#also hey should i post character playlists on here??

[leucosia-meme]

spotify wrapped :)

(plus lots of rambling in the tags)

[taesancore]

the playlist i never sent

woonhak x f!reader

(𝐈𝐈) OUR

a/n: finally pt.2 is here!!! this took quite some time to post and i apologise for the delay~ pt.3 might be the final one, i hope you enjoy this one and tysm for reading the series until now!!🫶🏻

🍦.ᐟ read part one here❕

🍦.ᐟ genre: f2l (idiots to lovers🤡), little angst

🍦.ᐟ warnings: idiots fr, PININGGG!!! lots of mutual pining and dumb characters, but hey nobody’s perfect :). mentions of TWS’s jihoon, Le Sserafim’s eunchae, NewJeans haerin, zb1’s yujin, IVE’s leeseo and Enhypen’s ni-ki.

wc: 4292, lowercase intended

“you kissed her?!” jihoon had almost shouted woonhak’s ear off in class. “say it louder won’t you? i don’t think the other building heard it” he snarked as jihoon still stood dumbfounded. “no i- so she kissed you?” the boy questioned further. “i don’t know! what am i gonna do” woonhak groaned into his palms. “did you like the kiss though?” jihoon asked, wiggling his eyebrows this time as woonhak scowled at him.

truth was, he had no idea. technically she had kissed him. but he had kissed back, he had no idea why he kissed back. and a part of him had no idea how he was gonna tell this to y/n, they told eachother everything.

she doesn’t like you anyways, what’s there to worry? rang out a small voice in his head as he sighed.

“are you going to tell y/n?” jihoon questioned hesitantly, he knew how much the boy liked y/n. “no…it’s better if i don’t jihoon” woonhak said softly. yes, she showed zero signs of liking him and probably never will, but a stubborn sliver of hope in him refused to die down. and then suddenly, a bulb lit up in his head.

“however…”

꒰ 🍵 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

you on the other hand were panicking as you should be. you couldn’t stop replaying the night’s events in your mind. somehow your mother had believed your lie of feeling sick during the event and returning home early, so staying at home and “resting” during the weekend gave you time to call eunchae over and spill everything.

“WHAT?!” she had shrieked when you told her everything. “I KNOWW THIS IS BAD” you had wailed. “no this is brilliant!! you can now confess to him!” she cried gleefully as you looked at her in disbelief. “of course not?! did you not hear a thing of what i said?? he likes someone!!” you huffed out loudly, heart sinking at the statement.

“…you seriously can’t be this dumb y/n” your friend said after a beat of silence.

“you’re right i can’t…which is why you won’t be telling him that it was me!” you cried out. ignoring eunchae’s absolutely done expression, you continued, “woonhak would never suspect me, and he did mention that he liked someone that night, so i’ll make it my mission to find out who he likes and make him believe that she was the dove girl!”.

“y/n…why would you do that?? you like him for fucks sake!” eunchae said with frustration.

“you don’t get it chae, if he finds out it was me…everything’s gonna fall apart” you replied lowly. you had already pictured his reaction if he discovered that you were the dove girl, the excitement in his eyes fading away into disappointment. you couldn’t bear the thought of losing him if he found out and your current plan was the best idea.

“besides, he’d probably have no intention of finding the girl from the ball, given the fact that he he likes someone”.

꒰ 🍵 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

“y/n, i need your help” was the first thing woonhak had said when they met that day at his house. “sure but with what?” you had replied, puzzled at his solemn face and request. he then proceeded to fill you in about the night at the ball where he ran into the dove girl (you might have tried to hide a little grin at the nickname he gave you) and how she also abruptly left that night.

why he didn’t mention the kiss you had no idea, perhaps he really liked someone else from your class, and maybe the kiss meant nothing to him. as your dejected self let this thought sink in, you almost missed his next words.

“…so i need you to help me find her”

“you WHAT??”

woonhak ignored the way you choked on literal air as he continued to ramble on.

“—i’m thinking we’ll make an account on instagram like one of those cliche reels—“

“why do you want to find the ball girl so badly?” you interrupted him, trying to mask your anxiety. oh this was so not going your way. “because i have something that belongs to her” he said after a moment. what?

“…she dropped this while she left and it’s an important clue—“

your eyes widened to the size of golf balls as woonhak lifted a single pearl earring to show you.

fucking idiot, how did you not realise that you lost it that night?? you continued to silently hurled expletives of all sorts towards yourself as you felt your palms grow sweaty.

“you okay y/n?” woonhak questioned, probably noticing your panicky expression (you hoped he didn’t). “that’s a really expensive earring” you said in a small voice.

technically it was, your dad had bought it for you a year ago before he passed away. you really hoped you could somehow get it back but that seemed impossible as you couldn’t dare to reveal yourself.

“really? that’s the second clue! i knew you’d be good at this” woonhak beamed. “i still don’t get why you’re asking me to help you find her—or why you want to find her” you grumbled as he tsked

“because you’re my best friend?” ouch.

“besides, won’t it be a little fun too? to think of it as a secret mission of some sort!” he made a little ‘woah’ face at you with a huge smile as he flopped down onto his bed.

yeah…for you, you thought helplessly. yet you giggled at his antics as you fell onto the bed by his side, the topic of the ball lay completely forgotten as you two basked in each others presence as usual.

꒰ 🍵 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

“kim woonhak likes someone?”

“haven’t you heard? he’s searching for the girl who danced with him in the ball!”

“he even put it up on the school page!”

“oh how i wish it was me…”

“right! wonder why she left though, such a cinderella story”

the words flew past you the minute you entered school the next day. seriously, you undermined how passionate your best friend could be as you took in the sight of multiple girls talking about what colour dresses they wore and what masks they picked. “kim woonhak you little shit” you muttered, musing over the effect he had on the freshman girls who continued to watch the reel he made, explaining the features and characteristics of the dove girl.

“seriously, at this point any of them could end up being his mystery girl” your classmate haerin scoffed as a couple of girls in the next bench looked up the cost of a peach dress online.

too bad they’ll never find the original one, you thought as you thought about your dress that your mom had taylor-maid for you.

the talk of the town, woonhak himself came to take his place behind you, booping your nose as he skipped towards his seat, casually sending butterflies to fly in your stomach. you turned around and glared at him to which he sent a cute little smile as the teacher called out for attention.

“hey, do you think she’ll come out?” came a whisper in your ear while mr. jung droned about the different clauses. “what?” you coughed out, trying your best to sound subtle.

“the dove girl, now that she knows i’m, you know, kim woonhak” he said with a cheeky tone. you sent a dry smile at that. “someone’s full of themself today” you replied as he made a sound of denial.

“woonhak and y/n! silence please” mr. jung barked out as you two fell silent. the class continued in silence as you thought about woonhak’s current plan. what if someone did step out and claim that they were the dove girl? would he believe it? if he did…it would make it easier for you won’t it?

“psst, you know she kind of reminded me of you” the boy behind you whispered again in your ear as you let out a choked noise.

“y/n is everything alright?” came mr. jung’s voice as you continued to cough into your fist. shit the whole class was looking at you.

you muttered an apology after you calmed down and shot your friend a glare, he sent you a confused expression in return. damn it, what did he find familiar?? “and how exactly did she remind you of me?” you hissed back at him as he shrugged.

“don’t know, she’s terrible at walking in heels, just like you” he snorted lightly as you held back an offended expression.

i literally ran down two floors in those heels! was what you wanted to say. obviously you couldn’t so you just rolled your eyes at him. “gee thanks hak—“

“that’s it you two! detention today evening!” mr. jung’s yell cut you off as the two of you winced.

you let out a silent groan as haerin snickered from next to you. great. just great.

꒰ 🍵 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

“wait—what makes you think it isn’t y/n?” yujin, one of woonhak’s freshman friend piped up. “pay attention dumbass, she wasn’t at the ball” came hyunseo’s snarky reply as yujin let out an ohhh.

woonhak’s sighed as he sat up from the grass of the football turf. his friends continued to bicker as he packed up his belongings to head to detention. “enjoy detention hyung!” yujin called out as hyunseo giggled. “yeah, with y/n” she teased as woonhak smiled at their antics.

seriously, almost all their friends knew that he liked her, how didn’t she see it?

“what’s up shawty—oh i’m sorry mrs. moon” he mumbled with bright red ears as he scurried away to the seat next to you. mrs. moon let out an amused smile while you tried your best to stifle your laughter. “ah stop alreadyy” he whined as you continued to giggle.

shit your perfumed was so distracting today, it had hit him with its sweet scent today morning when he got them into detention too. he smiled to himself as they got to work with the detention essays.

an hour had passed already as woonhak lied down with his head facing yours, gazing silently at you who was fast asleep on your desk. he smiled to himself as you mumbled something softly in your sleep, rustling a little as some hair fell on your face. god, his hand yearned to move it away from your face but he held back.

“you’re practically shooting heart eyes at her you know” came the voice of mrs. moon as she observed the scene with great interest.

“it’s nothing new mrs. moon…she’s the only one who hasn’t seen them” he said softly, still not taking his eyes off the sleeping girl. his hand ghosted above your face, seriously itching to brush those stray hairs away.

ah young love, mrs. moon thought as she smiled at the scene. “try the back entrance near the turf, mr. lee is taking another detention near the front entrance” was all she said as she got up to pack her bag, shooting woonhak a small wink. his confused expression turned into a huge smile which he sent mrs. moon.

mr. moon truly was the best, he wanted to give her the biggest hug in that moment.

꒰ 🍵 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

“psst—hey y/n!”

“….goaway”

“detention’s over dumbass”

you woke up to meet woonhak’s face inches away from yours. the last time he was that close to you was when you kissed—

stop. stop thinking about that. stop thinking about his lips—

he stepped back quickly, clearing his throat as you registered your surroundings.

“get up sleeping beauty, we have to escape”

you sat up with bleary eyes as woonhak grabbed your hand, pulling you up. well that definitely had you a little awake as you looked at his nonchalant demeanour as he casually interlinked your fingers. ok, you two were really good friends, this is normal, yeah.

“ok…now we run” woonhak said once you two were near the class door.

“what—“

you had no time to process as you found yourself dashing across the corridor with a hand in woonhak’s own. the wind whipped across your face as he laughed at your bewildered cry of “why are we running??”

“who’s there!” came a roar from the classroom you ran past. fuck, mr. choi. “shit!” woonhak yelled as he sprinted faster, nearly causing you to trip in the process.

“fuck your never ending spaghetti legs kim woonhak!” you hollered as mr. choi’s shouts faded into the background. the evening glow of the sun was nothing compared to his bright smile as he whooped, he was now running next to you as both of you started laughing at the thrill of it all.

“that was—oh my god!” you giggled as the two of you slowed down while panting and breathing in. his hand was still in yours, you realised, but you didn’t want to tell him that, in the fear of him pulling it away.

“should we get some food?” woonhak murmured, taking in their surrounding area which was the neighbourhood filled with eateries and stores near his house; a popular stop for your classmates who went on dates. you really hoped he didn’t realise that (though a part of you was hoping he brought you here on purpose).

“sure” you said as you led him to the nearest ice cream shop.

her hand is still in mine, whatamisupposedtodo.

woonhak hoped you didn’t notice how sweaty his palm was, how couldn’t it be? he was sure he’d been holding your hand for more than a solid fifteen minutes for now and just how were you so calm about it??? his insides were nearing combustion and here you were happily looking at the different ice cream flavours.

“one cookies and cream and a mint chocolate please!” you chirped as woonhak smiled at himself. you remembered his usual order—

of course you did, you two always had ice cream together, why was he so giddy about this?

“are you guys together? there’s a couple’s discount along with a cake on the house if you are!” the guy behind rhe counter who’s tag read ‘jaehyun’ quipped.

“ah actually—“

“yes we are!”

woonhak’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he stared at you. you on the other hand squeezed his hand as you turned towards jaehyun with a smile.

“great! please have a seat over there!” he replied cheerfully as he shot you two a grin.

“what was that about??” woonhak said as soon as you sat down, his hand was unfortunately no longer in yours as he sat on the opposite of you.

“hey, you gotta seize the opportunity” you said while taking a bite of your ice cream.

moments like these, where you nonchalantly and so easily made his heart flutter, was the reason he was charmed by you. “you could’ve said that you wanted free cake” he grumbled, trying to hide his flushed cheeks.

“hey! does the idea of being my boyfriend sound that bad” you scoffed, causing his eyes to widen. you really had to applaud your acting skills because you were mentally screaming in your head, for when had you gotten this bold??

“t-that’s not what i meant! stop twisting my words!” woonhak cried dramatically, causing you to laugh. “by the way, how’s the search for your mystery girl going?” you slowly asked.

“i swear to god— the amount of people who obviously aren’t the dove girl are all up in my dms, i know that they aren’t her!” he insisted.

“how do you know they aren’t?”

“i’m telling you, they literally had pics of themselves in different dresses posted and yet they’re trynna tell me they were the dove girl!”

“never mind then” you said.

“but one of them seems suspicious you know”

he said suddenly. your ears perked up at this, this was a positive sign!

“who?”

“you know seowon right?”

know her? your insides deflated at his question. of course you knew her. woonhak’s dance partner for last year’s yearly festival. she was a trainee from STAR entertainment and honestly? she had always had a thing for woonhak, literally everyone could see it. you were sure he probably did at some point too, given the chemistry they had, maybe he still does-

“y/n?” you jolted as woonhak snapped his fingers in front of your eyes.

“ah seriously how are you sleepy already? you literally snoozed an hour ago!” he complained as you scowled playfully at him.

“as i was saying…seowon had a picture of herself wearing an orange dress on her profile—it isn’t clear enough but it looks…”

bingo.

“then it could be her!” you said in false excitement.

“i don’t know…it doesn’t feel like it’s her…” he said unsurely.

“tell you what, i’ll spy on her tomorrow” you said seriously. oh you will, you had a clear plan now and couldn’t wait to spill this to eunchae (you were a 100% sure she’d jus call you a dumbass but still!).

“you’re gonna look like a creep” woonhak wrinkled his nose.

“oh shut up hak”.

꒰ 🍵 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

“you’re the most dumbest dumbass i’ve ever met y/n y/l/n” eunchae declared the next day as you two drove to school in your car.

“i don’t even know what she did but i agree” came mr. yoon’s voice from the drivers seat as you made a sound of betrayal.

“mr. yoon! how could you?” you cried as he snickered.

“no seriously y/n! you wanna talk to seowon and ask her to be the mystery girl? are you hearing yourself?” eunchae repeated your plan in disbelief.

“he already thinks it’s her chae, it’ll be the best way to close this case” you sighed.

“you could just tell him, that it was you you know, why are you doing this to yourself?”she questioned softly. she really hated seeing you hurting yourself while always placing others before you.

“because i know, he’d never see me in the same way again if i do chae” you said sadly.

“i’d rather be sad while seeing him happy with someone who isn’t me than lose him completely”.

AN HOUR LATER~

why you put yourself in these kind of places you had no idea. yet here you were, hiding behind a bathroom stall as you ‘spied’ on seowon and her friends who were busy talking two eachother.

“come on! it so was you seowon that night at the ball” one of the girls gave a little squeal.

“yeah! why don’t you fess up to kim woonhak?”

“you two are practically made for eachother you know” another swooned as seowon shyly exclaimed.

“stop it you guys!”

well. they seemed to be fixed on the fact that their friend was the one. no wonder woonhak was a bit suspicious. “but you know, he asked us if you were with us at the ball, and we said you weren’t” another girl replied.

your ears perked up at this, you could weave a story with this one that’ll seem convincing…right?

the bell rang at that moment as you heard the shuffling of their feet while they walked out of the washroom. you stepped out a minute later but stopped due to your phone ringing. oh it’s mom.

“hello—“

“y/n, we have to attend director min’s party next week.”

it’s like she only cared about you when you had to attend events like this. not once did she ever call to check up on you or ask you about your day.

“—so you’ll have enough time to find yourself a date, bring woonhak if you’d like” her voice came through the speakers.

“okay, love you mom” you said.

“hmm”. the line went dead.

you put the phone down, trying to ignore the tears prickling your eyes. seriously why were you acting up today? this was nothing new anyways.

but why did you feel like your heart was being crushed into a million pieces?

“find a date…shit”.

꒰ 🍵 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

“put that phone away mr. popular, we have fifteen minutes left!” jihoon chided a busy woonhak, who was currently groaning at the number of dms in his account.

“i don’t get it…they all obviously aren’t the dove girl so why are they—oh?”

“what now?” jihoon said, exasperatedly as he peeked into his friend’s phone.

“kang seowon?” he added, puzzled as he read the dm she sent.

“what…the fuck” a hushed whisper came from him as woonhak stared at the message, expressionless.

꒰ 🍵 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

you walked back towards your classroom after lunch, discussing the ‘date’ situation with haerin.

“i’m assuming you’ll ask woonhak then” she said as you pondered. that could work.

“you’re right…i’ll check with him and return, save me a seat!” you called out as you made his way towards his class, did he have math or science in the next period?

“yo woonhak, i—“ you faltered as you saw him in a serious conversation with none other than kang seowon. she was smiling shyly at him while he had a blank expression on him.

“y/n hi!” she chirped at you. “i was just asking woonhak if we could meet next saturday, as a little get-to-know-eachother hangout!”

this was it. you had done all the spying for nothing after all. you should’ve been feeling happy, relieved even. yet, why did you feel like everything was crumbling down?

“r-really? that’s cool! you said with faux enthusiasm, missing the look woonhak gave you. “that’s a really good idea you know—“

“y/n can i talk to you?” woonhak cut you off with a serious expression.

“hak what happened?” you said once he pulled you to the corner near the classroom. you could see seowon peeking at your direction curiously.

“is it really cool? with you? he questioned with the same expression.

“think about it, it’ll make it easier to find out if she’s the dove girl or not!” you explained as his expression morphed into an unreadable one.

“is that really what you think?” he asked.

“yes woonhak” you smiled, ignoring the growing lump in your throat.

his eyes refused to meet yours. he had seen this coming anyways, yet it hurt like a thousand needles every time you sent him reminders like these. reminders that make his remaining hope want to extinguish itself completely.

“i’ll see you next week” seowon said while walking away, with a coy smile which she directed at him. he felt nothing though, just like how he felt nothing when he saw her message where she asked him to meet up. she might be dove girl though woonhak, he told himself, hoping to get some of his optimism back with the possibility. yet he couldn’t bring himself to.

“what were you going to tell me? earlier when you came here” he asked as you faced him.

“huh? oh—nothing really” you muttered, suddenly gazing at the ground beneath you with interest.

“okay then” he said, stepping away with hands in his pockets.

“have fun…next week” you let out, giving him a weak smile.

“thanks” he replied with a dry smile as he walked away to his class.

you stared at the direction where he walked off to with a whirlwind of emotions swirling in your mind. god your head hurt. everything made no sense right now, wasn’t this what you wanted?

yeah. this wasn’t the time to overthink.

you needed a date, and there was no way in hell you were going to ask woonhak now. not when he had a date on the same day.

꒰ 🍵 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

you had reached home a little later than usual, mr. yoon was visibly concerned at the change in your usually chatty behaviour after school but decided not to bring it up.

he was however, a hundred percent sure that it involved your best friend woonhak though, seriously everyone was able to see how head over heels you were for him.

your mood indeed was pathetic. all you wanted to go home and do was eat a heavy meal and sleep, to temporarily forget the events that took place today. however you had a terrible surprise waiting for you, as you were greeted by a face you absolutely detested, once you entered your house.

“y/n! it’s great to see you here, you look beautiful as usual” drawled eunbin, who shot you a sleazy smile. yuck.

“eunbin, i wish i could say the same” you deadpanned, ignoring his eyes that roamed over your frame. yuck again.

sung eunbin was the son of your mother’s senior at work, whom you often met at the events you accompanied your mother to. and every single time he attended, he made sure to let you know that he was single and ready to mingle.

seriously, he always managed to give you the ick whenever you met him.

“y/n! get ready and join us for dinner, meanwhile you can show eunbin your room!” your mom called out, further dampening your mood. seriously, today had to be one of the most annoying days ever.

“how’re you feeling about the party next week? i take it that you don’t have a date?” he jeered as he followed you to your room. jeez this guy couldn’t take a hint to save his life.

“it really isn’t any of your business you know” you shot back as you slammed the door to your room shut. if only you could skip dinner and be in here forever.

“seriously though, i don’t get why you never let me be your date” eunbin said the minute you stepped out of your room, dressed in formal attire.

“i mean, i’m practically doing you a favour, given you being single and all…” he smirked cockily at your irked expression.

oh he was really testing your patience today. scratch that, the entire world was testing your patience today.

“who said i was?” you snapped back, without realising the words that came out of your mouth.

“oh?” his eyebrows flew up into his hairline. “do enlighten me”.

“yeah, i’ve got a boyfriend”.

just what did you land yourself into?

a/n pt.2: im literally posting this at 1:30am rn so i’ll recheck for any errors in the morning! meanwhile do like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! feel free to comment to be added to the taglist, and stay tuned for pt.3!!

🖇️: @woonagi-lemon @luvhanniex

[sohnric]

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?

[starlightxsvt]

— Gentleman | h.js (M)

genre ➳ sugar daddy au, strangers to lovers, pwp, angst and fluff. part of the Sugar Spice and Everything Nice project.

pairing ➳ dom!Joshua x sub!inexperienced!female reader

word count ➳ 21.2k

warnings ➳ profanities, ANGST, abandonment issues, toxic family, minor character death, mentions of addiction (drugs), emotional constipation, arguments, kissing, marking, age gap, daddy kink, hard dom!joshua (he is a gentleman in the streets and a freak in the sheets literally 🥴) brat!reader, so much teasing!!! bdsm themes- nipple play, marking, fingering, ice play😳, spanking (belt), pussy slapping, crying, female oral, cum eating, virgin sex, rough sex, unprotected sex(don't do this irl!!!), creampie, multiple sex scenes (lmk if I forgot smth)

synopsis ➳ a silly dare leads you to him and he has you charmed quickly. but matters of the heart can never be that easy, especially when you want to avoid them.

playlist ➨ sugar daddy- queen herby // sugar- maroom 5 // guys my age- hey violet // i know you care- ellie goulding // astronomy- conan gray // tell it to my heart- meduza // soory- halsey // one last night- vaults // i fell in love with the devil- avril lavinge // imperfect love- seventeen

a/n: (yes this is a re-upload, I hate Tumblr it still isn't showing my post in tags wtf) and at last we're at the end of this journey! I can't tell you how much of a pleasure it has been for me to share this series with you all. i gotta admit I went all out for this one like-jsvvabakasbvsvs joshua is such a freak here and it's hawt okay. i'd also like to sincerely apologize for the delay. now, without further ado, get cozy and happy reading!

His eyes are extraordinary, captivating.

They are beautiful and dark, shaped like a deer's, watching your every movement cautiously. You do the same as your hands fidget with the strap of your bag on your lap. The waiter returns, bringing you your iced tea and a cup of latte for him. You quickly take a sip of your tea, letting the refreshing drink bring back life in your throat as he does the same.

You observe him, eyes peeking over the rim of the glass. He's wearing a black suit with a plain white tee beneath it. The only jewelry on him is a Rolex, sitting cozily on his wrist, which is quite veiny. His dirty blond hair is pushed back neatly, the length long enough to reach the nape of his neck and you mindlessly muse how they'd feel to touch.

"So, you are saying this was a dare?" The man questions.

An embarrassed smile creeps on your face. "Yeah, my friends dared me to do this. And I saw some good reviews about this app so I decided, why not."

Meeting this stranger, a potential sugar daddy was a task assigned to you by your friends after a drunken night full of talks about your celibate lifestyle. Not wanting to look like a coward, you took on their dare and decided to sign up on a sugar dating app that led you to meet this beautiful man in front of you; something you entirely did not expect.

What you expected, instead was a fifty-something man, old and gross and you had planned to just entertain him for a while before announcing this was a stupid dare and never coming near him again. 

Yeah, that was the plan. 

After all, the texts you had exchanged with this man weren't really a solid way to figure out his age. They were short and brief, just introductions and the designated place of meeting. His profile picture wasn't frankly very giving either; a silhouette of a man sipping on a wine glass with an aesthetic backdrop. You had decided not to ask for a photo or any other information because you didn't want to lose interest even before going on that date.

But turns out, there had been a pleasant surprise waiting for you.

"That's all good but what I need to know is are you really looking for a sugar daddy? Otherwise, I should get going." The man, Joshua, states, hands coming to rest on top of the table, his eyes serious yet gentle. He has this calm yet dominating aura surrounding him and you can't help but admit that it draws you in.

Am I looking for a sugar daddy?

You haven't considered this seriously until now. It was supposed to be a one-time thing, meeting an old dude and flipping him off just so you can tell your friends you tried and ended up meeting a grandpa with stinky feet but now that a young, handsome billionaire sits opposite to you, you find yourself reconsidering everything. 

This is a marvelous opportunity for a broke college student like you. Your bills and loans will be paid while also providing a much more comfortable life for you, one where you don't have to live in an apartment the size of a shoebox.

"Are you looking for a sugar baby?" You ask him instead. The corners of his mouth turn upwards slightly as he replies, "I'm here, aren't I?" 

You nod, reclining into the chair and sighing deeply. "I do actually. Need a sugar daddy, I mean. Like— I haven't really considered this seriously because...well," you shrug, not wanting to point out how pleasantly surprised you are seeing him and all his hotness. You don't want to butter his ego on the first meeting. "Anyway, yes. I have bills and loans to pay. So I guess I'll be your sugar baby...if you're interested."

He watches you amusedly, his eyes shining in mirth. "Of course I am. I must admit I find you very... fascinating. It will be my pleasure to be in your company."

Fascinating, huh?

"You've known me for like ten minutes."

"And that's enough." He decides, reaching for his latte to take a sip, never breaking eye contact with you. You wait for him to explain further and he takes the hint as he links his fingers together, once again resting them on the table, his posture all business-like. "I've never had a sugar baby but I assure you, you don't have to do anything that you're not comfortable with. For now, I'd like you to attend events with me as my date."

Such a gentleman.

"I'm more than happy to do that." You say gladly, trying to prevent a smile from breaking into your face. Is it gonna be this easy? Do men this nice and sweet even exist anymore? "But I don't understand why you would go out of your way to spend money for some company. I'm sure there is plenty of people...interested."

Joshua chuckles. "But I'm not interested in them. They are predictable and have a rather plain personality. I thought taking a new approach would be good. And I'm glad I did because you seem quite like a handful."

"I'll take it as a compliment." You mutter dryly, eyes narrowing on him. He laughs, his eyes forming half-moons. "It was a compliment, _____. I'm looking forward to spending time with you."

You open your mouth to reply but the loud ringing of his phone interrupts you as he mumbles an apology, fishing out the device from his pocket. He frowns at the screen before sighing. "I'm really sorry but I need to get going. I'll contact you. And if you need me, you know my number." He flashes you a dashing, almost flirty smile as he stands up and nods at you before accepting the call and marching out of the place, leaving you in a daze.

You can't believe that just really happened. You have a freaking sugar daddy now— not an old man with a huge belly and stinky feet but a young, hot gentleman. Shaking your head amusedly you fetch your phone from your purse and tap on your group chat with your girlfriends.

GUYS YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED!!! I NEED TO THANK YOU TWO!!

-

"So you're saying he's young and handsome and polite?" Kira asks for the hundredth time, sighing wistfully. "Damn, maybe I should try that app too."

"You really should." You take a bite of your french toast. "All the reviews I saw were great but I can't believe I got so lucky."

Naomi murmurs under her breath, "Fuck yeah, you did girl." Her fingers glide over her phone as she googles the man centering on the topic of your discussion. "Joshua you said? Of Hong Corporations?" 

Humming, you nod, watching your friends as they hover over the phone, intently watching all the information that shows up. "He's so damn hot," Naomi whistles, giving you a dirty look. You roll your eyes and before you can make a comeback, Kira asks bluntly. "You're gonna have sex with him right? He wants to get dirty with you, right?"

You groan, tossing the napkin by your plate at her. "Shut up! Sorry to disappoint but he actually said that he won't do anything that'll make me uncomfortable. He didn't seem desperate for sex."

"Such a gentleman," Naomi pipes in, her voice dreamy. "But what's the fun in that! He's literally sex on legs! You gotta do it with him!" Kira's voice is loud, so loud that a few heads from the surroundings tables turn to look at you, making your face burn in embarrassment. Kira giggles sheepishly before whispering. "Seriously. It's time you pop your cherry."

You scowl at her while Naomi snorts, covering her face as she tries to laugh discreetly. You sigh. "You all are moving way too fast here. I just saw him once! What if he decides he doesn't wanna do this? I've yet to hear from him." You murmur, your voice more anxious than you would have wanted it to be.

A somber look settles on their faces as your friends watch you sympathetically for a while. Kira reaches out to grab your hands in reassurance. "Hey. Babe, it's gonna be all good. Of course, he'll call you. He's a freaking businessman. He wouldn't have wasted his time if he was not interested."

"Yep. You just need to be patient _____. Don't worry so much. Trust the process." Naomi smiles at you softly. 

"Good things don't really happen to me, so..." You avert your gaze, chewing on your lower lip. You hate yourself for ruining the mood, for feeling pathetic and doubtful. 

Old habits die hard, you suppose.

"Hey," Kira calls for you. "It's gonna be all fine. Trust yourself, okay? And you know what, let's stop talking about him. You won't believe what Soonyoung asked me last night."

"What?" Naomi asks dryly as you both wait for her answer. "He freaking asked me if he can buy a tiger suit for us so that he can fuck me while wearing it." She replies as your jaw falls loose.

"No way!" You and Naomi yell at the same time. "Oh my god, he's fucking nuts." Naomi groans and so do you as you ask. "What did you say? Please tell me you didn't—"

Kira interrupts. "I said yes. I mean, I don't mind. I'm kinda interested, actually."

"Oh, sweet lord!"

"No fucking way!" You and Naomi gag.

-

Everyone has ups and downs in their lives. But for the majority of your life, you remember only experiencing downs. At first, it frustrated you to no end, making you feel unbelievably lost and hopeless but now you've come to accept it. You try to be content with what little you have and you always keep your expectations to the lowest.

College has been hard and expensive but the thought of letting go of your dreams is harder. Your dreams are what have kept you alive and strong through all the downs you have faced, so even though you had to take a huge loan and juggle two part-time jobs, you tell yourself it will all be worth it in the end. And maybe, fate has finally smiled upon you by bringing Joshua to you.

It has been two days since you met him and you have to admit anxiety is settling in your bones. The radio silence is disheartening, making you expect the very worst, like a habit. As you sit in your bed and overthink all your brain juices out, your phone rings, making you jump. The caller ID is unknown and with a frown, you pick it up.

"Hey. It's me."

It's him. Joshua.

Your heart beats loudly.

"Hi."

"Sorry, I was really busy the last few days. But I expected your call." He says.

"You said you'd call me." Your voice has an edge to it, almost like a sad lover who had been waiting for her boyfriend to call.

He laughs softly. "That I did. I apologize. And I was hoping you could accompany me to a dinner this Friday."

You bite your lip. "I don't mind. I mean, I'm free."

"Lovely." He hums. "I'll send you the contract of your payments via email. Let me know if you have any complaints."

"Oh...okay. I will."

"Good. I need to get going," he sighs. "I'll see you this weekend, sweetheart. Dream of me." He hangs up with a promise.

Letting out a wistful sigh, you take a look around your tiny apartment, all your things filling up every inch of available space and leaving barely any room for air. Sighing, you fall back into your bed, smiling softly. 

It's all about to change.

-

The past three weeks have probably been the most eventful weeks of your life. Joshua was quick to welcome you into his circle as you first showed up with him at the company dinner. The money that you are being rewarded with after every appearance is equal to months of your rent and let out a squeal of glee when you checked your bank account the next morning. 

However, his generosity didn't stop there. Over the weeks, he has sent you the prettiest bouquet of flowers with little thank you notes, sometimes chocolates too. He also sent over a pair of designer shoes and a handbag, making you almost faint as you felt the smooth, luxurious item below your fingertips for the first time. Sure, you expected to be a bit richer after agreeing to go out with him but you didn't expect these random, dare you say, romantic gifts every often.

Over the last few weeks, Joshua has also developed a habit of coming over to your place, just to chat while having a meal. It surprisingly feels nice and comfortable; his presence in your tiny house finally giving you a sense of belonging so you always agree without a second thought. Though the embarrassment you felt the first time he showed up at your minuscule apartment was astronomical even though you shouldn't have. You were scared he was going to judge you based on your living conditions or worse, pity you but he did none of that and simply made himself at home.

However, today, he has asked you to come over to his place, saying that he had his chef come over to help him with the food. You agree immediately as the thoughts of spending the rest of the day with him make you brim with excitement. You put on the nicest clothes you have and do a little makeup, a habit you've picked up ever since you've been with him; wanting to look your very best around him. You sling the Chanel bag he has gifted you over your shoulder and just as you are about to put on your shoes, your doorbell rings, perplexing you.

It's noon. You're not expecting anyone. 

With a frown, you open the door and immediately, discomfort and annoyance settle into your bones as you meet your eyes with the visitor.

It's your sister.

With a rather bitter expression, you stand there, not welcoming her in or speaking but that doesn't faze her. With an exaggerated grin, she pushes past you. "Hey, sis."

Her tone makes you think she's mocking you and you huff, closing the door and turning around as you watch her scan your space with a rather judgemental stare. "What do you want, Melissa?" Your tone is snappy but you don't care. She feigns hurt, plopping down on your little sofa as she flips her hair over her shoulder. 

"Can't I pay my little sister a friendly visit?"

"The same sister that you tried to get rid of? The one you didn't bother calling the past six months? Yeah, you can't." You hiss, your gaze burning into her. "Leave. I've somewhere to be."

Her eyes scan you up and down before settling on your Chanel bag. "Wow, nice bag. Where did you get that?" She asks with a smirk on her face. You sigh. "It's a knock-off."

She hums, probably not buying your words but you don't care. She has no business poking her nose into your life.

"What do you want?" You ask again, exasperated. Your day is ruined. You were so looking forward to seeing Joshua and now she shows up unannounced.

"Mom called. She needs money and I don't have it. Why don't you help her?" Your sister announces, nonchalantly, scrutinizing her fingernails. You immediately see red and your blood boils at her attitude. "Oh yeah? Well, I stopped caring since she walked out on us." You hiss. Your sister huffs in annoyance. "I don't care whether you care or not. Just give her some damn money."

"You really have no remorse." You chuckle mirthlessly, shaking your head in disbelief. "You and I both know you've more money than me yet to come to me, asking for it when I'm barely getting by. Not to mention how you tried to get rid of me— got rid of me, I should say, and now you're here, shamelessly asking me for money. How despicable."

Your sister glares at you as she abruptly stands up, seething, "You ungrateful bitch! At least I took care of you until you were eighteen!"

"Took care of me?" You scoff. "Sure, yeah. Since I'm an ungrateful bitch, I'll continue being that by not giving you or my goddamn mother any penny because I don't have any and you fucking know it!"

"Well, you definitely have enough to buy a fucking Chanel!" She hisses, "Don't think I'm stupid, _____."

"You know what, maybe I have enough to buy this or maybe I stole it. It's none of your business either way." You grit your teeth. "But I don't have enough to spend a penny for mom, especially when I know she'll waste it away drinking and gambling!"

She scoffs. "You really are still a selfish little bitch."

"Fuck you, Melissa. Get out of my house. I don't want to see you ever again."

She rolls her eyes, cursing you under her breath as she pushes past you and slams the door loudly on her way. Angry, hot tears that you've been holding until now start streaming down your face as your knees give up and you sink onto the floor, trying to keep more tears from falling.

No matter what you do, where you go your past just doesn't seem to let you go. You idly wonder if you would ever be able to get rid of it, forget its constant looming presence over your shoulders, holding you back from fully living your life.

A text seems to have been sent as your phone alerts you and blinking through the tears you check it. It's Joshua, asking if you are still coming or if you have changed your mind. You shake your head, smiling humourlessly at the text before you get up and try to collect yourself, wiping at your face so that you don't look like you've been crying like a madwoman.

Maybe having some good wine and delicious food in the company of a delicious man will help you get your mind off things.

-

"Hey there." Joshua smiles sweetly as he opens the door to his penthouse and moves aside, letting you in. He's dressed in a black fitted tee and grey slacks, a simple, slightly unnatural look on him as you have only seen him in suits until now. But he doesn't look any less gorgeous.

Your mind blanks out for a second as you stare at his chest, bulky and solid, a clear outline visible over his tee and you wonder how it'd feel to touch. Murmuring a shy greeting, you step into his foyer, large and shiny and absolutely breathtaking.

"Come in. I've prepared some snacks for us before dinner."

Joshua moves towards his kitchen while you look around the place, mesmerized. The main foyer of his house bathes in sunlight, courtesy of the floor to ceiling windows. Attached to the foyer is his modern, state of the art kitchen and dining area, all in various shades of white and grey. The area is spacious and bright, decorated with elegant pieces of furniture and fluffy rugs and gold framed abstract paintings.

"You have a pretty house." You murmur, not finding much else to say. His laughter can be heard. "Thanks. Would you like something to drink?" He turns around and offers you as you start taking off your jacket and set it next to your purse.

"Water please." You mumble, taking a seat by the dining table. He comes back with two glasses of water before serving some fancy looking appetizer, made by him and announces that you're having an early dinner as it cooks in the oven.

He sits opposite to you and talks animatedly, no doubt that he genuinely enjoys your company. It's not that you don't enjoy his, in fact, you love it, hearing his sweet yet slightly throaty voice and looking at that pretty face makes you forget about everything horrible in your life. He talks about the story behind this place, about how he actively participated in its making and you can clearly see he adores his house. You've also picked up his love for cleaning and maintaining his space; a rare sight for the male population you've encountered so far, especially someone like him.

The way he gracefully moves around the kitchen while conversing with you, you can tell he's a pro in this department too. Is there anything this man can't do?

Dusk falls as you both chat away, talking about everything and nothing and you don't even realize it's been hours. Your dinner has finished cooking and he starts setting up the plates as you pour some wine for the two of you. It doesn't escape you that he has not asked anything remotely personal about you when you expected him to. Is he being polite? Or is he not interested?

Your thoughts are interrupted as he brings dinner to the table and serves you, a sweet smile on his face as he waits for you to try his food.

"This is delicious." You try not to moan as you chew your first bite. His eyes crinkle in happiness as his melodic laugh rings in your ears. "Thank you. My chef helped too."

You hum, happily stuffing your face with food. You don't know if it's the delicious food; a huge change from your regular, cheap, ramen or toast, or his company that has increased your appetite. You genuinely enjoy his company, probably more than you should have and half of you don't want to return to your storeroom of a home tonight.

You need to get yourself together.

"_____?" He calls for you, jolting you out of your train of thoughts as you blink at him. "Is there something that's bothering you?"

"Huh?" You're fairly perplexed.

He shakes his head. "No, it's just that... You looked troubled earlier when you arrived. And you seem to be getting lost in your head, that's all."

Oh, he's quite the observer.

"I'm sorry," you murmur, eyes cast on your plate. 

"No!" He quickly speaks, making you jump slightly. "No...you don't have to be sorry. I just wanted you to know that you can share your worries with me. If you feel comfortable, that is."

His gentle voice and soft gaze crumble down your defenses as you stare at the beautiful man and try not to start crying. You can't believe he actually noticed all that.

"Family issues. My mom...my sister." You find yourself uttering the words without much thinking. It's alarming how much he brings your guard down.

He doesn't say anything or ask for an explanation but watches you, his gaze reassuring and soft. You sigh, trying to get your thoughts together and just letting it all out. "Well, uh...my mom...she left me and my sister when I was... twelve I think. She found drinking and snorting cocaine more interesting than her daughters, I guess. But she always wasn't like this. Yes, she had a history of addiction but it improved after she married dad. Things were good until my dad passed away. She returned to her old habits after that."

You swallow, trying not to choke up on your words. Joshua watches you carefully his hand stroking your knuckles as it rests on the table. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." He whispers.

You don't yet you do. You've been keeping it bottled up inside you for so long that you don't want to stop now, even though you'll probably regret it later.

"Anyway, she went her way and left me with my sister." You continue. "It's safe to say she didn't like me. I was the unplanned child, of course, so she was more negligent with me. Anyhow, my sister wasn't exactly fond of me either and I guess she isn't fully to be blamed because she was barely an adult herself. We stayed with our aunt for a while before she turned eighteen. Then she had to take care of me and she wasn't quite happy with it. We fought a lot. She'd neglect me, make me do everything in the house while she brought her friends over and stuffs. When I confronted her about it things would get ugly. I made it through before I turned eighteen and then I left her. Thanks to the money my father left us individually, I got through somehow. And my sister got married last year." You take a sip of your wine, before continuing.

"Her husband is pretty well off. They even have a house. Yet today, she came to me for money. Apparently, mother called her and asked for some cash and she wants me to give her money when I'm barely getting by. I told her to fuck off." You sigh, downing your drink in one go. Your head hurts now. Whenever you think of those shitty people, you are bound to have a headache.

Joshua is silent, watching you with an expression you're unable to decipher and you start getting nervous. Did you scare him off? Does he find you burdening? 

Anxiety almost chokes you up but his voice is kind when he says, "I'm really sorry you had to go through that. You don't deserve it."

His words are basic but they manage to tug at the deepest spots in your heart. You half expected him to offer you money like those obnoxious rich assholes but he sounds genuinely sorry and kind.

"Thank you for saying that." You mutter.

"Thank you for telling me." He says, his eyes meeting yours and the depth of his gaze brings goosebumps on your skin. You swallow, not breaking eye contact with him.

He looks even more beautiful now. Ethereal, like an angel. Gentle and calming and comforting. All the good things that pull you in like quicksand but also dangerous enough to scar you forever.

"Let's watch a movie, hmm?" He suddenly offers. You blink. "I...uhm, would love to. But I should get going."

"You can stay. I'd like it if you did," he says, his eyes watching you carefully. "If you're okay with it of course."

"Really? I can?" You're surprised.

"Why not. Don't take it otherwise. We won't have to do anything. You can take one of the many spare bedrooms I have." He smiles. You gape at him, weighing your options and you definitely don't want to return home tonight. So you whisper, "Okay, I'll stay."

"Great." He grins, standing up. "Let's choose a movie now."

About ten minutes later you sit next to him on the sofa, eyes trained on the romcom playing on the screen. There's a certain amount of gap between the two of you but he's close enough to have you distracted with his smell and warmth. You were never the cuddler type but right now you just want to wrap yourself around him and fall asleep. Maybe you will. Your tipsy mind won't really think twice to do it.

Joshua's hand is stretched out over the backrest of the sofa, occasionally brushing against you're back, unintentionally, you assume. His eyes are trained on the screen. He doesn't seem to notice your lack of focus on the movie or if he does, he doesn't comment on it.

The proximity between the two of you is dangerous, inviting. You distract yourself by playing with the blanket thrown over your legs but ultimately your thoughts land on the enticing man beside you. The room is now chillier than before as the night has fallen and you are thankful for the blanket Joshua had offered you. As you pull it under your chin and try to snuggle it, Joshua turns his head towards you. "We could cuddle...if you want."

You're embarrassed to admit how quickly you agree to it. With an enthusiastic nod, you immediately shuffle closer to him and tentatively rest your head on his shoulder, throwing the blanket over the two of you as his outstretched hand comes to wrap around your shoulder. You sigh, content and comfortable and he seems so too as he relaxes on the sofa.

There are no words exchanged but the atmosphere is cozy as you both watch the TV in silence before your eyelids start feeling heavy.

And soon you drift off in the comfort of his arms.

-

When you wake up you're in a bed. If you had to guess, it would be Joshua's guest room.

Sunlight pours through the large windows draped in silk curtains and you groan, stretching your hands and legs. The bed and the sheets and pillows are the comfiest things you've ever slept on which is probably why you feel so well-rested and at peace; a highly unusual occurrence for you.

After you freshen up, you step out of your room and climb down the stairs in search of Joshua. You find him standing by the dining table, finishing his coffee, a tablet in one of his hands.

As soon as he hears you he looks up and smiles, his eyes crinkling. "Good morning."

"Good morning," you murmur, voice a bit hoarse from sleep.

"I was about to wake you up," Joshua says, setting down the tablet. "I've to leave now. It's sudden but my father's friend suddenly called me this morning and asked me to play golf with him. Can't really say no to him." He shakes his head, clearly not fond of the idea.

"I'm so sorry. You're probably late because of me." You apologize, embarrassed. You've overstayed your welcome.

"No! Not at all." He assures. "In fact, if you want you can stay here today too. Though you'll probably need a change of clothes." His eyes move over your clothing, which you've been wearing since you've come here. "We could have dinner together tonight again. Or, if you'd like to leave, I'll drop you off on my way."

"I think I should leave. I've work to get done at home." You speak and he nods. "Sure but have some breakfast before we leave."

About an hour later Joshua parks his car in front of your building; his Porsche a weird contradiction in this poor, worn-out neighborhood. Unbuckling your seatbelt you smile. "Thank you for the ride."

"My pleasure. Oh and _____?" He calls as you're opening the door. "I've to attend an event tomorrow. A charity event. I'd like you to come with me."

"Sure." You don't have any plans and being with him is easily better than sitting around and moping in your tiny apartment.

"Great." He smiles. "My driver will pick you up at five."

As you exit his car and head into your building, you can't believe how excited you are and how much you're already looking forward to tomorrow. It's been a long long time since you've been this energized and happy and you realize just how much being with Joshua is shaking up your entire world.

-

Draped in a beautiful silk scarlet red dress and with Joshua's strong grip on your waist, you feel like a million bucks. The dress you're wearing today is exceptionally pretty, your favorite one from all that you've worn so far. It is one-sleeved with a sweetheart neckline, flowing down into a long slit that reaches up to your thigh. It's elegant yet playful and dangerous, not quite your type but Joshua seems to like it as you don't miss his eyes raking appreciatively down your leg now and then.

You've to admit it makes you feel excited. For whatever this night has in store.

Which doesn't seem much at first as you walk into the party with Joshua and feel the eyes of many cast at the two of you, mainly you. Men greet Joshua as soon as they see him and the ladies accompanying them scan you too to the bottom, with heavy judgment, maybe a little jealousy in their eyes but you can't bring yourself to care too much.

This is fleeting, after all.

The event comes to an end for the two of you as you finish dinner and as soon as you're done Joshua is escorting you out of the premises and towards his car. You can tell that he got bored with all the mindless chattering and you can't blame him for that. You weren't exactly enjoying yourself either.

As you sit by his side in the limo, Joshua's hands absentmindedly graze the skin of your leg peeking out from the slit. You've noticed he

has been touching you throughout the evening. His eyes are focused outside the window as he speaks. "Have I told you how lovely you look?" His voice is quiet, full of something you can't quite put your finger on as he turns his head to look at you. Not trusting yourself to speak you only shake your head and swallow, the look in his eyes hypnotizing.

Joshua's eyes move to your lips as his thumb reaches out to swipe across the flesh, sending shivers down your spine. He inches his face closer and keeping his eyes on your lips, he whispers, "I want to kiss you, _____. Tell me, do you want it too?" His eyes lock with yours and the flame of passion burning in them makes you weak in the knees.

"Yes," you squeak. There's an unmistakable spark of desire in his eyes as his lips curve upward just a little bit and he presses the button for the privacy screen of the car. 

Then he wastes no time, immediately smashing his lips to yours as one of his hands cup your jawline and the other your waist. The kiss is intoxicating, his warmth and taste overflowing your systems as you become a puppet and let him guide you through it.

When he pulls back, he inhales sharply and the fire in his eyes grows ten times stronger. "We should stop. Before this gets too far."

It's like a bucket of ice-cold water has been splashed on you as you stiffen, your heart breaking. 

Too far? What does he mean by that?

You can't help the bite in your voice, "Do you not find me attractive?"

Damn it. A part of you hates yourself for saying that. Your past insecurities have no room in this relationship.

A look of utter confusion settles on his face. "What?"

"No...it's just, we've been doing this for a while and you've never initiated anything with me. Am I not attractive to you?"

The glint in his eyes is dangerous and you can visibly see his jaw harden. "You've no idea what you are talking about, _____. I did not initiate anything with you because I didn't want to scare you off. I can tell you are inexperienced so I didn't want to make you do something that you're not comfortable with."

He can tell? Heat blares in your face, both from embarrassment and arousal. The look he's giving you right now makes you feel like he's gonna eat you whole and you're not going to stop him. Joshua continues, "But clearly, you misunderstood my cautiousness as disinterest so I've no choice but to prove you wrong." His hands snake around your waist as he utters, "Tell me to stop if you mean it. Otherwise, there's no stopping tonight."

That's it. That's all the warning you get before Joshua moves you onto his lap and kisses you, hard. You are sure your lips are going to be bruised and you don't give a shit. You keep clawing at his biceps and whine as he devours your face, not caring that you are in the back of a limo.

Your needs have reached their breaking point. You're going all in tonight. Whatever regret you have can wait until tomorrow because there is no way you are letting yourself off of this man tonight.

Joshua seems to be on the boat with the idea as even after a nasty make out session in the back of his car he doesn't keep his hands off your body as you both stumble into the elevator and then into his penthouse.

Joshua drags you towards his bedroom, your form gasping for air and stumbling over your heels but you've never felt this alive and excited. He doesn't hide his need for you and it brings a type of feeling to you that you've never felt before.

Powerful. Wanted. Sexy.

Your brain seems to have taken a backseat as you're no longer in control of your body, gladly doing whatever Joshua is making you do. He pushes you onto his bed and kisses you once more before standing back up and loosening the bow tie on his neck. Tossing it away he then starts unbuttoning his shirt, your eyes following each of his steps wantonly.

Once the material is off you can finally see his buffed chest in its full glory and your throat dries up immediately. He's so big and bulky, he could literally crush you with his chest. It's probably worrisome how much that idea seems to appeal to you.

"Up." His voice is husky and you blink, realizing he's telling you to stand up. With shaky legs, you do so and he turns you around to tug down the zipper at the back of your dress. "Take this off," he orders quietly and your hands start moving as you push the one shoulder of the dress down before tugging it lower and lower, down your waist as it finally pools at your feet.

Clad only in your black lacy panties, you can feel his hard stare, penetrating deep into you. While you want to cover yourself, the look of lust mixed with appreciation makes you stay still. Swallowing, you wait for his next words.

"Lie down."

Immediately you do so and watch him crawl over your like a predator. He starts by kissing your lips chastely before moving towards your jawline and then down the column of your neck, nipping and sucking every inch of skin. You gasp and mewl, hands automatically reaching to hold onto his back as you writhe underneath him.

His lips hover over your chest, his warm breath tickling your sensitive skin as he starts by kissing the flesh between your tits. Then he takes a nipple into his mouth and teases it, softly sucking at first before poking the hard bud with his tongue.

His hands stay rooted on your sides, on the bedsheets and the only form of his touch you get is his tongue. It drives you wild; the need to feel every inch of him on you.

"J-Joshua..." You moan.

"Daddy. You call me daddy in bed." It's a command and you immediately nod your head, all too eager to comply.

The man you've known until now is completely gone, no more the sweet, considerate man but instead a lust-crazed man. You never thought you'd be into this but damn if you aren't and you only become more sure when Joshua's crotch brushes against your leaking sex, making you shudder. "Daddy...your fingers please." You mewl, trying to give him your best puppy eyes. Your subconscious shakes her head at how easily the title falls off your lips.

Joshua chuckles quietly, meanly, giving you goosebumps as he keeps torturing your breasts like before. But this time he brings one of his hands down to your core and starts rubbing you gently. Your back arches off the bed slightly as you sigh in pleasure, his touch soothing the burn in your core.

"You want my fingers, baby?" His voice is deep as he removes his mouth from your tits and locks his eyes with you. Surprising you, he slaps your pussy, hard, making your mouth open in a silent scream. "You have it." He hisses and in one smooth motion, thrusts two of his fingers inside you. You squeal, hands fisting the bedsheets tightly as his digits easily slip in due to your overflowing arousal.

"Oh god, yes." You moan, eyes rolling back as you feel his thick fingers move inside you. Paired with the movement of his fingers and the heated look he's sending your way, you know you're not very far from your release. You squeak, "Go-gonna cum."

Joshua scoffs. "So quickly? Horny little baby. Come then. Come on my fingers so I can put my cock in you." His filthy words make you moan out loud as he brings his thumb over clit, rubbing it swiftly and sending you over the edge, face-first into your first, proper orgasm.

It shakes your body as you lie there and feel it wash over you, your pussy spasming repeatedly as he keeps playing with your pussy throughout your high. When you finally come down and your mind starts working again, Joshua pulls his fingers out of you, dripping in your essence and licks his digits clean, never wavering eye contact with you. The erotic sight has your core thrumming once more in the blink of an eye as you mindlessly reach for his pants. "Please. Want you..." Your voice is soft, breathy and Joshua finds it hard to not give into you.

So dropping a kiss on the top of your pussy, he shuffles off the bed and stands up, hands working on removing his belt. Anticipation builds into your veins as you lick your dry lips, eagerly waiting to see him.

And you almost stop breathing when he removes his pants and boxers. His size and girth leave your mouth hanging open and your core clenching around nothing. The phrase hung like a horse was probably invented for him because just thinking about that inside you makes your pussy ache.

You probably won't be able to walk tomorrow.

"Fuck. W-will you even fit?" Your eyes never leave his cock as it bobs in the air, his tip leaking precum. Joshua watches you watch him with utter amusement. "I will, baby. Your tight pussy was made for me." He flashes you a cocky grin as he climbs back on top of you and pecks your mouth.

"Then take me, Joshua. I...I can't wait. N-need you. Take me like this. Wanna feel y-you." You whisper, chasing his lips as you pull his large body against yours and his cock brushes against your pussy.

"Fuck." He curses under his breath as he feels your heat against his sensitive flesh. "Are you sure you are ready for this, sweets? Should I make you come once more?"

His concern brings warmth to your chest but you immediately shake his head and start grinding against his dick. "Wanna come on your cock, daddy."

You've been craving this man for a long time and you will go crazy if you wait any longer.

"Fuck. Such a slut for my cock, aren't you?" He tilts your chin up and pulls your lips in a bruising kiss as you nod. "P-please give it to me."

He groans softly as he taps your clit with his hard shaft, eyes trained on your swollen, dripping hole. "Tell me if it hurts, okay sweets?"

"I will."

His eyes darken as he suddenly lands a slap on your clit. "What's my name?"

"Daddy! Daddy, oh my god!" You squeal, wetness dripping out of you and just as you are recovering from the shock of his spank he thrusts inside you, all the way in one smooth motion. You scream so loud your ears ring, your nails scratching Joshua's back as you cling onto him like he's your lifeline.

He pants harshly on top of you, sweat shining on his forehead as he fights to stay still and let you adjust. Your pussy is stretched to its limits and even though you still feel the sting, you mindlessly grind on his cock, breathy whines leaving your lips.

"Stop doing that or I'm gonna come," Joshua warns but you start moving your hips faster when you're more comfortable with the stretch. "Little vixen," he groans as if in pain, heated eyes watching you. "Come for me." He commands quietly, hands moving to play with your swollen clit as soon as he flicks it with his finger, your release coming crashing down on you and you feel it in every one of your nerves.

Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream as you feel him release inside you, making you clench. You're not surprised when he doesn't stop but continues thrusting inside you, far from being done with you and you feel another orgasm impending. Your pussy hurts in the best ways possible and just thinking about coming once again have your toes curling.

Surprising you, one of his hands move onto your neck, gripping it firmly and applying just enough pressure to make your body curl up and see stars. It triggers your orgasm, multiplying it by hundreds and seeing the godlike man on top of you, reaching his high, his dark, predatory eyes trained on you makes you go off like a rocket. You swear you see God himself as your body completely lets go and you feel like you're floating in a place of pure bliss. The feeling of him releasing inside you makes you shudder, before he slips out and shuffles on the bed, probably cleaning you up but you're too gone to care.

With a blissful smile and a hazy mind, you let sleep take you.

-

Blinding sunlight wakes you up the next morning as you immediately sit up once your brain has processed everything.

You slept with Joshua Hong last night.

Holy shit.

You feel tingles shoot up your leg just by thinking of him and the things you did last night. Nervous and shy, your eyes move around his large bedroom. The time on the wall clock and the looming quietness in the apartment is enough for you to think he has probably left for work. Which is good. You're too embarrassed to face him.

As you get out of bed, awkwardly you must admit due to the ache between your legs, you spot a note lying on the bedside table. Your curious hands reach for it and you smile once you read it.

Good morning. I'm sorry I had to leave early. Help yourself with breakfast before you go. Also, check your bank account. XO

Right. The money. You scan around to find your phone and once you do, you quickly log into your bank app and sure enough, a nice, huge amount of cash sits there, enough to pop your eyes out of its sockets.

Holy fucking shit.

As relieved and giddy you feel seeing the amount, there's a part— one that you hate, of you that feels ashamed, conflicted. Before you start thinking too much you toss your phone away and head toward the bathroom.

You need to stop thinking so much.

-

You were positively kidding yourself when you told yourself to stop thinking too much yesterday morning. Now, a day later, in the evening, you sit by yourself in your shoebox apartment, anxiously chewing on your lower lip.

You spent the day just fine, busy doing your work and not thinking about him or anything regarding him. But now that the night has fallen and you sit idle, your mind can't spot conjuring up the worst scenarios.

You haven't heard from Joshua. At all.

Which has you disappointed. And you are disappointed in yourself for feeling disappointed.

The silence on his part makes you worry to your wit's end. Is it over? Has he gotten tired of you? Did you not satisfy him? Did he forget about you like everyone else?

Your fists clench as your heart breaks a little at the thought. No, no. You don't do attachments. He could just call you right now and say he's done and it shouldn't hurt you. Not one bit. This is just business, you keep telling yourself.

A loud, echoing sound breaks the train of your thoughts and you frown. It's the doorbell. And you are expecting no one.

Especially not Joshua Hong, who you find standing just as you pull open the door. A sound, somewhere between a pleasant gasp and a surprised squeak escapes you as you watch the man in front of you with wide eyes.

"Hey." He gives you a soft, if not a little shy smile. Your heart starts fluttering and you wish you could rip it out of your chest. 

"Hi," your voice is barely audible as you drink him in like you've been thirsty for eons; his large form dressed in a wrinkled black shirt underneath a grey blazer matching his pants. As you look closely, you see exhaustion written all over his face, dark circles under his eyes. 

"May I come in?" His voice makes you snap back into reality as you flush. 

"Sure," you choke, moving away to let him step in.

You watch as Joshua makes himself comfortable on your tiny couch, the furniture squeaking under his weight. As always he seems unbothered by it as he looks at you expectantly, motioning for you to sit on the small remaining space next to him.

As you do so you realize there's a box from a confectioner on his lap and you frown. "For you," he seems to notice your gaze as he pushes the box onto your lap. "I was passing by the area when I saw the shop. I remembered you wanting to try their desserts so I thought I'd get some for you."

Your stomach somersaults at his confession. 

He remembered. He remembered the day on the way to one of his events, you had passed by this shop and the beautiful pastries on display made you say that you'd love to try some. You were not serious and you definitely did not expect him to actually buy those for you.

Tentatively you open the box and the assortment of desserts inside makes your mouth water. You swallow. "Wow... I— thanks, Joshua."

"You're welcome, _____. Consider it as an apology too. I should've checked up on you after yesterday. Work has just been so hectic these days, I barely have time to eat." The sincerity in his voice makes you want to scream. Why? Why does he care so much? Why can't he just be an asshole? Why does he have to show up at your place, being all sweet and considerate?

"It's okay, Joshua." Is what you whisper instead.

"Are you okay, though?" The need in his voice makes you look at him. Your heart stutters as your eyes come in contact. "You could've called me, you know. I kind of hoped you would."

Oh.

You bite your lip. "I... thought I'd be disturbing."

"No, not at all." He frowns, reaching to cup your hands. "You should not hesitate to call me. Even if I can't call you, you can always call me, _____. I mean it."

"Okay." You quickly retract your hands from his as your heart rings loudly in your ears. Being so close to him, touching him, breathing him in is messing with your head. You clear your throat, trying to get up. "Would you like a pastry? Let me make some coffee-"

"Sit down." He grabs your elbow and pulls you down effortlessly, right into his strong arms. Eyes wide, your hand reaches for his solid chest out of reflex and the look in his eyes is enough to drop your panties.

Your throat is parched and your heart is a galloping horse, ready to burst out of your chest as you fist his shirt in your hand. Your eyes land on his lips and you swallow, the urge to kiss them overwhelming and scary.

You want him. You need him. It's utterly terrifying how much you do.

"Tell me you missed me." His voice is quiet, his eyes trained on your lips intently. The timbre of his voice and his tightening grip on your waist make it very, very hard for you to form words.

"Y-yes. I- I did."

He hums, pleased you assume and then leans down to kiss your lips. Softly at first before he's pushing his tongue inside your mouth, a loud whine escaping from your mouth. You twist and writhe in his arms, the taste and feel of him electrifying. Just when you are at the peak of your high, he pulls back, a soft, teasing look on his face.

God. This infuriating, sexy as fuck man.

"As much as I'd love to continue this, I have an early morning tomorrow. And my driver is waiting." He murmurs, pressing soft kisses on your neck which does not help your current state at all. You almost, almost beg him to stay and fuck you but you hold back the words sitting on the tip of your tongue. Instead, you only hum and sigh into his chest, subconsciously snuggling against his large frame.

The security and comfort you feel in his arms is something you've never felt before and something you long desperately.

In silence, Joshua holds you; for how long you have no idea but enough to make you feel drowsy. Maybe he senses it because he lets you go, dropping a kiss on your forehead as he gently moves to stand up. "By the way, are you free this Thursday night?"

"Hmm? Yeah, I am." It takes a moment for you to register his words as you can only concentrate on the missing warmth of his body.

"Great. My friends are having a hangout. You'll be my plus one." He smiles, buttoning up his blazer and surprising you, he leans down and kisses the corner of your lips. "You don't have to see me out. Good night, sweets. Dream of me."

Before you can recover yourself from his sweet, boyfriend-like gesture, he's out the door like a spring breeze. The pounding of your heart seems to echo around your empty apartment as you sit in silence and touch the spot where his lips were moments ago.

This man is doing dangerous things to you, things you don't want to acknowledge. Because you know exactly what it is. 

Love.

-

Yoon Jeonghan is quite the character.

He's the loudest, most teasing, quite literally the brat of Joshua's friend group but you can't say you dislike him.

It's quite the opposite in reality. He has made an impression on you ever since you arrived with Joshua, as he whisked you away from your date and started spewing all types of info about him.

"Gosh, drunk Joshua is the worst. " The man shakes his head as if recalling a certain memory. "The only thing he does is sing Sunday morning and he just doesn't fucking stop. Your ears will literally bleed off."

You can't help but giggle, thinking fondly about drunk Joshua whom you've never seen but wish to. Jeonghan raises his glass of whiskey to yours and clinks them before taking a sip and leaning over the bar counter. "Oh! You won't believe it. Aside from going around advertising himself as the gentleman, one time in college— "

"I think you've said enough, Jeonghan." Joshua emerges from behind you and you soon feel his presence on your back. The man in question throws a lazy smirk at his friend, "Ah, come on. I've so much yet to say. I need to get back at you. You weren't exactly merciful when you told my girl about all the shit I did in college."

You realize they are talking about Jeonghan's girlfriend, now fiance who once used to be his sugar baby. Joshua had shared with you all the juicy details.

"Was just giving her a heads up," Joshua shrugs nonchalantly, one of his hands coming to rest on your shoulder. "And I really wish she was here tonight so you'd leave my girl alone."

My girl.

His girl.

The words make heat spread through your entire body as your brain stops functioning for a second. You almost don't register Jeonghan's wink as he saunters away when his phone starts ringing, saying, "Oh come on, couldn't just leave a pretty girl alone. Oh, hey darling. How is it...."

Too preoccupied with your thoughts you don't realize Joshua is calling for you until he gently shakes your shoulders. "Oh— um, you were saying?"

He watches you with cautious eyes, "I hope Jeonghan didn't bother you too much."

You shake your head. "Oh, no. Not at all. He's a fun guy. Where's his fiance by the way?"

"Went to visit a sick relative with her brother. Jeonghan is gonna drop by there after this."

"Oh, wow. That's sweet."

"Mhmm." He hums distractedly. You feel his eyes rake down your body hungrily and you can't help the giddiness and confidence it blossoms within you. You definitely don't regret the tight evening dress you wore solely for the purpose of teasing him. You can't keep being the only one in this relationship who losses their mind when the other is anywhere near.

"Did I tell you how fucking gorgeous you look tonight?" He asks, shuffling closer to you, too close as large his body presses hotly against yours. You can't help a teasing smile. "Hmm, you may have earlier in the car. Jeonghan also complimented my looks."

On the way here Joshua had been a tease, his hands stroking your naked thighs, hovering dangerously close to your core but never quite touching. He didn't even try to hide how much it satisfied him to see you squirm and you can't complain too much either.

"Stop being a brat," Joshua's voice is deep, ringing with a clear warning but it's too fun not to work up a man so calm and put together like him. So you smirk and stroke the lapels of his blue blazer, batting your eyelashes at him, "What do you mean? I'm just telling the truth."

A deep sound, similar to a growl resonates from his chest as he grabs your waist and pulls you closer. His warm breath hovers over your ear as he trails teasing kisses from there to your jawline. "Don't be a tease if you want to come tonight." He whispers in your ears as your breaths come out as heavy pants. Pulling back like he didn't just promise you a dirty thing he states, "Now come along. We need to be with the crowd or I'll lose my mind and take you home right now."

-

The tension radiating off of Joshua's body is so thick you can taste it on your tongue. It's so much fun, teasing him when he can do nothing about it and you feel so powerful, so pleased. Every time he clenches his jaw and grabs your hand even tighter you have to stop yourself from bursting into giggles in front of the whole table.

Dinner had started a while ago as everyone sat around the large rectangular table, eating and chattering loudly. After you've had a couple or so bites of your steak you had decided to initiate playing with another meat as your hands started traveling to Joshua's thighs, innocent at first. He didn't pay much heed to it, busy conversing with his friends. When you were sure he wouldn't remove your hand, you went bolder, cupping his dick through his pants and rubbing him all over.

The look he sent your way should have been recorded in history books and you really wish you could take a picture. His glare, paired with his gritting teeth made you laugh a little, earning a few looks from other people but you brushed it off. Maybe it was because of the wine or Joshua's generally overwhelming presence but you felt giggly and bold, so you decided not to waste this perfect, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see Joshua Hong lose his shit.

"Your ass is going to pay for this." He threatens quietly but you can't quite take it seriously as you are busy observing the growing bulge in his pants. To know that you have this effect on him makes you feel something unlike ever before. So you just bite your lip and give him a wink, fingers stroking his large thigh.

As soon as dinner was over and Joshua had adjusted his pants, he was dragging you out with him, hastily throwing goodbyes to his friends. Jeonghan gave you two a knowing look before winking cheekily at you making you laugh as Joshua pushes you towards his Audi.

As soon as your ass hits the passenger's seat, Joshua is starting the car, driving off at an alarming speed.

"You made me consider drinking and calling my driver to pick us up," he mutters, eyes trained on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. You give him an innocent look, face forming a faux look of concern, "Hmm, you should have. You look so tense, daddy."

His response is a grunt and he grips the wheel tighter; if that's even possible. "Start thinking of a safeword. You're going to need it tonight."

That gets your attention.

"S-safeword?" You breathe. "Yes darling, a safeword." He casts a quick, cocky glance at you and your stomach somersaults.

What has he planned for you? The anticipation and thrill explode in your veins like fireworks as you anxiously tap your foot, wishing you could just transport yourselves back to his place with some machine.

Joshua focuses on getting you two home for the rest of the drive, which he accomplishes, in record time. It's a surprise you weren't pulled over. Before you can even blink he has turned the car off and is dragging you towards the elevator.

Once you are in, he pushes you against the wall and smothers his lips to yours, wasting no time. The ferocity in his movements elicits a moan from you as your hands claw his large back. Feeling those tense muscles underneath his blazer makes you let out a whine of need, though it is muffled with his tongue in your mouth.

The ding of the elevator lets you know you're here and once again, he's making you move in the blink of an eye. Your brain is too fuzzy to keep up with his hasty movements but you have no complaints about being manhandled by Joshua. You kind of wish he'd carry you around like a sack of potatoes.

Damn, what has gotten into you?

Joshua steps into his apartment before you and heads for the kitchen but not before barking an order at you. "Go to the bedroom and strip. I want you only in your panties by the time I'm back."

Your core clenches deliciously at his command. Before your brain is fully processing his command your feet carry you towards his bedroom, where you start peeling your dress off as quickly as possible. Once it's off and you are only in your red lacy panties you scurry towards the bed and sit, your feet dangling from the side, waiting anxiously.

After what felt like ages, which was probably a couple of minutes, the man returns, sauntering into the room with a glass of whiskey in his hand and a small bucket of ice in the other. The dark look in his eyes shoots shivers down your spine and makes your nipples harden.

God, you'd let him do just about anything to you.

"Have you picked out a safeword?" His eyes gaze into you so deeply you're scared you'll end up in flames. You've to swallow to find your voice. "Y-yes. Gentleman."

You have decided to use that word to tease Joshua after Jeonghan told you about how he used to claim to be one back when they were in college.

Joshua snorts, chuckling dryly as he sets down the ice and whiskey on the bedside table. "Always a brat, I see. Well, use it whenever you feel uncomfortable and want me to stop. Are we clear?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes... daddy."

He gives you a salacious smirk and you swear it's enough to make you come. "Good girl. Get on the bed now. On all fours."

On fours? Holy shit.

You blink, taking a moment to process his command before shuffling to the position he wants you to be in.

"Good." He hums and you feel him coming to stand behind you. Then, you feel his movements and the clink of metal makes you realize he's taking off his belt.

"I'm going to spank you with this, do you hear me?" You feel the long piece of leather dangle next to you and your throat dries up.

Holy fucking baby Jesus.

You know he's expecting a response so you choke out one. "Yes, d-daddy."

"What do you do when you feel uncomfortable?"

"U-use my safeword. G-gentleman."

"Hmm, looks like my dumb girl can do more than tease her daddy." He hums, his knuckles stroking your ass cheek, giving you goosebumps. You've to fight to hold yourself up, just the faintest of his touch making your knees and elbows weak.

"We'll go with ten spanks."

Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

"Okay, daddy."

The anticipation is mind-boggling, breath talkingly crazy. You hold your breath and wait for the first strike which comes as a sudden smack, jostling you forward as you let out a moan.

You did not expect to like it so much.

"Okay?" Joshua's voice is quiet, patient and you nod your head vigorously, eager for more, "Yes, yes. M-more, please." You hear him make an amused sound and you would give anything to see his expression right now.

Just as you are getting lost in your thoughts, he delivers the next strike, wringing an equally needy moan from you. Then he delivers three more spanks in quick succession, all on your left cheek as you feel the skin heat up.

"Fuck!" You're out of breath when he lands the sixth strike on your right cheek. "Do you need a moment?" He asks, placing a gentle hand on your lower back. You shake your head, "N-no, please, continue."

The way you are dripping right now is absolutely mortifying and you are more desperate for his dick inside you than your next breath.

Fuck, how can getting your ass whipped turn you on so much?

He smacks your ass three more times repeatedly, as tears blur your vision, then strokes your burning flesh softly, "Such a good girl. One last time." His voice is hushed as you hold your breath, anticipating the end of your torture which comes stronger than ever. The last smack he lands on your ass makes your elbows give up as you whimper and mewl into the sheets.

Immediately you hear Joshua drop the belt before he gently turns you to face him gathering your body in his lap. Your ass feels like it's on fire as it comes in contact with his pants, making you whimper.

"Fuck, such a good little girl. You're so perfect." He praises you quietly, removing the hairs from your face as he rubs your shoulders comfortingly. Your heart gallops in your chest as you watch him look at you with adoration and pride and at that moment you realize you'd do anything to make this man proud.

"Should we take a break? Would like to get something to eat or drink?" He asks, eyes searching yours for discomfort.

Yes, your cock.

You shake your head. "N-no, please. Just fuck me."

That earns you a laugh from him as he shakes his head amusedly, his eyes crinkling in that beautiful manner that messes with your head. "So impatient." He presses a kiss on your temple before gently settling you on the bed and retrieving the belt from the floor. "Scoot up, sweets. Put your head on the pillow."

You swallow, eyeing the belt with wide eyes but do as he asks nonetheless, moving carefully not to scrap your ass too hard against the sheets. Once you are in position he crawls up towards you and then sits on his knees as he ties your hands to the headboard using his belt.

A shiver runs down your spine as you conjure up all the things he might do to you.

"Tell me if it gets uncomfortable, hmm?" He says as he gets up from the bed and picks up the glass of whiskey and takes a sip, heated eyes trained on your vulnerable form. Slowly his gaze travels from your eyes to your lips and then to your breasts before moving even lower. Once he has finished eye fucking you, he moves back into the bed and places himself right over your waist, his thighs around your smaller frame.

With the evilest of all smiles, he leans down to kiss your puckered nipple and then pours the cool whiskey right onto the sensitive bud making you squeal.

"Oh my god!"

You writhe, feeling the liquid drip down your breasts but before it can travel too far Joshua is lapping it all up, his heated tongue moving all over your cold flesh.

You're teetering on the verge of insanity.

"O-oh fuck! Daddy!" You scream. The pleasure is mind-numbing and you aren't even sure if you want him to stop or ask for more. You feel him grin against your skin as he pours more whiskey on your other breast and then continues the same torture on them. You keep howling and writhing helplessly beneath him, your core throbbing with utter need, words of pleas escaping your lips like a mantra.

Once he is satisfied and has left your skin feeling sticky, he takes one of the leftover ice cubes into his mouth and giving you a look of warning he presses it against your nipple.

"Shit!" You scream, legs thrashing around as your back arches from the bed. Your already hardened nipple feels achy and sore now as he teases your areola with the ice between his teeth before pressing it directly on the center of your nipple. As the ice comes in contact with your heated skin it starts to melt and drip down your breasts, making you shiver.

"J-Joshua, please."

"Hmm, not my name now, is it?" He hums, letting the now small, melting piece of ice drip down your chest as he reaches for a new one from the bucket. Taking it between his teeth once again, he gives you a cheeky smirk before pressing it against your other nipple, torturing you until it melts down completely and tears from your eyes trail down your temples.

"Daddy! Fuck! P-please—" as he lets the second cube melt into your skin, he encloses his lips around your over-sensitive nipple and gives it a hard suck, making your brain go haywire.

"Please! No more! P-please, just fuck me..." You whimper, your vision is blurred with tears, frustration getting to you. The urge to be filled with his cock, to reach your sweet release is stronger than ever.

"Sweet girl, begging so nicely," he hums and kisses you softly on the cheek, the action a complete one-eighty to his earlier one. "You need me here baby?" With your eyes shut, you feel the pads of his fingers brush against your clit and you moan loudly, "Yes! Yes, please! Please let me cum."

You hear a noncommittal hum, as if he's still considering it and you have the urge to scream. "Did you learn your lesson, sweets?" He asks and you have to blink as you process his words.

What is he talking about?

Your disorientated look amuses him. He pushes one of his fingers inside you and while his thumb strokes your clit he moves his face towards your dripping core, "Will you tease daddy again?" He asks, his voice low, eyes sparkling.

"No!" You immediately yell. "No! I'm so s-sorry, daddy. P-please, just let me come." Your hips chase his touch needily as you feel your orgasm approaching. Joshua seems to take mercy on you as he starts moving his finger inside you, his thumb stroking your clit harder while his tongue greedily laps up all your arousal. And that's all it takes for you to reach your release and drown in it.

Your scream rings in your ears as your toes curl and your whole body shudders, riding the most intense orgasm you've had yet. Tears burn your eyes and your throat hurts from all the screaming but you don't care, your mind lost in a place of pure lust.

"Good girl. Coming so nicely for me." He whispers, his voice slightly hoarse, his lips wet, eyes trained on your core hungrily.

As you start to come down from your release, Joshua moves off the bed, not before kissing your shoulder sweetly and shoving his fingers into your mouth to lick them clean. Then he stands at the foot of the bed for a moment, watching your helpless form with dark hunger in his eyes.

Ever so slowly, he starts peeling his navy blue blazer from his large shoulders, fully revealing the minty blue turtleneck underneath it. The material hugs his bulky form perfectly, especially around his chest and you mentally take a note to appreciate that part of him sometime later, when you are not tied up and desperate for dick.

"I can see how much you want me," his deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts. "You aren't even trying to hide it, dirty girl. You're dripping all over the bed." He observes, eyes trained between your legs as he peels off the turtleneck and bares his glorious body to your hungry eyes.

If you were dripping before, now you are flooding the bed. The sight of his broad, muscular chest and the sheer dominance radiating from his presence makes you whimper pathetically. And he isn't even fully naked yet.

"P-please, daddy. Please, f-fuck me." You beg.

"I will, sweets. I will." And that's a promise.

He unbuttons his pants and swiftly tugs them down with his boxers, finally revealing the star of the show. His cock is so hard it looks painful and you can see precum oozing out from the tip.

Subconsciously you lick your dry lips. Will he fuck your mouth now? Should you beg for it?

"I know what you are thinking, dirty girl," he muses as he crawls on top of you. "But not today," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss at the top of your pussy and stroking two fingers on your folds to collect your wetness. Keeping his eyes on you, he pops them into his mouth and sucks his fingers, obscene sounds echoing in the room that makes you writhe helplessly.

"P-please..."

Giving you a look of reassurance and promise he shifts so that his cock is positioned right in front of your opening. Tapping your sensitive core with the head of his member, he grunts and then slides inside, in a full thrust.

"Fuck!" You almost come at the overwhelming fullness. "Shit," he groans, eyes shutting down. "So fucking tight, sweets."

Joshua wastes no time, increasing his pace as he starts to rock the bed, his unbelievably thick length going in and out of you nonstop. Your mouth remains open, voice gone from all the screaming, only sobs and whimpers escaping you as you feel his thrusts in every nerve of your body. You know you're not far from coming.

"You are squeezing me so bad, baby. I should fuck you open with a dildo next time." He says and the sheer filthiness in his words makes your eyes roll back into your head as your toes curl at the mental image.

Before you can warn him, you are coming.

"Fuck, fuck!" You hear him hiss through the ringing in your ears as your whole body shakes in the impact of your orgasm. It's a miracle you haven't blacked out yet.

"Shit, holy shit." He groans, his moan drawing out as he feels your walls clenching around him repeatedly. "I'm coming too, fuck." He grunts, his pace faltering and through the mind-blowing haze of your orgasm, you manage to see his face, godlike and lost in the throes of pleasure; something that will be ingrained in your mind for years to come.

As you twitch and shake beneath him, you feel him release inside you, making you moan out loud at the warm feeling. His large body shudders on top of you, your hands holding onto his back tightly as he fills you up. Still not done with you, Joshua's hand moves into your clit and he wastes no time rubbing the swollen bud making you shriek so loud you think your voice will break.

"Joshua! Please! I can't— "

"One last time, sweets. One last time," he whispers and as if your body is on autopilot, a slave to his command, another wave of pleasure rushes through you that makes black spots appear in your vision. You feel hazy and achy all over but oh so sated and drowsy, feeling like you are floating on a bunch of clouds.

The next moments are blurry, you can barely sense some shifting around you, and the feel of a soft warm hand on your body as you are pulled into a deep, dark slumber.

-

"So...you are saying that he's not only ungodly handsome, unbelievably polite but also a freak in bed?" Kira whisper yells, clutching your shoulders and violently shaking you as she squeals. You cringe and look around the fairly empty grocery shop aisles and pray that no one heard her. "Keep it down, will you?" You grit your teeth, scowling at her but she doesn't listen. She keeps on giggling to herself while giving you a dirty look, making you regret spilling the beans to her.

You don't know why you did that. It has been a day since that magical night with Joshua and though your whipped ass now hurts significantly less, you couldn't forget about the act, the filthiness of it, the pleasure you got from it, the way you crave it again. 

Confused and horny, you decided to spit it all out as soon as you two met today.

"Stop looking at me like that," you hiss, trying to ignore the dirty stare she's giving you and busying yourself with searching for the items you need.

"I gotta tell Naomi." She grins as she quickly fetches her phone out of her purse. "No!" You hiss, reaching for her phone, mortified, regretting waking up this morning but she dodges your hands and skips away as she quickly starts typing. There's a little struggle between the two of you but when you get your hands on the device the damage is already done.

Kira: ______ GOT HER ASS SPANKED BY HER DADDY!!!! SHE LOVED IT!!!

Naomi: AAAAAAA! WTFFFFF!!! I WANT DETAILS. HANG OUT AT MY PLACE NOW!

Groaning, you hand her the device back. "I didn't say I loved it."

"Oh but I could see it in your face!" She keeps grinning like a stupid idiot. "You had this longing, fond tone in your voice. You're literally glowing. You look like you're in love!"

Her words bring your entire world to a halt. The hand that was reaching for the milk carton stills midway as you become solid like a statue and let your friend's words wash over you.

No, no it can't be true.

"Holy shit, _____ I didn't— " Kira's voice is breathy. "You— you really are..."

"No!" You snap, head whipping towards her. "No! Of course not!" The words feel impotent and pathetic even to your ears but you stay adamant. "No, I'm not. It's not like that."

Kira stays silent, giving you a sad, almost pitiful look and you half expect her to start talking but she doesn't and for once, you are glad she shuts up.

The thought that you may have fallen in love with Joshua scares you to your bones. You cannot bring yourself to even think of it, much less acknowledge it. You just can't.

If life has taught you one thing, it is that love is a fickle thing and for some people, like yourself, it does more damage than good. 

-

That weekend Joshua sends his car to drop you off at his place to get ready as he announces that he's taking you out for the evening.

You are a little surprised when you first receive his text and you're even more shocked when you go to his penthouse and find out a dress has already been picked for you, with shoes and all other accessories.

"Wow..." You're a little dazed with all the arrangement and wondering what is the occasion. Joshua gives you a sheepish smile when he sees your dazzled look. 

"Where are we going?" You ask.

"You'll see. I'll leave you to get ready." He answers, dropping a quick kiss on your cheek and heading out the door. You gaze at the beautiful red garment with slight hesitation. Joshua has been weird the last few days; his texts seemed a little off and now that you've seen him in person, he looks a little jittery and nervous and he didn't answer your question. It makes you wonder if everything is okay.

Maybe it's a problem at the company? But that doesn't really explain his behavior. If it was regarding his business, he would have been serious and collected, not like this.

Despite the uneasy feeling in your gut, you start getting ready. A while later, when you are done with your makeup and putting on your earrings, there's a knock at the door, before Joshua steps into the room.

Oh wow.

He's dressed simple yet expensive; in an off-white suit over a loose white tee, a Dior chain dangling around his neck. His hair is half brushed back and a half left to cover his forehead and there is this ethereal glow on his face that makes your heart skip a few beats.

You've to bitterly remind yourself not to fall for him. Even more, that is.

"Hey." He gives you a soft smile and you almost melt into a puddle on the floor.

"Hi," your voice is breathy.

"You look... absolutely gorgeous." He takes determined steps towards you, eyes going over your form before coming to stop at your face. "So fucking beautiful." He whispers, his thumb reaching out to brush against your cheek and your heart quite literally leaps out of your chest. The subtle scent of his cologne doesn't help either. He smells fresh and inviting and all the good things in the world. You are scared for a second that you might pass out.

"Thanks." You whisper, shyly averting your eyes from him and trying to get your racing heart under control.

With one hand Joshua tilts your face up and before you can blink, he kisses you, gently pressing his lips against yours. Your heart beats so loudly you're scared he can hear it and the urge to just give up all your barriers and break down in front of him and tell him everything in your heart is too much for you to bear.

So before you do that, you take a small step back that puts distance between your lips. Joshua looks at you, confused as his brows knit together.

"I...I'm sorry if I made— " He starts.

"No! I just...my lipstick is gonna get messy," you're quick to interject him, voice jittery. He gazes at you for a brief second before laughing softly, "Oh yeah, right. Sorry. Well then, come out when you're finished. The car's waiting."

He gives you his infamous sweet smile before turning on his heel and walking out of the room. You don't realize you were holding a breath until he's gone and you feel air rush back into your lungs as you collapse onto the stool in front of the mirror.

After you've finished dressing up, Joshua guided you to the car, his arm casually slinging to yours. A quiet, somewhat tense car ride later, you find yourself in front of what can be the most beautiful place you've ever seen. It's a grandiloquent fine dining restaurant and just by looking at the beautiful, antique European architecture of the building, the gilded marbled pillars and crystal chandeliers, your breath is stolen away.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Joshua asks, a smirk on his face.

You can only nod, as you gape at the marvelous place in wonder and let Joshua lead you through. You look completely out of place; while everyone else looks calm and habituated, talking and eating, you keep turning your head in various directions, eyes wide open and small gasps leaving you every now and then.

But you're yet to be surprised as a finely dressed man leads you both to a pair of double doors which open to reveal the huge balcony, in the middle of which sits a candle-lit table with two chairs.

Suddenly, all your breath wheezes out of your lungs and you turn into stone. This feels too intimate. Way too intimate for a sugar daddy and his sugar baby. Your throat dries up.

"Let's sit," Joshua ushers you towards the table as he helps you sit down. You've turned stoic, your heart pounding against your ribcage as you start getting an idea of where this is going.

While a part of you really, really likes it, the larger part, the part of you that always puts up walls to protect yourself goes into fight mode.

You can't trust yourself enough for this. You can't trust the universe enough for this. This all feels like a cruel game, a game in which you are bound to lose.

"Do you like it?" Joshua asks softly.

"Yeah. It's beautiful." Your tone is rather poignant. "I've to say this was not what I was expecting."

Joshua frowns. "What were you expecting?"

"I don't know. Maybe just another business event or something." You shrug, your hand motioning around vaguely. Joshua is silent for a bit, watching you with careful eyes.

"Why does it feel like you don't like this?"

His voice is just a breath above a whisper and you almost think you weren't meant to hear it. The hurt is clear in his voice and it absolutely wrecks you, making you want to scream out loud how much you love it all. How much you love this.

How much you love him.

You feel nauseous. The fears and traumas buried deep within you surface all at once and you have this urge to run away from everything forever.

"I—" whatever you wanted to say dies in your throat as you meet Joshua's expectant, slightly pained eyes. Your lips press into a thin line as you remain silent. A waiter arrives with a bottle of wine, breaking the moment between the two of you. He asks if you are ready to order and you shake your head, pretending to busy yourself with the menu and Joshua dismisses him.

Your eyes scan over the words but your brain processes none of it, too busy overthinking this situation. You are tired, burdened and oh how much you want to cave in, finally give up, retract your weapons and let him do whatever he wants to with you but you're scared to death.

A courageous person would do that. They would fight for the person they love, struggle to acquire anything good life threw their way. But you are not that person.

All your life you've been hiding, running and burying things that scared you. That's the only way you know how to survive. So you make your mind up.

"Joshua," you utter his name, closing the menu and sitting up straighter to meet his eyes. "I can't do this."

The man is in the middle of pouring you wine when he stills, his eyes fleeting over to you, confused at first, then worried. He sets down the wine bottle and murmurs, "What do you mean?"

"I can't do this. I- can't...This is too much," you breathe, hating how your emotions choke you up. Joshua looks like a puppy that has been kicked. His eyes search for yours anxiously. "You don't like this place?" The softness in his voice tugs at your heartstrings and you feel yourself getting more annoyed.

"No!" You snap. "It's not about the place. It's about this. What we're doing. I... can't. I can't do this, please..." You're fighting to keep your tears at bay. The pain and helplessness in Joshua's eyes are unmistakable. "If you want we can just go home..." He's still clinging onto that stupid hope, ignoring the real meaning behind your words even though he knows it well.

God, why did it have to be this man who fell for you? And why do keep feeling the same for him?

You can't see him in any more distress or you're going to end up running into his arms, soothing away all his pain. So you inhale deeply and stand up. "Joshua. I can't give you more. I'm sorry but this is too much for me. I know what you are expecting. And I can't give you that. I'm sorry. This relationship has no place for love."

He stands up with you too and watches you with wide, panicked eyes. "Let's talk about it, _____. You don't have to give me anything you don't want to." His voice is feather-light and it once again almost breaks your resolve.

"No," you shake your head. "I can't stay with you. This...you— you overwhelm me. This...what we're doing right now, I can't do this. This is too much for me." You swallow and blink away the tears that are on the verge of falling.

Joshua watches you in silence for a while and as you reach for your purse, you hear him whisper. "I'm sorry, ______. Please."

And the dam breaks.

"No!" You are yelling now. "Don't apologize! Please! This is not your fault! It's mine. I can't do this Joshua. I can't give you what you want. I am not the person you need me to be. I— I can't...I'm sorry, Joshua."

"But you already are. You are what I need."

All the air leaves your lungs. The feelings you've been experiencing so far increase tenfold. He speaks the words that you never, ever thought someone would say to you in this lifetime and now you're at your wit's end. His admission makes this all so much real.

This has to end.

"No, I'm not! Please leave me alone!" You yell, hiccuping midway as you scramble to sling your bag over your shoulder and without even sparing a glance at him, you run out of the terrace.

Even though Joshua calls for you from behind you tune his voice out and keep taking determined steps until you're out and far away from the restaurant.

It's better this way when you can still walk away from him. When you are not madly, deeply in love with him. Who are you kidding? That man made his way into your heart the very first time you saw him.

It's ripping you apart, leaving him, but it's not as painful as when he eventually abandons you. They all leave. There is no happy ending. Not for you. Not in this life.

You're doing this for yourself. You're doing this for yourself. You keep chanting in your head as you walk out of the restaurant, feet briskly moving against the pavement as you step further away from that lavish place.

Fetching your phone out as means of distraction, you find messages from Naomi and Kira, wishing you well on your date and whatnot. You scoff, shaking your head humourlessly as you try not to break into tears. Instead, you type out a message in the group chat.

Can I come over? Let's meet at Kira's place.

You shut your phone off as soon as they start sending concerned messages. You can't talk right now. You need to gather your shit together and just breathe for a few moments.

You've probably done the stupidest thing on this planet and broke an innocent man's heart so you need to have a few moments to yourself. You walk aimlessly around the city, the cold air making you shiver a little but you welcome it as it is a good distraction.

When you arrive at a random park, you find yourself a bench and sit down to watch the dark sky and the soft twinkle of the stars. And it seems like there's no escape for you as you are suddenly overwhelmed with a certain memory regarding Joshua.

It was at beginning of your relationship when you had just started to stay over at his place during the weekends. One night after dinner, he requested you to sit with him on his balcony as he offered you a glass of wine.

High above the ground, closer to the sky, you sat with him in utter silence except for a soft melody playing in the background from a speaker. None of you said a word but the moment was nowhere near awkward but purely magical. You had spent hours simply stargazing which was odd to do in the bustling city. For some reason, on that magical night, the sky was filled with more stars than you had ever seen in your life. 

Joshua kept refilling your glasses and exchanged soft, coquettish smiles, sometimes sweet touches with you that sent your heart in a frenzy. It was a night of silence, peace and magic and now that the moment is a far memory, you realize something.

That was probably the time you really fell in love with Joshua.

The realization brings tears to your eyes as you watch the sky now, alone and broken-hearted and like a cruel game of fate, the sky is full of stars today, too.

Whatever was left of your heart breaks even more as you try to wipe the tears and keep that at bay.

This moment right now is painful and absolutely heart wrenching but this is also a moment of clarity for you, you realize. You're a coward for running from the only good thing in your life but somehow, now you're strong enough to cut off a part of you, the cancerous part that you've been dragging for far too long.

So you quickly call the person from your caller list and wait for them to pick up.

"Finally changed your mind?" Is the first thing your sister says.

You clench your fists and bite your tongue to stop yourself from lashing out. "I'm calling to let you know that I won't receive your call ever again. I don't want anything to do with you. Or mom. I'm done."

"What?" She shrieks. "Listen, who do you think you are— "

"Aren't you tired too?" You whisper, finally breaking. "How long will this go on? It's been like this since dad died. We're a family. We're supposed to protect each other, love each other. But we're killing each other here and I'm tired. Let's just stop, Melissa."

There's silence on the other end of the line.

You continue. "I let mom go when she left us and refused to be helped. She's a lost cause and we know it. You can't keep sending her money. Well, if you want to, then do but I won't. I'm tired, Melissa."

"So you are dumping her on me?" She accuses.

"No, I'm not." You sigh, rubbing your forehead. "I'm telling you what I'm going to do. I'm telling you that you can do whatever you want to. Send her money, keep in touch with her or don't, I don't care. I won't accept your calls from now on and I hope you won't call too, Melissa."

"Fuck you, _____."

A lone teardrop pours down your cheek. "You were not the best sister but I understand you a little now. You were young and you had your own life. Still, you didn't kick me out when mom left. Thank you for that. And I'm sorry. If we meet again, let it be under better circumstances."

"Listen here, you fuck—"

"Goodbye, Melissa."

As you stare at the dark screen of your mobile, you feel like a huge burden has been lifted from your shoulders. You feel lighter and it feels easier to breathe. So you do.

You just breathe.

You inhale a lungful of air, despite it being chilly and try to put everything past you. Getting up from the bench you walk back towards the main road where you hail a cab to take you to Kira's place.

-

It has never been this quiet with the three of you. Whenever you all gathered it would be pure chaos but the scenery today is something you never expected to face.

Kira and Naomi sit on both of your sides, their face solemn as they stare at the wine glasses in their hands, much like what you are doing.

You came here and told them everything, crying your eyes out as you relieved the entire evening once again. They listened and even they got teary eyed which prolonged another crying session.

Now you sit on the sofa, drinking wine to knock yourself out but somehow that seems like a burden too. Now that you have no more tears left to cry there's a chilling hollow settling into your bones and you feel like a shell, an empty person, completely vacant inside.

"Why do I feel like I'm the one who broke up a 10 year old relationship or something?" Kira whispers, staring ahead blankly.

There's a pregnant pause in the air.

Her words sit heavy on your heart.

Naomi, who has been totally silent until now, shares her two cents. "______...what if...what if you read way too much into this? What if he just took you out on a simple dinner? What if he doesn't, you know...want you like that?"

A dry chuckle escapes your lips. "Naomi," you sigh. "You should have seen the look in his eyes. He— he looked at me with so much hope, like I'm his entire world or something." You shake your head, trying to rid the image of his sparkling eyes from your brain. They will haunt you even on your deathbed.

You set the glass down with a rather loud clank. "I mean— I knew something was up...he was being so weird the past few days. But I— I just couldn't imagine that he'd actually do something like this..." You rub your temples.

"What the fuck is wrong with that man?" Now you're yelling like a madwoman. "That guy could have anyone he wants but he chooses me! A good-for-nothing, weird and bitchy and broke college student! That's suspicious, right? He really can't really love me, can he?"

Your friends give you judgemental, you've completely lost your mind looks. "First of all," Kira starts in her no-nonsense tone, which is rare. "You are not good for nothing, weird or bitchy. Broke? Yes. But who the fuck cares? We're all broke. If anything, _____, you're a person full of dreams and ambitions and love. We have received so much love from you, even though you didn't get that from your family. I know you don't let many get close to you but the few of us who have been blessed with your presence know and feel and see what a truly great person you are."

Your friend's words close up your throat and suddenly, you feel like you've swallowed a sock. You hate this. You hate when they praise you like this and hate how much you want to believe them, how much you crave these words.

"Seriously," Naomi says. "You've never denied any of our requests. You've been there for us, for me, always. Even when I couldn't finish my history report, you came to my place in the middle of the night just to be my moral support. You give and give and give, ______ even though you have never received enough, you give, unknowingly."

"Guys..." Fresh tears start accumulating in your eyes. "You're my friends, I'm supposed to do all that." You mumble.

"No, you're not. You could've been a bitch of a friend and used us to get what you needed. And you literally forgave your sister for all her bullshit. " Kira rolls her eyes. "Give yourself a little credit, ______. You had a tough life but you've still managed to become this amazing person and you've been giving selflessly for us."

"No wonder Joshua would fall for you." Naomi playfully pokes your temple. "You're incredibly dense but you're a lovely person and an even lovelier company. You definitely made Joshua feel something that he didn't feel before to make him fall for you."

A lone tear trails down your cheek as you fiddle with your fingers.

Kira downs her glass in one go and shuffles next to you. "Now that we are being honest and spilling whatever the fuck is in our hearts, lemme say something else. You're a pussy. You're a pussy for leaving that man, a simp of a man like that."

You narrow your eyes at your friend's words and from beside you, Naomi snorts. "Yeah, I agree with that."

You turn to glare at her. So they are ganging up on you now?

"Seriously. Joshua is like a guy straight out of a romance novel or some shit. And I'm not talking about his billionaire extravaganza or whatever. I'm talking about his personality. Yes, I've never met him but he sounds so pure and gentle— "

"Except when he's in bed, of course," Kira interrupts with a giggle which tells you she's pretty drunk.

Before Naomi can continue her monologue, you stand up and hold your hands up in surrender. "Okay! Okay! I know what a great guy he is, alright? You don't have to kiss his ass like this. Besides, whose team are you on?"

"Team Joshua, sorry," Kira replies in an instant, leaning back into the sofa and giving you a cocky smile.

"Me too." Naomi gives you a sheepish smile.

"You two are traitors, you know?" You hiss at them.

"We're the speakers of the harsh truths. And I will say one more thing." Kira holds her hand up as if asking permission. "You should try."

"Try what?"

"To win him back."

You stare at her, incredulous, utterly baffled and if she had told you to run over an old lady or something, you'd be less surprised.

"You're drunk, Kira." You sigh.

"She's completely right." Naomi is quick to defend. "Who knows, _____? Maybe you still have a chance. Maybe this decision will change your life forever. Yes, there's nothing set in stone but I think you've tortured yourself enough. And this one time, just this once, you should chase after something. I mean, it is fucking clear you two love each other. Why are you putting the two of you through so much pain?"

You swallow. It seems like there's no ground beneath you, you're free falling and falling into a deep dark abyss where her words echo around and feel like a cold bucket of water on your skin.

"I don't know. I'm scared." Your cracks as you realize how much you want to see Joshua, just once more. You want to tell him how sorry you are and how much you love him, how he has become your hope and your entire world in such a short time.

You really are a pussy.

"Oh, babe." Kira quickly comes to wrap her arms around you, followed by Naomi. "It's okay. It's perfectly normal. But it shouldn't stop you."

"Let me call you a cab," Naomi is already moving away and rushing for the door.

"Wait- are you crazy? I didn't even— " you're hushed as Kira puts a finger on your lips. "Shut up. Get in the car and go to him. Talk to him. If he doesn't give you another chance, my name isn't Kira and I vow to pay for your rent for the rest of our lives."

You can't help but snort. "Be prepared."

She rolls her eyes. "But. If he does take you back, which he will, you shall attend my wedding wearing a tiger costume."

Before you can protest, Naomi rushes back in. "Hey! The cab's here."

"Go get him, tiger!"

As you are heading for the car, you hear Hoshi, Kira's boyfriend, emerge from his room in which he had been cooped up until now, giving the three of you privacy. "Hey, babe! Who are you calling tiger other than me?"

"Oh shut up and take me to bed, tiger."

You shake your head, a smile on your lips as you feel a little hope bloom in your chest. 

Maybe you still have a chance.

-

This is stupid. So unbelievable stupid and embarrassing. No one in their right mind would do this.

As you stand in front of Joshua's front door tipsy, tired and slightly shivering from the cold, you realize how badly this could go.

But since you've come this far, you might as well just go with it because the cab fare was definitely not cheap.

Your finger which has been hovering over the calling bell button with a gap of millimeters finally presses it and you go completely rigid, waiting for Joshua to either open the door or at least receive your call on the intercom.

Looks like he has decided you don't deserve to put your foot in his place no more because there's a beep alerting you that he has received the call and is currently watching you through the screen.

You realize you've never been this nervous in your life as you stare at the intercom camera, wide eyed with an embarrassed, awkward smile plastered on your face.

Shit. Get yourself together before he decides to end the call.

"H-hi," your voice is so pathetic to your own ears that you want to punch the wall and howl. "It's me...as you can see..."

Your subconscious facepalms and starts to bury herself into an imaginary ground. You wish you could do the same.

"I'm sorry, I— " You exhale a deep breath. You don't even know what you are trying to say. Rubbing your hands on your arms to provide some warmth, you take several deep breaths.

You can do this. You've got this one chance. You can't fuck this up.

This time, determined, you focus your eyes back on the camera. "As you can see, I'm really bad at this and talking to a camera feels even weird. So I'm just gonna sit down here and talk. Please just listen to me, that's all I ask of you."

You make yourself comfortable on the ground as you lean against the wall just by the door to his penthouse. As soon as your ass hits the floor, you shiver due to its coldness.

You'll probably die of pneumonia but it'll be so worth it.

Inhaling a lungful of air, you start. "I'm s-sorry. I'm sorry about a lot of things, Joshua, especially about tonight. I did the most horrible, despicable, atrocious thing ever and I probably broke your heart but you have to know I didn't mean it and I didn't want to do it."

You let out a breath, blinking repeatedly to stop the tears from falling.

"I'm so, so stupid, Joshua. And I'm such a coward. You're the best thing that has happened to me in this hell of a life and I've always pushed you away. But I never wanted to do it. I never wanted to let you go. I wanted to be close to you. I longed for you more and more every day and that sacred me. I'm s-so s-scared, Joshua." Somewhere along the line, your voice cracks and a quiet sob ripples out of your throat. Clearing your voice, you start again.

"You know, I've always been left behind. The people that were supposed to love me, didn't and that made me realize that if they didn't love me, how could someone else do that? I know this sounds like bullshit but I've always been scared of this. I hated the thought of being abandoned or seen as a burden or a charity. And I kept making things worse in my head even though the reality was far from it."

"The time I spent with you was magical, Joshua. Every moment of it. Even though I didn't deserve any of it, you gave me so much and made me feel so appreciated. I can't thank you enough for that. And I can't apologize enough for what I've done to you today. But still, I'm here and I'll say I'm sorry. I'll say it a million times not to make you forgive me but to show you that I mean it." You breathe in deeply.

There has been utter silence and you would think he left but there has been no sound from the device to let you know he hung up.

Once again, gathering all your courage, you speak. "I know you'll probably never want to see my face again but just know that..." You stop as you have to speak the three words that have been on the tip of your tongue for ages now. The words that you've always wanted to tell him yet you didn't. Well, now's your chance.

"I love you, Joshua. I love you so fucking much I only wish I could explain. I love you more than anything in the entire world. And I'm sorry for not see saying this earlier, when the moment was right, when you were in front of me. But I need you to know, Joshua. I love you."

It takes you a while to realize that you're crying but you're surprised to understand that the tears are not from any pain but from the huge relief you feel, how your heart feels lighter and how free and liberated you feel.

So you let the tears fall, crying your heart out because you are leaving your old self here, right at this moment. No matter what happens from now on, however Joshua treats you, you will remember this feeling and you will hold it dearest in your heart.

As you are in the middle of your crying session, you hear something akin to a door opening, somewhere far off so you don't open your eyes to check. But then you hear footsteps and some movement beside and as you open your eyes and look up, you see him.

Joshua's blank stare is the first thing that greets you as he keeps eyeing you with a straight face, no emotion whatsoever. Quickly you wipe away your tears in an attempt to look less pathetic— not that it helps and prepare yourself to be kicked to the curb.

Instead, he surprises you by holding out his hand. With wide eyes and like a deer stuck in headlights, you gape at him and then his hand, before you realize he's offering it to help you stand up. With a shaky hand, you reach for it and Joshua pulls you up from the cold ground and right into his warm chest.

The moment is something straight out of a movie as the force of his tug sends you crashing into his strong chest. For a moment, you hesitate but when you see he makes no attempt to push you away, you bury your face into his soft sweater. His arms wrap around your back, rubbing it up and down as he comments on how cold you are.

However, you can't bring yourself to care for anything else. This moment right here is your heaven and even though the thought that this may be the last time you get to feel his body next to you splits your heart open, you don't let it distract you. Instead, you inhale deeply into his chest and let his clean scent wash over you, ingraining it into the deepest part of your brain as you let your body go lax for a moment.

For the first time since being with him, you drop all your guards and simply let your bodies mold into one, uncaring of everything else and just feeling him, baring yourself to him. The only thing you hate is that it took you this long.

As you are having your moment, Joshua suddenly grabs below your ass and then as if you are a child, carries you inside his house, cradling your body next to his despite your protests.

"You need to warm up." He states, voice devoid of emotion as he drops you onto the living room sofa and heads towards the bedroom. From there, he returns with a fluffy white blanket and drapes it around your shoulders.

You can only look at him in wonder as he does so. When you expect him to sit down next to you, or maybe say something, he disappears into the kitchen, leaving your dumbfounded state alone.

What is he doing? Why is he ignoring everything you had spilled? Did he not hear it? Does he not care anymore? Or is this a nice way of kicking you out of his life forever?

Anxiously you chew on your lip, wrapping the blanket around you tighter. Joshua returns right then, holding a steaming mug in one hand which seems to be tea. His gesture tugs at your heartstrings and you have this urge to start crying once again.

"Drink." It's a command as he holds the mug in front of you. You oblige, reaching for the mug and taking a small, careful sip before cupping it with your arms to feel the warmth. Now that you are inside you realize just how cold you had been.

Joshua sits next to you and almost subconsciously, you scoot away a little, afraid to come in contact with him for some reason. If he notices, he says nothing but stares at you with an unreadable expression, one that you've never seen on him and it makes you worry.

What is he thinking?

Swallowing, you take another sip of the tea and then another hoping to hear something from him. But he stays silent and you realize your worst fear has come true. He's done with you. He is going to kick you out as soon as you are done drinking this tea.

So you try to save yourself from further embarrassment. Setting the mug on the coffee table, you shrug the blanket off your shoulders and start getting up. "Well then...I'll get go— "

You're immediately pulled back into the sofa by a strong arm. Joshua's eyes blaze with an emotion you've never seen before; fiery, accusatory, annoyed as he hisses. "What is wrong with you!"

His reaction confuses you. What does he mean?

"What?" You blink, perplexed. "I— I just thought that I should go home— "

"Will you stop overthinking for once? Did I ask you to leave?" This time you hear the hurt in his tone more than the anger and you immediately sew your lips shut. Joshua rakes a frustrated hand through his hair and exhales loudly. "God, _____...." He shakes his head, probably at a loss for words.

"I was gonna leave because you were not saying anything and I thought you didn't want me to stick around..." You mumble.

"God. I was letting you warm up and feel comfortable before I addressed the elephant in the room." He glares at you.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, a part of you feels giddy. You've never seen Joshua angry before so this is a sight. And something tells you, you shouldn't poke him right now and just be quiet. You whisper. "Sorry."

Joshua sighs, his shoulders visibly slugging and he looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. You have this urge to reach out to him and smooth out the lines of worry on his face.

"You're so... stubborn, ______." He murmurs, more to himself than you. "God...the least you could have done was listen to me instead of ditching me like that."

You wince at the memory. That, undoubtedly, was the stupidest decision you ever made. You're about to, once again, apologize but Joshua starts talking.

"_______." His eyes lock with yours. "You're such an amazing person and it is my fault for not making you realize it and letting you think so little of yourself."

You're opening your mouth to interrupt but he holds up his finger and begrudgingly, you stop. How can he say that?

"But now that you're here, I'll say something I've always wanted to say. You're the best thing that could have happened to me and I wish I could show you how much I mean it. I sometimes honestly have a hard time grasping the fact that you are real and you are in my life, ______. I've found myself attracted to you from the first day we met at the restaurant. You're different, you're intriguing. You've shielded your heart from the world yet you have this lively innocence surrounding you and it drew me in. Whenever I looked at you— even thought of you, I felt at peace and I felt better. I didn't realize I was lonely until you came along, ______. You make the dullest things interesting. You make my world so fucking colorful. You bring life to me and the thought of you leaving kills me."

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

You're crying. It's impossible to not cry after hearing those words, paired with the look in his eyes, the raw emotions shining in them. You have to stifle your sobs to let him speak and not end up wailing once again.

Gosh, you never knew you have so many tears.

One of Joshua's hands reaches out to wipe a trail of tear from your cheek. "I want you and everything that comes with you. Every tear, every pain, every scar, every little thing you have, I want it. I need it. I need you just as you are, ______. And I would do anything to protect you. I really hope you will start believing that."

You can't help it anymore. You're flinging yourself into his arms, ugly crying, fat tears rolling down your face as you try to literally bury yourself in his chest. "Oh, Joshua."

"Shh. It's okay. Gosh, you're such a crybaby." The tenderness in his voice laced with emotions, his soft stroking on your hair— it all makes you turn into mush for this man and you swear to yourself as long as you have life in your body, you will never ever hurt this man again nor let anybody hurt him.

"I love you too, _____. You were silly to think I'd never want to see you again." He whispers into your hair. You're moving to look up at him but he holds you tightly, keeping you in his arms as he continues speaking. "My heart broke when you left, I'm not going to lie. But I was mad at myself. I couldn't make you comfortable enough to— "

"Joshua, no." Your tone is adamant as you push against his chest and scowl at him. "Please, please don't say that. What I did today evening was a horrible decision on my part. You had nothing to do with it. As always, I let my intrusive thoughts win but it won't be happening from now on." Your hands reach forward to cup his cheek. "I love you. I've always loved you and I always will."

"I love you too." He gives you the softest of smiles and fireworks go off in your heart. You want to scream, cry and yell at the top of your lungs but you only manage to grin from ear to ear. Joshua mirrors it before leaning towards you, eyes going over to your lips.

Your breath stutters.

Softly, oh so slowly, he attaches his lips to yours while cupping both of your cheeks. Your hands move to clutch his biceps as you completely melt against his mouth, the familiar feel and taste of him soothing away all the pain from the last couple of hours.

Wanting more, you shift and move on top of his thighs, kissing him deeply and urgently. He reciprocates and soon it's a battle of teeth and tongue. When you both pull apart for air, Joshua has this flushed glow on his face, his eyes shining with so much love and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. If there was a jetpack attached to your heart it would take off to space right now.

"I'm so lucky to have you." You say thoughtlessly. He laughs softly at that but you're completely serious. "I can't believe you forgave me after what I did. I was such an asshole."

"No, you weren't." He frowns before tapping your temple. "You just said no more intrusive thoughts. So stop that."

Right.

You manage a sheepish smile as he once again engulfs you into his huge chest. You snuggle into him, getting comfortable and letting your mind simply drift. He holds you in silence, occasionally kissing your hair while he rubs your back softly. You feel yourself drifting off, the absolute comfort and safety of his arms making you sleepy. Not to mention you've had the most eventful evening of your life.

Just then, he speaks. "You're so cute. Falling asleep on me, sweets. But there's something you're forgetting."

"Hmm?"

"I think you deserve a punishment for what you did this evening."

The seductive growl in his voice suddenly removes all the sleep from your system and you're wide awake and anticipating. Your surprised, slightly excited gaze makes him smirk.

"I thought we're now past that daddy and baby relationship." You faux pout but he sees through your act. His eyes narrow. "So you don't want a punishment?"

"Hmm." You pretend to think. "Does it involve spanking?"

The cocky grin on his face is panty melting.

"And much more." It's a promise that lightens up your whole body.

"Lead the way, daddy." You whisper in his ear, making sure he feels your breath. Joshua groans, pushing you onto your back on the sofa. "Such a brat till the end." He smashes his lips against yours, stroking your tongue with his as he holds your hands above your head together. "Let's do something about that, hmm? What's your safeword, sweets?"

"Gentleman."

1 year later

It's the same place. The historic one where you ditched Joshua almost a year ago and ran like Cinderella.

It's surreal how quickly a year has passed. You've got your degree and started your job as a junior editor at a rising publishing company, all with Joshua by your side. Joshua has also become good friends with Kira and Naomi, showing up with you on hangouts every now and then. They're absolute fans of him, giving him undivided attention and spilling every embarrassing secret about you. 

Kira also got engaged to Hoshi last month and as a congratulatory gift, Joshua got them tickets to the Maldives. You wanted to reprimand him for such an expensive gift but Kira's childish giddiness made you let him off easy.

Overall, life has been good. You've worked on yourself and now you're more accepting of everything that has been given to you. You have learned to focus more on the positive and let go of the negatives.

After that eventful night, your sister did call you but you didn't pick up and then she sent you messages giving all types of threats. She also dropped by your apartment when you weren't there so that was fortunate.

Not long after, you changed your number and after many requests from Joshua, you moved in with him. Now you've grown so accustomed to living with him that you don't know how you survived before.

Being back here, in this beautiful restaurant is quite exciting for you as you plan on doing the things you missed out on last time, like drinking the wine and eating the fancy food. The last time you were here definitely didn't go well but you're adamant about enjoying this night and replacing the bad memories with the good.

Joshua, however, has been stressed since he got in the car. You were the one to mention revisiting this restaurant and though he didn't deny your request, he definitely looks like he has PTSD, you now understand.

"Hey. I'm not walking out on you again." You reach for his hand over the table. He looks dashing, his dark hair pushed back, dressed in a pristine white shirt and dark grey suit and you can't wait to get home and take it all off.

His smile is a little nervous. "Sure." He mocks and you laugh. "If it makes you feel any better, you can walk out on me tonight. Do give me a moment to take off my heels though because I'll be chasing you."

That earns you a gentle laugh from him and you immediately feel better. If you ever got your hands on a time machine, you'd visit yourself that night and smack that bitch until she came to her senses. That'd be quite a scene.

Soon the waiter arrives and takes your orders before leaving you two to yourself once again. You take pictures of the beautiful place and the equally gorgeous night sky, before asking Joshua to take some photos of you.

"Joshua?" You call for him, thrice. The man seems to be lost somewhere else as he burns holes into the table. "Huh?" He blinks as you snap your fingers.

You sigh. "Shua, what's wrong? Is this about last time? I swear— "

"No! No, damn it." He says, a little too forcefully, making you concerned. What's wrong with him? Should you be getting worried? Is he... breaking up with you?

"Joshua?" Your voice suddenly becomes shaky. "Did I do something wrong? I— "

"Fuck. I can't wait anymore. Let's get this over with." He suddenly hisses and stands up, coming to stand by your chair. With alarmed eyes, you watch him, his face extremely serious, eyes focused but also a little nervous.

What on earth is the matter?

The next second, he drops onto one knee and your heart flies out of your chest, quite literally. You gasp and cover your mouth with both hands as he produces a little black box from his pocket and holds it open, revealing a beautiful, glittering diamond ring.

You're too stunned to speak.

"______." He breathes, eyes focused on you, his voice just a little shaky. "I love you. I fell in love with you the first day I saw you and I fall in love with you more and more every day. You're the sun of my world, my light in the dark and there is no life for me without you. So please, will you do the honor of marrying me and loving me forever?"

By now, hot tears are rolling down your face, probably ruinning your makeup but you just can't stop. You hiccup, trying to give him an answer but you can't. So you just nod your head aggressively and hold out your hand.

He gives you a fond smile and you can see the tears in his eyes shine as he puts the ring on your finger.

A perfect fit. Just like him.

"You didn't exactly say yes, you know." He teases as he stands up. You roll your eyes, wiping away the tears and pulling him closer by the lapels and kissing him deeply.

"Yes, Joshua. It's always a yes."

A/N 2: More than any other fic, your reviews and thoughts will be especially appreciated for this one as I've had a hard time finishing it due to writer's block and in general lack of motivation. But after doing so, I'm really happy and satisfied with the outcome. These characters are really dear to my heart so it would mean the world to me if you all left a little message. As always, thank you.

Taglist: @coupsiekkuma @haomullet @haven-cove @woozarts @fairiewonu @qy61 @lilactangerine @wheeinz @melocular @soonchanshua @chvngbin @kp0p10v3r2 @mommymilkers6000 @silent-potato23-blog @luv4cheol @namjoonslefttiddie @joshualvr @yangjeongincertifiedsimp @vernongyu @jeongiegram @hnsw04 @tfmingyu @thisuseriscravingdeath (forgive me if I've forgotten to tag someone 🙏)

[yukidragon]

Sunny Day Jack - Songs to Listen to While Descending into Madness

Hey, remember when I found Ian's perfect theme song for Sunshine in Hell? Well, I found one that fits Joseph's descent into madness and embracing the personality of Jack. Maybe I should make a playlist specifically for Sunshine in Hell sometime...

Not only does it have this manic energy that switches to disturbing and somber, a lot of the lyrics really give me the vibe of the suffering Joseph went through as he tore away at his very identity to become someone and something else.

When did I become afraid of the dark? Are my eyeballs just yet to adjust to seeing the light? The room I'm in is still the same, the shadows have not rearranged it No, the only thing that's changed is how I see at night I fumble for the switch and strap on infrareds and wish For sunshine when the morning's somewhere else But I can't change what time it is or dilate my irises Only what I look at, and I'm looking at myself I am not the sunshine, I am not the moon at night Well, who else could I be when I can hardly see? I am not the sunshine, I am not the moon at night I'm no one if I'm nowhere in between When did I become afraid of the dark? Was it when I left the cave and swore I'd never go back? If we can't see each other, then there's no more use for hiding I've decided I'll abide it; why deny the color black? I'm not a flower, not a solar-powered calculator Damn my eyes for seeing what's not there I'll trade in vision for a practiced intuition 'Til my fears come to fruition, I'm not scared I am not the sunshine, I am not the moon at night Well, who else could I be when I can hardly see? I am not the sunshine, I am not the moon at night I'm no one if I'm nowhere in between The future must know where you've been The past predicts the state you're in The present did and will not last Is, isn't, was, have, hasn't, has All that I ask is, keep those empty frames If nobody's in them, then no one is to blame For your self-portraits, sign another name Well, who should I be then, if I'll never be the same? I will be my sunshine, I will be my moon at night Who else could I be, when I can't fucking see? I will be my sunshine, I will be my moon at night I'm nowhere now, here's no one now to be And if dreams can come true, what does that say about nightmares? I'll stay awake tonight

It really gives me vibes of the animatic Sauce made where Jack antagonizes Joseph, particularly that high energy of Jack strutting around, being cheerfully scary and threatening. It also reminds me this classic picture of a cheerful Jack and a traumatized dead(?) Joseph.

It even has a sketch updated version you can check out here!

Credit as always goes to the awesome Sauce for their awesome art, characters, and stories. They and the rest of the crew of SnaccPop Studios are a wealth of endless inspiration. Consider joining their patreon, won't you? Just remember - don't repost anything privately posted there!

There's so many lyrics that make me think of Jack's broken mind and the effects of hell had on him. I have to really break it down to show all the different feelings/images that it conjures up, since there is so much here virtually every line.

"When did I become afraid of the dark?" When you were trapped in hell, Joseph. His loneliness was bad while he was alive, but his death made it so, so, so much worse. He's terrified of being alone and forgotten. He can't stand the cold numbness only broken up by pain. It's a night he can never sleep through or wake up from.

"The room I'm in is still the same, the shadows have not rearranged it. No, the only thing that's changed is how I see at night." It didn't get better. Nothing changed in that hell. It just repeated his death and the delusions of his decaying mind. The only thing that changed was himself into someone else, someone who could better handle the madness.

"I fumble for the switch and strap on infrareds and wish, For sunshine when the morning's somewhere else." Joseph struggles desperately somehow, someway to find some sort of light, some hope in hell. Unfortunately, his sunshine Mary is somewhere else, reborn as Alice. All he can do is wish for a miracle.

His sunshine was always like a miracle to him. She found him twice. He prays she'll find him again.

"But I can't change what time it is or dilate my irises, Only what I look at, and I'm looking at myself." Joseph can't change his circumstances. He can't feel anything but cold and pain, no matter how much he struggles. He's helpless.

The only thing Joseph can do is relive his death and look inward into an ever growing abyss that stares back at him. That abyss, that hell is changing him because he can't do anything but stare inward.

Joseph only has himself in this hell, and the longer he stares at himself, the more he hates what he sees.

"I am not the sunshine, I am not the moon at night." Joseph isn't as good as his sunshine was, in his opinion. He's not even as good as a fraction of her, like the sunlight is reflected on the moon. He doesn't even have a glimmer of her light either.

"I'm no one if I'm nowhere in between." In a way, he is nowhere, trapped between life and death. Joseph/Jack was erased. He became no one.

"When did I become afraid of the dark? Was it when I left the cave and swore I'd never go back?" Jack swore never to go back into the tape, never to be Joseph ever again. He's terrified of being alone, and he refuses to ever be alone and forgotten ever again.

"I've decided I'll abide it; why deny the color black?" Joseph gives into his darker impulses, his madness, his yandere side. He'll do anything to be free of this hell, to have his sunshine back.

Even if that means staining his soul irreparably with sin by torturing and killing others to do it.

He'll be damned to hell either way. He knows that from experience.

"Damn my eyes for seeing what's not there." When someone is put through sensory deprivation, they hallucinate, make up alternate personas, and the like. Jack himself was confused at first when the tape was played, asking if MC/Alice really was real, that he wasn't just dreaming.

How many times did Jack imagine someone was really there to save him, only to be disappointed by a cruel reality that he was still trapped in hell?

"I'll trade in vision for a practiced intuition. 'Til my fears come to fruition, I'm not scared." These lines sum up the whole Jack persona. He'll bury himself in that cheerful façade in order to deny his own fears that he'll be trapped in hell forever. He'll lose himself in a dream of his own making since he can never sleep again.

The only way to avoid being scared of an eternity in hell is denial, denial, denial.

"Well, who else could I be when I can hardly see?" He's Jack. He can't see himself as Joseph anymore. His mind can't handle it. He's blinded himself to his real identity by burying memories of anything else.

"The future must know where you've been." This feels like the video tape. The few traces left of what happened in the incident of 1984.

"The past predicts the state you're in." All the mistakes Joseph made and the few things that made him happy with himself are the reasons why he became Jack.

"The present did and will not last." Time is cruel, constantly marching forward and erasing the past. Jack lost everything so many times. He lost his identity, his dreams, his sunshine, and his life. Everything was lost so easily... how can he not dread losing it all again?

"All that I ask is, keep those empty frames." If nothing else, Jack is desperate to be remembered. Even if the person in the picture isn't himself anymore, he's desperate for at least some trace of him is remembered, even if it's this caricature of the character he played.

"If nobody's in them, then no one is to blame." A reference to LambsWork Productions covering up the part they played in Jack's death or the scandal the 1984 incident created. They can't have their reputation ruined if no one remembers the SunnyTime Crew Show after all.

"For your self-portraits, sign another name." This makes me think of all the autographs Joseph had to sign as "Sunny Day Jack." The character had his face, his voice... but it was a different name. He couldn't break character, because the character was what people loved. It's another reason why he's Jack now instead of Joseph.

"Well, who should I be then, if I'll never be the same?" Joseph Cullman is missing. [Redacted] Haberdae is dead and erased. He can't go back to being either. Who should he be? What name or persona should he use that will give him peace?

"Who else could I be, when I can't fucking see?" What is left for him but to be Sunny Day Jack? He has nothing else but that persona in this hell.

"I'm nowhere now, here's no one now to be." This line sums up Jack's state in the tape. He's nowhere, and he doesn't know how to be himself anymore. He is nothing... so he'll be the character he played.

He doesn't know how to be Joseph anymore because he can no longer see the good qualities he had as Joseph. Everything good was attributed to Jack in his mind, even his sunshine's love.

"I will be my sunshine, I will be my moon at night." He will be Sunny Day Jack. He will be his own hope, his sunshine. Losing himself to this alternate persona was the only thing he had to cling to in that cold and lonely hell. He clung to it like a piece of driftwood until the splinters dug into his hands and made him bleed madness.

"And if dreams can come true, what does that say about nightmares?" Now this shift makes me think of after Jack is freed and the lingering trauma from being in the tape. It's fitting because it comes after a drastic shift in the song to something somber, slowly building into something almost... hopeful?

His dream of being saved came true... but the nightmare of that hell still haunts him.

What if he goes back?

Jack could, just as easily, be sent away if Alice doesn't want him there. He needs to make sure that never happens.

Can Jack really dare to cling to this hope that he's been given, that this actually is reality?

Was he really saved, or is this just another delusion?

So even though Jack finally can sleep, he's finally safe... his fears still haunt him. He can't truly rest until he's sure, absolutely sure, that he won't lose his sunshine ever again. It's the hope he's desperate to hold onto.

"I'll stay awake tonight." The hell of the tape robbed Jack of his ability to sleep, both in the past and in the present. His trauma and mental scars run deep.

No doubt there were many nights where Jack just laid in bed and watched Alice sleep. He focused on her warmth, her steady breathing. Her heartbeat, her soft skin, her smell...

Alice is real. This sunshine is real. Jack knows that. He knows that deep down in his soul, but...

What if?

Just one minute longer. One second more to reassure himself.

This beautiful person Jack holds close in his arms is his salvation. Alice chose to save him. She promised to never forget him. She promised him forever.

Jack feared that the tape would be his forever.

So even though he's tired, Jack just needs a little bit more, just that extra moment more to drink in Alice with all of his senses so that he can truly believe that she delivered him from damnation.

Joseph is dead. The good parts of him, the light and hope he found in himself as that redacted identity are gone from even his memory. Jack is the only one there now.

Alice is the only sunshine Jack can see now, and he'll do whatever it takes to make sure he never loses that light, his hope, his love ever again.

Of course, during these moments of insecurity, Alice would stir, just a little, and cling to Jack tighter. Sometimes she even murmurs his name softly. She can feel that he needs her love through their connected souls.

The thoughts and feelings flow both ways. Sometimes Alice can pick up what Jack is thinking too, especially when his soul cries out to be seen, heard, felt, and loved.

Even though Jack didn't say a word, Alice heard his thoughts, his deepest need, and answered in a sleepy mumble, "Don't worry... I've got you. 'm not going anywhere..."

The soft words, slurred by a haze of sleep, sent a jolt through Jack, and all the love and gratitude he felt for her washed over him. Even in her dreams she would reach out to him, reassure him that she won't let him go. Even when in moments when his fear made their connection feel so tenuous, so fragile, all it took was a soft squeeze of her delicate hand always holding so gently onto his to quiet his fears.

Alice won't remember what she said in the morning, or anything else she mutters in a half-asleep haze, but she'll always remember Jack. She'll remember this man, no matter what name he uses, no matter what the fractured picture of his sanity looks like now. Their love is forever.

Even if Jack can't find the light in the man he used to be, even if the light of the good parts of Joseph are dead, buried, and forgotten in his mind... Jack can always believe in Alice, his sunshine. As long as he has her, he doesn't have to fear the dark or that he'll be banished back to hell.

Jack has the light of hope. It's in his sunshine Alice, and in the persona he wears. Most of all, it's in their love that lived on even after death.

Fortunately, over time, Alice will help him see that the light was always there even when he went any other name. With her help, he'll be able to finally find true peace and rest his weary soul in the gentle sunshine of their love. He'll finally be able to heal and truly shine in spite of the darkness.

Yeah, I know the song ends on a more somber note, but I'm all about happy endings and fluffy vanilla goodness. I couldn't help but add on a bit of a sweet reprise of sorts, even if not in so many lyrics. Sunshine in Hell is all about these wounded soulmates helping each other heal after all.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

[2soulscollide]

Underrated tips to spice up your writing journey

Hello hello, it's me, Rach!

Today I'm here with a fresh post where, as you can guess from the title, I'll share some (underrated, I think) tips to help you go through your writing journey with ease.

So, let's get started!

People watching: Not in a creepy way :') but we, as authors who write about people and want to create realistic characters, should always be observing everyone around us: perceive how people laugh, go through their daily lives, talk, move, etc. Every little detail is crucial!

Create playlists for everything: I'm quite sus here because I'm obsessed with the art of playlist making. I reallyyyy love to pick songs that make me feel things, but hear me out!!! This will be so helpful to set the mood. Create playlists for your characters (that show their personality, their mood, etc), for your books, and for YOURSELF as a writer, too. Playlists are never too many, trust me.

Don't feel the need to write scene after scene: When I started writing, I thought I needed to write the events as they happen in the story, but later found out it wasn't true! I find it so fun to write whatever comes to my mind and then put everything together. You might even come up with an unexpected scene that you wouldn't think of if you were writing scene after scene!!

You can write everywhere: Well, you don't have to always wait until you get home to continue working on your masterpiece! If you keep all your writing in a synced software, you can take off your phone anytime and write a few paragraphs while you wait for your coffee, for example!

The empty page isn't a monster: You're starting a book... Okay, I've been there... It can be quite scary!!! You stare at the empty page and you're afraid to start with the wrong word, phrase even. But listen, you always have the chance to edit and re-write it later :) the most important step is to get started.

Let your characters take charge: Don't control your babies!! Let them lead the story to places you could never imagine. Let them have their own life, needs, and choices. This sounds crazy because they're the fruit of your imagination, right? But hey, once you see them as real people, you'll start having so much fun, and the events in your book will flow so much easier and they will even feel more realistic.

I really hope this post was somewhat useful! Feel free to reblog or share with someone who might love it as well <3

Also, don't forget to check my gumroad shop, where you can find plenty of FREEBIES (from notion templates for writers to workbooks and sheets).

-> Check out my freebies

Happy writing! <3

[wifegideonnav]

I'm new to Tumblr. How do Tumblr users usually engage with each other?

well first of all welcome haha. the main ways to engage with people are:

liking and reblogging. platforms like instagram and tiktok run on likes and an algorithm, but on tumblr, people almost exclusively use their dashboard and turn off suggested content, so they’re only seeing what people actually reblog onto their dash. that’s why people on this site are so adamant about reblogs, because likes basically do nothing. i saw someone say once that anything you would like on a different social media, you should reblog on here, and i totally agree. and don’t worry about how old a post is, or about reblogging something you’ve previously reblogged. there are posts from 2014 that i regularly see on my dash a decade later, so literally don’t feel awkward, it’s 100% normal to engage with old posts.

tags. there are three main ways tags are used: labeling original content so people find it in searches, internal organization systems when reblogging or posting (for instance, many people have a tag for their original posts, and will tag reblogs by fandom or character or whatever - important note that reblogs do not show up in search results), and to make sotto voce comments on a post. it’s normal for people to make jokes, add their own commentary, ramble about something semi relevant, or say something to op in the tags on posts they reblog.

reblog additions. every time you reblog, you have the chance to add something to the post, which unlike tags will be retained when someone reblogs from you. a good rule of thumb is to comment instead of tagging when it’s something you actually want other people to engage with, as opposed to tags where you’re just kind of expressing yourself lol. don’t be surprised however if you see people’s tags getting screenshotted and added to a reblog. if this happens because the screenshotter likes what the tag writer said, it’s jokingly referred to as “passing peer review.” (and of course people screenshot tags to criticize or mock them as well.) essentially, tags are like being at a big group dinner and saying something to the person next to you as an aside, and then sometimes that person goes “hey everyone listen to this”

post comments. there’s also an option on every post (unless op has turned it off) for people to comment on the post itself, not on a specific reblog. mostly this is useful for talking to people on personal posts or posts with reblogs turned off. on a bigger post, just reblog it and put your thoughts in an addition or tag.

asks. seems like you figured this one out! lmao. asks are used for a wide variety of things, but essentially it can either be a prompt for someone to make a post or a way of having an interaction/conversation with someone without dming them.

dms. these work like dms everywhere else, except the functionality is limited and it kinda sucks.

games. there are also many varieties of games that people play with each other, ranging from ask games (things like “rec me some music” or a post with prompts and people send you some from that list), tag games (typically there are questions you answer then you tag other people to fill them out for themselves) handwriting tags, follow chains, giveaways, name/url playlists, and more. with the addition of polls, brackets have gotten popular too (eg the tumblr sexyman bracket). there also used to be a lot of in-character ask blogs, where a user would set up a blog and roleplay as a specific character that people could send questions to (there still are some but way fewer and way less popular than there used to be)

to be honest i feel like i have to put “discourse” and “drama” on this list too. people on this site loveeee having the most insane arguments of all time and then everyone else memes the hell out of it. google “sonic for real justice” for an example lmao. (of course there’s also very unfunny political and fandom discourse that goes on as well. i would advise you to avoid discourse blogs as a general rule regardless of whether you agree with their position or not)

tagging people. you can also @ people in posts you think they’d like or if you feel like they have relevant input. typically this is something you would do either to people you’ve spoken to before, or a big blog with an established persona and rapport with their followers (eg if you follow a blog about snakes and you see a random post with snake info that seems wrong but you’re not sure, so you tag them to ask for their expertise).

and this isn’t a specific “mode” of communication but it’s also a thing to “interpret” (for lack of a better word) other people’s posts. for instance, people drawing a photo from the original post (i cant find it but there was a post going around recently where op posted an aesthetic photo of an egg cooking and then several people painted it), or people trying/recreating something a post was about (example). it was also a thing for a minute there where people would rewrite funny exchanges as shakespearean dialogue

those are all the ways i can think of, although im sure i’ve missed some (if other people think of any pls add on!). good luck, and i hope you’re able to meet some cool people!

[ratsbypaulzindel]

HI. BIG OVERVIEW OC POST THING. IT'S RAINFOREST FLOODS.

have you ever thought to yourself "hey wouldnt it be cool if there was an oc story made by two guys and it was about a haunted waterpark slash arcade in a fake town in a real state". you probably haven't. but if you have youre in luck! more under the cut ok.

rainforest floods is a terrible no good ocverse made by me and my good friend crawford @dykeseesgod. everyone in it sucks and is horrible except maybe one or two side characters. it's set in the podunk middle of nowhere town of timberline, new mexico, and more specifically a waterpark/arcade called rainforest floods (title drop).

also the waterpark SUUUCKS like its budget is nothing they are in debt. the managers havent paid taxes in 15 years. anyway these are the employees. theyre bad

and these are the co-managers. theyre even worse (and also toxic old man yaoi. these refs were drawn by the aforementioned crawford)

anyway yeah. they get up to wacky hijinks in what will ideally be a tv show coming out in one million years. they're also horrible and tragic. most of it is bruce's fault. some of its not though!

ok also here's some other side characters.

^ running gag that nobody knows her name except kelsey who has a huge crush on her.

^ unnamed girl's younger brother who is constantly faced with horrors and torment at the hands of the rainforest floods employees. dont get me wrong hes annoying as fuck but he didnt deserve to run on that hamster wheel. (ref also drawn by ford)

^ jeff's girlfriend. also the coolest person in timberline new mexico. worlds most unimportant minor character but she is wonderful and loved by the producers (me and cosmo)

FUNNY OUT OF CONTEXT THINGS THAT SHOULD MAKE YOU MORE INVESTED IN THIS OCVERSE

rainforest floods stupidity logic is a thing me and robbie came up with to explain why all the characters are idiots who dont find things out that are important to the plot too soon.

there's a chain gimmick restaurant that andy's whole family runs except him. its like italian food but its like also magicians. their tagline is "so good its practically magic". andy hates it.

kyle has a curse on him so that nobody remembers or recognizes him outside of like. his family. so the rff employees arent even targeting him for their shenanigans on purpose theyre all just weird freaks.

kelsey gives unnamed girl the company landline as her phone number because shes stupid and a ghost and doesnt have a phone.

the employees all get together on wednesdays in the breakroom and compare evidence on whether or not andy and bruce are together romantically. its the one thing that truly bonds them all together.

vincent: is a watchmojo fan, had his first kiss as beethoven in his 12th grade production of dog sees god confessions of a teenage blockhead (2004), gets really christian in some episode subplot, is not a swiftie but he is a gaylor, wishes he was jonathan sims sooooo bad, types like a toddler who was just given a keyboard.

vincent also ruined rainforest floods' lobby playlist

also there's a brand account that we run and post on whenever we feel like it. its more of a sounding board for ideas we may explore more in the future. its fun but it may be a bit difficult to get the full idea with the execution so :-( sorry you wont fully understand our wonderful and hilarious visions

annnd i think that's it. yay worlds silliest yet most tragic oc story. ok bye ^_^

[mazeinthemiroh]

hey! if you have time would you mind doing ateez headcannons on what they're like as a best friend? thanks! I love your writing so so much- you're so talented and I always look forward to your posts :)

ateez as best friends

genre: headcanons; fluffy crack stuff

word count: 0.8k

warnings: cursing

pls like and reblog if you enjoy! feel free to request anything <3

hongjoong

the honest friend

always offers solutions to your problems

appreciates and craves deep convos

not all the time, but every now and then

he likes to know that as much as he can have a good laugh with you, he can also express to you his problems and concerns

is the type to like a bit of routine in regards to friendship. like... going to the same cafe to catch up at the same time on the same day/s each week, sitting at the same table, ordering the same things, etc...

he likes having that little something to look forward to with his bestie on days when he is working

seonghwa

the comfort friend

literally just wants to listen to your worries forever and ever

he always gives you options. you want to talk about your feelings? here's there to listen. you want to cry? he'll give you his shoulder to cry on. you want a distraction from your worries? he'll make you forget you even have worries in the first place

he likes feeling useful in any way he can, so just so the word and he's happy to oblige

just naturally interested in other people

his whole presence is just so comforting ;-;

yunho

the carefree friend

just goes with the flow, to be honest. if he's in good company then there's nothing much to complain about

so ways to hang out with, honestly

he likes going with whatever anyone else wants, but if you're super indecisive then he's fine with making the decision as well, no biggie

he literally gets on with everyone purely because of how easy-going he is

and also he's just cute and nice and polite isn't he so >.<

he's just there to have a good time

there for the vibes 😎

yeosang

the sarcastic friend

you gotta get used to this humour

if you are besties with our sangie boi then you have the privilege of being the only one he will properly relax and be his true self with

he's still quiet but much more likely to come out of his shell and express himself more freely

which results in him being a sassy mf

you are the butt of all his jokes just to warn you

he likes being his random self with you and he appreciates that you get his humour

san

the clingy friend

once you've classified him as your bestie, there's literally no turning back

joined at the hip

likes sharing things with you. whether that's food, memes, playlists, etc... he wants his bestie to be a part of what he enjoys, yk??

giving you regular updates on his life and certainly expects you to do the same >:(

he's the type of friend that just absolutely adores and loves his friends so much

like they mean more to him than anyone else in his life

friends = family

mingi

the goofy friend

so silly and goofy 🤪

he's so random and most of the time he lets his intrusive thoughts win so be on the lookout for that

it's always a good time with him

he can have so much crackhead energy sometimes like it's hilarious

he is never, ever a boring best friend. that's just his personality; he's always got something to say and he never lets a conversation go stale

even when you guys are just sitting around, he's always bringing up the most random topics up or just weird speculations and shower thoughts he has, you know the drill

i love him uwu

wooyoung

the loud friend

laughs often

yall are the type of best friends who get strange looks from other people because of how obnoxiously loud you both are

like you two are the main characters and everyone else just sort of exists around you. wooyoung certainly doesn't care about what other people think and neither should you!

so you end up doing the randomest shit together

he loves spontaneity

also will take the craziest most unflattering pictures of you

his whole camera roll is just filled with pictures of you and him or where you guys have been together

he loves making memories <333

literally the best friend you could ever ask for, i can't lie

jongho

the independent friend

meets up every now and then

probably a few times a month because you guys have different schedules and are so busy

a firm believer that distance makes the heart grow fonder

he thinks that being around someone all the time, 24/7 isn't always the best case-scenario

having some time in between when you meet gives something for the both of you to talk about

and makes it seeing you more special

although both of you have the knack for gossiping about literally everybody

[everafterhighliveaction]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 May Update 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

hey, it’s katelyn! here’s my monthly update for what my content will look like this month.

heyyyy guys… sorry for being super lazy in april :/ i genuinely thought that i would get over my little creativity slump this past month but it just didn’t happen. i feel horrible for saying that i’d try to do better and then failing MISERABLY but i’m gonna try not to focus on that and just focus on doing a little bit better this month.

i have tons of drafts locked and loaded so realistically if i do get into another slump i should be okay for a while, but (as always) i’ll be continuing with head canons, character aesthetics, character playlists, and reposts from the community.

even though i said i would start posting them LAST month, i will start posting some ship playlists this month as way to make up for being so off my game in april.

i’m also gonna FINALLY stop gatekeeping my visualizations for each character’s MyChapter (which i know is a play on MySpace, but i never fucking had that so i based it on Instagram. sue me.)! i’ve been working on them for a little while now, trying to build up a couple so i have a good amount of content and i’m actually really proud of them so i’m excited to share those!!

and that’s all i have to update you about! again, so sorry for being absent in april, especially after i said i’d try to do better, but i really do think i’m going to be turning this around now.

now i’m gonna go take a nap. thank you for being kind and understanding. i love you endlessly! until next month <3

[honeycloudz]

Ran's Sacrifice

Content Warnings: major character death, angst no comfort, mentions of guns, it sucks but i wanted to post something

Spotify Playlist: watching ran die

You knew you should have denied this mission from Mikey, you had a bad feeling but shoved it down. Plus, you and Rans wedding was in just a few more days, so what could go wrong? It was just a quick mission. It was simple in hind sight really, just go to the enemy base and burn it down, effectively subduing them. You were too busy planning your wedding, too much firey hot excitement running through your veins to realize that this mission was a set up by the enemy gang. Now here you and Ran are, in the cross fire, surrounded by the bodies of lower level bonten soldiers and the enemies you both took down, hiding behind the car he drove to bring you both at the what was supposed to be the empty enemies base. There was only one more man left on the opposing side, just one more, but he was supplied with an automatic machine gun and kept hurdling bullets upon bullets onto you and ran. You were already shot in the leg and couldnt walk. And to make it worst, you were quickly losing blood. Unbeknownst to you Ran had already realized what he needed to do to save you. Ran tearfully turned to you and kissed you hurriedly but passionately, you were surprised but reciprocated the kiss. You pulled away for air and looked into his glossy eyes. "Y/N, i love you, i love you more than anything. It was an honor knowing you, laughing with you, and most of all loving you". He grabbed the nearly empty gun and turned to the enemy. "Ran, HEY, what do you mean?!, please sit back Ran!" you yelled and begged at him while trying to shove him back down, realizing what his plan is. "Ran please, please dont do this" you shook your head back and fourth panickingly. You used all your strength to pull him back down, but it was useless, you could barely move because of your wounded leg. He turned and smiled at you one last time. "We'll meet again Y/N". 

"RAN DONT-" it was too late, he was gone as soon as he pressed the trigger, aiming effectively and killing the man that tried to kill the both of you, saving you by choosing to die himself. He died happy knowing he saved you, the love of his life. He'd thought that maybe in another life he'd have finally been your husband and maybe you both left behind your criminal lives to have a family. you sat and cradled his body for hours sobbing, until the other bonten exuctives came to rescue you, not knowing their childhood friend had died. They stepped out of their vehicles weapons raised in the air, finger on the trigger ready to shoot at any threat but they quickly realized it was too late when they saw you, voice gone from weeping, holding your fiances body. They stared at you holding rans cold body in shock until rindou fell to his knees wailing.

a/n: I HATE THE WAY THIS TURNED OUT ALSO LISTEN TO THE SPOTIFY PLAYLIST I PROMISE ITS BANGER

[thief-of-eggs]

Hey, I've got a problematic question and I hope you could help me out with it

How do you make friends on tumblr? Like, I know that it is a stupid question and almost everybody finds it obvious. But for me it is pretty difficult - you see, I'm a very shy person, all throughout my life I didn't have almost any friends and when I want to talk to someone or start a conversation my mind usually goes blank. I know that it is bad and I really don't want it to be that way - I know that having friends on tumblr is an amazing thing, I know that the core of fandom is interacting with other fans and I really want to talk to other people about our favourite fandoms and ships. For example now I've got the snowjanus obsession and I'm dying to actually talking to someone about it. And there are some people I wish to talk to, but I simply don't know how to start a conversation with somebody, how to make a first step in friendship and so on. I guess that sounds stupid, but for me it is the reality. And you said that you have a lot of friends here - so can you tell me how to start a conversation, how to make friends?

Hey hey!!! Absolutely glad to help!!!

First and foremost- there is actually a snowjanus discord, if you’re interested!!! I can get you the link if you’d like, but discords are a great way to make friends in fandoms (i know this ask is about tumblr specifically but I felt I should give that option too)

For me, the biggest thing was just interacting with posts. I know it’s also different for me since I’m a fic writer, so people were pre-inclined to interact with me- but really just comments here and there can go a long way!!! Reblogs, comments, taggings etc

@sophiasrant and I became internet besties practically overnight because she commented on a post I’d made about a Timkon playlist saying we needed to compare notes. Like that’s it!! That’s all she said. And voila!!! She’s my ride or die in fandom now <333

Also, @captain-daryn literally just sent an ask to me being like “you also like Zukka??? and Hazbin??? and Timkon???” and I replied back and BOOM!! We chat now :))) A connection of shared interests does wonders fr

Tumblr is such a chill space, if there’s someone in particular that you’d love to scream about ships with- send them an ask!! Or a message!!! I get people in my inbox all the time saying we should chat about characters and I’m always down to :))

So yeah! I’d say just start by engaging in posts!!! The snowjanus fandom in particular is so chill, they’re always down to talk to someone new <3

[adhd-fanficwriter]

ANOTHER CHANCE - Chapter 3

ꕤ PAIRING ꕤ Daryl Dixon x Fem Reader

ꕤ RATING ꕤ Typical TWD stuff, so always 16+ I will let you know when it’s 18+

!! WARNING !! Sexual Abuse near the end.

ꕤ DISCLAIMER ꕤ I do not own any of the TWD characters. This story takes place in the TWD universe. I use the character and I might not follow the tv series. We’ve all seen the serie, you know the gore that it brings, the kills, the walkers. This al will be coming back in this series. So be warned.

ꕤ A/N ꕤ Please let me know what you think of the series! Tell me what you liked most of this chapter. ALSO if you’d like to know what Bailey and Lizy look like, let me know. I’ll post some pictures.

ꕤ Song Used ꕤ For this chapter I used a Walking Dead playlist.

< Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 > Chapter 3 I sat on the porch, tea in hand, enjoying the sun that was setting. Lizy was already asleep, she had a busy day. And with that I mean she had a full day of playing with the pigs and with Sam. Those two were inseparable. ‘’Hey’’ Jessie walked onto my porch. I nod my head at her. ‘’Sam's out cold too?’’ I chuckled. She laughed softly, ‘’Yeah, he fell asleep during dinner.’’ ‘’Lizy too.’’ I laughed. Jessie and I became good friends, mainly because our kids, I mean her kid and Lizy, play together all the time. We ate dinner together a lot, mostly when Pete was out in the infirmary, taking care of the people. I once noticed how she would flinch when he was nearby, and I asked about it, but she said it was nothing. I kept a close eye on her. ‘’You want one?’’ I ask her, holding out a cigarette. A bat habit I picked up, but I only smoke in the evening, when Lizy’s already in bed. Birds flew by, chirping at one another before settling in a tree to sleep. Jessie took a cigarette, holding it against mine to light it. ‘’We should stop this.’’ she smirked. ‘’When this all ends, I will consider it.’’ I smirked back and we chuckled again. We silently smoked it, enjoying the calmness of the evening. In the distance I saw Pete coming towards us and we quickly hid our cigarettes. No one knows we do this, so it better stays between us. ‘’Jessie. Come home. Now.’’ he demanded. I raised my eyebrow, ‘’Hello my sweet wife, are you ready to come home?’’ I mocked him, earning a side eye from Jessie. ‘’What? It sounds a lot nicer.’’ I shrugged. ‘’Shut your damn mouth. You don’t got to speak until you find yourself a man.’’ Pete eyed me up and down. I rolled my eyes, I have no energy dealing with him. ‘’I’ll see you tomorrow,’’ I hugged Jessie ‘’Be careful.’’ I whispered. She nodded and walked off, towards her home. Pete shot me one glance over his shoulder, but it didn’t phase me.  I closed the door behind me and walked upstairs. I had already taken a shower, so I just brushed my teeth and went to bed. I heard a faint sniffle coming from Lizy’s room. I sighed, walking over to her room, opening the door softly. ‘’Sweetheart?’’ I nudged her shoulder a little. She rolled on her back, ‘’what’s wrong?’’ I whispered, wiping the tears off her cheek. ‘’I.. .I miss mommy..’’ My heart swelled. It has been 6 months since we’ve been living here. She still has nightmares. They were rare now but in the first few weeks, she had them every night. She didn’t dare sleep alone and was always by my side. I scooped her up and brought her to my room. I was thinking of going with the scavenger group for a while, hoping to find a stuffed animal of some sort to give to her. She really needs something to hold while she sleeps, to calm her down. ‘’I’m right here love, nothing can hurt you.’’ I told her. I placed her in my bed and I crawled in from the other side, being a big spoon. She curled into me and hugged me. ‘’Mommy Bailey?’’ she sniffled, ‘’’hmm?’’ ‘’we are safe here right?’’ ‘’Yes love, we are.’’ I whispered, pushing a strand of hair from her face and kissing her forehead. ‘’Nothing to be scared off. Remember, our mommy’s send us to each other, so we are not alone.’’ She nodded, squeezing her head in the crook of my neck. I rubbed her back till I heard her breathing slow down and she eventually fell asleep.

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

I was out with Aiden and Heath, searching for medicine and other supplies. Normally Jessie and I stay in the pantry and I feed the animals too. This time I went out scavenging. I was tired, but I wanted to find that stuffed animal for Lizy, so she could cuddle up with it at night. The leaves crunched under our feet as we made our way over to the big shopping mall. Looking around us, the trees were still green. The sun was still high and warm, it must still be summer. I shift my cap so the sun is not in my face. ‘’Aiden, to your left.’’ I whisper. He nods and looks left, a walker coming towards us. He lets the walker walk in his direction, but doesn’t kill it. ‘’What are you doing?’’ I grit my teeth, ‘’kill it!’’. The walker now has both hands on Aidens shoulders, trying to bite him. Heath just laughs and my anger starts to boil. ‘’What the fuck are you doing?!’’ I now speak up louder, walking towards Aiden and shoving my dagger in the skull of the walker. ‘’I'm just playing around Bails, don’t worry.’’ He chuckled. ‘’You think this is funny?’’ I ball my fists, ‘’I lost my mom to one of those. You either stay away from them or you kill them.’’ I jab my finger in his chest. He slowly grabs my finger, and then my hand. ‘’I’m still alive, don’t worry.’’ He says softly, squeezing my hand. I look down at our hands and back up in his eyes and they soften. ‘’Don’t do it again.’’ I drop my hand out of his. We continue walking and we enter the shopping mall. ‘’There’s a kid store on the first floor.’’ Heath tells me with a smile and I nod, searching for a way up. I find the escalators, it’s broken but I can still walk the steps. Why was Aiden so soft? I mean he’s a nice, good looking guy. You don’t see that anymore these days. I sigh and enter the kid store. My eyes catch a glimpse of fluff and I walk around the isles. A big teddy bear sits there, and looks pretty clean too. I chuckle to myself, Lizy is going to love this. I pull out some rope from my bag and strap the bear to my bag. I walk back down again, looking for Heath and Aiden. ‘’Guys?’’ I whisper. No sound. Where are they? ‘’Heath? Aiden?’’ I try again, a little louder. I hear laughter coming from the dvd store and walk towards it. ‘’There you guys ar- seriously?’’  I cock my eyebrow as I see what they’re looking at. ‘’I thought you both were adults? You look like 16 year old boys, seeing boobs for the first time.’’ I chuckle as I see them watching the covers of some porn dvds.They both turn around, their faces red. I roll my eyes, ‘’Found the medicine?’’ They nod and keep quiet. ‘’Let’s go then?’’ I ask and start to walk away. Once outside the building I take in the fresh air. It smelled like mold and death in there. I wait and wait and they finally come out. Well, Aiden comes out. ‘’Heath?’’ ‘’He wanted to go back home alone.’’ Aiden shrugs his shoulders. I furrow my eyebrows. Why would he want that? ‘’Are you sure?’’ ‘’Yeah, don’t worry about him.’’ He smiles, slinging his arm over my shoulder and we start to walk.

I keep quiet the whole time, not knowing what to say. I look over my shoulder, his hand lazily hanging there. ‘’Aiden, your arm is kinda heavy.’’ I chuckle nervously and grab his hand, trying to get his arm off my shoulders. ‘’Nonsense.’’ He puts his arm back and tucks me in his side. I dare to look at him from the side and he smirks back. ‘’Seriously tho, that bear is weighing me down, I don’t need your arm either.’’ It comes out with no emotion. He looks down at me, smiles and grabs my backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. ‘’Better now?’’ he asks, placing his arm back over my shoulder. I sigh and grab his hand again, pulling it away. I can see him rolling his eyes and he stops. ‘’Why are you being like this?’’ He asks, annoyed. ‘’Like what?’’ ‘’Like you don’t want me.’’ He smirks, setting the backpack on the ground and walks slowly towards me. ‘’Stop.’’ I say, placing my hand on his chest. He grabs both my hands and pins me against a tree, my hands above my head. ‘’It’ll only take a few minutes.’’ Aiden smirks and chuckles deeply, his eyes darkening. He starts to kiss my cheek, leaving wet stains on my skin. ‘’S-stops, please’’ I cry out. ‘’You saw me back there, watching those women on the dvds. I am a man and a man has needs, darling. You won’t leave me hanging, do you?’’ He whispers in my ear and kisses the shell, sucking on my earlobe. He presses his crotch against mine and I can already feel how much he wants me. ‘’Aiden, stop!’’ I yell, trying to get out of his grasp. He only chuckles and loosens his belt with one hand, the other still holding my hands above my head. I try to escape his grip but he only tightens it around my wrists. ‘’Aiden, please.’’ I whimper as he pushes my shirt up, revealing my bra. His eyes are full of lust. ‘’Let me show you that I have seen boobs.’’ He licks his lips. My eyes start to water and my vision becomes blurry. ‘’Stop!’’ I yell, hoping there’s someone near. ‘’Stop talking!’’ He smacks my face. I let out a cry of pain, feeling my cheek burning. Is this really happening? I try to kick but he has me all pinned down against the tree. He unclips my belt and opens my jeans. ‘’HELP!’’ I yell out, but all I get is another smack. I whimper and my vision is getting more blurred and black. I shake and I feel his hand slipping in my jeans. ‘’No… ‘’ I whisper, my lip quivers. I close my eyes, waiting for it to be over, but it never comes.

‘’Fuck!’’ I hear Aiden yell out and I open my eyes. There’s an arrow sticking out of his leg. What is going on? I look around but see no one until I hear some leaves rustling to my right. I quickly look over but all I see is a pair of narrowed blue eyes. We lock eyes but before I can say or do anything, they’re gone. I look down, Aiden is on the ground. I quickly ran away, leaving my backpack and the bear behind, hoping to find Heath or Alexandria. I don’t know who that was, but they saved me. I hope to see them again, to thank them. As the twigs and sticks crush underneath my feet, I try to recall the path we took. Left, right, turn at this tree? Tears well up in my eyes again, he almost raped me. I won’t let this happen again. I need to get stronger, I need to train more. The path clears up and I see the walls of Alexandria. ‘’Thank god..’’ I catch my breath and walk up to the gates. I spot Heath when I walk inside and walk up to him. ‘’Did you know?!’’ I ask, grabbing his arm. He looks at me, ‘’Did I know what?’’ ‘’That he was about to…’’ I can’t say it. ‘’What did he do?’’ Heath asks softly, grabbing my arms to steady me. ‘’He asked me to leave the two of you alone because he wanted to talk to you. What did he do Bailey?’’ I shake my head, tears falling down my cheeks. ‘’He… He tried to..’’ I can’t get it out of my mouth but Heath is catching on and I can see the anger boiling in his eyes. ‘’He’s mine when he comes back, if he dares to come back.’’ He grits his teeth. ‘’I’m so sorry Bailey, if I knew this, I wouldn't have left you alone with him.’’ He puts his arm around me guiding me towards my house. Once at my door I nod, and walk in, collapsing against the door. I pull up my knees and hug myself. ‘’Mommy Bailey?’’ A soft voice snapped me out of it. ‘’Yes, love?’’ I sniffed, looking up at her. ‘’Are you okay?’’ She wrapped her little arms around my neck and I engulfed her into my arms. ‘’I’m fine sweetheart, just a long day.’’ I kissed her cheek. ‘’Did you play with Sam today?’’ I tried changing my mood. ‘’Yes! And I made you this!’’ She ran away, coming back with a piece of paper. ‘’It’s us!’’ I looked at the drawing and she made us. ‘’Wow Lizy! This is so good! Did you draw this all by yourself?’’ She nods, and then I see someone else there too. ‘’Who’s this?’’ I point to the other figure. ‘’Your boyfriend!’’ She giggles. ‘’Boyfriend!?’’ I tickle her and she laughs more. ‘’Do you think I need one?’’ She nods, ‘’So we can be one happy family!’’ she throws her hands in the air. I chuckle, ‘’We’ll see.’’ I look back at the figure on the paper and notice the blue eyes it has. I think back to the pair I saw in the woods and smile. ‘’You are a natural.’’ I say, standing up and hanging the drawing on the fridge. ‘’You hungry?’’ She nods and I start to make dinner, those two ocean eyes never leaving my thoughts.

< Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 >

[the-fandom-crossroads]

Help Pick Furina's Character Song!

I am currently making a Playlist of every Genshin character being represented by one song. Some of them I still can't find a song for. List of missing characters post Here!

But Some character's like Furina have TOO Many Songs so I can't decide on just one. So here's a poll to help me decide which song should represent Furina in the playlist!

If you have a suggestion I'd love to hear about it in the comments or tags!

This is the basics of what I look for when trying to see if a song fits the character. The song should fit their personality, but also their drive/inspiration for doing what they do. Basically why Celestia picked them to get a vision. In the case of Show Yourself it would be channeling the Moment of getting Furina's Vision.

A longer breakdown of why I think each song fits Furina under the read more! Includes minor 4.2 Spoilers!

The first 3 were actually picked before 4.2 came out. But the added context to Furina's Story in 4.2 built more depth into them that they didn't originally have. Regardless nearly every line of these songs fits Furina so don't be surprised by the wall of lyrics. It's what makes picking so hard!

Castle

"Sick of all these people talking, sick of all this noise. Tired of all these cameras flashing, sick of being poised."

"Already choking on my pride, so there's no use crying about it.

I'm headed straight for the castle. They wanna make me their queen. And there's an old man sitting on the throne. That's saying that I probably shouldn't be so mean."

This was the first song picked out for her back during 4.0. It perfectly describes the Mask personality Furina wear's for the roll of Hydro Archon along with hinting at the cracks. It really fits Furina's vibes in the beginning and the confidence she shows. But it doesn't go deeper than that and it doesn't hint at Focalors involvement in anyway.

It's mostly still on the list because it was the first and because Furina's character trailer just is this song. Like I could use those clips for an AMV of this song and it would fit without changing any context.

Little Talks

"There's an old voice in my head. That's holding me back.

Well, tell her that I miss our little talks.

Soon it will be over and buried with our past."

"You're gone, gone, gone away. I watched you disappear. All that's left is a ghost of you.

Now we're torn, torn, torn apart. There's nothing we can do. Just let me go, we'll meet again soon.

Now wait, wait, wait for me, please hang around. I'll see you when I fall asleep.

Don't listen to a word I say (Hey) The screams all sound the same (Hey)"

So I also picked this one back during 4.0, but it has only grown to fit more as we have learned more. There are two lead singers for this song. The lady and her Lyrics (italics) are Furina, while the man (Bold) is Neuvillette. By the end they are both singing the lyrics.

The "old voice" originally was just Furina's internalized anxiety we saw during Lyney's trial. But it now can also fit the warnings of Focalors and how that held Furina back from trusting in Neuvillette to be able to help her.

The "I watched you disappear" would also be Neuvillette witnessing Focalors death. While "is a ghost of you" is the depression spell Furina clearly fell into between the Archon quest and her character quest where she pulled away from everyone.

"the screams" would be from the centuries of trials they oversaw together. Childe was not the first to refuse to go quietly. Furina acted like it was all entertainment. But some of those guilty verdicts would stick with anyone and to have collected hundreds if not thousands of those sorts of verdicts over the years. "The screams of the damned" as they say. Will probably haunt both of them for the rest of their existence.

The State of Dreaming

"My life is a play, is a play, is a play."

"If only you knew my dear. How I live my life in fear. If only you knew my dear. How I know my time is near

Yeah, I've been living in the state of dreaming. Living in a make-believe land. Living in the state of dreaming, of dreaming, of dreaming"

Now this song is currently already on the playlist for Nilou because of 3.0 and the Samsara dream. But Furina's been acting the roll of Archon for centuries now. Her life is literally a play. But the songs lyrics only repeat this phrase. So it doesn't cover other parts of Furina's story.

Show Yourself

"Something is familiar. Like a dream I can reach. But not quite hold. I can sense you there. Like a friend I’ve always known. I’m arriving. And it feels like I am home."

"Where the Northwind meets the sea. There's a River. Full of Memories."

"Step into your power. Grow yourself into something new.

You are the one you’ve been waiting for

All of my life. All of your life."

So this one only got added to the list after learning about Focalors at the end of 4.2 and now I can't unsee it. Fontaine's water holding memories is literally pulled from Frozen II. Like that was not a common thing before Frozen II.

Furina her whole life was waiting for Focalors the "real" Hydro Archon to show up and take over as Archon. But Furina had always been Fontaine's real Hydro Archon. She was enough. I like to image the end being Furina getting bestowed with her vision.

The only thing causing me to pause with Show Yourself is that, like with State of Dreaming, the song is already being used by another character. Xingqui's VA sang a cover of this song and that cover is part of the reason I even thought to make this playlist. So it has a place of being one of the first songs picked for the character.

Of course if it sweeps the poll I'll swap it in for Furina. That's why we're doing this poll because I can't decide on my own.

---

So yeah those are the songs. I feel like I'd probably find a 5th option if I looked at Christian Songs, so I'm specifically not doing that. But if you think of one and you feel like it fits better than these feel free to share it!

Thank you for reading if you got all the way down here!

[shimmerbeasts]

MINI CHARACTER PLAYLIST Share at least five songs that remind you of your muse, or that you associate with your muse's character arc. Including lyrics is optional.

Don't Remember Me by HalaCG

Why's it so hard to breathe? Chasing down more ways to please. I'll show them all I'm stronger Not like your memories Now that I've broken free You're not someone I need Won't play nice any longer. So don't remember me.

Let's be real: Everybody who has not followed my Jinx since yesterday knew this song was going to be on my list! Back when I first started out writing this muse and looked for fan songs (as I like to do), this song just struck a chord with me. The reason, it is on my list here, is if I had to characterise my Jinx with one song, all the struggles she endured, the difficulties, she has with her sister, but also that reliance and trust she has in Silco, this would be it. Don't Remember Me is Jinx broken down in her purest form.

Start Of Something New by Ely Eira

Take a step, let our moment come We can have our escape, hey We will have all that we wanted We will be touching the sky History can no longer haunt us 'Cause right now This is the start of something new

After the end of Act Three, with Silco dead and Vi having in her mind completely abandoned her for the final time, Jinx should be at her lowest point and utterly broken. However, that is not what happens. Instead, as she blows up the Council building with the Super Mega Death Rocket, it almost seems like she is experiencing a personal moment of triumph. Even though she is grieving so many things at once (both Silco and Vi simultaneously), she also is reshaping herself in this burn-it-all-down moment. For me, Start Of Something New embodies this idea of an older and more mature Jinx. If Don't Remember Me encapsulates Jinx as a whole, then Start Of Something New is Jinx becoming the toymaker.

Shared Eyes by Blixemi

You're not who you think you are And I wish I never knew I don't want to see the irony That you hate me for being you Pushed me to walk 'neath starless skies 'Cause I'll never shine as bright As the light of your eye What good is it to even try? You'll never hear, or see, or face All the parts of you you despise Come to life Standing right 'fore your eyes in spite Reminding both of us have wished on a starless night

Strangely enough, this song in my eyes is not about Jinx and Vi - it is about Jinx and Mylo! Specifically, it is about her wrestling with whom he is post-mortem. I believe that after his death, she spent a lot of time thinking over the fact that it was his voice she could hear and him she could see. I think a lot of her earliest actions are very much motivated by proving him wrong, yet at the same time, I could easily see her feel like she has almost inherited his nature and that there is some kind of truth in his ire. At the same time, Shared Eyes also captures her regarding Mylo's love and approval as being almost unreachable. Because she cannot just purely hate him. He is still her older brother, despite the mockery, despite the insults, despite the cruelty. This contradiction of her love for her older brother with what he has done to her mental state is perfectly shown here.

Voices by Motionless In White/Bad Luck by Aviators/In My Head by NateWantsToBattle

As I walk through this valley of shadows and death I curse not the wicked, I praise not the blessed If I told you the truth you'd beg me to change If fear were a currency you'd own the bank

______

Welcome to the freak show Thought the odds were equal Roulette in my head keeps rolling on Let the bloody streets flow Nothing holds a candle To thе rapid fire of my own gun Maybe psycho Push me and you might go Ovеr in a blaze of arcane blue Stop me if I ramble I'll come take a gamble for you 'Cause you need a little bad luck baby

______

You don't know the half of it (half of it) Hands up while I take the hits (take the hits) It's something that you can't admit I fight for my life, now I'm done with your sh- Say it once, say it twice, now you're in my head Say it all a thousand times, leaving me for dead Say it once, say it twice, now you're in my head Say it at the same time, Jinx, and now you're dead

I am aware that I am cheating a bit here because I am picking three songs instead of one. However, I will count them as one as in my eyes, these songs all depict one element of Jinx extremely well: Her mania. Whereas Shared Eyes showed the complexity of what Jinx is seeing, Voices, Bad Luck and In My Head all show how these hallucinations trigger Jinx's mania and madness and what it feels like to be enraptured by this mental instability. The instrumentals of all these songs are more in the alternative rock direction and they even sound a bit disjointed and overpowering. They do not just cover how frightening living in such episodes is for Jinx, but they also capture what a danger she becomes for other people. How her mania limits her inhibitions, how it gives her an easily excitable trigger finger, how it makes her almost revel and cherish the carnage, she is causing. I have a lot more songs which capture this Jinx is dangerous when a mania episode hits vibe, but those three are probably the most crucial ones.

You're A Jinx/Everyone Else Betrays Us/Is There Anything So Endearing As a Daughter?/You're Perfect from the Arcane soundtrack

When it comes to Silco and Jinx as people, I feel like their dynamic cannot be captured in songs. Mostly because both participants are such layered and complex individuals, which creates such a convoluted dynamic that most songs, dealing with complex (read: toxic) dynamics just do not encompass it completely. Poison from Hazbin Hotel sort of fits the bill, but if we are honest, nothing captures these two better than Arcane's soundtrack, specifically the instrumentals where their leitmotifs intermingle and influence one another. The way these four instrumentals work back to back in my eyes really shows under what extraordinary circumstances, Silco found Powder and how his influence was able to anchor her, even in the most trying and difficult times. At the same time, I love how the latter two songs show that Silco did indeed love Jinx and that he loved her completely unconditionally. Again, I need to reiterate how calming Silco's leitmotif is - especially with Jinx's violin themes, which are often frantic and high-pitched. Just hearing his leitmotif weaving into hers, you can hear Jinx's madness simmer down, you can hear Silco deescalating the situation in the music! And I love how this facette appears even before tracks like Is There Anything So Undoing As A Daughter or You're Perfect. It is like the instrumental is showing that Silco had Jinx's best interest at heart even back then!

Tagged by: @piltover-sharpshooter, @ferinehuntress, @jynxd

Tagging: @moxxietude, @playgroundmonsters (Ran and Vi), @undercity-merc, @restrainedhungr, @blackrosesmatron, @demacianhcart, @weavertali, and whoever has not done this yet.

[darkrpfinder]

Hey there y’all! I go by Corduroy, my pronouns are he/they and I am 19.

Since I’m 19, and looking for mature themes in the rp, my partners should be 18+! Same goes for characters.

I’ve been real into Hannibal and Saltburn recently, so as a result am super interested in doing a psychological horror AND dark/very toxic “romance” with a lean on corruption tropes. Gaslighting and girlbossing etc/j

I’m also interested in noncon, masochism and knife play, a lil bit of cannibalism maybe, but these things don’t have to be included!

Most of my oc’s are sub leaning switches, but I’m super open to creating new characters. Pairings I’m looking for are strictly mxm(nb’s can be included).

I’m open to brainstorming plots, here are few ideas.

•serial killer x “prey” he finds himself infatuated with. (Could be set in the 1800s or modern. Ages of characters 20+)

•priest x sinner (who’s more manipulative and fucked up is debatable. Ages would be 29+)

•Frankenstein x his monster (Not literally Frankenstein- and the monster would be fully intelligent, capable and there’d be no “parental” insinuations at all. Ages: 25+)

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I am a literate rper, sometimes I go into adv.lit if I have a lot of time/energy. I’d like my partner to match this! I don’t mind if literacy dips up and down occasionally, but try to at least get a few paragraphs out. And don’t be afraid to ask me to rewrite my reply if you need more to work with! I am also rather slow going, I don’t mind going weeks without an actual rp reply as long as we’re at least actively talking ooc about plans and headcanons, as I get burnt out know others do too. I love making Pinterest boards and playlists for rp’s, and even art!

Sorry if this is too messy or I’ve messed up somewhere, I’ve never used an rp finder account to find rp’s before.

If interested, interact with this post and I’ll dm you! I prefer using discord.

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