#and at the end of it one of her friends (who i had JUST met like an hour ago) bought me a drink
Text
CINNAMON GIRL ୨୧ (part i)
♡: when nobody suspects, you deliberately try to offer hints of the truth – aka. you & charles slowly launch your relationship when everybody is convinced you’re untouched.
notes: charles leclerc/singer reader, secret relationship, releasing & soft (?) launching, engagement, i’ve used song & album names from other artists here !
– based on this request ☁️
type: smau ・ face claim: madison beer ᥫ᭡
part ii: here !
a/n: my first smau on this blog </3 honestly not as proud of this one bc i had difficulty trying not to make it too long or awkward but i adore any excuse to look for pretty pics on pinterest, ily all
liked by honeymoon, franciscagomes and 555,116 others
yourusername: “there’s things i wanna say to you, but i’ll just let you live.” cinnamon girl out now ! i had so so much fun producing this song, love from me to you all <3
6,325 comments
user1: will be listening to this song on repeat for the rest of the year now
user2: literally obsessed 🫶🏼
friendusername: you deserve the world
yourusername: i <3 you
user3: can’t wait for your lover era one day, the songs will be lushhh
user4: girl, y/n already produces perfect music & lyricism without a man in her life, she’s doing just fine on her own
3,698 likes
newsofy/n: in a recent interview following the release of her new single ‘cinnamon girl’, y/n said “I am always inspired by those around me […] the support of my friends, family are the foundations of my work, every lyric and song is so personal to me – from experiences or those so dear to my heart…”
913 comments
user1: she is such a sweetheart, we must protect her.
user2: did anybody else notice that smile when the interviewer asked if she has any romantic ‘muses’ or inspiration?
user3: you’re taking it out of context, i’m pretty certain y/n is still as single as all of us </3
user2: ouch true, but you never know
user4: oh to be the muse of one of yourusername’s songs
liked by friendusername and 7,171 others
f1gossip: the monaco grand prix annually attracts all kinds of faces from the glitz & glamour, this year including the music industry’s sweetheart yourusername who had claimed she wanted to “return” to the place she has always adored, in person.
1,311 comments
user1: I wonder who she’s supporting 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
user2: probably charles leclerc, like every single girl who breathes.
user1: be quiet, I wouldn’t blame her anyway
user3: she looks like an angelll, paddock princess here she comes
user4: omg, didn’t she mention once in an interview that her father’s a lover of f1 too?
user5: I think I saw some old pics of her when she was like five with him at the belgian grand prix
user1: my two favourite people ever have MET EACH OTHER? crying inside currently
user2: they would make the most iconic couple
user3: girl bffr, they have just met
user2: let me be delulu, okay?
user4: no he has heart eyes
liked by friendusername, charlesleclerc and 591,132 others
yourusername: monaco, you were a blessing this weekend and i can’t wait to see you again soon, je t’aime <3
5,139 comments
user1: please, please, please come next year too, the paddock needs your fashion sense
user2: not charles lurking in the likes haha
user3: she’s got him interesteddd
user4: y/n and f1 was honestly the collab i never knew that i needed
user5: soon? what other business do you have in monaco?
liked by friendusername and 5,396 others
f1gossip: in a recent interview, when asked, charles leclerc revealed that he has listened to yourusername’s recent single ‘cinnamon girl’: “i’ve heard it a few times on the radio or shuffle, i think whoever is on the receiving end of her love songs now or in the future will be a lucky man, for sure.”
1,111 comments
user1: he’s definitely in love
user2: they’ve literally met once
user1: okay? i’ve never met him and i’m in love with him. anyway, we don’t know what they do away from the cameras and stuff
user3: he knows something we don’t.
user4: y/n’s friends are alwaysss on the gossip and i love it, they probably tell her all about it lol
liked by friendusername, pierregasly and 539,333 others
yourusername: from a secret admirer xoxo
5,692 comments
franciscagomes: finally?
yourusername: don’t pretend this is the first time
user1: y/n what does this meannnn?
user2: do you finally have some chance in your love life?
user3: that sounds so backhanded help
user4: whoever they are, i hope they treat you well y/n <3 our angel
♡ ✧ 。*・.
a/n: this feels a little rushed and awkward but i loved doing it nonetheless with my fun, little aesthetic </3 i’ve decided to divide it into two parts simply because it was getting long lol.
part ii: here <3
#୨୧ my works#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 smau#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fluff#formula one imagine
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Note
This kinda inspired by one of your enemies to lovers stories where eddie says “you wouldn’t be able to handle me” but reader instead says “oh yeah i couldn’t handle the two-centimeter-pussy-defeater bc id because i would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch.”
Sorry i have been holding that one in for quite some time 😤
Beg for it
enemies to lovers - one bed trope - eddie munson x fem!reader
warnings: SMUT +18, piv, oral ( f & m), choking, degradation, unprotected sex (don't do this, this is fiction), porn with plot, fluffy at the end.
a/n: thank you requesting babe, hope you love it!
5.7k words
“Game night at my place, the whole group will be there” Steve announces after greeting you. You went to visit him and Robin since you were already near the place. Also, maybe you could find a movie to watch tonight.
“Ugh, really? They all said yes already?” you ask.
“If you’re expecting me to say that Munson hasn’t, then I have bad news” he confirms.
“Fuck”
“You’re not even trying to be friends at this point” he complains.
“It’s impossible with him being so mean all the time” you tried to defend yourself but Robin was quick to refute your statement.
“You sure are mean to him as well, don’t act so innocent”
“Well, he started it! I didn’t even know him and he started with the jokes and asshole comments” you weren’t lying.
You were new in town, and new at the summer job your dad had found for you. He wanted you to already have some experience at working so you could make a better curriculum later. There was were you met Nancy and instantly became good friends. So much so that she had introduced you to her friend group she has had for years already. Steve, Nance, Jonathan, Robin and Eddie. The former four had been sweethearts to you since you first met them, easily becoming good friends as well. The problem was with the latter. The night Nancy had introduced you to everyone, he started being a little distant and cold towards you. You tried not to feel offended since he could just be shy or introverted, but then he started throwing snide comments and sarcastic mocking your way. You were not going to sit there and take that, so you equally threw cutting remarks at him.
That’s how the current war with him started. And that’s why your friends keep insisting with this forced proximity, so we could all be a happy family.
But it was useless, you and Eddie do agree on that.
The game night arrived that Friday. You were at the Harrington household with several board games awaiting on the table. Battleship, Clue, Guess Who, Monopoly, Scrabble, you name it.
“We wanted to make different groups and play all of these, then see which team is the best” Robin explains. “Steve and me will be team one” she says as she writes that in the whiteboard. They really went all out, since we could all be pretty competitive.
“Group two!” Jonathan exclaims quickly grabbing Nancy’s hand.
“Wait… no, definitely not” You start complaining after realizing that would mean you’re stuck with Eddie.
“No way! I’m not teaming up with her, she’ll make us lose at everything” he complains as well.
“I will? I think the actual loser here it’s you”
“Oh, am I now-?” The metal-head starts responding when Steve steps in, cutting him off.
“Okay! Stop yelling, we’re not even playing yet! The teams have been chosen, try and be faster next time”
“We’ll start with Guess Who” Robin announces.
As the game progressed, the bickering continued.
"Does your person have brown hair?" Eddie asks Nancy and Jonathan, who nod.
You reach over to flip down the characters with blond or red hair "See, this is why we should’ve picked someone with a hat, it's less obvious"
Eddie rolled his eyes "Oh, please. Like your guess was any better. We’re losing here!” Eddie complains.
"Only if you keep making terrible guesses" you shoot back.
"Does your person have a hat?" you ask the other team.
"No" Jess replied.
"Still think the hat was a good idea?" Eddie raised an eyebrow at you.
"It was strategic" you huff, flipping down the characters with hats.
After playing most of the board games you had, you were tied with the second group, Steve and Robin had already lost.
“Last but not least, to decide the winner of this evening, I present… battleship” Robin announces once more.
"You sure you can keep up with this game? It requires more than just a pretty face" Eddie asks you.
"Don’t worry, I have enough brains to make up for your lack of them" you respond.
“Quit it, start playing” Steve orders.
"Let's just get this over with" you roll your eyes.
They set up the Battleship boards, each team carefully arranging their ships. Eddie and you hunched over the board, whispering fiercely.
"Put the battleship here" he insist, pointing to the top left corner.
"No, it’s too obvious. Let’s hide it in the middle"
"Fine, but when they hit it right away don’t blame me" he groans.
As the game progressed, your bickering intensified.
"B6" Jonathan called out.
You glance at the board and softly nod your head "Hit"
Eddie leans closer, his voice a teasing whisper, "I told you the corner was better"
"Just focus"
When it was your turn, Eddie called out "G4"
Nancy checks their board, "Miss"
You smirk "Looks like your guess wasn’t so great either"
Eddie rolls his eyes "Just wait"
A few rounds later, it was your turn again.
"E5" Eddie calls out.
"Miss" Nancy announces.
"I told you they wouldn’t put it there" you huff.
"Like you’ve done any better"
"How about C3?" you roll your eyes.
"Fine, C3" Eddie sighs.
"Hit" Jonathan says between his teeth.
"See? I told you" you smirk.
"Don’t get cocky, princess"
The tension built as the game neared its end, each team with only one ship left.
"Last shot, let's go with G3" Eddie says
You nod.
"You sunk our battleship" Jonathan confirms after a long sigh.
“YES!”
“COME ONN” both you and Eddie shout in excitement and before even thinking about it you hug tightly.
Robin and Steve watch the scene with wide eyes and smirks on their faces.
And the second your bodies touch each other you realize what you’re actually doing. The hug only lasts few seconds before you both back away awkwardly.
“See? You actually do make a pretty good team” Robin comments.
“Only because I took the last shot” Eddie says.
“Oh please, if it were up to you we’d still be guessing corners” you reply.
"And if it were up to you, we'd be stuck in the middle forever”
Your friends roll their eyes as the bickering continued. And as you act indifferent, you try not think about how you had to stand on the tip of your toes to wrap your arms around his neck, or how soft his hair had felt touching your skin.
His frizzy and chaotic hair. But so curly and soft.
--
Couple of weeks after that night had passed, you hung out with the guys almost every weekend. You favorite nights were the ones Eddie was busy and couldn’t make it. Like tonight.
“Pass the salt, please” Nancy asks Robin. You all went out to have dinner together. Not all actually, Jonathan was too busy as well, him you did miss.
“It’s like we’re having a girl’s night!” you say excitedly and both girls laugh as well.
“No, you’re not about to count me in as a girl” He complains.
“Oh please, you have better hair than me!” Robin comments and he rolls his eyes.
“I’m just teasing, jeez! Someone has their panties in a twist!” you joke.
“Are you on your period or something?” Nancy joins in sarcastically.
“Alright, not even funny” Steve interrupts. “Let's focus. I think we should keep planning the trip, even though we’re not all here tonight”
“Don’t even mention it. I miss Jonathan so much, he’s been so busy lately. I think he really needs a break” Nancy complains and Robin agrees with her.
“I know, it’s really noticeable when Eddie’s not here either”
“Oh yeah, he’s the one I miss. His irritating voice and loud comments. His annoying essence it’s what’s missing here!” you joke but they don’t find it funny.
“We’ve been through this, you’re gonna have to learn to like each other”
“Sure sure, so… the trip?” you change the topic acting foolish.
“Yeah, I liked the hiking option. We always go to the lake every summer, we should change it up” Nancy votes. You’ve never went to any lake with them since this is the first year you’re joining them. But they had told some stories about this hidden lake they usually go to in summer.
“I think so too, plus we should do something different since we have a new integrant” Steve comments smiling at you. Robin and you also agree to go with that option.
The guys make sure of telling the rest everything you have agreed on that night. You’ve settled on where to go hiking and the cabin that would be waiting for you at night.
A few weeks later you're all set to go.
The trip to get there was...
Steve and Jonathan took turns driving. "You must be a really shitty driver if no one here trusts you behind the wheel" you notice and tell Eddie.
"I'm not a bad driver, princess. Maybe we could go for a drive sometime and you could judge for yourself! We'll call it a date" Eddie teases you the way he knows will shut you up, it always worked. As soon as he started flirting with you, it was like you got shy all of the sudden. Replying with some nonsense that would make Eddie laugh harder because he knew he had won.
"I'd rather get eaten by a shark" you respond ignoring the nervousness that ran through your body.
"Alright, we still have a few hours ahead of us, and I'm not gonna make them with you two bickering the whole way there. So calm down" Steve —or actually, mom Steve— told you off.
Once you got to the cabin, you parked the car, settled everything down, ate something and got ready for today's hiking exercise.
Eddie was never a big fan of sports, so he knew that after an hour or so of hiking —no matter how slow they were walking or how much water he was drinking— he would just start to stay a little behind. Not a lot, but definitely the last on the row.
Also, he started to get bored. Eddie was chatting with Jonathan, but he started to take pictures of every little plant or flower he saw, and the higher you got, the more pictures of the view he wanted to take.
So Eddie started to walk in silence, taking notice of other little things, like the fact that you and Steve look pretty close and pretty giggly with each other since you started hiking. But not only that, obviously, it's not like he's jealous or anything. For him to be jealous he would have to like you in the first place, and there was no way Eddie wants you.
You're the obvious person to like; everyone in Hawkins is already smitten with you. Every guy has a crush on you because you're undeniably beautiful. He knew from the first moment he saw you that you'd never go for a guy like him. So, to keep himself from showing any sign that he wanted you, he did the opposite —he started to hate you.
So he is definitely not jealous. He was only noticing that like he noticed the colourful rocks that he walked by, or the clouds in the sky, or the way those shorts hug your body so nicely.
But he keeps hearing your laughter every ten seconds. Was Steve really being that funny, or you were acting all giggly for him? Did you like Steve? It certainly seems like you do.
You, however, were having so much fun. In the middle of a funny story Steve was telling you about some guy who tried to flirt with Robin at work and the look on her face not knowing how to tell him she didn’t like him —or well, any men for that matter.
The forest path was rugged, but you welcomed the challenge at first, feeling the cool morning air on your skin. However, after a while, your legs began to protest, your breath came in shorter gasps. It was hard to keep up with Steve. Swimmer and football player Steve. So you had to slow down a little, now walking alongside Eddie.
“What’s the matter, princess? Can’t keep up?” he teases with a mocking tone.
“You literally got behind sooner than me” you answer, shaking your head. “If anyone’s slow here, it’s you”
“But it looks like we're both walking together now, so who's really winning?” Eddie chuckles, unfazed by your sharp reply as his eyes twinkle with amusement.
You decide to ignore him. How foolish of you to think that he would accept that silence.
“So what’s the deal between you and Steve? You looked pretty cozy back there. You’re not very subtle, you know”
“There’s no deal with Steve, we were just talking” you roll your eyes, irritation flaring up.
"Right, just talking" he says, his tone dripping with scepticism. "You’re so obvious, it's almost painful to watch"
“Why don’t you stop jumping to conclusions and mind your own business”
“Ohh, is the princess mad at me now? I’m so scared!” he grins, clearly pleased with himself.
“You’re impossible” you say almost to yourself.
You kept walking for a few more hours, taking occasional breaks to catch your breath and sip some water. The trail seemed endless, but the beauty of the forest made it worth the effort.
As you trudged along, you noticed the sky darkening. Grey clouds, rolling in with alarming speed. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves more aggressively.
A man in uniform hurrying down the trail called you out. "Hey, you guys need to find shelter! A big storm is coming in fast. There's no way you'll make it back down in time"
Panic start to appear in all of your eyes.
“Wait? Seriously?” Nancy asks.
“Yes! There’s a motel that’s a few minutes away, to your left” the guy informs you. “I don’t know how much room they have left, cause I’ve been sending some people there already. But you should go now”
Finally after quickening your pace, you spot the outline of a motel nestled among the trees. You hurry towards it. As you approach, you see the motel was old but resistant.
You reach the door and push it open, stumbling inside just as the storm unleashed its full fury. Inside, it was dim and musty, but at least it was dry.
“Hello, uh, we need room for six, please” Nancy is the first one to get to the register and talk to the old woman who was reading a newspaper as if she hadn’t heard you coming in.
“$70 the night” she answers without even looking up at you.
“Uhh… okay, we’ll take it” Nancy says and as you all reach for you wallets, the woman gives you three keys.
“There’s only three rooms left, two with queen beds and one with two separate single beds” she speaks again, as slowly as she can apparently.
“SEPARATE BED” Robin shouts fast.
“ME TOO” Steve is quickly to join her on calling dibs for that room. Not wanting to share a bed.
“Wait! No!” you complain. “Why would you get it just cause you screamed?”
“We called dibs, sorry sweetie” Robin explains.
“But that’s not fair, we should have discussed it!” Eddie joins in.
“Too late” Steve says handing the money to the woman and taking the key of their room.
“Come on guys, maybe they have a couch” Jonathan tries to make you feel better as he also pays and picks a key to their room.
“Are you actually making us share a bed?!” you ask them offended.
“Maybe it’ll help you become friends!” Robin tells you.
After paying and grabbing that stupid key, you all go to your rooms. As you walk in you notice that, in fact, there is no couch.
“Fuck” Eddie complains once again. “I’ll take the floor, let’s just find some blankets that I can sleep on”
And you turn that room upside down trying to find some. But the only blanket in the room is the –only– one on the bed.
“There’s nothing here!” you sit on the bed admitting defeat. “We’re both gonna have to sleep on the bed. I’m gonna freeze without a blanket and you can’t sleep on the bare floor, you’d freeze too”
“If you wanted to sleep with me, you could’ve just said so” Eddie jokes.
“Not now, Munson! Really not in the mood!”
After each getting ready for bed, you start building a wall of pillows in the middle. Separating his part of the bed from yours.
“I bet you wouldn’t make Steve have a wall of pillows” he mumbles, but you’re able to hear him nonetheless.
“Did you not listen when I said not now?!”
“See, that’s the problem with you. You think you can just walk in here acting like you own the fucking place. Newsflash, princess, not everyone is going to fall at your feet following your little orders!” Eddie gets mad for real this time, but so are you.
“I’m so sorry for trying to make this less uncomfortable! Actually, if you want I’ll even cuddle you while we sleep!”
“Shut up” Eddie rolls his eyes.
“No really, we should even make out before sleeping while we’re at it! Maybe that’ll prove to you that I don’t fucking like Steve”
“Yeah, you wish” Eddie comments.
“Actually, I think you wish. Giving that you’re always trying to flirt with me when we argue and giving how jealous you seem to be about Steve” you notice.
“I’m not fucking jealous. And you’re the one suggesting to fucking make out!”
“See, I think you do want to. You’re just too much of a pussy to even admit it” you whisper close to his face.
“Oh my God, princess!” Eddie starts laughing arrogantly. “You wouldn’t even be able to handle me”
“Oh yeah, you’re right! I could not handle your two centimetres because I would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch” you respond at his face.
But he doesn’t say anything back. He just looks at you. His jaw clenching, eyes darkening, breath heaving.
Before you can react, he closes the distance in one swift, aggressive movement. Gripping your arms tightly, he kissed you fiercely and angrily, his lips bruising against yours, as if trying to channel all the pent-up emotions into that kiss.
To say that you're shocked would be an understatement. But you did kiss him back. How could you not? With all the ardor and sentiment that he was putting into that kiss?
That fucking kiss.
After he felt your lips moving along with his in a dance, he let all the anger go. The kiss became passionate and intense instead of angry. Like you were finally letting go. Stopped overthinking and finally giving in.
You didn't need to talk. You didn't want to. Instead, you put one hand on his haw and the other on his hair, feeling it in between your fingers, bringing him even closer.
He sighs, holding a grunt as he feels you play with his hair. His hands move lower to your hips, feeling the upper part of your body in the process.
A fight for dominance is held up between you two. He bites your lip harshly, and you let out a little gasp that allows him to win. He's playing dirty. You're not surprised.
He starts to push you down slowly, so you're lying on the bed with him on top of you.
Your hands travel lower as well as you feel his back. You wonder if he has any tattoos there as well.
He dares to leave your lips alone as he lowers his kisses to your jaw and then your neck. He kisses and bites and licks all over your neck. You can bet that he is leaving marks as purple as a grape.
It turns you both on even more.
Eddie feels like he's flying. He's even touching the clouds. Marking you all up is only an image that haunts him in his fantasies. Like when he can't sleep, or is in the shower, or after fighting with you all evening and you're looking so beautiful and you're being such a brat. That's when he imagines leaving you all bruised out. But he's actually doing it right now, and he's going feral.
You start to feel like you're too dressed. His hands go under your shirt, and he starts to pull it up. You pull your arms up as well so he can take it off. His kisses keep traveling lower on your body. Your chest, your shoulders, the top of your breasts. He stops there. Making out with one of your nipples over the lace of your bra while pinching the other. You start moaning, your hips move searching friction on your core, and he lowers his hips so you can start dry humping him.
You feel his smirk against your sensitive skin as well as his hard on against your centre. Mocking your desperation. You're not surprised.
He moves up, meeting face to face once again. "So desperate for me, aren't you princess?" he whispers so closely to you face you can feel his lips moving and his evil smile too.
He watches you breath hard and your legs trying to close searching for that friction in between once more.
"Ask me nicely and I'll take care of you" he proposes and you roll your eyes.
You can't. You won't.
"Beg for it, princess" he tries again. "Let me hear you"
You shake your head. You're playing difficult, but Eddie likes a challenge.
"No? You're not gonna beg for me? Alright princess, you know what I'm gonna do?" he pauses to think. "I'm gonna make you cum so fast on my tongue you'll be embarrassed, and then you'll know how much of a desperate slut you can be for me"
You want to laugh and tell him off, but you are so intrigued by his confidence at the same time. You settle for a defiant look thrown at him, he catches it and smirks again. Something tells you you'll be seeing that smirk quite a lot tonight.
He unhooks your bra and throws it somewhere in the room, he squeezes your tits and caresses your nipples making a mental note to keep playing with them later. His hands travel down to your pants which are the next item being thrown away inside the room.
He takes a second to admire the view of you only on those white panties and he feels his cock jump. He proceeds to take your underwear off too, but this item is put inside his back pocket.
He puts your legs over his shoulders and lowers to be closer to your pussy. He bites his lip admiring how fucking pretty and perfect it looks. He wastes no more time and dives in.
He licks it and kisses it and sucks on it drunk on your taste. He fucking makes out with your clit and has you meowing and arching back like a damn cat.
His hands grab your thighs so hard he's probably leaving marks there too. He sighs and hums and laughs against your pussy hearing your pretty moans.
He looks up at you as you look down at him and you both feel like you could just cum at the sight alone. Your cheeks blushed, eyes watery, hair a mess, lips swollen and little moans are still coming out of them. He looks up at you while still sucking on your clit so fucking good. His eyes are covered by his bangs so you reach to move them to the side. His puppy eyes look straight at you, his hair is also a mess, and his hands are gripping you with so much force his skin as well as yours becomes whiter. And his rings feel cold and addictive against you.
You try to fight your orgasm but looking at him makes it impossible. It hits all throughout your body so good that you cry out his name as you pull on his hair.
As you catch your breath, he sits up and washes all your wetness off his face with the back of his hand, all that with a big smirk on so proud of himself.
"Still doubting me?"
You grunt, annoyed, and bring him closer. You pull his shirt over his head and take a second to admire his bare chest and arms covered in tattoos. You unbutton and unzip his pants. He's just watching you act so desperate for him to undress, enjoying every second of it like the cocky motherfucker he can be.
"Need help?" he whispers on your ear, and you nod with a pout. He stands up and takes his pants of slowly.
"These too?" he asks, signalling his boxers. You nod as you feel even hotter paying attention to the big tent he has on them.
He puts them down too, standing up proudly as you look at his big cock. "Half inch you said?" he teases you, and you look up at him as if telling him to shut the fuck up.
You sit up facing his dick. You grab it gently as you keep looking at it. How is it so... pretty? How the fuck does Eddie manages to be pretty everywhere. Even what you thought could not be pretty. He manages to make it look beautiful.
A mischievous thought crosses your mind. And you start leaving some kisses on the tip. Even a lick here and there.
He gasps unexpectedly. You put the tip in your mouth, moving your tongue around it. He lets out a little moan. You look up at him, he's already looking at you. And you proceed to slowly put all of it in your mouth while maintaining eye contact. His tip touches your throat, and you have to fight a gag. You still have a full fist grabbing the rest that didn't fit your mouth. He moans again at your little show. You close your eyes and start moving your head up and down. Eddie moans louder this time, and hands stop your movements.
"As much as I enjoy this, princess, and I really fucking am" he lets you know. "I want to cum once I'm inside of your perfect little pussy, can I?"
You take him out of your mouth with a 'pop' at the end and look at him defiantly once again. "Beg for it" you challenge him feeling proud of yourself.
He laughs. "Are you seriously telling me to beg for it while you're still practically on your knees for me?"
You won't let him win this one, so you lay back again resting on your elbows. "Beg for it"
He takes a big breath in ogling over all of your body on display for him and only him. He'll let you win this one because his dick is throbbing at the sight before him.
His hands travel up your legs and your hips to your waist. "Please, princess" he says once his face is closer to yours.
"Please, let me fuck you so good" he starts humping his dick against your pussy which makes you both gasp.
"Please, please, please" he kisses your cheek to sugar-coat you.
"Eddieee" you move your pelvis up and down against him. "Do it, put it in"
And he wastes no time to do so. Pushing his tip inside and you both gasp. He bites his lip and thrusts to enter you completely.
"Oh, fuck" your head is thrown back and you lay back down. He feels so big and so fucking good in you.
"Mhh, fuck princess" he lowers his body to be chest to chest with you. "You feel so good baby, so tight around me"
You have to bite your tongue to stop you from moaning his name, you can't keep inflating his ego.
"Don't get all quiet now. You're always talking and the one time I wanna hear you..." he teases you.
"Earn it" you manage to get out. It's ironic how your lips are almost bleeding from how hard you're biting on them to stop you from moaning as hard as you want to, but you still tell him to fuck you better.
Eddie knows what you're doing, but he likes playing with you too. So he accepts the challenge.
He gets up on his knees against the bed and takes your legs to pull you closer to him. You instantly wrap them around his hips. He wraps a hand around your throat and he looks like he's about to say something, but instead, he enters you again. A moan escapes from your mouth instantly, and you see his big smirk back.
He starts a hard and fast pace with his thrusts as you hear his sighs against your ear. You can't help the whines and moans that escape you now. Your hands go to his back scratching him, and pulling at his hair, but it only makes him moan harder.
He lowers his head to your breasts once again and keeps kissing them as he fucks you. You arch back again, because you can feel him everywhere. And he feels so so good.
He feels you clench around his dick and he thinks he could just cum right now. So he starts playing with your clit with his fingers.
"Eddiee... 'm so closee" you whine pulling him somehow even closer.
"Yeah? You are?" you nod desperately. "Beg for it" he whispers and smirks right after saying it.
You roll your eyes but it doesn't take much to convince you this time.
"Please, Eddie," he was about to tell you that you can do better, but beat him to it. "Please baby, you feel so good inside of me, so big. Eddie, please"
Eddie has to stop himself from cuming -which he almost does. "Cum for me, baby"
And you do. Your orgasm hits even harder than the first one. You gasp and whine without even thinking about it.
Few seconds after that, Eddie can't take it anymore. He feels you clench even harder while you cum and it becomes too much. So he lets go too while moaning your name against your skin.
You take a few seconds to catch your breaths when you feel Eddie pull out —and after admiring how his cum drips out of your pussy— he gets up, puts on his boxers and goes to the bathroom, only to come back with a wet towel to clean you up. To say he surprised you again was an understatement. Who would have thought he would be so careful?
After you go to the bathroom as well —with wobbly legs Eddie smirks about— and change into some comfy clothes, you both lay down. No wall pillow this time. And are quick to fall asleep after all the exercise you did today.
The next morning wasn’t so sweet. Loud knocking on your bedroom’s door accompanied a loud Robin telling you to get up already.
Waking up all curled up with him was bound to happen. But if someone would have told you yesterday morning that today you would be waking up with Eddie Munson spooning you, you would have laughed at their face.
But here you are, and to be honest, it had been a while since you slept so peacefully.
You feel him groaning against the skin of your shoulder, holding you tighter.
You slowly opened your eyes to accustom to the light.
“Did you end up killing each other last night?! Answer me!” Robin shouts again from the other side of the door.
“Certainly feels like it” Eddie murmurs and laughs at his own joke.
“We’re awake! Calm down!” you let her know.
“We have to leave so then we can breakfast, so hurry up!” she lets you know.
You get up and start tiding up. Eddie is slower, he sits on the bed barely opening one eye to look at you and smiles. “Good morning, princess”
You look at him and a little smirk escapes from your lips. “Hey” you greet him shyly.
You both start changing to get down and tidy everything down. After you both brush your teeth, you go to pick up your backpack but he stops you to pull you in close to him.
“Good morning” he says again with his face close to yours while he pulls a strand of your hair behind your ear. Then he proceeds to kiss you, sweetly this time. Which warms your heart. You kiss him back playing with his hair once again.
“Hi, Munson” you say sweetly against his lips.
“You look beautiful in the morning” he admits but before you can even react, the knocking on your door is back.
“Okay! Okay! We’re coming!” Eddie stops them. “Jesus”
After getting down, you were waiting for them to explain where you would be having breakfast but as soon as they see you they start looking at you funny.
“What?” Eddie asks being as confused as you but they all start laughing.
“What is going on?” you ask again.
“Are we just gonna pretend like nothing happened?” Jonathan asks now.
“Yeah, were you gonna act like you still hate each other today?” Steve teases.
And you understand all the laughter. You and Eddie look at each other surprised and apparently this is also very funny because they start laughing again.
“Oh fuuuck” Jonathan starts mocking the way Eddie sounded last night also acting like moaning your name.
“Oh Eddie, so close!” Steve joins him acting like you.
Your face is as red as a tomato right now and you feel like you could just die, it would be better than taking whatever this is. You hide your face in Eddie’s shoulder after he just rolls his eyes fighting another smirk.
He laughs at you, put stills hugs you.
“You wanted us to like each other…” He defends you two.
“Yeah, apparently you took that very literal” Robin teases after catching her breath.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#enemies to lovers
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Electric Touch
Part 1 - What Would You Do If I Went To Touch You Now
Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader
Warnings: none
Words: 1.7k
Summary: y/n's affection for Lando hasn't gone unnoticed by the Australians she works with but despite their encouragement, she's convinced that finding things to dislike about Lando is the only way to save herself and her job.
A/N: Well hello there, it's been quite a while. I've been terribly busy with school things but I'm finally free so I'm gonna try and start posting again. Most of my WIP are xmas' themed (that's how long I haven't written for) but I have other ideas so bear with me pls :)
After joining McLaren in 2021 as Daniel’s PR manager, the girl had found a routine in her work with the papaya team, some comfort and calm in a world that always seemed rapid. That had, however, all been blown to pieces when Daniel had announced he wasn’t coming back the year after. With this new piece of information had come the sadness of losing someone she had grown accustomed to calling a friend more than a coworker but also the uncertainty of her place within the team without the Australian.
Luckily for her, the arrival of a rookie in the team also meant that the PR manager position she was occupying was still available and so she kept her job. If Oscar and Daniel were both Australian, the resemblance pretty much stopped there. Where Daniel was all loud laughs and obnoxious jokes, Oscar was quieter and understanding his humour had taken some time.
Despite that, Oscar and y/n became friends quickly. The girl was always there for him when the car wasn’t working like Zak had promised it would and even when they had media to attend and her work should have been her priority, she always made sure Oscar was 100% okay before sending him into the lion’s den. It made her a good PR manager and an even better friend.
Being level-headed was a necessary part of the job and y/n liked to pride herself in how well she dealt with tricky situations without ever losing her cool or at least without showing any signs of it. It seemed like nothing or nobody could crack her. Except one person with a dimpled smile and green eyes that mostly sparkled with a hint of mischief whenever their eyes met.
Falling for someone who worked for the same team had never been in y/n’s plans, especially not falling for a driver and yet that was the predicament she was in now.
From the moment Lando had grown out of his timid shell, y/n had known she was done for. Lando was everything she liked in a person, he was funny, kind, smart and so beautiful it made her head spin. If the situation had been different, maybe she would have allowed herself to feel like that but she couldn’t risk her job for what she hoped was some silly crush that would pass.
However, the crush never faded and the more time passed, the more she found to like about Lando. She tried her best to ignore him, to ignore how her stomach felt when he was around and how she seemed to just forget how to act, how to be when he was close. She had hoped no one would notice it but the problem with spending so much time with a driver was that they got pretty good at reading you over time.
Daniel had caught on exactly as it happened and he had teased her relentlessly for it when he knew she was in the mood for that. When he noticed how she was beating herself up over something she couldn’t control, Daniel offered a reassuring smile and a hug, reminding her that she was only human and having feelings for someone, no matter how great they were, wasn’t worth getting all worked up about and feeling guilty for.
For the two years they worked together, Daniel tried to convince her to shoot her shot because if the longing glances his teammate was always throwing their way said something, it was that Lando was in the same predicament as her. No matter how insistent the Australian was, y/n never agreed to do anything to make her feelings known or even test the water with Lando.
In the end, Daniel gave up on her side and instead tried to convince Lando to do something. Just like she didn’t believe Daniel, Lando didn’t believe him when he told her that making a move was a good idea. Lando wasn’t confident enough to risk getting rejected, especially by someone he saw every time they were at the track. Before the Australian could make what he thought was a great love story happen, he stepped down from F1 and despite being a reserve driver for half of the season, he wasn’t there or had enough time to play Cupid so he just prayed that the two idiots he called his friends would wake up one day and realise how stupid they were being.
When Oscar took his seat and started hanging out with the two of them, it didn’t take him long to put two and two together and realise that they were both painfully into each other but too blinded by their fears to actually see the whole picture. He found it sweet at first how Lando would always keep a seat for y/n in meetings, acting like he hadn’t meant to when she came in or how he would always make sure her favourite coffee was available in the McLaren hospitality when she worked trackside. He could tell that despite being scared, Lando desperately wanted something to happen. All the Brit needed was a little push and Oscar was determined to be the one to do it.
When Oscar had told y/n that he knew about her feelings for Lando, she had wanted the ground to swallow her whole right this instant. Working with a new driver that didn’t know her or Lando had let her hope that she could pretend easily but Oscar wasn’t blind. The girl had immediately answered that her feelings would soon be old news because she had made a plan to be over Lando by the end of the 2024 season.
Her so-called genius plan was simple: if she managed to find things to dislike in Lando, enough for her to have the ick, her feelings would certainly go away all at once. So this season, she was determined to pay attention to Lando’s every move and find negative things to say about it. Despite thinking that the plan was terrible and wasn’t going to work, Oscar knew he had to somehow warn Lando. He couldn’t break her trust by telling him so he had to convince Lando that he absolutely needed to make a move before somebody else did and stole y/n’s heart away.
Oscar decided to start his master plan before they filmed a few challenges for McLaren’s youtube channel. Lando and him were hanging out in an empty meeting room, waiting for the shooting to start so it was the perfect opportunity to talk freely.
-“ I think Logan has a crush on someone at McLaren.” Oscar stated out of nowhere
-“ Why do you think that ?”
-“ He’s always hanging around the garage. He says he’s there to see me but he doesn’t really talk to me when he’s here. He mostly talks to y/n. Actually, he only talks to her.”
-“ So you’re saying he’s interested in her ?”
-“ I think so. We never really talked about this kind of thing but it looks like it.” Oscar lied, knowing he would have to warn the American about the lie he had just fed Lando
-“ Oh, okay.” Lando paused, toying with the hem of his sleeves “ Do you think she likes him back ?”
-“ I don’t know if he’s her type but I don’t see why she wouldn’t. She’s always with me and Logan is too so that has to mean that she enjoys his company a little. Otherwise she wouldn’t hang out with us.”
-“ Did she ever talk to you about her dating life and stuff ?” Lando asked, trying to look uninterested
-“ Well, I know she’s pretty shy so she’s not one to make the first move, even if she likes a guy.”
-“ Yeah that sounds like her.” he smiled fondly, remembering how she had been her first days at McLaren, all soft spoken and keeping to herself, not wanting to bother anyone
-“ So, let’s say if somebody likes her, he better make a move soon because she’s not going to do it herself and also there’s other people who may be interested…”
-“ What are you insinuating, Oscar ?”
-“ What do you think ?”
-“ I do not like y/n like that.” Lando argued
-“ So it wouldn’t bother you if I set them up on a date, then ?” Oscar said, pretending to take out his phone to text either of them
-“ Wait !” Lando exclaimed, grabbing Oscar’s wrist before letting go of it like he had been burnt “ Please, Oscar. Don’t do that.”
-“ See ? I knew you weren’t dense.”
-“ I’m not. I just don’t want to ruin our friendship or how comfortable she feels at work right now.”
-“ That’s not going to happen and anyway you won’t know what she thinks until you actually ask her out.”
-“ What if she says no ?”
-“ What if she says yes ?” Oscar mimicked his friend with a knowing smile
-“ You’re so annoying.” Lando scoffed, rolling his eyes
-“ Does that mean you’re going to at least try to ask her out before giving up ?”
-“ I’m going to think about it.”
-“ No, that won’t cut it. You have to promise me you’ll try.”
-“ I don’t owe you shit, Oscar. Why are you so persistent anyway ?”
-“ I’m doing this in the name of love, mate. I just heard through the grapevine that she might like someone and from all the time I spend with her, I’m saying you should shoot your shot.”
-“ What does that even mean ? Why are you being so cryptic ?”
-“I can’t explicitly tell you because that would make me a bad friend but you have to trust me on that one. Just ask her out”
-“ Alright, I’ll do it. But don’t you dare pressure me or anything. If I’m doing this, I’m doing it on my own terms and that’s it.” Lando caved in, pointing his finger at the Australian’s face
-“ I’m so glad you said yes. I hope I at least get to be the godfather of one of your kids.” he laughed as Lando became bright red and slapped his shoulder
-“ So you’re going to tell Logan not to go for it ?”
-“ I don’t need to.”
-“ What ?”
-“ I don’t need to and you don’t have to worry about him.”
-“ Oh my God. You lied !”
-“ It was for a greater cause so it’s okay, right ?”
-“ Greater cause, my ass ! You just like to torture me.”
-“ Maybe…”
-“ I’m gonna–” Lando started before being cut off by someone calling them both to start filming, saving Oscar who just smirked and walked away.
He might have lied to have what he wanted but it wasn’t selfish if he just wanted his two friends to be happy so he didn’t feel too bad.
#f1 imagine#f1#formula 1#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fandom#f1 scenario#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando norris
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vice | p. wb
stylist!wonbin x actress!reader | 5.7k words
why was this so fun to write LMFAOOO maybe i’m insane for real you guys. this was a request kinda but i went off on my own. needy lil freak wonbin we love you.
contains: metaphors and allusion to drugs, power imbalance (wonbin works for the reader)
at first to wonbin you were like dessert. a sweet treat for the end of the night to take the edge off of his long days.
he first met you after a long bout of unemployment, something that was common in his line of work. stylists were in an abundance these days, and each time wonbin thought he had a gig it fell through. because of his desperation for work, he ended up agreeing to take a job offered to him by his friend. the pay was shit, the photoshoot was in a studio that would take an hour to get to on public transportation, and wonbin was taking a professional step backwards by joining the team as an assistant stylist. he knew he couldn’t afford to say no so he agreed, not even bothering to ask who the subject of the photoshoot was.
when wonbin arrived the next day, he was greeted by the friend that got him the job. like always, wonbin got the rundown of the day and heard that several things had already gone terribly wrong. he nodded and followed closely behind shotaro, trying to understand what the concept of the photoshoot was and what brands they were allotted to use.
wonbin saw you for the first time when shotaro guided him behind the wall where he saw flashing lights and heard camera shutters. he barely got a glance at you, his view obstructed by a photographers and the makeup team that swarmed you between each camera click. wonbin was amazed at the amount of people, nothing like the low-brow photoshoot he was expecting. when he finally weaved through the crowd of people he caught up to shotaro and asked him who you were.
shotaro was taken aback by his question. wonbin saw his friend stop going through the clothing rack to turn towards him with his eyes wide. wonbin was informed through a tight-lipped whisper that you were an up and coming actress, one of the biggest new names on the scene. shotaro told wonbin that he was lucky to land such a good gig and if he was able to get a permanent role on the team he would be more than well off. wonbin looked back to you as he got a fast explanation and rundown of all the things you were featured in. he could see your side profile, how your hair blew in the artificial wind of the fans.
“you know i don’t watch movies.” wonbin said, still looking towards you.
“i suggest you at the very least watch hers.” shotaro looked back to the clothing rack, pulling the next outfit off its hangers to have it ready. “she’s pretty talented.” shotaro says.
wonbin found himself more interested you the longer he looked. you knew your angles, working them well for the camera as the raw photos appeared on the prompter. wonbin watched each one come out flawless, how you took the photographers pointers and acted on them immediately. he had seen too many actors in his time know nothing about posing for a camera, treating every photoshoot like it was a movie. but you did it well, maybe a little too well.
wonbin was only pulled away from you when he heard the director of photography call for the next outfit. wonbin turned to shotaro quickly, recalling all of his prior experience as the assistant stylist. shotaro carefully laid the clothes across wonbin’s outstretched arms and wonbin made his way over to you.
when you looked up at wonbin from the white block you posed on, he was taken aback. he could admit he wasn’t the best judge of character but something about you just seemed to pull him in. you tilted your head and thanked him for the clothes, motioning for him to lay them beside you. wonbin complied immediately, letting the clothes rest in the free space before bowing away back to shotaro.
the rest of the day was spent like that. wonbin running around like he was a newbie again, doing everything shotaro needed. the only relief he felt was when he would steal your attention for a moment and when he would be your only focus for a second. each time you thanked wonbin he could feel the heat across his cheeks. he didn’t know what it was, everyone else seemed to be fine around you. you had even built up a rapport with shotaro and the rest of the crew. but when it came to wonbin he was a mess, reduced to deep bows and nods of acknowledgment anytime he got your attention.
wonbin pat himself on the back when the work day was over. he came to the conclusion that being in your presence was inherently embarrassing, that he would never be able to overcome his reddening cheeks or hesitant movement when it came to you. wonbin was excited to go, but when shotaro asked him to come in the next day per your request, something in his mind shifted. he suddenly remembered your lingering looks, the way you grazed his hand and said a shy sorry afterwards. wonbin agreed faster than he should’ve, reasoning that he was just grateful to have a job for another day.
when wonbin first saw you outside of work he was experiencing another late night scouring job listings and watching youtube videos to play in the background. you came on his television due to autoplay, something only slightly related to what he was watching prior. regardless, you came on his screen bright eyed with a wide smile, and a bubbly lift to your voice as you introduced yourself to the camera.
wonbin tried to ignore you at first, to banish your voice to the backburner of his mind as he focused on more important things. you were meant to purely be white noise to occupy his overactive brain but he kept hearing you. the sentences wonbin typed into his job applications turned into whatever you were saying on his television. so he took a break, closing his laptop as he turned his attention to you. he watched a full thirty minute video of you breaking down scenes of a movie you were in. wonbin watched the whole thing intently with zero prior knowledge of the film. the way you spoke was sweet and expressive, the complete opposite of how you treated him.
he reasoned with himself that he pulled out his phone to figure out more about you. shotaro’s advice to watch a movie of yours played in his mind as he saw the prices to rent your most recent film. he spent twenty dollars he didn’t have to rent it, and he watched the whole thing curled up on his loveseat.
he was becoming obsessed and before he knew it, wonbin’s whole day started revolving around you. the next day wonbin came to work early with a new appreciation for you. he found himself desperately wanting to make a good second impression, to show you that he was really grateful for the opportunity to work under you. wonbin didn’t know why he wanted to show the good side of himself to you so badly, but he arrived to the studio long before your team came. he found himself lingering outside of the studio waiting for shotaro to park his car, but his friend was forgotten when your sleek black car pulled up to the curb.
wonbin watched you hop out of the car in an outfit to match. he watched you walk through the parking lot with your entourage huddled around you like fans. you were unbothered with your black shades that you only lifted when you made it past the entryway of the studio. you casted a glance to wonbin at the last second, and he continued to turn his head to follow you. he understood in that moment why you were up and coming, you had something that could only be described as it. wonbin realized the second day how refined you were, how much you advocated for yourself. you could wear anything, from the all black street style to the colorful designer brands they had you dressed in for the photoshoot.
when he got home after working for you he would scour the internet looking for things about you. in an effort to figure you out wonbin had seen your entire filmography within the month and he could recite almost all of your interviews. it had gotten to the point that you were getting in the way of the work he was trying to do and he was almost alarmed that he didn’t care in the slightest. he was lucky that he had been offered a position as your permanent assistant stylist after shotaro put in a good word for him.
as time went on, whatever wonbin had with you had gotten out of hand. he was able to convince himself that he was just learning about you, but he found that he needed more and more. niche interviews didn’t cut it anymore, he was searching the internet high and low for deep cuts of you. that’s when wonbin began to admit to himself he never had much of a sweet tooth. something as sugary as icecream sated his need after a bite or two. if he had to compare his relationship with you now he would compare you to the bottles of liquor or the powdery white substances that he always saw at the parties you steered clear from. you were something he got hooked on and by the time he realized it was too late.
he couldn’t blame you for being addicting, you were simply existing the same way all vices did. if anything it was wonbin’s fault. he wasn’t diligent enough, he didn’t administer you in small doses. drugs weren’t necessarily was bad if you did it in moderation. but your personality and proximity to wonbin made that impossible. he was all in, up to his neck in you and he was only sinking lower and lower.
you were just so much like him and you didn’t even know it. wonbin blamed it on the fact that he couldn’t wear the clothes he actually wanted to wear at work. he had to make sure that he was comfortable, that he could move the way he needed to when gathering clothes or running around on set. what wonbin really wanted to wear to work was the clothes he had in his closet that you also happened to own. he was able to convince himself that it was always completely by coincidence that the clothes you would wear would appear in his closet in his size. like there was someone else blowing his paychecks to have your exact wardrobe. but wonbin wore it well, and he believed that you would agree with him.
you were mysterious just like him, a little off-putting but alluring nonetheless. you were his carbon copy—if only he could get the words out to tell you that. wonbin was only able to confess to you in his moments of solitude, when your face would flash through his mind like a bolt of lightning. he got used to whispering your name over and over again at night, just to take the edge off. you were all consuming and you didn’t even know it, the same way all vices were. wonbin believed that if he didn’t have you it would only be something worse.
as wonbin stayed on your team as a stylist, you eventually took off. you booked important movies projected to be blockbuster hits, you were constantly booked for photoshoots and interviews. he was able to stave off his addiction to you by working for you. he was forced to be the most respectful version of himself to be in your good graces. he was lucky you had taken a liking to him to the point that he became your personal assistant. this meant wonbin got the privilege to follow you around all day like a lost puppy, doing your chores and walking your dog when it visited you on set. he fetched your food when you didn’t feel like getting up. wonbin had become your servant, and he didn’t want anything else.
being your servant meant he got to see the most intimate aspects of your life. he knew who was in your phone, what you wore and where you ate. he was able to see the things you shared in common and the things he suddenly felt himself taking a liking to.
the best perk was that he was able to sit in your trailer with you while you napped. after everyone else on the stylist and makeup team was shooed out of your trailer for lunch he had the unspoken permission to stay. truthfully it was because you needed someone to be there to wake you up in time. but you were nice enough to let wonbin take a nap on your tiny couch. you retreated to your bed in the back of the trailer while your manager reminded wonbin what time he needed to be back on set. wonbin nodded gently, settling deeper into the couch as his phone vibrated in his hand.
right as the door closed wonbin slid down his notifications bar to see what it was. a new interview of yours had just dropped, a picture of you in thumbnail smiling wide with your things spread out in front of you. wonbin looked into your area of the trailer over his shoulder. he saw your feet gliding across the mattress as you laid in bed. he wondered if you were on your phone watching videos like he was. whatever you were doing, he just hoped you were distracted enough.
wonbin knew better than to watch your videos while you were in the other room. he had picked up the nasty habit of losing himself when you appeared on the flat dimensions of his phone. it was like you were in the palm of his hands, the adrenaline of feeling you talk right to him made him lose all self control. he would’ve been able to talk himself out of doing something so bold especially when you were less than a yell away. but that’s what happens when people have addictions—they do stupid things because enough is never enough. that’s why even when wonbin was on the job where you were the topic of every sentence you weren’t talked about enough. in the moments when he would literally on his knees fixing your garment he wasn’t worshipping you enough. he needed his fix and he couldn’t wait another moment. so while wonbin chewed on the nail bed of his index finger he clicked on the video with his thumb.
the orientation lock was already off from the night before and automatically went to landscape mode. the intro music crackled through his speakers in the split second it took him to turn it all the way down. wonbin looked behind him quickly to see that your motions had ceased on top of the bed. he sunk further into the mattress and spread his legs trying to keep up appearances for the invisible audience in front of him. wonbin was solely just doing his job, looking closely at your eyes to make sure the makeup came out well on camera and that your hair was styled right. he cursed himself for letting his bluetooth earbuds die, he needed to hear your voice even though he had been hearing it all day. he was forced to settle for the subtitles and reading your lips. glossy and plush, drawing into a smile each time you sheepishly explained another item in your bag. wonbin felt the urge to look over his shoulder again but he didn’t want to miss a moment.
he abused the rewind ten seconds button while he pushed down on the tent that always formed in his pants like muscle memory. he brought his leg over the other when he saw you pull out the same sunscreen he owned.
wonbin was always in a negative feedback loop when it came to your videos. he would find a part he liked the most, a little moment of you looked at the camera with big eyes when you were asked a question or a small reaction where you would chew on your lip while in deep thought. no matter how short it was wonbin became obsessed, he would rewind it again and again. he saw you look up to the staff behind the camera for approval a million times, rewinding the video just to have it seared into his eyelids. he watched your delicate hands fiddle with each item as you pulled it out of your bag, how you took the time to sincerely explain each one.
he was too distracted by you that he didn’t know you were right behind him, watching him rewind the same part over and over again. as soon as he felt like something was behind him he heard your voice right next to his ear.
“you really are obsessed with me, huh?” you said.
wonbin instantly let his phone drop to the ground and yelled. it was the loudest he had ever been, the sound bounced off of the walls of your trailer and even made you jump. wonbin stood up from your tiny sofa quickly, rubbing his sweaty hands down his pants as he tried to think of an explaination.
“i was just making sure…” wonbin stammered.
all the excuses he had made up in his head for this exact moment were leaving him. he couldn’t think of anything when you cocked your head to the side with that knowing smirk.
“just making sure what?” you mocked.
wonbin felt red hot shame bloom over his entire body. his eyesight felt like it was blurry even though he wore his glasses and he felt short of breath. he was sure you saw the tips of his ears turn red and his hands instinctually clenching.
you only watched him, not saying anything else as wonbin pathetically tried to think about anything else other than the churning feeling in his stomach. being underneath your scrutinizing gaze only made everything worse. when wonbin tried adjusting his pants your eyes immediately flickered down to what he was so desperately trying to hide.
he didn’t have the time to decipher the look in your eye. he just knew he had to get out of there as soon as possible. wonbin got up from the couch and headed to the door, pulling down his sweater as low as it would go.
“wait.” you said calmly.
wonbin turned around to see that you held his phone in your hand. he could see your video still playing on his screen, your demeanor on the screen completely opposite of your expressionless face. you held out wonbin’s phone slightly, moving it back and forth for emphasis.
“don’t forget this.” you said casually.
when he reached for his phone you let it fall from your hand. wonbin watched his phone fall to the floor, making a dull thud when it made contact with your carpet. he looked up to you, trying to figure out what you wanted from him. the shame coursing through his veins turned to fire as he watched you settle into the same spot wonbin was in on your couch. his phone was right by your foot, a silent dare for him to come closer.
wonbin wasn’t sure if he was still reeling off of you causing his mind to make up things. was your hand that moved to rest on your knee beckoning to him? were your eyes staring at him with intent or disgust? he didn’t know what to do anymore. he felt himself getting weak, getting closer and closer to the ground until he was on his knees in front of you.
he couldn’t mistake the smile that spread across your face as your eyes followed him all the way to the floor. wonbin remembered seeing that exact smile in the first interview he ever watched of you. it was even more intoxicating in person, the different intent in your curled lips made the churning in his stomach worsen. you looked down quickly to his phone that was by your foot and back to his widened eyes.
“come here wonbin.” you moved your foot to lightly hit the edge of his phone where the video of you still played. “come get your phone.” you said.
your words were innocent and you had genuine curiosity across your face when wonbin stayed in place. you’re one hell of an actress wonbin thought to himself. you played the role of someone who was as non-assuming and confused. he tried to figure out what his role in all of this was, who you needed him to be in your movie. he remembered that he was your loyal servant who heeded your every request. so wonbin slowly started closing the space between his body and his phone, crawling on his hands and knees slowly.
when wonbin was close enough to reach his phone he was beside your leg. he kept an eye on you the whole time, now afraid to move an inch underneath your gaze. when you leaned back on the couch wonbin drew in a breath. you opened your mouth and his body straightened and his eyes widened.
“what do you want to do to me?” you ask.
when wonbin didn’t have the words you tilted your head to the side and batted your eyelashes. you looked so perfect from down here. pure and unsullied like snow. wonbin wanted to lean forward and take you in deep through his nose.
“i want to smell you.” wonbin sniffled.
when you spread your legs further wonbin couldn’t stop himself from shuffling forward on his knees, almost falling to his hands in desperation. before he could touch you, you put up a hand. wonbin stopped instantly, his shaky gaze going up to you.
“you have to be quiet.” you said, holding up a single finger to show that was your one rule.
when wonbin went back on his haunches to nod eagerly. you waited a beat before nodding to wonbin, hands creeping up your legs until they rested on your waist.
instantly wonbin closed the space between your legs and his body. he attached himself to one of them, kissing your jean clad knee before breathing you in deeply. he couldn’t stop himself from groaning, knowing exactly which perfume you had over your body.
“you smell like me.” wonbin murmurs.
“no.” you lift wonbin’s chin so he looks up at you. you see the blush across his cheeks when you shake your head. “you smell like me.”
you lean back on the sofa and wonbin lets his head drop, cheek resting on your knee. you can hear the whimpers bubble from his mouth, how they turn into whiny little groans when his crotch makes contact with your leg.
“i can’t tell if you wanna fuck me or be me.” you scoff.
wonbin knew he was told to be quiet but he couldn’t help himself. not when he could feel the patchwork of your jeans rub against the most sensitive part of him. he remembers scouring the internet high and low for your pants only to find out they were custom made, one of a kind. something that was previously so unattainable was in the palm of his sweaty shaking hand.
wonbin pressed his fingers deep into your leg as he shuffled forward to straddle your foot. he felt your skin dimple underneath his grip and you hissed before jolting your leg. the sudden movement made wonbin cry out pitifully, the pleasure of your leg moving against his crotch was so intense it was nearly painful. he moved his head to hang between your two knees as he stilled to catch his breath. he panted while pressing his forehead into the cushion of your sofa, trying his best to regain his composure. you only watched him and laughed, reaching down to manually loosen the white knuckle grip his fingers had on you.
“don’t leave a mark.” wonbin instantly loosened his fingers at your order. “i have a photoshoot tomorrow.” you said.
wonbin nodded because he knew. vogue italia. you were going to be on the cover, you and your costar were going on the spread. they were dressing you in missoni. the direction was were going for was young and fresh, marking a new generation of actresses and you were the leader. he knew and here he was, holding onto you so tight you could break.
“sorry.” your hand wedged between wonbin’s chin and the couch cushion to lift his gaze again. he looked into your dark eyes, having to swallow to try and mend his meek voice. “sorry.” he repeated.
wonbin didn’t move his hips against your leg again as a way to punish himself. he wanted to show you he had some semblance of control, that he was able to follow orders. he didn’t mind acting becoming your dog—by the way he was panting and whining he was already half way there.
“it’s okay.” you said after a beat.
he was positive you liked torturing him. the glint in your eye never went away, and your lips were stuck in a permanent smirk at his state. wonbin was sure you tsked at him just to see the dejection across his face, that you responded only after short silences to see his pupils shake. he was sure that you unbuttoned your shirt just to watch the color drain from his face and to see his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nothing. you took the underside of your chest in your hands, pushing them upwards for wonbin to see.
you were making a show of it just to see him become even more pathetic. you started slowly raising and lowering your leg and pressed your shin into wonbin’s crotch. he looked down at your moving leg, resisting the urge to move his hips by biting his lip.
“keep going.” you said after planting your feet into the ground.
you leg went back to not moving, but wonbin didn’t mind. he made up for it three times back, dragging his crotch on the bottom of your foot and then against your shin.
it wasn’t long before wonbin was unraveling again, humping your leg like the dog you were turning him into. he didn’t remember what he was like before this, if he was always this desperate. he didn’t remember ever needing something as bad as he needed you. even though he would eventually get off he could tell that he would need more. you opened wonbin’s world simply by sitting in a chair, he knew that he would leave your trailer he’d be thinking about his next high.
the thought of you declining something like this happening again made wonbin want to savor it. he listened well this time, one of his hands clutched the armrest of the couch and the other gripped the cushion between your two knees. he looked away from your chest, afraid that too much of you would lead to an overdose. with his cheek pressed into your knee again wonbin started rutting his hips against your leg, trying to find any stimulation possible.
“look at me wonbin.”
he brought his chin to rest on your knee, eyes closed as the even tone in your voice made him feel even more pathetic. it was as exhilarating as it was embarrassing, wonbin switched from rutting is hips back to the slow circular motion he started out with. the pain in his pants made him shudder, his straining dick had at some point made it out of the fly of his boxers and pressed into the cold metal of his zipper. he needed to keep his eyes closed, atleast long enough to focus on only one sensation so he didn’t start crying.
“i said look at me, bin.” you ordered.
wonbin opened his eyes, he could tell they were watery by the stinging feeling of tears threatening to break past his waterline.
his face must’ve been pitiful, because he saw the smirk go away as you tilted your head affectionately. you even looked at wonbin like he was a helpless dog. your hands went to his face, and wonbin preened his head off your knee towards your hands to feel your touch faster.
“i bet you would’ve fucking killed anyone who got the job if it wasn’t you.” you cooed.
wonbin closed his eyes to remember the feeling of your fingers holding his face then opened them just as fast. he was nodding at your statement even though your question was fuzzy in his mind.
“that’s what you wanna hear?” wonbin nodded again, not sure what he was agreeing to—he just needed you to keep talking “you probably shouldn’t even be near me.” you say.
for the first time wonbin found himself disagreeing with you. he didn’t know where he was meant to be, he lived day to day and paycheck to paycheck as a freelancer in a highly competitive profession. but he had no doubt in his mind that he was where he was meant to be, desperately humping your leg in your hotel room biting his lip to stay quiet. he just wished he could’ve articulated this to you—or at the very least shook his head. but wonbin was so caught up in that familiar tightening in his stomach that he continued nodded as he started rubbing against your leg faster.
wonbin nestled into your soft hands. he could smell the shae butter and the minty smell of the medicated ointment your coated on your nail beds. he took in another shaky deep breath that he let out when you tucked a piece of hair behind his ear.
“i can’t deny that you’re cute though.” you said.
you pulled your hands away from wonbin and propped your elbows on your thighs. you looked down at him, how he was so close to tears. you could see his large eyes begging you for more, not even bothering to hide it. there was no way this was the same quiet, elusive, and mysterious wonbin shotaro talked about constantly.
wonbin watched you lean forward until chin rested in your hands. his breathy pants got louder and he dug so hard into the cushion he felt his nails starting to bend. as you leaned closer wonbin strained his neck to get closer to your face before letting it fall back to your knee. you were testing him by bringing your face so close. wonbin could see the blemishes in your skin and the eyebags that were beginning to set it from lack of sleep. wonbin wanted to reach out and caress the apples of your cheeks that glowed in front of him.
“you’re beautiful.” your voice is sweet, and wonbin’s eyes look like they are shimmering for you. “you’re the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen actually.” you coo.
wonbin kissed your knee and you can see the drool seeping past his lips in between his heavy moans. you can tell he’s close, his desperate hips move even faster than before and you can see his knuckles turn white from the way he grips the cushion. you rack your mind for the final blow, trying to think of the thing wonbin needs to hear to get him to make a mess in his pants. he parts his swollen lips, a tiny exhale slipping past before he strings his declaration together.
“i’m close.” he whimpers.
“mhm.” you lean close to wonbin, adjusting yourself off the couch so you can whisper directly into his ear. “we’d make a pretty cute couple, don’t ya think?” you smirk.
almost instantly, a prolonged whine erupts from wonbin’s throat. it’s high-pitched and bounces off the walls of your trailer. you feel his hips still against your leg, and wonbin pulls away from you to press his face into your leg. he muffles out the rest of his whines in your denim, and you can feel the drool filtering through the thick fabric to wet your leg. you would tell wonbin that they’re custom made and he needs to be careful, but your sure he already knows that. you only pull away and lean back into the couch to watch the man get lost in pleasure. he gives your leg a few final thrusts, and then he slumps completely against you.
when wonbin pulls away from your leg to look back up at you, his eyes are still blown out and glassy. his chest rises and falls quickly, but he doesn’t move himself from against your leg. you start buttoning up your shirt and you can tell so clearly that wonbin wants to help you. when you let your hands rest at your sides wonbin gets the hint quickly. he stands up from his spot on the ground with shaking legs, and puts his fidgeting hands to your blouse. he focuses on the fabric as he buttons up your shirt, and you laugh at wonbin finally showing you a shred of shame. when you look up to him you purposefully bat your eyelashes and bring your hands to gently hold his bicep. he freezes against your hand and bites on his bottom lip quickly. when his unsteady hands successfully button your blouse he pulls his hands away quickly and stands in front of you. you can see the small dark splotch in the front of his pants. you motion towards the spot and wonbin looks too, awkwardly shifting on his feet when he notices.
“do you want me to send you home early?” you ask.
wonbin shakes his head no and adjusts his pants but pulling at the material gathered at his upper thigh.
“i’m okay.” wonbin says.
“you know.” you cross your legs and look wonbin up and down. you’re sure you could eat him whole and you’re positive he would let you. but you’re better at hiding your desperation behind smirks and shoulder shrugs. “maybe if you’re good we can do a little more next time.” you say nonchalantly.
wonbin adjusts his pants again when there’s a knock at your door. a moment later your shotaro comes in, takes a look at the both of you and checks the time on his phone.
“lunch is over, are you ready?” he says.
you get up quickly, shaking yourself off and casting one more look to wonbin before looking to shotaro.
“i’m ready.” you say, grinning ear to ear.
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The Arrangement // Mafia!Lando x Reader Pt. 3
Part 1 is here, Part 2 is here
WC: 3.2k
Warnings: traditional wedding and vows, casual dominance from Lando, all types of feels
No descriptions of reader's physical appearance
Author's note: Who's ready for the wedding? 🧡
The day had finally arrived.
Your wedding day was brining up all sorts of emotions within you and you weren’t sure which one to land on. Your friends were the only thing keeping you balanced during the hectic day. Your bridesmaids were working tirelessly to ensure everything went smoothly. They’d turned what could easily be a stressful experience into something lighthearted as you all shared laughs and listened to a playlist of your favorite songs while getting ready.
Heavy knocking at the door drew everyone’s attention. You all turned as the door cracked slightly.
“Is everyone decent?” Questioned a Spanish accent from the hallway. Elisa opened the door allowing Carlos, Lando’s best man, to enter the room. You couldn’t help but laugh as your friend not so subtly checked out the Spaniard.
“I have a gift for the bride.” Carlos revealed a pastel box with a large white bow fixed to the top. You noticed the card attached to it, your name scribbled in what you could only guess was Lando’s handwriting. You thanked Carlos for delivering the present. He nodded before turning to leave. Elisa was quick to escort him out not even trying to hide her interest in Lando’s groomsman.
“That man is a gift himself,” you all burst out laughing as your friend closed the door behind Carlos. You shook your head at her antics.
“Okay, can we see the gift? Enquiring minds want to know,” said your friend Luna.
You reluctantly opened the card under the watchful gaze of your bridal party. Leave it to your girls to be as nosy as possible. You bit your lip as you read the handwritten letter to yourself.
In the note Lando let you know how happy he was about today, especially now that you’d both agreed to give your relationship a try. You were surprised by the softness of his words until you read the final line of the letter. “I thought you might like something pretty to go with your dress.”
Your eyes squinted in confusion as you read your soon-to-be husband’s words. The box in your lap was far too large to contain any jewelry. Your friends instantly noticed your confusion and prompted you to open the box. Your fingers worked to undo the bow. You opened the box to reveal a gift that made you hot all over. There was no way this was your wedding present.
“Let us see it!” One of your bridesmaids yelled as they all crowded around you. Your hand covered your face in embarrassment as they all peaked into the gift box.
“No way!” The room filled with commentary from all the girls as you hooked a finger through the straps revealing a white lace bra and matching thong.
Lingerie. Of course.
“Looks like you have finally met your match,” stated Hannah as she tried her best to calm her fit of laughter. You hated the effect Lando’s present was having on you. In the past you’d never met anyone who’d caught you off guard, but maybe Lando would be the one man to give you a run for your money.
As your friends continued to talk you looked carefully at the delicate, expensive pieces Lando had handpicked for you. How did he even know my sizes? You questioned as you realized the items would fit you perfectly.
“This is so exciting! Girls, we’re gonna be aunt’s by the end of the year, I’m calling it now.” Luna’s words caused you to roll your eyes. “Adorable little criminals running around causing trouble just like their parents.”
At her words you couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah that’s not happening.”
It wasn’t long before your dress arrived and you were ready to kickstart what would prove to be a memorable day.
“Aren’t you going to wear this,” asked Elisa gesturing toward the gift. You shook your head.
“I would never give him the satisfaction.”
❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎
Pretty soon you were all dressed, looking as stunning as ever. You carefully made your way to the car, your girls ensuring you and your dress remained in pristine condition on the ride over. Once you arrived you noticed the dark clouds beginning to form in the sky. You wondered if the dismal conditions would foreshadow your future life with the mafia prince.
“Let’s get you married,” Elisa grabbed your hand already holding your bouquet. Carlos along with Alex and Oscar, Lando’s other groomsmen, paired up with your girls ready to make their way down the aisle of the church.
You were fiddling nervously with the lace that held your bouquet together when you heard the sweet familiarity of your name being called. You smiled as you locked eyes with your grandmother, her dress matching perfectly with the color you’d chosen for your bridal party.
“Grandma, what are you doing out here?” You questioned as she pulled you in for a hug.
“As independent as you may be there is no way I’m letting my sweet angel be alone at a time like this.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat at her words. Considering the strained relationship you had with your parents you’d opted not to have your father walk you down the aisle, your mother either. They didn’t seem to care, as long as you made it down the aisle the logistics didn’t matter to them. You could already picture the two of them sat front row ready to spring into action if you even tried to have second thoughts about joining your family with the Norris mafia.
The wedding party had already made their way down the aisle, now it was just the two of you. Your fingers clasped the locket your grandfather had given you when you were a little girl. “You’re alright, sweetie.” Your arms were intertwined as your grandma gave you a reassuring squeeze. “I’m right here.”
The doors were opened and the two of you made a slow trek down the aisle. You stared straight ahead as every person in the cathedral trained their eyes on you. You could hear your mother’s voice in your head reprimanding you and telling you to smile. You plastered on a grin as your fiancé came into view.
Of course he looked good.
Lando’s dimples showed as he took in the sight of you. You were a vision as you approached the alter. He bit his lip clearly captivated by the look of you. Lando pulled your grandmother in for a sweet hug. “Thanks Nana,” you heard him whisper as the two of them separated. He reached out and laced your fingers with his as the priest began to speak.
You tried to sneak a glance at your almost-husband. The fresh haircut he’d gotten for the wedding paired with the well tailored suit made him look irresistible. You were thankful you’d agreed to give things a try with him. If you didn’t it would’ve made checking him out in front of hundreds of people a lot more awkward.
You swallowed back your lust as you noticed the chain that hung around his neck, the platinum necklace falling perfectly against his golden skin. Lando gave your hand a squeeze, alerting you that he was well are of the thoughts you were having. He licked his lips as he rubbed at the facial hair lining his chin. The attraction was evidently mutual.
As the priest droned on Lando leaned in, his fingers pushing your veil away from one ear as he spoke to you. “You look absolutely incredible.”
Don’t react. Don’t react. Don’t react.
Oh God you couldn’t help it. Your skin grew warm at his words, a shy smile breaking through your usual resolve. Who was this man and why were you allowing him to get to you like this?
It was finally time for the most important part of the ceremony. The priest repeated the vows you and Lando were to exchange that would solidify your bond to the mobster for life. You’d opted for the traditional set of vows and Lando didn’t disagree. ‘I don’t feel like lying,’ were your exact words when the topic of writing personal vows had come up.
It wasn’t long before Lando was slipping a wedding band on your finger, declaring to the full cathedral that he would respect, protect, and love you for the rest of his life. You weren’t too sure about the latter aspect but you felt confident the future kingpin could live up to the first two promises.
Now it was your turn. You spoke Lando’s full name as the priest repeated the vows you were supposed to say to Lando. You had no problems regurgitating the words until a particular line came up.
You paused, much to the confusion of many in the room. Your eyes danced between your almost-husband and the priest. What did he want you to say?
“To respect and obey,” started the priest again in an encouraging tone thinking you hadn’t heard him the first time.
You’d heard him just fine. There were a lot of things you’d begrudgingly agree to but this wasn’t one of them.
“To respect,” you stated hoping that would suffice.
“And obey,” said the priest once again.
You could feel the frustration emanating from your parents at your lack of compliance. Lando didn’t seem to mind your antics as a playful grin reached his lips, his eyes filled with humor.
“She’s just nervous is all,” you heard your mother’s poor attempt at quelling the guests’ concerns as you prolonged what should have been a straightforward task.
Once again you found Lando leaning into you, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“Be a good girl for me, yeah?”
How were you going to live with this man? Your eyes closed shut as you quickly repeated the line, hoping to bring the wedding to a close. Lando and both of your families were visibly pleased with your compliance (for very different reasons of course).
With rings on both your fingers it was time to make this whole thing official. “By the power vested in me, I now declare you both to be husband and wife.” The priest turned to Lando declaring happily, “You may now kiss the bride.”
“Just like we practiced,” Lando spoke for only your ears as he leaned in. None of the previous kisses could have prepared you for this. Lando cupped your jaw, his hand softly cradling the side of your face as he kissed you. And what a kiss it was. You could hear cheers throughout the room and whistles from his groomsmen as Lando depended the kiss. When you finally broke apart his nose brushed gently against yours. “Mrs. Norris,” he stated, clearly loving the taste of the words in his mouth.
With that the two of you were exiting the church, your guests all behind you cheering as you made your way to the car. Lando was a perfect gentleman as he helped you into the car ensuring that your dress and long veil were neatly tucked inside before he closed the door.
❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎
Your wedding reception was in full swing. Drinks were flowing and everyone was mingling. You didn’t expect much from the evening hoping to go through the motions and have a relatively laidback time. You felt Lando’s arm slip away from your waist as he excused himself from the conversation. Your eyes followed Lando as you watched him slip away with your father and father-in-law.
You knew this was all just an elaborate business deal but that didn’t stop the emotions you were feeling. As much as you were initially opposed to this entire ordeal today was still your wedding day. You’d hoped everyone around you would respect the fact that this was a moment you’d only have once and act accordingly. Sensing your change in energy Hannah grabbed your wrist and tugged you towards the dance floor. “No sadness today. Not on my watch.”
With a fair share of drinks in your system you had almost forgotten all about your newly minted husband abandoning you. That was until Lando reappeared beside you looking as casual as ever. The glare on your face was enough to make him ask “What have I done now?”
You shrugged trying to look unfazed. “Nothing. Well, unless abandoning your wife at your own wedding counts for something.” You shook your head hating that you were letting Lando have an affect on you. “This is stupid,” you said more to yourself. “I should’ve known this was all bs when you said you actually wanted to give us a chance. This is still nothing more than a transaction to you.”
Somewhere along the way the friends who were sat around you slipped away, allowing Lando to sit beside you. He pulled his chair close to you. “Listen, there are some things you’re just going to have to understand if any of this is to work. I can't tell you everything that goes on in my world. My job is to keep you safe and if I’m any good at it you’ll never know what’s going on with that part of my life.”
You opened your mouth ready to speak but Lando cut you off. “I’m not arguing with you on this and I’m not changing my mind. I want you completely separate from my work.”
As if on cue Lando’s father approached letting him know there was still more to discuss before the night was over. You sighed heavily, crossing your arms as you glared at your husband. “Just go.”
Lando called your name but you refused to look at him. “I don’t want you to be mad at me.” He reached out to cup your chin, forcing you to look at him. His tone was as serious as ever. “And I don’t need you causing a scene. Be a big girl and do what I’m telling you.”
For reasons unknown the condescension he spoke to you with had the opposite effect on you. While normally you’d bite back with a sharp comment, this time you faltered. Never had you allowed a man talk to you like this and get away with it. Maybe it was because a small part of you actually wanted this to work. An even smaller part knowing if you relinquished control to the man before you he would not abuse his power.
You nodded finally conceding. “Alright.”
You didn’t miss the joy on your husband’s face as he grabbed your hand and kissed the finger where two rings now sat. “Let’s go cut the cake.”
All eyes were on the golden couple as Lando hovered closely behind you. His hand covered yours as you sawed into the perfect cake and plated a slice. Lando had sense enough not to ruin your makeup with cake, instead opting to feed it to you. You accepted a piece and couldn’t help but moan at the heavenly taste. You plucked a piece from the plate and fed it to Lando. He was quick to capture your wrist, tongue licking the ivory frosting from the pads of your fingers, much to the delight of the onlookers.
Eventually Lando was pulled away by your father. This time around you opted not to care as you remembered Lando’s words. He wasn’t gone for long when Alex made an announcement for the two of you to come forward. Oscar dragged a chair to the center of the floor as Carlos announced it was time for the garter toss.
There was no time to protest as Lando guided you towards the chair. The room grew hot as Lando helped you sit, placing a kiss to your cheek. You tried not to look at him as he lowered himself to his knees before you, a mischievous look in his eyes as he grabbed your calf, placing a kiss on the inside of your ankle. The excited sounds from your guests (especially Lando’s friends) couldn’t be ignored as he lifted the skirt of your dress just enough to disappear under it.
And in that moment you hated the classic wedding tradition. Trying to train your mind on innocent thoughts was hard as Lando kissed up your leg. It felt like forever before he located the blue lace of the garter, opting to capture it with his teeth. There were deafening cheers in the room as Lando dragged the fabric down the length of your leg. He emerged with the garter between his teeth looking very pleased with himself and the reaction he’d gotten out of you. As tradition went, the single men all gathered as Lando launched the slinky material into the crowd. Carlos found victory as he easily caught the blue lace.
You were still in a haze from what just occurred. Having Lando that close to certain parts of your body was something you’d only considered in the privacy of your thoughts. You never expected that kind of proximity to come as the two of you were surrounded by family and friends but here you were.
Lando helped you up, his arms wrapped around your waist as he leaned in and whispered. “Wifey’s looking a bit flustered,” he teased as you pushed at his chest.
“Trust me, I can handle whatever you send my way.”
The night carried on pretty easily. At some point your friends grabbed you and led you upstairs to get changed. The girls helped you change out of your wedding dress and transition to your final look. The white mini dress you wore captured everyone’s attention as you descended the stairs, careful not to trip in your heels. Lando was front and center, once again praising your beauty as you took his arm.
The two of you made your rounds thanking everyone in attendance for showing up on your big day. There were tears in your eyes as you thanked your bridal party, pulling your girls in for hugs, unsure of when you’d see them again. Out of obligation more than anything else you hugged your parents. Your interaction with them felt sterile as they embraced you, their faces telling you they were just happy you’d helped them secure the connection they’d always dreamt of.
Lando walked over, his arm guiding your grandmother to you. She squeezed you in tight embrace and in that moment you were reminded what love actually felt like. You made a mental note to thank Lando for always being so sweet to the woman you loved more than anyone.
And with that the two of you were off. The guests lined the walkway as Lando opened the door to one of his many novelty sports cars and helped you in. The two of you waved at the guests one final time before taking off. As you watched the crowd disappear Lando reached over, his hand protectively gripping your exposed thigh. “Let’s see where tonight takes us.”
❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎
Author's note: I hope you all enjoyed the update! Let me know if I should post part 4.
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Time Flies (slowly) [LN4]
(Read part 1 here)
Summary: Years later, Lando hasn’t forgotten about the one that got away.
A/N: here is a happy ending after all the angst in part 1
There was so much anger and resentment, so much hatred, after the breakup. Lando's now ex-girlfriend had graduated medical school. What was supposed to be one of the happiest days of her life was overshadowed by the overwhelming feeling that the one person she wanted there with her, the man who had stayed by her side (even while across the world), wasn’t there.
But she was too proud to reach out, as was he. As Lando stalked her private instagram on one of his spam accounts she forgot to remove from her following, he felt the urge to call, or even just text a simple “congratulations, I am still unequivocally in love with you by the way”. Maybe that was too much though.
With a career like hers, she wasn't out of the clear once she graduated, she still had what felt like millenia left of training to do. So she threw herself into her career. She didn’t want to think about her ex, so she didn’t give herself time to think.
That worked for a while. Two years went by and she had been on top of her game. Training to work as an ER nurse had been difficult but rewarding. At first, only months after the breakup, she had a hard time but her philosophy of “working so hard you are too tired at the end of the day to think about how you lost the love of your life” had done her good for a while.
But, she had started to slowly fray at the edges. Sleeping just enough to sustain her but not enough to make her feel rejuvenated. Eating small meals to get her through the day but not enough to feel full. She thought she could get through it.
It wasn’t until she had a 22 year old that had gotten into a racing accident that she really realized how bad she had been feeling. All of the feelings she had been pushing down immediately came charging back up when she saw a tanned boy with curly brown hair. As she helped give him the medical care he needed, she kept reminding herself of the same thing, it's not Lando, Lando is okay, it's not Lando, Lando is fine. It wasn’t until she had tipped a cart full of sterilized tools over that she realized how much she was shaking. One of her coworkers, another nurse on her floor, had to drag her away while she insisted she was fine. She continued on, or at least tried to, until she had made a few too many minor mistakes and was forced to go home.
Walking into her flat, she made it just a few steps before she broke down. Exhaustion took over and she was unable to even get up after she cried herself to sleep right on the rug. Hours later she had finally gotten the energy to shower and then rot in bed. After what felt like eternity of staring at the ceiling, she grabbed her phone, hovering over the call button on Lando’s contact that she had been so unable to block, much less delete, over the past two years.
At what felt like rock bottom though, why not start digging some more?
Pressing the call button, she started to panic, wondering what she would say, till she finally heard his voice for the first time in years. “Hey, this is Lando, pretty busy at the moment, leave a message at the beep!” Voicemail. She had gained confidence for the first time in years and she was sent straight to voicemail.
It was loud in the club Lando was in. He had started off the night with friends at a nice restaurant and after enough drinks had been passed around, drinks that he declined, they ended up at the club they currently were in. Most of his company was off with their significant others, or dancing with people he just met, while Lando was sitting and talking to a woman who had confidently approached him earlier.
He didn’t feel the phone vibrating in his back pocket when he had his arm around her as they made small conversation. It wasn’t until he started to get nauseous from the smell of alcohol everywhere that he went to the bathroom to check his phone, seeing he had missed a call from the person he thought about the most, even after years apart.
Since the breakup, Lando had been a mess. It wasn’t his idea to break up. They had issues that they definitely needed to fix, issues they should have talked through instead of letting them snowball for so long, but it shouldn’t have ended the way it did. The minute they hung up those years ago he wanted to call her right back- no, he wanted to book a fight and see her immediately.
Maybe it was the hope that had ignited in him for the first time in forever, maybe it was the second hand intoxication from being in a club full of drunk people, but Lando pressed call back, praying to hear her voice.
She had had enough time to realize that calling him years after she broke up with him was a stupid decision to make, so of course after it got declined she turned her phone off for the night. She didn’t have anyone else who would contact her anyway.
Because of this, she missed the first call Lando made, then the next seven. It was like an addiction he quickly picked up. After that sliver of hope came back, he couldn’t stop the thoughts that crept in.
He thought it might have been a mistake on her end, she did ignore the rest of his calls- scratch that, the line was immediately cut the moment he tried to call back.
But the little voice in his head kept saying ‘try again, maybe she will pick up, maybe there is hope’.
He didn’t sleep the rest of the night. He didn’t sleep the most of the next night either, not till he gave into the voice in his head and bought a plane ticket.
As Lando sat on the flight, his mind ran through some of his favorite memories over their relationship, then, once those ran out, he imagined what it would be like when he showed up on her doorstep once more. He’d have a lot to explain, like why he was suddenly on her doorstep of her new apartment he had no actual reason to know the address to, something he was given by a good mutual friend who was very tired about hearing both sides moaning about how single they were.
It was all a blur as he landed and swiftly ran through the airport. He hadn’t packed more than an overnight backpack, deciding if this went horribly he would immediately go home to mop around, and if it went amazing he’d figure something out.
Standing in front of her doorstep now, he quickly knocked before he lost all remaining confidence.
“Lando? What the fuck?” Was all she was able to get out. She would have felt insecure about how disheveled she looked if the man standing in front of her didn’t also look just as terrible.
“I know, I know. This makes no sense, I have no reason to be here, and it's weird that I know your address.” He replied, correctly guessing every question she had but not giving a single answer to any of them.
“At least you are self aware.”
“I had to see you, it was genuinely ruining my life. After you called and I missed it, I tried calling back for hours. I didn’t sleep, I couldn’t sleep because all I could think about was why you called. If you had needed help, if it was a buttdial, or if you finally wanted to speak to me as much as I needed to speak to you after these few years. It's so strange feeling so many feelings for someone you broke up with too long ago to still be in love with. That relationship- our relationship was so far from perfect, long distance was too hard for either of us so instead we just phoned it in and stopped trying. But I just really miss you and I really want to make this work.”
This was crazy, both of them realized. Crazy of him to travel to another country after missing one phone call, crazy to have hope after years of silence on both ends, crazy to think that they could mend a relationship they both had let fall apart without giving it a fighting chance. But this was that fighting chance, this was the moment that could make or break them.
But she didn’t have anything to say, she couldn’t think of anything to say. So, when she pulled him by the collar and kissed him harder than he had ever been kissed, she hoped that he got her message.
It would be a long road to recovery, but it would be worth it.
Tagging: @eviethetheatrefreak, @96jnie, @youreverydayfangirl, @jxnellat, @eringaitskill, @slytherinholland
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𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗺𝗲 | 𝘲𝘩43 ♔
➪ summary: y/n had always loved quinn but she never got the chance to act on her feelings. and then quinn realized his own, and everything changed
➪ warnings: quinn has a bitchy girlfriend, quinn thinking he's not good enough
➪ word count: 5.6k
➪ file type: song based fic
➪ sunny's notes: the first song based fic i'm reposting and it's probably one of my favorites (there's five and i actually can't choose a favorite one). i hope you guys like this one because it deserves to be loved to be honest
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‘you're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset
she's going off about something that you said
'cause she doesn't get your humor like I do’
She had just sat down in the living room when she heard voices, more like a voice, outside her door. It really wasn’t her business to know who it was but they were standing outside of her door, so she took it as her duty to know what was going on outside her apartment.
She walked to the door, abandoning her dinner and computer on the couch. She placed her head against the door, her ear straining to hear anything that was said. It didn’t take long for her to recognize the voice of her friend, Quinn. He sounded lighthearted when he said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
Y/n assumed it had been at least a minute or two since Quinn had spoken last, her ear starting to hurt from being pressed against the door for that long. When the man outside her apartment finally spoke again, his tone was much different than before, “I was just making a joke, Chloe.”
There was more silence before she could hear him again, “No you always blow things so out of proportion. It was just a fucking joke you don’t need to get so upset about it. I was listening to you talk and didn’t want to interrupt you.”
Once again silence, and y/n could only assume that Quinn was being yelled at from the other end of the line. She rolled her eyes, she never really liked Chloe, though she only met her once maybe twice. She was always mad about something, and usually, it was because of something stupid. She usually made underlying digs about y/n and her job, stating that she only took it because of the guys and how she wanted to meet someone.
She heard Quinn speak a few more times, mostly mumbling profanities and more thoughts that he wouldn’t even dare to say to her face. It was silent for quite some time after that, not even movement from the man outside as he just stood in front of his door staring at his phone dejectedly.
Y/n stood up and straightened herself out before opening the door slightly and peeking her head out. Quinn looked in her direction as he heard the door click open and gave her a small smile.
“You okay?”
Quinn only smiled before responding, “Tired of drama.”
She frowned, “Sorry.”
He just shrugged, fiddling with his keys in his pocket. Y/n turned away, looking back at the pot of Mac N Cheese that sat on her stove, ready to offer Quinn to come inside, but when she stuck her head back out into the hallway she noticed that Quinn had already made his way inside his apartment.
She sighed before stepping back into her entranceway and shutting the door behind her. All she could think about were the three words that she had been wishing to say since she met Quinn.
❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜
‘i'm in my room, it's a typical tuesday night
‘i'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like
‘and she'll never know your story like I do’
It was a game day for the Canucks meaning that not only was Quinn at Rogers Arena but y/n as well. She was wearing her fleece-lined leggings with a long-sleeve t-shirt, her Canucks cardigan thrown over it. She hadn’t had a chance to wash her hair so she just threw a beanie on top and decided it was good enough.
She had been in her office since the boys had left for the locker room, editing and sending pictures to the social team. She had her earbuds in, not wanting to disturb anyone if they were still at the arena working as well. She was listening to the playlist Quinn had made for her when she found out he played for the Canucks.
When y/n moved in next door to Quinn, he had already been playing with the team for two whole seasons. Quinn had been walking out of the apartment building when he noticed the girl struggling to carry up all of her boxes from the UHaul to her new apartment. He offered to help her, especially since it was a rare day where he didn’t have a game nor did he have practice.
He ended up offering her to have dinner at his place when he realized they were next door neighbors. That night she ended up explaining to him how she got her BA in art and design and got a minor in sports management. He was surprised when she told him she was starting a new job for his team.
『••✎••』
“Yeah, I got my bachelor's in art and design and then I decided to get a minor in sports management just because I was hoping that would boost my chances of getting a job for a sports team, which ended up happening.”
Quinn raised his eyebrows as he cut up his food, “Oh really? Who are you working for now?”
She swallowed the piece of food in her mouth before wiping her mouth with her napkin, “I’m working for the Vancouver Canucks. I was pretty surprised when they said they wanted me, I mean they are an NHL Team.”
Quinn choked on the water he had been drinking when she said the Canucks, “You’re working for the Canucks?”
She looked at him oddly as he coughed up the water, his eyes watering. She didn’t understand why he was acting like this, “Yeah? Is there a problem that I’m not aware of?”
“Um, I play for the Canucks.”
Her eyes widened, “No fucking way.”
“Yeah, Quinn Hughes, number 43.”
“Oh, that’s a weird coincidence, I guess. I mean how often does stuff like this happen?”
Quinn chuckled, “Not very.”
『••✎••』
Later that night Quinn had taken her phone and made a playlist for her of the songs that always made him feel better before a game or just in the morning when he was on his way to practice. Ever since then, she had listened to that playlist when she needed a pick-me-up, wanting something familiar to her.
She understood why Quinn liked this music before a game, it was upbeat and productive music for her. She was able to go into work mode when the song played, cleaning her office, editing photos, and adding graphics to them when the social team asked for some extra help.
When she was done she sighed when she saw it was 11. She knew she shouldn’t be driving this late at night but she had no other choice. She walked out into the hallway and walked outside the arena. It was cold in Vancouver, snow was falling on the ground. She wrapped herself tightly in her winter jacket as she made her way to her car but paused when she saw Quinn heading to his own.
He turned when he heard footsteps coming from behind him and waved when he saw who it was, “Hey, y/n/n!”
“Hi Quinny. Didn’t expect you to be staying here this late.”
The boy shrugged, “Had a lot to talk about tonight, I guess.”
She nodded, “Yeah. Sorry about the loss.”
Quinn just sighed and nodded, “Thanks. Do you want a ride home? I know you hate driving home in the snow, especially when it’s this late- wait what were you doing here this late?”
She blushed but it went unnoticed since her cheeks were already turning a slight shade of pink from the cold, “I was editing photos and doing some stuff for the social team. They like it when I help, which is weird because I didn’t even really go to school for that. Also, why do you know that I don’t like driving home in the snow?”
Now it was Quinn’s turn to blush, “I just remembered I guess.”
The two got in his car, Quinn reassuring her that they could go back in the morning to get her car. The first ten minutes of the ride back to their apartments were silent, the quiet sports channel of the radio playing in the background. When they brought up the Canucks loss from that night, she could tell Quinn got tense since his knuckles turned white as they gripped the steering wheel.
“You okay?”
Quinn relaxed a little at her voice but his body was still tense a little, “Yeah, just… I feel horrible right now.”
“Did Chloe ever text you? You know, to say something about the loss?”
That was a worse question. Quinn was annoyed at the question and also upset. She hadn’t texted him, in fact, the two hadn’t talked in five days with Chloe being across the country doing a string of photo shoots. He shook his head, “Nah, she’s probably sleeping, it’s like what? Three in the morning there?”
She just nodded her head and moved her head to look out of the window again. She watched as they passed buildings, still mesmerized by the snow and how it fell on the ground and the buildings. She looked back over at the boy to now see a sad look on his face, “I know how you feel, Quinn. And just know, it’s not your fault.”
“But it is though, right? I’m the captain, I’m supposed to make them better, I’m supposed to lead them to victory.”
“You can’t make them play better, Quinny. That’s what practice is for. You’re there to motivate them, inspire them, help them. You can’t make them do anything. Trust me, I know.”
Quinn looked at her in confusion, “You do?”
“Yeah, I was the captain of the girls' hockey team in college.”
“You played hockey?” Quinn asked, a grin making its way onto his face.
She shrugged, “Yeah. I was okay, I guess.”
“Okay? If you were the captain you had to have been more than okay.”
She nodded, “I was captain for only half of a season and then I got injured. Really set me back, especially during senior year. I was supposed to be out for almost the rest of the season. I could’ve played if we made the playoffs but we didn’t. And that was the extent of my hockey career.”
Quinn could see how sad she looked talking about this so he was quick to change the subject. The two were now talking about random nonsense, saying whatever was coming to mind until they reached the doors of their apartments.
“I should not have stayed at work that long. Tomorrow’s going to be a pain in the ass.”
“You’re telling me, I hate back-to-backs. We play well for the first one and then suck ass for the second because of how tired we are.”
“Well, you sucked ass today so maybe you’ll play well tomorrow.”
Quinn laughed at this, shooting her a smile, “Or maybe we’ll suck ass even more.”
❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜
‘walk in the streets with you in your worn-out jeans
i can't help thinking this is how it ought to be
laughing on a park bench thinking to myself
hey, isn't this easy?’
It was one of the rare off days that the two of them had and Chloe, as usual, wasn’t around. The two were quick to set up plans with one another and go walking around. When y/n walked out of her apartment she saw Quinn standing outside of his, getting ready to text her, “Hey.”
The boy looked up from his phone and smiled, “Hey.”
Y/n gave Quinn a once over, noticing his pair of worn-out jeans, “You need some new jeans there, Quinner?”
He laughs, “Probably, but I never have time to go shopping.”
She grins, “Well luckily we are going out so we can go get some things. Come on!” She grabs his arm and pulls him to the elevator, the two sneaking glances at one another as they wait for it.
Quinn offered to drive them around, but she immediately said no, wanting to be able to walk around. The boy was amused by her immediate response and nodded, “Okay okay. We can walk, you weirdo.”
“Hey! Thank you for noticing.” She smiles and the two walk around downtown Vancouver for a while, stopping at a clothing store to get new jeans for him.
About an hour later all Quinn could hear was the complaints coming from the girl, “I’m tired. My feet hurt. And ‘m cold.”
“I told you we could’ve taken the car.” He threw an arm around her shoulders, allowing her to lean some of her weight onto him.
“But I wanted to walk- Quinn look!”
He looked over to where y/n was now pointing and noticed the small ice cream shop on the corner, “Ice cream? It’s like 30 degrees out.”
She gave him a look, daring him to argue with her, “So?”
He held his arms up in surrender, lifting his arm from her shoulders leaving her feeling colder than before. His arm felt a little colder too, actually, the whole right side of his body felt colder as she moved away from him. They both looked at each other with awkward smiles on their faces before he ushered her to move forward, “Well come on then.”
She grinned and followed after him, a newfound pep in her step. When they got their ice cream, they made their way over to the park and sat down on one of the benches. Quinn was not fond of this idea, his whole body was cold and with him eating ice cream now, he sure as hell wasn’t getting any warmer.
They were talking about the upcoming banquet for the team, “I don’t understand these banquets. I don’t wanna go.”
Quinn whined like a little kid making y/n erupt in laughter. It was easy between them, they didn’t have to force conversation whenever they were together, they worked together so they saw each other almost all of the time, and they understood each other’s lifestyles, each other’s humor. Quinn could always talk to her about hockey which was nice especially when it was a hard game.
That’s all y/n could think about as they sat on the bench, how easy it was. She didn’t want to be selfish but truly, why was Quinn with her? She had never once heard her ask him how his game went, he always told her that she was busy at a premier or doing whatever she was doing while she was away. She always yelled at him over the phone, she acted possessive, truly she felt bad for Quinn. He deserved better.
❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜
‘and you've got a smile
that can light up this whole town
i haven't seen it in a while
since she brought you down’
Quinn’s smile was y/n’s favorite thing in the world. It made her smile, it made others smile, it was contagious. Every time she would be taking pictures on the ice and she would see Quinn with a smile plastered on his face she took a picture and usually saw others around him smiling as well.
Truth be told, it was rare for Quinn to smile, at least a full one. The most she got out of him lately was a small smirk or a tiny side grin when she would make a joke or any time they ran into each other really. She didn’t know if it was him just being him and not wanting to smile or if it was Chloe.
They fought a couple of weeks ago, probably the worst one yet. She had been granted a small leave from the photo shoot so she came back to see Quinn, which shocked him. He had come home late from the game, they had won by a landslide and Quinn had gotten his first win as captain. They went out for drinks, even inviting y/n and some of the wags to go with them. She accepted and made friends with some of the girls, some even joking that she would be one soon.
『••✎••』
Y/n might have had a little too much to drink, causing Quinn to have to drive her home, as usual. Quinn laughed as she stumbled down the hallway, talking about how she got so many pictures of him from tonight’s game, “I’m sure you did.”
She giggled, “I did! Believe me! They are all on my computer, I should make you my background.”
The boy blushed and shook his head, “Okay. I think you’ve had way too much to drink. Come on, where’s your keys?”
She could only mumble now, becoming increasingly tired as the thought of her bed on the other side of the door plagued her mind, “Pocket.”
Quinn reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the keys, keeping her upright with his arm wrapped around her waist. He unlocked the door and ushered her inside but before they even got a step into the apartment, Quinn’s door opened, “Quinn!”
Quinn looked surprised as he looked at his girlfriend standing in the entryway of his home, “Chloe? What are you doing here?”
“They gave me a break so I thought I would come and surprise you but I see you’re a little busy.”
A heavy glare settled on her face and Quinn looked apologetic, “Let me just get her inside then we will talk.”
Chloe only rolled her eyes and scoffed, walking back into his apartment. Quinn moved y/n to her bed, taking off her shoes and her jacket, “You need anything before I go?”
She shook her head. Quinn smiled at her before patting her calf and walking out of her apartment and into his own. It was only five minutes later that she could hear the screaming from the neighboring home. Y/n groaned at the noise before getting the urge to puke.
She ran into the bathroom and emptied her stomach into the toilet, groaning from the action. She leaned her head against the wall and listened to the sound of the two bickering back and forth. Ten minutes later she still sat there when there was a slam followed by footsteps outside in the hallway.
She frowned when she heard something being thrown across the room and sighed to herself, wishing she could help him.
『••✎••』
And ever since then, Quinn’s smiles had been slim to nonexistent even when they won a game, or he scored a goal. When they hung out and watched a comedy movie he didn’t smile, just a small upturn of his mouth and that was it.
Now it was the beginning of November and everyone was buzzing from the incredible start the Canucks had gotten off to. They were currently 8-2-1 going into the game against the Oilers and they were hoping to extend their win streak to four.
Y/n was walking around in her usual attire in the arena, gathering pictures for later. She had gotten plenty from warm-ups and during the periods, taking a small break during intermissions before heading down to get some in the tunnel.
Everyone erupted in cheers when the game was over, they had won 6-2. Y/n quickly put her skates on to head out for the stars of the game, trying not to get in anyone’s way as she did her job and they did theirs. She smiled when they announced Quinn as first star of the game, watching as he threw a stick over the boards, capturing the moment he turned around with a grin on his face.
All she could think about was that she was definitely going to use this in a video soon, even if Quinn did kill her for it.
❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜
‘oh, I remember you driving to my house
in the middle of the night
i'm the one who makes you laugh
when you know you're 'bout to cry’
It had been a hard game for Quinn. Not only was it hard for Quinn with it being the Hughesbowl, but it was a hard loss for him and the team. They had done so well in getting back in the game, scoring three in 3rd, but alas it wasn’t enough.
Quinn was taking it harder than anyone else, claiming that he should’ve done more for the team to win. He hadn’t done much in the game, blaming it on him for not doing enough for them. Before going out with his family he told them he had to do something, going to y/n’s office and knocking on the door.
He didn’t get an answer, mostly because y/n had already left since she was extremely exhausted from the amount of running back and forth she had to do during the game. Quinn left disappointed, meeting back up with his family for dinner.
He came back home and stopped in front of her door, “Y/n/n.”
Luckily, she had been right at the door, doing a little bit of cleaning around her apartment. She heard the whisper of her name, it was barely audible. She opened the door and smiled when she saw him, “Hey Quinn. What’s up?”
He didn’t say anything, just motioning with his hand if it was okay that he came inside. She stepped aside and the boy walked in, falling down on the couch. She approached him hesitantly, “Quinn? Are you okay?”
He looked up at her with tears in his eyes, “I’m not good enough am I?”
All the emotions came rushing to Quinn. Being constantly compared to his brothers, being constantly asked about them. Chloe was just using him for his money which he finally recognized a couple of days ago. He kept being told that he was overrated and that he shouldn’t be captain.
Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed and she walked over to him wrapping him in a hug, “What? Of course, you’re good enough Quinn. Who said that?”
Quinn shook his head, burying it into her shoulder, “I can’t escape it, y/n. Everywhere I go everyone is always comparing me to Jack and I’m so sick of it. It’s like I can’t do anything right. I let the team down, I should’ve done better tonight. Now everyone thinks I’m the worst Hughes and someone said Luke shouldn’t even be looking up to me. And they keep telling me I’m a failure.
Y/n’s heart broke at his confession but it shattered when he said the next words, “And no one loves me anymore, y/n/n. Chloe’s just using me, she never wanted me. God, I’m so stupid, I should’ve seen it coming.”
She rubbed his back and just let him let out all of his feelings. When it was silent for two minutes she pulled away from him and made her look into her eyes, “Listen to me, Quintin.”
He slightly smiled at the name, “You are no failure, Quinn. Believe me. You have been doing amazing this season, both personally and leading the team. You have led this team to 16 victories this season. And you led them to overtime twice and only lost one of them.”
“Yeah but I still lost them 8 games.”
“You couldn’t have done anything more than what you did, Quinn. You know what your guys’ record was last year through 25 games? 10-12-3. You won 6 more games this year. You have more goals at this point in the season than you did in the entire year last year, Quinn. Who cares that people, who are nobodies to you, are comparing you to Jack? You two have different experiences, you play two different positions, you play for two different teams. You do so much for Luke, I promise you. That kid will look up to you no matter what.”
Quinn’s eyes glistened with tears at her words, and the best thing was that he believed her and that was all that she could ask for. He nodded his head when she was done and slowly unwrapped himself from her, missing the embrace immediately.
She didn’t want him to be sad, or at least leave while sad, so she said the only thing that came to mind, “If it makes you feel any better. I think you’re the best looking Hughes.”
Quinn laughed loudly, wiping the tears from his eyes that were threatening to fall, “Thanks y/n/n.”
“Any time, you want some ice cream?” He only nodded and she got up to get it.
The two spent the next hour and a half eating ice cream on her couch watching a movie, before falling asleep on each other.
❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜
‘and I know your favorite songs
and you tell me 'bout your dreams
think I know where you belong
think I know it's with me’
It was a late night for both Quinn and y/n. The two were hanging out in her apartment after Quinn’s practice. They hadn’t had a game that night so they were on her couch watching whatever hockey game was on at that moment.
Y/n was sitting on her laptop editing some photos from the previous game, switching in between tabs quickly. Quinn was in the kitchen making dinner for the two of them after he offered. She could hear the sizzling from the pan and called out, “What the hell are you making over there?”
Quinn looked down to see the noodles and furrowed his eyebrows, “Noodles!”
“I thought you were cooking up a mean meal, but noodles? I let you into my house and allow you to make me dinner and you make me noodles?”
She walked into the kitchen with her laptop and sat down at the counter. Quinn looked over at her, offended, “Hey you said you didn’t care.”
She giggled, “I know. So Chef Quinn, what kind of noodles are you making?”
“Fettuccine.”
“Oh, so you’re making me fancy noodles. I’ll forgive you.”
“Why thank you m’lady. Whatcha doing over there?”
Quinn walked around the counter to look at her laptop, “Are you looking at pictures of my teammates?”
“If we’re being honest here, they are my main models.”
“And I thought I was your favorite.” He placed a hand to his chest before going back to check on the fettuccine.
“You are, I finished yours already. See there’s a folder that’s called ‘Captain Quintin’.” She spun her computer around and showed him, “Awe you love me.”
She shrugged, a blush rising to her cheeks, “Maybe…”
“You want to listen to some music?”
She nodded and pulled up Spotify on her computer, “What’s your favorite song?”
“And why do you want to know?”
She looked up at him with a deadpan face, “Are you shitting me?”
He smiled, “No.” He took the laptop and typed in his favorite song and added it to the queue, and then a few more after that.
“What’s your favorite?”
“And why do you want to know?”
“So I can add it!”
“It’s You Belong with Me.”
Quinn quirked an eyebrow but said nothing, making sure that the song played first. When it came on, y/n immediately started singing it and Quinn looked over at her with a smile. He could get used to this.
When dinner was done, she took her computer back to the living room and sat it down before walking back into the kitchen to sit down at the counter once more, making sure they could both see the TV.
Halfway through eating, Quinn looked over at her, “What’s your dream?”
She finished the piece of fettuccine she was eating and looked at him, “What do you mean?”
“Like what’s your main dream for life.”
She shrugged, “I don’t know. I really like my job so probably keeping that job is part of it. I want to have two or four kids. And I want them close in age or at least two of them are. Like the oldest would be close in age and the youngest would be close in age.”
“Why two or four? Why not three?”
“Because I had two older brothers and they were both like 8 years older than me and I always felt left out. I don’t want my kids to feel like that. I mean not that you are like that with Jack and Luke but at least you guys are close in age right? You guys like the same thing, hell you do the same thing for a living.”
Quinn nods, understanding what she was saying, “Yeah, I see that.”
“What about you? What is your dream, Quinn Hughes?”
He looked flustered, “I want to keep playing hockey, of course. I want kids but I don’t know how many. And I want a good partner. I want someone who understands that I have to travel a lot for work and how much pressure it is. I need someone who understands hockey and likes it. Chloe understands it, which is nice.”
She nods and smiles but saddened by the fact he still was with Chloe. She wasn’t good for him and she thought he was slowly starting to understand that. They continued to eat in silence, negative thoughts chewing away at both Quinn's and y/n’s minds.
❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜
‘can't you see that I'm the one
who understands you?
been here all along
so, why can't you see?
you belong with me’
Y/n stepped into the hallway, taking out the trash that had been overflowing in her garbage can for the past two days. She took a couple steps and saw Quinn stepping out of his apartment, “Hey.”
She noticed his tux he was wearing, he was fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves when she spoke, “Hi.”
The two stood in an awkward silence before Quinn asked, “Are you going tonight?”
It wasn’t that she forgot the banquet was tonight, it was more of the fact that she didn’t want to spend an entire night looking at Chloe wrapped around Quinn. She shook her head, “Nah, I’ve got some work to do.”
He nodded, confused a little since she had said earlier in the week that she planned on going. He shrugged it off as just a simple plan change and frowned when he looked her in the eyes, “Wish you were.”
She smiled and nodded, “I’m sorry to leave you to the wolves, Quinner.”
“You should be, it’s heartbreaking to know that my favorite person isn’t going to be there. How will I survive this evening?”
“You won’t, trust me.” She patted him on the back before going to walk to the garbage chute, “Here, I’ll just take it downstairs, I’m going that way anyways.”
She went to protest but Quinn was already taking it out of her hands and walking away, “Thank you.”
He waved her off, shooting her a smile, “Anytime.”
She walked back into her apartment and walked into her room, staring at the dress that hung on the back of her closet. She didn’t want to go, but after the comment that Quinn made she had a change of heart. She didn’t take long putting her makeup on, curling her hair as fast as possible. She threw on her dress and raced out the door, driving to the venue as quickly as she could.
❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜
‘standing by and waiting at your backdoor
all this time how could you not know, baby?
you belong with me
have you ever thought just maybe
you belong with me?’
Walking into the venue, y/n was nervous. She knew little to no people there mostly because her friends had already said they weren’t going or were going to be later than she was. She only knew a few guys on the team, including Quinn, and their wives or girlfriends.
She waved at some of the guys she walked past, lots of people making a clearing for her because of how she looked. Some of the guys that were single looked at her with a wide gaze, trying to decide if she was single or not.
The piece of paper she had burned a hole through her pocket as she walked. It took Quinn five minutes to notice that she was there, having turned around and locked eyes with her. His eyebrows raised in amusement, a grin making its way onto his face.
He waved bye to the group he was talking to and started to make his way over to the girl. He only got a few steps before Chloe took him by the arm, “Hey Quinn. I’m surprised you didn’t see me yet. You look so hot tonight.”
Quinn just smiled awkwardly before pulling away and continuing his previous path to the girl. Chloe looked at the two in shock and scoffed, walking away from the growing crowd. When he stood right in front of her he smiled, “I can’t believe you’re here.”
She nodded, “Yeah I had a change of heart.”
The boy couldn’t really make out any words, starstruck by how beautiful she looked. The only thing he could do was reach into his pocket and pull out a folded piece of paper. He straightened it out and showed it to her and she grinned, tears making their way into her eyes as she pulled out her own.
Everyone gasped in awe as they read the signs, both of them saying ‘I Love You’. He pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her cheek, “I can’t believe you remembered.”
“I remember everything about you, y/n/n."
❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜
‘you belong with me’
It had been a long night, the game had lasted longer than everyone had expected. The two now always drove to and from work together when they could. Quinn would stay after the game until she was ready to go and vice versa.
Right now, they were laying in Quinn’s bed in his apartment, Quinn watching as she edited pictures from tonight's game. He had an arm wrapped around her as she laid her head on his chest, her knees brought up so she could lay her computer on them.
He smiled when she kept getting pictures of him and he went to say something, “How many pictures of me do you have?”
She smiled, “You’re my boyfriend now, you are going to have a lot of pictures of you taken. Plus, I don’t think the fans would mine, I’m doing god’s work, Quinn.”
“What are you trying to say there? Do you think I’m cute?”
A blush rushed to her cheeks, “No, like I said. I’m just doing the fans a favor.”
Quinn shut her laptop, placing it on the nightstand, “I think you’re doing yourself a favor.”
She hid her face in his chest, “Maybe.”
He laughed and wrapped both of his arms around her, tightening his hold, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
⬂ 𝗩𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗼𝘂𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗖𝗮𝗻𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ⬂
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#sunny lune writes#nhl#hockey#nhl hockey#nhl imagine#hockey imagine#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x reader#qh43#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes fic
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Hi, so I've recently watched the Thanksgiving movie with Patrick Dempsey and it was sooo good. So I wanted to ask if you could please write something about Charles dating actress!reader who stars in a horror movie but even tho he is not a big fan of horror movies he agrees to watch it for her because he wants to be the best boyfriend so could you please write it with a mix of smau with nell verlaque as face claims 🫶🏻
supportive boyfriend ⋆ charles leclerc
pairing: charles leclerc x actress!reader
word count: 601
warnings: mixed smau and writing
a/n: i, too, am not a huge fan of horror movies (i hate them actually), also this was quite short but i hope you like it <3
masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd
yourusername just posted!
liked by addisonrae, charlesleclerc and 34,120 others
yourusername some pics from the set 😚😚
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user1 the bond they all have >>>>
addisonrae ❤️👻
user2 i love her so so much
user3 omg i watched the movie and it was amazing!!
user4 y/n the new scream queen frr
user5 wait tf is charles leclerc doing in her likes
user6 girl they're dating u didn't know? she went to promote one her movies to the miami gp last year, they met, become really good friends and they started dating. it was like a rom com truly
user5 that's so cute
user7 anyone expecting charles reaction for this new movie? we all know how fearful he is
user8 yess he's probably biting his nails trying to come up with ideas to not see it
And he was.
He was more than proud of his girlfriend and loved seeing her on screen. He always watched her latest movies on the plane when she wasn’t around. But this was the first horror movie she’d made, and the idea of watching it terrified him. He had always struggled with that genre; his two brothers loved horror movies and insisted on watching them when they were kids, which led to Charles having countless sleepless nights.
He had tried to convince Max or Arthur to watch it before him and tell him if it was too scary, but neither of them had time. He searched for summaries on YouTube, but it was still too early for people to have summarized it.
The only thing left was to mentally prepare himself. Be very aware that it was all fiction and that nothing would come after him once the movie ended.
He arrived at his girlfriend’s apartment, greeting her with a kiss and a box of her favorite sweets along with a rose.
“Aw, thanks, Charlie,” she hugged him and gave him a longer kiss. “Come on, I’ve got everything ready to watch it.”
Y/N was truly excited, and it showed on her face. She was very proud of this project and eager to show it to her biggest supporter at last. Charles knew this and had done everything possible to stay calm. But then he saw the setup: Y/N had turned down all the lights, leaving only a few candles lit, and the movie was already on the TV. The poster showed her covered in blood with a terrified expression.
“Are you ready?” Y/N said, sitting on the couch. Charles followed suit, and she snuggled up against his chest.
“Of course,” he said immediately. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Y/N looked at him with a little smile and kissed his cheek before pressing play. The first fifteen minutes were fine; they were introducing the plot and the characters. But then the tone of the movie started to darken, and Charles shifted nervously in his seat. Y/N noticed and intertwined her hand with Charles’, placing it on her chest.
Y/N realized how Charles flinched several times during the next few minutes, so she sat up and paused the movie.
“What’s wrong?” Charles asked instantly, completely confused though secretly relieved to have a moment to rest.
“Charles, you know I won’t be mad if you’re scared to watch the movie, right?” Y/N spoke with a sweet smile.
Charles pressed his lips together and looked down, just enough for Y/N to widen her smile and kiss him, cupping his cheeks with her hands.
“I’m not scared,” he said in the middle of the kiss. Y/N raised her eyebrows, said nothing, and exited the movie. “But don’t turn it off, I want to watch it, I swear!”
“Char…”
“No, let’s watch it, mon amour,” Charles insisted, taking control of the remote.
yourusername just posted a story!
[caption: guess who haven't slept a shit bc her bf is scared of his own hair]
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charlesleclerc IT WAS DARK AND I FELT SOMETHING IN MY FACE I WAS SCARED
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#f1#formula 1#noraverse 🫧#f1 fanfic#formula 1 one shot#f1 fluff#f1 fic#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fluff#formula one#charles leclerc smau#f1 social media au#cl16#cl16 x you#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 one shot
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SFW!Nightcrawler/GN!Reader
kdhbcjshbc I know I said I was gonna work on my Wolverine fic rn but I got sidetracked. This was originally going to be one long ass fic but since the first half ended up already over 4k works I decided to split it into two! It's basically a friends to lovers fic and I know the beginning is a bit of a jumpscare but they're both adults by the end of the fic I promise!!
Edit: I totally forgot to add!! Another special thanks to @blue-devil-of-the-lord for their help with german translations!
Tws: Mentions of animal cruelty in the circus. The ringleader is an asshole. I might have made Kurt's brother a bit of an asshole too sorry. Kurt's backstory is going to be kinda a combination of all the shit I've read/know so please be patient lol. I'll go back and add more tags if I think of any.
You were sixteen when you first met Kurt Wagner, although, he went by Kurt Szardos back then. You had never been to the circus before, and you hadn’t really paid to be there anyway. The show had already started when your father had taken you into the tent, sitting you down in an absent seat near the front. You didn’t want to get in trouble, but he had assured you it was fine. He had business to attend to, and told you that his future employer had given his blessing for you to sit and watch as your father handled business. After all, the two of you were a combo deal, and if you were to be working for the circus, you might as well know just what you were getting yourself into.
The circus tent was loud with laughter and the sounds of an awed crowd. It was a little overwhelming, to be honest. There were simply too many voices, too many lights- and yet when you finally set aside your grievances to try and enjoy the show, you still struggled.
The monkeys were annoyed with their handler, and every shout towards the crowd was an insult. The lion was young, and still afraid he wouldn’t make the jump through that vicious ring of fire- still healing from the burns he earned by brushing against the flames during the last performance. The doves from the magician act were a bonded pair, rejoicing the time and attention they were being given in the spotlight- and yet the male was already dreading their moments after the show and the dark, dirty cage they would kept in. The female was trying her best to cheer him up. Every animal was unafraid to keep their voice down, and you had never heard animals speak so loudly before. Part of you wonders if it was simply because they were so used to being ignored, they had grown used to letting their voice free- speaking from the heart and yet always being unheard.
You didn’t like this part of the circus much- and although the tricks these animals did were beautiful and amazing, you couldn’t manage to enjoy it like all the others around you did. You were frowning while all others were smiling and laughing so joyously- perhaps that was what drew him to you in the first place.
“And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present-” All but one of the spotlights have started to circle around the tent, the ringmaster standing completely within the only lingering light. “Our Flying Fiend… the Daredevil Demon… The one and only, Nightcrawler!” Every moving spotlight lands on a single man standing on one of the high beams. He’s smiling so brightly that you can see it from where you stand feet below him. He’s… strange. Elf-like ears, yellow eyes, and blue skin. A pointed tail sways eagerly behind him, and he takes a deep bow in front of you. His yellow eyes peer open as he does so, and for a moment, you swear he looks straight at you. You’re not entirely sure if he was wearing a costume or not anymore.
The performance starts out with one hell of a beginning. Every flip and jump is an incredible act of athleticism- and you find your eyes following Nightcrawler throughout every trick. Two other acrobats join the fray, and yet he’s the only one who catches your eye. At one point, they bring out these long swings- ones that sweep right above the audience with every swoop. There’s one swing for every side of the audience- and the acrobats switch with a dramatic flare every few swings.
On the very last switch, Nightcrawler is the one who swings over your seats.
He’s much more handsome up close, you realize, blushing even where you are now. You swear with every swing, he’s looking at you. It makes your heart flutter a bit, and on the very last swing of the night, he takes out a rose, pretending to throw it to multiple groups of screaming fans, before he swings again with a dramatic flair. Unlike the other times, he’s holding onto the swing with his feet and tail. He’s so close to the audience without touching a single hair on anyone's head- and then he gets to you.
You could have sworn that time had slowed, no matter how quickly it happened. The two of you finally lock eyes, and his hand stretches out. The rose falls into your lap, the air whooshing by your face as he’s gone just as quickly. You pick up the flower, a genuine smile finally on your face, and you find that all the other voices of excitement around you have finally drowned out.
That was the first and last time you had watched the show at Herr Getmann's Traveling Menagerie. After that, you and your father were behind the scenes instead of in the stands.
It had been about a week and a half since you and your father had been walking to the circus to work. He knew every path and every road like the back of his hand, insisting the two of you walk instead of drive to save money on gas, and he just so happened to know a few shortcuts through the woods. Usually, you were able to rely on him to guide you, but today you woke up late. Your father had already left without you- which you’re not entirely sure wasn’t intentional. He did leave a note for you, giving you instructions on how to get there on your own.
Needless to say, that didn’t actually work out too well. A thirty to forty-five-minute walk had quickly turned into an hour, and then an hour in a half. You were trying your absolute best to follow the instructions, but this was hardly a cohesive path in the middle of the woods. It wasn’t exactly easy.
You’re beginning to give up at this point, stumbling through the brush as you try to find the general direction you think you’re supposed to be going. Your feet have started to ache and blister, and you find yourself beginning to lose hope.
“Hello!” If the sound of the voice hadn’t scared the shit out of you, the strange man hanging upside down from the branches of a wild Crab apple tree certainly did. You shriek in terror, your feet slipping as you fall back on your butt. You hold your hands over your heart as the strange acrobat from the circus jumps down in a panic, holding his even stranger hands out in front of him.
“Oh- Es tut mir Leid! I am so sorry! I had not meant to startle you!” He says frantically, kneeling down to help you up in a very gentlemanly manner. You’re wide-eyed as you look at him, letting him help you up without a fuss. Up close and in broad daylight like this, it was very clear that he certainly was… Blue, to say the least.
“I-it’s okay.” You stutter. He smiles warmly at you, tail swaying excitedly behind him, and it simply confirms to you that he wasn’t wearing a costume at all. You open and close your mouth a few times, trying to find some words. He blinks at you as you do so, patiently (if not obliviously) waiting for you to speak.
“You’re from the circus, aren’t you?” Is what you finally land on, still a little startled from before. The acrobat nods eagerly.
“I am. I'm happy that you remember me! I’ve been told I leave a bit of an impression.” He jokes, and you find yourself smiling again. He was charming, for someone so strange. “The farrier is your father, right?” He asks, taking you by surprise. You didn’t think that anyone had taken the time to notice you, your father’s shadow in every sense of the word. It makes you feel a little funny, but surely he didn’t remember you from that first performance, right? Maybe he’s just very observant of those who come in and out of the circus stables.
“Well, yes.” You affirm, starting to anxiously fiddle with your fingers. “I didn’t really expect you to know who I was, to be honest.” He lets out a happy chuckle at that.
“Of course, I know! A face like yours is hard to forget.” He chirps, sending you a wink. “But I must say, You’re a bit far from the circus, Meine Freundin.” You make a bit of a grimace at that, and he sends you a questioning smile.
“Yes, well… To be frankly honest, I’m a bit lost.” You admit, eyes locked solely on the ground, taking the time to notice the various fruits that had fallen from the tree and gone bad. You can see the acrobat’s tail swaying in your peripheral vision, and still feel his eyes on you. It makes you blush a little from embarrassment, a little flustered that you had become so lost.
“I’ll gladly show you the way, I was just about to go back myself.” Your head snaps up to look at him in bewilderment at that, before you realize just how lucky you are to have found him out here. He picks up a basket of crab apples that you hadn’t noticed before, and you offer to carry it for him as a thanks for guiding you back. He won’t let you no matter how hard you try, certainly the first gentleman you’ve met in quite a while. He tells you that your profuse thanks is more than enough for him.
The two of you get to talking while you make the long walk back to the circus, and he tells you about his mother, Margali Szardos, and how she had asked him to wander over this way to pick the fruit from the crab apple tree for her. She was fairly adamant about him doing so, telling him that it was of great importance, but he didn’t quite understand why fruit could be such a pressing matter. He’s very funny, and you find yourself greatly enjoying his company. The two of you feel like close friends already, and you hadn’t even realized that you didn’t even know his real name until you’ve already arrived at the plethora of brightly colored circus tents.
“I’m so sorry, I don’t believe I ever asked for your name.” You say, the awkwardness of the question not even registering with how happy you are to simply be in his company. He sends you another dazzling smile before he holds his hand, offering it for you to shake.
“I’m Kurt.” He tells you. You introduce yourself as well, happy to have made a new friend today. You hear someone calling your name from not too far away, and spot your father waving his hand at you, calling you over.
“I have to go, but thank you so much for your help!” You say, once again thanking him adamantly.
“Walking with you was lovely. I hope to see you more often.” Kurt says, right before you go. You can’t help but blush a little, unable to keep yourself from smiling widely. You couldn’t help it! He was just so handsome in both looks and personality, the strangeness of his skin color and three-fingered hands being something you easily begin to care less and less about.
“Likewise.” You agree, almost completely flustered. Your father calls for you again, and you quickly say your goodbyes before you rush off to him. You find yourself in a rather good mood for the rest of the day, despite your sore and blistered feet from the long journey here.
Many months flew by very fast while you and your father worked for the circus, and you and Kurt had grown very close. He visited you when he could sneak away from practice and performances, and although you were more concerned about him staying out of trouble, you began to appreciate the company beyond the way a simple friend would, finding yourself blushing and flustered while around him.
A fact that hadn’t changed throughout your time there was the treatment of many of the animals. All of them had a grievance or problem of some sort, and it broke your heart to have to stand by without the ability to help them. In the eyes of the circus, you were just the Ferrier’s assistant, nothing more. At first, you were, in the very least. Some of the animal trainers had noticed how good you were with the horses, and how even the most skittish of the equine animals would calm around you and let you handle them without any trouble. Things like that don’t go unnoticed, and soon enough many of the animal handlers had heard about your “gift” with the live attractions. Part of this was due to your Father’s constant bragging about your special skill with animals, although you were the only one who knew the truth about it all. After a while, the frustrated animal trainers began to ask you to assist them with the other animals as well, noting how it hadn’t taken very long before they were at ease around you. The size of cages and the attitudes of the trainers were something you couldn’t change very much, but even if you could only help out with a few things here and there, you were happy- and the animals were too.
Today, you were doing your best to handle an absolute disaster.
Tonight’s animal show was a new set, with lots of loud noises and the pops of fireworks launching far, far above the tops of the tallest tent. With so many new lights and colors, they should have known something was bound to go wrong- and boy, did it. The smallest pony in the show was a stunning Blue Roan mare named Bubbles- and unlike many of the other mares in the show, she was very skittish. Her trainers mostly knew to be careful around her, but that consideration slipped under the radar when it came to all the new changes. Her show went by relatively seamless, with only a few issues here and there- but it was enough to put her on edge. When the fireworks finale went off as she was being led out of the main tent, it was just her last straw.
I don’t like them. I don’t like the loud noises. Bubbles is pacing anxiously in the back of her tiny stable, still having trouble settling down. Every bump or noise from outside and even the neighboring stables sends her spiraling again. You’re standing at the gate, giving her a cautious amount of room to pace and worry so that she doesn’t feel trapped by you.
“I know, Bubbles, It’s okay.” You whisper. You’re so concerned for her, and angry with her trainers, too. It makes your blood boil to remember how one of them had gotten frustrated with her tonight, eventually giving up on settling her completely and thrusting her reins at you, telling you to “take this stupid thing somewhere else!”. The lack of patience and understanding makes you rage, but you know you can’t say a thing if you want to keep this opportunity to work with the animals.
Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so scared. I’ll do better, I promise. Bubbles says again. The words almost bring tears to your eyes, hurting for her. You hate seeing her so scared.
“Hey, hey. Easy, I’m not mad at you, I promise. You’re safe with me, okay?” You tell her, starting to slowly approach her as her pacing begins to slow. She whinnies once, huffing as she tries her best to calm herself down. Eventually, she begins to settle, letting you get close enough to reassuringly pet her nose and flank. She leans into the comforting touches, finally beginning to relax after being high-strung for so long. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a minute, enjoying each other's company as you hear the sounds of the circus begin to dwindle and die.
I’m sorry for all the trouble. Bubbles apologizes quietly.
“You haven’t been any trouble, Bubbles, I promise.” You say soothingly. “Do you want to talk for a bit before I go?” She nods her head, and that’s all the answer you need.
The two of you talk for a long, long while as you take off her tack and brush her down, pampering her as you ready her for bed. You talk about food, trainers, the new horseshoes she’s getting next week- anything at all. Even Kurt comes up in conversation, eventually.
I like him. She says decisively. He sneaks me leftover apples. You can’t help but giggle at that, already having a hunch that he had been giving the horses treats while no one was looking. Not that you really mind, it was nice to know that they had someone other than you and your father looking out for them.
“I agree. He’s very nice.” You say, smiling brightly. She noses you in response.
I think he likes you, too. You instantly blush at her words, shaking your head at her with a flustered smile. You honestly doubted he saw you as much more of a friend, even if the two of you have had somewhat sensitive moments sometimes.
“I really don't think-”
“Guten Abend!” You can’t help but shriek at the greeting, knowing just who it was as you whip around in the stable, spotting Kurt leaning against the gate with a cheesy smile.
“Kurt! You have got to stop scaring me like that!” You scold, throwing the dandy brush at him. He pretends to be wounded, holding a hand over the spot it hit him dramatically as he laughs.
“I’m sorry. Seems I couldn’t help myself.” Kurt says, and you lightly slap his arm again for good measure when you can reach him, trying and failing to keep yourself from smiling at his antics.
“You could have startled Bubbles. It took forever for me to get her settled after the show today!” You scold him again, smile not letting up for a second. Kurt smiles a little nervously at that before he looks behind you to see the completely unbothered Bubbles.
He wouldn’t have- I saw him come in. She says. You wave her off discreetly. That’s not the point, Bubbles! But even without being able to understand her, Kurt seems to get the hint that she wasn’t even a tad bit bothered and jumps the gate with such ease you can’t help but be a little jealous of his athleticism.
“Then I’ll apologize to you too, Bubbles.” Kurt cooes, lavishing her forehead and muzzle with pets and kisses that she happily receives. You watch him with a smile, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. You knew you were absolutely gone on him, this little crush of yours having developed into true and deep feelings of affection. But how could you not? Even watching him right now it’s clear to see the kindness and support he gives to every living thing regardless of status or species. That meant more to you than you think he might ever know.
“How was it out there?” You ask eventually, leaning against the side of the stable.
“So-so. The crowds have started to react less to our sets. Mother says that we’ll get better reactions if we change the performance a little.” Kurt shrugs, tail tucked tightly around his own waist- something you noticed he did every time he entered the stables so that he wouldn’t startle the horses with the snake-like limb. You frown, eyebrows furrowing at the news. You knew that they had been trying some new things for the animal shows, but the acrobatics had always been so incredible and immaculate. It’s strange to you that anyone would look on at that part of the show with a straight face.
“And how does Ringmaster Getmann feel about that?” You ask. Bubbles huffs through her nose angrily at his name, and you join Kurt by her side, petting her shoulder. You can see that Kurt is frowning, not responding to your question as his eyes stay squarely on Bubbles.
“...Kurt?” You’re really worried for him now, knowing that the look on his face can only mean that nothing good will come of it.
“It’s nothing for you to worry over.” Kurt responds after a minute. “He wants us to do riskier tricks, but Mother keeps telling him it’s not the best idea. He’s rather adamant about it though.” His voice is soft while he delivers the news, and it makes you wonder how on earth he’s not angry about the blatant disregard for both his and his adoptive siblings’ safety.
I knew I had a good reason to hate that man! Bubbles speaks angrily as she flicks her tail, Kurt being the only reason she hadn’t bucked or stopped in frustration. Your worry begins to deepen as you think everything over.
“I- You won’t get hurt, will you?” You ask, worry clearly spilling into your tone. “The animal injuries are already bad enough, but if he starts risking human lives-”
“I’ll be fine, Schatz.” Kurt cuts you off, stepping away from Bubbles to take your hands in his own. The nickname had a tendency to make your heart flutter, but right now all you could feel was the anxiety of an impending disaster. “Please don’t worry for me.” He tells you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. You’re breath catches at the act, and when you look at him there's a fond, reassuring look on his face. Still, it did not ease your worries in the slightest. Kurt takes a step closer to you, his hand cupping your face now instead.
“I can’t help it. I worry because I care.” You whisper. Kurt smiles softly at you, leaning in to rest his forehead against your own. The two of you sit in silence for a minute, reveling in the fond moment. Still, your lips tingled with how close the two of you are, eyes darting down to the shape of his lips as you ran your tongue across your own. Kurt’s pretty eyes don’t let the action go unnoticed. He begins to lean in to close the gap between the two of you, and your eyes flutter closed as he does so.
“Kurt.” The voice startles the two of you, separating immediately. It’s Stephan, Kurt’s adoptive brother. He’s not only startled you and Kurt, but Bubbles too. She spooks in the tiny stables, rearing up before you immediately turn to her, doing your best to calm her down once again. She’s breathing a little hard, but she’s not pacing again, which was much better than before, although you were certainly peeved to have backtracked already.
“You know you’re not supposed to linger around the stables after the show,” Stephan says to Kurt, who only frowns. The two had begun to form a rather strained relationship as of late, but neither of you would have expected him to go out of his way to catch Kurt like this. You glance back at them as you finish settling Bubbles, staying silent as the two of them share a look. Kurt’s tail sways a bit, and you can see Stephan roll his eyes at Kurt before he nods his head to the door and begins to leave. Kurt sighs deeply before he turns to you with a remorseful look.
“I’ll see you soon- promise,” Kurt says, taking your hands in his own and giving them a reassuring squeeze. You’re frowning, unable to help it at this point due to the moment being ruined. Kurt leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead before he leaves, and you smile a bit. He gives you another quiet goodbye before he jumps the gate again, and follows his brother out.
You're left standing there with Bubbles, and despite Kurt’s promises, you have an uneasy feeling in your chest. You want to blame it on the disappointment of the night, but you can't help but wonder when you'd actually get to see him again.
#x men#x men 97#x men comics#x men x reader#x men 97 x reader#kurt wagner#nightcrawler xmen#xmen nightcrawler#nightcrawler x reader#nightcrawler#kurt wagner x reader#marvel fanfiction#marvel fandom#marvel x men#marvel x reader#marvel reader insert
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I do find it quite insane that people think Bridgerton season 3 was too rushed. I really think Colin's every plot line has been to bring him closer to Penelope. I think there's plenty of gifsets already that show the little affectionate or longing looks between Colin and Penelope starting from season 1. But I don't even mean those when I say that Colin is written in a way that perfectly matches Penelope's fat girl romance story. People skirt around calling Penelope a fat girl and therefore her romance one that's strife with struggles around being fat because somehow that is what they think will betray their fatphobia.
But it's not fatphobic to recognize the way that a fatphobic society has fucked with both Colin and Penelope's heads. Colin's incredibly strong, incredibly illogical crush on Marina Thompson, Penelope's cousin, suddenly makes so much sense when you contextualize it as his feelings for Penelope being misguided onto the closest eligible target. (It honestly even felt that way when I watched season 1 as it was coming out.)
Because here's the thing about Penelope, right? That society has deemed her ineligible. A fact that we know Colin is painfully aware of by the end of season 2 when he declares to his 'friends' that he would never court her. The same friends he calls shallow to their faces in season 3.
So was it surprising that Colin's whole arc in season 3 was about shaking off the shackles society has on his decisions and more importantly, his desires. Because Colin isn't just trying to get by with society's expectations like Anthony was, no. He was trying to change himself to like it. He was trying to buy into it. Because society made him miserable before and maybe embracing it would make him happier.
There's a reason he's so passionately anti-Whistledown. She represents those very shackles of society that ironically keeps him from acknowledging his feelings for Penelope. Colin has been in love with Penelope for just as long as she has been in love with him, if not more. But Penelope wasn't the only one who thought that was impossible simply because she was fat.
In fact, this is a very common fat girl dating experience, you meet men who would absolutely fuck you, heck they can even love you in their own way but they're not ready to face the shame of other's judgement in acknowledging you. Colin's every appearance on this show starting from season 1 has been setting him up to release those shackles. He wanted to for Marina, but his feelings for her were not genuine. He chased her out of obsession, not love and I think that distinction was infinitely clear to Marina.
She could never inspire this soft, sensitive man to harden his backbone in a way that Penelope can. His love for Marina brought him anguish, his love for Penelope brings him joy.
The Duke and Daphne barely had a conversation that entire season, Kate and Anthony met and created all of this havoc for what? Colin and Penelope are the only two, whose emotional connection has been established over the course of three whole seasons. Lots of criticisms can be made of their romance I'm sure, but rushed? Listen, I know why people think it's rushed and while season 1 and season 2 Colin would really really care that you think Penelope is unfuckable but season 3 Colin doesn't have a single fuck left to give.
#bridgeton season 3#bridgerton#polin#colin bridgerton#penelope featherington#I have watched all of season 3 thrice already#and did a s1 and s2 polin rewatch#fat girl romances will never not be special to me
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Time Of Our Lives || Part 4
Part 4:
There was a hand on her boob.
When Liana opened her eyes in complete darkness, it took her a moment to remember where she was.
Art was sick. She was in his room because she wanted to make sure he fell asleep; in reality, she fell asleep herself. Now their legs were tangled, his heavy breaths tickled her neck where his head was buried, one of his hands was holding her waist, and the other, well... it was on her chest.
She knew it wasn’t intentional. None of what happened in the last day was intentional. That’s not her relationship with Art. It’s a glitch in time. One of those moments where the universe collapses into itself and needs to fold a bit to straighten the course. She considered waking him with a sharp movement but remembered how miserable and wretched he looked yesterday. He would cry from embarrassment if she woke him now, with them in this position.
So she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and decided to deal with the problem in the morning, if necessary. She tried to remind herself that the more Art slept, the faster he would recover, and she could return to her routine.
With these thoughts and his breaths as a grounding factor, she managed to fall asleep. When she opened her eyes again, Art was gone.
'The fever broke. Thanks for everything, Li, went for a run' was the message waiting for her on her phone, making her smile unconsciously.
The glitch was over.
The last two months were harder than Art was willing to admit.
The studies and training were grueling. The routine was exhausting.
And Tashi was still in a relationship with Patrick.
Art didn’t know why it bothered him so much. Well, of course he knew. Tashi was the most beautiful girl he had ever met.
But it’s not like he lacked girls around him who were just waiting for him to say hello to jump into his bed.
Maybe he was thinking about it more than usual because lately, Liana didn’t have a free moment. She was stressed from exams and choosing her major. She didn’t tell him that, he just knew her.
Liana was the most calculated person he knew. She made long-term plans, for no real reason. When Patrick would come, she would plan the time she spent with them two weeks in advance. Art knew the uncertainty about her major weighed on her. He also didn’t know how to help her. His life was clear to him; Tennis.
Tennis, family, and Patrick. Everything was clear, easy, and unchallenging.
Patrick was supposed to visit in two days, and Art would never say it out loud because that’s his best friend, but he hated it. He knew Patrick was coming to be with Tashi, that he would waste Liana’s time, and in the end, he wouldn’t have time to sit with him at all. Maybe that’s what made him approach Tashi while she was collecting balls from the court after practice.
“Art...” she said in a dubious voice, not fully understanding what he was doing there. Their schedules almost never overlapped. Their practices were at different times. He thought of inviting her to eat first, using some of his cafeteria points, but he remembered that Liana preferred their cafeteria over the one near her campus.
“Do you need help?” he offered instead.
“Sure, why not.” Tashi shrugged, her voice unconvincing. She knew he wasn’t just here. She knew Patrick was supposed to arrive and that Art was going to say something that would anger her. “I see you want to say something, so just say it.” She placed the basket of balls down, folding her arms.
“Okay.” He sighed, moving towards the bench as she walked after him. “Patrick is coming the day after tomorrow.” He said.
“I’m aware.” Her answers were sharp. She didn’t have time to waste on him and his circling around without saying what he wanted. “Do you want to plan a surprise party or something?” she asked jokingly, trying to move the conversation along.
“Why are you still with him?” He looked her in the eyes, deciding to be direct.
“Excuse me?” She raised an eyebrow, her face changing. She was no longer curious; she was angry.
“He’s in love with Liana.” Art said automatically. He seemed as surprised by the words that came out of his mouth as she did. Patrick is in love with Liana? No way. At least he didn’t think so. So why did he say that? Now the thought that Patrick wanted Liana while he was with Tashi, the most beautiful girl he knew, wouldn’t leave his head. Tashi continued to look at him without saying anything, then chuckled, making him raise an eyebrow.
“No, Art. You’re in love with Liana.” She rolled her eyes, her level of anger rising.
“Absolutely n—” he started to defend himself but was immediately cut off.
“And even if he does. Even if he wants to marry Liana. Even if he’s sure she will be the mother of his children. What do you want from me?!” She shouted the end of the sentence, causing Art to shrink for a moment. “Aren’t you supposed to be his best friend?” she asked, starting to walk away.
“I’m not in love with Liana.” Was all he managed to say in response, “She’s my best friend,” he muttered, quickly following her, not fully understanding why he was explaining this.
“Art,” Tashi suddenly stopped, close to him. “I suggest you open a dictionary to check what ‘best friend’ means and when you understand, don’t cry that you lost yours.” She ended the conversation (which led nowhere) and only pushed him further from his goal and confused him about what the goal even was. Why did he start this?
He hadn’t seen Patrick for too long.
Or Liana.
When Liana entered her room, around midnight, Patrick and Art were there.
“Give me the key!” She extended her hand towards Art, who just smiled. They both knew he wouldn’t give it. “I could have been with someone. I could have entered here with someone, and at the peak of the moment when we enter my room, you’re here!” She raised her voice, but not too loud because the hour didn’t allow it. “I’m not joking, Art, give me the key. You can’t come in here whenever you feel like it! Tell him!” She turned the end towards Patrick. Talking to him as if it were completely natural for him to be at Stanford in the middle of the night.
“Who is this mysterious man she could have entered with at night, Art? I thought you were keeping an eye on her,” Patrick’s voice was amused, but the thought of Liana bringing a random guy to her room didn’t appeal to him.
“That’s why I have a key, to scare off guys she meets in the library. Once, I saw her hanging out with someone who wore Crocs,” he said to him. They talked about her as if she wasn’t there, knowing full well it was the thing she hated most.
“Out. Both of you, out!” She crossed her arms under her chest.
“Hey, Amanda the lowbreaker, are you going to hug me and say hi, or just yell at me?” Patrick understood that her nerves were frayed at this stage of the day.
“Amanda?” Art asked, not understanding what they were talking about.
“She knows.” Patrick didn’t look at Art for a second. He only saw Liana. Her dark hair, identical to his, was tied in a messy ponytail, and there was a coffee stain on her shirt. She looked exhausted, yet she approached him and wrapped her arms around his waist, causing him to close his eyes for a moment. If Patrick could pinpoint the smell he loved most in the world, he would say it was citrus and roses. Liana’s scent. To him, it characterized summer from the moment he met her; smelling it in the middle of the year felt like a bonus. Like a pay raise for a job well done. Even though he knew nothing about his job was going well.
Art cleared his throat, and they separated.
“What are you doing here?” She really sounded exhausted. Like she hadn’t slept in a while.
“I told you I was coming. I put my things in Tashi’s room and wanted to say hi before you go to sleep. We’ll hang out tomorrow, okay?” he asked at the end, his voice begging for a positive response. He couldn’t leave without making the most of the time he had with her. Time she would have to allow.
Art watched the dynamic between them from the side. Thinking about what he said to Tashi; Patrick is in love with Liana. Patrick is in love with Liana. Patrick is in love with Liana. Like a mantra he couldn’t stop hearing for two days. Now also seeing it. Patrick is in love with Liana? Maybe it’s a crush? Art tried to remember how Patrick was with the girls at school, did he hug them for too long? Did they have private jokes? How did he look at them?
“I don’t know if I can, Pat, I have an exam in two days...” her voice was apologetic.
"Then I'll just sit next to you while you study. Come on, you can't say no to me." His smile was genuine, teeth showing. Not a smirk.
"Alright..." Liana shrugged, her tone half-defeated, half-amused. "But you have to promise to behave and let me study," she said with absolute seriousness.
"I'll behave however you want, Amanda. I'll be the quietest, I'll be so good for you. The best boy in the world," he winked. It was objectively funny banter. Tho Art wasn't amused.
"Okay, fuck off, both of you. Now. I want to sleep!" she declared, giving Art a small push, shaking him out of his daze.
Patrick is in love with Liana.
Hey there, me again. Is posting once a day a bit too much? I hope you're enjoying it. Tell me what you think about the characters so far. Also, tell me if you want to be tagged for the next part. Have a great weekend ❤️
taglist:
@swetearss
#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson#patrick zweig#patrick zweig x reader#challengers fic#tashi duncan
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they're both fucking good | m.s. |
matt sturniolo x fem!reader x fem!friend
summary: y/n has spent the day and night drinking at the beach with her best friends jasmine and matt. after getting back to matt's, heavily intoxicated and freezing, she is desperate to get warm. who would have thought that desperation would lead her down the path it did.
warnings: SMUT; threesome (f/f/m); oral (f/m receiving); established friendship; face sitting; facials; dirty talk; unprotected sex; talk of alcohol consumption; 18+
notes: holy fuck i FINALLY finished this. i know i told you guys this would be out friday night...and i know that it's now sunday...but i let the weekend get away from me (oopsie). i also have absolutely ZERO experience with threesomes (both writing them AND participating in them lol) so i needed some time to make sure i did my research. as usual i still don't feel super confident in my writing of this one, but regardless i hope everyone enjoys!!!
disclaimer: i would feel icky if i posted a f/f/m threesome fic without making it clear that i am absolutely not trying to minimize wlw experiences (ESPECIALLY during pride month!!!) by adding a man to the mix. as a bi woman myself, i understand how common it is for straight men to fantasize about having sex with two women while simultaneously disregarding the significance of their sexuality. my intentions when writing this fic were not to promote this mindset in any way, it was simply because i love men and women. i would also like to make it clear that my two female characters, though not confirmed in the writing, are bisexual and not simply participating in the threesome to appease the male character. okay that's all, lots of love <33333
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
“Oh my god I am so fucking cold!” You exclaimed through chattering teeth as you walked through Matt’s front door. “Me too, holy shit.” Replied your friend, Jasmine, as she began climbing the stairs leading to the main floor of the house. From behind you, you heard Matt chuckle before locking the front door behind you three. “I told you both that you shouldn’t have left your change of clothes here if you were planning on staying at the beach past sunset.” He said as you and Jasmine scampered into his room where you had left your overnight bags.
You, Jasmine, and Matt had spent the entire day — and much of the night — drinking at the beach with a big group of your mutual friends. The three of you had met at a party a few months ago, and had all bonded over your shared appreciation for being highly anti-social in large groups. Because of this, the three of you had created your own little sub-group within your circle of mutual friends, hence why you all had ended up leaving the beach before anyone else had — including Nick and Chris.
You and Jasmine hurried into Matt’s room, shivering with wet hair and not much clothing on besides bikinis, wondering why the copious amount of liquor that you both drank hadn’t kept you warm. Without wasting any time, you began stripping your damp articles of clothing off to replace them with the hoodie and sweatpants you had left in Matt’s room.
As you lifted your bikini top over your face, Jasmine dissolved into a fit of laughter. “Matt, no! Don’t look!” She said through her giggles, covering her own face with her hands but peering sneakily through her fingers. Her attempt at preserving your modesty was unfortunately too late, as Matt was already standing at his closet, gazing at your chest as you continued to strip. Too drunk and concerned with the idea of getting into warm clothes, you truly didn’t care if you were stripping in front of your two best friends.
Just as you pulled your oversized hoodie over your head, Jasmine’s muffled voice filled your ears. “Wait a minute.” She said, walking over to you with an expression on her face that you couldn’t quite read. “You have your nipples pierced?” Her words came out slurred, and you feigned a smile as you nodded. “Yeah, I’ve had them done since I was eighteen.” You replied shyly. Curiosity flashed across her face as she began toying with the hem of your hoodie. “Can I see them again?” She asked with a slight smirk that you returned with your own before placing your hands on top of hers to help her lift your sweater.
Immediately, her eyes drifted to your tits, and you watched as they flickered rapidly from one to the other. “They’re so pretty, Y/n.” She said breathily, and you giggled nervously in response. The two of you were so transfixed in your own world — Jasmine still captivated by your tits and you immersed in her beautiful facial features — that you both nearly forgot that Matt was standing just a few feet away; watching the entire interaction in shock.
His feet were planted to the floor, and his body felt like a cement statue as he could do nothing but stare at his two best friends in their intimate moment. Even though part of him felt like he shouldn’t be watching you two, his eyes were glued to your places a few feet in front of him, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t pry them away. So he continued to watch as Jasmine moved her hands from the hem of your sweater to your ribcage, before eventually using her thumbs to lightly brush against the metal bars on your nipples. He felt the front of his pants tighten when your eyes fluttered closed from the sensation, and finally his jaw dropped when Jasmine brought her lips up to meet yours.
Your breath hitched from the shock of feeling your friend’s mouth on yours, but the shock quickly dissolved into lust as she continued to swirl her thumbs across your sensitive nipples. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you began deepening the kiss as a way to assure her that what she was doing was okay, and you felt a soft hum leave her lips in acknowledgment. As your tongues fought for dominance in one another’s mouths, you relished in the distinct taste of peppermint in her delicate mouth.
Both of your hands began frantically travelling across each other’s bodies as you both grew needier, and the two of you began hurriedly stumbling towards Matt’s bed in the middle of the room. Jasmine laid you down on the soft mattress — your head on the very edge of the bed — and immediately straddled you, never breaking the kiss. Your hands moved to her own bikini-clad chest, where you effortlessly lifted the material to free her tits before immediately grabbing one in each of your hands.
Matt continued to watch the two girls play with each other, his mind scrambled by what was happening in front of his very eyes. His cock throbbed inside his jeans, and he was desperate to get some relief. He palmed himself lightly above his clothing, but as the girls began grinding against each other in his bed, he knew that he was going to need more alleviation than that.
Just then, Jasmine detached her lips from your neck and dragged her eyes from you to the space behind your head. Following her lead, you turned your head to the side and immediately cast your gaze on Matt. Even from a few feet away, you could see his chest rising and falling rapidly. If his flushed cheeks and wild eyes weren’t enough to let you know how he felt about the scene in front of him, the sizeable bulge in the front of his jeans confirmed it.
“You okay with this Matty?” Jasmine’s tone was light and mischievous, but you felt your own heart flutter at the reminder that Matt was able to see all of you in this way. He shifted his pants slightly but nodded eagerly, enjoying the view but clearly growing antsy from just watching. You smiled at him once his travelling eyes moved from your half naked body to your eyes, and you felt a wave of confidence overtake you. “You coming?” You asked, and watched as his eyes widened slightly. Above you, Jasmine giggled seductively before reaching her arm in his direction; encouraging him. Even though he had seemed shocked, he didn’t hesitate for long before walking over to the two of you on the bed.
Matt positioned himself in a sitting position at the edge of the bed only inches from where the two of you were laying. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you hooked a finger in his shirt collar and pulled him down towards you. Immediately, he attached his lips to yours, kissing you deeply as Jasmine’s mouth began moving across your body. Everything about Matt’s body language and actions told you that he was starving for more, and you didn’t hesitate to gently palm him through his jeans.
After leaving sloppy kisses along your stomach, Jasmine crawled back up to your face, at which time Matt detached his mouth from you and began kissing her. From your lower angle, you watched in awe as your two best friends’ tongues danced together in unison, and hummed in contentment when Matt began playing with your sensitive nipples. Growing impatient as your friends continued to kiss one another, you leaned up and joined the kiss. Sloppily, the three of you desperately moved your lips between each others; tongues swirling and teeth biting bottom lips.
Eventually, Jasmine began descending your body once again; her mouth leaving sloppy kisses down your neck and stomach before pausing above your throbbing heat. At the same time, Matt stood up at the edge of the bed and began removing his own clothes. “Is this okay?” Jasmine asked as she began toying with your bikini bottoms; that cheeky glint still present in her eyes. You couldn’t help but nod, your body was on fire from the heat of the situation you found yourself in the middle of. As Jasmine began removing your bottoms, you felt Matt gently grab you under your arms and pull you closer to the edge of the bed. With your head now dangling off the side of the mattress, your view was of Matt staring down at you, stroking his hard cock.
Suddenly, your focus was pulled from the beautiful sight in front of you by Jasmine’s warm mouth against your reactive clit. A moan was pulled from your lips as she began swirling her tongue against your nerves, and you felt pleasure beyond anything you had ever felt before. Jasmine continued to use her talented mouth to fuck you as Matt gazed down at the two of you deep in your own world of pleasure. His view was mind blowing, and he lost all sight of control when your mouth released its loud cries of pleasure. As your mouth opened in ecstasy, he took the opportunity to gently grab onto either side of your face and slide his throbbing dick into your mouth.
Your eyes blew open in shock, but one look at Matt’s glazed over expression of relief was enough to amplify your own sense of arousal. Just as Jasmine slid two slender fingers into your core, Matt began thrusting his member into you. He started off slow and shallow — testing the waters to ensure that you were comfortable — but as your moans of pleasure vibrated his cock he began driving it faster down your throat. Overwhelmed with the unfamiliar sensation of pleasuring one person while also being pleasured by another, you began to lose control of yourself and grabbed onto Jasmine’s long hair in a desperate attempt at feeling grounded. It didn’t take long for Jasmine’s work to bring you close to an orgasm, and your eyes filled with tears as your pleasure began to overtake you. “F-fuck.” You mumbled around Matt’s dick as Jasmine’s fingers began pumping faster in and out of you.
The build up of your orgasm was so staggering that you were having a hard time letting go, especially with two sets of eyes on your writhing body. Jasmine detached her mouth from your clit but kept pumping her fingers into you as she leaned up close to your face. She smirked down at you and watched closely as your throat filled with Matt’s cock over and over. “You gonna cum baby?” She asked, her fingers never losing rhythm inside of you as you sent her pleading eyes. If you could speak, you would have begged her to not stop, but all you could do was release a gurgled moan. Just then, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your orgasm tore through you like a freight train. Your mouth went slack around Matt’s cock and your back arched off the bed as Jasmine’s fingers continued to fuck you through your orgasm; even after you felt the relief from squirting all over them.
“Holy fuck.” You heard Matt’s gravelly voice through your clouded thoughts as your orgasm began to subside. His hips stilled — he was on the verge of finishing himself — and his grip on the sides of your face tightened as he attempted to regain his composure. With gasping breaths, you managed to calm your racing heart. “Hmm, you taste so good Y/n. Kiss me Matty, and see for yourself.” Jasmine’s voice was breathy and seductive, and without hesitation Matt leaned above you to kiss her deeply; moaning from the taste that your arousal had left behind on her tongue.
Just the thought of your juices being shared between your two best friends stirred up a new wave of arousal within you, and you pressed your thighs together to gain some sort of relief. However, it wasn’t long before Matt and Jasmine broke their kiss and peered down at you, Matt brushing a gentle thumb across your bottom lip. “You ready to get used some more, Y/n?” Asked Jasmine, and you didn’t hesitate before nodding your head eagerly.
Immediately, Jasmine grabbed your legs and encouraged you to spin around on the bed so that instead of your head dangling off the side, it was your legs. Matt grabbed onto both of your knees and guided them open before staring intently at your glistening core. “Your mouth was so good, can’t wait to feel your pussy around me.” His dirty words went right to your heat, and Jasmine furthered your anticipation with her own string of filth. “Mmm. Your mouth clearly knows how to make a cock feel good, let’s see if it knows its way around a cunt.” She gazed down at your puffy lips as she began removing her string bikini bottoms, and you whimpered softly when Matt slid his veiny cock tauntingly along your folds.
Jasmine lifted her leg and straddled your face, making you lose your sense of clear vision as her core hovered above your trembling mouth. So close you could reach it with your tongue if you tried, you took a moment to admire her. Bright pink and dripping from her own arousal, it took everything out of you to not grab her by her hips and hold her against your mouth. You were pulled from her trance suddenly by Matt driving himself into you. Your walls seized around him and you gasped at the feeling of his size stretching you out; your mouth turning into an ‘O’ shape. Seeing her opportunity, it was at this moment that Jasmine finally dropped her heat onto your face. Wasting no time, you immediately began devouring her folds; admiring her sweetness and relishing in the erotic noises that were slipping from her mouth all from you.
With Matt pounding into you, you were having a hard time focusing on what you were doing with your mouth as all you wanted to do was cry out in pleasure. Too pussy drunk to give into that temptation, you wrapped your arms around her smooth thighs and held her firmly against your swirling tongue. “Oh my fucking god, Y/n. S-so good.” Her words were choppy but she managed to get them all out before slowly grinding her hips against your face. You were feeling used in the best way possible, knowing that two people attached to different parts of you were able to feel so good. “Oh yeah, you’re so wet for me.” Matt cooed as he grabbed both of your legs and hooked them around his waist. You heard a half-hearted laugh from above you. “Pretty sure I got her started, Matt.” Jasmine taunted, and you suddenly felt her shift on your face; leaning towards your core while simultaneously moaning. “Oh yeah baby, that’s all for me, isn’t it.”
You moaned against her pussy when you felt her place a finger on your sensitive clit; and then nearly lost all control when she began rubbing it in tempo with Matt’s driving hips. Already overstimulated, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you came again; especially with Jasmine’s sweet juices dripping down your chin. “Mmm, gonna cum soon.” Jasmine cried out suddenly, her previously alluring tone turning into one more high-pitched and desperate. “F-fuck, me too.” Matt groaned out, his movements growing quicker and choppier. Feeling your own orgasm building up, just thinking about the pleasure that your other two friends were feeling caused the tidal wave to crash down once again.
You couldn’t stifle the throaty moans from escaping your lips and travelling directly to Jasmine’s now pulsating core as you both reached your powerful orgasms. You felt her legs shake on either side of your foggy head just as your own shook around Matt’s waist. Your nails dug into the soft skin on her inner thighs in the same way that hers dug into your hips. Your muffled moans used her body as a vessel to escape your mouth, as she sobbed out enough profanities for the both of you.
Matt’s orgasm wasn’t far behind yours and Jasmine’s. Just as you lapped up her residual cum, Matt let out a sequence of deep grunts before pulling his throbbing cock out of you and resting it on your stomach, pumping it a few times before releasing a river of hot liquid along your abdomen. You heard Jasmine gasp at the view she had had of Matt’s euphoric moment, and you savoured the satisfying feeling of his cum gathering on your stomach. Soon after, Jasmine lifted her heat off of your face, staying on her hands and knees above you but finally giving you your sense of sight back. Chest heaving, Matt looked down at you with dazed eyes and shot you a gentle smile as your eyes adjusted to the light.
Just centimetres above you, Jasmine’s voluminous breasts hung in the air and you reached up with your tongue and licked them both, not ready for this event to be over. Jasmine didn’t seem to want that either, as she released a soft moan before leaning down to your stomach and dropping small kisses along it. She then used her tongue and collected the pool of Matt’s cum in her mouth before leaning back towards your face and placing a hand on your jaw. Using her grip on your jaw to open your mouth, she leaned down until your lips were nearly touching before spitting Matt’s collected seed into your mouth. “Holy fuck.” You heard Matt whisper under his breath, clearly taken aback by the sight of his cum being shared between his two friends.
You swallow his cum before smiling flirtatiously at him. “You got another round in you?” You asked him as Jasmine climbed off of you completely and you propped yourself up on your elbows to take a look at his still-hard member. Without saying anything, Matt simply smirked and climbed onto the bed before attaching his lips to yours once again. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close to him; deepening the kiss — the taste of all three of you travelling between your tongues — as he spun you around so that he was laying at the head of the bed with you hovering on top of him.
Still kissing you, he released a quick moan as Jasmine began bobbing her head up and down his shaft. He gripped your ass tightly with one hand and a clump of her hair with the other as his pleasure began to increase, and finally he groaned against your mouth before pulling your lips away from him. Confused, you were able to take only a quick glance at his fucked out face before he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you up towards his face. Keeping your trembling figure hovered above his puffy lips, he then grabbed Jasmine and encouraged her to straddle his hips. Once the two of you were both in the correct position, he wrapped one hand around your thigh and another around Jasmine’s waist and pushed you both down onto two separate parts of his body.
Before you had even settled onto his face, his tongue began working magic around your clit. Your head rolled back and you caught a glimpse of Jasmine riding his dick behind you. Gripping onto the headboard of the bed for support, you couldn’t help but release incessant moans as Matt’s mouth worked your overstimulated cunt. “S-so good Matty.” You cried out and Jasmine hummed in agreement. Looking in between your legs, you were met with the breathtaking view of Matt’s cold blue eyes glued to you as he buried himself in your heat. The two of you maintained blurry eye contact for a long time, Jasmine filling in the silence with enough dirty phrases for the three of you combined.
“Oh god,” Her voice was trembling, “Your cock is so big Matty. And Y/n, you’re giving me the best view right now, grinding your pretty cunt against Matt like that. S-so hot.” At her words, Matt gripped your ass with both hands and held you in place before drilling his tongue against your clit at an ungodly pace. “O-oh god, gonna cum again.” You practically screamed out as your body became once again overtaken by that fluttering sensation. “M-me t-too.” Jasmine’s voice came out much less confident than it had been just moments before, and before long your synchronized moans filled the room as you were both riding out yet another mind-bending orgasm all over Matt.
Feeling more than dazed from your third orgasm of the night, you hissed and lifted your core off of Matt’s face when he continued to swirl his tongue through your swollen folds. “M-matt please no, can’t take anymore.” You pleaded with him between your legs. Matt fake-pouted up at you as Jasmine continued bouncing on his cock. “Please sweetheart, just want one more taste.” He wined out, causing you to sigh before slowly beginning to drop your pelvis back onto his face. Just as his tongue barely grazed your dripping core, the unmistakable sound of a door creaking open filled the room.
“Are ya’ll sl — oh fuck! Sorry, fuck!”
All three of you froze all movements and spun your heads to the door, catching a glimpse of Chris’ panicked face just before he hurriedly shut the bedroom door. “Uh oh.” You whispered, your hips now back to hovering above Matt’s mouth; hanging open in shock. Jasmine suddenly broke out into a fit of hysterical laughter so contagious that you and Matt both had no choice but to join in. “Okay well, I guess that killed it.” She said behind you through her laughter before beginning to climb off of Matt’s hips. “No.” Matt grabbed her wrist and your thigh, his tone so void of all laughter that the two of you had no choice but to snap your eyes onto him. “We’re not done yet. Both of you, get on your knees.” His voice was so commanding, you turned your head to look at Jasmine in surprise, only to find a sly smirk covering her flushed face.
The both of you followed his orders and climbed from your respective places on top of his body and onto the floor; side by side. Once he was able to, Matt also pulled his naked body off of the bed and stood on his feet in front of you both. Looking up at him through your eyelashes, all memory of the embarrassment you felt from Chris walking in was replaced by a new wave of arousal. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, and he slapped his cock against it a few times before finally leaving it there; granting you non-verbal permission to begin playing with the tip.
As you swirled your tongue around the ridges of his head, Jasmine began kissing and licking along his shaft. Keeping your eyes on him the entire time, you watched in awe at his heaving chest and pouty lips. Once Jasmine’s mouth moved down to his balls where she began sucking them, you brought your lips all the way down his shaft; taking all of him in your mouth before bobbing your head up and down fervently. Caught up in the new sensation of two warm mouths toying with his manhood, Matt’s hands immediately reached for both of your heads, where he grabbed fistfuls of hair and held on tightly.
Small grunts left his lips as both you and Jasmine worked together to make him feel good, and you allowed his hand to push your head down as far as it could go before gargling on every inch of his member; vibrations of your own moans working his cock even more. Eventually, his grip on your hair loosened and you removed your lips from his dick to catch your breath. Without hesitating, Jasmine took over for you and you watched her full lips swallow Matt’s thick cock with ease before you began fondling his balls under her chin.
You watched as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, clearly approaching his orgasm. Jasmine pulled her head back, letting Matt’s cock fall from her mouth with a pop before both of you began running your tongues teasingly along either side of his length. Tongues swirling, the two of you faced each other. When your performing mouths both reached his tip, you brought your lips to hers and you both began kissing deeply. You moaned from the feeling of her soft lips as her tongue entered your mouth, and Matt began pumping his own dick as he watched the two of you impassioned with one another just below him.
“Shiiit,” Matt hissed, causing both of you to pull apart and look up at his trembling frame. “Open your mouths.” He commanded, and you two obliged with seductive smiles planted on your faces. Matt’s eyes glazed over and, with a quick shiver and a husky moan, vigorously pumped his twitching cock as his second orgasm engulfed him. You hummed in satisfaction as you felt your tongue get painted with his cum, and eagerly lapped it up before it had a chance to drip down your chin.
His pumping hand slowed its movements as he milked his dick dry, and his fiery gaze turned into one far more lethargic and relaxed as he took in your matching blissed out faces coated in his own seed. Catching your breath, you turned to look at Jasmine and her face was just as euphoric and lacquered in cum as yours, and you collected a drop that had landed on her eyebrow on your thumb before licking it off.
After what could have been hours of silent, uncertain glances between the three of you, the sullenness was broken by simultaneous laughter. Starting off as nervous giggling, it quickly transformed into full-body unrestrained howling as you fell onto your back, Jasmine clutched her stomach, and Matt leaned forward and braced himself on his knees. “How the actual fuck did that just happen?” Matt finally managed to ask through tears of laughter. “Oh my god, there’s no way we all just had a threesome!” You exclaimed as you tried to pull your body off of the floor; only just now realizing what had just transpired over the past forty five minutes.
“I’m just shocked we’ve all never done that before.” Added Jasmine, finally getting control over her laughter. You and Matt found each other’s eyes, shocked at Jasmine’s words, and broke into yet another fit of hysterics.
“Okay, okay. I need a shower right now.” You stated, finally getting to your feet. “Jesus, so do I. Every square inch of me is sticky.” Your face scrunched in mild disgust from Jasmine’s notorious lack of filter, but you couldn’t exactly disagree. “Round two in the shower?” You joked, and watched as both of your friends giggled once again. “Definitely not, I think my dick would fall off.” Chuckled Matt as he found a pair of boxers and began putting them on. “You two go, try not to do any weird shit, and I’ll go get some water for us.” You sighed dramatically, pretending to be truly gutted that he wouldn’t join, but truthfully you were grateful considering how raw your insides were feeling. “Fine, but you’ll be missing out Matty.” Replied Jasmine, adding onto your pretend narrative by jokingly biting her bottom lip as the two of you hurriedly walked through his bedroom door and into the washroom.
As soon as he heard the shower turn on, Matt threw on some sweats and headed into the kitchen to grab some drinks and snacks. Once he turned the corner from the hallway to the main living area, he stopped in his tracks when he saw Chris sitting on the couch; staring at him with a cheeky smile. Knowing that there was nothing he could say to deflate the situation, Matt chose to ignore him and continued over to the fridge to grab some sodas; however he had to fight the small smirk that he felt travelling to his lips.
Unable to stand the silence, Chris spoke up. “Dude.” He began as Matt hid his face in the fridge. “How the hell did you manage to get yourself in that situation?” Matt moved from the fridge to the pantry where he hunted for something to eat, once again unable to contain a chuckle from how mind blowing the scenario had been. “Honestly, I’m not even sure.” He replied, making Chris laugh. “But like how did you initiate it? Like did you just ask them if they wanted to fuck or what? I mean I knew you were drunk when you left the beach earlier, but there’s no way you were drunk enough to be that confident.” He pried, extremely curious as to how his typically reserved brother would have the balls to fuck his two best friends at the same time. “I didn’t initiate it.” Matt replied truthfully as he pulled a bag of chips out of the pantry. “They both sorta just went for it.” At this, Chris’ mouth dropped. “Holy shit, that’s mad hot.” He said before getting up from the couch and walking closer to where his brother was standing.
“You wanna give me some details?” Chris asked, blue eyes twinkling with interest, but Matt’s immediate look of disgust was enough to let him know that he wasn’t going to get much out of him. “Okay okay fine, but can you at least tell me which one was better?” Annoyed, Matt rolled his eyes at his brother as he popped a handful of chips into his mouth and began heading back in the direction of his room. “Chris, you know my friends are off limits for you. You’re not about to collect this information to try to slide in.” At this, Chris groaned. “That’s not what I’m doing, kid. I’m just curious if one was better than the other. Please just give me that, then I swear I’ll never bring it up again.”
Matt couldn’t keep up his nonchalant image anymore, knowing that he had done something that his brother was so shocked by. Before now, Chris had never acted so outwardly impressed by Matt’s sexual endeavours, because truthfully, he had never before done anything even close to being as crazy as what he had done tonight. Fucking his two best friends at the same time was something that he had occasionally fantasized about, but never ever considered actually doing. But now that it had actually happened, and that it had been so good, he could feel his ego inflate by the minute. He finally let a prideful smile take over his face as he reached his bedroom door before turning back around to regard his dumbfounded brother. With his hand on the doorknob and a satisfied glint in his eyes, Matt finally responded with a tranquil sigh. “They’re both fucking good.”
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo smut#the sturniolos#the sturniolo triplets
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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?
#deoboyznet#the boyz x reader#ji changmin x reader#changmin x reader#the boyz oneshot#the boyz drabbles#the boyz imagines#the boyz scenarios#the boyz fanfic#changmin drabble#changmin oneshot#changmin angst#changmin scenarios#changmin imagines#changmin fic#the boyz fic#the boyz angst
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Recipe for Love
Chapter One: Gather Your Ingredients
Mia remembered the night vividly it was another industry event where the best of the best mingled in the 5 Star hotel ballroom. She had been feeling practically confident that evening, her black Hervé Léger dress hugging her figure perfectly, her hair styled in an updo. The air was filled with excitement of potential deals, new projects and the thrill of being seen.
Urban had caught her eye early in the night. Tall, with a confident smile, a film camera dangled from around his neck. After a few stolen looks, he finally approached her with a drink in hand. They struck up a conversation naturally, the mutual attraction was undeniable. As the night wore on they found themselves slipping away from the crowd, seeking a quiet corner where they could talk more freely.
“You know, I’ve seen you at these events before.” Urban said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “But tonight, you look particularly stunning.”
Mia’s cheeks warmed, a genuine smile spreading across her face. “Thank you, Urban. You don’t look so bad yourself.”
One drink led to another, and before long they were leaning in closer, their laughter blending with the soft music playing in the ballroom. Their chemistry seemed electric and it wasn’t long before they found themselves tangled in the sheets of a suite, finally giving in to the magnetic pull that seemed to have drawn them together.
Over the next weeks they continued hooking up, they would meet up in secret, not wanting press in their business. Each stolen moment felt like an escape from their high-profile lives, a secret world where they could be themselves without judgment.
Mia’s best friend Liv invited her out to lunch as she was back in LA from filming a movie in Paris. Liv’s face lit up with excitement. “I have someone I want you to meet!” Her eyes seemed to sparkle with joy.
Mia’s curiosity was piqued, she couldn’t remember the last time Liv was this happy. “Yeah? Who is is?”
Liv’s grin widened. “My new boyfriend! He’s wonderful, Mia. I really think you’ll like him. We’ve only been dating for 5 months but I think he’s the one.”
Anticipation built from the high praise from Liv as they waited for his arrival. When the door of the cafe swung open and Urban walked in, Mia felt the ground shift beneath her designer heels. He looked equally as stunned, but quickly masked it with a practiced smile. Liv jumped up, throwing her arms around him. “Mia, this is Urban.”
Mia’s heart raced and she forced a smile. “Nice to meet you, Urban.” she said, extending her hand as if they were strangers.
Urban shook her hand, his grip firm but his eyes were filled with unspoken words. “Nice to meet you too, Mia.” He replied, his voice was steady.
The rest of the lunch was a blur. Mia struggled to keep her emotions in check as Liv gushed about her new relationship, unaware of the storm brewing. Urban, of course played his part perfectly, attentive and charming but whenever their eyes met, Mia saw the guilt and uncertainty he was desperately trying to hide.
That night, alone in her apartment, Mia tried to process what had happened. She felt torn between her loyalty to Liv and the secret she now shared with Urban. Their affair had been exciting and intense, but it had to end. Liv’s happiness was too important to jeopardize, their friendship was too important to lose.
Mia texted Urban, asking to meet. They found a discreet cafe where they could talk without the fear of being recognized. “This has to stop.” her voice trembling slightly. “Liv deserves better than this.”
Urban nodded, his expression somber. “I know. It was never supposed to get this complicated.”
Mia rolled her eyes. “This all could’ve been avoided if you had told me you had a girlfriend! But I’m not going to keep lying to her.”
“Neither can I,” Urban agreed. “I’ll tell her the truth. She deserves to know.”
Mia shook her head. “No. You don’t have to. Just end it with me and be good to her. That’s all I ask.”
Urban reached out, taking her hand. “I will. I promise.”
Mia’s thoughts were interrupted when the crowd erupted in cheers in the same hotel ballroom she first met Urban. She watched as he got down on one knee, presenting a beautiful ring, one she knew was perfect for Liv. She clapped along, her face with a mask of congratulations. Mia needed to get out, to think, to process the whirlwind of emotions crashing over her.
As the crowd surged forward to congratulate the newly engaged couple, Mia knew she couldn’t avoid the inevitable. Steeling herself, she approached Liv and Urban, her smile firmly in place.
“Congratulations, Liv!” Mia exclaimed, pulling her friend into a warm embrace. “I’m so happy for you!”
“Thank you, Mia!” Liv beamed, her eyes sparkling with joy. “This is the best night of my life.”
Mia turned to Urban, who was watching her with a look that sent a shiver down her spine. He stepped forward, extending his hand. “Mia,” he said, his voice smooth. “Thank you for being here. It means a lot to both of us.”
Their hands met in a brief, tense handshake. As their eyes locked, Mia saw a flicker of something in his gaze—a mix of recognition and regret that only she could understand. She forced a smile, trying to keep her composure. “Congratulations, Urban,” she said, her voice steady. “You two make a wonderful couple.”
Urban’s knowing look lingered a moment longer before he nodded. “Thank you, Mia. We’re really happy.”
Mia managed a nod, her heart pounding. She needed to get away, to breathe. Excusing herself, she slipped out onto the balcony, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth inside. She leaned against the railing, staring out into the night, her thoughts a mix of guilt, sadness, and a strange sense of loss.
Despite her lack of feelings for Urban now, the memory of their affair gnawed at her conscience. She knew she should tell Liv the truth, but seeing her friend so happy made the decision agonizingly difficult.
“Mind if I join you?” a soft voice interrupted her thoughts. Startled, Mia turned to see a handsome man with an easy smile standing nearby. He wore a tailored suit, but the warmth in his eyes and the gentle way he held himself made her feel at ease.
“Sure,” Mia replied, trying to sound casual. She wasn’t in the mood for company, but something about the guys presence was oddly comforting.
“I’m Jack, by the way. I’m a close friend of Urban.” He extended his hand. “And I apologize if I’m intruding. I know who you are, and I figured you might want some space.”
Mia shook his hand. “It’s okay, really. It’s nice to meet you, Jack. I didn’t expect anyone to recognize me here.”
Jack chuckled softly. “Well, it’s hard not to recognize a famous model when she’s standing right in front of you. But I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just saw you out here and thought you might need someone to talk to.”
She just shrugged her shoulders and continued looking at the skyline. As the night progressed, the vibrant energy of the party began to wear on Mia. Jack, noticing her restlessness, leaned in closer. “Want to get out of here?” he asked, his eyes filled with mischief and a hint of adventure.
Mia hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Sure, why not? Lead the way.”
They slipped out of the party unnoticed, Jack led her through a series of winding streets until they arrived at an old, abandoned building. The structure stood tall and imposing, its once grand facade now worn by time.
Mia glanced around, a playful smirk on her lips. “Are you going to hurt me?” she joked, her tone light but with a hint of curiosity.
Jack chuckled, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that. This is just a place I come to when I need to think. It’s kind of my secret spot.”
Mia looked up at the building, intrigued. “What’s so special about this place?”
Jack’s expression softened as he gazed at the building. “One day, when I make enough money, I’m going to buy it and turn it into a restaurant. I’ve always dreamed of having my own place, and I think this building has a lot of potential. I come here to remind myself of what I’m working towards.”
Mia was touched by the vulnerability in his voice. “That’s a beautiful dream, Jack. I can see it now, a cozy restaurant with amazing food. You’d make it something really special.”
Jack smiled, a hint of pride in his eyes. “Thanks, Mia. It means a lot to hear that.”
They wandered around the building, Jack pointing out where he envisioned the dining area, the kitchen, and even a small rooftop garden. Mia could almost see it, the empty shell of the building coming to life in her mind with Jack’s descriptions.
As they explored, their conversation flowed effortlessly. Jack shared stories of his culinary journey, his struggles and triumphs, and his hopes for the future. Mia found herself opening up as well, talking about her modeling career, the pressures she faced, and her desire to find something more meaningful.
“I’ve always been in the spotlight,” Mia admitted, her voice soft. “But sometimes, I feel like I’m just playing a role. I want to find something real, something that’s mine.”
Jack nodded, understanding in his eyes. “I get that. It’s hard to find authenticity in a world that’s so focused on appearances. But I think you’re already on the right path. You just have to keep following your heart.”
They eventually settled on the building’s rooftop, the city lights stretching out before them in a dazzling display. The night air was crisp and refreshing, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.
“This place is amazing,” Mia said, her voice filled with awe. “I can see why you come here to think.”
“Yeah,” Jack replied, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “It helps me stay grounded. Reminds me of where I’ve been and where I want to go.”
Mia looked at him, feeling a deep connection forming. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Jack. It’s been a long time since I felt this… at peace.”
Jack turned to her, his eyes softening. “I’m glad I could help. And thank you for trusting me enough to come here.”
Mia gave him a smile, before sighing knowing it was getting late. She had an early shoot the next morning, and didn’t want to wake up with bags under her eyes.
“Ready to head back?” Jack asked before she could. Mia gave him a nod and they took the short walk back to the hotel to part ways.
They reached the parking area, where Mia’s sleek, luxurious car was parked under a streetlight, its polished surface gleaming.
Jack let out an impressed whistle, his eyes widening. “Wow, Mia. This is one fancy ride.”
Mia laughed, a bit self-conscious. “Yeah, it’s one of the perks of the job, I guess.”
Jack shook his head, still admiring the car. “It’s not just fancy, it’s stunning.”
He looked around, spotting his own car parked a few rows away. “Well, I guess this is where we part ways.”
Mia nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment that the night was ending. “Yeah, I guess so.”
They stood there for a moment, neither wanting to say goodbye just yet. Finally, Jack reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze before letting go. “Goodnight, Mia.”
“Goodnight, Jack,” she replied, watching as he walked to his car.
Mia climbed into her own vehicle and started the engine. As she drove home, her mind replayed the events of the evening, the connection she felt with Jack, and the easy, genuine conversation they shared. Despite the complicated emotions surrounding Liv and Urban, the night had been unexpectedly wonderful.
Once she arrived home, Mia went through her usual bedtime routine, though her thoughts were still filled with Jack. She changed into comfortable pajamas and climbed into bed, feeling a sense of satisfaction and contentment.
But as she settled in, a sudden realization hit her: she hadn’t gotten Jack’s number. Her heart sank, the excitement of the evening giving way to a wave of disappointment.
As she drifted off to sleep, Mia held onto the hope that they would run into each other again. The connection they had was too genuine to let slip away, and she was determined to see where it could lead.
****
AN: new series (I promise I won’t abandon it) it probably won’t be more than 10 chapters 🫶
Tag List:
(message me if you'd like to be added or removed)
@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow @neon-lights-and-glitter @babiefries @jackmans-poison @dstark-0706 @harlowsbby @itsyagirljaz @leftapricotprofessorlover @toocriticalharlow @minkookie95 @harlowcomehome @jackharloww @jaydaaasworld @kkrenae @hufflewhore128 @w1ldthoughts @jackiehollanderr @katiaw2 @halfmoondaze @babybardi2 @daphnescorner @angelluv444 @coquette-harlow
#jack harlow#jack harlow x reader#jack harlow x y/n#jack harlow reader#urban wyatt#urban wyatt x reader#urban Wyatt x oc#jack harlow fanfic#Jack harlow non famous#recipe for love
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lost in love songs.
han taesan x reader
a short, three part, friends to lovers story.
ੈ✩‧₊ hidden love unfolds when taesan's ipod nano accidentally ends up in the hands of his best-friend, yn. a certain playlist catches her eyes, revealing the true feelings kept within the depths of the boy's heart.
part one: for, yn.
shy introvert! taesan, loud extrovert! reader. some cuss words, myung jaehyun as reader's older brother, yang jungwon as class president! lowercase intended, excuse any spelling mistakes / grammatical errors! enjoy <3
wc: 2,044
masterlist 𖦹 part two 𖦹 part three
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖
"myung yn, han taesan. you guys are up for classroom duty today! don't forget to return the brooms to the closet when you're done, the keys go in mr. bang's office!"
yang jungwon, their class president, spoke from his seat at the very front of the class. his body turned towards the pair of best-friends who sat beside each other at the back corner of the room. "yup, got it" myung yn replies, shooting the dimple adorned boy two thumbs up and a sweet smile. jungwon tilts his head in the direction of the guy beside her, causing the girl to turn over to her left, eyes being met by han taesan. he seemed to be daydreaming, his nose pointed upwards as he stared at whatever was outside the window, his hearing blocked by the wired earphones that stuck into his ears. sighing, yn grabs at one side of the listening device, pulling him immediately out of his trance. "huh? did you say something?" taesan's voice is quiet as usual, his eyes widening slightly as he spoke. his friend chuckles, "we're on classroom duty today" she says, fidgeting with the silver heart-shaped charm on her bracelet. "maybe you should listen when class prezzy speaks" yn's statement makes him roll his eyes, "but that's what i have you for!" he shoots her an awkward smile, his teeth showing and his nose scrunched. "so what? i'm your only friend, and your messenger now?" her words sting a little, a glare taking over his previously smiley complexion.
the girl giggles as the bell rings, playfully pushing his shoulders as she gets up from her seat. "upwards, your majesty!" yn announces all too loudly in some sort of a terrible british accent, the shy introverted boy's face showing her a panicked expression as all eyes went onto them. she doesn't stop though, chest puffing out as she takes a deep breath, "we've got but the best of duties to fulfill! you must now-" her voice comes to a halt when he abruptly gets up, slapping his large hand over her mouth to shut her up before he got any more embarrassed than he already was. getting lightheaded, the girl taps at his arm, breathing heavily when she was released. "that was like…attempted murder…" she speaks between breaths, eyes growing big like her friend had just turned into some psycho killer. taesan just rolls his eyes, "maybe you should use your inside voice next time then" and he walks past her, heading to the closet at the very end of the classroom.
the pair of polar opposite friends begin their cleaning duties. i say polar opposites because that's exactly what they were. han taesan was only the biggest introvert in the world! that, and his rather cold demeanor meant that half the people that knew him were either intimidated or just flat out terrified of him. everyone except her, of course. myung yn, she might as well wear a massive E for extrovert on her head. yn was a star student, someone people were attracted to and wanted to be friends with. however, despite her sweet attitude and smile, the girl was rather picky about her acquaintances. so how did the han boy, who only wore long coats and ripped jeans when he wasn't wearing uniform, who prefers to read books over movies, who only listened to the curated playlists of music he pirated onto his dad's old ipod nano from 2005- that, and of course his own songs that he wrote in his free time- the guy who could barely keep up conversation with anyone without some help. how could he become friends with the myung girl? who wears short skirts even during the winter, enjoyed petting animals, watched home alone when it wasn't even close to christmas, the girl who's a hopeless romantic, always running her friend's ear off about that new rom-com she watched or her endless fantasies of her own longing for romance. how were these two antipodes, these two contradictory figures, how did they manage to be the best of friends?
well…to be honest with you, neither of them knew either. all they know is that one day, long ago in middle school, when the boy was too shy to make friends and had no one to talk to, some sort of an angel decided to sit him right beside the overly friendly girl. the one girl- no, scratch that- the one person, who willingly spoke to him when no one else would. and they've been inseparable since then. and despite their many differences, the pair got along just fine. if not, perfect.
"ugh…why do people still stick gum under their desks like this? the trash can is literally right there…" yn groaned, suddenly thankful for the blue rubber gloves she had put on when they started cleaning just ten minutes ago. her eyes wandered upwards and over to the boy when she hears no answer, another sigh escaping her lips when she sees him completely lost in his head once again, those same wired earphones from before plugged into the silver ipod that sat on the table beside where he was sweeping the floor. "earth to taesan?" he's shaken out of his thoughts when the girl appears right in front of him. "huh?" he asks, that phrase coming out of his mouth much too often for her liking. "were you talking to me?" she rolls her eyes, as if it were obvious. "what are you even listening to that's got you all distracted like this?" she wonders, a curious arm reaching out to grab onto the tiny music device. however, before she could even process the white buttons, the ipod was stolen away from her by its now flustered owner. yn cocks an eyebrow up, shooting him a perplexed look. "it…it's nothing! just a new song i've been working on…it's not done yet, i haven't finished it" the boy stutters, he rarely stutters around her, it was so unlike him to be hiding something from her- especially one of his songs that he was always so proud of. "weirdo" she mutters before going back to picking off gum from under her classmates' desks, not catching the way the boy stared at her for a minute, somewhat of a relieved sigh leaving his lips as he did so.
sooner or later, the pair had finished their duties, stuffing the cleaning supplies back in their classroom's closet before leaving and locking the door behind them. on their way out of their school, which had fallen silent apart from the basketball team who had stayed back to practice down in the sports centre, they stopped by the teachers' office to hook the classroom key back onto it's designated spot on the wall. they were on their way home now, or at least, on the way to her home. he always walked with her. even if his house was a whole other thirty minutes away from her neighbourhood in the opposite direction, he insisted on accompanying her every single day.
yn exhales as they walked down the side-walk path towards her complex, a cool breath escaping her lips and the girl starts to regret the fact that she had forgotten her school blazer when she was running late this morning. taesan notices, walking on the side of the street towards the road, shielding her from the cars speeding past them. "cold?" he asks, looking down at her slightly smaller figure. the girl shakes her head, "no" but her voice comes out shaky. the boy laughs out loud, beginning to remove his own school blazer from off of his shoulders. "you're a terrible liar" he says, tossing the article of clothing atop her head, blocking away her sight for just a moment before she grabbed a hold of it. "hold this" she demands, lazily passing him her light-pink backpack before throwing his blazer over her own shoulders, the oversized fit of it making him chuckle lightly. the pair of friends shared mindless conversation as they resumed their journey home, the harsh winds blowing against their hair causing them to squint slightly as they walked. alas, they make it to the front of her gated neighbourhood. the boy smiled softly as she waved him off, disappearing into the distance. taesan crosses the street carefully, turning around before making his long journey back to his own place.
"i'm home!" yn announces, closing the door behind her and tossing her shoes onto the rack to her right. "did your boyfriend walk you home again?" the teasing voice of her brother emerges from up the stairs. the girl rolls her eyes, "mom! jaehyun is bothering me again" she pouts, to which he just scoffs, "that's not a no~" she slaps him on the arm, "mom!!" and then her frown turns into a menacing smirk. "jae, stop bothering your sister!" their mother's voice is stern, echoing from over in the kitchen. "snitch" jaehyun says, pushing his little sister's head lightly as he followed her up the stairs and into her room.
"who's blazer is that? i thought you forgot yours at home this morning? i would know cause i had to do your laundry today" he sneered, slumping himself onto the girl's bed. "oh shit, it's taesan's. he let me wear it on the way home, i completely forgot" yn cussed, slapping her palm against her head as she did so, beginning to take her friend's jacket off. she sighed, "i'll give it back to him tomorrow" jaehyun furrows his eyebrows, "tomorrows a weekend, you're not going to school…unless you have other plans with him...like a date~" her brother shoots her a suggestive grin, his face disappearing when the blazer in her hand is launched at him. "ow!" he yells, rubbing his forehead with a frown. "oh, don't be dramatic. it's a piece of cloth, it's not supposed to hurt" yn scoffs, walking into her closet to change into something more comfortable. "no, something hard in there hit me" the boy says, "what is it?" she asked, entering her bedroom again. "i don't know…" jae mumbles, shuffling slightly as he stuck a hand through the jacket in search of the mystery object.
"aha!" he exclaims, pulling out the infamous silver music player she had seen far too many times already. "an ipod nano? who the fuck uses an ipod these days? can't he listen to music on his phone like a normal person?" his sister glares, moving closer hit him upside his head. "leave him alone, and leave his ipod alone too! he prefers the sound of that thing, plus all his original songs are in there to save space…stop snooping around, he doesn't like that" jaehyun shrugs, seemingly ignoring his sister's words as he pushed the on button, watching as the tiny screen turned white. "anyways, he's probably panicking right now. i should text him and tell him his ipod is safe with me and-" she was cut off by her brother's voice, "yeah, you might want to take a look at this before you do that" she looked at him half-confused and half-pissed off that he had looked through her friend's belongings when she specifically said not to.
"what am i looking at? and i told you not to snoop around!" she exclaimed, a frustrated groan threatening to escape her mouth. "yn, shut up for once and just look at this!" the urgency in his voice fuels the curiosity she had in her heart, giving in as she sat down beside him on her bed. "what…" she trails off, eyes widening as she pulls the small gadget out of her sibling's hand.
"you sure you guys aren't a thing? cause..."
there on the screen, a little folder hidden under all his other ones. and in it, two songs, two original songs: 'about a girl' and 'can't help falling in love' yn snickers a little at the obvious inspiration from his favourite artists nirvana and elvis, her mind picturing a puzzled taesan who couldn't come up with his own song names. however the girl is still lost, and it's the title of the playlist that confuses her. the playlist addressed to her. two simple words in bold letters that said,
'for, yn'
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖
eee!!! the first part of this short, three part series TT hope u guys enjoyed it 🤭 any guesses for what's going to happen next?? reblogs n feedback highly appreciated!! send me an ask, let's talk abt this 💭😽 excited for u guys to read the next part, featuring song lyrics i wrote myself!! love, kona.
#kona's work ♡#boynextdoor#boynextdoor drabbles#boynextdoor imagines#boynextdoor x reader#taesan#taesan x reader#boynextdoor taesan#bnd taesan#han dongmin#han taesan#bnd x reader
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not ready
January 23, 2024
Lucia walked out of her bedroom sliding her jacket on and putting her phone in her pocket.
“Where are you going?” Jack curiously asked watching as his sister slipped her shoes on at the front door.
“To John’s.” Lucia answered grabbing her keys.
“Ah.” Jack smirked slighty he has noticed how close the two are and have a hopeful feeling about them. Jack knew if anyone would be perfect for his sister it’s John.
Lucia nodded bye and headed out of the apartment and to her car and started driving the very short drive to John’s.
Lucia headed through John’s apartment building until she got to his apartment and knocked on the door.
“Why do you always have perfect timing.” John sarcastically asked with a teasing smirk, every time Lucia comes over to eat with John, he orders their food and it always get there right before or right as she gets there.
“Just be better Johnny boy.” Lucia taunted back with a smirk and walked into his apartment and slipped her shoes off and hung up her jacket heading to the kitchen.
Lucia opened the fridge grabbing two gatorades, which happened to be her favorite flavor and tossed one over to John.
Lucia quickly sat down at his dinning table and started opening her food quickly and eating, John shook his head fondly and sat down on the chair next to her and started eating as well.
John grabbed their containers once they were done as Lucia headed to his living room and plopping onto his couch and finding something to watch.
John grabbed the blanket on the back of the couch that is only used by her and covered her with the blanket not seeing her soft smile before sitting down on the couch next to her.
John grabbed the remote from her hand before she chose something.
Lucia grumbled and turned to glare at John who just smiled at her glare.
“You gonna talk about it?” John questioned having waited the last two almost three weeks for her to be ready to talk but he also knows she sometimes needs a little push.
Lucia clenched her jaw not wanting to even think about Mackie but she knew John deserves to know especially if she ever plans to tell him about her feelings in the future.
“Mackie was my best friend for over two years.” Lucia started fiddling with the sleeve of her hoodie, “We slept together a few months after we met, We uh talked about it after and agreed to be friends with benefits to make our busy lives easier especially with hockey it was hard to find someone to hook up with.” Lucia explained still playing with her hoodie until John rested his hand over hers and she started fiddling with his hoodie.
“We promised we wouldn’t sleep with anyone while we had our benefit thing going on and we would talk to each other if there was someone else we wanted to be with or we had feelings for someone.” Lucia took a deep breath and fiddled with John’s hand.
“It was almost a year we had our friends with benefits going on and we acted as couple doing everything as couple but call each other boyfriend girlfriend. He introduced me as his girl and took me on dates so it was hard to not start falling for him especially when the lines and boundaries began to blur.” Lucia softly told John, he was patiently watching her as she told him everything.
“We were both leaving Mich at the same time and we never talked about ending our arrangement but two weeks after i got here he posted his girlfriend on instagram. They had to of been together for a bit for him to do that and the worse part is he never told me but she knew about me.” Lucia scoffed bitterly, she now was just more angry at the situation and how hurt she got in it.
John clenched his jaw not liking someone had hurt Lucia especially with how they did it.
“Come here.” John softly mumbled and opened up his arm and Lucia’s lips quirked up slightly before she scooted closer and rested her head on his chest feeling his arms wrap around her.
“Thank you for telling me Lucia.” John spoke to her softly, he was glad she trusted him enough to tell him.
Lucia slightly nodded, it was easier to tell him than her brothers.
“He is an idiot and never once deserved you.” John sternly spoke rubbing her shoulder softly as he still held her to his chest.
“You did not do anything wrong. You are allowed to have feelings for him and i am sorry you were the one who was hurt.” John softly reassured her and Lucia felt some of the tension fade from her shoulder not realizing how much she needed to hear those words.
“Thank you.” Lucia mumbled as she lifted her head back up but John’s arm was still wrapped around her.
John gently tucked back a stray hair from her braided crown behind her ear and Lucia shivered slightly at his soft touch as her eyes intently watched him.
Lucia felt her breath hitch as there faces were so close and only getting closer, “I’m not ready for anything right now John.“ Lucia soflty spoke stopping herself from leaning any closer to him, it wouldn’t be fair to either of them for them to start a relationship now.
“I know.” John softly replied still smiling because he knew she at least had feelings for him and that was more than enough.
“You’re extraordinary Lucia Hughes and i’m more than willing to wait for however long you need.” John softly spoke gently caressing her cheek as Lucia tried not to melt into his touch or melt because of his soft words.
“Because you feel something me?” Lucia softly quipped whispering as she looked through her eyelashes up at John.
“Because i feel something for you.” John told her with a fond smirk.
“I do too.” Lucia avoided eye contact slightly as she admitted her feelings but she thought he deserved to know she at least felt something for him. She wanted to do this right with John, she would not make the same mistake she did with Mackie.
John smiled looking very pleased.
“Give me to the end of the season?” Lucia asked softly, she’s been slowly healing over the past few months and she knew she would be ready soon and the season ends in a few months.
“Okay.” John quickly agreed and knew he would be asking her out the second the season ended.
Lucia softly smiled back.
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