarrassed or ashamed you feel of the situation. The outside of the school is completely empty now, everyone back to their classrooms waiting for the lectures to start, letting his words resonate in the stranded field. “I think we could make a very good team.”

Not looking back, you walk through the grass, taking a look at the amount in the envelope. You don’t know the exact ratio he split the money into, since you don’t really know how much he earned after selling everything at the pawn shop, but it’s more than you expected.

More than you would’ve made with your initial plan.

Still– you want nothing to do with Ji Changmin. This only happened once, and you’ll make sure it never happens again. Associating yourself with someone like him will do you more bad than good in the future, and that’s something you really can’t afford right now.

No matter how hard he tries to persuade you, you two will never be a part of the same plan.

Lunch breaks are almost always spent alone lately. Or at least that’s how it’s been in the last few months, the last few years. It’s not like you don’t have any friends or acquaintances to spend them with– you’re not that antisocial– it’s just a lot easier to mask the fact that you have no food to put into your mouth when nobody pays attention to whether you eat or not.

The last amount of money you could afford to spend was pressed into the palm of your younger sister when you walked her to school today. There was no way for you to buy something at the canteen, and the last groceries that were edible were eaten last night. There was no way you could satisfy your hunger during the lunch break today, and to spare being embarrassed by the fact that you are barely holding your life together (since you’re 17 and taking care of everything), you decide to spend the few minutes in between classes in the school yard, sitting in the grass at the far corner of the school property.

Your eyes are pressed into your notebook, scribbling away as you try to pass time and ignore the pain in your stomach, chewing on the inside of your cheek in a bad attempt at focusing onto something else. When the sketch of the tree to your right turns out badly the third time in a row, you sigh and scribble all over the little drawing, wanting to see no more of it, wanting it to disappear. The very moment the tip of your pen lifts off the paper, something falls into your lap, the sound of a plastic bag rustling in the wind making you jolt in surprise.

Taking the item into your hand, you notice the sandwich wrapped in a tissue paper staring back at you, as if you wished it to existence and it fell into your lap from the sky with the sheer impact of your thinking. After more consideration, though, you look around and find a raven haired boy looking down at you, an indifferent look adorning his face.

“Changmin,” you hum, acknowledging his presence.

“Y/N,” he nods, taking a seat next to you on the grass, completely uninvited. His invasion of your personal space makes you sigh, but his gesture makes you even more frustrated. Pointing towards the sandwich he threw into your lap, you ask.

“What is this?”

“A sandwich,” he shrugs, “I bought extra, we can share.”

A heartbeat passes of you and him having a staring contest, something inside of you turning bitter at the otherwise nice gesture. Is he making fun of you? Or does he pity you?

You hate both alternatives– you almost can’t decide which one you despise more.

“Look, Changmin,” you scoff, shaking your head in disbelief, “I don’t know what the fuck you’re trying to do right now, but I am not your charity case. Just because you know I’m too poor to buy my own lunch, it doesn’t mean you can humiliate me and do it for me,” you grunt, throwing the sandwich back into his grip. He catches it with no trouble, fast reflexes working on full time.

“I didn’t get it to humiliate you,” he says, rolling his eyes at your antics. It seems to be hard for you to accept actions of service from people– and Changmin somehow understands. He’s been through it with people around him his whole life. They show him any kind of kindness or pity for the fact that his parents decided he wasn’t good enough to keep and threw him into the adoption system, and Changmin feels himself crawling out of his skin. He doesn’t need pity. He hates the considerate looks.

But after years of living that way, he learned to use those instances for his advantage. There’s no excuse as useful to getting him out of trouble as “I’m sorry, I live in a foster home.”

“Yeah? Then why did you?”

Changmin sighs, closing his eyes and paying more thought to how he’s going to reply to you. Speaking with you feels like working with a wild animal– any bad step could shoo you away, or make you attack. He doesn’t want either of those options. Actually, he wants something completely else. “It’s a bribe, really,” he shrugs, watching you and waiting for your reaction.

“A bribe?” you scoff, your chuckle almost sounding amused. “I already told you I want nothing to do with your plan, so you can take your stupid sandwich and fuck off.”

“I’m persistent when I want to be,” he just replies, watching you with an unmoving expression.

Ignoring his antics– as if to test how persistent he really can be– you point your eyes back towards your notebook, scribbling random lines and shapes into the thin paper. There’s only so much silence he can bear before he realizes you won’t pay him a minute of your time, you think, but the more you scribble away and the more the birds around you chirp and the distant voices of kids enjoying their lunch break preserve, the less confident you are in your assumption. Ji Changmin is a strange individual.

“Look, we don’t have to lie to ourselves now, Y/L/N. You know shit about me that could get me to jail, and I know shit about you that you don’t just show to everyone. Involuntarily, but I know that stuff,” he starts, tone of voice almost careful, almost a little caring as he speaks. “You and I both know you need money. And me? Well… I could use some cash too,” he hums.

When he doesn’t get a reply, he continues with his little speech. “You need money and I have a plan on how I’m gonna get it for you. For us. But it will only work if us two do it together. It’s a foolproof plan, but I need you on-board,” he says, clasping his hands together. Glancing up from your paper, you watch him with examining eyes.

He repays you with eye contact, as if speaking to you through his orbs. There’s a hint of understatement in the air, an aura of a connection you don’t quite comprehend yet, but suddenly, the presence of him in your personal space feels less invading and more… alleviating. Like you’re not judged, like you’re not pitied.

Your stomach churns and Changmin chuckles, offering the sandwich back to you. There’s a moment in which you contemplate your next decision, knowing that if you take the food from him, it’s your own way of sealing the deal. You have no idea what his plan is, you’re completely unaware of what you’re getting yourself into– for all you know and predict, it’s not going to be the most legal thing under the sun– but the more you think about it, the more you come to the conclusion that with the way your life is going right now, maybe you don’t have that much to lose.

“So? What do you say?” he asks, eyes lighting up when he notices your lack of resistance. “Will you at least hear me out?”

The wind makes his raven bangs move, revealing his forehead. He looks like he has a thousand tricks up his sleeve, hundreds of ways to get his way, no matter what he wants. He looks as sly as a fox, messy exterior with his tie loose around his neck, dress shirt a little wrinkly around the collar. Ji Changmin looks like he’s bad news. Like he can never bring you any good.

You should stay away.

Still, you take the sandwich into your grasp, hand fishing for the food in the green plastic bag. Biting down into the seemingly homemade lunch, you avert your gaze into the sun.

“What is it, then?”

“So.. what do you do for work?” you ask, twirling a strand of hair around your finger as you sit facing the man you don’t even remember the name of, a plate of fancy food in front of you almost untouched even though you’ve been starving for multiple days now. Truth is, you don’t really know which fork and which size of spoon to use when having those meals, since you’ve never been to such an expensive-looking place before– and even though you think your current date doesn’t really mind, you don’t feel like adding public humiliation to the list of your worries.

“Oh, I do real estate, honey,” the man replies, smiling at you with something sly in his eyes. Everything about the male sitting currently in front of you irks you a bit. The very obvious power imbalance in between the two of you, the age difference, the different social class… The fact that he only sees you as a young girl to spoil and get to do something more for him– no matter the fact that you’re underage. Judging by the way he kept getting into your personal bubble the moment you arrived at the restaurant, you’d even say he was enjoying the fact.

You were told to act gullible and stupid. Men like him like that, apparently, and so, despite your best judgment and everything you know about life, you do just that. “And what is that?” you ask, eyes big and curious, putting on your most innocent face.

“Buying land and then turning them over, renting places, all kind of stuff,” he nods, “a lot of money gets around in this sphere, sweetie,” he adds another sugary nickname to the mix, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up all alert, disgust slowly creeping up your neck, but thankfully never reaching your mouth.

“So you’re a landlord?” you ask him, the last remains of your personality shining through as you bat your eyelashes at him, trying hard not to focus on the chest hair peeking out of his opened dress shirt. It’s quite difficult to do when the golden chain around his neck blinds you with every movement, the surface illuminating in the beams of the sunlight.

God. You should’ve chosen a more attractive male to trick, at least.

The male laughs in shock, not really anticipating such a title. Maybe he’s offended, but still, he doesn’t let it show as he looks you over– mainly your cleavage and the girly way you managed to style your hair today– before he sighs, as if disappointed, yet happy to show you that you were wrong. “Not really, no. I’m a real estate investor, actually.”

Gasping, showing that you now completely understand what he’s trying to explain to you– that he’s basically a landlord, but hates being called that because it isn’t such a fancy title– you take another sip of the champagne in your glass. You’ve never drank before, and quite frankly, you hate the taste of alcohol on your tongue, you despise it with everything in you. If it was your choice, you would’ve ordered orange juice, or something– it seems that the man in front of you would hate nothing more than if you sat in front of him without a tall glass in between your fingers, and so you satisfy his sly looks and leave a lipstick stain on the rim of the champagne flute.

The breeze plays with your hair, sun kissing your exposed shoulders as you bathe in its light. You wore your prettiest sundress today– the one that you only grew into this year after inheriting it from your older cousin– and while you did feel pretty when you looked at yourself in the mirror, you’re not really satisfied with what you’re currently doing. Nothing makes you hate yourself more than working for money like this. Nothing makes you loathe your reflection in the mirror more than hanging out with old rich guys for monetary gain– no matter how beautiful you feel with the dress you got from your cousin three Christmases ago and the sandals you’ve owned since 15 and had thankfully not yet grown out of.

There’s one advantage to sitting outside of the fancy restaurant, though– and that is the fact that your plan is going smoothly. The man’s bag is on the chair next to him, just like Changmin predicted, and although it took you some time convincing him to sit at the table on the edge of the veranda, you’ve done your part in entertaining the male, making sure he’s as distracted as he can be.

Eyes averting to the right, seeing your accomplice with the hood of his black hoodie over his head, a mask over the lower part of his face, you lock gazes in what seems to be some silent kind of communication. One wouldn’t notice him if he hadn’t tried hard enough, but Changmin’s been standing on the other side of the road for as long as you’ve been sitting in the restaurant, keeping an eye on you. He’s dressed all in black, looking all mysterious, but not eye-catching enough for anyone to be suspicious of his presence.

Raising your eyebrows at him only in the slightest manner, making sure your date doesn’t notice you nonverbally communicating with the teenager on the other side of the street, you get your reply from Changming almost immediately, a nod of his head sent your way to start your little plan.

Ready, yet a little stressed of executing it, you clear your throat and focus all your attention back on the male in front of you again. He’s currently talking to you about something you have yet to grasp, not really interested in the first place– but doubting you’d know what he’s talking about anyway. After hearing a part of his little speech, you conclude that he is mansplaining something to you, and although the fact would make you infuriated with any other male in your presence, you think this is a perfect opportunity to dibble more into your little school girl play. (As if it was a play in the first place.)

Nodding at him, showing that you’re listening, you put on your best doe eyes as you reach over the table and enclose your palm around his. You haven’t watched enough movies about this to know how to flirt with a man, but you think it comes to you naturally as you part your lips the slightest, biting on your lower lip in a sensual manner. It’s inappropriate, not at all something you should be doing at your age with a man at least twice your age, but you can’t help it– if you need the plan to run smoothly, you need all his attention on you and you only.

And it works. It does, you conclude as the man runs his thumbs over your hands and gently pats your leg with his under the table, feeding into your actions. His eyes are focused on your lips and you suddenly pray for Changmin to work quicker– fast enough for the man to not find an opportunity to kiss you, at least. Your brows furrow the tiniest bit, on purpose, of course– to look more dumb, to look more in love and enchanted with the male in front of you– when you notice a figure in black passing the two of you, their hand slipping easily into the opened contraction of the male’s bag.

Changmin works fast. It seems easy to him, you can see it in your peripheral– there’s no wonder that he’s done this countless times before. You wonder why he likes this kind of adrenaline. You wonder how he even taught himself– how he even came to the conclusion that he should try something like this in the first place. Either way, you must admit that it’s kind of admirable. Kind of cool.

You see Changmin taking out something from the man’s bag, and just as silently and unsuspiciously he came, he also disappears. You let the man play with your fingers for a bit more until you’re sure that your partner is a safe distance away from the restaurant on the other side of the street again, before you lock eyes with him, being let off with a victorious crinkle of his eyes.

“Will you excuse me?” you hum, tone of voice laced in sweetness, puckering your lips as you cut the male off, something about an annual turnover hanging in the air as you don’t let him finish. “I have to use the toilet,” you say, already breaking contact with him.

Unsuspecting, the male only nods at you, letting you off. You can almost feel his eyes watching every move of your ass as you walk back to the building. As your feet enter the interior of the fancy place, you don’t even aim for the bathroom– Changmin checked it before you arrived to the restaurant, chewing on his lower lip in distress as he announced to you that there’s no windows in the stalls– and so you take yourself straight to the other side of the room, taking the other exit out. “Look, it’s even easier, Changmin. I’ll just walk out the other way,” you reassured him, concluding the last step of your little plan.

Feet shuffling through the red velvety rug, you pay no attention to the waiters watching you as you walk through the big dining hall, escaping through the other door without looking back. Ji Changmin is standing on the other side of the street, taking off his initial place as soon as he saw you safely inside of the restaurant, waiting for you to rejoin him and celebrate the end of your successfully finished mission.

Running towards him, a smile breaks onto your face. Changmin stays in his place, not going as far as reaching you midway.

“Did you get it?” you ask, raising your brows at the male.

Wordlessly, the boy shows you a leather wallet, taking it from the right pocket of his zip-up. A gasp escapes your throat at the realization of just how easy this was– just how fast you gained a stack of cash you can use to survive another week. Sure, you still feel a bit weak in your knees, you still feel like your blood pressure is a bit high, but the thought of the green notes soon secured in your hand makes it all worth it.

“Let’s get out of here before he notices,” Changmin says, tugging down his face mask and reaching for your elbow, dragging you to the opposite direction, away from the restaurant.

Somewhere along the way, you start to run. There’s a sense of childlike wonder in you. A sense of excitement you shouldn’t feel from stealing money from someone unsuspecting. Sure, you could argue that the rich person in the restaurant doesn’t need the money like you do– he has enough of it to not even notice its absence– but it was still morally wrong.

It was still a crime. But hey– you’re only 17 with a seemingly big weight on your shoulders. So if getting the money you need in an illegal way takes some of the pressure off your back, you think you’re not so wrong for being excited about the success of your little plan.

Changmin catches up to you, his face mirroring a weird mix of annoyance and disbelief. He understands, though. The adrenaline of your first act of successful crime is a moment one doesn’t forget. “Wasn’t that hard now, was it?” he asks.

And when you lock your eyes with him again, a foolish laugh escapes your lips. Maybe he was right. Maybe this was the way to go around things.

Maybe it was good to accept his offer. Something about the inkling in his eyes tells you that he won’t betray you.

Standing in the middle of the aisle, your eyes soaring from the pack of gummy worms you wanted to buy for your little sister and the chocolate bar you’ve been wanting to eat the whole week, you roll the coins in the palm of your hand around, as if counting them over and over again is going to make more money magically appear in your possession. Ji Changmin (who for some reason decided that by being your partner in all things illegal, he has to be glued to your hip at all times when he has nothing interesting to do), standing next to you, sighs at your composure and clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth.

“Y/N, Y/N…” he hums in disapproval, almost sounding disgusted at the fact that the logical thing hasn’t appeared in your brain yet, “I see you need a bit of a lesson in shoplifting, yeah?” he whispers into your ear, his breath hitting the side of your face and making you jolt away from him.

“What?” you whisper-shout, punching him in the shoulder. “Don’t be ridiculous. What we do is already enough. I’ll just pick one,” you say, rolling your eyes at the fact that your new friend always somehow finds a way to make everything an illegal act. It really must be his hobby at this point, no?

“Whatever you say, sweetie,” he shrugs, but the more he watches you move your eyes from the gummy worms towards the chocolate bar, noticing the sparks behind your eyes every time you eye the rich cocoa treat wrapped in red plastic and the fondness behind your gaze when you eye the sour worms, the more he’s convinced that you’re going to go with his previous proposition. Once the temptation is there, it’s hard to resist it.

And he’s right. A mere second later, you eye him with pleading eyes– as if to silently say ‘okay, you win. Now teach me how to do this thing,’, and that has the boy chuckling at your antics.

“Okay, newbie,” he nods, patting your back. “First thing first, the number one rule of shoplifting is: always choose a gas station. Check! Why? Frankly, the people working here are underpaid university students that could care less about the company they work for, so as long as you’re not too obvious with it, nobody is going to run after you.”

Nodding, showing that you’re following, you wait for the actual tutorial. “Step two,” he says, voice loud enough only for you to hear in the empty store, “look casual. Walk around a bit. Pretend you’re contemplating your choice of treats– check. Wow, Y/L/N, it seems to me that you are a born natural!”

Rolling your eyes at his useless comment, you sigh. Changmin seems to get the hint that you want to know how to actually shoplift, and not how to prepare to do the thing, and so with his next tip, he is a bit more specific, which you welcome with open arms. “Okay, okay. So, now you wanna look for the cameras. Try to look for any blind spots,” he says, casually glancing around the store.

You follow his motions, trying hard to stay as unsuspicious as you can, and before you can say anything or try to find the blind spots he was talking about, the serpent-like boy tugs you by your forearm into another corridor. Your hands are now covered by the regals, only the tips of your scalps visible under the security camera, and before you know it, Changmin ushers another order into your ear.

“Now, take the more expensive thing and put it into your pocket,” he says. That has you pointing a sharp gaze to him, question marks accompanied by exclamation points striking into his skull, which has the boy utter out a quick explanation to your very confused state. “Trust me. Putting it into your bag is way more suspicious,” he hums, looking around the gas station and pointing his gaze towards the energy drink stand in front of you, acting as if he was contemplating on buying one for himself.

Hesitantly glancing behind your shoulder, finding the coast clear, you chew on the inside of your cheek before you swiftly put the pack of gummy worms into your pocket. Clearing your throat to signal to the boy that you’re done with the task at hand, he turns his head to you and raises his brows, smiling. “Are you ready to pay, finally?” he asks, his voice now a little louder. You think it’s to not cause any more suspicion, since the two of you have been murmuring amongst each other for the past few minutes.

Humming, feeling a buzzing in your fingertips, heart quickening– you’re really doing this– you nod and let your friend lead you to the counter. You’ve tried shoplifting before, of course, but the last time you did so, you were dragged by your hair to the police station, so you think you have all the right to feel the tiniest bit paranoid when trying for the second time. There is stress settling to your shoulders when you awkwardly shuffle to the counter and put the chocolate bar in front of the cashier, but when you notice the fact that Changmin was right and the clark was barely paying attention to the store at all– there was Candy crush turned on their phone behind the POS machine– the nerves seem to fall off a bit.

“Cash or card?” the girl behind the counter asks– she is chewing on a gum and her neon pink hair is falling into her eyes. She seems a few years older than you, but she seems to be still in college. There are dark circles under her eyes– she seems tired. Not letting yourself to shield your next actions with the usual waterfall of empathy, you clear your throat and try to speak up with the most casual voice.

“Cash,” you peep, taking the hurdle of coins back from your pocket– the one that doesn’t currently hold a pack of gummy worms– and quickly count the sum of money you need, putting it onto the counter.

“You need a receipt?” the cashier asks, completely uninterested in her job. You can tell she has this situation rehearsed– she must have been working here for a while.

“No, thank you,” you nod, taking the chocolate bar into your grasp and spinning on your heel, following Changmin on his way outside of the gas station. Before the door closes behind you, the boy heaves out a cheerful ‘Goodbye!’ which has you mirroring his actions, yet your walking still speeds up with the weight of wanting to be outside and done as soon as possible.

You never know. What if she noticed and a policeman will come and catch you at the last minute for stealing those gummy worms? You can’t afford getting a criminal record– this won’t land you any job in the future.

As soon as your figure moves outside of the building and you’re sure you’re not being followed by anyone and there’s no police cars parked in front of the gas station, you feel the weight of the situation finally leave your physical form, your breathing finally becoming more normal. Changmin glances at you over his shoulder, a grin spreading over his features, patting your shoulder like a proud father.

“See? Wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he asks, having you roll your eyes at him.

“I’m sorry, man,” you snicker, “I still have some PTSD from that one time…”

“It takes a few tries to perfect the art, I get it,” he says, nodding as if to admit your struggle. It’s hard to believe Changmin has ever failed at anything he tried before– in all situations you’ve encountered with him, he seemed completely capable and knowing. It’s as if he’s been doing this his whole life– and for all you know, he might as well have been.

“Well, not everyone takes joy in doing illegal activities like you clearly do,” you sigh, having the boy look at you with furrowed brows.

Unknowingly, you lead the boy towards your house. He doesn’t seem to mind walking with you, and although you did just commit a crime, you’re happy with the comfort of not having any committed against you– a girl in her school uniform walking home in the evening is an easy target for all men who’d love to take advantage of you and fulfill their dark fantasies. It’s funny to admit that you feel safer with Ji Changmin walking you home, but it’s also a natural cause of the fact that you two have been working together on fake dates with rich men for a few weeks now. (So far, you’ve gone on three. They all worked and went by the plan. You suddenly question why you didn’t say yes to this plan earlier.)

“Living in the foster home makes you fight other people over everything, Y/N-ie. Over food, old donated board games, treats, clothing, parents…” he chuckles at that, a bitter tone coating his words, “my point is… If you don’t take what you want forcefully, it will be taken out of your grasp one way or another. And if that piece of candy is stolen from you by an older kid at the foster home, you’re gonna have to find a way to get yourself one as well,” he explains.

You feel a little embarrassed for assuming. Changmin doesn’t reveal much about himself to you. Neither do you. For this reason, you’d describe your relationship with the raven-haired boy like something similar to being coworkers. You don’t tell each other about your personal lives, you don’t talk about your issues or intentions. All you know is that the both of you need money, so you’re willing to work together to get it.

The sudden confession hangs an uncomfortable air of vulnerability over the two of you. It’s strange– hearing him chuckle so bitterly about his situation, seeing the shift behind his eyes when he realizes what he just said. You don’t really know what to say back to him– do you console him? Do you try to play it off, ignore what he’s just said? Before you have any chance to take action, though, the boy clears his throat and does damage control on his own. (Which is probably for the best. You wouldn’t want to overstep any boundary– so you’ll act according to his.)

“But after a while, it became kind of fun, yeah,” he laughs, shrugging. “I like the adrenaline rush.”

“You’re a freak.”

“A freak with useful tactics,” he points a finger-gun at you and winks, making you roll your eyes at his misplaced pride, but laugh along with him nonetheless.

It’s good to make fun of your situation sometimes. Didn’t someone say humor is one of the most useful coping mechanisms? Or maybe a sign of unhealthy coping mechanisms? Well, one way or another– you have to cope with it some way anyways. A little joke never hurt anyone.

“Half of that is mine, by the way,” he points towards your favorite chocolate bar in your grasp. “I earned it by helping you get it,” he says, content face beaming at you in mischief.

His features are a little sharper under the yellow lampposts, his dark hair falling into his eyes making shadows appear under his eyes. He looks like a cunning fox– much like always– but you think you’re growing used to the charm. “What?” you huff, face scrunched up in frustration. “I bought this, actually, so–”

“So you’re telling me you would’ve chosen the chocolate bar, had I not opened your eyes to the wonders of shoplifting?”

“What does that even have to do with anything–”

“Exactly what I thought,” he nods, taking the chocolate bar out of your grasp and tearing it open, not even sparing you a chance to defend yourself, “if I wasn’t there, you’d buy the gummy worms, so the fact that you bought this is my work and I deserve a half of your treat, thank you very much.”

“How can you even be so sure–”

“Y/N?” a thin voice calls for you, making you stop the little petty argument you’ve been having with your crime partner and look around, noticing both facts of the reality at once– one: you’ve reached your street, and two: your little sister is watching you from the doorway of your house, big eyes worried and hair tousled.

She’s still wearing the clothes she wore when you sent her off to school in the morning, and by the way she keeps chewing on the inside of her cheek, you know that she hasn’t eaten. She always does that when she’s hungry and doesn’t want you to know. A pit opens up in your stomach at seeing your sibling in such a state, and although it’s not as uncommon as you’d like to say it is, you know you have to put up your big sister act.

“Aerin-ie? Has mum not come home yet?” you ask, watching as the little girl walks out of the house and through the pathway of your house, standing only a few meters away from you.

“No,” she shakes her head. You’re not surprised by the answer. Maybe, you’re not even disappointed anymore. You learned not to have any expectations when it comes to your mother.

Sighing, you nod, chewing on your lower lip. “Go inside, we’ll eat something together and then you’re going to sleep, you have school tomorrow, okay?” you hum, tone of voice compassionate and gentle, the way you always talk to your sister ever since the issues started. There is no room for quarrel between siblings when you’re too busy making sure your little sister is eating well and going to school. There’s no room for sibling fights when you’re more of a motherly figure now.

“Okay,” she nods, but doesn’t move from her spot in the middle of the yard.

“Well? Go–”

“Is that your boyfriend?” Aerin asks, pointing towards Changmin. You momentarily forgot that he was still here, so when you finally take in his silently standing figure, it almost makes you jump. Waving your hands around in panic, not wanting your young, gullible sister to get any ideas, you eagerly try to take her out of her lapse of judgment.

“God, no. No, no, that’s–”

“Hi! I’m Changmin!” the boy suddenly waves, smiling at your little sister. “I go to school with your sister.”

Aerin watches the boy with big eyes, as if scared. You understand her– Changmin doesn’t seem as the most approachable of people (although his smile does feel unusually warm and contagious right in this moment)– and she didn’t have much experience with male figures in her life to feel secure with any new men entering her life. Not that Changmin will be entering her life anyway– but you get the gist of it.

“You do?” she hesitantly asks.

“I do. Tell her to study more, because if she keeps it up this way, she’s going to have to go back to school with you and retake all the lessons for smaller kids,” Changmin hums, poking fun at you.

“Hey!” you thunder, kicking the boy into his shin in a weak attempt of defending yourself. “That’s not true!”

Hearing your sister laugh at your misery– an action you never thought would warm your heart up so much– you lock your eyes with Changmin only for a split second, and in that, you come to some sort of mutual understanding. You talk without words– you learned something about me today, I learned something about you today. Your secret is safe with me.

He doesn’t know the full truth of it all– quite as much as you don’t know about his life, but somehow, this evening brought you two a little closer. You moved from being coworkers to now being coworkers who know more backstory about each other’s lives, and you don’t really find yourself hating it.

“Y/N got something for you,” Changmin muses, pointing a finger to your pocket.

Somehow, he has it all figured out.

“Oh, right!” you gasp, taking the gummy worms out of your jacket and offering them to your little sister. Her eyes light up instantly, that kind of joy you only feel when you are 12 and presented with your favorite treat, and you get a solemn feeling on your insides comforting you– you’re doing all you can. She’s smiling. She’s still mostly unknowing.

“I heard they’re your favorite,” Changmin keeps talking to your sister. It’s a surprising sight– how welcoming he suddenly seems.

“They are! Y/N, can I have some?”

“After you eat dinner,” you nod, seeing the little girl furrowing her brows and opening her mouth to protest, a sense of blissful normality shielding you all from reality.

“But–”

“After dinner, Aerin. Now let’s go inside so you can sleep,” you hum, walking over to your sister, “you get fussy in the morning when you don’t get enough sleep.”

Something about your hand on her shoulder has the little creature moving closer towards your house, the two of you walking alongside each other through the pathway. Looking behind, you wave at Changmin. He offers you a gentle smile– one you haven’t seen on him before. It moves something within you.

He doesn’t know much, but somehow, he understands.

Before you close the door behind you, you mouth him a silent ‘Thank you’. The boy salutes you before he disappears into the dark.

“Do you want some lemonade or something?” you hum as you enter your house, tugging uncomfortably at the hem of your short skirt, throwing the knock-off purse Changmin got you from the donation bins at the foster home into the corner of the entrance hall. It’s midday, you are supposed to be at school and having your lunch break, but instead, you’re tiredly slugging home with your classmate tailing your back, done with yet another date.

“I’m good,” Changmin shrugs, “I’ll just have some water.”

“Amazing choice,” you nod, pointing towards the tap in your cluttered kitchen, “didn’t feel like making you a fucking lemonade anyway,” you sigh, watching as the boy helps himself to a glass of tap water and you get yourself a taste of the old coffee your mother must have made herself in the morning before leaving, furrowing your brows at the bitter taste.

After you’re done chasing down the thirst that’s accumulated in your throat, you walk upstairs into your room, followed around by the boy. There was a silent agreement between the two of you to let him stay over at least until the acceptable time to come back into foster home was– if he came before school ended, he’d get in trouble. (You wonder why he’s afraid of this and not the fact that he was dragged from the police station multiple times, but you choose to not question him anymore.)

It’s strange to have him in your house. It doesn’t make you uncomfortable, per se– you just wonder how much your living conditions say about you. It’s very clear that you don’t live with your father. He left shortly after your little sister was born and you haven’t seen him since– you wish you could say you don’t mind, because you never really had a good relationship with him anyway, but the truth is, maybe he was the whole reason for the downfall of your quality of life. The mess all around the house suggests that nobody has time or energy to clean it. You try your hardest to keep it relatively clean on most days, but it gets significantly harder when you also try to bring food home into the house.

If Changmin makes anything out of the state of your living, he doesn’t mention it.

Settling into the mattress of your bed, totally uninvited, he squints at your ceiling. You, on the other hand, turn towards your wardrobe and take out some comfy clothes– the preppy mini skirt you were dressed in before you left to meet up with another rich old guy was starting to get on your nerves. Turning your back to Changmin, you slip your blouse over your head and put on a big T-shirt, one of the clothes you got at the Dollar store when you grew out of your last pajamas, and after you dress yourself in comfortable sweatpants, you walk up to the boy with an outstretched hand.

A mutual understanding falls over you as he puts the leather wallet into your hand. Opening it, you flick through several credit cards, squinting at the owner’s ID– by the birth year on the card, you calculate that he was even older than he told you he was– before you count up the money and cut it in half, throwing the rest into Changmin’s lap.

The more often you do this, the more you wonder how it keeps working. It’s surprising to see just how many wealthy men are carrying cash around and being reckless with their belongings. Changmin almost never has any trouble with stealing their wallets– either when they’re not looking, or when the man foolishly leaves to the bathroom and leaves his bag behind on the chair. It’s like they’re inviting you to do it, at this point.

The more often you do this, the more you start hating yourself, though. There’s only so much objectifying you willingly submit yourself to before it makes you want to crawl out of your skin. If there was a better way to do things, you would.

Sighing, you open your sock drawer and sit cross-legged on the floor. Taking out the sock balls and unraveling the items of clothing onto your thigh, putting bills into them and rolling them back into neat balls, throwing them back into their designated place very un-Marie Condo style, you hear Changmin ask a question after minutes of watching you in silence.

“What do you need all this money for, by the way?” he asks. “Except for keeping your sister alive, of course.”

The question has you halting your movements, looking up at the male with a blank look. You two never discuss deep things– you two never talk about your lives and the reasoning behind your actions. You just do things and don’t think of consequences– you just get as much money as you can without telling the other one what you need it for.

Locking your eyes with him, you shrug. There’s a hint of understatement behind his orbs that shows you that maybe you can trust him. Maybe him knowing isn’t that bad– what could he possibly do with the information? You two know about each other’s crimes far too much to betray each other, you think.

“I… my family… we have debts,” you say, nodding to yourself. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you chuckle before speaking up again. “My dad left shortly after my sister was born and then we couldn’t really afford paying for the house anymore. My mum refused to move, though, so she got another loan to cover the previous one, but it’s…” you drift off, remembering the day you found out the harsh truth only a few months ago.

You hear your mother’s sobs as you walk into the house after your classes, making your heart drop to your stomach. It’s not every day you hear your mother cry, since she tries hard to pretend everything is okay even though it’s not– and the empty bottles of alcohol waiting by the trash can every day are the clear sign of both that and her not really handling it well. This feels different, though. The crying doesn’t sound like someone pitying themselves once again– the crying sounds like someone in such a deep despair, hopeless and lost.

Socked feet shuffling through the house as you take your shoes off at the door, you find your mother crouching above the kitchen table, a glass in her hand. There’s a sheet of paper staring back at her from the void, the scene almost appearing in front of you in grayscale. You didn’t expect your life to change so much in such a simple afternoon. You didn’t expect to grow up with a click of a finger.

“What happened?” you ask, carefully approaching the wounded animal of your mother. You learned quickly after she picked up drinking that you need to handle the fragile woman with care. A bad word and she could break– an incorrectly crafted sentence and she could turn into a volcano, erupting with screams and swearing, cursing you out.

No answer reaches your ears, though, so your only resolve is to take the paper into your hands and read it over. And now, you’re no expert in legal things and contracts, but it doesn’t take a lot of knowledge to recognise a loan contract. It’s a company you don’t know, though– one of the not famous ones, one of the fishy ones that give you the money quickly– and before you even get a chance to read over the fine print at the bottom of the page, you already know you’re in deep, deep trouble.

The knowledge of trouble only intensifies when you come home to strange men escaping your house one day. There are no groceries in the fridge for a few days after, making it vastly clear to you that your mother simply couldn’t afford to get food for her kids to eat.

It only takes one crying fit and an argument with your mother to find out the harsh reality– your mother fell for a loan that is too difficult to handle, one that makes you pay back fast and with big amounts monthly. She already had a warning.

If she is late with her payment again, you lose everything.

“It’s… it’s difficult to pay it back,” you conclude, watching as Changmin only nods in understatement. The air around you is suddenly too heavy, but you figure the whole truth won’t hurt anyone. Maybe the weight on your shoulders would feel lighter if you finally tell someone– however selfish the sentiment feels. “If we don’t pay it back within the next few months, we will lose our house. My mother fell for a loan shark,” you say.

“All the years of her telling us to not fall for scams, and then she does this,” you mumble, trying to make fun of the situation.

“Y/N, that’s–”

“I was also thinking of leaving one day,” you add as you cut him off, not letting him psychoanalyze you or make you feel like he pities you. “I was thinking of getting enough money to settle all of this and then just… move out. Disappear. I need to get away from this house before it suffocates me,” you bitterly laugh, seeing the boy shift his eyes from the ceiling back at you, pressing his lips into a tight line.

“I get you,” leaves his mouth after a heartbeat of silence. Never in your life have you feared being judged as much as in this moment. It’s strange to face your biggest fear– being vulnerable with someone, opening up to them about everything you’re going through– and find that it wasn’t at all as difficult. It’s strange to face your biggest fear and realize that maybe, you had nothing to be scared of in the first place.

It’s strange to hear that you’re understood. That somebody gets just how hard it is to breathe every day, walking through the house you grew up in, but which is now haunted. If it was anybody else, you’d try to argue with them. How could they understand? How could they possibly know what is going on inside of your head on a daily basis? How could they get the extent of how far you have to go every day just to survive and keep your sister out of the mess, totally unknowing?

Ji Changmin may not know everything about you, he may not be in the same situation, but still; he knows how you feel. Coming from a background like that, you don’t get to keep a lot of freedom either.

“It’s… it’s a work in progress. I don’t really have a plan either, I just… I just know I need to save up enough to sort things out, move out and leave everything behind. I can’t… I can’t keep doing this forever, y’know,” you shrug, snickering to yourself.

Changmin hums in understatement, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He looks so out of place in the middle of your white sheets, dressed in his all black attire. The contrast of his clothes and the brightness of your laundry cuts through all major parts of your life as well– where there’s anxiety, there’s also Changmin’s ability to turn everything into a joke. Where there’s mess and confusion, there’s Changmin’s calculated plans and thought-out strategies. Where there’s loneliness, there’s also Ji Changmin’s sheer presence next to you during the lunch break. It’s strange, just how quickly you found comfort in the serpent-like boy. It’s unfamiliar. The novelty of it all both scares you and comforts you all at once.

The boy is silent for a while before he speaks up, processing the information. As if knowing that there’s nothing he could really say to make you feel better about the situation– or fearing that anything he could utter out would make it worse– he entrusts you with a secret of his own.

“If I don’t get adopted before I turn 18– which, let’s be real, with my history and everything, won’t happen– I age out of the system and I’m all on my own,” he says, shrugging, “I’ll need money to get on my own feet. To leave, too. Fuck, I need to leave that house and this town. I need to start over somewhere where they won’t know every single thing that happened to me in the past.”

You hadn’t realized just how much your plans align when you first nodded to this agreement. You think it adds a sense of reliability now. Both working towards the same plan, knowing that if you fail, the other’s fate is at stake as well.

Before this, you didn’t know just how serious it was for Changmin– you didn’t know if he needed the money on reckless spending, on buying drinks and cigarettes to chase down his boredom, or if there was a greater sense of ironical responsibility behind it all. Knowing that there’s so much on the table, so much of both of your future’s that are at risk if you don’t try your hardest to make your lives better– because no one else in the whole world will help you, it seems– brings a greater sense of alliance hang in the air between the two of you.

Shared secrets, plans, view of life. Shared responsibilities, burdens, desperation. That bonds two people like nothing else does.

“You can count on me, Y/N,” Changmin hums, tone of voice barely louder than a whisper. Your eyes don’t meet in the confidentiality of it all, but your heart still squeezes on itself. “I’ll get us out of this town even if it’s the last thing I do.”

The low murmur of the school cafeteria lands into your ears as you stand in the line for food, Changmin’s tall figure in front of you turning to face you, an annoyed sigh heaving out of his throat. “Now I remember why I never fucking go to this place.”

“Oh, right,” you nod, shrugging to yourself as if to show your absolute fury with the fact that you’ve been standing in the line for more than 10 minutes now, a third of your lunch break already passing by like a flash, “it was never because I was too broke. The line was always the problem.”

The male in front of you snickers at your ironic remark. You’re convinced you could count the amount of times you’ve been to the school cafeteria to buy lunch on the fingers of one hand. Most of the time, you take whatever remains of food you can find at home with you. Lunch money is reserved for your little sister only– and even that is on special occasions. Usually, you try to buy her the cheapest things you can find at the store downtown– the retailed bread that’s too old to sell at original price now, but still fresh enough to eat– but when you figure you have enough money in the week to spend, you give her enough to buy lunch at school. For you, buying your own warm lunch at school feels like a holiday. You’ve lived through more Christmases than cafeteria lunches, you think.

“Starting to doubt if it’s even worth it anyway,” Changmin fusses, folding his hands at his chest. You don’t think you’ve ever met a more impatient person than him. If things take too long, he gives up on them– like the line in the grocery store the other day. You made the mistake of inviting him to buy groceries with you, but when he realized the self-checkout lines were too long, he just carried your groceries out without paying, grinning at your shocked face the moment you unsuspectedly got out of the store. ‘It’s okay to steal from big corporations,’ he justified. ‘They won’t feel the loss.’

“Changmin, this is my first time buying lunch this year,” you sigh, “have some patience. Of course it’s worth it– it’s a celebration of our hard work.”

“Does this feel satisfactory?” he doubts, pointing a thumb behind him to show the line in front of you two– which, just by the way, moved a ton, meaning it’s gonna be your turn soon.

“Not yet,” you admit, chuckling to yourself, “but the feeling will come once I bite into the soggy, half-cold pizza. Trust,” you point a finger to him and poke him in his stomach, that has, just by the way, growled in hunger three times since you’ve taken your place in the line for food.

“Of course you chose to get lunch on pizza day…”

“What do you have me for?” you scoff. “I have some culture.”

“Says the person who hasn’t seen Train to Busan before. Girl, you’re the farthest thing from cultured, trust me.”

“You call Train to Busan our national treasure?” you ask, blinking at the boy in pure confusion. You don’t trust a man like Ji Changmin to be the film critic of modern age, to be fair, but you think even this opinion is quite far-stretched.

Changmin furrows his brows at you, clicking his tongue. “You’re only saying that because you haven’t seen the movie.”

“Well, I haven’t been given the opportunity to watch it, so I don’t see how that’s my problem.”

The line finally moves and lets you two get your lunch. The lady behind the counter looks even less pleasant than you remember her– with more gray hair and a more tired expression on her face– and the food isn’t much either even by looking at it. Still, you feel a sense of satisfaction run through your veins when you look at the sad-looking plate. You earned this pizza. This soggy, bad, a little shoe sole-looking pizza. You put a lot of effort into buying this plate, and although it doesn’t necessarily represent the determination, at least it represents the morality of your earned money– and you know what, at the end of the day, you think that’s fair.

Walking away to one of the empty tables in the cafeteria, carrying your tray in both of your hands and following Changmin’s lead, you feel your stomach churn at the image of the pizza on your plate. It sure doesn’t look great, but it looks edible– you still consider it to be a reward.

However, before you get a chance to sit down and bite into the meal, your side suddenly comes in contact with something firm, yet soft, the impact of the hit making you stumble and fall over to the hard linoleum. The tray of food you’ve had in your hands is knocked out of your grasp, falling to the ground with a loud noise, and the force in which you hit the floor makes your butt sting in pain. The moment comes by like a blur, and before you even get a chance to register what happened, a train of apologies lands into your ears.

“Oh my god, Y/N, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to–” a boy a little shorter than Changmin (that’s just standing by your side, looking a little taken-aback, but still uninterested in the commotion, not at all trying to help you out), stutters out. You recognise him to be your classmate Eric Sohn– one of the people you’ve never really spoken to before, because you had no reason to do so. He is a loud extrovert, a people person, a bundle of never ending energy. He’s charismatic, but not someone you would find yourself hanging out with (not that you really hang out with anyone other than the criminal by your side anyway)– and a little inkling in your brain tells you that one of the reasons for this fact is Eric’s high social status.

“Are you okay?” he asks, offering you his hand to bring you back up to your feet.

Wincing in pain as you take his grasp and get back into a standing position, you wonder if he was running– there was no way the sheer force of him walking would send you to the ground. Once you take a closer look at the boy, you notice his blushing cheeks and an incredibly guilty look on his face, notifying you of the fact that you haven’t replied to him yet, still too shocked by the events. “I’m okay, yeah,” you nod, eyes shifting to the plate on the ground. It didn’t break, but your pizza slice is very visibly on the ground– and no matter how desperate you are for food right now, you consider it too contaminated to be eaten.

“I am so sorry, Y/N, I wasn’t looking where I was going– oh god, your uniform is all dirty,” he points to your white button-down, now stained with the last remains of the soup that was seemingly in one of the plates your classmate was carrying.

“It’s… it’s okay–”

“I’ll pay for you to get it dry cleaned!” he stammers, eyes wide and bangs falling into his eyes, the boyish, panicked aura around him making you feel kind of bad for him. Which is strange– you are the one in pain and without lunch now. Not him.

“No, really, it’s okay, Eric… It was an accident–”

“And your lunch is ruined! God,” he grunts, scrambling to pick up all the dishes from the floor, cleaning up the mess. “I’ll get you a new one. Just… wait here, I’ll be right back!” the boy assures you, running off with the trays and plates, aiming for the area designated for discarding them.

Like in a trance, you take a seat at the table, following Changmin. Scratching the back of your neck, you sigh and aimlessly stare at your companion, watching as he eats his pizza. Casually speaking the fact into existence, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, the male decides to make you choke at his words.

“You should get on that, Y/N,” he notes, snickering.

“Huh?”

“You know what I mean. Man’s rich as fuck, Y/N,” he says as he swallows down the bite, shrugging. “He’d fit perfectly into your little plan,” Changmin schemes, pointing a finger at your face.

“Stop being ridiculous,” you grunt, “why would I do that? He doesn’t even like me, so–”

“Oh, as if,” Changmin rolls his eyes, speaking with his mouth full, “he looked at you as if you were Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N. He clearly has a crush on you. And, respectfully, any man would want to get with someone like you– why do you think our plan is working so well? You’re hot enough, that’s why,” he shrugs, making you blink at the male in surprise.

Hot enough? Did Ji Changmin just call you hot? You’d rather not focus on that part of the exchange.

“Shut up, Changmin,” you sigh, “besides, I’m not doing that to him.”

“Why not? I thought our motto was ‘eat the rich’, no?”

“Yeah,” you grunt, nodding to the boy, tone of voice ironic, showing him just how stupid he sounds right in this moment, “but it’s ‘eat the icky old rich men’, not ‘eat unsuspecting, innocent rich’, Changmin. Got it?”

“You’re missing out on–”

“I said no,” you cut him off, pointing a finger right in the middle of his forehead. Something about your authoritative tone gets the point across, making the boy sigh.

“Jeez, okay, if you really say so…”

Opening your mouth to continue on with the sentiment, you’re quickly cut off by Eric’s voice coming from beside you, the boy suddenly appearing at your table. “Here,” he says, a bashful look on his face as he puts the tray in front of you, two slices of pizza and a box of orange juice settled on the red plastic dish, “I’m really sorry again! And…” he starts, scratching the back of his neck, “and here is my number, so if you want me to… uh… pay for the cleaning of that, or whatever, just… let me know, okay?” he smiles awkwardly, pointing to a piece of paper settled under the juice box, having you blink up at him in surprise.

Before you get a chance to protest, Eric pays you two his goodbyes and rushes out of the cafeteria, cheeks red and an expression a little alarmed. You’re not an expert in body language, but the more you think about it, the clearer it gets.

Ji Changmin is right. Eric Sohn does clearly have a crush on you.

If that even means anything…

The house is silent. Your naked feet clad through your room as you open your drawer, fingers reaching for the soft fabric of your socks. It’s gotten a bit chilly, so you automatically go and try to warm yourself up with one of your thick garments. Fingers unraveling the sock ball, prepared to find dollar bills inside– already knowing you’ll take a part of it and give it to your sister in the morning so she can get some lunch at school– a momentarily shock washes over you when you find the sock ball empty.

Confused, you furrow your brows and check the insides of the socks. You remember very clearly that you put some of your money into this specific pair just a few days ago.

Or maybe you didn’t… You’ve been tired the last few days. You could be remembering it wrong. Maybe this particular sock ball didn’t have money in it in the first place.

Still, you reach for another sock ball, hands a little shaky as you look through it. When you notice the lack of bills inside, your heart starts hammering against your chest, sweat appearing on your forehead. Searching through another one and another one and another one, you find all sock balls empty. There is no money where you hid it. It’s all gone.

Thousands of won gone. Vanished. Nowhere to be found.

Where could they go? Who could’ve taken them?

In the few seconds that pass before the fact that all of your money is nowhere to be seen fully settles into your brain, your feet react on themselves and drag you out of the comfort of your room, making you jog downstairs. Reaching the living room, finding your mother laying on the sofa with a bottle of rum next to her on the ground, you feel the amount of patience you’ve had with her slowly overflowing, frustration taking its deserved place in your body as you scream at her sleeping figure.

“Did you take my money?” you yell, watching as your mother slowly opens her eyes at you and blinks in confusion, the alcohol haze around her stinking and making you sick to your stomach. The woman looks at you with zero ounces of sympathy behind her eyes, no words escaping from between her lips as she continues to wordlessly stare at you.

“Mum! Did you take my money?” you scream, clenching your hands into a fist, chewing on your bottom lip in frustration.

“I needed the money,” she says, a groggy voice cutting through the silent house.

Running your hand through your hair, an amused chuckle leaves your throat. “Did you use it all? Is it all gone?”

“I needed it,” she only adds, turning on her side and proceeding to ignore you, which makes fury hammer against your chest with more force than ever before.

“You needed the money. You needed it,” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “For what, mum? You needed the money to give to Aerin so she could have lunch? You needed the money to buy groceries? To pay for the bills when a man comes to our house and tells me we haven’t paid enough for our electricity bill? You needed the money for all of that, right?” you chuckle, frustration making you kick your foot against the side of the couch.

“Or did you need the money to buy alcohol, mum? Is that what you needed it for? Is that more important?” you bite, watching as your mother looks at you with stern eyes, the words finally entering her bubble and getting to her heart.

“Don’t speak to me like that. I am your mother.”

“You’re only my mother when you want to scold me!” you yell back, your words resonating through the silence. “Why won’t you be my mother when I need to feed my sister? When I need to take care of the house? Why aren’t you my mother when I need you?!” you scream, a sob involuntarily dragging out of your throat as you finally verbalize the words you’ve been biting back since this whole situation arised.

“I brought you to this life. I raised you!” she screams back, merciless words stabbing you in the back like daggers coming for your heart. “So when I say I needed the money, I have every right to take it!”

“Do you?!” you argue. “Do you. Did you earn that money, mum? Because the last time I checked, you got fired and the only person trying to keep this family afloat is me!” you scream, watching as your mother sits up in her place, a tired sigh escaping her throat.

“Don’t you dare yell at me!” she gestures with her hand.

“Well, then don’t take what’s not yours! Because now, I’ll have to work my ass of to get all of that back, because you won’t try to get your fucking life together–”

“Don’t swear at me,” your mother drags out, tone of voice stone cold and serious. It sends chills down your spine, a teardrop trail down your cheekbone and towards your jaw. You have a staring contest with your mother, one in which you question just how much impact your argument has on her– if she recognises the fury and anger and translates it as grief, just like your insides have been doing for so long now.

Behind her glossy eyes, there’s not much for you to read, though. You lost that ability a long time ago. It’s one of the things you mourn the most.

“Y/N?” you hear a small voice call from behind you. It has you snap your head around and watch your sister shrinking away in the doorway behind you, holding on to the wall. Aerin’s eyes are glossy and scared, shaking from you to your mother, her little face morphed in anxiety as she chews on her bottom lip in nerves.

That has your fury dissolving– at least on the outside. You can’t afford to fail at protecting your sister from everything. Wiping your own tears harshly, you clear your throat and move to her hunched-over body, placing a comforting palm on her back, leading her upstairs to her bedroom.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” you hum groggily, sniffling on your way to the top of the stairs, “it’s okay. Me and mum just didn’t… we had a bit of an argument, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

As you cover up your sister with the duvet on her bed, she looks at you with watery eyes, a little voice shaking as she inquires. “We don’t have money?”

“Of course we do, dummy,” you snicker, shaking your head. “We do. Don’t you worry, Aerin-ie. I’ll take care of everything, yeah? Get those worries out of your head.”

“But you said–”

“Let the adults deal with this, yeah? It’s gonna be fine.”

“But you’re not even an adult yet,” Aerin furrows her brows, restless eyes not closing as she tries to wrap her head around the situation. No child ever should worry about things like this. And she’s right– you’re not an adult yet either, but as the older one of you, you think it’s your responsibility to take care of things. Just because you can’t afford to not worry about your situation doesn’t mean you will let your sister down and drag her with you.

“That’s right,” you sniffle, laughing airly as you rub her upper arm through the fabric of the duvet, “so that means I can still share a bed with you, yeah?” you force a smile to your lips, watching as your sister nods and scoots over in her place, letting you hug her from the side and snuggle into the warmth of her sheets.

“Everything will be alright,” you whisper into her ear, trying hard to provide her head with some distraction.

It’s kind of ironic, if you really think about it. Both of your parents failed you, but you were only truly hit with the reality of your mother’s betrayal. Who is your father if not the first man to ever disappoint you, right? You came to peace with the fact a few weeks after he left for good– you thought you didn’t need him. You could be good without him.

It seems like your mother needed him more than anything, though. Sometimes, you wish she chose her children instead.

Holding your little sister to your chest, you decide to do everything to protect her. You’d do anything it takes if it means she won’t have to worry about her future. If that’s your responsibility, then so be it– you are more than willing to carry it.

“I don’t think this looks right,” you mumble as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, furrowed eyebrows on full display as the girl staring back at you doesn’t look half similar to how she usually appears.

You’re wearing a skirt you bought from your savings last month– wanting to treat yourself to something nice– and a cropped shirt that shoves a trace of your skin in the midriff. You’re wearing your old shoes that admittedly throw off the whole look a little– but you don’t have anything else to wear, so that’s what you’re going with. The outfit wouldn’t be the strangest thing about your appearance today– although you’re not the one to wear skirts casually, with the only exception being your school uniform.

The thing that is throwing you off the most about your apparel is the coat of makeup on your face. You and Changmin walked into a drugstore after your classes were over, trying your hardest to make you look the most enchanting you can. You did your makeup with the testers, going through three different lipstick choices before your companion was satisfied, and only when you finally escaped the fluorescent lights of the store and looked at yourself in the daylight is when you realize just how different your face looks to its usual.

“It does,” Changmin shakes his head, standing up from his place on your bed and walking over to your figure, prompting a finger below your chin to angle your head a little, staring at you from up close. His eyes glaze over your skin, making your throat dry out from being so closely examined. “You look different, but it doesn’t look bad.”

“It doesn’t look good either,” you sigh, escaping his gaze and turning around in your place, watching yourself in the mirror once again. The male leans against the desk behind him, communicating from your behind.

A sigh escapes Changmin’s throat at your words, rolling his eyes. “Be serious for once. You look good.”

“My face is all cakey,” you frown.

“You only notice when you see it from up close,” Changmin says, “and I don’t think Eric’s gonna look at you from up close. He’d shit his pants.”

“You’re not helping.”

“That’s because you won’t let me help,” he grunts. “No matter how many times I tell you that you look good won’t change the fact that you won’t admit it to yourself.”

“I don’t look like myself.”

“You do!” he runs his hands through his hair, shaking his head in frustration. “You always look pretty, it’s just… today you look like you put more effort into your appearance,” Changmin huffs, his voice growing a little more quiet at the end of the sentence. Your eyes meet with his in the full-length mirror, watching as the tips of the boy’s ears tint a pink hue, the warmth spreading to his cheeks at the compliment that just so casually slipped through his lips. “Which– which is good, because you wanna look like you put effort into a date with a rich boy, y’know?” he adds, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

His words comfort you a bit. Trying hard not to meet his gaze in the mirror– because you suddenly feel a bit bashful under his gaze– you nod to yourself and focus on the hem of your skirt for the thousandth time, making sure it fits right against your skin. “How does one act on a date? I’ve never been on one.”

“You go on dates every week,” Changmin snickers.

“I meant real dates. The dates you have with people your age,” you roll your eyes, watching as the boy cheeses and shrugs to himself.

“Well,” he starts, “he already likes you. Like, a lot. So making him fall for you won’t be a problem, because I’m quite certain it already happened.”

His words have you feeling a little bad for Eric Sohn. He’s just an unsuspecting teenager that just so happens to be born into a rich family. He likes you– quite obviously so– and you’re going to break all the trust he has in you and use him for your own personal gain. It’s not morally good to do anything like this. You should be ashamed of yourself.

But then again, you think of all the paths you have to take just to survive. You lost a lot of money, and you need to get it back again– and you need to do it fast.

There’s no time for you to feel bad for Eric. You have to think of your sister first.

“I think you just have to pretend you like him back. Like… listen to him when he talks about boring stuff. Smile a lot– he’ll go crazy over your smile. Don’t be too touchy on the first date, or else it would come off as you being too eager, but if you manage to get a casual touch in without being too clingy, that’s bonus points,” Changmin hums, listing off all advice he can think of.

“Just be yourself, honestly. You have the guy wrapped around your finger anyway,” Changmin shrugs. “Let him pay for everything. Abuse the power you hold, Y/L/N.”

Nodding to yourself, you take a mental note of everything Changmin told you. “I don’t think it’s really fair to him, still.”

“Well, when was ever life fair to you?” he asks, tone of voice suddenly more sincere, more tender than the usual way he speaks to you. It has your eyes meeting again in the mirror, an unspoken understatement making you feel a tinge of bittersweetness in your insides, your gaze communicating the words you can’t quite materialize into existence.

The eye contact is broken as the male stands up from his place and pokes your exposed midriff with his finger, laughing at seeing you squirm before he dives into your bed sheets once again, a muffled yell sent your way from the cushion of your pillow.

“Go get him, tiger!”

“Why don’t we finish this at my place?” the man– you think his name was Baekho– asks you with a suggestive smile on his face after he pays for your dinner.

This man was particularly hard to get to. He seemed smarter than the others– keeping his belongings close to himself, paying more attention to his surroundings. You and Changmin didn’t manage to go along with your initial plan, which made you tense on the inside as it was– his suggestion only made your heart drum harder against your ribcage, the self-preservation instinct within you telling you to run.

“I am actually not really feeling well, so I’ll head home,” you nod, a stern smile fighting its place onto your lips.

“Don’t be silly,” the male opposes, shaking his head at you like you would at a child when it does something wrong and you can’t believe a human like that will someday grow into a fully functioning adult, “the night is still young, baby.”

Standing up from your place, following his motions, you turn your head sharply around and send a look full of worry to your companion. Changmin raises his eyebrows at you in question, but for the sake of your secrecy, you don’t pay him much of an answer in fear of where an explicit call for help would lead you.

“Thank you so much for the dinner, really,” you try to seem welcoming, you try to play it off and put up a nonchalant facade, smiling at the man that towers over you, “but I really should get going.”

“Let me give you a ride home, then,” he insists, glazing your elbow with his hand, making you shudder at the action, acid hunting your tongue.

“That won’t be necessary, I don’t live far–”

“Oh, don’t be stupid. Let me show you my car,” the male grunts, harshly gripping your elbow and dragging you away from the restaurant.

One of the biggest mistakes you made today was the fact that you chose to meet with this man in the evening. Most of the dates you go on happen in the afternoon, providing you with more sense of safety– you should’ve known that this gathering would end differently to all the other ones you’ve been to. You get dragged away into one of the poorly-lit alleys, no cars in sight, and you swear you can feel the imprint of his hand burning on your skin.

“Please, let me go so I can–”

“So you think you can just go on a date with someone like me, bribe me to buy you dinner, and then leave me nothing in return? That’s not how it works around here, sweetheart,” the male grits through his teeth, dragging you along the alley despite you trying to wrestle your way out of his grip.

He’s stronger than you, and he’s taking that into advantage. The danger in your chest hammers stronger than any time before, alerting you of the fact that if a miracle doesn’t happen, you’re going to either die tonight, or be marked by the events of this date forever. Oh, what a foolish idea it was to go along with this. You should’ve known this was bound to end in a disaster from how well it’s been going since the start.

Trying to kick around in the male’s grip, huffing and screaming out– but knowing nobody’s going to hear you in the buzz of the nightlife– you gulp on nothing and try to use all your adrenaline for getting yourself out of the situation.

“Stop squirming, you know it’s not going to help you–”

The male suddenly grunts, a wince of pain flashing through his eyes.

A miracle happens. Ji Changmin with his mask pulled up and his cap down low shielding his face appears in your point of vision, a bloody knife in his hand. When your shaky pupils look around, taking in your surroundings, you notice the man crouching down and holding his leg, growling like a wounded animal.

Too shocked to do anything yourself, you let Changmin drag you behind him with his arm, shielding you from the man. You faintly notice him launching after your companion, but before he has a chance to fight with him, Changmin puts the knife up, threatening the male. You haven’t seen him fight anyone before– only heard of the quarrels he’s gotten into in the foster home or on the streets– but something about his swift movements and the kicks aimed at your attacker makes you feel a little safer, a tinge of relief flowing through your veins. He looks like he knows what he’s doing. He seems to have the situation at least partially under his control.

“Run!” you hear Changmin yell at you, only paying you attention for a spare second as he looks at you over his shoulder.

You do as you’re told, but still keep looking back at your savior, watching as he kicks the man into his crotch area and slices the knife against the skin of his upper hand before he stabs him again, the pained groans echoing against the walls of the alleyway. There’s something terrifying about Changmin’s skills, leaving you wondering where he learned all of this– but before you get a chance to ponder on the origins of his self-defense skills any further, you hear his voice calling for the male.

“Don’t follow us, or this will end up worse,” he growls, still threatening the male with the pocket knife. “Try to go after us and I’ll tell the police you’re a pedophile– she’s only 17. You heard me?”

When the male doesn’t give him a reply, Changmin lets out a satisfied snicker. “That’s what I thought.”

Changmin runs up to you and drags you by your hand, tugging you out of the alleyway. The bloody knife is quickly hidden in his pocket as you charge through the streets, making sure you’re as far away from the man as possible. You stumble a little over your feet, making Changmin hold onto your hand a little stronger, dragging you behind a corner of a 24/7 bistro on the end of the street two blocks away, hiding you from the sight of the main road by the shade behind the building.

“Shit, are you okay?” he asks, looking you over with examining eyes. His shaky fingers take ahold of your chin, turning your face around to see any possible damage, letting go only when he’s sure there are no bruises on your cheeks, gripping your shoulders instead, breathing heavily. “Fuck. I’m so sorry,” he sighs out, his composure faltering a little, the contrast between him from a few minutes ago to now so big it leaves you weak in your knees.

“I’m okay,” you nod, barely registering the shakiness of your own voice.

The words have him tugging you close to him, arms wrapping around your body. He holds you as if he’s making sure you’re still there, all intact and alive, a hand sneaking into your hair petting it in an affectionate act you’ve never received from the male in the months you’ve spent working with him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault,” you choke out. The previous sense of danger slowly evaporates out of you, heart relaxing, your brain getting the signal that you’re finally safe and sound. Closing your eyes for a minute, you allow yourself to mold against his figure, foolishly adjusting to the way his grip around you brings you a sense of newly found serenity and calm.

“Kinda is. We’re never doing this again,” he says, and if you tune in with his body hard enough, you feel a slight tremble of his arms.

“It’s fine, we can–”

“No,” he sighs, “there’s other ways. Safer ones.”

And it’s kind of strange– the way Ji Changmin demonstrates that your safety matters to him more than the money gain you’ve been both chasing after for the past few months. The things you two do to get by are never morally right and never the safest options, but when he lets go of you and holds his face in his hands before giving you a head pat, you know what he means: he’ll rather take the harder way than to leave you so vulnerable ever again.

Your shoes get discarded at the doorstep and your feet are quickly put into the guest slippers that reminds you too much of the ones you see in fancy hotels on the TV– the white, thin footwear you wear only to be polite, since they do nothing to keep your feet comfortable or warm, your heels thudding against the floor with as much force they would’ve if you wore only your socks. Eric takes off your coat and hangs it in the hall, like the true gentleman he was raised to be, and leads you into the house.

The ceilings are high, walls are various shades of white and cream, floors either mirror-like marble or expensive, hard wood. The whole house looks like it was taken out of a furniture catalog or made for one, everything fitting together in a simple, yet polished beauty. The decorations are simple and sleek, but they still make the whole place look put together. The floors are clean, not a speck of dust on either of the bookshelves you pass when the boy leads you into the common area, not a single mug misplaced or a dish forgotten in the sink. The air is fresh in the spacious rooms, yet it’s still quite overbearing, not letting you breathe.

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asks, almost a little nervously.

“Just water is fine, thank you,” you smile, agreeing. Your throat is suddenly dry, almost begging for the cold liquid to splash down and hydrate it a bit before you completely choke out.

Eric nods, leaving you alone in the living room. The big plasma TV seems to be framed against the wall, like an artwork in the gallery, and although it still gets a look full of awe out of you, you find the sentiment a bit ridiculous to look at. You feel like you’re in the Truman show– everyone’s watching your reactions through the camera, laughing at the fact that this is the first time you’ve set your foot into a place filled with so many expensive things, making you scared to even move in fears of breaking something more than your yearly rent. You must look like a deer in the headlights, clueless and shocked at the state of your surroundings, and it suddenly makes you self conscious as you decide to walk around the room and focus on what you’re here for– the plan.

Eyes scanning the contents of vitrines, the crystal glasses and expensive wine bottles, you try hard to mentally calculate the worth of everything in the house– you find yourself failing, though, since you can’t even tell just how much each thing costs, too far out of your league to even assume the price tag. There’s a particular display of jewelry you recognise from back when you worked in the store, scoffing when you add up the prices of the chains you once sold to an old man wanting a gift for his wife’s birthday– something about the number of digits making you feel just the tiniest bit infuriated.

How come some people have so much, yet you have so little? What makes them deserve it and makes you work tirelessly to afford a living? Why can they afford vacations in Greece and Dubai, yet you keep gluing together the last remains of your money to buy groceries for your sister?

It’s ridiculous. It’s frustrating.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you move towards a wall filled with pictures– each framed in a white or silver frame so they fit together like a jigsaw puzzle for your eyes, aesthetically pleasing each guest that’s ever crossed the threshold of the house– gazing at the memories captured on the photos.

You recognise the little boy on all of them to be Eric. There’s a girl, a few years older than him, but undoubtedly his sister, with her arm around his shoulders, a silly smile plastered on both of their faces so similar the resemblance is uncanny. There are a few pictures with all 4 of them on the wall as well, sun shining into their eyes as they all squint into the camera, posing in front of various monuments. A few of the mementos are from the beaches of Europe, some are from the hiking trails of Asia, and the one with Eric’s hair longer and in little curls, very obviously one of the most recent ones with how much he resembles the boy currently in the kitchen fetching you with a glass of water, standing on a surfboard, was taken in the waves of the american west coast. You remember him saying something about having family there, so it’s not unusual for him to visit often.

A knife laced with the green poison of jealousy cuts you somewhere into your abdomen. It’s not only the expensive luxuries he gets to experience that make you long for a life like his– it’s also the carelessness, the joy. It’s the care you see in his parents’ eyes on the pictures, the obvious love shared in the photographs– they’re taken not to boost their privilege, but to remember their happiest moments. You wish you had something like that. A functional family. One that cares for each other. One that doesn’t put obstacles under each other’s feet.

“Here you go,” Eric’s voice wakes you up from the slumber, making you jolt and take the glass of water he’s offering to you into your grasp, taking a sip.

“Thanks,” you nod, smiling.

Watching Eric from under your eyelashes, you notice his eyes glazing the frames you’ve been focusing on before. Licking his lips, the boy speaks up with a voice laced with genuine absurdity, pointing towards the wall.

“You must think this is just ridiculous,” he notes, scratching the back of his neck. Eric Sohn isn't stupid– although he grew up in luxury, he can still recognise the imbalance of resources the two of you have. You don’t know why he is being self-conscious about it, though.

“Not really,” you note, shrugging, “it’s just… quite unbelievable, to be fair.”

“Yeah,” he snickers, “we don’t really go on many vacations anymore, to be honest. We used to go on many when I was a kid,” he says, making you recognise the fact that most of the pictures did indeed look older– back from when Eric was younger.

You never really went on vacations when you were little. There was always something that got into the way– your parents either had a fight just in the middle of the summer, or you simply didn’t have enough money to travel anywhere, since you were surviving from paycheck to paycheck. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you start to wonder about the difference it makes to miss something you once used to have, and the desire for something you never got to experience. Which one is worse? Or are they not really comparable at all?

“My dad started working much more, so he doesn’t really have time. My sister got married, so she has her own family to worry about,” he shrugs, trying hard to play it casual– somewhere in the depth of his dark orbs, though, you notice that he’s battling away the fact that it upsets him. “I was really close with my sister,” he chuckles, pointing towards one of the picture frames where she’s putting up a peace sign behind his head, photobombing their own picture together, “I miss her sometimes.”

The role of the older sister is perhaps the one you try your hardest to keep. Will your little sister miss you the same way Eric does now with his own sibling? Will it hurt her less or more? Will she resent you? You can’t imagine a world in which your sister hates you– do you choose to protect her always, or do you take a step forward so you can breathe too?

“Does she visit you at all?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he hums. “It’s just not the same. That’s alright, though,” he shrugs, pressing his lips together into a tight line, “little Eric had a very happy family, at least. Can’t complain about that.”

And when you lock eyes with him, the sympathy oozing into the spacious, silent, almost lonely-looking place, you recognize the reality of it all– that no matter how fortunate you are in life, no matter how much money you have, there will always be struggles. Life always has its way of finding your weak spots and hitting where it hurts, strangling you and leaving you breathless in the battle of it all. You either don’t go on vacations at all, or you once did and now you can’t– either way, it hurts to think of what ifs and to remind yourself of all that once was and is now wasted.

For the first time since you met Eric Sohn, you start to see him as human. You start to see him as someone with his own life, his own emotions, his own struggles.

Maybe Changmin was wrong to tell you to get closer with the male. Now, having the insight to his thoughts, having the image of his once so idyllic life that’s now so far away, lonely, makes it harder for you to think of what you’re supposed to do when the time comes– mercilessly, completely selfishly.

You’re not so sure you can proceed with the plan anymore.

You miscalculated your abilities.

“Do you really need to write it all down?” you squint at your companion, feeling at least a little comical when you watch him scribble down a list onto a lined sheet of paper, blue ink twinkling in the sun.

“Yeah,” he nods, totally focused on the task at hand. “So we don’t miss out on any important information. Everything’s useful.”

A sigh leaves your mouth at that, making you shaking your head in disbelief. Changmin is currently laying on his stomach in the grass, not a picnic blanket in sight– just his bare shirt against the ground– and as you sit cross legged against the tree in the very corner of the park, enjoying the breeze playing with your hair, you start to wonder just how innocent and carefree you must look to the rest of the people. Just two friends enjoying their weekend in the park. Nothing else. No shady business going on– you promise!

“So you said there was a bunch of jewelry?” Changmin asks, tapping the glitter pen against his chin. You don’t really know where he came across one, but you don’t dare to ask. You know he was eyeing one of the fancy glitter gel pens in the dollar store when you last went to buy a notebook for class with him after school, so you guess you know the source of his newest shiny toy. He’s like a crow, you think. Both with the love for anything that glimmers and the love for stealing.

“Yeah,” you hum, “like at every rich person’s house,” you shrug, not really knowing what his deal was.

“Okay, good. Visible? Unprotected?”

“Are you asking if it was locked like in a jewelry store?” you snicker, rolling your eyes at him. “Because if so, the answer is no, Changmin. Who in their right mind has their personal belongings locked in their own home? Right. No one.”

“Just making sure. I don’t know how it works with rich people, I’ve never been one of those,” Changmin hums, not paying your sarcastic remarks much mind. “But this is good, it works in our favor. What other valuables have you laid your eyes upon during your visit?”

You try to think back to the day you went over to the Sohn’s mansion. You didn’t really see the majority of the house– since Eric didn’t give you a full tour and you didn’t really think it was appropriate to ask for one– so all you know about the stuff he has at home is from the living room, the entry hall and his bedroom.

“A game console of some kind? I don’t know, dude…”

“A PS5?”

“God, I dunno,” you mumble, furrowing your brows at the boy. “Do I look like an expert?”

“Right,” he sighs, licking his lips. “Well, we can only assume. Next?”

His glitter pen scribbles the words ‘PS5 (?)’ into the notepad right below the words ‘expensive jewelry’, making you chuckle. You really don’t know what he’s trying to achieve over here– well, the main goal is clear, you’d say– you just don’t really know why he has to have a complete list. It’s not like you’re going to rob his house of everything. You don’t have the capacity to do all that.

“Well, I don’t know. I doubt you want me to carry out his plasma TV or something, so I think this is all I can really give you right now,” you mumble, shrugging. “As if this whole thing isn’t totally immoral in the first place.”

“Y/N, sweetie, I told you to forget about morals long ago.”

“Not everyone is morally gray by default, Changminnie. It takes a while to recalibrate,” you say, rolling your eyes at his phlegmatism. If only you could live your life with Ji Changmin’s mindset. You bet handling a lot of things would be much easier.

Eyes searching through the trees and the greenery, you take a mental note of your sister’s whereabouts. You’re glad you were finally able to take her out of the house. Her friends invited her out, and although it’s only in the neighborhood, you’re much happier with keeping an eye on her, just in case. You’re much more concerned with safety of your little sister ever since you came in contact with breaking the law– you realized just how many people with bad intentions are on the planet, and although you’re not one of the people engaging in child trafficking, something about tasting danger on your tongue makes you feel more cautious when it comes to Aerin’s safety.

She is currently laughing at something with her friends before she runs off, seemingly playing tag. The park is big enough for the girls to roam around without getting on the road, and it’s good for her to get some physical activity in. Shifting your attention back to Changmin, noticing him doodling shapes in the corners of his notebook, your mind settles back into conversation with him.

“Or maybe you’re just starting to like your boyfriend a little too much,” Changmin scoffs, making you furrow your brows in confusion.

“I don’t think me not feeling 100% happy with planning to rob someone I know is the cause of me suddenly being in love with my fake boyfriend,” you note, “that’s just, y’know. Being a human being with basic empathy.”

“Fake boyfriend?” Changmin repeats, completely disregarding the rest of your sentence.

“Well, it’s not exactly real, is it?” you laugh, a hint of discomfort on your tongue. “Makes me feel kinda bad, but–”

“So you’re dating?”

Blinking once, then twice at the boy in front of you, you scratch the back of your neck in nerves. “Is that not what you wanted me to do?”

“No, it is, it’s just… is it, y’know, official?”

“Define official.”

“Does he call you his girlfriend?”

Plucking a stem of grass from the ground, twirling it around in your fingers– because looking into Changmin’s eyes is suddenly too unbearable in this situation– you shrug. “Sometimes.”

“Ah,” the male nods, an unreadable expression sitting at his face. “So it’s pretty official, then.”

Not really giving him an answer to this argument– both because you’re suddenly a bit embarrassed, cheeks burning and ears ringing (even though you really don’t know what made you have this reaction, since you have no romantic feelings to your current significant other) and because you don’t really know what to say– you only chew on the inside of your cheek, examining the greenery in between your pointer and your thumb.

“Have you two kissed already?” Changmin asks, quite confidentially, making you kick him in the side of his thigh.

“God,” you sigh out, shaking your head. “No!”

The male in front of you clicks his tongue, a grin spreading over his features. There’s a boyish sparkle behind his eye, his expression not understandable to you, making your insides squeeze in a weird tinge of anxiety. “What?” you ask, but get no reply– just a soft laugh coming out of his throat, battling its way to your heartstrings.

“Nothing.”

“Changmin! What’s so funny?” you ask, hiding your cheeks into the palms of your hands. “It’s just– I don’t wanna do it if I don’t like him like that, y’know? It’s not as embarrassing as you make it to be–”

“Not for you, that is.”

“Changmin!”

“What?” he asks, the dimple on his cheek at full display when he faces you, clearly amused at your reaction. “Look, it’s just that if it was me–”

“Changminnie! Changminnie!” a high-pitched, female voice cuts your friend off, making both of you turn your heads towards the source currently running to you at full speed, laughter escaping your little sister’s throat.

“I bet you can’t catch me!” Aerin says, touching your friend by his shoulder to tag him into the game before she runs off, the rest of her friends looking behind their backs and watching as he scrambles up from his lying position, a smile of a beaming sun plastered onto his face.

You never learn what Changmin wanted to tell you that day. You don’t ask later– you forget, not really deeming the information as that important. The memory you have of the afternoon spent in the park is mostly the image of your friend running after your sister, the laughter of the little girl resonating through your brain like a distant taste of childhood you wish to visit.

Ji Changmin is a fast runner, but he makes sure to play according to the girls’ pace. His voice is cheerful as he taunts them, calling after them in the spacious park, and when he looks back over his shoulder at you, eyes locking, your heart is left soaring in your chest before an invisible hand pierces through your lungs and takes the muscle into its hold, as if to offer it to him.

You wish to make your sister’s laugh last forever. You hope to make her joy prominent in the memories of her childhood. You pray she never turns bitter.

And when one of the girls starts chasing after Changmin, her legs half as long as the boy’s, pace slower and muscles more tired, you watch the boy theatrically trip and fall to the ground, shielding his fall with his outstretched arms. The girls laugh as he loses the game, getting tagged, and after the male almost comically slowly gathers back up to his feet again, a thought flashes through your brain– how amazing life would be if it was just you three in it– just you, Aerin and Changmin, spending your afternoons together, free of any trouble.

How happy life would be if every afternoon went like this. How good life would be if you spent days together just like this, like family.

For the first time since your decision, you start to doubt your life plan. How can you leave a fantasy like this behind?

How could you ever leave your little sister alone?

“It’s happening soon, right?” Changmin asks, the two of you sitting next to each other on the bus stop. Changmin sometimes takes the bus back to the foster home after class when neither of you have plans, but due to your poor time management skills and awfully slow pace of packing your things up, it just so happened that the poor boy missed the earlier bus– which you tried to repay him for with offering him both your chocolate milk and your time as you stayed with him on the bus stop and waited for the nearest bus to the other side of the town with him.

“Hm?” you ask, a little confused at first. Then, it dawns on you. “Ah. Yeah, I guess.”

Changmin’s voice is soft, almost careful when he talks about the topic. You don’t often discuss your plan out loud together. It happens once a fortnight– after sealing the deal in the school yard that day, there always was a feeling of mutual understanding hanging over the two of you that said that even though it’s the reality you’re striding towards, you don’t really mention it out loud. As if not to jinx it.

Or maybe, the both of you just don’t really want to discuss something so difficult. It’s easier to prepare for it when you pretend it’s easy. When you don’t open up about just how scared the both of you clearly are.

“Are you… are you ready?” he asks, making you look at him with confused eyes, a hearty chuckle escaping your throat.

“As ready as I’ll ever be– which actually, just for the record, means no,” you say, watching as your companion hums and nods to himself, head clearly full of thoughts he’s a little afraid to say out loud.

You don’t blame him. Not at all, actually. Your own mind is full of conflicting thoughts and feelings, a battle of morality and selfish desire making a pit open in your stomach every time you think of the next step of your little plan. A part of you desperately needs to leave, to settle things once and for all, but another part of you is still hesitant. Maybe there’s another way. Maybe you could do something about it. Maybe you could try contacting your father again– one more call left to be sent into the voicemail really won’t hurt you right now.

You’ve been thinking a lot of similar things lately. Questioning the nature of your plan. Wondering if you’ll succeed, if it’s all worth it.

You don’t really talk about it, though. Not until now. You don’t know what gets you so weak and fragile.

“What if… what if there’s another way?” you ask, watching as the boy’s head spins to face you, eyes glossy as they stare back to yours.

“Hm?” he seems confused. “What do you mean?”

A little sigh escapes your throat at that, your head turning so you face the road again. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shrug. “I was just… I was just thinking, like… what if there’s a way for me to do all of this without leaving? Y’know, I could just…” you trail off, not really finishing your sentence. Truth is, you don’t really know where you were going with that statement either. Maybe you just said it out loud in hopes that Changmin would finish it and figure it out for you, offer you a different perspective, make a new plan– a plan where neither of you leave, a plan where neither of you have to cut ties with everything you know back home.

That’s a foolish thought, though. “What? Get 20 million won in a month a different way? A legal one? You’re gonna get another loan, or something?” Changmin chuckles, not really taking you seriously. Or maybe he is– you just feel a bit childish for having such unrealistic views.

“I don’t know,” you say, jaw clenching. “Maybe I could get another job, and start going on those dates again, and–”

“Yeah, no,” Changmin cuts you off, a huff escaping his lungs. “I know it’s hard, Y/N, but this is all you can do. This is the last resolution, or else you’re gonna lose your house, your mum will be homeless, and you two with Aerin will either end up with your dad– which is unlikely, from what you’ve told me– or at the foster home. If you’re lucky, maybe they’ll put you both to the same one–”

Something about his words feels like daggers are thrown into your skin. Like poison is on his tongue and you’re getting burned with each honest sentence that is uttered out your way. The truth hurts, it makes you feel like he’s only adding salt to an open wound, and it’s not fair of you to react that way– you’re certainly aware– but you can’t help it. The world is toppling over onto you, the weight is all on your shoulders, and you feel totally, utterly helpless. You feel overwhelmed. You feel tired.

“Okay, I get it,” you cut him off, shaking your head in a dismissive way and rolling your eyes at the boy. “It’s just that I don’t really like the thought of doing illegal stuff just to survive, y’know? It’s not exactly easy to steal and do all of this shit, and then leave. I know it must seem fun to you, since–”

“Fun?” Changmin cuts you off. A heartbeat of silence passes by between the two of you, and suddenly, you know you’ve crossed the line. You and Changmin can tell each other many things, but this time, you sound a lot like the people judging him on the street. You sound a lot like the police officers always letting him off without punishment– he’s a kid from the foster home. He does this stuff for attention, doesn’t he? For fun. For satisfaction. He doesn’t know any better– that’s how he was raised. Right?

“Fun,” he repeats. “You think I’m doing this for fun, huh?” he chuckles. You notice his knee bumping up and down in the periphery of your vision, a nervous action just begging to tick you off. “That’s not exactly something I expected you to say, but okay–”

“Well, that’s how we fucking ended up here in the first place, didn’t we?”

“I’ve been doing this for you!” he spits, voice rising and making you flinch. “For you, and for me. For our fucking futures,” he says. You refuse to look at him even when he stands up from his place on the bench, situating his figure in front of your body still hunched up on the hard wood. “I’ve been doing this for the both of us, because we deserve a better life than this, Y/N.”

“A better future?” you laugh, bitterness dripping off your tongue. “In hiding. On a run.”

“Do you prefer being homeless? Being thrown into the foster home for a few days before you age out of the system and your little sister is left there with the other kids? Kids like me?” he says mercilessly, only adding gas to the fire.

“You know that’s not what I meant–”

“Oh, trust me, Y/N, I know,” he says, irony slipping through his words. “You’re just saying this because you’re scared. Because you feel selfish–”

“And isn’t it true, Changmin? Isn’t selfish what we both are?” you say, your eyes finally meeting with the boy’s. His hair is disheveled as if he’s been running his hands through it in frustration, eyebrows furrowed and a displeased expression is sitting at his features. On most days, Ji Changmin looks like a cunning fox– full of mischief, full of secrets. Now, though, it’s like you see right through him. Somewhere along the way, you feel like you’re the one that started building up a wall in the middle of this argument. “How could I ever just leave my sister there? You could never understand–”

“I can’t, huh?” he says, nothing close to the gentle softness in his voice now, all disappearing from when he spoke to you just a few minutes ago. His voice is harsh, hoarse, even, something behind his eyes shifting in the middle of the fight. “Why? Because I don’t have siblings? Because I have nothing to lose?”

“You wouldn’t know how leaving someone behind feels,” you let out, but even as you’re saying it, you feel immediately disgusted with yourself. How could you ever say this to his face?

Changmin looks like he was slapped in his face. You swear he winces at your words, bottom lip trapped between his lips as he stares you down. The corners of your eyes start burning like there’s been acid poured into your sockets, hands trembling in the reality of your words. The boy in front of you nods to himself, harshly breathing in.

“I wouldn’t know how leaving someone behind feels,” he repeats, nodding to himself. “Yeah. You’re right. Because I don’t have anyone,” he admits. “I don’t have siblings like you do. I never met my parents, because they never gave a shit about me enough to keep me in their lives in the first place. Nobody fucking cares at the foster home, because I can’t seem to make meaningful connections with anyone. And you know what, yeah. It’s just so easy for me, because there’s no one here who would give a single flying fuck if I leave, because they don’t even really care if I’m alive or dead.”

“Changmin–”

“Just say it, Y/N. Say nobody cares,” he says, eyes stone cold, an avalanche taking place in your lungs. It’s hard to breathe and your eyes are hazy, fists crawling in themselves as you relish in the catastrophe you’ve caused.

“That’s not what I–”

“And you know what? Maybe you’re right, Y/N. I have nothing to lose, I am not leaving anyone behind, I wouldn’t know how it feels. Call me selfish, for all you like. Call me selfish for wanting something for myself, for wanting to leave this town and start over somewhere new. I don’t care. I’m doing this for myself,” he says, the noise of an approaching car landing in your ears through the sound of his words. “But don’t you fucking dare give up on your future just because you feel guilty. Don’t you dare call yourself selfish when you’re doing everything you can to keep the rest of your family afloat. Don’t call yourself selfish when you’re paying back a loan that isn’t yours and taking care of your sister’s future by doing all of this alone, yeah?”

A hot trail of liquid falls down your cheek as you hear the bus approaching the stop. Taking a shaky breath in, you open your mouth to say something– anything– but no words come out.

“And I know it’s hard for you. I know you’re tired, I know you’re exhausted and I know you’re scared and god do I wish I could make this easier for you, but Y/N, don’t you ever say it’s fun or easy for me, when I’ve been putting everything on line trying to help you. To help us.”

The bus door opens. Like a child that’s being scolded, you refuse to meet his eye. There’s shame flowing through your veins, embarrassment creeping up your neck. It feels like you betrayed him. Like you cut right where it hurts, tried to use everything you had on him against him, hitting all his weak spots– all because you were suddenly too prideful to admit to yourself that you’re scared and wallowing in guilt. It’s hard to bear the weight alone. You wish you could make Changmin feel guilty.

That’s something he won’t understand. It doesn’t make it easier for him, though. He was right– you could never do any of this differently. You could also never do any of this alone.

“And if you still think it’s selfish, then, well,” you hear him sigh, “I think it’s okay to be selfish sometimes. I think it’s fair of you to be selfish right now,” he says, the words both feeling like a hug and a punch to your sternum, leaving you cut open in the empty road.

“I’ll see you on Monday.”

The bus drives off, the boy’s figure peeling itself off your proximity, entering the other side of the town. You sit at the bus stop for a long while after, aggressively wiping your tears away with the back of your palm, embarrassed to cause such a scene. You never meant to fight with him. You never meant to act like a toddler, playing the victim in a situation that you sadly cannot change, in a situation you unfortunately cannot solve in any better way.

Ji Changmin is the only person you can lean on in this situation. You feel bad for using him as your punching bag. You’re deeply flawed to take it out on him.

In the silence of the street, the thought hits you with full force, making your knees weak and your throat dry up like the desert, a dagger straight through your heart as you realize you’re the only person Changmin would be leaving behind.

And after everything you two went through together, he would never do such a thing. Ji Changmin will hold on to you like a lifeline, because you’re everything he’s got– everything he keeps fighting for. He could give up on everything, had you not been on board.

He could never give up on you, though.

Warm sunlight peeks through the windows as you sit in silence side by side, neither of you daring to say anything, as if you were scared to break the atmosphere hanging over the calm library. You and Changmin haven’t talked to each other much the whole day, something in the air remaining tense and strained after your previous argument on Friday, but you still tagged along with him when he asked you if you wanted to do homework with him in the library. This is the first time you see your companion doing any school work at all, so you figure you don’t want to pass out on the revolutionary moment– and also, you still feel kind of bad about your latest interaction. You take the fact that he invited you to spend more time with him as a good sign, though.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you decide to break the bubble and move a little in your place, reaching for something inside of your bag. Changmin promptly ignores your movements, but when a carton of banana milk appears in his vision, he pays you a glance.

You’re too prideful to say sorry with words. You don’t want to mention it and go back to the topic you were discussing, much preferring to let things be the way they were before you had an emotional outburst at the bus stop. While you can’t say you aren’t glad that the words are now out in the open, the two of you are more vulnerable in front of each other than ever, you really don’t think you can handle another argument. Some things are better left unsaid. Ignored. There was mutual understanding over you two anyway– there was no use saying those things out loud.

And when you move the banana milk closer to Changmin’s elbow resting on the table with a push of your pointer finger across the dark-wooden desk, you see his eyes softening. He understands, taking the drink into his hand and tearing the plastic off the straw, sucking in the beverage. Ji Changmin accepted your offering, and somehow, you feel like there was some weight lifted off your shoulders, a force unsqueezing your heart.

“You’re not working on your homework?” he asks, voice hushed in the silent library.

“No,” you shake your head, deciding to lean over the desk and rest your weight on your folded arms, prepping yourself into a comfortable napping position. “I’ll just borrow your notebook before class and copy it.”

“Is this you finally admitting that I’m smarter than you?” he teases, shaking his head at your prompt laziness.

“If that helps you sleep at night,” you shrug.

Changmin snickers at your reply, eyes hovering over you for a few seconds as you get comfortable next to him. He takes another sip of the banana milk before he offers the drink to you, the straw hovering over your lips. Like a baby being fed through a sippy cup, you open your mouth and let him slot the straw between your lips, sucking the liquid in and relishing in the sweetness of the beverage.

You shoot him a smile when the carton is back in its place on the desk, his eyes promptly moving to the monitor in front of him. You don’t really know what he’s working on in the first place, the hoard of assignments mixing up in your brain, but you refuse to let your mind wander over equations or foreign languages now. It’s Monday afternoon, and even though it’s only the first day of the week, you feel like you deserve to rest.

Changmin types something on the keyboard of the library computer, eyebrows furrowing as he focuses on the contents of the screen. You find yourself glued to his motions, watching him from the side, studying the way his expressions change in milliseconds, irises dialing by the second. When he focuses a little too hard on the information his eyes are scanning on the device, he traps his bottom lip in between his teeth, tugging on it. He also has a habit of licking his lips every few seconds, leaving a wet trail glossing over his mouth, making you feel foolish at the examination of that part of his face. Hair is falling into his forehead, black locks messily trimmed and mostly unstyled, oftentimes leaving you eager to brush your hand through the raven strands to tame them into place.

His features have grown familiar to you over the months. He has the face of someone you’ll remember even in a few years. He looks like someone you’d take pictures of in photo booths and tape the strips up in your room. You don’t have any pictures like this, though, and your room isn’t worthy enough of being made prettier with such a photo strip. Maybe in the future, you think. When I live somewhere else.

His voice wakes you up from the slumber, your heart hammering at the interruption. Changmin speaks to you casually, the monotone hum of his voice making you listen attentively to what he has to say.

“Where do we eventually want to settle?” he asks, making you raise your brows at him in question.

“What part of the homework is that?” you joke, watching as the boy’s cheeks tint pink, a dismissive wave of his hand shutting up your teasing.

“I’m already done with that,” he clears his throat, “I’m just… doing research.”

“Research,” you repeat, nodding to yourself. You nuzzle your nose into your hoodie sleeve, thinking for a while as you contemplate your decision. You never really thought of where you’d go. ‘Away’ was always your destination– never specified. You just knew you’d have to leave one day, eventually.

“Busan, maybe?” you hum, laughing to yourself. “I dunno. I always wanted to go to Japan, but I don’t think our funds will reach as far.”

“I don’t really think the language barrier would be ideal either,” he agrees, nodding to himself. “Busan sounds nice.”

“Doesn’t it?” you grin, locking your gaze with his only for a few seconds before he looks back to the computer.

“We could get a little flat somewhere in the middle of the city when we save up enough, eventually,” he says, tone of voice sweet and gentle. There’s something about planning your future with Changmin that leaves you feeling particularly vulnerable and fragile. Not in a bad way, just in a strange type of way. In a way that makes your insides ache and heart tremble. You never thought you’d plan your future with someone.

Ji Changmin never planned his future either. Somehow, he assumed there was nothing good waiting for him after aging out of the system.

The intimacy folded over you two like a blanket makes you panic. “We’re moving in together?” you tease, watching as the boy’s face heats up more, a hesitant shrug of his shoulders acted out to seem casual.

“I think it’s more convenient that way,” he hums, trying to stay logical. “We can split the rent and groceries, and one of us can cook while the other one cleans…” he trails off, scratching the back of his neck. “We are leaving together, so I assumed…”

A dumb smile battles its way onto your lips. “I was just joking,” you assure him, watching as he shies away from your gaze. It’s not an usual reaction from him. Ji Changmin doesn’t really get bashful– at least not with you. You try not to question it for the sake of your own comfort.

Forcing your eyes off his face, you watch as he types something on the keyboard again, attention glued to his digits. Dark bruises paint his knuckles, scratches glazing the backs of his fists. Eyebrows furrowing, you act on instinct as you reach out your hand, stopping him from typing as you take his palm into yours. “Did you get into a fight again?” you ask, thumb absent-mindledly tracing the outlines of the scars.

“Maybe,” he admits light-heartedly, lips pressed into a thin line when your warm hand locks with his, the tender touch of the pads of your thumbs against the open wounds making him shiver. If asked, the boy would blame it on the breeze coming through the window. It’s getting late and the air is colder. That has to be it.

“No getting in fights after this is all over,” you say as you let go. “Wouldn’t want our landlord to kick us out for delinquency.”

Changmin laughs, the absurdity of the situation and your foolish dreams downing on both of you at once. Unaware that even though you were both forced to grow up much faster than other kids your age, you were still childish at heart– as if chasing the time of your life that was forcefully taken out of your hands– older, but still needing to live through that stage, you fold back over the table and force your eyes closed, scoffing at the sentiments.

“Don’t you worry, Y/N,” he laughs, “we’re starting clean. Hell, I’ll even give back to society. We can start volunteering, if it makes you sleep better at night.”

The joke makes you chuckle, warming your heart. It’s nice to think about the future with someone. It’s good to feel like your dreams might be tangible. The future is in your hands, and you will do everything you can to make it worth it.

It’s good to have someone you can lean on.

“Can I help you with that?” Aerin asks you from behind, startling you in the small kitchen space. Turning towards her, you offer her a smile and shake your head, watching as your little sister takes her stance next to your figure, observing your cooking.

When it comes to cooking, you wouldn’t call yourself a professional. A lot of the times, what you end up with isn’t as delicious as you expected it to turn out when you started making it, but at the end of the day, it’s food anyway and you eat it– because throwing it out would be a waste of money and resources, and you have to eat something. There are a few foods that are easy enough that you perfected them, though– and those are ramen, an egg omelet, fried rice, and lastly, the pre-made foods you get at the grocery store that you either just boil or heat up in the microwave.

“No, it’s okay,” you say as you work on one of your master dishes– the one that satisfies everyone, including your little sister: ramen. You can never go wrong with ramen, you think.

“But I wanna learn to cook as well,” your sister insists, crossing her arms on her chest, “I’m not a child anymore, and I have to learn how to look after myself.”

A dry chuckle escapes your throat, shaking your head in disbelief at her mature words. In your eyes, she’s just a child, though– a kid that’s not to be trusted with knives and boiling water, a little girl that isn’t as careful with the utensils as she should be, which can undoubtedly end up with her getting hurt.

“That’s what I’m here for,” you smile, throwing your little sister a caring look. “You just focus on studying and I’ll be there to cook for you so your little stomach is never empty,” you say as you slice the spring onion to add into the noodles boiling on the stove.

Aerin seems to be disappointed with your answer. Her cheeks grow twice as big as they usually are as she pouts, a frown overtaking her features. You take it as your sign to engage your little sister more in the grown-up activities, sighing to yourself as you realize just how fast your little sister has grown. Even though you try to shield her from all the troubles of the adult world, you can’t really prevent her from maturing faster than the other kids her age. Hell, she’s not blind– as much as you’d like her to be. She knows what’s going on. She might not be able to grasp it fully, might not be able to understand everything with her childish brain, but she knows– to a certain level, that is.

Nodding to yourself, you try to put up a smiling face. “Okay, then,” you say, “I’m making ramen.”

Your sister seems to be intrigued with your sudden tutorial, eyes growing big and focused. Something grows impossibly soft and fond in you, watching her scanning the surroundings, trying to find any task to help you out with.

“You can just open the pack and put the noodles in the water to boil, if you want to do it the easy way,” you start, “but if you want to make it more delicious, like I do, you can add some other ingredients in with it.”

“What do you add?” Aerin asks.

“Spring onion,” you hum, pointing to the vegetables you’d been cutting when she approached you, “soy sauce,” you point towards the black bottle on the counter, waiting to be opened and added into the dish cooking on the stove, “and lastly, I crack in an egg.”

“That doesn’t seem hard,” Aerin says, earning herself an amused chuckle out of you.

“It’s not,” you admit, “I’m not a professional chef, or anything, so I keep it simple.”

“Can I do it, then?” she asks, looking at you with big, hopeful eyes. You can’t possibly turn those eyes down. A passing thought emerges in you that she needs this– she needs someone to teach her even the smallest things. She needs you to teach her how to cook ramen, because you know how hard it is when you have no one to show you, when you have to figure out everything on your own.

Nodding, you step aside and put the black bottle of soy sauce into her hand. “You can pour in a little bit. Not too much, though, or else it will be too salty.”

“How much?” she asks, furrowing her brows.

“I’ll tell you when to stop,” you smile, watching as her smaller hand opens the lid of the bottle, positioning the glass above the pot. Black liquid soon drips down, tinting the broth a dark brown color, the spices mixing in and making the ramen instantly twice as delicious as if you’d just thrown it on the stove with the spices that come in the packaging.

“That’s fine,” you say, halting your sister in adding more and over-seasoning your lunch.

“Now the egg?”

“Yeah,” you nod, watched by the focused eyes of your little sister. You take the small sphere you’ve prepared onto the kitchen counter before you started cooking, offering it to Aerin. “Have you ever cracked an egg before?” you ask.

“No.”

“Okay,” you laugh, “so this is your first time. Don’t worry, nobody gets it right the first time. Just crack it on the counter and then open the shell. Be careful not to spill it everywhere, though,” you instruct, watching as your little sister moves with much uncertainty, small hands shaking with the delicate ingredient in her grasp.

The touch of the shell with the counter is almost delicate the first time, as if she was afraid the egg was going to spill everywhere and make a mess on the kitchen counter, but the second time, she’s a little more confident, cracking the egg on the corner. Pure concentration is shown on your sister’s face as she moves the ingredient above the pot, her little fingers having trouble with opening the shell and dropping the egg in. She struggles, nails digging into the light tan, putting in more force than necessary and breaking the shell even further, having the yolk spill all over her fingers, dropping to the pan with a crash.

Aerin gasps in surprise at her own actions, a frown instantly overtaking her features as she notices that the shell fell in, disappointment so evidently running through her veins.

“It’s okay,” you say, petting her arm, “as I said, nobody gets it right the first time. Throw the shell into the bin and wash your hands, I’ll finish this,” you smile, trying to transfer all your feelings of pride into her.

She is growing up right in front of your eyes. It’s a feeling only older siblings can understand– seeing someone transform from a baby to an elementary-school kid, being there for every step of their journey. You’ve known her her whole life. It’s a bond that you never want to break.

But there’s that bugging voice in your mind that keeps telling you to enjoy this, enjoy it while it lasts, enjoy it while you can, because soon, you’ll be gone and you won’t see her take the next steps, you won’t see her grow up. A chill runs down your spine at that, an unsettling feeling making you feel heavy, making you trap your bottom lip between your teeth and gnaw on it in a poor attempt to ground yourself.

Crouching over the boiling pot, you take out a spoon and fish for the cracked shell in the noodles, not really being in favor of getting an upset appendix. Your eyes get hazy, stinging at the corners– maybe you could blame it on the steam.

“You did well, Aerin. You’ll be a better cook than me in no time,” you praise her.

“I have to learn,” she agrees, the sound of the tap turning on as she washes her hands flowing into your ears with her next sentiment. “You won’t be here forever to do everything for me, after all.”

With your back turned to her, pretending to still dig around the noodles for the egg shells you already got out a few seconds ago, you hum. You catch yourself mid-sniffle, quickly wiping your cheek with the back of your hand, turning off the stove– maybe you could blame it on the spring onion. Cutting it always makes you tear up. It’s just the fumes getting in your eyes.

You won’t be there forever to do everything for your little sister. The day that happens is maybe sooner than she’d expect– you can’t tell her, though. You can’t prepare her for your departure.

By bringing this up, though, it’s almost like in the corner of her soul, she knew. It’s almost like she had it all figured out, it’s like she saw right through you. It’s like her own way of telling you not to worry– she’ll be a big girl and take care of herself. She’ll be strong, even when you’re gone.

You won’t be there forever to do everything for your little sister. You really, desperately wish you would, though.

Carisoprodol, sold under the brand name Soma among others, is indicated for the relief of discomfort associated with acute, painful musculoskeletal conditions in adults. Carisoprodol is a white, crystalline powder, having a mild, characteristic odor and a bitter taste. It is slightly soluble in water; freely soluble in alcohol, chloroform, and acetone; and its solubility is practically independent of pH. SOMA should only be used for short periods (up to two or three weeks) because adequate evidence of effectiveness for more prolonged use has not been established.

“What if it kills him?” you ask, chewing on your bottom lip.

“It won’t,” Changmin says, placing his hand over yours, the package of pills resting in your open palm. “Trust me.”

The recommended dose of SOMA is 250 mg to 350 mg three times a day and at bedtime. The recommended maximum duration of SOMA use is up to two or three weeks.

“Where did you even get this?” your eyebrows furrow as you listen to him instruct you on the ways of using it. Your stomach is already burning with acid at the thought of what you’re going to do. It’s what you’re dreading, but it’s also what needs to be done.

“Our caretaker back at the foster home takes them,” he says, shrugging. “So I just borrowed some.”

SOMA has sedative properties and may impair the mental and/or physical abilities required for the performance of potentially hazardous tasks such as driving a motor vehicle or operating machinery. There have been post-marketing reports of motor vehicle accidents associated with the use of SOMA. In some patients, however, and/or early in therapy, carisoprodol can have the full spectrum of sedative side effects and can impair the patient's ability to operate a firearm, motor vehicles, and other machinery of various types, especially when taken with medications containing alcohol, in which case an alternative medication would be considered. The intensity of the side effects of carisoprodol tends to lessen as therapy continues, as is the case with many other drugs. Other side effects include: dizziness, clumsiness, headache, fast heart rate, upset stomach, vomiting and skin rash.

“Just give him two of these. He should be out within an hour.”

A chill runs down your spine. This is nothing close to the occasional stealing at the grocery store or the lying you used to do to get money out of old men that are predatory towards a girl knowing she’s underage. This is twice as morally wrong and twice as dangerous for everyone involved. If you had to draw a line at what you can excuse yourself, you think all of this is far over it.

“If this goes wrong, I’m ratting you out and we’re both going to jail. You hear me?” you say, eyes bearing into Changmin’s.

“That’s the plan, baby,” he grins. “If you go down, I go as well.”

The usual dose of 350 mg is unlikely to engender prominent side effects other than somnolence, and mild to significant euphoria or dysphoria, but the euphoria is generally short-lived due to the fast metabolism of carisoprodol into meprobamate and other metabolites.

You watch the boy from up close, his eyes now blown out and big, blonde hair falling into his forehead in a messy manner– yet he doesn’t find it in him to drag his palm across the strands and push them out of his vision. You’re laying in the bed with him, side by side, staring into each other’s eyes. You watch as the drug slowly takes over him, as the boy in front of you slowly starts slipping into a more and more sleepy state, completely unaware of the fact that you dropped two white, round pills into his drink when he went to the toilet.

Your conscience starts stinging more and more with the passing time. Eric Sohn looks at you like you hung the stars onto the sky, like you made the whole world with just your two hands– and this is what you’re repaying him with. This is what you decided to do, this is what path you chose to take.

Millions of excuses flash through your alert brain. Maybe it’s just your mind trying to rationalize everything, trying to make you feel better about the mess you’re just now going to create– either way, it’s helping only a little bit with the rapid beating of your heart.

You keep telling yourself that it doesn’t matter. That Eric would never understand the life you’re living, that he wouldn’t even want to date you, had he known just how much money your family owes. You keep telling yourself that it’s okay, because he has a lot of money, and it’s not like you’re stealing it all– you’re just stealing the valuables he showed you. And maybe it’s his fault for trusting you. After all, he was the one willingly taking you back to his house when his parents weren’t around. This is his lesson– he should start being less gullible and vulnerable. He should stop hanging out with people like you.

You and him, you don’t belong together. Eric Sohn is supposed to stand by the side of another rich heir, showing her off to his parents. He’s supposed to be proudly going around the town with his newest girlfriend, not hiding with her in the shadows, knowing, sensing that she’s flawed and not like him– not like others.

He’s going to wake up and find out who you are– the reality, not just what you’ve been pretending to be all this time– and he’s going to be disappointed, sure, but he’s going to move on to better things. Because what you’re taking from him is just a fraction of his wealth, just a small part of what he has. He won’t even feel the loss.

But for you, you’re taking everything you can– everything you need.

It’s not like any of this– your relationship– was ever real. You two haven’t even kissed yet. You hang out with him and hold his hand, you listen to him while he talks to you with sparkles in his eyes, but there’s no depth. Surely, he must feel it. Surely, he must know there’s something wrong.

“I love you, Y/N,” he suddenly says, tone of voice hushed, almost not audible in the silence of his room. The sentence is like a knife to your heart, a dagger stabbing you in your back. Something inside of you crumbles, your stomach burning with guilt, hands shaking as you pretend you didn’t hear him. If you ignore it, maybe it’s like it never happened.

It’s the effect of the drug. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. It’s not real– how could it be? He doesn't know you. He doesn’t know who you really are and what you’re about to do. He can’t love you.

Fingers playing with the loose threads of the blanket thrown over the two of you, your eyes avert from his, big and honest, still like water. It takes everything in you not to stay here with him, wait until he’s back from the sedation, and apologize. It takes everything in you not to back out. Every time the weight of your actions becomes too unbearable, the weight of responsibility and your family’s well-being drops onto the other side of the scale, though, and you’re back to square one– this is what you need to do.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he says to you despite not meeting your eye, “you… I know…” he trails off, but doesn’t finish the sentence, as if changing his mind. A dry chuckle leaves his throat at that, words sweet like honey lacing your throat, choking you up with the thickness of them, the richness of his unreturned care. “I just wanted you to know.”

You’re a terrible, terrible human being. The force of your teeth against the side of your cheek suddenly gives out, making you taste iron on your tongue. Promptly ignoring everything he says, focusing on calming down your breathing and the erratic beating of your heart, you wonder if he knows. If he’s aware you’re just playing with him– if he knows you never cared for him in a way he does for you.

Because if he knows, it’s like he’s allowing you to break him. Isn’t that what love is, though? Being vulnerable, offering someone your whole heart, and expecting them to take care of it? Love is cruel in that way. It can take away all of you. It can consume you.

And would he still love you if he knew what you were going to do to him? Is his love unconditional? You chuckle at that. He doesn’t know anything about love.

A while passes, the two of you laying in silence. When you finally battle away the fear and look up at him, you find him asleep. His eyes are closed and his breathing is steady, and when you touch his arm– testing to see if he will wake– you find him unresponsive. This is your cue.

Standing up from his bed and straightening the wrinkles on your clothes, you take a deep breath in and out to calm yourself down. Your hands grasp the backpack you brought with yourself– the bag that was supposed to be filled with clothes so you could sleep over, yet that is now empty, just waiting to be filled– and you walk out of Eric’s room, feet dragging you towards all the empty rooms in the corridor.

The first part of the plan is now in action.

Walking into the master bedroom, dashing to the walk-in closet, you take all the jewelry you can find. The mental calculations of the worth of the chains and golden earrings in your bag are adding up slowly, the digits growing and making a sense of satisfaction flow through your veins. Maybe something rubbed off on you from hanging out around Changmin so much– you get the thrill now. You get the adrenaline. It’s like working for something you want, something you need, and although you know there are other ways, they’re not as fast and effective. The thing is, you need the money now.

Fastly getting through room by room, taking everything valuable you can see with the idea of turning it into profit in a pawn shop somewhere along the way, when everything is settled and you’re on the run, starting your life somewhere new, you find that it gets easier to operate. It’s like you’re working on auto-pilot, the full weight of your actions slowly slipping through your consciousness. You’re only an actor in your life right now, looking at yourself from a third person view– like you’re playing a video game.

Detached from everything, hands now more steady and breathing almost normal, you take the jewelry from the living room as well. A dry chuckle leaves your throat as you eye Eric’s wallet thrown lazily on the shelf by the front door. You never leave your money out in the open and unhidden at home– don’t you know that? Haven’t you learned about the dangers of that yet, Eric Sohn? Oh, what a blissfully unaware life you lead.

Opening it, taking the bank notes into your fingers and folding them into your pocket, you stop as you put your shoes back on at the front door. Looking around the big, empty space, not really allowing yourself to dwell on your actions just yet, you take your phone out of your pocket and before you completely turn the device off, block Eric’s number.

The doorknob is cold in your hands as you open the front door, walking out. It’s like you’re leaving who you once were and who you could’ve been in that big house behind you– it’s like you’re saying goodbye to the life you once led and anxiously awaiting the new one waiting for you behind the corner.

Getting sentimental won’t help you in this situation, though. Being emotional and afraid won’t drag your family out of the depths of loan sharks’ teeth.

And so you walk off the property, mind set on the meeting point you agreed on with Changmin. It’s now or never.

The first part of the plan has been completed. You have something to fall back on when you discard all the money into the loan shark’s hands. Eric Sohn’s wealth is now your safety net.

You meet up with your partner in crime at the corner of the neighborhood. Your backpack gets hidden in the bushes, away from the eyes of everyone, on the route you’re going to take when completing your second part of the plan. The next couple of steps are completed on autopilot.

Flashes of Changmin’s face. A ski mask pulled over his head, a hood pulled over your hair, disposable mask covering your nose. He throws one of his spare black hoodies over your body, leaving you to put your arms through the sleeves and zip the clothing up, the two of you masked to the point of not being recognised even to the eyes of people that know you.

You two make a silent entry to the empty road leading towards the town square. Not much conversation is shared between the two of you because of the adrenaline running through your veins. The stride in your step is consistent and fast-paced, the timing of your plan set to a tight schedule. When you cross the corner, nearing your target, the two of you put on sunglasses and keep your head low. Your heartbeat is so fast you can hear it in your ears, your body responding to the stress with the help of your sympathetic nervous system– breathing growing fast and hands a little sweaty.

Your mind is repeating ‘It’s gonna be okay, It’s gonna be okay, It’s gonna be okay’, a silent plea that constantly gets overthrown by the rational side of your brain. Is it too late to back out now? You don’t know– but at the same time, you recognise that you don’t particularly want to. You’re just scared– you know it. You recognise it.

And it’s okay to do things afraid. It means you have the courage to do them– it means you have what it takes to change the situation you’re in.

Your eyes lock with Changmin’s, his face mostly hidden in a shadow. You can’t really read his expression– it’s dark and his features are covered– but it seems like you two operate on the same frequencies. One nod is all it takes– the world stops for a second before Changmin turns on his heel and moves towards the jewelry store you once worked at, a heavy rock he prepared close to the sidewalk thrown through the door giving you an easy entry to the property.

The alarm goes off instantly. That means you only have about 10 to 15 minutes before the police come and you’re busted.

You have to act quick. Changmin climbs into the store like he owns the place. You have the background information from working there that could very well get you caught quickly, if the police are smart enough to connect the dots in the investigation. The plan you and Changmin have is efficient, fast and smart. You thought about everything– you can’t make a single mistake. The way you move and operate is calculated and thought-out. There’s no way you’re giving yourself to the hands of the police tonight.

While you run to the back and rummage through the manager’s room, looking for the key to the cash register– you know where it’s usually kept, since you closed with her many times before and watched her do all the tasks with innocent eyes, not yet knowing that you’re going to end up using this information for your good one day. When you find it– on the top of the shelf, almost invisible if you hadn’t known that’s where to look for it– you move to the safe in the corner of the room. The sequence of numbers is easy to remember– or at least for you. Your father used to tell you that you’re good with numbers. You’ve grown to hate every quality of yours he ever complimented, but you must admit it’s coming in clutch right now.

Your fingers work on the lock, the junctures of the metal unclasping under your touch. Your hands are still sweaty, but a little more steady now– you notice as you open the door to the safe and take out the rest of the money binded with rubber bands, throwing it into your backpack. You work fast, not really giving yourself an opportunity to mentally count and estimate the amount, but something in your bones is telling you that it should be enough.

Running back to the main store area after you’re done, not bothering to close the safe after yourself, you reach the register to get the last remains of cash from this store. The alarm is still going off, making your ears ring and your stomach churn with acid, but as you get the key in and forcefully take out the drawer, you feel a little calmer at the sight of the bills inside.

From the corner of your eye, you watch Changmin getting out jewelry from each shiny glass vitrine, smashing it with his gloved fist. Countless earrings, watches and necklaces get thrown messily into his bag, expensive metal rising your worth with every passing second.

When the cash is in your bag, you quickly pace around the store and try to help Changmin. As soon as your hand goes to smash the window, though, he takes you by the wrist and shields you from your attempts. Furrowing your brows, you meet eyes with him, wordlessly asking for an explanation. Does he not want your help? Does he want you to fully stick to the plan? But you’re done with your part– the best thing you can do at this moment is help him with his side, no?

Your question is quickly answered when the man keeps tugging on your hand, leading you out of the store. Your feet buckle the tiniest bit when you cross the threshold, but that’s when you hear it– the sirens.

You didn’t notice them over the sound of the alarm and the whooshing of your blood in your ears. You have to leave– they’re close.

Changmin takes the lead, his sneakers making a loud noise against the pavement. You run after him, your pulse quickening with each meter. They could be anywhere, you think. They could stop you right here, on the run. You have to be careful.

The paranoia gets the worst of you, making you constantly check over your shoulder. Pupils shaking, you scan your surroundings– there could be anyone watching you that could tell the police that they saw you on the run. There must be cameras everywhere. You can’t hide. They’re always watching. You’re going to get caught, and you’re going to be sent to juvie. You can’t help your family–

“Y/N,” you hear him call from in front of you, the anxious thoughts vanishing from your brain fast, like the strike of a lightning.

His sunglasses are off, your eyes meeting. Something inside of you comes to a calm, your heart leaping, squeezing on itself. His hand grabs yours, a force dragging you to his level on the pavement. He’s not letting you fall behind, his legs giving the pace as you follow him, left, right, left, right… You’re almost there. You’re almost done.

It gets to the point of the route where Changmin bends down and searches through the bush. Your backpack is quickly found, thrown over his shoulder. He’s carrying both now, one on his back and one on his front, leaving you leaping behind him with a smaller duffel bag on your shoulder. You carry a lot of money with yourself right now. You don’t think you’ve ever seen so much money in one place in your whole entire life.

And then you’re finally there– the police sirens are no longer audible, there are houses all around you and the only thing accompanying the silence are the lampposts and your heavy breathing. Bending over at his waist, Changmin finally lets go of your hand. His fingers grasp the ski mask on his head, tugging it off and letting him finally breathe in the oxygen freely, not restricted by the thick fabric.

Your heart starts to calm down as you take more air into your lungs. Wiping your sweaty hands onto the fabric of your jeans, you unzip the hoodie and fan yourself with your shirt, hating the way it’s sticking to your sweaty skin.

It’s calm. Quiet. Just like any other day. Tonight, it feels a bit strange.

Changmin looks up at you, hair messy sticking up everywhere, his sweaty forehead glistening a little in the moonlight. A heartbeat passes by of you two just staring into each other’s eyes before his lips turn into a lazy grin, the dimple on his cheek showing itself to you in its full glory. It’s a strange situation to smile in, but it still makes your heart leap and thunder, a similar expression taking over your face. Then, he laughs. Like it’s funny. Now, this is getting ridiculous.

Still, you can’t help but mirror him. He must be crazy. Surely, you’re both going insane.

Shaking his head, he straightens his back and takes a step forward to where you’re standing, offering his hand to you for a high-five. When you meet him in the middle, he locks his fingers with you, squeezing your palm with his. “Almost there.”

“Almost there,” you repeat, nodding.

Now, all it takes is to settle the loans and leave. Leave fast, that is.

You take both of the bags into your hands and slowly, quietly enter your house. Changmin doesn’t follow you– he’s on to the second to last part of your plan as you walk up the stairs to your room and lock the door behind you. Unzipping the bags and dropping the money onto the rug in the middle of the floor, your breathing heavy as you prepare to count, you crouch and let your eyes wander for a bit along the notes in the middle of your room.

You’re rich. Only for a moment, though. You try to salvage the feeling the best you can– the satisfaction doesn’t hit your brain, though. You can’t fake it. You can’t make yourself believe a lie.

Pulling yourself together, your fingers slip across the smooth surface of each bill, your brain working fast as you rustle with the cotton. The amount gets added up, the sum growing bigger and bigger, and after each ten thousand, you put a rubber band on the roll and drop it back into one of the bags.

You’re using your school bag to carry the money to settle your family’s debt. There’s something deeply ironic about the sentiment. It almost makes you chuckle.

The light pink backpack gets filled with expensive pieces of paper, each roll lifting the tiniest bit of weight off your shoulders. Only a few more and you have enough, you think– and although you hate to admit it, the remaining sum you see scattered across your floor is less than the amount you expected. It’s okay, though– you know how to live with nothing. You’ll survive. You’ll get through it.

After you’re done counting, you zip up the bag. Shaky hands reach for the last notes on the floor. You take out the envelope you hid under your pillow and put the money inside before you hesitantly drag out the piece of paper you’ve treasured inside, letting your eyes scan over the last words you’re leaving for your sister.

My sweet Aerin.

Don’t look for me. Don’t worry about me. You’re safe now and everything is going to be okay. Take care of mum while I’m gone and make sure to study well so you get into a good university and make your big sister very proud. There are some things you are too young to understand, but I’m sure you’ll get it when you’re older.

Please don’t hate me. I’m always thinking about you. We will meet again one day.

Love, Y/N. :)

P.S.: keep this money safe. Only use it when you really need it.

The corners of your eyes burn, making you blink away the tears. Although your heart wishes for one last hug, one last goodbye, you know you can’t grant yourself the benefit. If you held your sister for a second, you know you’d want to hold her forever– and that’s something you can’t do anymore. Not after what’s done. You can’t look back and keep holding on to something so selfishly– there’s no going back after what you’ve done. You’re a criminal now– a proper one, but you did it all for your family. You hope that one day, at least your sister might understand.

Wiping the stray tear that’s rolled down your cheek, you breathe in to calm your erratic thoughts. Putting the letter back in and sealing the envelope, all while simultaneously gathering all the bags, you walk into your sister’s room and leave the envelope under her pillow.

Her sleeping body is still shorter than yours, but she’s no longer so little. She’s grown so much over the years. The thought of not seeing her grow into an adult pains you, but it’s the price you have to pay for her comfort.

You close the door to her room quietly. You walk down the stairs of a house you can no longer call a home, foot stepping over the threshold of a place you’re never coming back to. You don’t allow yourself to look behind you. You don’t allow yourself to say a proper goodbye.

The jog towards the car parked in your driveway feels like a marathon– you’re slowly running out of breath. You didn’t train hard enough for the responsibilities you’ve taken on your shoulders. It’s like you’re jogging with a bag of rocks on your back.

Changmin opens the door to the passenger’s side for you. The bags are dropped onto the backseat. When he asks you if you’re ready, you don’t look into his eyes when you nod. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach telling you that he’ll see right through your lie– but you can’t waste any more time than you already allowed yourself back in the house.

Changmin twists the car key in the ignition and starts the car. You drive away towards the other side of the city. Your baby pink school bag is dropped at the gate of the expensive-looking house of which you found the address of on one of the contracts somewhere in the middle of planning your escape. You drive away before anyone notices. Somehow, it feels like by leaving the bag there, you’re losing your youth with it. You can never take that backpack back to school with you.

But then again, you’re never going back to school. Somehow, you know you lost your youth before you had a physical reminder. Your shoulders hang heavy even without the weight.

The drive is silent. You try to distract yourself by watching the stars.

When you were little, you promised your sister that you would be by her side forever. She was only 6 when she came home from school crying, telling you that her friends all went out alone without her and talked badly about her behind her back. It took everything in you to not go out of your way to hunt down those little heathens and give them a piece of your mind back then, but you remember it as if it was yesterday, telling your sister that ‘It’s okay, because you will always have me,’ as her big eyes glistened with tears, ‘remember, I’m your best friend forever, okay?’.

You don’t really know if she remembers that day. It was ages ago and she made new friends just two weeks after this whole fiasco, forgetting all about it. It stuck in your brain like a sticker, though, the one that you try to peel off but the residue stays behind, tearing at all edges, getting beaten up and looking rather pathetic– just like your words resonating in your brain, bouncing off the walls of your mind.

You broke the only promise you ever meant.

“You did well,” you hear a voice cut through the silence, the buzzing of the engine not really lullying you to sleep anymore, “you did the best you could.”

Eyes darting to your companion on the driver’s side, you hear yourself let out a soft chuckle. Teeth catching the flesh in your mouth, biting on the inside of your cheek to battle with the tears begging to haze your eyes, you try to focus on his side profile, studying the slope of his nose and the hair falling into his eyes instead, burning this image into your memory. You do everything but think about the events of the night.

Still, you ask. “Do you think she hates me?”

“I don’t think she could ever hate you, Y/N,” he says, voice tender and sincere, trying his hardest to fight the battle with you, to hold you up when you’re falling.

“I think that one day, she will grow up and she will understand. She will get why you did what you did,” he hums, eyes still sternly glued to the road ahead of him, “she will understand that you did it for her.”

Swallowing hard, for you feel like there’s a lump in your throat, you nod and look back outside of the window. This is something you’re going to need more time to get through, but this is a start– this is something. You have someone that understands. You have someone who shares the burden.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

The lampposts blur behind the glass with the speed you’re going at, your surroundings unfamiliar and strange to you. You don’t really know where you are or where you’re heading to– you let Changmin handle that side of the planning, since you don't really care where you’re gonna end up– but the hills and forests cornering the right side of the landscape make you feel strangely at peace. You must be far, far away from Seoul right now. Maybe you’re heading north. You don’t really mind. Maybe you don’t really care.

“How did you even get this car, by the way?” you ask, turning your head back to the boy in the driver’s seat.

“Oh, this?” he snickers, shrugging. “I know a guy. We used to be friends when he lived at the foster home. He aged out of the system like three years ago, but he knows a guy who knows a guy, and he just so coincidentally had this old thing laying around, so I figured we could use it for some time,” he says, nodding to himself.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you wonder just how far connections can take you in the world. It’s not quite as easy as if you were born to a rich businessman, per se, but you’ll take the off-handed nepotism of the underground world, if it makes your life go smoother– just for the time being, at least.

“Do you even have a license?” you ask.

“No,” he shakes his head. “But nobody has to know that–”

“Changmin!” you exclaim, terror shaking with your body.

“You really thought I was allowed to drive a car when you got into the vehicle, Y/N? Come on, I’m a foster kid. Do you really think anyone paid for my license?” he laughs, eyes darting to your figure momentarily, forming moon crescents when he notices the look on your face. “My friend taught me how to drive, though! He got adopted a few months ago, a super rich family– can’t say I’m not jealous, but that’s a story for another time–” he hums casually, as if it’s not a big deal, “and they bought him a car. Anyways, we stayed in contact and he let me try it at this empty parking lot, you know, where the abandoned factory is? And–”

Watching him speak, arms flying around the air making him look like an animated character– going as far as comically noticing that the car is heading to the left by itself when the wheel is unoccupied, quickly taking ahold of it with both hands and trying to make it stay on the road– it’s like a weight is slowly being lifted off your shoulders. It all seems so ridiculous. Insane. Crazy.

A laugh battles out of your throat. Changmin’s eyes meet with yours, a big smile spreading across his face. A dimple appears on his cheek, his essence contagious.

Suddenly, you can do anything in the world. Nobody can stop you. You fought with your future. You changed the trajectory of your life. You helped your mother. You protected your sister.

What’s a few years in hiding?

A foolish thought passes by your brain. You don’t dwell on it much longer, but it’s a nice thing to reflect on when you’re alone in the hostel room late at night, hyper-aware of Changmin’s presence on the other side of the bed– because it’s more expensive to get a room with two beds and it doesn’t matter anyway. You will push it back into the corners of your mind, ignoring it until this moment happens. But it’s there– creeping around, waiting for you to pay attention to it– and it says that as long as you have Changmin, you’re sure you can get on with anything. You can get used to this.

“Aren’t you hungry? There’s some snacks in the compartment over there,” he says, pointing towards it. Magically, your stomach starts to churn– he must have said it into existence. It stinks a lot of black magic, if you really think about it. You knew you should’ve been more careful around him.

Still, your hand reaches for the compartment, opening it. There’s an opened pack of Lay’s chips, a bottle of soda, a wrapped sandwich, and a small chocolate bar, wrapped in red packaging, smiling at you brightly from the darkness of the car. It’s looking at you with big heart-eyes, your favorite flavor of them all– peanut butter covered with tasty milk chocolate, a heaven on Earth– and then reality hits you like a truck again, your eyes burning with the realization.

Fingers wrapping around the treat, you study the packaging for a while– as if you weren’t familiar with it already, having the chocolate bar on days where you really felt like you deserved it, on days where you really felt like you earned it.

When you look up, you see Changmin altering his point of view between the road and your face, a bashful smile playing with his features. “Bought it for you this time,” he notes, “as a new start.”

A sniffle. Your hands shake a little, your lungs betray you with the intake of oxygen.

“No, you’re not gonna cry on me now,” he panics, shaking his head, “no, no, no. Open the chocolate and eat it, you moron, we don’t have time to be sentimental–” he grunts, although his intentions are too clear even without words– the silent support still makes your weak heart squeeze on itself.

You laugh, unwrapping the chocolate and taking a bite. Somehow, you manage to let out:

“You remembered.”

“Of course,” he hums, “how could I forget, I mean, you had a whole hour-long dilemma about it back at the gas station–”

“Shut up, you’re ruining it,” you grunt, tearing a piece of the chocolate bar and holding it up in front of his lips, “I’ll share it with you this one time just to make you shut up,” you say, shaking your head.

The boy takes a hold of your wrist to steady it, taking the sweetness into his mouth. He stays silent for a bit as he chews on it, but his fingers still stay wrapped around your skin as he moves your hand away from his face, resting it on your thigh. Warmth covers the back of your palm as he rests his own on it, his digits intertwining with yours. When he squeezes your fist in tender reassurance, you feel your heart skip a beat.

Orange hues appear behind your window as you drive off the highway. The land is still sprouse with buildings, but you enjoy watching the sun slowly waltz onto the sky, greeting you into the new day. Watching the side of his face as he focuses on parking in front of a lone diner in the middle of nowhere, you finally get in tune with the fact that Ji Changmin’s everything you have right now– everyone you can lean on and fall back on.

Maybe it’s been that way for a while now, but it only downs on you when you’re essentially on the same level now, no illusions playing with your mind– nobody’s son and nobody’s daughter.

“Breakfast!” he exclaims as he turns the engine off, seemingly impressed with his parking skills. When you get out of the car and he marches up to you, putting a cap onto your head and tugging it low to cover your face, ‘just in case’, tugging you by your hand into the diner, you can’t help but wonder– if anyone unsuspecting saw you right now,

would you look like lovers, or partners in crime?