#San one shot

[yoongiseesawmp3]

own my mind - san (m)

summary: part of the idol series. idol!san x producer!reader. san hates you, you're sure of it, and the feeling is pretty mutual. are these feelings true, or does he just need to spend some time getting to know you?

word count: 10.6k

warnings: smut. afab reader. oral (f and m receiving) unprotected sex w pull out method, don't do that. recording during sex, don't do that either.

masterlist

"so the practice rooms are down this hall," your new boss explains as he shows you around kq, "and over here are the boys' studios, but your's will be this way..."

you're trying to take it all in and simultaneously remember where all of the confusing hallways lead. kq may not look like much on the outside, but within it's basically a maze. you keep nodding and smiling as you follow your boss around, politely greeting anybody you encounter. he ends by bringing you into a conference room to finalize some paperwork, and after that you're on your own. you're officially the newest producer at kq, and...you have no idea what to do next.

you step out of the conference room and try your hardest to remember which direction leads back to the studios, but you also need coffee. you remember where the kitchen is, so you head that way as you text your friend jen. she recommended you for this job, and she promised she'd say hi on your first day. she's one of the make up artists for ateez, so she's always around, but her schedule is a little more frantic than yours. you understand if she doesn't answer right away, so you send the text and forget about it. you take a moment to yourself in the company kitchen as you try to figure out the coffee machine, letting your thoughts wander.

are you really cut out for this? it's your first day and you already feel overwhelmed. do they expect you to just go into your studio and start producing? what kind of tracks do they have planned for the next album? will the current producers even let you touch anything important, or will you have to prove yourself first? you're thinking about all this and more when someone bursts into the kitchen with a screech.

"Y/N!!!" jen yells as she scoops you into a hug. "you're here! it's finally happening!"

"this isn't very professional," you laugh as you hug her back. "you're helping me make a bad first impression."

"not possible, i've been talking about how great you are for months," she smiles. "they're gonna love you, seriously. i can't wait to hear what you make."

"what if i suck though?" you ask, but jen shakes her head.

"don't do that. no negativity on your first day."

"whatever."

"so what are you doing first?" she asks, taking the coffee you just brewed and having a sip for herself.

"dude, that was mine," you cry, and she hands it back to you with a half assed apology. "um, what am i doing first...well, i got confused on my welcome tour, so i guess i'll wander around until i figure out where my studio is."

"oh i can show you," jen brushes you off. "it's not that confusing, you just need to walk it all a few times. lots of doors, but you'll get the hang of it."

"do you want to make your own coffee, or can you show me around right now?" you ask as you finish doctoring up your mug.

"i can just have another sip of yours," she says as she reaches for it, but you hold it just out of reach as someone else walks in.

"hey jen," hongjoong greets her, his eyes falling to you next. "are you y/n? i've been summoned to help you get started."

"thank god," you sigh in relief. "i wasn't sure what to do, so i appreciate it. it's nice to meet you, finally."

"likewise," he smiles. "i'm a big fan of your work."

"really?" you feel yourself blush. "thank you. you were one of the reasons i started producing, so that means a lot."

"really?" now it's hongjoong's turn to blush. "well, that's...nice."

"great," jen claps her hands, easing over the awkward silence. "you can show y/n her studio and the two of you can keep gushing about how great you both are." she turns to you and puts her hands on your shoulders, giving you a playful shake. "you're gonna do great things here. be nice to yourself. and uhhh, go team!"

"thanks jen," you laugh as you wave goodbye, following a respectable distance behind hongjoong. he looks back to make sure he hasn't lost you and motions for you to come closer.

"no need to be shy," he tells you. "we'll need to be pretty comfortable with each other considering how close we'll be working together."

"how often will i be working with you?"

"mmm, every day maybe?" he thinks about it. "in the beginning at least. you'll shadow me for a few days to see how the studios run, and then you'll sort of report to me with whatever you're working on. hopefully we won't get tired of each other."

"i don't think that'll be an issue," you assure him. you catch the tips of his ears turning red and you smile to yourself. "so, what makes a good producer here?"

you watch in admiration as hongjoong explains the creativity and collaboration that makes kq work so well, and you kick yourself for getting distracted again. you were supposed to be watching your surroundings, keeping an eye out for where to go to find your studio, but you can't help it. in this moment, it hits you: you get to make music with one of your favorite producers for one of your favorite artists. you must be dreaming, right?

if this is a dream, you're knocked out of it abruptly. while you were watching hongjoong, you weren't watching where you were going, and you walked right into the human equivalent of a brick wall. you spill your coffee everywhere, but don't worry, most of it lands on the most handsome man you've ever seen in your entire life. you're currently staring at choi san, singer of ateez and one of your new coworkers. he's looking down at you, a little bit of shock in his eyes, and you rush to correct the situation.

"oh, shit, i'm sorry," you apologize. you look to hongjoong for help and he's running off to find napkins, leaving you with a very buff man in a soaking wet white t shirt. "i am so so sorry, really, here, let me try to-"

"don't worry about it," san takes a step back. he starts to walk away, but you follow behind him.

"at least let me-"

"i said don't worry about it," he tries again, his tone calm but his eyes tell a different story. he's glaring down at you, which makes your blood boil. he has a right to be mad at you for spilling coffee on him, but why's he pissed at you for trying to help clean him up?

"sure, go drip coffee all down the hallway then," you grumble as you brush past him. "i'll tell hongjoong to follow the trail when he comes back with your napkins."

"fine," san sighs, stopping where he stands. he throws his hands up and asks, "happy?"

"sure."

"who are you anyway?" he mumbles to himself, looking you up and down. you feel his eyes linger, and it makes goosebumps rise over your skin. you take that as a further sign that this guy is getting on your nerves.

"i'm y/n, i'm the new producer," you answer. "nice to meet you."

"you spill coffee on all of your coworkers, y/n?" he asks, and you roll your eyes.

"i said i was sorry-"

"here's hongjoong," san cuts you off. he reaches out for the napkins and smiles at his bandmate. "thanks man."

"so you've met y/n," hongjoong chuckles, trying to ease the tension. "she's really great, we're lucky to have her on the team." san doesn't reply, just nods and sends you a tightlipped smile as he dabs at his ruined t shirt. the fabric is basically translucent now, showing san's tan skin below and the definition of every single muscle. hongjoong clocks the way your eyes are trailing over san's torso and he clears his throat. "um, should we continue our tour?"

"yeah, sorry," you gesture for him to lead the way, and you hold san's gaze as you walk away. he's a dick, you think. that'll be fun.

-

"so is san always an asshole?" you yell over the loud music to jen as you follow her to a table. she insisted on taking you out for drinks to celebrate your first day, and after the morning you had, you need this.

"is he what?!" she shouts back.

"an asshole!"

"san?" she looks at you bewildered. "he's a sweetheart!"

"are we talking about the same guy?"

"are we?" jen questions as she finally pulls you to a table in the back. it's a little quieter back here, so you don't have to shout, but the music will still drown out your conversation so no one can eavesdrop. once you're both settled, she takes a sip of her drink and then, "spill."

"nothing to spill, i just think san is mean and i hate him," you say simply. "i spilled coffee on him, totally an accident, but he was a huge dick about it. wouldn't let me help him, didn't really introduce himself...it all felt off."

"to be fair, i would've been pissed if you had spilled coffee on me when we met," jen points out.

"yeah, but you would've been nicer in the aftermath," you shake your head. "it's whatever. i hopefully won't have to work that closely with him."

"and what about hongjoong?" jen wiggles her eyebrows. "i hear you two hit it off."

"he's nice," you smile shyly. "made my first day a lot easier. he was really patient with all my questions, which helped ease my nerves."

"he's really good at that," jen nods. she goes into a story about her first meeting with hongjoong, and it makes you laugh and endears you to the man more. she tells you stories of the other members, none of whom you met today, but now you're excited to get to know them. "they're all really nice, especially san and yunho. i feel like they're the ones that always check up on everybody-"

"san?"

"yes, your mortal enemy," she rolls her eyes. "he's a good guy, i promise. you just need to make up for the coffee thing and i think you'll be on his good side."

"i'll think about that," you mumble, taking a sip of your drink that almost drains the glass. "so who's this guy you're seeing?"

"whoa, looks like you need another one!" jen deflects. she grabs your glass and runs off to the bar to get another round, leaving you to sit and stew on your own. if san was such a nice guy, why was he only rude to you? it sounds like he isn't mean to other newbies, so it can't be some kind of hazing. whatever dislike he holds for you is personal, and that's making you even angrier. when jen comes back with your new drink she says, "you look mad. what did i miss?"

"can you find out why san hates me?" you ask, and you swear jen would punch you if she could reach across the table.

"he doesn't hate you!! you just made a bad impression! stop making him a villain," she begs you. "man, you're so obsessed with him. maybe someone has a crush?"

"please," you scoff. "just because he has muscles doesn't make up for his shit personality."

"so you like his muscles," jen smirks. "tell him that tomorrow, it'll boost his ego."

"i'm not listening to you anymore."

"but i have so much knowledge to share!" she whines, and you let jen tell you all the do's and don'ts of working at kq as the night goes on. maybe you'll take her advice and try to patch things up with san in the morning. could be worth a shot, right?

-

the next day, you're in one of the bigger studios to help hongjoong with a vocal arrangement. since the last album did so well with the unit songs, you and hongjoong wanted to experiment a little further. you excitedly told hongjoong about your hopes to compose and produce a harmony heavy vocal track, and he was all for it. you worked on the music for it last night, bringing about half of the song to hongjoong for you to play around with today. you both agreed it'd be good to have a guide version ready before you share it with the entire vocal line, so seonghwa offered to help out, too. he's in the booth now as you and hongjoong instruct him from your seats behind the soundboard. he finishes the final layer for the first harmony, and you wait as hongjoong lines it all up. he plays the snippet for you and seonghwa, and you notice both boys are waiting for your reaction.

"that was great, seonghwa," you encourage him. "i really liked it, but..."

"don't be shy," hongjoong nudges you, "he can take it."

"i can," seonghwa agrees. "give it to me straight. did it suck?"

"no, it was really beautiful actually," you assure him. "but for the melody, could you make it more...monotone? that might sound weird, but we're trying to play with the high and low harmony like they're the angel and devil sitting on your shoulder, and for those to stand out the melody needs to be less...captivating."

"you hear that? she thinks your voice is captivating," hongjoong smiles to seonghwa, and he beams at you.

"i get that," he nods. "can i try it another way?"

you help hongjoong reset, and then seonghwa tries another layer in a sadder voice. it's just as powerful, but will be the perfect conduit for the story you're trying to tell. when he finishes, they look to you again and find you smiling proudly.

"that was it," you nod. "great job."

"thanks boss," seonghwa says as he steps out of the booth. "who do you want me to bring in next?"

"you can call san, we'll get him to do the high part and then-"

"san?" you look at hongjoong. "i thought seonghwa was doing the guide vocals."

"well, usually we could do with just one voice, but this song would work best with three distinct voices," hongjoong explains. "i don't think the guys would get it if it's harder to distinguish the different levels, you know?"

"right," you agree, just a little dejected.

"so..." seonghwa trails off. "should i go get him?"

"yeah, tell him to meet us here in ten," hongjoong tells him. seonghwa says his goodbyes and then hoongjoong turns to you. "you alright?"

"i'm good," you reply. "feel a little in over my head, but good."

"you're doing great," hongjoong says, placing his hand over yours on the desk. "it's a lot to jump into, and i'm sorry if it seemed like i was-"

"no, i needed the insight-"

"because i value your opinion-"

"i know that-"

"and-" hongjoong is cut off from finishing his thought because the studio door opens to reveal san. he's wearing another skin tight t shirt, black this time, so even if you spilled another coffee on him it would be harder to notice. he's paired it with a beanie and baggy black pants, and if what you're seeing is correct, he's not wearing any underwear. he stands there staring at you both before his eyes fall to your hand still beneath hongjoong's, and the two of you separate like you've just been shocked.

"i'm not interrupting anything, am i?" san asks suspiciously, and you viciously shake your head as hongjoong tells san to get into the booth. he explains the idea to san and queues up seonghwa's melody as san struggles to put the headphones on over his hat, so you lean into the mic and suggest, "try taking the hat off, maybe?"

"thanks, big help," he says sarcastically. he listens anyway, tossing his beanie away like he's mad at it. "so what am i doing? copying hwa?"

"no," you say sternly. "you're singing the high harmony. we'll layer it over seonghwa's vocals, but your voice needs to be distinct. you can practice if you want-"

"i don't need to practice," san cuts you off, staring daggers at you. "just play it." he keeps his eyes on you as he listens, and you feel nervous. he's listening to your song, your lyrics, and you think you see the slightest flicker of emotion in his eyes as seonghwa's voice fades. he doesn't comment on it, just continues staring at you and says, "yeah, got it. you can record this."

"let's listen to it first, and then record the next one," you tell hongjoong, and he nods in agreement. you watch san get ready, and then you hear the most beautiful falsetto flowing over your track. it makes you emotional, and it's another instance of the coolness of your job hitting you. you're so mesmerized you miss san finishing on a bit of a creative note, so the boys are staring, waiting for your input.

"y/n?" hongjoong calls your name. "what'd you think?"

"that was," you clear your throat, "that was perfect, san."

"great," he nods, taking the headphones off, but you stop him.

"ah, we need to record it," you remind him, and you catch his groan through the mic.

"i thought i said to record that one?"

"you don't decide that," you reply, and hongjoong tries to diffuse.

"she has a specific vision for the song, so we wanted to hear you first and then decide if there were any notes before we record you."

"what's the vision?" san asks you, and he listens intently as you explain. when you're done, he takes a deep breath and says clearly into the mic, "that sounds stupid. but i'll do it again. make sure you're recording this time."

"whatever you say, asshole," you mumble, angrily getting the track ready for his bratty voice. you wish you could stay mad at him, but as soon as he starts to sing you're enchanted. again, you get distracted by his voice, the emotion in it and all over his face as he sings, and you think, if he says your idea was stupid, why was he putting so much heart into just a guide vocal? he finishes and you thank him, saving the track quickly before you turn to hongjoong and inform him you need a water break. he's left in the studio with san as he saunters out, but hongjoong meets him at the door.

"what's your problem?" he barks, livid at the way san was treating you during that session.

"uh, you're blocking my exit?" he asks, but that was the wrong thing to say. hongjoong dives into a lecture about respect, and san has to laugh. "oh, you want me to respect the girl who spilled coffee all over me yesterday? who thinks, on her second day, she can tell me how to do my job?"

"she's a producer, her job is to literally tell you what to do-"

"well i'm sorry i hurt your girlfriend's feelings," san spits. "but i did what you asked me to do, so please let me leave." hongjoong steps to the side, still fuming, and san walks out. you catch him in the hall as you return, and you want to stop him, to tell him how great he sounded, but when you lift your hand in greeting he turns the other way and disappears.

-

you get a break from work later that day and find jen making a coffee. she sees you coming and has a cup ready for you to make your own, and you catch up on your days as your coffee brews. you tell her about san's lovely time with you in the studio, and jen listens, but when you finish she asks, "and he was still like this after you said you liked his muscles?"

"i'm not telling him that," you mumble.

"telling who what?" wooyoung asks as he pops around the corner.

"mind your business?" jen replies. "have you met y/n yet? she's the new producer."

"no, but i've heard mixed reviews," wooyoung says as he dramatically shakes your hand. "can't wait to decide which side i'm on."

"there's sides?" you ask nervously.

"yep," he says with a pop on the p. "hongjoong and seonghwa worship the ground you walk on. san hates your guts, although i'm not sure why. you seem lovely."

"she is lovely," jen points out.

"hm," wooyoung squints playfully. "guess we'll have to wait and see."

"what about innocent until proven guilty?" you ask. "just assume you'll like me and then you will!"

"yeah, but san is a good judge of character," wooyoung shakes his head. "if he doesn't like you, then he's got a reason."

"is the reason because he's maleficent?"

"oo, maleficent, i like that," wooyoung coos. he turns to jen and asks, "why don't you use big words like that?"

"i'm afraid you wouldn't get them," she sighs.

"try me, i'm full of surprises baby," he winks at her before smacking her ass and walking away. you watch in confusion, and she waves it off.

"don't worry, he does that sometimes."

"to everybody?!"

"just to me," she shrugs, and then it clicks.

"he's your fling," you smile. "very nice."

"nuh uh."

"no, he totally is. that's elmo," you piece it together. "is that his nickname because of his laugh?"

"you were never supposed to meet him," jen defends herself.

"so getting me a job here wouldn't interfere with that?"

"i figured i could keep it a secret," she pouts.

"you did! for a whopping 36 hours, good job!"

"don't patronize me," she complains. "i could call san and have him here in seconds-"

"oh man, i need to go record something," you frown, "maybe you two could talk though? figure out why he's got an all burning hatred for me, an angel?"

"i'll get to the bottom of it," jen says, and you realize the error you've just made.

"wait, no, don't talk to him, please," you beg.

"too late, you've asked for my help, so i'll help," jen concedes easily. "he'll either love you or simply tolerate you by the end of the week, i promise."

"great, thanks..."

-

you've made it through your first week, yippee! you really like it here, you fit in well with the members, and the producers seem to really like your ideas. the only problem is san. you enter a room that he's in and it goes quiet. he passes you in the hall, and you're fuming for the rest of the day. everyone knows about your little rivalry at this point, but no one understands where it came from. even jen, who was determined to make you and san best friends, has lost hope.

you're able to make it a couple days without any more san run ins, and for that you are grateful. you and hongjoong have made a lot of progress on the vocal line track, and he's invited you to a few writing sessions with mingi for the rap line track. you're feeling invincible after one of those sessions, walking back to your studio, when you get the scare of your life. you enter the code to your studio, guard completely down, and jump out of your skin when you see someone sitting at your desk.

"what the fuck?!" you shriek, using the door as a shield. you peek around it and see that it's not an intruder. well, at least not one that wants to hurt you. maybe. it's san, so this interaction could go in any direction.

"hello," he says simply. "nice way to greet your guest."

"how'd you get into my studio?" you ask as you close the door. you wonder if you should keep it cracked open, just in case you and san get into it and you need a witness that he probably started it.

"i needed to ask you a question," san responds instead, and you cock your head in confusion. "i can't do that?"

"i don't know, can you?"

"your song. the vocal one. how's it going?"

you're surprised this is what he wanted to talk about but, honestly, what else were you expecting? this is a normal work interaction, you think. you're just not used to having those with san. since san is sitting in your desk chair, you pull your stool over to the desk pathetically and perch on top of it as you shoot san a glare.

"can you move over? i need to get to my keyboard."

"aw, can't reach over my muscles?" san teases, and you feel your blood run cold.

"what?"

"my muscles? little birdie told me you liked them."

"what are you doing in my studio, san."

"i wanted to hear your song," he shrugs. you wait for him to move out of the way, but apparently that's not happening. you grumble as you lean over him and type, pulling the project file up on your screen. you check the volume before you hit play and look back to see san watching you intently. he's close, your arms brushing and his head only a few inches from yours. you hold his gaze for a second and then hit play, sitting back as you watch him listen. you can't read his expression as the song plays, but you don't care what he has to say. you love this song, and you think it's turning out great. whatever he has to say isn't important to you-

"wow," he whistles. "i get it now."

"get what?"

"why you're so pretentious about your work," san smirks as he side eyes you.

"is that supposed to be an insult?" you ask, trying to gauge his reaction.

"not really," he shakes his head.

"well it's not a compliment," you tell him.

"i'll work on that," he says as he stands. he puts his hands on your desk to support himself as he rises, and you swear to god, he's flexing his arms a ridiculous amount. nobody needs that much upper body strength just to get out of a rolley chair.

"hey!" you call as he walks away. "what the hell?"

"do you have to curse all the time?" san asks with look of distaste. "it's not very polite."

"nor are you."

"nice," he nods. "well, i'll be around-"

"no, wait, why'd you come in here?" you ask as you follow him out of your studio. "you just wanted to listen to the song?"

"yeah?" he shrugs, turning to face you in the hallway. he's standing so close you have to lean back to look at him properly, and you frown.

"i don't believe you."

"why not?" san smirks. "you wanted me in your studio for another reason?"

"no-"

"you're not the only one who likes to stare, doll," he says quietly, leaning down so his ears are just barely brushing your ear. he straightens back up before you can melt into a puddle on the floor, and then he smiles what might be his first genuine smile in your presence. "so maybe i didn't just come here for the song. but now i've heard it, and i know don't hate it, so i think we're done here."

and with that very confusing information, san walks away.

-

san is tired. he's been practicing for their seoul concert since the early hours of the morning, and he needs a break. it's almost an acceptable time to eat lunch, so he grabs his things and starts the short walk to his favorite convenience store. he likes this one because it's got a seating area in the back where he can eat, giving him some time to himself. it's secluded enough he doesn't have to worry about being bothered, but it has a good view of the street outside so he can people watch. it's the perfect spot for him to rest and enjoy his food, so he leaves the company with a pep in his step.

he grabs all of his favorites, moving on autopilot, and pays for them quickly. he takes everything back to his usual table and prepares his feast. now that he's stopped working, he feels the tiredness in his bones and realizes how hungry he actually was. when did he eat last? was it dinner? that was more than twelve hours ago, so maybe he can get away with eating another ramen before he goes...

san is considering whether or not he should get up and grab more food as he stares through the store window. there's people rushing to work, couples going to lunch, families wrangling kids. he watches with a smile as one family, a mother and father, try to handle what looks like a girl and two twins. that job is way harder than anything he's doing as an idol, he thinks. he watches fondly as they walk away, and when he turns back, his smile falls.

you and hongjoong are crossing the street, engaged in some conversation that's making you both laugh. you make a joke that sends a laugh crashing up from within hongjoong's chest, and san scoffs as he watches you stare in admiration. hongjoong rushes forward and opens the door to the convenience store for you, and san hears the end of your sentence as you enter.

"-didn't have to do that," san catches, and he hears hongjoong make a dismissive sound in response. "wow, there's a lot of food here."

"you see why we like this place so much," hongjoong responds. san can't see you, but your voices are getting closer. "there's something for everyone."

"there's so much, i don't know what to pick..." you trail off.

"get whatever you want," hongjoong says. "it's on me."

"what? no-"

"ah ah, no arguments. consider it a welcome gift."

"well thank you," san hears you squeak, and he can just imagine the way you must be blushing, looking at hongjoong so shyly, pretending to be coy-

"oh, hey san," hongjoong greets. you come to a stop behind him, bumping into his back, and san has to laugh. "didn't know you were here."

"didn't tell anyone i was leaving," san shrugs. he leans over, trying to catch your eye, and waves. "hi y/n."

"hi san."

"are you eating here?" san asks, and hongjoong shakes his head.

"ah, no, we were just taking a break," he replies. "i was going to buy us lunch and then we're gonna head back."

"got it," san nods, still looking at you. "carry on then."

"thanks for your permission," you mumble, holding onto the back of hongjoong's shirt as he turns you down another aisle. he starts looking for a snack he wants you try, but he can't see it. he looks up, eyes flitting around the store, and his face lights up.

"oh! it's over there! be right back!" he runs off, and you continue scanning the shelves. you're not that hungry, but you know you won't have time to leave again, so you need to get enough food for lunch and dinner probably. you're reading the ingredients on one of the prepackaged meals when you feel a presence behind you. turning, you see san looming above, and you jump.

"shit," you hiss. "wear a bell."

"need help pronouncing the big words?" he asks.

"yeah, come closer and let me show you."

"you having fun?" san sneers, and your confused expression makes him clarify, "with your boyfriend."

"what?"

"oh come on, letting him buy your lunch, holding onto him like that...you're eating it up, aren't you?"

"i don't know what you mean," you say as you step around san, but your face is red. he's getting to you.

"it's cute, really," he says, beating you to the end of the aisle. he puts his arm out, effectively blocking your way, and he continues staring down at you in that frustrating way of his. like he wants to swallow you whole. "how long do you think it'll last?"

"if you're asking about my patience i'm afraid that ship sailed a while ago," you try to fight back, but san just laughs.

"you're cute, you know? you try to be so tough, but it doesn't work. i see right through you."

"and what do you see?" you ask as you cross your arms. san bares his teeth, ready to quip back, but his eyes catch on something behind you. you look over your shoulder and see hongjoong holding up a bag, a confused look in his eyes.

"found the sweet potatoes," he says as he approaches. "what are you doing?"

"getting to know our coworker," san says nonchalantly, removing himself from your personal space. "i'll let you go. my food's getting cold."

"sure," hongjoong says skeptically, reaching for you. he tries to guide you away with his hand at your back, but you can feel san's eyes still on you. you turn and his hand politely falls away, but san's eyes follow you through the rest of the store. he gets an idea when you go back to the drink coolers, so san finishes his food quickly and heads to the front.

when you and hongjoong are finally ready to pay, you go to the register and hongjoong reaches for his wallet. the woman behind the counter shakes her head, showing a stack of bills to tell you it's been taken care of. you look around and find san halfway out the door, a wicked smile on his face. he waves at you teasingly before the door dings closed, and hongoong happily takes the food, babbling about how nice san is as you leave.

-

later that day, the boys are getting fitted for their tour outfits. each practice room has been converted into a walk in closet + vanity combo, so you peek your head in to see how it's going. jen spots you and waves you over to her station, and you duck through the racks of clothes to say hi to your friend. you're taken aback when you see who she's working on, but jen laughs and assures you it's ok.

"he won't bite, he's asleep," she says about the pouting san she's working on currently. "he was here all night, apparently. he knocked out before i could even say hi."

"are you sure he's asleep and not faking it?" you ask as you tentatively sit in the chair next to him. it's enough distance away that you're not concerned by the proximity, but you keep an eye on him as you talk. "maybe he doesn't want to talk."

"hey, san likes me, so i know he's not faking it," jen tells you. "he and i get along really well."

"congratulations," you mumble as you reach for a makeup brush to play with. "so how was your day?"

you and jen catch up as she works on san, periodically asking for your opinion on the look she's created for him. you know she's trying to get you to say something nice about him, to slip up and call him handsome or sexy, but you won't budge. all the compliments you give are very makeup forward, but she won't let up. she's also not being gentle in her application, so you really are afraid san is awake and listening. she's almost done with him when wooyoung walks up, greeting you happily.

"hey y/n!" he chirps. "nice to see you! you're in my seat."

"oh, my bad," you scramble to get up. you got comfortable, your feet propped on one of the giant makeup cases before you. jen puts a hand out to stop you, turning to wooyoung with a trying-to-be-stern look in her eyes.

"my friend and i are not done talking."

"well your boss told me to come over here and get my makeup done, so unless you want me to stand..." wooyoung trails off as jen finishes with san's face. she turns to him and nods.

"standing is fine," she says, quickly getting to work on wooyoung's base layer. "i'll work fast so you don't have to stand long."

"but then i don't get to bug you as long," wooyoung whines.

"life's cruel like that, huh?"

"come on, i know i'm your favorite part of this job," wooyoung teases, and you share a silent laugh with him as jen blushes profusely. once wooyoung catches your eye, his attention turns to you, and he asks, "what about you, y/n? now that you've been here a few days, what's your favorite part of this job?"

"san's abs," jen answers for you, and you try your best to kick her. you accidentally nudge san's chair and freeze, but he doesn't stir.

"oh yeah? let's tell him-"

"no!" you shout, and if he wasn't awake now he definitely is. he still doesn't move, but you continue in a softer voice, "um, no. don't do that. uhh, my favorite part of the job...i don't wanna be a kiss ass, but it's probably working with hongjoong."

"of course it is," san mumbles, and even though he spoke quietly it makes you jump. he opens his eyes and your skin sets fire as soon as he looks at you. "you're in wooyoung's chair."

"he's having jen time," you counter. "let him enjoy it."

"yeah, let me enjoy it!" wooyoung agrees.

"san, what do you think of the eye makeup i did? tried something new," jen says as she focuses on wooyoung's eyes now. san sits up and looks in the mirror, but he's not looking at himself. he's watching you pretend like a strand on your sweater is the most interesting thing in the world, so he decides to call your attention.

"y/n? what do you think?" san asks, and you meet his gaze through the mirror. you're shocked to realize he's checking you out, blatantly, your cardigan falling off your shoulder to reveal your bra underneath. you were in a rush this morning and thought that would be enough. surely no one would notice you weren't wearing a tank, since this bra could pass as long as your sweater stayed up. but right now it's not, so san can see an entire cup, and he's almost drooling. instead of answering his question you look over at jen and repeat your earlier compliments as you pull your sweater tight around your torso.

"yeah, it looks good," you say again. "now that he's awake and you can see his eyes, you did a good job, uh, highlighting them."

"eloquent," san chides, and this time you intentionally kick his chair. he grabs your ankle before you can pull back, and tugs, bringing you closer.

"big word," wooyoung whispers, and you can hear jen smack him as you lift your eyes to san's. he's looking at you with that hungry gaze you're coming to get used to, and he rewords his question.

"what do you like about it specifically?" he tries as he leans in, and you hold your breath as you stare. this is closer than you've ever been, and you can smell hints of cologne that have your head spinning. alarms are going off in your head to run, but with san's hand still on your leg, you're trapped.

"you drool in your sleep, you know that?" you decide to say, ignoring his question completely. he's surprised enough that his grip on you loosens and you're able to bolt from the chair, grabbing your things as you say a quick goodbye to jen and wooyoung. they're watching on, amused with your little show, and when you're fully out of the room san collapses back into the chair with a groan.

"she's right," jen says. "i had to get napkins to mop up your spit."

"sorry," san grumbles.

"when are you gonna tell her?" wooyoung asks, and san makes a confused sound to encourage him to explain. "y/n. when are you gonna say that you're into her?"

"i'm not into her," san rolls his eyes.

"yeah, right," wooyoung laughs. "and me and jen aren't fucking."

"hey!" and another smack. they continue bickering as san stares at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes falling to the chair you just occupied.

-

the next few days, you spend a lot of time in your studio. too much maybe, but you need to get this vocal track finished. all the boys have recorded their parts, and now it's down to you to get the final mix to the other producers by monday. it's friday now, and you know you can't pull any all nighters this weekend - the boys want you to come to their shows, so you'd like to be finished with the track before you leave today.

it's weird, being here so late at night. you think you're the last one left, hongjoong left with the rest of the members and the producers started trickling out about two hours ago. you don't mind being here on your own, you know the security is fine, but it's still eerie. when you got another coffee just now, you caught yourself jumping at the slightest sounds. you could've sworn you heard footsteps following you, but after investigating you realized it was the sound of your own that scared you. you hunker down for another spell in your studio, and you get a lot closer to the product you want. hongjoong kept telling you it didn't need to be perfect, it still had to go through critiques so it would probably change a lot, but you can't let your first project here be a mess. it at least needs to meet your standards, so you keep working.

you're not sure how much later it is, but you wake yourself when your head falls off your propped up arm. you fell asleep listening to the final track, wanting to check for any mistakes, so you don't know how long it's been looping while you slept. you listen through one last time, almost satisfied, but you hear something that sounds off. you try another listen, and realize it's not coming from your speakers, it's coming from somewhere else.

heart racing, you press your ear to the door of your studio and curse the sound proofing. you can make out a noise, but not enough to figure out what it is from the safety of this room. you look around for a weapon, something to protect you, and all you see are stray wires. you find one long enough and wrap it around your fists, pulling the wire taught between them. worst case scenario you garrote the intruder and then call for help, but you're being dramatic. whatever is out there can't be a threat, can it?

you open your studio door and follow the sound. in your tired state, you recognize a song, but you can't place it or where it's coming from. you tiptoe down the hall toward the practice rooms, and spy light coming from a door at the end of the hall. so it must be one of the members, you think. or maybe the bb trippin guys came early to prep for the show. whatever it is, you keep walking, aware now that the song you heard is wake up, one of your favorites. the boys were cryptic about the setlist, wanting it to be a surprise for you this weekend, but you get excited at the thought of what kind of mystical performance they could do for this song. when you reach the door, you stop cold, seeing maybe the last person you expected it to be.

san is dancing, quite sexually, to the music bumping through the speakers. he's in baggy sweats and a tank top that shows off his figure and his ridiculously chiseled muscles, and you can't help it. you stare, watching in awe as he drops it low and grinds around to a song you never expected to be portrayed like this. as he's on the ground, a tie hanging from his teeth, his eyes flick to yours through the mirror. you gasp, and he smirks, somehow able to catch the sound of your breath hitching over the loud music. he feels proud of himself, knowing he's got you so shocked, but when he finishes the portion he's working on, he looks to the mirror and you're gone.

you're rushing down the hall back to your studio. what the fuck was that. you had a physical reaction to san, and not a good one. and he saw you! that's humiliating, you'll never be able to look at him again-

"where ya goin doll?" his deep voice asks. he's right behind you, and before you can sprint off to your studio, he grabs your shoulders and pushes you against the nearest door. when you come face to face, he's breathing heavy, and you assume that's because of the intense choreography he just worked through. little do you know, being this close to you, smelling that annoying perfume that follows you around, touching you, all of this is taking his breath away. his hands trail down your shoulders to your hands, and he looks at you quizzically when he finds the wire wrapped tightly in your fists. "what's this?"

"i, uh, i thought i was the only one here? so when i heard something i looked for uh. i wanted something to protect myself with," you explain, embarrassed by how dramatic that sounds.

"you're a badass," san chuckles, lifting your hands by the wire hanging between them.

"i thought cursing wasn't polite," you remind him of his own words, and he laughs again.

"i just said that to piss you off."

"you're insufferable," you groan, trying to twist away from the man in front of you.

"and you're in a bit of a pickle, aren't you?" he smiles at you evilly. "can't get away, little kitten?"

"let go of me, san," you say steadily, but he just keeps smiling.

"why would i? i've finally got you right where i want you."

"what?" you breathe out.

"you couldn't tell? i've wanted you since i laid eyes on you."

"wanted me?" you scoff. "i'm not a steak."

"but you went and spilled that coffee on me, and then you were so delightful during our recording session, i just kept falling harder and harder for you," he teases.

"you're shit at showing how you feel."

"and you're shit at hiding how you feel," he smirks. "i know you want me, doll. that's why i acted the way i did. it was fun messing with you, letting you think i hated you. wanted to see how far i could push it."

"that's so middle school of you san," you complain, pushing your finger into his chest. "if you were a real man you would've done something about this already instead of playing a bunch of games."

"if i was a real man?" he chuckles lowly, and he's so close you feel it in your stomach. "baby, you haven't been with a real man til you've been with me."

"prove it," you whisper, but your breath gets caught as san pulls your hands above your head by the wire still wrapped around them. he holds your wrists in place as his other hand squeezes your waist, and he watches you squirm with glee in his eyes.

"prove it? you sure you can handle me doll?"

"do your your worst," you smirk, and then he's crashing his lips to yours. the kiss is fierce, all teeth and tongue, and you gasp as his hand travels up your waist and beneath your shirt. he traces the skin beneath your hoodie, smirking into your lips when he discovers you're not wearing a bra.

"i like it when you make things easy for me," he breathes out against your neck, his lips making their way across your skin and leaving little marks as he pleases. his hand beneath your shirt traces beneath each breast before leaving a featherlight trail to your nipple, and he surprises you with a quick pinch. you gasp again, giving him a chance to return his lips to your mouth and press his tongue past your lips. he kisses you one last time before pulling from your lips, asking, "should we take this inside?"

"wha?" you murmur, twisting to look at the door behind you. "but, san, this isn't my studio-"

"i know, it's hongjoong's," he says as he punches the code in. "he won't mind."

"i do!" you squeak out as san opens the door and pushes you inside. "san, seriously, we're not having sex in here!"

"we're having sex?" san teases, and you use your newly released hands to beat against his chest. "take that stupid wire off, baby. you're gonna need your hands."

"for what?" you grumble, listening to him anyway. when your hands are free, you notice the little indents left from the wire, and san surprises you by taking your hands into his softly. his thumb rubs over the raw skin, and he stares darkly at you as he lifts your hands to his lips. he kisses over the sore spots and up your wrists, whining cutely when he hits the fabric of your shirt.

"take this off," he tugs on your sleeve, and you shake your head.

"only if you take your shirt off too," you counter, and he easily lets go of you to remove his tank top. you hate the way you're staring, but you can't help it. he's beautiful, and you're mesmerized. he calls your name, the first time he's said it all night, and you find his eyes staring at you softly. "right, sorry," you mumble, pulling your hoodie off, not so accidentally catching it on your tits so they release with a bounce. san groans as he watches on, and then his hands are on you again, cupping your tits and teasing your nipples. you moan softly, reaching for his head to pull him into another kiss. your hands wrap around to his neck, one sweeping down to feel his soft, sweaty skin. you trace over the muscles in his chest, the lines of his abs, and end at his waistband. his hand reaches down to stop you before you can continue, and he pulls back to ask, "do you trust me?"

"do i trust you? not completely," you answer honestly. "maybe you don't hate me as much as you made me believe, but i still think you're despicable."

"if i'm so despicable why are you letting me use you like a toy?" he jokes, pushing you down into hongjoong's desk chair. "if you trust me, i want you to do something for me. if you don't, tell me to shut up, and we'll go back to having sex. but it'll be more boring that way."

"can i get that in writing, you saying that sex with you is boring?" you tease, and san growls as he captures your lips in another kiss. he's caging you in, and when he releases your lips, he leans his forehead against yours as he speaks.

"start a new file on his computer," san says lowly. "and hit record when i say."

"you're kidding."

"like i said, do it if you trust me," he shrugs, his hands moving from the armrests to your waist. he starts tugging your pants down as he continues. "if you don't trust me, then we just fuck like normal and go on with our lives."

"san, i-"

"are you gonna make the file?" he asks, kneeling in front of you. you open and close your mouth like a fish, but then you're moving without thinking. you twist in his hold, punching in hongjoong's password and finding the mixing app. you start a new project, label it inconspicuously, and then settle back in the chair. san is looking at you proudly, and he praises you, "good girl."

"what now?" you ask quietly, and san separates your legs further. he starts kissing up your leg, starting at your knee, and when he gets to your panties, he whispers, "i make you come."

he pulls yours panties down then, hissing as he watches your arousal cling to the fabric, and he smiles. "oh, she's pretty."

"i didn't know you were capable of giving me a compliment," you quip, and san bites your thigh to shut you up.

"wasn't talking to you," he says against your skin, leaving kisses along the inside of your thigh until he reaches your core. he brings his hands up to spread you open for him, and he stares in admiration at how wet you are, just for him. he leans in and you wait to feel his lips, his tongue, something, but instead you feel something wet land on your clit. san spit on your pussy, and he brings his hand up to rub the sensitive spot as he blows on your entrance.

"i thought you said you were gonna make me come," you whine, and he nods.

"i will. when i want to."

"san-" you whimper, lifting your hips as he continues playing with your clit and neglecting the rest of you.

"you want more doll?" he asks, his eyes staring at you darkly. you look down at him and nod, but he pinches your thigh in response. "words, baby."

"want more, san," you groan. "need your tongue."

"hit record and i'll give you what you want," he smirks below you, and you're so horny you can't even think about fighting back. you turn around and press record, san's lips finding your clit immediately. he licks over the bundle of nerves, prodding a finger at your entrance as he listens to your sweet moans. he fucks his finger into you once, twice, then adds another. you whine above him, your hands catching on his hair as you try to push him closer. he licks up every drop of you, fucking you on his fingers, and moans into your pussy for good measure. the vibration seends you reeling, and you whisper out, "fuck, san."

"who?"

"san, fuck! feels so good."

"yeah? you wanna come?" he asks, leaning his head on your thigh as he stares at you writhing above him. you're watching him with hooded eyes as he adds another finger, fucking you open for him. you lift your hips again, trying to make him move faster. "d'you still hate me, doll?"

"no," you whisper shyly, and he smiles.

"say it louder."

"i don't hate you," you moan out, his fingers scissoring you open as his lips return to your clit. he sucks harshly, and you let out a whine that turns into a frustrated scream. "faster."

"hm?"

"faster, please," you beg, "please, please, fuck. 'm gonna come."

"let me hear you, baby," he mumbles into your core. "who's making you feel so good?"

"san, you, fuck-" your voice tapers off as you hold your breath and crash into your release. you're clenching around san so deliciously, he groans into your clit and does his best to help you ride out your high. you're trying to catch your breath as. san cleans you up, slurping obscenely, and in your post-nut clarity you realize what you've done. you turn around, frantically trying to stop the recording, but san stands above you and catches your hands again.

"what are you doing?" he growls, and you blubber out a response.

"he can't, we can't, i have to delete it, i'm not-"

"not what? not enjoying yourself?" san asks. "because i'm looking at a dripping pussy that tells a different story."

"we need to go somewhere else," you hiss, and san shakes his head.

"i think we're doing fine right here," he smirks, kissing you deeply so you can taste yourself on his tongue. you bite his bottom lip as he tries to pull away, and he groans.

"is it my turn now?" you ask, and you watch fire spark across san's eyes.

"your turn to what, baby?"

"drive you insane?" you ask innocently, pushing san away so you can stand. you keep pushing him until he hits the wall, and you drop to your knees. you waste no time pulling his pants down, revealing his lack of underwear. you look up at him and ask, "you makin things easy for me, babe?"

"no," he smirks down at you. "bet you can't even fit it in your mouth."

"you're full of yourself," you point out as you spit into your hand. you bring it to his cock, stroking over his soft skin. "you liked eating me out this much?"

"it wasn't bad," san nods. "wouldn't mind doing it again."

"maybe later," you mumble, bringing his tip to your lips. you spit again, watching as it dribbles down his shaft, you stroke him a few more times, flicking your tongue over his tip teasingly. he's trying so hard not to lose it above you, and the way he's biting his lip to keep quiet pisses you off. without warning, you swallow him whole, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you try to fit him all in your mouth. he cries out above you, his hands tangling in your hair. he pulls you off of him completely, gasping for breath above you. "hey. i wasn't done."

"not gonna last," he says shyly, and you feel your ego grow ten sizes. "need to fuck you."

"eh, i'm getting tired-"

"shut up," he growls, pulling you up by your hair and slamming his lips into yours again. "go bend over his desk."

"you're sick," you tell him, obeying anyway.

"you're into it," san says cockily, adjusting your hips as he comes up behind you. "make sure you're right up to the mic, doll. wanna hear this." you hate yourself for it, but you find the mic in front of you and pull it closer. you feel his hands on your ass, pulling you apart as he stares at your pussy again. "so pretty for me," he sighs, removing a hand to bring his cock to your entrance. he teases your hole a few times, laughing when you jerk back and try to catch his tip. "impatient girl."

"just fuck me," you say clearly, and he responds by giving you exactly what you want. he thrusts into you, splitting you open, and you moan so loud it's embarrassing. san stays still, giving you a minute to adjust, but you start fucking back into him, and he gets the hint. he grabs onto your ass again, and then he's fucking into with no control. your mouth hangs open as he fucks you hard and fast, and san frowns. he smacks your ass and feels you clench around him as he barks, "lemme hear you." so you moan, and whine, and altogether let go. you're a babbling mess, mumbling incoherently about how good it feels, how he fucks you just right, how his cock is perfect, you can't stop. san is eating it up, fucking into you so deep you can feel him in your gut.

too soon, he's pulling out, and you let out a pathetic cry. san pulls you up by your hips, his hands smoothing over your skin, as he explains, "wanna watch you when you come." he helps you sit on hongjoong's desk, lifting your legs up so you're completely exposed to him. he holds your thighs open and tries to fuck back into you, but you have to help him, taking his wet cock and guiding it back to your entrance. he thrusts into you, slotting his hips against yours, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. he should've fucked you like this the whole time, he thinks, because he can't stop staring. you look so perfect, so blissed out, and it spurs him on. he holds one thigh down as his other hand wraps around your waist, holding you in place as he fucks you.

"i'm gonna come, baby," he warns. "where do you want it?"

"my stomach," you gasp out. "wanna see it."

"fuck, you're insane."

"don't slow down," you whine, holding onto san's broad shoulders like your life depends on it. you let him fuck you senseless, clenching around him as you get closer. he brings his hand around to rub his thumb over your clit, and you jerk away in sensitivity. "can't take it, san, gonna come-"

"then come for me," he begs. "need you to come first."

"fuck, san, fuck," you gasp, digging into his shoulders as you hold him in place. you clench around him until he can't take it anymore, and he pulls out, his forehead against yours as you watch him stroke himself. he comes quickly, painting your skin, and you moan breathlessly as you watch him empty himself over you. "fuck, that's hot."

"we should do that again," san smirks at you, and you playfully push against his chest. you leave your hands on him as you respond, "not now. i'm exhausted."

"how long have you been here?" san asks, sudden concern in his voice.

"too long," you sigh, noticing how raw your throat feels. you cough, your back bumping into the mic behind you. "oh shit. i need to turn this off." you look at san as you crouch down, saving the file and sending it to yourself. "what the hell am i supposed to do with this?"

"listen to it when you get lonely?" san jokes, and you push him. "use it in a song, maybe?"

"that would get me fired," you inform him, making sure you've deleted all traces of it from hongjoong's computer. satisfied, you turn to san and cross your arms over your chest. "was this your plan all along? you get me to record a salacious audio and then blackmail me with it?"

"you still think i hate you?" he asks, brushing your hair behind your ear. "bummer. thought we'd moved past that after your first orgasm."

"i'm just saying, if this was an elaborate plan to get me to leave, i commend the effort-"

"y/n," he says softly, and you meet his eyes. they're serious for once, which is odd. "i don't hate you, and i don't want to get you fired."

"good to know," you squeak. his gaze is too intense for you, so you start looking for your clothes and then remember the mess on your stomach. "oh, yuck-"

"here, let me clean you up," san says, searching for tissues. he holds onto you carefully as he wipes up his release, pulling a few extra tissues to clean the mess between your legs.

"see, if you'd just let me help you like this on my first day, we wouldn't have been mortal enemies for so long," you joke.

"yeah, but we wouldn't have fucked like that if i had been nice to you from the start."

"so what now?" you ask as you get dressed. "you said you wanna do that again?"

"don't you?" san asks, his pants halfway up his legs. you unashamedly stare at his cock before you respond, but he's got his answer.

"i mean, if you want-"

"i do," he interjects. "whenever you want me. i'll be there."

"is this what everyone means, when they say you're so nice?" you ask genuinely. san comes over to you, wrapping his hands around your waist before he kisses you.

"guess you'll have to find out, huh?"

[hwallazia]

SIREN – 최산

synopsis . in which too many words aren’t needed to get laid with your dream man.

pairing . choi san & fem!reader

genre . smut (mdni!), strangers to lovers ??? (or smth like that), tooth rotting fluff at the end (ofc, it wouldn’t be a hwallazia work otherwise), non idol!au

taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle @vampzity @iykyunho | apply to join my taglist ♡

word count . 4,1k

DISCLAIMER! sub!san (in the beginning he acts all tough but he’s just a shy man who needs to be taken care of), dom!reader, unprotected sex (wrap before tap fellas), dirty talk, lots of teasing (reader taunts our poor needy sannie way too much), dacryphilia?, overstimulation, cowgirl position, blowjob, dry humping?, begging oh so much begging, creampie, squirting, petnames (sannie, baby, love, darling & more), softest!dom san at the end ((⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠))

NIC’S NOTES this is totally inspired in bruno mars & cardi b’s “please me” music video (song rec for the fic ofc!). firstly, i thought of writing this for yunho, but the idea of submissive san is just... *sighs* makes me go feral. i have no more words. so well, i hope you enjoy reading.. whatever this is <3

laughter echoing, heels clicking against the ground, and jewelry shining with the intermittent city lights. the night out with your girls was a total success, with a couple of boys dripping over themselves from just the look of your slim, god-sculpted figures and playful, perfect grins, teeth white as pearls. of course, a few sluts jealous of all the attention you and your crew were receiving —you think that one of the boys who asked for your number was some plastic blondie’s boyfriend. saying that you felt absolutely unreachable was an understatement, your red lipstick sticking perfectly to your desirable lips, your not-so-covering outfit fitting your body just right and your siren-like eyes making the legs of every man you ever landed your gaze quivering in anticipation. the effect you had was supernatural and the smooth masculine attention made your stomach jump in excitement and narcissism, your mind clouded by a god-complex fog.

even though some of the men who approached you with clear second intentions were hot and you’d understand if he had a queue of girls who wanted to get laid with him, you didn’t find any of them good enough for you. it’d be just a one-night thing but still, you wanted to look for a man that made your heart flutter just with the sight of him. unfortunately, that didn’t happen in the club, so you and your girls retired once the clock hit 4.

you all were still too hyped and too beautiful to go to your houses, so you decided to go to a taco place since your friend, mia, was craving some good tacos. with a fifteen-minute walk, you got to the restaurant. as your friends kept laughing loudly over something you wouldn’t understand even if you were sober, you pushed the door open, the bell above it making an annoying sound for your intoxicated brain. you analyzed the place: cookers doing their thing behind the counter, being the ones to blame for the fire coming from pans and the toe-curling smell of meat and fried condiments; a lovey-dovey couple sitting in the table of the corner, way too far from your location; and a few tables full of people of all ages. but there was this one table that your group couldn’t help but watch intently: four gentlemen talking about god knows what and drinking their “corona” brand beers occasionally. one of them noticed how his intense and siren-like gaze was above them, his legs sloppily kicking their friends under the table.

“ow! wooyoung what was that f—” the tall, bulky-figured man called san whined before he turned around and saw you and your group still standing right next to the entrance. holy fuck, he immediately thought. he had never seen a woman as flawless as you, your curves making his hands itch from the solely and uncontrollable desire of touching them. he licked his lips in anticipation.

“fuck, look at that girl.” who kicked his leg, wooyoung, expressed out of breath the moment his eyes landed on your friend, hana. heat suddenly running up his neck and ears, the same happening to the tallest of them, yunho, when he fixated his black orbs on hana’s sibling, yoona. “finest woman i’ve ever seen.”

“same here.” the second tallest sitting at the table, mingi, agreed as well as he analyzed mia’s figure; his bottom lip caught between his perfect white row of teeth, eyes telling not very biblical tales.

“i think i got hard,” wooyoung said and lowered his head to meet his non-erected crotch, earning a slightly harsh fist landing on the side of his shoulder, courtesy of yunho.

“how old are you, man? really” san spoke hypocritically. his dirty mind was playing the same or worse scenarios wooyoung’s had been thinking of with hana but with you. he was already picturing you naked, bent over his kitchen counter, your notorious plump ass completely under his mercy, drawing all the faces you could possibly make as his cock rammed roughly inside you, the flesh of your ass bouncing every time his hips met yours. even though he hasn’t heard your voice yet, he can imagine the divine, cute moans you would mutter with his cock still pistoning against your wet and incredibly tight—

“san? you good, man?” mingi swung his hand right in front of his reddened face, a laugh coming from his friends the moment he slightly shook his head, waggling the sinful thoughts away.

“someone was fantasizing” wooyoung teased in a singsong tone, mingi and yunho chuckling as well.

“hell. we gotta take those ladies home.” san uttered rapidly before his mind could process his thoughts. the men’s eyes fixated on your group, which was already sitting at a table near them, mia and hana enjoying two tacos each while you and yoona kept drinking a cocktail. they didn’t know what you and your friends were laughing about, but they desperately wished they could be part of the conversation. and they would.

“okay. fellas,” wooyoung started, his friends turning their heads. “follow me and my charm.”

san, mingi, and yunho sighed in unison. they didn’t know when the day would come when they would put up with at least half of the narcissism of their friend who was standing up, by the way, drawing hana’s attention, who had been watching him since he entered that restaurant. he made his way to your table, the rest of his friends following his steps like a toddler looking up to his older brother. although the boys would never have wooyoung as a role model.

“well hello ladies,” he pulled out the most charming, gravel-like voice he could, his friends choking a laugh since they perfectly knew that wooyoung was overdoing it. but if it gets them the results they’re expecting then they’d let him be. “do y’all mind us sitting here?”

the eight of you weren’t stupid, you knew what you wanted. and you and your girls, especially, were desperate for those men’s attention. dancing and twerking over completely random strangers just to get their cocks hard and leave was exhausting and unproductive since none of them were good enough for y’all. so the four of you didn’t waste another second and stood up from their places, each of you approaching your desired man: yoona with yunho, mingi with mia, wooyoung with hana, and you with san.

you grabbed his wrist, guiding him to a different table, far from your and his friends’ location, your unfinished drink left on the table. you sat first and san did the same thing, making himself a place next to you, his gaze locked with yours still without saying a word. you both just let your eyes talk for you, a fire ignited inside san’s dark orbs.

you both turned your heads to the exit door the moment you heard the ringing of a bell, wooyoung and mia disappearing behind it. before he could totally abandon the place, he looked at san and gave him a thumbs up holding a champion grin drawn on his face. once the door clicked shut, san chuckled deeply, your skin trembling just from the sound of it.

“hah, wooyoung really knows how to play.” he exhaled looking down for a bit but not doubting a slight second to return his eyes to yours, your absurdly captivating eyes.

“oh so wooyoung is his name?” you asked, a hint of seduction hidden in your voice.

“yes, why’re you asking?” he replied hiding his nervousness in fake bravery. aren’t you interested in him? why’d you ask for his friend? his best friend?

“he’s cute.” you smiled as if it wasn’t a big deal.

san’s insides were hollering with your response. “cute?!” his desperate mind screamed. he cleared his throat for a second before responding what moments ago he thought he wouldn’t be able to answer. “then why’d you come up to me instead of him?”

his little jealous act made your heart tender. was he already jealous of you calling other men “cute” when he doesn’t even know your name? adorable.

“’cause you’re cuter,” you said leaning close enough to him to pinch the tip of his nose, you didn’t miss the little scrunch he did. oh, this man was going to be the death of you. you pulled away with a grin before continuing. “so...” you trailed off, expecting him to complete your words with his name, still unknown to you.

“san.”

“san,” you repeated in a velvety tone that made san’s ear and belly tingle. “where do you wanna take this?”

san’s nervousness was quickly replaced by all the thoughts he had earlier when he first saw you. now he was the one who smoothly bent his figure over yours, cornering you between the wall and his bulky body. “as far as you allow me” his honey-dripping, but still sinful voice rang inside your eardrums, making you want to hear it all night long.

you smirked at his complete willingness and couldn’t help but kiss his lips. san hummed in the kiss, feeling relieved since he had been wanting to devour you the moment he saw you come through that door. his excitement won over his conservative side so he acted accordingly, his right hand made its way up to your jaw to insert his hot, skillful tongue inside your cavity; a soft whine from you was heard. you didn’t want to wait for his other hand to grab your waist, so you straddle his lap, your tiny skirt lifting up consequently, almost revealing your lace panties. san, like the gentleman he is, let you settle comfortably on him before reaching your skirt and pulling it down, so it could at least cover the important parts.

you finally broke the intense, breath-taking kiss just to mutter right on his lips. “let’s get out of here, hm?”

a few minutes passed and you both were already abandoning the place, getting in san’s car. you had agreed to go to san’s place, and san was more than pleased to take a woman like you home. the ride to his apartment was full of lingering touches here and there that were more than just skin-to-skin contact. your hand caressed his thigh dangerously, your long nails faintly stroking his hardened bulge. the self-control that san had to not jerk his hips upwards was supernatural, and you found this very amusing and hot.

you straightened your back and leaned over him, one of your breasts touching his arm faintly, which was gripping the gear lever with all the strength he had. “you’re very good at keeping it cool. let’s see if you still can when i suck your cock.” you sentenced, finally stroking his tight crotch, the hiss coming from his lips only feeding your eagerness to keep touching him, apparently, the way he likes.

“ugh, please” the fact that he was driving prevented him from shutting his eyes and throwing his head back, the feeling being too good to be true. what were you doing to him? you didn’t even have your hand wrapped around his dick, so why was he already panting like a bitch in heat? “p-please, i can’t—ugh—”

“don’t tell me you’re gonna cum with just a couple of strokes?” your teasing tone made his body shiver even more, this action not going unnoticed by you. a smirk was drawn on your lips, the effect you had on this man was even hot for you.

“n-no, i’m not.. ’s just that—hmph!” you grasped his cock tightly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head in satisfaction.

“eyes on the road, sannie.” your velvet voice enveloped him even more in the cloud of your attracting effect. something inside san, warm and glowing at the praise, made his hanged-open mouth to let out the most precious mewl you’ve ever heard. you touched him three times more before releasing your grip on his cock, the silhouette of a slightly wet tent made your pussy clench.

“w-why’d you stop?” he whined at the loss of contact, his leg bouncing up and down in desperation.

you smiled, fingers brushing over the soft skin of san’s cheek. “let’s get home first, cutie.”

and he didn’t have to be told twice, his feet stepping harshly on the accelerator, your back hitting the car seat in consequence. “so desperate” you muttered under your breath, san being unable to hear your words.

finally, you made it to san’s place. he urgently rummaged through his pockets, looking for his apartment key. he inserted it on the lock and twisted it, opening the door. behind it, a dim-lighted, minimalistic, and quite spacious studio apartment was hidden, you entered before san did, looking all around you. “well uhm. this is my—mph!” he spoke while turning around to face you, but he was suddenly interrupted when you threw yourself at him to kiss him once again. you had become addicted to it on such short notice. you walked forward so he was walking backward, your eyes opening a little in the middle of the kiss to locate his bed. the moment you introduced your tongue inside his cavity, he knew it was over. he definitely wasn’t going to be the dominant one tonight. you guided him into his own bed, and when his calves hit its frame, he knew he could sit. you analyzed him before straddling his lap. god, san must’ve been sculpted by the heavens, all broad shoulders and chiseled muscles and a tapering waist that you had been a little obsessed with from the moment you landed your eyes on him.

you finally settled just fine on his lap, already making yourself a home in it. san instinctively grabbed a few handfuls of your ass before getting rid of your annoying top, your bra being the only piece of cloth attached to your body. but san was growing impatient, his lips desiring more than anything to suck your breasts. and fortunately, no words were needed since you could read him like a book. your hands reached your back and unhooked your bra in an instant, giggling at san’s excited mouth which didn’t waste much time before wrapping his lips around your nipples. hips stuttering at the feeling.

eventually, san included teeth and tongue to his ministrations, your back arching in response. “oh fuck, sannie. keep going,” you stroked his locks of hair and his nape tenderly. you continued speaking, “sucking a nameless woman’s tits. what does that have to say about you, darling?” you teased.

oh fuck you were right. you had asked him for his name, but he didn’t even bother, way too desperate for your body to even start with the formalities. he stopped his movements and unattached his lips from your nipple, it became erected when the cold air of the room passed through it, a shiver running down your spine. he stopped pleasuring you, but your hips were still rocking against his bulged cock, pants leaving his and your mouth. “i-i’m sorry. what’s—hah—your name?”

“yn, love.” you simply answered and brought your lips closer to the curvature of his ear, continuing your words in a faint whisper. “but you can call me whatever you want tonight” you tilted your head to the side and attached your lips to his neck, spreading sloppy kisses and licks all along it.

he was getting more and more excited as the minutes passed, which seemed to pass tortuously slowly. your bouncing hips placed significant pressure on his crotch, making his insides scream for relief. whines started to leave san’s mouth.

“a-ah, stop please.. it hurts” he pleaded with a broken voice, his aching cock begging for release. you stared at him from above, his sparkling eyes melting your heart.

“need something, baby?” your teasing tone was driving him over the edge. he didn’t want, he required your mouth on his cock. and now, otherwise, he’d explode.

“touch me, please” he whined. “i can’t take it.”

you were starting to feel sorry for the tightness you felt perfectly underneath you, but a small part of you wanted to keep messing with him for a bit longer. “but i am touching you, dear. need you to be more specific.”

he let out a shameless mewl at your words, closing his eyes for a second. suddenly, san on the verge of tears “just touch my cock! suck it, or fuck me. i don’t know, whatever you please but do something! please..”

a loving sigh left your lips as you caressed san’s cheek tenderly. “aw, baby. i’ll give you just what you want.”

you promised and complied. you moved off his thighs to get on your knees, shyness not being a feeling. the perfect fit of your figure between san’s toned legs made his cock twitch. your manicured hands trailed their way up to his pants, your fingers unbuckling his belt and pulling them down in a fast movement. you were desperate too, you had been craving his touch —and other prohibited things— all night. and finally your wish would come true.

you stroked his exposed member before running your tongue all over it, still not putting it explicitly in your mouth. his angry, reddened tip leaked drips of pre-cum, making it look like tiny pearls. you were impressed by the length and girth of it, the sight being completely mouth-watering. you didn’t make the poor man above you wait any longer, so you opened your mouth widely to finally dive in, enveloping his cock with your welcoming heat.

the sensation was overwhelming for san since his cock was sensitive from all the teasing you had done before. then he was forced to put all his weight on his arms which, located at his sides, tightly gripped the white sheets that would soon be soaked.

“oh my—fuck—” he choked out, sweat running down his temples.

your head bobbed up and down his length, what you couldn’t fit inside your mouth was being attended by your skillful hand. san’s high-pitched and breathy moans started to get louder when your nails caressed his balls gently while you took him all the way down, his cockhead hitting the back of your throat.

“close.. ugh, so fucking close” he exhaled, still grasping the sheets underneath him. because he couldn’t bring himself to touch, like you’re fragile, and everything will shatter if he does. even though he was the openly desperate one, he’d let you go at your own pace, politely petting your hair. “i—ah—i’m gonna cum, wait” he warned frantically and breathlessly, his hand pushing your shoulder gently, he didn’t want you to get dirty with his cum. such a gentleman even in a situation as lewd as that.

but you didn’t seem to care, way too immersed in his throbbing, addicting cock. you were committed to making his cum. and you did, a broken holler leaving san’s lip, swollen and red from biting them so harshly as your cavity was filled with hot spurts of his cum.

but that wasn’t enough for you. so you kept pumping his dick slowly as you got up, san’s hips jerking underneath you, shrieks coming from his mouth resonated across the room. after getting rid of your skirt, you resumed your initial position and placed your knees at his sides, his tired hands immediately resting on the outer sides of your thighs. you didn’t give him much time to recompose as you aligned his cock to your wet, unattended entrance.

“uh—wait yn, i just came. give me just a min—ahh!” he begged the moment he saw your body lower on his sensitive member. but it was too late, you had already pushed your panties aside and started bouncing up and down his length.

once again, the overwhelming sensation overcame san, and he surrendered, collapsing onto the mattress. a rush of coolness ran down his spine as the cold sheets met his sweat-drenched back, sending shivers through his entire body. you took advantage of his vulnerable position, resting your hands on his firm, plump chest. you began to bounce even harder, determined to milk every last drop of cum from his cock, feeling the tension build with each movement.

at that point, san was only blubbering nonsense underneath you, delirious, fucked out of his mind, his eyes glassy and lewd whines leaving his slick lips. “fuck—’s too much, too much, ahh!” he shamelessly moaned, not caring even a little bit about how loud he was. he’d probably lots of complaints from his neighbors. but he’d take care of that tomorrow, right now all he could this about was you and your wet, warm, and pulsating cunt squeezing his cock divinely.

“keep screaming for me, pretty boy” you expressed, unashamed as well. “make the whole building know who’s making you feel good.”

san whimpered even more loudly in response. “fuck—yn, please”

“who’s making you feel good?” you repeated just to get another couple of whispered ‘please’ as a response. but those weren’t the words you wanted to hear. “answer.”

your stern tone sent a warmer heat down his belly. “you, yn” he managed to respond but in a faint murmur. and still, that wasn’t what you were looking for. in consequence, you lifted your body up to only envelope his red tip with your walls and squeezed them on purpose, earning a loud, prolonged cry. “ah! yn, please!”

a smirk was drawn on his lips, satisfyingly going down him again. “please what, love?”

“make me cum! please, make me cum again” he mewled, a couple of tears streaming down his cheeks.

“isn’t that too greedy from you? you came not long ago.” you taunted him for the last time in the night.

“yes, i’m greedy! i just—ahh! i need to cum, pleasepleaseplease” he whimpered, repeating his prayers like a mantra.

you, enlightened by his begging, smiled sweetly and trapped his right nipple between your index and middle finger, playfully twisting them. “then cum, sannie. make a mess inside me.”

and those were the only words he needed, his cum even spilling out of your ravished cunt, mixed with your warm, clear juices. a sigh left your lips, your insides filled to the brim. “ahh, good boy, sannie. goood boy.” you trailed off your words as you fondled his cheeks, covered in sweat and tears.

your tired state made your body move faster than your mind could process and you laid down next to him. a few minutes of silence were necessary to stabilize your breathing and regain a normal body temperature. the cold night began to show its effects on each other’s skin, both suddenly feeling your hair stand on end.

“ooh” you uttered at the rushing cold breeze that ran through your legs up to your spine. “it’s cold.”

san didn’t say any words and just stretched his arm to reach the least dirty blanket and cover your bodies with it. he brought your figure closer to his as he enclosed your shoulder with his strong arm. a weird feeling of safety drowning your insides. it was such an intimate and loving moment even though the only thing you knew about each other was the other’s name. still, you didn’t want to move, you strangely enjoyed his company more than you expected.

san, after moments of complete silence, spoke, “wanna go out tomorrow?”

“mm? go out?”

“yeah. even though i only know your name, you’re the most beautiful, breathtaking woman i’ve ever seen in my life. and don’t get me wrong, i loved this, i think i might have an obsession with your body now.” you both chuckled, “but it’d be my greatest pleasure if you let me take you out on a date tomorrow.” he stared at you for a moment before continuing, “wanna know more about you.”

your still dumbfounded mind didn’t let you think clearly, so you could only mutter a few words, “apart from my name?”

he giggled softly, your heart melting as the sound reached your ears. a warmth spreaded through your chest consequently. “apart from your name.” he confirmed.

you didn’t have much to think about. this had never happened to you with any of the guys you had slept with, and it had always been your dream to find the one. the one who, in addition to your body, is interested in your soul, what you have to give. and it seemed like your dream man was right next to you, wrapping you with his captivating, safe arms. then your response was automatic, tenderly silent. “yes, i’d love to.”

san smiled fondly. “it’s settled then.” he brought his lips to your forehead to place a short, sincere kiss. “thank you, princess” he whispered in a low, sweet tone. your cheeks and heart warming at the sound of it. “let’s get some sleep, hm?”

you hummed lowly in response, nestling comfortably in his chest. reality hadn’t hit you yet, but it would soon. tomorrow! more specifically. but, for the moment, you just dedicated yourself to sleep soundly, trapped between the love of your life and wet sheets.

| masterlist

[flurrys-creativity]

Limerence

Limerence (n.) - the state of being infatuated with another person

Pairing: Choi San (Ateez) x Fem!Reader; Genre: Slice of Life, Gym Buddies, Smut; Rating: nsfw, 18+, MDNI; Warnings: pervert San, including pervert thoughts, picturing inappropriate scenes, stealing a panty, mentions of the male reproduction organ and the state it's in, SMUT-> oral (m receiving), semi-public sex (as in anybody could have walked in at any time), reverse cowgirl, unprotected sex, cum shot; Wordcount: 2.862

Summary: It all started with a moan. The second San heard your moan, he couldn't forget it. No, his mind and whole being were consumed by it and he needed to fulfil his desire. One way or another.

A/N: This is part of the Perverteez Collab, which came to life with members of @pirateeznet , including: @sanjoongie, @daddyfordaeddy, @mingsolo, @potatomountain, @desirehorizon, @bunnliix and @skteezcursed I definitely enjoyed writing this and I'm all excited for the others to drop their stories sooner or later this year! Go check them out too!

It had all started with a moan. 

Skin slapped against skin while the steam of the sauna filled the air. You had your hands tangled in his dark locks, trying to keep yourself grounded while San snapped his hips with harsh thrusts into you.

While you knew what you had innitiated, you never thought it to be like this.

San on the other hand had desperately waited for this day to come.

Ever since you joined the same gym he frequently visited, he was already smitten with you. Something about your aura got his attention and he couldn’t help himself but get to know you.

Over time the both of you became gym friends. You two would run on the treadmills beside each other, help each other during weight training and hang out at the protein bar after workouts.

You had become used to how touchy San was while he guided your form during your sets and you honestly didn’t mind it either. Hence, you had absolutely no issue with him offering his hands for your sore shoulders.

“I really have no strength in my arms and upper body”, you laughed pitifully, wincing when you rolled your right shoulder.

“Yet you could crush a melon with the strength in your legs.” San chuckled softly and handed you one of the two protein shakes he just made.

You accepted it with a smile, but still slumped down on your seat. “Yet, you don’t seem to be as affected on leg day than me after shoulder day.” You grabbed the straw and stirred it around the shake mindlessly with a prominent pout on your lips. “I honestly wish for my arms and shoulders to just fall off.”

San laughed heartily. He even had to place his shake on the counter and hold his stomach, the cartoonish image his mind created had him nearly rolling on the floor. “How about”, he wheezed between his laughter, “I give you a simple massage?”

“You would?” Your eyes widened, sparkling with excitement. The second you saw San nod, you turned on your seat and showed him your back.

Therefore San had abandoned his own protein shake and placed his large hands on your shoulders. At first he only brushed his fingers and palms over your skin. After a few brushes he grew bolder, pressing down into your flesh and muscles in all the right places.

You moaned out, eyes closed with a blissed expression painted over your features. Your head rolled forward and you could feel how your muscles relaxed more and more.

San on the other hand tensed up. That moan did things to him he wasn’t prepared for. His mind almost immediately constructed all kinds of situations where he could hear your moans: 

Having you ride his dick in the same sex sauna room, fucking you from behind in the showers, pressing you against a wall of the changing room while fucking your dripping hole or eating you out in one of the fitness course rooms. 

He couldn’t care less about who could stumble upon you two - not when you could be moaning out his name, sharing with the world who made you feel so good.

San only snapped out of his thoughts when you placed your hands on his and stopped his ministrations.

“Thanks for the massage, I truly feel new energy running through my veins.” You snickered as you stood up and showcased your arms like a bodybuilder. “Might even go for another workout.”

His eyes followed your form as you skipped away to another machine. San didn’t want to admit it but his gaze was definitely trained on your ass. 

Only after you disappeared from his sight did he get a hold of his thoughts again. Heat creeped up his neck and cheeks as guilt spread from his mind throughout his whole body.

Still, your moan haunted his being and mind, his dreams and his everyday life. Whenever he saw you, his desire for you rose again and he needed to fulfil it - one way or another.

“Wait, your position is all sloppy”, San chided you softly and stepped behind you. He pressed your behind against his front, one hand on your hip and the other on your lower stomach. 

You squeaked in surprise, feeling his heat radiating against your back. San’s fingertips pressed into your hip tighter than they should and you could feel the outline of his hardening dick. You swallowed audibly, gasping softly at the feeling. Yet, you tried to reason with your thoughts, telling yourself it meant nothing and was simply a natural body reaction of his.

San had his eyes closed and inhaled deeply, absorbing everything from this moment to savour it for later.

These instances happened more frequently, San becoming insatiable. At the same time his guilt increased as well. Every time he pleased himself underneath the showers, picturing your face, body and moans, the feeling of guilt followed soon after: having his face flushed and making him unable to look you in the eye when you two met after changing.

“Sometimes I think you’re taking longer and longer to get changed”, you teased him with a snicker adding to your words. “And I thought women were the ones taking forever.” You pushed yourself up from the chair you had waited on, grabbing your gym bag and hoisting it up on your shoulder.

“You’re imagining things”, San mumbled, pouting and turning even more red than before.

As you only continued giggling about it while moving towards the entrance, San’s gaze dropped down to your ass again. At the same time he noticed something peeking out of your gym bag. 

His heart rate quickened upon realising it was your underwear. Any fear or second thoughts left his mind while he hastened his steps, moving to be besides you. 

“Stop laughing”, he grumbled, diverting your attention to his face. San sneakily grabbed for the pair of undies, stuffing them immediately into his pocket as if nothing ever happened. 

“It’s adorable how red you get when I tease you.”

“Stop teasing me too.”

You laughed even louder now, gleefully shaking your head. “But I love seeing your adorable side.” You raised your hand and cupped his cheek, gently guiding him down to your level so you were able to give him a peck on the other cheek. “See you tomorrow, big boy.”

San clenched his hand around the fabric of your panties, freezing up completely. It wasn’t that he turned into a statue due to your peck. On the contrary, by clenching his hand he actually noticed a wet spot on the fabric. Now his thoughts spiralled while they imagined all kinds of things.

Could it be that you liked him the same way he liked you? That you got turned on by his close presence? 

The pad of his thumb rubbed slow circles on the sticky wetness of your panties, making him fantasise about fingering you and circling your sensitive clit. San nearly came in his own pants from these thoughts alone. He immediately stopped his movements, getting overrun with guilt upon seeing you turn around one last time and innocently wave your arm at him.

Part of his brain hated him for having such a dirty mind and all these lustrous thoughts about you. San felt bad for having them, felt bad for making you the object of his desire. Another part of his brain swore to himself to be better.

That resolve died the very next day during his bench presses. You stood right above his face, keeping track of his movements. His face was so close to your entrance, if you would just sit down. 

“Hey, focus!” You leaned forward and slapped his upper arm, glaring down at his face before looking back up at his hands and the weights. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

San closed his eyes, simply humming with a restrained tone. He truly tried focusing on his work out but his perverted mind told him he could feel the heat radiating from your thighs right next to his ears. His dick twitched in his sweats and he knew he either had to fuck you immediately or have a steaming hot shower to evaporate his thoughts.

You yelped in surprise when San slammed the iron bar into its safety position all of a sudden. His hands came up to your thighs and pushed you away from his head before he sat up, facing away from you with ears glowing red. 

“I need to let off some steam.”

“Well”, you rounded the machine and stood next to him again, “the sauna might help you in that case.”

San only nodded before he stood up and trotted away towards the changing rooms. Initially he wanted to take a shower but the longer he thought about it, the more he feared he’d jack off to your image again. Hence, he followed your suggestion of going into the sauna.

It didn’t surprise him when he entered the mixed cabin and nobody else was in there. Even though there were quite a few members at the gym, most of them stayed away from revealing too much of their body to others - at least when it came to the private parts.

With only a towel around his waist, San sat down in one corner. He leaned back on his elbows and let his head drop back as well, trying to soak in the heat as much as possible. San didn’t even react when he heard the door open and close again, nor did he react to the footsteps walking over.

“Is it helping?”

The speed it took San to sit up straight again nearly gave him whiplashes. He stared at you with wide eyes, hands awkwardly folded over his lap. “I, what, this, I..”

You giggled softly, hiding your mouth behind your hand. “This is the mixed sauna. Are you that surprised to see me here?”

San silently shook his head as his eyes momentarily roamed over your figure. You only wore a towel as well, having it secured with some sort of knot at the front of your chest. The towel barely reached over your ass, making San think of a different kind of steamy yet again. He pressed down on his lap, desperately trying to conceal the massive hard on between his legs. His ears turned red once more, especially when he noticed how your gaze dropped down to his tensed hands and back up, with a glint in your eyes he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

You clasped your hands behind your back, knowing full well that the action seemed innocent but highlighted your boobs perfectly while you softly turned your upper body from side to side. “Is that seat taken?” 

San blinked several types, barely processing your question in the first place. “Huh?”

You leaned forward, forcing San to look at your face. “Is THAT seat taken?” You repeated your question, purposefully dropping your gaze down to his lap and back up again.

When San finally shook his head, you placed a hand on one of his knees. You tapped your fingers in a walking motion along his upper leg, grinning to yourself when San unconsciously spread his legs wider. You kneeled in front of him, using your other hand to unclasp his. “Tell me to stop if I’m overstepping.”

San grabbed the wooden planks of the bench right next to his body when your fingers glided over the prominent curve of the towel still hiding his dick. 

Your hand, which wandered along his leg, slipped underneath the fabric. You wrapped your fingers around his thick shaft, feeling yourself already getting wet by the thought of having him inside of you.

A soft gasp escaped San’s lips. He stared at your beautiful face, entranced by your aura and your actions. San barely noticed how you pushed the towel away, revealing his cock to you. All he could focus on was your tongue, gliding over your lips in a sensual way right before it connected with the tip of his throbbing dick. He groaned and his eyes fluttered shut. One of his hands came up to your head, fingers threading through your hair while you went down on his length. 

While San didn’t push you down, you thrived upon feeling the weight of his hand on the back of your head - combined with the weight of his cock on your tongue. You were able to set your own pace, alternating from slow to fast, deep to shallow. 

It didn’t take long to have San a moaning and grunting mess underneath you, his hips stuttering ever so often and making you halt in your movements completely. 

San cursed underneath his breath, leaning back on his elbows again and throwing his head back. 

You used the chance of him not holding your head anymore - even though he had put no force into it before - to give his shaft one last lick and a kiss on the top before you stood up.

San opened his eyes, about to whine from the lack of stimulation, when he saw your tongue gliding over your lips and licking away the precum that got on it. His eyes glazed over from the desire, making him barely register how you turned away from him.

With San having his legs spread, you stood between them and slowly crouched down. You grabbed his dick and aligned it with your wet hole, going down on him with ease. A moan ripped through your throat when he filled you up completely. You pressed your legs closer together, whimpering from the pleasurable stretch inside of you. 

Once you adjusted to his size, you placed your hands on his knees again, using them as leverage to push yourself up and down over and over. You continued riding him and even ignored the burning of your thighs from the constant squats.

As if San came to his senses and noticed how your body fought against exhaustion, he wrapped his arms around your torso. With one hand he pulled the towel down, fondling with your tits and twirling with your nipples. “You sound so beautiful”, he grunted in your ear, pulling you back against his chest and tightening his hold on you, right before his hips snapped into you.

You weren’t sitting anymore, instead lying on his chest. Your head rolled to the side and you felt San immediately latching his lips onto your soft skin. Broken moans came out of your mouth as San started to hit all the right places inside of you as well. 

“That’s.. so much.. better.. than I ever.. imagined!” San underlined his statement with hard thrusts, making you cry out in pleasure. “Can’t believe I’m finally fucking you for good. You’re so fucking tight and wet for me! This pussy was made for my cock, made for me to fuck.” One of his hands wandered down to your clit, pinching and rubbing it. “That’s it, that’s my fucking girl.” 

You immediately tensed from the added stimulation, feeling your high approach faster than you anticipated. His hands, his dick, his filthy words and the knowledge where you two were, all added to your building orgasm.

“Tell everyone who makes you feel that good, tell everyone who is making you wobble from soreness tomorrow. Let us show everyone the best workout you’re having.” San became erratic in his words and his thrusts, feeling how your walls clenched around his dick and chasing his own orgasm. 

You screamed his name when you came, your vision turning black and then white as San continued to fuck you through your orgasm. You turned somewhat limp on top of him, feeling blissed from your high.

San pulled out of you, stuffing three of his fingers inside your throbbing hole instead. He pumped them in and out, while simultaneously rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb. His other hand grabbed onto his dick, pumping it hurriedly until ropes of white cum shot out and painted your stomach.

You raised your head slightly, watching his cock shoot out more and more of his sticky semen. Seeing your painted stomach and lower chest as well as his fingers pumping into you, triggered a second orgasm. You arched your back, gasping out loud from the unfiltered pleasure washing through your whole body. At the same time your hands roamed over your skin, spreading his cum all over it.

“Shit”, San exhaled shakingly, “you’re so fucking beautiful.” 

“Took you long enough to act on it”, you laughed softly as you turned your head and placed a kiss on his jaw. “I had hoped to have had this kind of workout last night after you stole my panties.”

San pushed his fingers deeper inside of you from the surprise, underestimating the force behind it. 

“Ah, please, more.” 

“You knew?” San turned his head to look at your profile, making note of every miniscule change. He noticed the sly smirk on your lips and how you only opened one eye, looking at him through a hooded lid.

“Since the moan that triggered it all.”

© all rights reserved

Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland @songsoomin

[armpirate]

Kalla || Choi San

pairing: Choi San x fem!reader || Strangers

w.c.: 5.2k

Warnings: Smut, softdom!San x sub!reader, teasing, protected sex, soft bondage, tickler, dirty talk, rough sex, mentions of voyeurism, swingers and BDSM. If you're a minor, refrain from reading it. Also, if you don't like this content, just keep scrolling.

Summary: The calla lily has a fair amount of symbols related to it. And the owner of the hotel you were sent to work to chose to use the hidden lustful, sexy and sensual meaning of it.

You struggled with trying to do many things at the same time: getting the luggage out of the cab’s truck, all while trying to keep your Gucci bag still hanging on your arm, holding your phone against your ear, and trying to look as neat and professional as you could manage to. 

It was a challenge.

The fact that the cab driver didn’t even bother to get out of the vehicle to help you, and just limited himself to look through the rearview, pressuring you to end fast, was annoying you. Huffing once your things were out, and closing the truck as hard as you could, showing off your frustration, got you wondering if you’d have reacted the same way in any other circumstances. 

Back home, you were in the middle of moving out from the apartment you shared with your -now- ex boyfriend, all while processing that he chose to cheat on you the same day you needed support the most after being rejected for a project you were looking forward to. Yet the Marketing manager, and also your friend, thought it’d be a good idea to make you travel all the way from home to Seoul to get you to talk with a possible new client -that was planning to open a new hotel in London. 

“How was the flight?” Lizzie casually asked.

“Oh, it was great” you answered, the irony in your tone already getting your friend ready for your complaints. “Out of all the people in the plane, I was the only one who had a massage chair, which worked with the feet of a diabolic little kid” all the excitement that Lizzie built in mid sentence, dropped down as you finished up. 

It seemed like the universe was urging you to give up on everything you had ever wanted. Marriage? Your boyfriend cheated on you and destroyed the four-year relationship you two had. Family? If it wasn’t enough to see your brother’s wife lose her tiny bit of sanity because of your nephews, you kept crossing paths with kids and parents that made you reconsider that deep wish of ever starting a family. 

At that point, you only craved peace

You sighed, trying to regain some calmness that you seemed to have left at Heathrow. “Who is the client?”. You remembered his name was discussed in one of the meetings, but you were too distracted to pay enough attention -in your defense, you didn’t think that project would be yours anyway. 

“Kalla” was written in big, with neat letters, sophisticatedly brightened by white lights, that also allowed the dark golden borders to shine, over the big revolving door. 

Lizzie finally spoke again “He’s young, Asian…” you had to interrupt her when you heard that, because there was no way she used that only to describe.

“Well, no shit Sherlock, I’m in Seoul”  you threw your head back, trying to not let your annoyance get the worst of you. “Nevermind, I’ll just ask for the owner” that’d definitely work better, and faster, than waiting for your friend to give details and explanations that could work out for you. And it wasn’t like you had the patience either.

After hanging up the phone, and dragging your things inside the hotel, you were surprised by the delicate reception that reeked of expensiveness.Maybe it was the high walls that seemed to have no ending, the white marble floor, or the big calla lily flower that adorned the curved black stairs to the first floor. 

Heading to the huge counter across the reception, you supported your weight on it, getting the attention of a well dressed woman, who placed her waistcoat properly before speaking to you “I’m looking for the owner of the hotel. I’m Y/n, a representative from Youth. I had a meeting scheduled with him”.

The woman, all while smiling, nodded and checked on the computer hidden underneath the counterpart, confirming everything you’ve just said “Yes, here it is. But unfortunately Mr. Choi is busy right now. I’m afraid he won’t be able to meet with you until tomorrow morning”

Great. You tried your best at holding yourself back from rolling your eyes. It wasn’t like it was going to change your plans that much, because you wouldn’t be flying back home until two days later. But the plan was to have the first contact meeting as you arrived, and spend the next day exploring the hotel and discussing what objectives he had for his new hotel in London. You could still do all that tomorrow, but the slight change of plans -that messed with the strict schedule you settled to yourself- irked you. 

“I’ll give you your room key” she announced, after you agreed on waiting for him. “Our spa is open until nine, just like the pool. The pub is open until three. And if you crave something yummy, the room service is available all day.” pointing the way towards the lifts on the left, she said “Your room is the 115 on the second floor. Hope you enjoy your stay” said that, she bowed and waited for you to leave. 

When you got to your room, you wondered if you were getting a special treatment, or if all the rooms were alike. Because fucking hell. As you let your body dive in the fluffy mattress, you took a look around. Despite the black walls, the room still looked quite big for just one person. The decoration was quite minimalistic, following the white, yellow and black tones that you had already seen in the reception. In one corner of the room, next to the TV, you saw a black and white painting with a calla lily flower on it. And, considering the name of the hotel was “Kalla”, it made sense that their decoration focused on that flower in particular. Resting your head back on the mattress, you were finally aware of the several small mirrors on the ceiling, that could form one big mirror altogether if you looked properly. It was definitely a place to share with a partner, and Lizzie was so cruel for giving this work to you after what happened…

Rubbing that thought away, or at least trying to, you opened your luggage. It was eight, and it wasn’t like you were starving -because you made sure to stop somewhere to get something to eat before the supposed meeting-, but you needed a drink. And you were planning on staying in that pub until three. 

You weren’t exactly planning on clubbing while in Seoul, or going out for drinks, so your clothes were focused on serious meetings and casual clothes. You tried your best at combining both, to get a decent look before you went downstairs with a pair of jeans, a lilac blouse and a pair of black stilettos -that got you regretting your decision of wearing them after fifteen minutes, rushing yourself to sit on the first free stool you saw. 

San came back to the hotel where he spent most of his time, greeting the employees that were chattering behind the counter at the reception before heading directly to the open pub at the other side of the hall. 

The atmosphere there was always… exciting. And he loved the huge variety of people that were there. From couples enjoying their time before they jumped straight to their rooms or single people that were looking for someone to spend the night with, to those who found joy only looking at others. Or so that was the typical thing there. Of course, there were exceptions, like the woman who was sitting at the corner of the counter, too focused on her own drink to bother herself by lifting her eyes from it. 

And while he’d have ignored her to show some feedback to the women who had their eyes on him already, there was something in her aura that instantly attracted him to her. 

“The same as always?” the bartender asked, receiving a short nod from San before he took the spot next to you. 

He peeked at your drink, or what was remaining from it, and puckered his lips in approval. He had worked several years as a bartender to know that your drink was a Sex on the beach. The bitter taste of vodka, mixed with the fruity flavor of peach and cranberries was sexy. And the suggestive name of the drink was pretty much in line with the concept of the hotel. 

Yet you seemed completely uninterested in anyone. So he wondered if you were one of those who liked to go solo but being watched by others. Maybe that was your thing. 

“A pic will last longer” you caught him off guard by your comment, finally raising your eyes from the glass to the attractive man in front of you.

“I was just checking your drink”

“You know that sounds suspicious as fuck” you squinted your eyes at him.

You’ve dealt with several assholes while partying, those who’d do anything to get their dick wet -and you meant absolutely anything. But that man didn’t seem like one of those. Despite his harsh looks, you could find some kindness underneath. Maybe it was the way he was smiling, and the dimples that formed perfectly on each one of his cheeks before he spoke again. 

“That’s not what I meant” he got momentarily interrupted by the waiter handing him a short, but wide, glass of what you thought could be whiskey. “I just thought it was a good choice”

Lifting your drink a bit, you twisted your lips “Honestly, it seemed to be the softest drink in the menu” you had a high tolerance to alcohol, you just hated the excessive taste of it. 

“I’m San, by the way”

“Y/n”

San nodded again, scanning his eyes all over your body. Unable to not admire the way those jeans fitted perfectly in your curves, embracing your legs and ass on that stool, while his eyes avoided to be too obvious when they landed on your small cleavage -although, from his perspective, he could see more than enough to know that what you were hiding underneath was too good to hide it.

“I guess you come here often” you muttered, making him look at you with frowned eyes. “He said he’d get you the same as always”.

“So you like listening to others’ conversations” he teased you.

“More like, I’m an observer by nature” which was a requirement for your job. 

San nodded, curious about your response. You were a flirt, but it was so unconscious and natural from you that he could tell you didn’t belong to that place. Yet at the same time you fitted so perfectly. 

He could also tell you weren’t that good of an observer, because you seemed to be completely unaware of the three men that had their eyes on you two since he approached you. Or maybe you were aware, and he was just lucky that you were playing along with his game. 

“What about you?” he took a sip from his drink. “What brings you here?”

“Business” you nodded. “I had to meet with someone for a project, but the asshole didn’t dare to show up and didn’t even bother to inform me beforehand. So I’m here, killing time”

Minutes went by, letting him invite you for another drink when he also asked for another one for him, while you two just talked about anything. You swore you had never been that comfortable with anyone before, not even your ex boyfriend. Talking with San was so easy and fluent, it was like there was no way the conversation could die, because you two always managed a way to connect the previous topic to a new one. 

Well, that, and the fucking tension. You caught his eyes flying to your lips more than once while speaking, licking his own before smirking. And you’d done the right same thing a little too many times as well. He also touched your knee a few times, and you weren’t sure if he had done it on purpose or not, but the tickles in your stomach were dying for him to stick his hand there -accidentally or not. Something was pulling you to each other, but your own restrictions kept stopping any kind of move forward. 

You didn’t know San was convinced of winning that inner battle you had, no matter what. And, maybe, you were willing to lose for once, as well.

“So you don’t like rough drinks” he brought up again.

“Picky taste, they call it” you joked, moving the short straw in circles. 

He wondered if that was the only thing you didn’t like to be rough. 

San then took a drink, and you were so lost on the way his Adam’s apple moved as he gulped the drink, that you were unable to control yourself.

Fuck whatever inner battle you were having.

“But… can I try it?” you asked.

Without hesitation, San turned to you and offered you his glass. Instead, you moved to him, both of your hands enclosing around his neck before you link both of your lips together. You wanted to forget about that lame pick up line you pulled, but most importantly, you needed to know if his lips felt as good on yours as you had been imagining for almost an hour. And fuck they did. The heart-shaped form molding on yours as if you had been destined to meet that night. 

To your surprise, he answered your kiss, just as hungry and needy as you. Soon turning more possessive, controlling. You started the kiss, but he took control of it as his hands pressed on each side of your waist.

You weren’t a big fan of one night stands. You hated the idea of going to bed with a total stranger, even kissing one put you in a tough position. But something about San kept drawing you to him. You weren’t sure if it was the taste of whiskey every time his tongue twirled on yours, the way his thumb rubbed on your sides, or the heat that he was able to create with just his presence. But you were ready for everything he could give you.

“Should we take this somewhere?” he asked, breathless.

Yes, please.

But you didn’t beg out loud. You simply nodded, trying to guess how you’d stand up without falling down. Because your legs felt weak as hell at that point. 

The big question was where. You had too many important documents in your room, regarding that hotel project, to mess it all up because you were horny enough to invite a hook up in there. 

But again, he chose on your behalf, holding your hand to guide you towards the lifts you’d taken not that long ago. Your mind was too busy thinking about all the sinful things you wanted to do to him, to worry about your drinks not being paid. Your mind was filled with him, and when you got inside that elevator, his name intensified so deep in your brain that you couldn’t help but jump again on him, earning a chuckle from him against your lips that sent shiverings all over your body. And those only increased when he pressed you against the cold wall.

“Patience” he gasped, holding your hands on each side of your head when your fingers rushed to unbutton his black velvety waistcoat. “Don’t tell me I’ll have to teach you what that is”.

“Well, I’m quite a restless ass, so…” you managed to say under your breath.

That response, the way you tilted your head… You were one hell of a tease, and he knew he’d have a lot of fun with you tonight. 

All his sinful thoughts, filled with all of the things he wanted to do to you, were interrupted by the bell of the lift when you two got to the top floor. 

Sucking on your lower lip one last time, he held your hand and guided you down the hall. And with every step, you found yourself more nervous, but also excited and eager for what was to come. It was your first time ever hooking up with a man that you had just met, but you were ready for everything you two could offer to each other. 

San moved the key card skillfully over the magnet, unlocking the door to his room. You held your breath, trying to get as much air as possible as you were waiting for another kiss. But, instead, he invited you in and followed you from behind, closing the door and turning the lights off. 

His room was like yours, but reversed. Just a few things changed in the distribution, like the bathroom -instead of being at the left like yours, his was at the right. 

There was a moment of silence, thick and heavy, almost unbearable by the way he was looking at you with such intensity. The sound of the heels of his shoes hitting against the wooden floor made your heart beat a bit faster, leaving you close to pass out when he stood in front of you. 

His warm breath caressed your forehead, while his fingers pulled from your blouse, taking it out of your jeans before they moved up to those small white buttons. He unbuttoned each one, eyes focused on yours, as if he were wanting to say all the things he was planning for that night with them. He stopped his job though, moving his fingers upwards to your jaw, making a burning trail from that spot to your collarbones, moving the fabric enough to expose part of your shoulder before his fingers trailed down. He traced the curve of your breast, so slowly that it was painful, moving over the space between your tits, stopping at the place where he stopped unbuttoning your shirt. 

“Get naked for me” he demanded, but in such a sweet tone that it felt like honey to your ears.

As you nodded, he stepped back, only taking off the waistcoat you tried to rip off back in the elevator, throwing it somewhere in the room, before taking a seat over the edge of the bed. 

You took your heels off while you fought with the buttons left of your blouse, moving down to fight with your jeans when the upper fabric was long gone. You got naked in a new record time, but he stopped you when you finally took off your bra. Lifting two fingers in the air, he motioned you to start walking towards him. 

“We have all night, babe” he assured you, placing you in between his open legs, before you almost lost all balance when his tongue swirled around your nipple. 

He loved the way your body reacted to him almost instantly, feeling the buttons getting hard on his tongue with just a few moves, while you were trying your best at hiding your pleasure expression from him. Although, all that stopped when his lips closed around one of them. San was fast getting drunk from your taste, your reaction and that subtle coconut smell that was mixed with your arousal scent. Changing from one button to the other, he started slipping your panties down, making your skin burn with the way his fingers barely touched you on their way down. 

You felt a throb shaking you up from head to toe when his lips got in contact with your belly for the first time.

“Lay on the bed” he demanded.

You just did what he said. Feeling good over him having that amount of power over you, strangely excited by how you were fully naked in front of him while he was still completely clothed -although he was fighting against the knot of his tie while he walked around the bed. 

When he took out some pieces of the headboard to show off two long chains that came from each side, you instantly sat up. 

“Why does your room have this?” 

San looked at you confused for one second. All rooms had all kinds of sex toys or accessories, they were just hidden for the customer’s comfort and to keep the elegance of the hotel itself. “I’m sure yours has it, too”.

You still looked confused, because why the hell would a hotel have chains on the headboard of its beds.

“This hotel is designed for this, and aimed at people into this type of thing” he bothered to explain, kneeling next to you on the bed. “I thought you knew it”.

He knew there was something strange about you the second he laid his eyes on your body back in the pub, but he never thought it’d be that you were completely unaware of the hotel’s nature.

It was something that you’d have known if you had held the meeting with the owner, but you didn’t. 

“We can stop it all right now” you heard him say.

And despite being confused about what was happening, you still rushed to stop him from moving. Could be you were too into that man, too lost in his inverted triangle torso under that white shirt, or the way his bulge marked under his slacks, but you didn’t really want it to stop. 

“I want to go on” you assured him, instantly earning a sided smile from him. 

He stretched the black tie in his hands, looking at you with a careful gaze “Whenever you’re unsure, uncomfortable… If you just want to stop, use the safe word, calla, and I’ll stop. Understood?”.

After seeing you nodding, he wrapped his tie around your head, covering your eyes with the black and thick fabric. Gently, he pushed you towards the mattress, with two fingers against your chest, until you were finally lying down. 

With your eyes covered, you felt like your other senses multiplied per ten. You could perfectly hear the sound of the thin chains rubbing against the metallic headboard, you could feel the light weight of each one of the handcuffs next to your wrists as San placed himself on top of you. 

He closed the two puffy handcuffs around you, restricting your moves, but also making sure they wouldn’t be that tight to hurt you. 

Your back momentarily arched when you felt something light and soft caressing your skin, tracing an invisible line from your jaw, down to your neck and collarbones. San found delightful the way your body responded to the plastic flower running over your body. It was all your subtle responses that made him twitch in his pants faster than he’d want to. He wanted to teach you about patience, and there he was, almost close to losing his because of the way your hairs lifted as the petal drew the rugosity of your nipples, your how thick you swallowed when it kept moving down to your belly button. 

The touch of that thing on your body, ghosting over your skin, and teasing your pelvis, as San moved back to straddle your thighs, was sending you to a whole new place. Needy, eager, desperate… Those were the words that would describe you right now, as your arousal kept leaking while all you wanted was him. San was a king at building up the moment and getting you ready for him. He was giving a whole new meaning to the word patience. 

You stopped feeling his weight on your body, but you did feel it on the mattress, in front of you. Biting your lip to hold back a moan, when he lifted your leg from your ankle. That soft thing was tempting the curve of your sole, moving forward to the marked bone of your ankle, before it started moving up past your calve. Still going up to your inner thigh, you felt San’s strong hands enclosing around your knees, parting your legs to finally see by himself his creation. Your slick creating thin lines among your folds when he left you completely open. 

“You’re so gorgeous” he assured, finally allowing you to feel his lips on the soft skin of your inner thighs. 

It was your first time in that place, in that situation, but you were molding in so perfectly, you were looking so fucking tempting, he had to remind himself he had to be easy on you. He was dying to use one of the whips hidden behind the secret closet next to the TV, or overstimulating you with one of the vibrators until you asked him to stop. Only because you dared to go faster than what he was planning to back in that elevator. 

Maybe another day. 

You felt his weight disappearing from the bed, but you still heard the sound of his clothes moving, barely making a sound when they fell to the ground around him. Soon after he joined you again, placing himself between your thighs, and letting his heavy dick rest on your pubes, grinding on you “Are you going to take me like a good girl?”.

You nodded, thinking it’d be enough with just that. Until a hard span on your thigh made you jump, and bite your lip to shut the whimper tempting to get out.

“Use your words”.

“Yes” your voice sounded so weak, he found it cute. 

Your hips instantly lifted when he moved his tip all over your slit, getting himself wet enough before thrusted in all at once, making a scream get drowned at the back of your throat while holding yourself onto the chains by the surprise. Waiting a few seconds, he rolled his hips back again slowly, before thrusting into you hard again, making your whole body collapse against the mattress. 

He repeated that same move a few times, just to buckle his hips and go faster in you, not allowing you to feel empty for long enough before he was filling you completely again. “So tight and good” he moaned “You have no fucking idea what beautiful you’re looking right now, being fucked so good” His fingergrips dinted on your skin, and you were sure you’d be filled with his marks the morning after. But you couldn’t care less. You were too lost in pleasure, too over the moon by his cock rubbing against all the right spots, that you were even having a hard time controlling your own moans.

And he was aware, and bothered by it. San was seeing you moving your body constantly, clenching your jaw while pressing your lips together, with only small whines and gasps getting to escape your mouth with every thrust, forcing him to press his digits on your cheeks, parting your lips so those sounds would be filling the room. 

“This is how I want you, babe” his hand went down to your waist, lifting your hips a bit more. “Be a fucking mess for me. Let everyone know who’s fucking you this good”.

You yourself were surprised by your own whimpers, finding it hard to believe those loud moans and begs were coming from you. Never in your life you thought you’d feel so much pleasure to be so loud, always thinking it was something exaggerated by the few porn movies you used to watch when you had to do the job your ex didn’t. 

It was the first time in your life you were losing yourself completely, not having a single bit of control over your body. 

His fingers dragged the tie down, now placed around your neck, before he pulled from it to force you to look at him. 

You were too shy to keep your eyes on him, but too fucking turned on by own looks to move them away. His jaw was clenched, his eyes -almost covered with his bangs- were filled with sinful words that were roaming in the back of his head. You looked down at his marked abs, and the outline of his pelvis, pounding against you so hard that you thought he was planning to break you in half, while your body just bounced with it. 

You were unable to resist when his fingers started tracing circles around your clit. Your legs kept being pushed apart by his free hand whenever you aimed to close them. “I’m gonna cum” your head hung in the air, now rocking with the rest of his body and his full control. 

“You gonna cum on my cock?” he tilted his head. “Do it. Make a mess for me, babe”.

It took him those words, and three more circles around your bundle of nerves, and your pussy was milking him hard and tight while cumming all around him. And after seeing your eyes rolled to the back of your head, hearing that broken loud moan, and feeling you clench so tight around him, he reached his high short after. 

After a few minutes, you were still recovering from that powerful orgasm, just that you were untied and looking up to the ceiling next to him in his bed. after he came back from throwing away the condom. 

You were waiting for your client in the waiting hall of the hotel, still thinking about the amazing night you spent with that hot stranger. Although you felt a bit guilty after basically running away from his room after he fell asleep after the second round. San assured you you could spend the night there. And, while you agreed, there was something inside you that made you get up and leave him there while he slept. 

Could be you’d see him again later today to be able to apologize. Could be you’d never see him again -and, honestly, that upsetted you more than it should have. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by a group of voices that were getting closer to your room, until the door opened and showed a neatly dressed woman -that was probably around your age. 

“Mr. Choi will be with you in a second” she assured her.

And just nodding, you sat back on the armchair while playing nervously with your fingers on your lap. You expected that man to be someone old, rough and difficult to handle. Because there was no way you were the only one in the office acceptable to take the job. You were sure more than one person rejected the project, and you were the only dumb one to take it.

“Sorry for being so late…”

You froze on the spot when you saw him. If you had had a way to hide yourself anywhere, you for sure would’ve jumped anywhere to close yourself inside forever. The man you were begging for more last night, that had you in shambles and almost crying from pleasure, the same man you abandoned at five in the morning in the sneakiest way possible, was standing in front of you. 

“Mr. Choi?” you asked, nervously.

“You’re the agent from Youth?” unlike you, his looks brightened when he saw you. “So I’m that asshole?”.

Reminding how you ranted against the owner of the hotel with him, you were aware you were talking to the person you were talking shit of.

No. Now. Now was when you wanted to hide forever. That probably was the worst way to start the negotiations for a project.

[sun-kissy]

Hi, i wanted to request a james potter x reader thingy :))

So the idea is that james and reader broke up during hogwarts/directly after because they had the children talk, james really wants to be a father but reader is terrified of pregnancy so they break up. But over the years the reader keeps yearning for james and eventually they meet again when james and lily are together and have baby harry and its just really angsty 😭😭

Hope all of this makes sense i thought of this while listening to a song lyric

thank you for the request babe i love how your brain works <3 this is quite angsty so hopefully you like it! and now i’m curious to know what song 👀

also here’s some shameless promotion for @astonishment’s series with the same name, it’s deliciously tragic (☹️☹️☹️) and everyone should check it out!!

in another life | j.p.

“Calm down, babe,” Sirius mutters as you walk in step, looping his arm through yours.

You nibble on your bottom lip anxiously, sighing as you glance over at him. “It’s not that easy, Siri. I’m seeing him after what — four years? I can’t just calm down!”

He rolls his eyes, reaching towards you and thumbing at your lip to save it from your torment. “You’re seeing me after four years.”

You turn to Sirius, and he huffs out a laugh at your deadpan expression. “Well, you never asked me to marry you.”

Sirius wiggles his eyebrows, his lips curving up into a grin. “Marry me?”

“Fuck off, Black.”

James and Lily Potter were holding a meet-up of sorts, and had invited most people in your year at Hogwarts. You were hesitant to go, given your history with James, but Sirius insisted you tag along. You knew he, Remus, and Peter had stayed in touch with James. Rightfully, you ought to have too. But neither of you tried to; maybe you both knew it was better that way.

Sirius simpers, coming to a halt in front of the large black gates of the mansion. He reaches forward and begins to twist the lock, and you instinctively reach over and grab his hand to stop him. He turns to you, confusion twisting his features. “What are you — oh. Oh, sweetheart.”

He softens when he sees the expression on your face. You’re biting your cuticles, and the anxiety in your features is palpable. Sirius sighs and firmly pulls your hand away from your mouth, intertwining your fingers together. “It’s gonna be okay. Just be cordial with him. There’s no bad blood, right?”

“Right,” you mutter, albeit uncertainly.

“But, um…” he sighs, dropping your hand to rake his fingers through his hair. “There’s something I should’ve told you before. But I didn’t wanna freak you out.”

“What?”

The apprehension in your tone causes Sirius to wince. “James and Lily, they… they’ve got a baby.”

There’s a beat of loud silence as the fact sinks in, a mount of uncertainty and hurt settling in the pit of your stomach.

“Oh.”

You’re trying not to show it, but the heartbreak on your face is painfully obvious. Sirius pouts, moving to take your hand again. “Babe, I’m sorry. I should’ve –”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, the gates swinging open to reveal a beaming James Potter.

“Pads,” he grins immediately, eyes locking on Sirius as he moves towards him and swoops him into a quick hug.

You take the moment to look James over. He looked exactly like you remembered — messy curls, toned biceps, that movie-star grin. Yet something felt different, in the way he pulled Sirius into a hug without all the raucous fervour he would’ve at 16, how he held him so gently at arm’s length while talking to him. He’d softened, you realised, from the responsibilities of fatherhood and being a husband.

They pull apart a moment later, and his gaze drifts to you. His smile loses a bit of its sunshine, not softening but not quite dimming either. “Y/n, hey.”

There’s a moment of hesitation as he looks at you, but then he seems to decide upon giving you a hug too.

“Hi,” you mutter as he shortens the distance between you, needling his arms under yours to press them to your back. You embrace him in return, and a sudden pang of hurt shoots through your heart at the familiarity of the action.

Perhaps he was remembering it too, from the way he tightened his grip. Both of you were heavy on physical touch, and it was undeniably the best part of your relationship back in Hogwarts — how he’d always have a hand wrapped around your waist, how you’d wake up to cuddles and hugs every morning. You didn’t exactly have anyone to hug anymore, living alone.

So you convince yourself that the reason you hold on to James for slightly longer than necessary was because you craved human touch, not because of… anything else.

Finally, James pulls away, his arms dropping to his sides as he gives you a small smile. You plaster one onto your face too, for his sake. “So,” he starts as he turns around, beginning to lead you and Sirius into the mansion, “how’ve you been, Y/n?”

You can feel Sirius’ gaze burning holes into the side of your head, but choose to ignore him. “I’ve been great, yeah. You?”

James nods. “That’s cool. Yeah, I’ve been good too. Things have been fun, but kind of busy; you know, with work and Lily and the baby…” He seems to realise what he’s said, and clears his throat awkwardly. Oh, of course. The baby.

Sirius is beside you in an instant, arching his eyebrows and nudging your elbow to respond.

“Oh, um… congrats on the baby, by the way.”

James turns around to face you as you walk, and you give him a grin to prove that you’re being genuine — to show him that it didn’t feel like there was a knife being twisted in your gut every time the word baby was brought up.

His eyes soften, and you know he can tell how you’re feeling. But he gives you a grateful smile, and says no more as the three of you come to a stop in front of the house.

“By the way,” James mutters as he pushes the door open, “you guys are like, an hour early. You’re the only ones here.”

You immediately turn around to glower at Sirius for subjecting you to more torture than necessary by bringing you early. But he all but smirks as he follows you in.

Your eyes coast around the mansion, taking it all in. It’s decorated in a minimalist aesthetic, white couches and brown rugs. It was pretty, that was for sure; but you couldn’t help but think how different it was from James’ place in the dorm — posters and stickers all over the walls, boisterously red curtains and LED lights. It used to be so full of life.

Honestly, you might’ve guessed an old couple lived here, if not for the small signs of their life as a family — the pacifier on the dining table, a cradle at the far end of the living room, and the heart-shaped photo frames lining the walls.

James watches you, a small smile playing on the edges of his lips. “You like it?”

He knows you wouldn’t like it, it’s everything you aren’t. Your dorm had been just like his; trying to fit as many vinyls and posters onto that small space next to your bed as possible. There would be fairy lights in every corner and succulents on the nightstand, a dreamcatcher which he’d gifted you hanging right above your bed. You were messy, as a person, and with your love too. You thought he was messy as well; but apparently he’d gotten his shit together already.

“Yeah, it’s simple. Pretty.”

“Honey —“ Lily bustles out the kitchen, a small gasp escaping her lips as she sees you and Sirius. She’s holding a ladle in one hand, and has her other arm wrapped around a baby perched on her waist.

You don’t register it when she kisses your cheek and hugs you, asks you how you’re doing and leads you to sit on the couch. Your gaze is locked on the baby, every second spent staring at him worsening the nauseous feeling at the back of your throat.

You must’ve asked for his name, because the word, “Harry,” registers in your head. This beautiful baby, with Lily’s deep green eyes and James’ luscious curls, was Harry.

Would you have named your baby Harry? Probably not, it was too generic. But it was too late now, to pick out names and choose a less boring aesthetic for a house together.

You had lost your chance back in seventh year, that night when you were laying on James’ bed, limbs tangled together as he raked his hands through your hair with all the love in the world. You’re gonna be my husband one day, you’d whispered, feeling so much affection for him you thought your heart would burst. Yeah, baby, he’d replied with a soft smile. We’re gonna live in a mansion, with our dogs and children and —

Children?

I don’t… I don’t want children. And that’s where it all started going downhill, that’s the moment James’ smile turned upside down and his hand dropped from your hair. It had turned into an argument, a screaming match — and eventually a reason to break up. James couldn't understand much you feared it, the pain of pregnancy and the exhaustion that came with motherhood. And some part of you knew that you weren’t blameless either — calling him awful things and accusing him of not loving you; though love was all he ever gave till the day you told him it was over.

The feeling of Sirius’ nails digging into your palm brings you back to the present, and you see him nodding absentmindedly as Lily rambles about how much trouble Harry’s been, and oh, she’s picked up a hobby of crocheting, and…

You flit your eyes to look at James sitting opposite you, gazing at you with his brows pinched in concern. Your emotions must’ve been obvious on your face, then. But he immediately looks away when Lily calls out to him, holding up Harry for him to carry.

You watch silently as James squeezes into the chair next to his wife, taking the small, lovely baby between his large, calloused hands. He smiles at Harry, looking at him though he was the most precious thing on earth. James’ fingers bunch Harry’s tiny shirt as he brings him close to his face, gently pressing a kiss to his forehead. Lily’s head lolls onto James’ shoulder as he shifts Harry into a comfortable lying position in his arms.

There you have it. The perfect family, with the gorgeous wife and the adorable baby and the man who could’ve been yours if you wanted.

It’s too much for you to take, and Sirius squeezes your hand as you start to shake. Harry coos, and you melt at how James’ face breaks into a sunny beam. He tilts his head to press a soft peck to his wife’s hair, and there’s so much love in that simple gesture that you feel like you could die.

You feel Sirius’ worried gaze on you, your hands trembling and your knee bobbing up and down. The taste of blood from how hard you’re nibbling on your lip is grounding; it brings you back to yourself, who you are, and not who you could’ve been.

“Hey,” he murmurs softly from beside you, but it doesn’t get lodged into your brain. The only thing you feel is your vision of the perfect family blurring, soft streams of regret rolling down your cheek. Sirius makes a small noise of pity from beside you, and James looks up instantly, eyes widening as they lock on you. Lily is fast asleep, baby Harry staring at you with his thumb stuck into his mouth.

“Y/n, you okay?” James asks gently, but you don’t reply, still looking at him with that distraught look on your face. You open your mouth, but you don’t seem to have the vocabulary to express the heartache you felt right that moment. It felt strangely like grief; like you were mourning for the version of yourself you never got to meet, for the version of James who didn’t have the chance to be yours.

James' mouth twists downwards in a frown as he stands up and steps closer towards you. It’s like an alarm is set off in your head, and you immediately jolt back to the present, sucking in a deep breath.

Your legs act of their own accord as you stand up, Sirius’s hand falling limp on the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. You gulp down the lump in your throat and fiercely brush the tears away, James coming to a halt in front of you. “Y/n, baby —“

“I’m not your baby.”

James slaps a hand to his mouth, eyes as wide as Harry’s now. “Fuck, no, it — it just came out. I didn’t mean to. Shit, you’re crying.”

“I’m okay,” you warble. James opens his mouth to retort but you don’t let him, knowing that the longer you spent here, the more the gaping hole in your chest would grow. You couldn’t bear it anymore, watching James with his wife and wishing it was you instead. The worst part was that it was all your fault, your stupidity and your rejection.

“I’m fine, really. I…I’m gonna go now, it was nice meeting you. Convey my love to Remus, Peter and the girls.” You pick up your bag, moving to the front door with a befuddled James tracking your movements.

“Y/n —“

“Bye, James,” you call out halfheartedly as you slip into your shoes. He comes to stand at the door, rocking Harry from side to side. He looks almost disappointed as you make to leave.

“I’m sorry.”

You look up, surprised. “It’s not your fault.”

James’ lips pursed together with guilt, seeming like he wants to say something as he opens and closes his mouth. He finally sighs, “It’s not your fault either.

It was startling, how he still knew just the right thing to say — he always had. The regret that had been clogging up your heart for years was drained out upon hearing that one sentence. James didn’t hold the utter failure of your relationship against you, and that was enough. If you couldn’t have his love, at least you had his forgiveness.

You give him a half smile and nod, turning around to leave. You’d go back to yours, more of a house than a home. But at least no one but yourself could hurt you there, there was no one to turn away and no hearts to break. No one to love.

“Hey.”

You spin back around to face the door, heart stopping upon seeing the moistness in his eyes. You hear the scratchiness in his throat as he sucks in a deep breath.

“James…”

“No, don’t — don’t say anything. I just wanted to tell you, um…” he defeatedly runs a hand through his hair and exhales shakily. “I hope we worked out, you know, in another life.”

That catches you off guard, your heart involuntarily squeezing in your chest. James looks almost embarrassed as he says it, but you see the vulnerability in his eyes. He was right — maybe there was some planet on which you were less of a coward, another world where he could put a ring on your finger. He’d been yours to lose in this life, perhaps he was yours to love in another.

You clear your throat, feeling nausea brimming in the pits of your gut. “Yeah, I… I hope so too.”

You spare yourself one last glance at him before turning towards the exit, praying he didn’t see the tears dribbling down your cheeks.

You squeeze your eyes shut and will yourself to trudge forward, before he can call out to you and break your heart all over again.

In a few long strides, you’re out the gates; out of James’ life again.

[macfrog]

san angelo | one shot

what happens when joel miller meets his star-crossed lover?

big love to @mrsmando and @5oh5 for cheering me on with this one, and @bageldaddy for being my eyes, my ears, and - only sometimes - my brain.

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader summary: it's the summer of two thousand eight. after two weeks following his little brother cross-country on the back of a harley, joel follows him through the doors of a dive bar - where fate delivers him to you. warnings: story is inserted into canon, so cordyceps outbreak happens, sarah dies (off-page), joel dissociates, doomed love, lots of mention of fate, alcohol consumption, reader is a smoker, cursing, drunken one-night stand, oral sex, unprotected piv, joel's cock is massive, a lot of angst, a lot of fluff, a lil smut to tie it all together. enjoy! word count: 9.8k

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Palm lines.

It’s the first thing he thinks as soon as she stops moving in his arms. The second her little whimpers cease, the moment her chest stops heaving and her eyes glaze over. Suddenly, Joel’s little girl weighs more than he can bear.

Palm lines. And he has no fucking idea why.

He closes his eyes and there you are. The whir of the ceiling fan, the tinkling of bracelets loose on your wrist. You have sorta earth hands, you told him. Or, well – they could be water, if you look at ‘em this way. I don’t really know. I’m still learning.

You told him that air hands were long, spindly. And Sarah was always a lanky kid – tallest on the soccer team, head and shoulders above the other girls by the third grade. Her hands, he thinks, must be air. They must be.

Her fingers are still twisted around his right now. Lifeless, slippery with the blood still wet and quickly cooling.

Joel cradles her, squeezing so hard that he wonders whether he might be able to fuse their bodies together. Lock them in some white-knuckle grip so that he never has to let go of her – never has to leave this hill covered in dirt and blood.

His palms are ruined; a maroon river carving its way down his heart line, dirt deep in the groove of his life line. Why does he even fucking remember what they’re called?

Why the fuck are you what he’s thinking about, right now?

“Tommy,” he says, opening his eyes again. “We gotta…we gotta get to…”

She’s limp, draped over his thighs as though she’s nothing more than a stretch of crimson curtain. He looks down at her and begs her to come back, begs her to open her eyes and look up at him again.

But the night is passing and she’s still not breathing. Dawn is breaking and Joel’s daughter is dead.

He sucks in a shattered breath. “…to San Angelo, Tommy.”

The younger Miller stuffs his gun into the back of his jeans and paces over, soles coated thick in shit and grass. “I hear you, Joel.”

“You ain’t listenin’ to me, I –”

“I’m listenin’ fine, Joel.” Tommy hooks his hands under his niece’s arms. “Now, help me lift her. We can’t…” his voice strains, fighting the death grip his brother has on the girl, “…we can’t leave her here.”

Joel’s frozen to the spot; sinking further and further into the earth. Staring at his open hands, the stains like rust on his palms. He says to San Angelo again, and Tommy snaps.

“Jesus, Joel, enough! I’ve heard enough goddamn it! I see your hands, now – we gotta fuckin’ bury Sarah.”

Your fate line, your nail tickled, and Joel held his hand steady, It can change, if something big is coming.

Somethin’ big? he asked. A little younger, a lot more naïve. Still a healthy dose of belief in the world, an echo of the god-fearing faith that raised him.

His hand felt so light, cradled in two of yours. He half hoped he’d never have to let go – just lie there with you forever. Your legs tangled with his, the sheets disturbed; the room injected with amber from the streetlights outside.

You nodded. A big shift, or something.

And he scoffed. He actually scoffed, right there and then. Incredulous. The hell kinda big shift is comin’ our way? he asked, laughing.

You just smiled back, shrugging. You were so fucking casual, that whole night. It would’ve unnerved him, if he hadn’t been so swept off by the sparkle in your eye, the glowing cherry of your cigarette.

Guess we just gotta wait ‘n see.

It’s August thirtieth, two thousand eight.

Almost five thousand miles on the back of a Harley, and Joel just wants to go home.

He arches his aching back, palms flat against the crests of his hips, and blinks in the light from the food mart in front of him. Twenty-six, he thinks to himself, only twenty-fuckin’-six.

It’s ninety degrees out. An uncomfortable heat, for a man who feels ten years older than he really is. For a man who hasn’t had a decent shower in almost two weeks. For a man who’s spent the last six hours tailing the brake lights of his little brother’s bike.

The sweat gathers sticky between his shoulder blades, prickles along the nape of his neck. There’s dust spattered down his bare arms and buried in the grooves of his knuckles.

He’s tired. He’s tired, he’s dirty, and goddamn, he wishes he was back home.

He holds a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun, the yellow sky melting to a purple haze. Squinting, he follows the soar of two swallows overhead, looping through the sky, until he’s rubbing the image from his eyes with the back of his wrist.

He’s gotta remember to call Sarah before she goes to bed.

The door opens with the tinkle of a brass bell older and rustier than Joel feels. A swaggering figure splits the glow from the store in two – a figure with a pack of Marlboros in one hand and an already half-empty bottle of water in the other.

Tommy holds them both out to Joel, who swipes the water with a scowl.

“Ain’t killed you yet, brother,” Tommy scoffs, stuffing the cigarettes into his back pocket. He swings a frayed-denim leg over the seat of his Harley.

Joel drains the bottle, panting as he crushes the plastic in one fist. “Damn near tryin’,” he mutters, tossing it in the trash. He runs his tongue across his bottom lip.

“Where are we?” Tommy asks. He glances over his shoulder, staring from the cracked roads to the telephone wires overhead. A Syclone pulls into the lot; a dehydrated squeal as it rolls to a halt.

“San Angelo,” Joel says. “Only a few more hours to go.” He settles on his own bike, pulling his leather jacket over his shoulders. “We passed a Super 8 coming into town, if you feel like restin’ up. Or – we leave now, be home around midnight.”

Tommy chuckles. “What’s the rush? We ain’t gotta be anywhere anytime soon.”

And Joel agrees – for the most part.

His mom is watching Sarah while they’re gone, and he reckons she’s hardly missing him. Too smart for her own good, Joel’s realizing: plotting and scheming her way into staying up past her bedtime, drinking Pepsi at dinner, watching Curtis and Viper – and swearing that her dad lets her do it all, too.

But, still. He misses his kid.

It’s the most they’ve ever been apart – time or distance. The longest he hasn’t had her climbing up his back or hanging off his arm. The least he’s been called Dad since he was eighteen years old.

He just…misses his kid.

He sighs, drumming his fingers on the body of the bike. “Tommy, I gotta get back home to Sarah.”

“Look,” Tommy says, and Joel knows that the argument is lost already, “By the time we got back, she’d be asleep anyways. Let’s leave in the morning – first thing, I swear – and we’ll be home in time for breakfast. Deal?”

They stare at one another, a stand-off in the parking lot. Both waiting for the other to break. The swallows gather on the roof of the store, basking in the weak wash of flickering fluorescents.

“Come on, brother,” Tommy pleads, “It’s one more night.” He lifts his helmet, punching it over his mop of shaggy hair, and kicks the bike to life.

Joel growls to himself, watching it drift over to the side of the road.

He considers heading to the Super 8 alone, grabbing a room only to shower and get some food, then hitting the road and leaving his little brother in the dust. Waiting for him to stumble through the door tomorrow morning – tired, groggy, probably hungover – while Joel, fresh as a daisy, drizzles syrup over Sarah’s pancakes and pours her orange juice.

He’s a pragmatic man. He’s a grown-up. Scares away the ghosts and ghouls and monsters of his daughter’s nightmares. Shushes her back to sleep in the crook of his arm, tiptoes as lightly as he can out of her room so as not to wake her.

Things like God, like the universe, things like horoscopes and laws of attraction…for the most part, Joel can do without them. Has done his whole life.

But then – the glow of indigo overhead, and the mysterious shadows lurking behind the buildings. The birdsong tittering in his ears, the twinkle of the sun in Tommy’s helmet – something distant in the dusty sphere.

Something, someone, winking at him from far away.

Something a little heavier than the breeze nudges at his spine, and Joel’s arms lift – fitting his own helmet over his head. He swings the heel of his boot into his kickstand and revs the bike, Harley roaring as it joins Tommy’s out on the boulevard.

Murphy’s is a small, green bar on the corner of an intersection. All peeled paint lettering and buzzing fluorescents – the y burnt out and pulsing.

Joel doesn’t think Tommy picked it for any reason other than the huge Lone Star mural on the side of the goddamn building, the way he tosses his thumb to it as they park up. A squint smirk on his face, muttering something like ‘s good to be home, big brother, as they hook helmets over handlebars.

Tommy leads Joel inside, their boots tacky on the wooden floor. Walls paneled by aged frames and sun-bleached photographs; air hanging thick with a smell like vinegar. The babble of slurred conversation is pierced by the sharp crack of pool balls breaking.

Metal-plate belt buckles snaked through strained jeans; low eyes which shift to size-up the two strangers. They all turn back to their fingerprinted glasses when Joel and Tommy settle into an empty booth.

It feels hotter in here than it is outside, stuffier. A thick humidity which clings to Joel’s bones, humming like the string lights draped from beams above his head.

Tommy reclines between the creaking leather cushion and the wall. He pokes at a yellowing poster of some Western, hums to himself, and then looks across the table.

Joel’s eyes loop once around the room before they meet his brother’s. “What?” he asks.

“First round is yours, old man.”

“Oh, is it, now?” He cocks an eyebrow. “Thought this was your idea?”

A weedy grin stretches across Tommy’s lips. He needs to fucking shave, Joel thinks. Whiskers poking from around his small mouth like pine needles. “’s my birthday trip,” he reasons.

And can Joel argue with that? Does he have the fucking energy? Will it get him out of here and back to Austin any quicker?

“Goddamn it,” he grumbles. He pushes himself to his feet, heels of his palms against the tacky wood.

He wanders over to the bar, tugging on the front of his tee to unstick it from his damp chest. Slots in beside an ivory cowboy hat with a pair of jeaned legs. The man fixes his bolo tie and watches Joel’s hand as he flags the bartender down.

And then he feels it.

You.

Then he feels you.

First, the weight of you – crashing some into his back. He shunts forward from the suddenness of it, knocking his ribs against the bar, and lifts a hand to brace himself on the ledge.

And then – heat, like an iron. Like every hair and freckle on your skin is branded into his the second you come into contact with him. A feeling like the roll of a wave against his spine, a hand hooked around his forearm when he begins to turn.

“Shit,” you hiss, steadying yourself on the curve of his shoulder. You glance down at your feet, clicking between your black boots. “I’m sorry, that was…that was my bad.”

“’s alright,” Joel says instantly. He holds his arm still until you let go and he sidesteps – though only a little. He watches, dumbstruck, as you rest your elbows on the bar and lean forward. His eyes linger on your back, trailing the crisscross straps wrapped tight over your spine.

You squint up at the menu pinned above shelves of crystal bottles. Your eyes move back and forth across the chalkboard, slowly descending until they’re meeting his in the speckled mirror opposite – a sweet smile growing on your lips.

It runs like whiskey through Joel’s veins: warm and dangerous.

And the way his head spins, the way the world blurs for a moment into one swipe of color around you; the way your cooing laugh echoes between his ears long after he’s heard it –

Joel’s already intoxicated.

He’s still staring when you pull back and motion to the bar. “You can go first, by the way,” you say, waving a hand. “I wasn’t cuttin’ in line. Just trying to read the drinks.”

“I’ll wait,” he replies, remembering how to be polite, how to be charming. Old cogs long out of use jerking to life inside him again. “Can’t read any of ‘em, either, anyways.”

It draws from you that same little laugh, a puff of air from your nostrils. You nod, biting your bottom lip.

He’s quickly forgetting why he’s stood in this room, why he’s in this city. He’d probably forget his own fucking name if you asked him right now what it was.

“’nother drink, darlin’?” a low voice interrupts, and you’re turning away.

Joel’s eyes follow you – a moth chasing something golden and radiant – as you face the wiggle of a snow-white mustache poking from beneath the brim of that ivory cowboy hat.

You shake your head, lifting two fingers with a bill slipped between them. “I’m good, thanks, George. Maybe next round.” You wave to the kid behind the bar – some name that Joel’s too fucking mindless to hear. Too distracted by the glint in your eye, the sparkle of your crescent moon earrings in the light.

If only he knew this feeling. If only he could put a name to it. As familiar as the sun and yet, brand new like dawn. His stomach swirls in a fleet of butterflies – as though he’s fifteen again, bumping elbows with his high school crush.

You nudge him, thumb pointing in the direction of the bartender.

Joel shakes his head. “Ladies first,” he says, heart skipping when you hold his stare.

“Nuh-uh,” you shake your head, “Told you I ain’t jumping in.”

He asks the guy for two beers, barely taking his eyes off you. “Alright,” he leans in, lowering his voice, “Then let me buy you a drink. Make up for gettin’ in your way just then.”

You prop your chin on your knuckles, grinning as you push your twenty around the wooden bar top, dodging pooled rings of alcohol like it’s an arcade game. “I don’t do that,” you say, eyes tracing the slick trail left by the bill.

“Do what?”

“Accept drinks from strange men in bars.”

His tongue presses against the back of his teeth, the taste of humor honey-sweet. “Yeah? ‘n how long have you known…” he nods to the – what is he, sixty? Sixty-five? – year-old on your right, “…George?”

Your gaze lifts, eyes wide. Apparently as impressed by Joel’s confidence as he is himself. “We’re actually in a very serious relationship. Marriage proposal imminent.”

“Damn,” he mutters as the bartender reappears with two Coors, “And here I thought I had half a chance.”

You hum to yourself, studying him. Looking from his jaw across the span of his shoulders, his wide-knuckled hands and then back to his lips. Curious and wary, judging the strange animal stood before you.

And he knows he’s weathered from the weeks on the road, and all the years before that. Dirt under his nails and the light sheen of sun on his forehead. The flecks of gray through his thick, brown beard.

You take a deep breath, eyes twinkling, and tell him, “I’m here with my friend.”

“Ain’t that lucky?” Joel glances at Tommy. “I’m here with my brother.”

You look across to the dirty blond, sat tilting a glass candle in his hand. “He single?”

Joel nods. “Is she?”

You nod.

“Alright. You wanna come sit with us?”

Your smirk answers his question. You take the beers, rings clinking off the glass. “Rum,” you call over your shoulder, wandering off, “I drink rum.”

Joel’s gaze lowers to the sway of your hips. “Rum it is,” he says, turning back to the bar.

“So…a cross-country bike trip, and you wound up in San Angelo?”

You’re on your fourth drink, the first one Joel hasn’t paid for – and he only allowed it because it’s a Diet Coke (and maybe you got to the bar first, held his wrists with one hand so he couldn’t stop you from slapping your own money down).

“Yep,” Joel replies, pinching the lime from his drink and dropping it onto a napkin. “Just passin’ through. Shower, sleep, then head on home.”

“Where’s that, then? Home?”

“Austin.”

“Austin,” you pout, “Nice.”

Joel smirks, licking citrus from his fingertips. “Is it?”

“I’ve never been to Austin,” Brooke chirps, fiddling with the umbrella in her piña colada. She twirls the paper canopy and glances up to Tommy.

He snaps out of his slack-jawed gaze when he realizes what she’s implying. “Oh – yeah, well…” his head wobbles as he stutters, “…you two ever come down that way, we’d be happy to, uh…show ya ‘round, huh, Joel?”

Joel doesn’t reply, staring back at his brother with the same amused expression you are.

You’ve been an inch apart all evening – doused in the dive bar darkness, the shrouded conversations and muffled TV static. The tip of your nose and curve of your shoulders lit only by the luminous signs dotting the walls.

Tommy and Brooke are already deep in conversation again about the best car Tommy ever owned. Joel watches as your eyes flit between the pair, entertained by the way they trip over each other’s sentences. Your cheeks lift when Brooke lays a hand over Tommy’s, and he squeezes her fingers back.

Where did you come from? Joel’s thinking. He takes a swig of his whiskey, feeling your eyes on him. As he lowers his glass, you lift yours. When he turns in his seat towards you, you’re already facing him, back against the wainscotting. He smiles, and so do you.

Every movement feels choreographed, some merry dance only you two know. You’re in your own little world.

Where did you come from, again, and where have you been my entire fucking life?

“So, what about you?” Joel asks instead, swallowing – all warm-bellied and brave. “You grow up here?”

You shake your head, taking another sip. “Nope. Just liked it enough to hang up my coat for a few months. I grew up in Phoenix.”

“You travel a lot?”

“I’ve been around. This is the longest I’ve stayed in one place since I was a kid.”

He thinks of home: of Austin and its silver-snake river, burnt-orange jerseys and the pleated bunting lining Sixth Street. He thinks of late nights on lawn chairs, nursing a beer and shooting the shit with his brother. Keeping their voices lower than the buzz of the cicadas, looking more at the dusky sky than at each other.

“You don’t ever get tired of it?” Joel asks. “Of moving around so much?”

You scoff, breath clouding the inside of your glass. “Three weeks on a motorcycle starting to get to you, huh?”

He breathes a laugh, loose again. The cicadas fade from his ears.

Your head tilts in a shrug. “I don’t know. I guess the universe keeps on surprising me.”

Joel doesn’t do this. At least, he hasn’t done this since he was a teenager – crate of beer under his arm and a chest full of courage. He’s long forgotten the feeling of heat blooming in his cheeks, the twitch of his heart anytime you look at him.

But fuck, if there isn’t something about you. Something in the way you move, the way you look at him. Something in the way you play with your straw, knocking ice cubes around and chewing on the plastic once you’ve drained the glass.

Something – though it’s a little too early and Joel’s a little too tipsy to tell just what. He tries to remember that he’s pragmatic. A grown-up. He chases away the monsters in his daughter’s –

“Oh, shit,” Joel says suddenly, scrambling to pull his cell from his pocket. It’s nine thirty. He was supposed to – “I forgot…”

A miserable tone from his Motorola cuts him short. The screen flashes an empty battery before fading to black. He jams a thumb into the keypad a couple more times, cursing at the winking symbol.

“Someone you gotta call?” you ask.

He meets your eye and winces. “Yeah, I’m…I said I’d call an hour ago.”

“You wanna use mine?” You twist around, fishing in your purse for your own. “We can go outside.”

“No, no, it’s…it’s alright, I’m sure she won’t mind, she –”

You shake your head. “Shut up. Come on, let’s go. I could use some fresh air, anyways. Be back in a minute,” you tell Brooke – who nods and turns straight back to Tommy.

Joel extends his hand to help you out of the booth, then follows you to the door. The cool air tugs every nerve in his body to attention, pin-sharp when he steps out of that lazy heat. Under the emerald glow of the Murphy’s sign, he settles his glass on a window ledge. “Next round’s on me, alright?”

You roll your eyes, pushing the phone against his chest. “Just call, Joel.”

One last apologetic glance, and then he’s dialing. He makes to wander along the curb, the tone already pulsing in his ear, when he notices –

“You ain’t brought a jacket?”

You’re sitting on the ledge, clutching your elbows. Swatting midges from the light you’re bathed in, charms on your bracelets jingling. “Hm?”

He tuts. “A jacket. Here.” He shrugs his own off, sitting it around your frame. It’s warm from the bar and from Joel’s body heat, and you sink into it – letting the dark leather drown you as you rummage through your purse again.

“Nice,” Joel’s eyes narrow, “Fresh air.”

You hum into your hands, flicking your lighter. The cigarette trembles when you murmur, “We all got our skeletons, I guess.”

He turns on his heel when a familiar voice picks up.

“Hey, hey, M–Yeah, sorry it’s late…Yeah, we got held up. My phone died, so I’m using…Is she still–? Can I–? Oh, Sarah. Hi, baby.”

His little girl begins chattering down the line immediately, telling Joel everything she’s been up to since they last spoke this morning.

“…and then, Emily thought I was one of the Armadillos – I don’t even know how, ‘cause they play in red, remember Dad? – but she did, and she slide tackled me so bad that Coach Thomson had to sub in Akari for me so I could ice my ankle. Grandma was kinda mad about it, but she took me to Burger King after to cheer me up, and…”

Joel wanders back and forth, smiling to himself and scuffing the heel of his boot along the concrete – barely able to squeeze more than two words between her chirping. It’s all, Yeah, baby? and Wow, sweetheart; all uhuhs and mhms until she finally quietens, excitement plateauing again.

“Alright, well. You know what time it is, right?”

“Yeah,” Sarah groans. She knows it all too well.

Bedtime.

“…But you didn’t call when you said you would, Daddy, and it’s Saturday, it’s –”

“I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry. Just…somethin’ came up. But I’ll see you tomorrow, right? We’ll be back before you know it.”

“Where’s Uncle Tommy? Can I talk to him?”

Joel turns to face the bar. “He, uh…I’m not with him right now, sweetheart. I’ll tell him you asked after him, though.”

Sarah concedes, and then begins asking questions Joel knows she’s only asking to stay on the line a little longer – to stay awake a little later. But still, he answers each one – humoring her and, at the same time, letting himself listen to her voice just a little more before he has to let her go.

He thinks of scooping her up in the morning; thinks of being slumped on the couch after dinner with her head on his stomach – fast asleep with whatever movie she chose droning on in the background.

Despite the thousands of miles and close to two weeks between them – she makes him feel closer to home. She always does.

When Sarah asks where he is, he glances your way. Clocks your flat expression, the half-burnt cigarette hanging from your fingers.

You flick ash to the ground. Eyes unreadable beneath low brows, a tiny crease between them that Joel’s only just seeing for the first time.

“Uh…” he clears his throat, “…just a little – a little north of you, baby. Home first thing, I promise.”

He tells her he loves her and she says it back, and he tells her to sleep well and she says that back, too. And then he’s hanging up – Alright, see you soon, bye, Sarah, bye-bye, byebyebye – and pressing his thumb into the red button.

He wanders back over to you – ears flat like a guilty dog, though he isn’t quite sure why. He mumbles a quiet thanks as he passes the phone back, then stuffs his hands in his pockets.

You lean back, ankles crossed, studying him. Swirling what’s left of the cigarette in your fingers – the smoke lifting like a winding snake to the dark sky. “So,” you pout, “What are you doing flirting with me, if you got a wife and kid back home?”

His jaw ticks, a hand coming up to scratch his beard. “I don’t have a wife,” he says.

You stare blankly, filter back against your lips. “Okay, then – a girlfriend. Does she know you’re out tonight with us?”

He shakes his head. “No wife, no girlfriend. I don’t have an anything.”

“But you have a kid.”

Joel nods once, tongue in his cheek. “Uhuh.”

And then the penny seems to drop. A small oh; your jaw slack and eyes wide. The cigarette smolders between your fingers. “Fuck,” you whisper, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“No, hey,” Joel steps closer, “You didn’t know. It’s alright.”

He straightens the jacket on your shoulders. When you finally look at each other again, you snort.

“Sorry,” you repeat, shaking your head. “Is she okay? Your daughter – is she…?”

“Sarah,” Joel says. “She’s…she’s fine. Thanks.”

You look down, stubbing your cigarette against the brick. Voice quiet, you ask, “Her mom’s not around anymore?”

Relief settles in his chest: you’re softening to him again.

Joel slots onto the ledge at your side. Shoulder to shoulder. He reaches behind and lifts his drink. “Not since she was a year old.”

Your mouth pulls in a wince. “Jesus. That’s rough.”

He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t have to – you’re not asking him to explain – and he doesn’t want to, either.

You’re not stupid – you’ve seen enough of the world to hear what he’s really saying. The darkest, dustiest corners of it – all the places no one ever wants to look.

You don’t seem disturbed, barely even moved by the reality that…well, shit happens. People leave, families break; a two-car driveway is suddenly taken up by just a pick-up truck and a little pink bike with tassels.

He figures you get it. You don’t need to know how can that be? – you just…know that it can.

“So, uh…” you look up at him again, “…my apartment is, like, five minutes away if you wanna…you know. You can charge your phone, can shower – if it’s bugging you that much.”

Joel’s eyebrows lift. “Oh, really?”

You simper, eyes thin. “Really.”

“Charge my phone ‘n shower?” He stands, palm flat against the wall above your head, and leans in. His face is inches from yours.

You look up, mirroring his expression. “Yes,” your voice curls in a half-truth, “What’s the big deal?”

“What a goddamn line,” Joel says, smirking. “How long you been sittin’ on that one for?”

His blood thrums faster, harder, louder in his veins when you stand up, hands on your hips.

“It’s not a line, I’m serious –”

“I didn’t take you as the type, baby, I really didn’t – but if that’s how you wanna play this, then –”

He feels you before he sees you moving, like he’s stood at that bar all over again. Your hands on his jaw, your chest pressed to his. Your lips – soft as satin, with a tinge of sweet rum and smoke – against his.

Joel barely misses a beat. He closes his eyes and lifts a hand to the back of your head, kissing you back. It’s dizzying, the taste and feel of you so close; the wet of your tongue on his. The little scratches of your nails in his beard, the moans caught in your throat.

Dizzying – and fucking perfect.

You break apart and lean in to each other, catching your breath. Joel’s hands slip beneath the heavy leather of his jacket onto your waist.

“Unless…” you whisper, pulling away from him, “…you don’t want to. In which case, I’ll just…” You twirl back towards the door, batting your eyelashes.

Joel smiles. He catches your wrist and reels you back into his body. “I want to,” he breathes, kissing you again. “I want to.”

“Let’s go.”

You make it to your apartment door, fumbling with your keys – and Joel’s hands are glued to your waist.

You miss the lock over and over as he kisses your neck, grazing the skin with his teeth. Anything to satiate the hunger quickly taking over, the tightening in his jeans.

He pulls you against his hips – rough denim grinding into the curve of your ass. He can smell your flowery perfume, a strange melding of peony and menthol sharp in his nostrils.

It’s the hungriest he’s ever felt, he thinks – a starved animal pinning his prey to her flecked apartment door. He pauses, bottom lip damp against your neck; breathing a liquor-laced laugh over your skin.

You jam the key into the lock. The door finally shunts open and you spill inside, dragging Joel with you.

Your place is dark. Angled strips of streetlight thrown high up the bare walls and across the ceiling, splintered by tilted shades. The spill of a blanket draped over an empty couch; a pair of sneakers left on the rug. Joel’s knees brush by a houseplant guarding the door – heavy leaves which pfft when they sway out of his way.

It’s half-decorated. Temporary. Caught somewhere between home and away. Little fragments pieced together into something the shape of home: a mosaic vase that scatters light across the surface of the coffee table; a beaded curtain pinned around the closet doorway.

Like you’re a little magpie, collecting trinkets of silver and gold until your nest feels like yours. Bags dropped long enough to keep a Monstera plant alive, not to put nails in the wall for the frames propped against the skirting board.

You shrug Joel’s jacket off, dropping it over the back of the couch. When you spin back around to him, he lifts your chin with two fingers and presses his lips to yours. You lead him down the hallway, tumbling into your room.

He follows you over to your bed, collapsing onto a tousled mess of sheets with his hips between yours. The hem of your dress rides up your thighs, bunching around your hips and revealing a flash of pink lace underneath.

The world around him seems to sober up for a second, sharpens into focus. It begins to seep in: the realization that he has you – some girl he met no more than two hours ago in a bar – pinned to your mattress. A slick gathering in your underwear and a weight building in his.

Right now, he should be sinking into squealing bedsprings in a Super 8. Bathing in the flicker of a television set twenty years too old. He should be showered and rested – ready to head home at sunrise, if not sooner.

But then something led him to you, and – well.

There’s no fucking helping him now, is there?

Joel’s fingers hook around your panties. He pulls down, leaving a trail of kisses along your bare leg, until that same pink lace is dripping from your ankle.

His eyes flash up to yours, love-drunk and sparkling. He pushes your knees apart, watching your velvet folds open for him, and – oh, he thinks, staring at the glistening arousal smeared around your cunt. Such a slick little mess for him already.

“Goddamn, darlin’,” he licks his lips, “She’s so pretty.”

You hum, hands lowering. Your fingers separate, spreading your pussy for him. Your middle finger swirls around your clit, dips along your seam. And the n, silky and shining, you lift your hand again and slip your fingers into your mouth.

“Tastes even better than she looks,” you murmur, dappling your fingertip along your bottom lip.

Joel growls. He pushes down on your thighs, ignoring your little yelp, and drags the tip of his tongue through your slit.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp, back arching. Your fingers knot in his hair, twisting and tightening. “Shitshitshit.”

“Mhm,” he hums against you, tongue pushing inside.

Fuck, you’re just so perfect: so soft and warm and fucking dripping for him. He laps at your sweet center, wet already spreading all over his mouth and beard.

A dampness blooms in his boxers. He’s throbbing, fucking aching the longer he goes untouched. He grinds against the mattress, denim rough against his solid erection.

He lifts his chin, panting – satisfied by the way you squirm under the weight of him. “You like that, huh?” he asks, a sodden kiss to your mound. “Fuckin’ love it.”

He spits a thick bead of saliva, watching it dribble down your folds to your ass. His tongue swipes it back up, circling your clit, all slippery and swollen.

“Fuck, Joel,” you moan, tugging on his hair. Your legs spasm, hips lifting.

He loves the sound of his name when you say it. Broken in two, a lilt to it as it rolls from your tongue and down his spine. Like it’s yours as much as it is his, now.

He sucks hard on your clit, his tongue flicking. And he can tell you’re close; can feel your hips starting to lose rhythm, see your back desperately arching higher and higher.

Joel groans, pushing up to hover over you. He cups between your legs, dabbing two thick fingers at your entrance, and pushes in.

Your pussy draws him in knuckle-deep. Your chest lifts, the loose neckline of your dress exposing more and more. You grab your breast, pinching your nipple – a roll of pebbled flesh between your fingertips.

He lowers his lips to your ear – watching as you toy with yourself. “Come on, baby,” he grits his teeth, “Give me one. Let me feel this pretty cunt.”

Your head rolls back into the pillow; a high sob as your orgasm crests. Clamping tight around him; a warm flood down his fingers.

Joel kisses you as you come. You look so pretty, he thinks, with ecstasy behind your eyes and his fingers between your legs.

Christ, he wants to be inside you so badly. Wants to feel your cunt do all this around his cock instead.

The blood rushes between his hips.

His fingers slip in and out, bringing you back around. Joel’s lips are on your neck, murmuring, “Good girl, that’s my girl,” as you resurface.

Your eyes open again – glossy, glazed with the aftershock of your high. “Fuck,” you breathe, playing with the hem of his shirt.

He pulls his fingers out and sucks them clean. Whips the tee over his head in one motion; another kiss tucked under your chin as you peel your dress from your body. He tosses it to the floor.

Still dazed, your body still trembling, you ask, “Do you have a condom?” All dreamy and distant, your hands trailing along his belt.

Joel pauses. Tilts his head, frowning. “I’m on a road trip with my brother, baby – the hell would I bring condoms for?”

You roll your eyes, sighing. It’s the cutest thing Joel thinks he’s ever seen. You thread the belt through the loops of his jeans. “In case you meet a really cool girl at a bar and wanna take her home, maybe?”

He lifts his eyebrows, impressed. He slips his salty tongue over yours again.

You moan at the taste. “It’s just I’m…I’m all out.”

His belt drops to the floor; buckle clinking against hardwood.

“Well, shit,” Joel whispers.

It’s not exactly a scenario he predicted, setting off from Austin. Meeting you wasn’t on the bucket list for the trip. It’s another three, four, probably five things to add to the list of shit he doesn’t do, shouldn’t do, wouldn’t fucking do if it hadn’t been for you.

No, Joel thinks, groaning as you palm the solid shape of him �� he didn’t bring a goddamn condom. Jesus, the most he has in his pockets right now is fifteen bucks and a stick of gum.

You unzip his pants, shrugging the denim loose. “We can just do it…without,” you offer.

Joel stares down at you. “You sure?”

You nod, biting your lip. “Just pull out, right?”

“Just pull out…” he echoes. Your hands are cold on his heated skin, but he’s not about to fucking stop you.

You tug his underwear down with his jeans, following the darkening hair from his navel down. Another quiet pull out passes your lips – your voice dissolving when you spot the thick base of his dick.

Joel’s shaft springs free, heavy against the inside of his thigh.

“Holy shit.” You push yourself up on your elbows, eyes flooding black.

His tongue runs along the bottom of his teeth. He thrusts forward into your hand, a glassy drop of precome dribbling from his slit.

Your thumb swipes across his flushed tip, fingers wrapping around his width. You roll his balls in your other palm, massaging and squeezing just the right amount.

“Easy, easy,” Joel whispers. Too much, too soon. He can’t come yet, not until he feels your fluttering cunt around his cock.

Instead, you reach up – snaking an arm around his neck. You pull him back down, his naked body flush against yours, and hike a knee over his hip.

He grinds into you, his cock nudging between your legs. They fall apart for him – pliant and keen, like petals unfolding. He covers himself in your slick, his tip catching below your clit.

“Pl-ease,” you whine, scratching at his shoulders.

Joel nips at your damp neck. “Please, what?” he taunts.

Your breath is hot against his cheek – a stifling request which curls up in the shell of his ear. “F-fuck me.”

And his hips roll into yours.

“Jesus f…” your face buries into his chest, “…you’re…you’re so fucking big, Joel, I can’t –”

He nudges between your walls, groaning into your skin. You’re even tighter around his cock, even cozier. “I know,” he pants, “I know. Take it, baby, know you can take it.”

You stretch around him, opening up the deeper he pushes. “Fuckfuckfuck,” you pant, the thick hair at his base finally brushing against your clit. “Fuck, Joel.”

“Look at me,” he taps your jaw, “Hey. Look at me. Breathe.”

You exhale, hot and shaky across his lips.

“Good, that’s good.” Joel nods. He holds you by the waist, lets you adjust to his size.

He pulls back, your cunt clamping around him. Halfway out, and then in again. Feeling you open up, inch by inch, until he builds a steady rhythm.

“Jesus, baby, she’s so…” he moans, “…she’s so goddamn tight.”

You drape an arm over his shoulders, a hissing pain where your nails dig into his skin. Yelping each time he bottoms out, your leaking cunt wrapped snug around him. “So – goddamn – big,” you whine, a ruined smile on your lips.

He slams his body into yours again, watching the way your tits bounce. Nipples hard, skin tacky and shining with sweat. Your pussy pinches, and he starts to unravel.

Fuck the road trip, Joel thinks, fuck all of it. This is where he should be: in the middle of your bed, burrowed deep between your legs. This is the only place he wants to fucking be, right now.

So he fucks you harder; the headboard hammering against the wall. A fistful of the pillow, his knuckles whitening. He guides his cock when he slips out – a filthy sound as your clutch sucks him back in.

“Fuck,” he growls, gripping your hips so hard he worries he might bruise you. His thrusts become sloppy – quick and desperate.

“So close,” you gasp. You’re squeezing him so tight that he sees stars. “I’m gonna – I’m…”

Perfect, Joel thinks, watching you bloom. You’re so fucking perfect.

He coaxes you through it. Slows enough to feel you come around his cock, your warmth as it gushes all over him. “That’s it, baby, I got you. Shit, you’re gonna make me come.”

He pulls out just in time to coat your stomach; a throaty groan as he comes. He pumps his shaft, covering from your sternum to the plush of your tummy. It dribbles down your waist, spurts between your breasts.

He collapses over you, pressing his forehead to yours. His dick, soaked and softening, smears the ejaculate across your skin.

You giggle, leaving sticky kisses along his beard.

“You okay?” he asks, breathless.

You nod, and his tongue dabs at the inside of your lips. You taste like sex and sweat – sweet and salt.

Joel shifts to the edge of the bed. He feels you follow, your lips featherlight on the curve of his shoulder.

You make to stand – going to clean yourself up, he reckons, your tummy dripping with his semen – and he locks a hand around your bare thigh.

“Stay,” he says, voice low and rough – sex still smoldering. “Let me get you a towel.”

You smile, resting your chin on his shoulder. Your fingers link around the other side of his waist. “I’ll get it. Just relax.”

And for a minute or two, you stay like that. Hooked onto one another, tired eyes closing over, breathing in rhythm. Your cheek on his shoulder, your knee brushing against his tummy.

It’s simple; quiet and still. Joel feels like half a person – the other half tracing her chipped nails along his bare thigh. Eyelashes fluttering, teeth holding back a grin that she thinks might give her away.

Eventually, you move. Shimmy yourself down the mattress, swipe a crinkled tee from the ottoman – and slink off to the bathroom.

Joel lies back against the headboard, body sticky hot. He watches the shadow of your figure stretch across the open door. His eyes drift upwards to the looping ceiling fan – only half as dizzying as the sound of your humming in the next room.

And just when he starts to think he might be fucking missing you, you reappear in the doorway. Leant against the frame, some worn band tee hanging from your shoulders. Arms crossed; smiling back at him.

A rush of words floods to the tip of his tongue. You look beautiful. Your makeup’s smudged, chains of your necklace twisted; your shirt is frayed and splotched with faded stains – and you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

He holds his arms out and you prance over.

You crawl over his figure, kissing your way up to his lips, and then turn in his lap. Cradled against his broad chest, your head nuzzling into the dark threads of hair between his pecs. You clasp one of his hands in two of yours.

“Offer’s still there for a shower, if you want it,” you whisper, kissing the pads of his fingers.

Joel tilts his head, mumbling against your temple, “Will you be in there with me?”

You answer something shaped like a tease, just as sharp with wit – but he’s too busy watching your nails trace his open palm. Too distracted by the sweet scent of your skin: a fresh burst of fruit, singed with the edge of tobacco.

“What do you do for work?” you ask.

He makes some sort of sleepy sound – a grunt, a hm? into your skull. “Oh, uh – I’m a contractor,” he says.

Your chin lifts. “That why your palms are all…?” Your thumb strokes light as lace against his worn skin.

“Probably,” Joel admits. He draws shapes on your thigh with his free hand.

“Do you sand the wood with your bare hands, or somethin’?”

Joel scoffs. “Alright, alright. You liked my hands plenty, twenty minutes ago.”

Your cheeks lift, a low hum caught in your throat. You angle your head to let his lips trail along your shoulder, pressing into the hinge of your jaw. A dark nail following the landscape of Joel’s skin – each score and divot, the callused pads at the bottom of each finger.

“You have sorta…earth hands, I think.”

It sits in the air for a few seconds before Joel turns to you. “What?”

“Earth hands. Or, well – I guess they could be water, if you look at ‘em this way.” You open up his hand, fingers stretched. “I don’t really know. I’m still learning.”

He looks down at you. Feels the now-steady pulse of your heart on his sternum. “Learnin’…hands?”

You snort. “Palm reading, Joel.”

His brows draw tight. He licks the inside of his whiskey-stained cheek. “You’re into all that hippie sh…stuff?”

You knock your knuckles against his chest, still staring at his hands. The hills and their valleys, the ravine-like lines; the worn skin and hatch marks.

“Let’s see…Your heart line,” you whisper – more to yourself than Joel, but he’s listening all the same. “It’s pretty deep, which means the relationships you’ve had have been…important. But it’s kinda…it tails off right here, see? It’s broken. So…I guess they didn’t end too good.”

Joel raises an eyebrow – playful, encouraging your timid smile. Keep figuring me out, he thinks, stoking the curious flame behind your eyes. “Alright,” he says, “Now tell me something you didn’t already know about me.”

You gawk, holding his wrist up. “You don’t see that? The way it breaks up? I’m not bullshitting you, Joel, it’s –”

“Naw, I see it,” he nods, squinting a little at his palm, “Just – tell me more. What’s all these other lines mean?”

“Well,” you adjust between his hips, “you got your life line right here. Short, which means –”

“Don’t tell me that part.”

“No,” you roll your eyes, “It just means you’re independent. You never needed much from anyone. And it runs past this mount – these are called mounts – right here. Venus: all to do with love and sexuality.”

Joel holds your open palm next to his, comparing them. He takes less than a second’s look, lines his lips to your ear and says, “Seem like a pretty good match to me.”

You wriggle when he tickles your ribcage, trying to twist out of his grasp. You’re laughing again – the same laugh he’s been hearing all damn night. The same giggle that’s had his stomach somersaulting since he first heard it.

The room seems to light with it, this glow he feels from you – as if you’re the sun. Spent and still half-drunk; lazing with a stranger in the middle of her bed. Tracing the lines and scars on his palm, telling him how logical and grounded he’s supposed to be.

As if the world orbits around you – everything you touch turning to molten gold. And for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, Joel looks at you and wonders: Where the hell did you come from?

You hold your hand against his, folding your fingers perfectly together. The evidence of your night flaking from Joel’s knuckles; sweat still simmering on the nape of his neck.

He hasn’t done this for years. Hasn’t felt this gentle aftermath. It’s usually a rush, a hastened zip and clink of his pants. An awkward dance, plucking clothes from the bedroom floor and pacing back to his truck.

It’s never like this. Talking and laughing, holding and kissing. Questions about his parents and yours; his biggest dream as a kid, or the time you broke your arm falling out of a tree.

He tells you stories about growing up with Tommy; tells you Sarah’s favorite flavor of cake. He tells you about the time they tried to make it for a school bake sale, forgot to turn the oven off, and almost burned the damn kitchen down.

You snicker and tell him that never would’ve happened if you were there.

Yeah, well, Joel smiles, I wish you were.

He notices you’re drifting off, despite your slurred protests and your weak grip on his wrist. He pulls you under the covers, curving his body around yours, praying that the quickening drum of his heartbeat won’t wake you.

His nose nuzzles into the curve of your skull, his hands link in front of your tummy. And he wonders whether his body was made with yours in mind.

He glances out at the sky – light starting to bleed from the horizon – and wills the turn of the sun to slow. Only a little; just let him stay here a little while longer.

Just a little while.

Dawn forces her way in eventually – more unwelcome than ever before.

There’s a throb between his temples which swells to life when the light floods past his pupils. “Jesus Christ,” he grumbles, face turning back into the pillow. He gives you a gentle squeeze and then pushes up from the mattress.

You roll to the middle of the bed, still sound asleep. The sun spills golden all over the valleys and crests of your body. The bedsheets carve pathways up to your hips, dipping at your waist.

Last night, there was something so mystical about you – so otherworldly. Joel felt himself drawn towards you like a compass needle shooting north, the second he felt your weight crash against his spine.

A figure behind a cloud of smoke, like the mountaintops disappearing into a thick mist. And now, blood drained of alcohol, you’re just you.

Your shirt is twisted around your shoulders. Your lips puffy, mumbling to yourself in your doze. Makeup smudged like chalk under your eyes, and still – just as beautiful. Just as radiant as you were ten hours ago.

Joel rubs his eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed. He blinks down at his bare feet, the morning sharpening into focus. As he lifts his phone from the nightstand, the cable drops – hitting the wooden floor with a snap.

He pauses, shoulders hunched. Hears you stir over his shoulder, and turns around.

The earth of your body shifts beneath cotton hills, clouds of sleep clearing from behind your eyes. “Hey,” you whisper, voice pretty and broken.

A little bird in the palm of his hand – that magpie curled up in her nest of gems and trinkets.

“Hey.” He leans down and kisses your cheek. “Sorry, darlin’, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You wrap your arms around his wrist, tugging. “Are…are you…leaving?”

Joel feels a pang in his chest, and he doesn’t know why. He takes a deep breath. Your scent fills his lungs and steadies his heart. “I…” he sniffs, “…I gotta go home, baby.”

You give a slow and heavy nod. “S-Sarah…”

He strokes your head with his thumb. “Yeah. Shh, go back to sleep. It’s still early.”

He glances at his phone – it’s just after six. He knows Tommy will be waiting for him, parked outside the Super 8 and wondering where the hell Joel is. He knows Sarah will be, too – sat by the living room window, listening for the rumble of their bikes.

And still, he thinks – How do I fucking leave you? Leave this?

He shouldn’t even be entertaining the thought. He has a kid waiting for him back home; soccer practice, packed lunches, homework and bedtime stories. He has work to do, bills to pay, a roof to keep over their heads. It’s all waiting in Austin, two hundred miles away.

As though you can see the question flipping in his mind, you pull him closer. A weak finger in the palm of his hand, drawing circles. Your bleary gaze meets his, and you whisper, “In the next life.”

Joel smiles. Twelve hours ago, he’d have laughed at the idea of it. Now, he’s not so sure. He kisses your knuckles, muttering, “Promise.”

Another wave of sleep washes over you, and you’re gone again.

Joel pushes himself from the bed, reaching for his clothes. His back twinges as he stretches, pulling his T-shirt over his shoulders. He steps into his jeans; pinches his belt between two fingers and lifts it from the floor.

He leans over and tilts your shades the opposite way, dulling your bedroom. He unplugs the charger, neatly winds the cord, and sits it on your nightstand. He fixes his side of the sheets: folds them over the mattress, tucks them in at your back.

With a deep breath, he makes for the door.

His jaw turns, eyes still low. Your dress is in a heap at the foot of the bed; a tube of lip gloss lying next to it. He looks up, following the landscape of sheets – the slope from your ankle to your hip. Your hunched shoulders, your cheek smushed into the pillow.

If he looks too long, he’ll never leave.

The image burns golden into his eyes. He hopes for half a heartbeat that you’ll wake again and pull him back into bed. Kiss him all over, whisper something sharp and sweet in his ear. Touch him and graze him and wrap yourself around him – anchoring him right here and now.

But you don’t.

And Joel slips out of the room.

Jackson stirs to life over his shoulder.

A white lump in the snow-covered valley, the settlement seems so far away now. Tommy sets off up ahead, leading the way to the outpost. The blizzard is picking up – it almost swallows the silhouette of him whole.

Joel had tried to warn him: the weather would be too bad to see five feet in front of them, never mind any infected. But Tommy argued with the same determination that dragged the pair of them into that dive bar thirty years ago, and Joel didn’t have half the energy nor the will to argue back.

He’s thinking about you. He always is.

Your searing gaze over the rim of your glass; the weight of you against his chest. The tickling of your nail on his palm, severing each line and changing him forever. You and your palm lines.

You were just learning to read them. Joel didn’t know a thing about any of it, and he told you so. You took his hand in yours and said, Here. Let me see.

He runs a thumb down his fate line, swaying in time with his horse. And he shakes his head with a little smile – he still remembers which one is fate and which is heart.

He still remembers all of it. He has earth hands. All salt and soil and solid as stone. His earth hands have gotten him this far, right? Twenty-five years and he’s still here. Gray and grown; stiff joints and sewn-up scars.

His head line has channeled more strangers’ blood than Joel can count. Mounts that’ve stopped breath in the throat of any man who crossed him. He doesn’t think you’d recognize his hands anymore, if your fingertips traced over them again. Broken and bruised and bloody.

And he doesn’t think he’d want you to – doesn’t want you to meet the shadow of the man you knew back then. He’d prefer you remember that same brown-eyed, soft-touched stranger with enough charm and naivety to survive anything. No need for bone-breaking fists or bloodstained hands.

Where are you, he wonders?

The answer knots deep in his stomach: the same old rope twisting into the same old shape. A fist of anger, of guilt. Some terrible cocktail of both, spilling poison through his veins.

He’s terrified to wonder what might’ve happened if he had ever made it back there. What he might’ve found in your apartment – what he might not.

Where would you have gone, that day? Would you have fled, or would you have stayed?

You were smart, he knows that much. He saw the cogs of your mind turning right in front of him, standing opposite each other in that bar. Barely thirty seconds in and he could’ve sworn you had him all figured out.

But – oh, Jesus, you were kind. Open and willing to help a stranger with a dead phone and a tired smile. Would that kindness still glow as bright against the flicker of a world on fire?

A lone hawk swoops down before him, shooting straight between the pines. Joel slips his glove back over his freezing hand.

He thinks about you every day. Every fucking day, and it never eases. Never loosens. It keeps him up some nights – the truth he’s too afraid to look square in the face.

You live now in the back of his mind like a little ghost. His little ghost – still floating around that dusty city; the warm light of life and innocence still bright in your eyes.

Tommy glances over his shoulder. He gestures ahead as if to say, Would you take a look at this goddamn storm?

And Yeah, Joel thinks, I’m lookin’, brother.

All he wants is to go home. Jackson, Austin, the bedroom of your apartment in San Angelo. Just let me go back.

He blinks, and the snow melts to cracked asphalt under a lilac sunset. Tommy’s holding handlebars instead of reins. The horses’ hot puffs of breath darken to clouds of smoke, choking from the exhaust pipes of the Harleys.

You’re somewhere on the other side of town, waiting for him in the faint glow of a jukebox. Sipping what’s left of your rum and Coke, fishing a twenty from your purse for the next round.

Just let me go back home.

He tugs on his horse’s reins and pulls off after his brother.

[a-titty-ninja]

「謹賀新年2024」 by CYI | Twitter

๑ Permission to reprint was given by the artist ✔.

[omi-boshi]

"What are you doing?" Kiyoomi asks from his place on the bed, wary.

His arms part as he makes space for you to wiggle your way onto his chest. He breathes a laugh at your antics, watches as you take his face between the palm of your hands. The grin that tugs on your lips is a little lopsided, a little cheeky.

The bright red of your lips catches the light and it is the last thing he sees before you begin your assault.

Kiss. On his lips.

Kiss. Right cheek.

Kiss. Left cheek.

Kiss. Tip of his nose.

Kiss. The moles on his forehead.

By the tenth kiss, he is roaring in laughter. The kind of laugh that you've only ever heard when he's with you. It's loud, it shakes his entire being, jostling your body that lies on top of his if not for the arms he has wrapped around you to keep you in place.

It's a little ugly, a little silly the way he snorts in between laughs, but it is offset by the unbridled joy so clear to your ears. The kisses you leave by the corner of his eyes are distorted by the way they're crinkled in laughter. From there, his grin is a permanent fixture as you continue to fill every gap on his face and neck with kisses.

As the tint on your lips slowly fades, his laughter does too, mellowing down into a dopey little smile, eyes bright. You pull back to admire your handiwork, your smile just as dazed.

One arm unravels from your waist to cradle one of your hands still cupping his cheeks. He nuzzles into the touch, eyes tracing over your features, gaze so warm you feel it on your skin. It moves you to lean in once more, to kiss him on the lips.

Longer this time.

And Kiyoomi is more than eager to reciprocate. It's heavier, wetter. More breaths, gasps, and the occasional bites. There is an attempt at deepening the kiss further; Kiyoomi's tongue tracing the seam of your lips. But the giddiness that thrums through him pulls his grin wider. Every time your teeth clash, it makes you laugh into his mouth. It is truly in vain that you try to kiss properly.

When you finally pull away, it is to Kiyoomi mirroring you and cupping your cheeks with both hands.

"What was that for?" He is breathless as he asks. The look on his face no less lovestruck than it was before. The tint on his lips was the most smeared compared to all other kiss marks on his face. It makes you giggle, amused.

"I just wanted to kiss you, is all." You kiss the palm of his left hand to emphasize. "And I wanted to try out the lipstick I bought today." You nod towards the tube sitting innocently on your nightstand.

Kiyoomi shakes his head, chuckling to himself.

He hugs you to his chest, rolling you onto your back, placing himself on top of you. He reaches for the tube of lipstick, smile growing mischievous.

"Guess it's time to return the favor."

[lololololchips]

could do some ateez ot8 boyfriend texts?? thank you so much 🩷🩷

I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS OMGGGG!!!!

finally it’s time for my babies hehe here you go:))

boyfriend texts w/ || ATEEZ

genre: fake texts, one shot au, fluff, idol!bf

warnings: kys jokes, cursing, fem pronouns, nsfw

[yoongiseesawmp3]

u got it bad - san (m)

summary: baseball player!san x reporter!reader. you've been covering your local team for years. the players, the coaches, everybody knows you. except for newbie choi san. he just joined the team, but he knows you from somewhere...maybe the bar last night?

word count: 14.5k

warnings: lots of baseball jargon, afab reader, sex (some protected some not), thigh riding, oral (barely. m receiving tho), a little cockwarming

masterlist

you love your job. as a kid, you always dreamed of working here, walking into this stadium every day, and doing what you loved most. granted, back then you were imagining yourself as one of the players, but oh well. a girl can still dream, right?

you landed the job as sideline reporter for your favorite baseball team right out of college. they wanted someone willing to stick around for a while, and you recall telling them in your interview, "if i start working here, you'll never be able to get rid of me." they loved it, and they loved that you were a hometown supporter. it made your stories more meaningful, gave you a point of view that fans could appreciate. you were able to write touching pieces on the players, give the season the dramatic arc on camera that it deserved, and you treated everyone at the team with respect. that respect went both ways, with the players, coaches, front office staff...everyone knew who you were and included you as if you were a part of the team.

you had to work hard for that respect. it didn't take long for you to prove yourself, but it did take several sleepless nights and countless overtime hours to become the reporter you are. you know everything about this team, and that's what makes you so good.

because you know eveything, you obviously know that they're close to signing star right fielder choi san. you've heard talk that it's basically done, he flew in this morning and is set to sign his contract first thing tomorrow. of course, you had memorized his past work jumping around the league as soon as the rumors started. it was your job, after all, to know these things. you knew he was great on the field, that was easy, but everyone loved him in the dugout. he's the kind of player that remembers everyone's names, brings gifts for the team around the holidays, asks about your family when he sees you. he's a stand up guy, you hear.

you've also heard that he likes to play the field outside of the stadium, if you catch my drift. he's very popular with the ladies in whatever city he deems to call home for that season, and as you walk through your favorite bar outside the stadium, you can tell the women here already know choi san is close by.

one thing you do not know is that san is in this bar, right now. yes, he's signing his contract tomorrow, but he wanted to visit the stadium today, when it was still quiet. he likes getting the feel of a team before he joins, so he wandered around the empty stadium a few times before coming here to clear his head. upon entering, he sees his face plastered on all the tvs as espn does a deep dive into what his move here might mean. he thought he was screwed, that people would immediately notice him, but so far so good. he's got a nondescript cap on and dark sweats, so he hopes his booth in the corner is enough to keep him hidden while he has a celebratory pint. he doesn't report to training until day after tomorrow, so he thought he could treat himself tonight.

as he sits and drinks, soaking in the atmosphere, he has to laugh. he wants to stay hidden, but really, with his likeness and his entire career plastered on every screen above the bar, you'd think someone would know. at least look at him and make a comment about the resemblance. but it doesn't seem like anyone here knows a thing.

except you. as you sit at the bar, swirling the straw in your glass, you take a look around. there's some regulars that smile and wave, but for the most part it's not that busy. maybe that's what makes him stand out more. your eyes fall on choi san, all star right fielder and the newest member of your team, trying to hide in the corner. but his sharp eyes and broad shoulders alert you immediately that the subject of all your recent studies is here. and he's staring at you. you stare back, and he quirks an eyebrow, almost like a challenge.

you take the bait and make your way to his table.

"anyone sittin' here?" you ask in a slight southern accent, and san smiles. it's been a while since he played in the south. he forgot how charming it can be. maybe he'll catch himself a southern belle while he's here.

"saved it for you," he smirks, and you hum as you sit across from him. he sees your almost empty glass and states, "looks like you need another."

"ah, i probably shouldn't," you shake your head. "got an early morning."

"me too," san nods, that smirk still comfortably on his face. "so what's your name, beautiful?"

"y/n," you reply. you try not to let your heart flutter at the nickname, or the way he's staring at you, but it's hard. "yours?"

"san," he says simply. "you from here, y/n?"

"born and raised," you answer. "you new to the city?"

"you could say that," he sighs. "just moved here for work, but i've visited a couple times."

"how are you likin' it so far?"

"to be honest?" he makes a face. "it's kind of boring."

"excuse me?" you're taken aback. you don't take kindly to people badmouthing your hometown, and you don't like the mischievous spark in san's eyes as he continues.

"well, girl as pretty as you not taking me up on my offer of another round, that's no fun is it?" he teases.

"ahah," you laugh halfheartedly. "sure, i can see why that would upset you."

"i'm not upset, doll, just disappointed."

"well, hate to disappoint you further, but i really do have an early morning," you say as you start to rise. "just saw a stranger sittin' all by his lonesome and thought i would say hi."

"i'm glad you did," san raises his glass to you. "maybe i'll see you around?"

"maybe," you shrug, trying to bite back a smile. "nice meeting you san."

you feel his eyes on you as you return your glass to the bar, waving goodbye to the bartender before you head to the door. you turn before you leave, meeting san's eyes across the room, and you just smile to yourself as you step outside.

-

san is the first one in the clubhouse the next day. he loves the smell of an empty locker room, untainted by the man stench that inevitably comes with a roomful of athletes. he smiles warmly as he walks in and sees his locker decorated in welcome. he's looking through all the gifts, some regulation equipment he asked for and some just goodies from the team, as the players start slowly arriving.

the first to arrive is jongho. he's the catcher, and san finds it easy to talk to him. he seems quiet, but most catchers are the stoic type, so maybe jongho will open up to him in time. the next guy in has the opposite issue. wooyoung, the shortstop, immediately claps san into a hug, babbling a mile a minute about how great it's gonna be to have him on the team.

san gets stuck talking to wooyoung for a while, which he doesn't mind. they get along quickly, but as they talk the rest of the team trickles in. hongjoong, the second baseman, waves to san from across the room. seonghwa, the left fielder, carefully places his things into the locker next to san's, then gives san a wordless handshake and a warm smile. yunho, the first baseman, is spread out at the locker to san's right. mingi, the third baseman, is next to him. wooyoung finally leaves for his locker next to hongjoong, and next to him is yeosang, the center fielder. pitchers must not report today, because san scans the room and counts eight.

he checks the time and notices he's almost late for his press conference, so he gets to work getting dressed before someone appears at his side to escort him down the hall. she works in media relations and gives him the run down of the conference, explaining that the coach will do a quick intro before san comes up to say a few words. they'll shake hands, he'll sign his contract, and then take a few questions before reporting to more press stuff. nothing he hasn't done before, but san still brushes his sweaty hands on his pants to calm his nerves as they enter.

san hears the chatter of the press die down as their eyes fall on him. it's a big room, lots of reporters and cameras, and he smiles and waves as he gets ushered to the side of the makeshift stage in the front. the coach steps up then, welcoming everyone and giving a bit of insight on why they wanted to sign san. this team desperately needed a right fielder, so in all the negotiations it was basically just their operations team begging san to come play for them. the coach paints it a different way, and san does his best to grab onto a few phrases so he can sprinkle them into his own speech. the coach calls him up and san takes a seat next to him, falling smoothly into his regular "happy to be here, excited at the opportunity" spiel. he scans the room and recognizes a few faces, so he gets more comfortable as he goes on.

"i think at the end of the day, i'm looking for a team that i can be with for a long time," san starts to conclude. "and so far, i'm really liking it here. maybe this will be that team."

he goes through the motions of signing, shaking hands, posing for pictures, and then settles back into his seat for the question portion. at his other teams, he's been allowed to pick the press he talks to, so he scans the room for familiar faces, but media relations steps in and starts calling names. the first one takes him by surprise, and a smile grows on his face as he sees who steps up.

"y/f/n, local news," you smile back at san as the recognition crosses his features. "you said you're liking the city so far? can i ask what makes you think this team, this franchise, will be the one to make you stay?"

"you were at the bar last night," he responds, and you feel yourself blush. a chuckle ripples through the crowd of reporters as san goes on. "sorry, just. this is a surprise, is all."

"i agree," you quip back. "because yesterday you told me you didn't like this city. so i'm just wondering what made you change your mind."

"honestly? the people," he answers sincerely, holding your gaze. "it's hard to explain, but things feel...different here. i've never been with a team where the players are so welcoming, the staff is so kind, and the reporters are hanging out at local bars after hours." another laugh. "so i think this franchise might have more of the culture i've been missing from those other teams i've played for. that answer your question, y/n?"

"yep," you give him a satisfied nod. "happy to have you here, san."

"happy to be here," he smiles, and you swear the lights from all the cameras make his teeth sparkle. he keeps staring at you as media relations calls for the next question, and only when his attention is no longer on you do you realize that your heart is beating too fast.

-

today's only a press day for the boys, there's no actual training that needs to happen, but that doesn't mean the clubhouse is calm. no, actually, there's more people here than there will be for the rest of the season, what with all the camera crews and a few stylists running around. oh, and the fact that everyone who works here wants to get a peek at choi san. he left the press conference and saw a group down the hall, staring and whispering. san wasn't sure which way to go to find the locker room, so he approaches the group with a smile. turns out it's front office staff, part timers, anyone who works here that needed to see san with their own eyes to believe he's really playing here. he's charming as ever, learning everyone's names, signing things, taking pictures. he even stands by happily as an older woman calls her grandsons, and they laugh together as the little boys squeal in excitement.

san stays until everyone has what they wanted, which must have taken a while, because he sees the press trickling out toward the exit. he keeps his eyes peeled for one person in particular, and when you pass through the doors and turn san's way, he smiles. you stop, eyes focused on the notebook you're furiously scribbling in, so you don't see him. that won't do, san thinks, so walks over and stops in front of you with a sigh.

"what do you want san," you ask it as a statement, eyes not moving from your notes.

"how'd you know it was me?"

"i know everything," you look up then, meeting his smile with one of your own. "and you've got cleats on, so i knew it wasn't anybody from your fan club coming to ask for my notes."

"my fan club?" he laughs, but you can tell it boosts his ego. "i think they're just fans of the team."

"are you always like this?" you ask thoughtfully, and san says he doesn't know what you're talking about. "you're not cocky, but you're humble, and you're cocky about being humble. does that make sense?" you stop to scribble that down, and san tries again to see what else you've written. you catch him this time, tugging the notes just out of his line of sight. "don't you have pictures to take?"

"how'd you-"

"i told you, i know everything," you joke again, taking a moment to stuff your pen back in your bag. that leaves your notebook unattended, and san snatches it, running a few steps down the hall with evil glee. you stomp after him and fail in grabbing it from his eager hands.

"hey, this is good," san reads, his eyes scanning the paper. "you write all your stuff by hand?"

"depends," you shrug. "i started getting bored at the end of that talk and i needed to organize my thoughts."

"oh i can tell you were bored," san smirks, his eyes flicking to you. "i like the doodle of me."

"that doodle could be of anybody," you say as you finally snatch your notebook back. you put it securely in your bag as san continues to look smug.

"i think it was a doodle of me," he says as he starts walking away. "if you ever want me to sit for another portrait, you know where to find me, doll."

"where ya goin'?" you ask him, and he stops. he looks down the hall in front of him back towards you with his thumb pointing behind him.

"to the locker room?"

"that's this way dummy," you point, and you're pleased to see his ears turn red as he corrects his steps. you're heading to the exit, so you walk in the same direction briefly. san slows his steps to keep up with you, and he's so close that his hand keeps brushing yours.

"looks like this is where i leave ya, doll," he sighs, and you wave as you keep walking. "i'll see you soon?"

"you'd like that wouldn't you?" you turn around with a smirk, watching san as you push through the doors to the parking lot. "bye san."

-

san loves the first practice of the season. he loves the feeling of walking onto a brand new field, seeing the empty stadium ahead. at his his other teams, he's had to make this walk alone, his former teammates usually more reserved or too good to talk to him. not here, though. as he takes the field, he finds himself engrossed in a deep argument with jongho and wooyoung about the best world series team of all time, and san feels giddy. he feels like he did when he was a kid, playing ball with his friends, and it's only the first day of practice! imagine what an entire season here would be like. every day, san is thankful he made this move.

another reason for san to be happy he's here is, well, you. working with the press at other teams wasn't exactly a thrill, but rather a part of the job he had to get through. here he's eager to give a statement, always willing to join a press conference, just to have the chance of messing with you.

as he makes the long walk to the outfield for warm ups, san sees someone by the visitor's dugout who's not in uniform. he squints a little in the early morning sun and sees that it's a woman, but assumes it's someone from the front office. he keeps walking, but a laugh echoes out and san turns back to this mystery woman.

"y/n?" he shouts, holding his glove over his eyes to see if that'll block out the sun. sure enough, you turn from your talk with the managers to send him a wave, and that giddy feeling san had walking onto the field is back. "what are you doing here?"

"my job!" you shout back, and with that you go back to work. one of the coaches jogs by san then, tossing a baseball in his direction.

"stop shoutin', son," he says. "go throw that in left field. seonghwa will take you through the warm ups, then we'll come together for drills."

"yes sir," san nods, jogging over to his teammate. he steals one last glance at you, and he swears the sunlight makes you glow.

-

san is exhausted after practice. he knew playing for this team would challenge him, but damn. he's sore and it's only the first day! he's still catching his breath as the team mills about around him, and yunho smirks as he alerts the boys to san's condition.

"i think we wore the superstar out," yunho laughs, and san throws one of his sweaty towels at him. yunho screams and tosses it back, but mingi jumps in to grab it. "what the hell are you doing?"

"this is a sweaty towel used by the choi san," mingi says with importance. "do you know how much i could sell this for?"

"guys, come on," san laughs, snatching the towel back. "i'm not a superstar."

"says the superstar," wooyoung mumbles, and san contemplates throwing the towel again but decides not to, mingi is still close by.

"no, we get it," hongjoong assures him. "just because the press is saying that doesn't mean it's true. you're a part of the team, so you're a team player, right san?"

"yes, exactly-"

"please, i hope everybody is decent!" a familiar voice shouts from the doorway, and san smiles when he finds you standing there. you've got your notebook over your eyes to hide any naked players, but a quick sweep tells san that everyone is dressed for the most part.

"wait, wait!" jongho shouts as he fights to put a clean shirt on. some of the boys chuckle at him while san says, "dude, she's probably seen a guy shirtless before."

"but she's a lady, san," jongho insists. "it's not polite. and i don't like to have my nips out when i'm giving quotes."

"that's why he's my favorite," you say, finally risking a peek. "all good?"

to be honest, san is a little shocked you're here. it's kind of odd for a reporter to be in the locker room after a regular practice, but he trusts this team and how they run things. most importantly, he trusts you. but his shock holds true as you greet the team while making your way straight toward him.

"aw, she's just here for superstar," mingi pouts, and you make him hush.

"i have to publish my story on him today and need to check quotes," you explain. "i'm coming for you next, mingi."

as mingi celebrates, you surprise san further by walking right up to him and taking the seat by his locker. you're flipping through your notebook as he watches you, and after a few seconds you look at him then pat the bench next to you.

"come on, get cozy," you tell him. "you spoke too fast yesterday and i didn't catch all of your answers."

"because you were too busy doodling?" san teases, taking a seat exceptionally close to you.

"that was after you," you explain, but san sees your ears turn red. "can you look through this and tell me if anything rings a bell?"

"y/n, you may be good at your job, but you have shit handwriting," san says after staring at the page long enough for your chicken scratch to make his head hurt. some of the boys near him laugh, and yunho pops his head in to take a look.

"oh yeah that's illegible," yunho confirms. "cute drawing of san, though."

"go away yunho."

"yes ma'am."

you're able to piece together what san said in the press conference, so once you're satisfied you take a moment to type up the changes into your phone. you send the story off to your editor, but then start working through who else you need to talk to today. san is watching all of this, and when your eyebrows furrow in concentration, he leans in.

"i know what you're thinking," he whispers, and you have to shake from your concentration to look him in his sneaky eyes.

"what?"

"i said i know what you're thinking," he repeats with a shrug. when you don't respond, he keeps going. "i bet you're wondering, hm, is san free tonight? well, i am."

"i can't use that for my story," you tell him, and he bumps his shoulder into yours.

"this is when you say if you're free."

"is it?" you ask, gathering your things so you can move on to the next player. "i'm not quite sure about that yet."

"whatever, doll," san smiles. "you know where to find me."

-

you did know where to find him. you knew he would be at the bar tonight. you knew he wasn't supposed to be there, and you knew you shouldn't go looking for him but you couldn't help yourself. after all, you've got to take yourself out for a drink - you filed your first story of the season today. you deserve to celebrate!

as soon as you walk in you can tell it's a mad house. the bar is packed, and it reminds you of how busy it gets after a game. you wonder if it's just preseason excitement that has so many people here, but you don't wonder long. you're here for a drink, so you squeeze between two guys at the bar and wave the bartender down. everyone here knows you, so you get to cut the line.

"hey y/n," he smiles as he walks up. "want your regular?"

"yeah, but top shelf tonight," you tell him. "finished my first story of the season today."

"is it any good? maybe i'll read this one," the bartender jokes as he gets to work.

"i didn't know you could read," you tease, and you smile when he tosses his head back in a laugh. the sound draws someone's attention, but you're too busy flirting with the bartender to notice.

"and to think i was gonna pay your tab myself," he shakes his head.

"put whatever she gets on mine," someone says at your side, and you physically jump when you recognize who it is.

"san?"

"told you to come find me, doll, why are you surprised i'm here?" he smirks. you can tell he's wearing league issued workout clothes, but to the regulars in the bar he's just some dude in sweats. he's got a ball cap pulled low over his eyes, and if he didn't have such striking features you'd say he was blending in pretty well. "i thought we were getting a drink together."

"are we?" you ask. "because i don't recall you actually asking me." san dips his head, knowing that you caught him in a lie.

"can i get whatever she's drinking?" san asks the bartender as he finally places your drink down, and your mouth hangs open in surprise.

"what's this sparkly shit for?" you ask, flicking at the gold pompom on the toothpick poking out of your cup. there's also swirls of gold in your drink, and the bartender shrugs.

"you said you were celebratin'," he explains. "wanted to make sure the drink rose to the occasion."

"well thank you," you say as you lift the drink to your lips, mostly to hide your blush. san is watching this interaction next to you, doing a horrible job of hiding his disgust.

"here's your drink man," the bartender says, plopping a cup down in front of san. "her's was on the house. i added yours to your tab."

"how generous," san smiles, tipping his cup toward the bartender as he walks away. san turns to you slowly, and says, "he's nice."

"you shouldn't be here."

"why, am i interrupting your date?" san quips.

"no," you roll your eyes. "you shouldn't be seen here. lots of fans, you'll probably get stopped for pictures, autographs, kissing babies..."

"they don't let babies into bars, y/n," san smirks at you. "but thanks for looking out for me."

"isn't against team rules for you to go out during the preseason anyway?" you ask, knowing full well it is.

"i don't like following rules," san shrugs.

"oh so that's why you've played for six different teams in five years?" it's your turn to quip, and san whistles.

"you got me there, ace," he sighs. "so what's this about you celebrating tonight?"

"that's nothing," you try to brush it off. "i sent in that story about you, remember? well, it got approved, so i have a tradition of taking myself out for a drink here when my first story of the season is filed."

"taking yourself out?" san shakes his head. "no, no no no. that won't do. i'm getting you another drink, unless your boyfriend tries to pay for it again, and then we're going out."

"you have to report to practice at 7am," you remind him, and he groans, dropping his head on your shoulder.

"you knowing everything about the team is totally ruining my game."

"aw, you did a fine job of that yourself," you coo, patting his cheek. you cup his chin and pull him back up, and you hide a smile when you notice the blush on his cheeks. "maybe you can owe me? take me out for real?"

"i'd like that," san nods.

"i knew you would," you tease, and san reaches an arm out to pull you into his side. he over calculates and accidentally smacks the guy behind you, who turns around in a drunken haze ready to fight.

"what the-" he starts, anger in his swimming eyes. when they land on san, you both see recognition take over his features in slow motion. "holy shit y'all! it's choi san!"

"come on," you grab san's arm, tugging him in the opposite direction. you think there's an entrance out the back, so hopefully the two of you can squeeze through the masses before too many people catch on. as you drag san behind you, you hear the bar goers talking about the star in their midst. some drunk lady grabs sans arm and won't let go, and he won't shake her off like you tell him to. you get caught, the exit you were hoping for just in the distance. people start crowding around san, trying to wedge between you, but he won't let go of your hand. he finishes signing a bar napkin for a guy who definitely used a fake to get in here, and then you're pulling san along again. the crowd is starting to push, and they're all drunk. and rowdy. and loud.

"aw, look, he's already got himself a bitch!" someone shouts, watching you cling onto san as you push him toward the exit. he stops cold, looking around for the drunken idiot. he reinforces his idiocy by stepping forward, slurring his words as he says, "didn't take you long, son-" *hiccup* "always got sluts lookin' for ya-" *hiccup* "she's a pretty one too-"

before you register what he's doing, san shakes you off of his arm. he steps closer to the man, and you feel yourself calling his name, but in the chaos even you can't hear yourself. san pulls his arm back and clocks the man in the face, splattering blood from his now probably broken nose.

"SAN!" you shout, yanking him back toward you. "let's GO."

adrenaline and shock give you the strength to drag a stunned san out of the bar, but it's so packed there were people in the alley already. they weren't aware of what went on inside, so you're able to tug san around the corner. you rush him toward the parking deck, and thank your lucky stars you moved your car from the employee lot earlier. you shove san into your passenger seat, slamming the door shut so you can rush to the driver's side. as you start the car, you look to the side and see san sinking further into the seat.

"i fucked up," he whispers. you hear a quiver in his voice, but you don't press him. "fuck. i'm gonna get kicked off the team. am i gonna get arrested?"

"you won't get kicked off the team," you tell him softly. "and i'll call the bartender in a minute, explain it to him. just pray that asshole you punched doesn't press charges."

"y/n, i'm so sorry," san says, looking to you with a scared look in his eyes. "i just. i couldn't let him talk to you like that."

"thank you san," you say sincerely. "let me see your hand."

"no, it's fine," he insists, but when you touch it he flinches.

"fuck san, how are you gonna play tomorrow?"

"i'm so losing my job," he shakes his head, sitting up like he's going to leave.

"whoa, where are you going?"

"i have to go apologize," he says, trying to open the door but struggling to do it with his hurt hand. "shit, i have to pay for our drinks, and my car! i need to-"

"san," you say sternly, and he looks to you again with those sad eyes. "i'll fix it. ok? do you trust me?"

"yes," he nods vigorously.

"good," you nod back. "can you buckle your seatbelt or do i have to do that too?"

"where are we going?" san asks after securing his seatbelt. it's a good thing he did, because you whip your car out of its spot so fast his body slams against the strap. "seriously road runner, where are you taking me?"

"we need to fix your hand," you tell him. "i live close by, so i'll fix you up and then in an hour or two i'll bring you back for your car."

"thank you," san says. "you're saving my ass."

"just be really good this season, ok?" you ask him. "it'd be fun to watch my team win for once."

"anything for you, ace."

-

a few minutes later, you've got a sheepish all-star perched on the edge of your tub as you stand over him and wipe the blood from his hand. you already sent a text to the bartender, so that's cleared up. apparently, san was doing everyone a favor by punching that guy. no one likes him, so san's not in any trouble with the bar. chances are the guy won't press charges either, he tends to start shit around town so the cops wouldn't necessarily be on his side.

the main issue now is the team. there's pictures and videos floating around, and you were right, san wasn't supposed to be out tonight. he's got a missed call from hongjoong already, and you're helping san figure out what to say to the coaches now.

"just own up to it," you tell him. "they'll appreciate the honesty. and tell them you beat that guy up because he was being mean to me, that'll help your case too."

"no," san shakes your head. "i'm not bringing you into this. i don't want to hurt your reputation."

"do it," you shrug. "i was there. i was part of it. if you don't tell them now, i will tomorrow when i do their preseason interviews."

"are you sure?"

"yep," you reply. "it'll help take some of the heat off of you. sources tell me not everyone is sold on you yet, but if they know you were defending my honor it'll get you some respect in the clubhouse."

"do you have blackmail on all these guys?" san jokes as he tries to focus on typing a text with one hand. you're done wiping the blood from his knuckles, and you've found a small cut on his hand that you need to cover. you step away for a second to bend down in front of your sink, searching through the cabinet below. san tries to hide that he's staring, but he does a poor job. he watches still as you stand up and tear open a bandaid, but he scoffs when he sees what's on it. "you are not making me wear a hello kitty bandaid."

"so you want to get infected?" you ask as you put the bandaid on him anyway. you trace your thumb over it softly, making sure it's laying flat, but you realize how tender this moment is. you're holding san's bruised hand in yours, standing so close to him that your legs are between his spread ones. you take a step back, but san uses his free hand to grab you by the waist.

"where you going, doll?" he whispers, looking up at you softly.

"you need an ice pack," you whisper back.

"you're not gonna kiss it to make it better?" he pouts, and you laugh to hide the way your heart skipped a beat.

"that doesn't work you know," you say as you bring his hand to your lips regardless. you place a delicate kiss to his soft skin, holding eye contact with him to watch his reaction.

"you're right, that didn't work," he sighs, and you start to let go. "maybe this will?" he asks, bringing you closer before cupping your face and pulling you down to his lips. he kisses you once, separating from you with a satisfied look on his face. "there. i'm all good now."

"nice," you squeak. "was this all an elaborate ploy to make me kiss you? because you could've just asked."

"really?" san asks gleefully. "will you kiss me?"

"just did."

"again," he pouts, and you lean down to kiss him quickly. he uses both his hands to hold you in place, his lips caressing yours as he lets out a quiet hum. he pulls back just to lean his forehead against yours and says, "yeah, that's got healing power baby."

"you still need ice," you tell him, stepping back before he can grab onto you again. "come on. maybe we can kiss some more in my kitchen?"

-

san ends up sleeping on your couch. he wouldn't let you leave after fixing up his hand, insisting that you've done enough for him tonight. he'll deal with his car in the morning. you tried giving him the bed, but it barely worked. he wouldn't even let you finish your sentence before he started covering his ears and shaking his head. you gave him an innocent kiss goodnight after setting him up with more pillows and blankets than one guy needs, and you both went to sleep.

except, he wasn't there when you got up. you set your alarm earlier than you planned, but even then you walk into your living room to find all the pillows stacked and blankets neatly folded. the only sign that san was here. well, that and the breakfast he ordered that waits for you on your kitchen table.

san had to be the first one at practice, so he couldn't wait for you to wake up. he also couldn't burden you more than he already has, so he woke before dawn and got to work. his hand feels fine, not great, but he thinks he can get through practice. he's rehearsed what he's going to say to the coaches, the team, the press, and he hopes it's enough.

-

most of your work for the day will take place in a smaller media room that's been set up for your one-on-one interviews with the coaching staff. that means you have no reason to linger outside the locker room, hoping to see san and check that he's ok. you distract yourself by going over the notes for the first interview, and before you know it, there's a knock at the door. it's the pitching coach, one of your favorite people on the team. he pokes his head in and smiles, so you welcome him as you dive into the same spiel you always do for these interviews. you're a pro, and the guys know what they're doing too, so it should be easy going. but as soon as you sit down to start, the coach stares at you with a look that's up to no good.

"so you were out with san last night," he states.

"i wasn't out with him," you explain. "we happened to be at the same bar."

"i heard he wrecked his hand defending you," the coach continues.

"he wrecked it?" you ask, more concern in your voice than you probably needed. "will he be able to play?"

"he'll play just fine," he nods. "don't you worry. we all heard what happened. shoot, some of the coaches and me were sending the videos back and forth last night. i tell you what, the boy's an idiot, but we've let men get by with worse. like i said, don't you worry."

"good," you breathe in relief. "then should we get started?"

-

it was a long day, after an incredibly long night, so when it's time for you to leave you're exhausted. you've been all over the place today, trying to keep up with your schedule, tracking people down for interviews, and you misplaced your notebook at least four times. you can't wait to get home, shower, and immediately go to sleep, but as you approach your car you realize you've lost your keys.

"shit," you hiss, dumping most of your bag out onto the hood of your car. you're mining through all your junk, wondering if it's too late to head back inside.

"hey," san says from behind you, and you jump.

"jesus!" you whip around to stare at him. "you scared me!"

"sorry ace," he smiles sheepishly. "thought you heard me coming."

"obviously not!" you screech, your heart still racing. "what's up?"

"looking for these?" he asks, dangling your keychain in front of you.

"oh my god you're a life saver," you sigh in relief, taking the keys from him gratefully. "how did you know these were mine?"

"i recognized them from last night," he shrugs. "and from the mascot keychain. i remember someone saying they had a childhood obsession with phil the bucket?"

"stop paying so much attention to me, could you?" you ask as you start shoveling your things back into your purse.

"here, let me help," san says as he joins you. he holds your purse open as you slide its contents back inside. "i owe you from last night, so consider this my starting point."

"the starting point?" you smile at him, and he nods.

"yep," he says nonchalantly. "first i found your keys, now the bag thing, and next, i don't know, maybe i take you to dinner?"

"hm, tonight?" you ask, and he nods again. "i have plans."

"then cancel them," san replies. you can tell he's joking by the glimmer of mischief in his eyes, but you know he really wants you to say yes.

"where would we go?"

"somewhere nice so i can spoil you," san says simply, closing your purse and walking to the driver's side of your car. "can i pick you up in thirty?"

"thirty minutes isn't enough time to get ready for a date, san," you frown.

"yeah, but any longer and i'll miss you too much," he pouts. you cup his chin and bring that pout to your lips, kissing him softly before you pull away.

"did that buy me another thirty?"

"twenty," he replies. "maybe twenty five if you promise to wear something sexy."

"deal."

-

as promised, san is outside your building exactly fifty five minutes later. you worried that not having his number and vice versa would make it hard to coordinate, but you're surprised when you check your phone and find that he texted you.

"i'm outside, ace," his text reads. no 'this is san' or anything to identify himself. you know it's him, so you tell him you're coming out.

you worry briefly you won't know which car is his, but as soon as you step outside you let out a soft laugh. of course he's got the most expensive car here, and of course he's leaned against the passenger door waiting for you. he lets out a low whistle as you approach, and you could act coy, but the reporter in you has to ask, "how'd you get my number, san?"

"i'm not giving up my source," he smiles smugly, opening the door for you. "you look incredible."

"it's nice seeing you in something other than baseball clothes for once," you reply. you take his hand and let him help you into the car, watching intently as he crosses the front to reach the driver's side. you're turned to him when he sits, and ask, "seriously. was it hongjoong? one of the coaches? you know they'll be on your ass if they find out you took me on a date."

"i'm not telling," san smirks again. "you gonna buckle your seatbelt or you need me to do it for you?"

"why, you a bad driver or something?" you tease.

"says the woman who gave me whiplash last night."

"i was trying to make a quick getaway before you got stormed by adoring fans again," you remind him.

"always looking out for me," he shakes his head. "i think someone has a crush." you don't respond, instead looking out the window to hide your smile. "you not saying anything isn't helping your case."

"no comment?" you reply, feeling proud at the blush on san's cheeks when you turn back to him. "so where's the superstar taking me?"

"san, the very nice young man you agreed to go out with, is taking you to one of his favorite restaurants," he replies.

"you've lived here like a week, how do you already have a favorite restaurant?"

"there was a place in one of the cities i used to play in, i went there every week," he explains as he drives. you catch yourself staring, but he doesn't seem to mind, so you continue. "the nicest staff. best food. always packed. then one day, it's gone. the owner and his wife moved so they could be closer to their daughter while she was at school, and they ended up here. he gave me a call as soon as my trade was final." you guess a couple places it could be, but they're all wrong. "so ms. know it all doesn't actually know it all?"

"don't call me that," you groan. "there's plenty i don't know."

"enlighten me, ace."

"i can't do math to save my life," you admit, and that gets a laugh out of san. "i don't know how to fold a fitted sheet. and don't tell anyone, but that new stat all the baseball pundits are talking about? it makes no sense to me."

"oh, that's easy," san says, and he falls into a comfortable conversation about baseball. you always wanted this from the guys you date, but despite your work, most guys assume that you don't know anything about sports because you're a woman. you're grateful that you don't feel that way around san, and you start to relax a little bit. you're not on a date with superstar outfielder choi san, you remind yourself. just san. just a, what did he say, a very nice young man?

that niceness continues when he parks his car, rushing to your door to get it for you. he takes your hand to help you out and doesn't let go as you walk in, and you're genuinely shocked that you haven't heard of this place before. it's fabulous, beautiful inside and out, and as soon as you walk in you're hearing san's name called. but this time it's not a fanatic, just a kind looking man and his wife.

"sannie!" she exclaims, pulling him into a soft hug. "oh, it's so nice to see you again. we were so happy when we heard you were coming here. i think it'll be good for you."

"me too," san agrees. he turns to the man then, the owner, and they exchange a manly handshake and similar pleasantries before he turns to you. "this is y/n, by the way. star reporter, loved by all-"

"and way out of your league," the owner winks at you. you feel yourself blush as san agrees, and then he's escorting you to your table. as you walk through the restaurant you notice it's surprisingly empty. didn't san say their last place was always full?

the owner helps you with your seat as his wife explains the specials, but you don't see a menu anywhere. you look at san quizzically and he gives you a look that says he'll explain shortly. after some more kindness, the owner and his wife are gone, and you get a chance to really take this place in.

"if you're wondering where the menu is," san starts, "they won't give us one. they never let me order when i come here, they just decide for me. and it's the best food i've ever had, each time."

"can't wait," you smile at him. "is this place as popular as their last one, you think?"

"i know it is," san nods. "that's why i booked it just for us."

"what?"

"i told them i was bringing a date and they offered to stay open late for us," he shrugs. "i hope that's not weird?"

"no," you reply. "i'm sure they're used to it by now."

"used to what?"

"you bringing dates here," you answer. "i can't be the only lucky lady you've done this with."

"well consider yourself lucky, ace," he says. "you're different."

"like can't be seen in public with me different?" you tease. "san, i'm flattered."

"no ace," he laughs. "i wanted this to be special, but if you want a crowd i can call the team-"

"no," you cut him off, grabbing his hand that's laid out on the table. "i like this. it's nice."

"told you i was gonna spoil you, doll," san smiles. "get used to it."

"should i?" you challenge, but san just continues smiling as a waiter brings by your drinks. you feel your walls falling more and more as the night goes on, as you and san eat some of the best food you've ever had. he's fun to be around, you think. maybe you'll give him more of a chance than you were expecting.

"so. i have a question," san says after the plates from your meal are cleared. you're waiting for dessert, but you're not sure you can eat much more.

"shoot," you tell him. "i ask you plenty, so ask away."

"in the locker room, yesterday i think? you said jongho was your favorite," he finishes with a pout.

"that's not a question," you laugh. "you'd be a shitty reporter."

"compared to you, everyone is," san replies. "but i meant, why is he your favorite? were you serious or just joking?"

"if i had to pick a favorite," you start, "i think it would be jongho. i've always liked catchers, so that works in his favor. he's fun to watch, and a lot of fun to work with."

"you have a thing for catchers?" san teases. "why?"

"not a thing," you say, wishing you could kick him underneath the table. "but maybe? i don't know. catchers do have really nice thighs."

"and outfielders?" san tries.

"never stood out to me," you reply. "it's either catchers or third basemen." you start to explain how your favorite player of all time, the one who got you into baseball, played third base, and you don't worry about sounding too much like a fangirl. you admit to the jerseys, the baseball card collection, all of it, and when you finish you look up to find san watching you with an amused look on his face. "what? too much?"

"no," he shakes his head. "i'm just thinking how good you'd look in one of my jerseys."

"try playing third," you tease. "maybe i'll buy one."

dessert comes then, and your focus turns to the amazing food again. maybe it was just you, but you felt a sort of...tension when you were talking just now. you weren't planning on sleeping with san, really ever, but that look in his eyes when he thought about you in his jersey, maybe the date won't end here.

after another visit from the owner and his wife, and plenty of take out to last you a few days, you're walking back to san's car. there's a chill in the air, so you gravitate to him for warmth. his arm circles around your waist, pulling you to his side, and he squeezes your hip. you feel goosebumps erupt on your skin, and you wonder again where the night might be going.

ever the gentleman, san helps you back into your seat and places your food carefully in the back. you're looking at him now in a new light, imagining how his hands would feel on your hips without a layer of clothes separating your skin from his. you're so caught up in your thoughts that you don't notice san has taken his seat, or that he said something to you. you ask him to repeat it, and he has a happy look on his face as he says, "thanks for going out with me, doll."

"thanks for asking," you reply. "i had a great time."

"good," he nods with finality, starting the car without another word. he doesn't even look at you again until he gets close to your building, and all those thoughts of what would happen next have left your mind. whatever vibe you caught from him in the restaurant was gone, he obviously wasn't planning on coming up to your apartment after this. your suspicions were confirmed when he pulls up to your door, turning to you with that same sappy look. "i had a great time tonight, y/n. thank you."

"yeah, sure," you mewl, gathering your things. "um, the food-"

"take all of it," san insists, twisting back to grab the bags. "this isn't exactly on my in-season diet, so i'm not sure how much i could sneak before the dietician clocks me for it."

"right, thanks," you nod, laden down with bags as you struggle to open your door. "well, thanks."

"you said that already ace."

"right," you repeat. "um, so, see you at work i guess?"

"looking forward to it," he smiles softly. "text me when you get in?"

"right," you say again, stepping out of his car without looking back.

-

the season starts shortly after your date with san, so you're too busy with work to think about it.

except that's a lie, you can't stop thinking about it. how could san be so flirty, act so into you, and then end the night without so much as a kiss goodbye? you don't want it to, but it's bothering you.

you don't have a reason to see him, at work or otherwise, until the first day of the season. you're set up in the dock next to the home dugout so you can get updates or a quick interview for the broadcast. you see san for the first time in days then, sitting there with your notebook and a headset, as he takes the field for warmups. it might be your mind playing tricks on you, but you swear san looks for you as he waits for seonghwa. as soon as his eyes find yours he turns around, jogging to the outfield after. you shake it off and get to work, checking your notes to make sure you've got the info right for the game. san will be the leadoff hitter, and you feel a pit of excitement in your stomach at the thought of watching him play. just from watching him in practice you know he's good, but he's electric when there's a real win on the line. still, you don't let your thoughts linger on him too long. you've got a job to do.

the game runs like clockwork, and the team easily knocks down three outs to switch sides. you don't look up when they walk to the dugout, afraid of catching san's eyes again. you don't look up until you hear the announcer call san's name, watching his back as he walks to the plate. through your headset, you can hear the commentators upstairs in the press box listing off his accomplishments at past teams, painting him in this otherworldly light. he's a superstar for a reason, his stats show that, and the way they're talking about him upstairs shows that everyone is captivated by him.

the pitcher, not intimidated by the silver slugger he's facing, sets up his first pitch. it's a curveball, somewhere in the 80 mph range, and it looks like it's gonna be a ball. but san is confident, his stance strong, his shoulders poised just so, and you watch in amazement as he rears back and completely shreds it. the ball is gone before anyone knows what's happening, and your eyes stay locked on san as he rounds the bases. when he approaches first, he looks directly at you, pointing in your direction as he turns at the bag. your heart is racing, you notice, and you shake off your surprise so you can describe the hit in your already cramped notes.

the rest of the game is exciting, but nothing matches san's leadoff homer. you could tell that lit the team up, an enthusiasm in every at bat, every play. your team wins, by a lot, and you go through the motions of finding players and coaches to interview for the post-game show as fans file out and the grounds crew comes in. the one person you're hoping to snag is nowhere to be seen, though.

by the time you're done with your work on the field, the post-game conference is already over. you're not sure if san gave a quote there and that's why you missed him on the field, but you don't care. the team won't mind, so you make your way to the locker room to find the man who's been running laps through your head all day.

san knows as soon as you enter the locker room that you're looking for him. he's showered and dressed in his outside clothes, his jersey neatly folded on the bench beside him as you approach.

"hey ace," he greets you. "some game huh?"

"it was good," you nod. "nice hit."

"glad you liked it," he replies cockily. "did it for you."

"can i quote you on that?" you ask, and san chuckles.

"come on doll, why the cold shoulder? i did what you asked, i helped your team win. figured that would get me on your good side."

"i just need a quote about that hit," you stand your ground. "i'm risking my innocence the longer i stay here, so if you could just say something arrogant on the record, i'll be on my way."

san can tell something is up, so he returns your formality with some of his own. you're in and out in less than five minutes, heading to the press room to collect your thoughts before you shoot your editor a text about your incoming story. as you stand there typing, you hear someone come up behind you so you start walking toward the exit.

"y/n, wait," san calls, and you want to walk faster. you want to leave and not look back, but he adds a quiet, "please." and you take a deep breath before you turn.

"what's up?" you ask. "i've got a deadline."

"you left this," san says simply, offering you the folded jersey from his locker. "i...whatever. it was my jersey from this game. i want you to have it."

"what?" you're shocked, aware of how much it costs for a player to give away a game worn jersey. it may not be much to san in the long run, but still. it softens your heart and you take it wordlessly, searching for something to say in thanks.

"well," san sighs. "see you tomorrow."

"san, wait!" you call before he can get too far. he looks back at you hopefully, and you jog to catch up with him. "why..." as you trail off, you look up to him and find an unreadable look on his face. "sorry for being a dick earlier, i just-"

"no worries," he shakes his head. "i get it, the season changes things, so-"

"did you take me out the other night to pay me back for helping you at the bar?" you ask what you've been wondering for a few days now. "because, i don't know. i thought we...or i, um, i felt...something. and when you dropped me off, it was like you changed."

"changed how?"

"before that, i thought you were into me," you try to say nonchalantly. "but after..."

"you think i'm not into you now?" he asks sadly, and you nod. "check your facts, ace. i think it's the opposite."

"well i wasn't sure-"

"you want me to prove it?" san asks, taking a step closer to you. "or you got a story you need to get back to?"

"i have time," you whisper, looking in his eyes. they're darker, more serious, a little hooded. that tension you felt the other night is back, and it takes your breath away briefly.

"come with me," san's tugging your hand, dragging you along behind him as he leads you outside. a quick scan of the parking lot tells him you're alone, so he rushes you to his car. again, he helps you in, rushing to toss his things in the back. you're sitting there, his jersey gripped in one hand and your notebook in the other. when he opens his door, you mumble something about your stuff, but he cuts you off. "you can get it tomorrow, ace. i'm taking you home now."

"but my keys-"

"i'm taking you to my place," he cuts you off again, looking to you as he starts the car. "there a problem?

"no," you reply meekly, and san is satisfied. he drives like a madman to his place, not far from the stadium. he parks in the deck below, bringing you with him to an elevator close by. he punches the button to his floor before he pounces, cupping your face to crash his lips into yours.

"can't believe you thought i didn't want you," he grumbles, dragging his hands to your neck, down your arms, to grip your waist. "ridiculous." he kisses you again, pulling you by the waist out of the elevator into his hallway. he only detaches from you to find his keys, hands steady as he undoes the lock. he pulls you inside and doesn't give you a chance to look around, capturing your lips in a kiss again. you finally drop your stupid notebook, embarrassed that you've been holding onto it this whole time. you start to let go of his jersey too, but he stops you. "what are you doing, ace? told you i've been thinking about you wearing my jersey."

"what-"

"put it on, baby," he coaxes you, his hands guiding yours. "let's get you out of this librarian dress and into something a little sexier."

"san, slow down," you say breathlessly, following him into his apartment. he collapses on the couch, watching you with that same fire in his eyes from earlier. "what now?"

"change," he replies. "put the jersey on."

"not fair," you pout. "i'm gonna be naked and i don't even get to see you shirtless?"

san tears his shirt off in record time, sitting back with a challenging look on his face.

"your turn, doll."

with shaky hands, you undo the zipper to your dress, letting it fall as san lets out a hiss of air. you slide your arms into the jersey, amazed that it still smells like his cologne after a game in the sun. you kind of flop your arms out after that, like a 'what now?' and san pats his thigh.

"sit," he commands.

"what?"

"you ask a lot of questions."

"it's my job," you quip back, and san lets his head fall back in a laugh.

"you said you had a thing for thighs, baby. figured you'd be jumping at the chance to ride mine."

spurred on by adrenaline and the growing pit of excitement in your stomach, you do as he says, straddling his thigh as you drape your arms over his broad shoulders.

"what now?" you whisper into his ear, nipping just beneath it to drive him insane. his hands return to your waist, and whispering into your ear, he says, "ride me, doll."

you grind against his thigh, sucking in a breath at the friction. you take it at your own pace, going slow so you don't overwhelm your senses. san's warm skin under your hands, his scent surrounding you, it's intoxicating. you let your hips move on their own accord, picking up speed as the pressure in your core builds. you let out a breathy moan when he bounces his leg, and his grip on your waist tightens.

"how's it feel, baby?" he asks, watching you intently.

"good, san, feels good."

"then go faster," he smirks. "might feel even better." you do, gasping as a hand leaves your waist to trace over your bra. his hand dips beneath the fabric, pulling a breast free before moving to the next cup to do the same. both of his hands find your chest, tweaking your nipples as he watches you unravel above him. "how's it feel now?"

"i'm close," you whine, hips jerking as your core gets too sensitive. you try to stand, to move things along, but san grabs onto your ass and guides you against his thigh.

"if you're close then why are you running away?" he chuckles. "show me how good it feels, ace."

"fuck," you whisper, grinding against him harder. "i'm almost there, but i-i can't, san, need more. need your fingers."

"you do?" he pouts. "i don't think you've earned it."

"i have," you whine, squeezing his thigh between yours. "fuck. if you don't do it i will."

"show me," he challenges, and you stand before he can stop you. you take your panties off, tossing them somewhere before sitting back down on his thigh. you cry out at the new contact, your arousal ruining his pants. you look down and see just how much you're dripping onto his leg, moaning as san guides you faster. you pop two fingers into your mouth and then reach down to rub your clit, crying out as you come.

"fuck, san," you moan, hips sputtering over him as you chase your high. "jesus." you let your head fall to his shoulder, your hand stilling at your core as you catch your breath.

"so dirty, baby," he whispers, brushing your hair away from your neck to trail kisses across your skin. his jersey has fallen from your shoulder, so he takes his time leaving a mark on the exposed skin as you come down. "you look real good in my jersey, making yourself feel good like that."

"what now?" you ask again, nipping at his ear.

"you ready so soon?" he asks. "so eager."

"i'm afraid you're gonna come in your pants," you whisper in his ear. "don't wanna ruin the fun before it even starts."

you shriek then, feeling san lift you like it's nothing. he kicks his bedroom door open before dropping you on the bed, taking a minute to admire you splayed out on his sheets as he undoes his pants. you're still breathless, watching him undress, and you feel your breath catch when he pulls his cock free.

"what, don't think you can handle it?" san asks, tearing a condom packet open with his teeth. "gotta say, i'd be disappointed."

"try me."

san crawls over you next, trapping your hands in his as he drags them above your head. he holds them in place as he guides his cock to your core, slapping it against your clit teasingly. you moan, hips bucking to chase the feeling. he keeps teasing you though, coating his cock in your arousal.

"so wet for me, baby," he groans. "are you like this when i play?"

"no," you grit your teeth. "san, please-"

"please what, baby?" he asks, stopping completely. his tip is pressed to your entrance, but he's not moving, and you squirm beneath him. "use your words, pretty girl. you get this wet when you see me?"

"when i think about fucking you, yeah," you respond honestly.

"and how often is that? just ballpark."

"sometimes."

"every day?" he asks, pressing his tip past your walls. he won't give you more than that, so you whimper, and he smirks. "tell me."

"since we kissed," you admit, wishing you could hide your blushing cheeks.

"aw, baby's been desperate that long?" he tsks. "i'm sorry, doll. didn't know you wanted me that bad."

"just fuck me, san."

"ask me."

"huh?"

"ask me how often i think about fucking you," he replies with a shit eating grin.

"how often?"

he thrusts into you, pulling a moan from deep within your chest. he leans down and kisses you, biting your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls away. then he whispers, thrusting with each word, "every single day."

he keeps thrusting into you, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. you moan into his mouth, whining his name, and you twist away long enough to ask, "let go of my hands. wanna touch you."

he lets you go, and your hands grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. he groans, egging you on, and you drag your nails down his back as you say, "your shoulders."

"what?"

"your shoulders. they drive me insane," you admit. "catchers have nice thighs, sure, but, fuck, you're built like a god."

"a god?" he smiles, and you can tell you're gonna regret saying that. "what else drives you insane?"

"hm, everything about you?" you reply. "you're infuriating."

"and you're close already," he smirks. "i can feel you clenching around me, baby. this feels good too?"

"so good," you nod. "can i come?"

"wait," he hisses, pulling out as you whine. "patience, baby. wanna try something else."

you let san move you how he wants, sitting up further on his bed as he props your legs open. he slides his hands beneath your legs, almost folding you in half as he cups your head. he moves you so you can see your dripping pussy, shining in the low light of his room.

"help me out, ace," he says, and with shaky hands you guide him back to your entrance. he thrusts, both of you watching as he enters you, and you moan in sync as he thrusts all the way in. he stills for a moment, loving the way you clench around him, and he speeds up, fucking you so fast you can't catch your breath. "shit. look at you, taking me so well."

"can i come now?" you whine, but he shakes his head again. "san!"

"wait for me, baby," he insists, thrusting faster. you can barely take it, but then his hips jerk, and you know he's close. "now, come on my cock, fuck-"

"san, oh my god," you cry out, bucking forward until your forehead is pressed against his, watching as you come around him. you feel him come with you, and you stay trapped in his hold as he slows down. he kisses you softly before he lets go, his hands carding through your hair as he helps you lay down.

"be right back," he whispers, kissing your forehead before he disappears. he comes back with water and a wet washcloth, handing you the cool glass as he cleans you up. you hand it back to him when he's done so he can take a sip, and then he leaves again to toss the condom. he collapses back into bed when he returns, immediately pulling you into his chest as he nuzzles his head into your neck. "can't believe you'd think i didn't want you, doll."

"this might be the first time anyone's proved me wrong," you tease, yelping when you feel him bite your skin. "mean!" he moves to lay his chin on your chest, looking up at you with warmth in his eyes. you brush some of his sweaty hair from his forehead as he speaks.

"do you wanna stay the night?" he asks. "please say yes. but if you don't want to, give me a minute and i can drive you home. but i really want you to stay."

"i'll stay," you nod, cupping his cheek as you stare at him. "you're really handsome, you know?"

"am i?" he smiles. "tell me more."

"that's all you get," you say as you flick his nose, and he scoots up the bed to lay his head next to yours. you're both quiet for a minute, thoughts flooding your head. you don't realize you're frowning until san whines.

"what's that face for?" he pouts, propping himself up on his arm as he stares down at you. "you want to go home."

"no, i'm just thinking," you pout back.

"about?"

"what will the team say if they see our walk of shame?"

"about time," he replies, kissing you before he lays back down. "i talk about you all the time, so i'm sure they'll be thrilled to know i finally got some."

"you're sick," you giggle, pinching him. "but maybe you should go in first. just to be safe."

"whatever you want ace," he hums, looking at you again. "you gonna sleep in my jersey, or can i give you another shirt to wear?"

-

despite your exhaustion from your night with san, you still had a story to write. it wasn't yet midnight, so after san gave you a shirt to sleep in you stayed up, furiously typing on your phone to get the story done in time. you thought san had fallen asleep beside you, his quiet breathing providing a sort of metronome to keep you focused. but as you got to a certain point in your story, you realized you need your notebook. you can't remember where it might be, so you try to quietly slip out of bed and go looking.

"come back to bed," san grumbles, making you jump.

"i thought you were asleep," you whisper, looking at him from the doorway. the sheets have pooled around his waist, and his chest is flushed. you wish you could just lay down with him, rest your head on his warm chest, and fall into the deepest sleep. but you've never filed a story late, and you're not interested in doing so tonight.

"i'm not going to sleep till you do," he answers, rubbing his eyes. he pulls the sheets away and slides out of bed himself, shuffling toward the door after you.

"what are you doing?" you ask, taking a step back.

"if you leave me alone in here i might die," he says seriously. "you looking for your notebook? i put it on my coffee table," he explains, placing his hand at the small of your back while he guides you through his apartment. you barely have a second to grab it from the table before san is pulling you down onto the couch with him, locking you in his hold on his lap.

"um, san?" you ask. "i need my arms." he groans as he loosens his grip, and you try to scoot over to take up the ample space left on the couch.

"uh uh," he shakes his head, looking at you with sleepy eyes. "you're staying right here until you finish."

"but you'll distract me," you pout, which san tries to kiss away.

"distract you, or motivate you to hurry up so we can go to sleep?"

"fine," you sigh, getting comfortable in his lap as you prop your notebook open on his chest. "keep that there for me."

"yes ma'am," he mumbles, closing his eyes as you work. you flip through a few pages and find what you were looking for, trying to concentrate on transcribing the quote, but it's hard. you're not comfortable, so you keep shifting. san's hands tighten around you, but you ignore it. just a few more minutes and you'll be done, but damn, is your leg cramping? you try to move again, but end up yelping when you feel san pinch your thighs. "baby," he whines. "stop moving. i'm getting hard."

"jesus, really?" you ask, shifting again to see for yourself. "oh hello there."

"stop," san chuckles, looking at you with hooded eyes. "are you almost done?"

"i've got a few more sentences, then i need to proofread it," you reply. "so kinda."

"alright," he nods. "keep working, ace." so you do, reading back a few lines to catch your train of thought. you frown though, feeling san's hands trail up your thighs to play with the material of your panties.

"san, stop," you tell him. "you're being a distraction."

"ah, no i'm not," he says, cupping you in his hold as he sits forward. he fidgets with something for a minute before resting back against the cushions, and you gasp when you feel his cock against you. "i'm motivating you, remember?"

"san, what are you doing-"

"just keep working baby," he coos, pulling your panties to the side before sliding his cock through your folds. "want you to sit on it until you finish."

"funny," you twist his nipple, and he hisses.

"ah, no pun intended," he smiles, "but happy coincidence. come on, i'm bored, and if i don't do this i'll fall asleep."

"then sleep! i won't be able to focus with you...in me."

"try," san kisses you, sitting back with a smirk. "i believe in you baby. now keep working."

you look at the time and groan, because you don't have time to argue with him. you watch as he lifts your hips and sinks into you, letting out a shaky breath once your hips are slotted against his. he keeps his eyes on you, taking in every wince, every jolt, every bite of your lip to stop from whimpering. you feel so full, and san is so warm, and you can't focus but you're almost done-

"read the story to me," san says next, breaking through your thoughts once again.

"hold on," you say, completing the final sentence before you scroll back to the top. "on the record i think you're insane."

"that's a weird way to start an article about baseball," san smirks, so you roll your hips to get him to shut up. you start reading your story, and he listens like he's hooked on every word. at the first mention of his name, he lifts you up slightly before bringing your hips back down and you stutter on your words. "come on ace, keep reading."

"fuck you," you breathe out.

"you are," he smirks again, and you grit your teeth as you continue. you speed through the story, but san keeps slowly fucking you as you go. you find a typo and he stills while you fix it, but as you get to the end he picks up speed. when you finally read the last word, you place a hand on his chest and he stops again.

"let me send this to my editor, please, and then you can keep defiling me," you beg.

"i learn so many new words being around you," san jokes, but you're not listening. you manage to send the story at 11:59 exactly, and you toss your phone away before grabbing onto san's shoulders.

"you need a hobby or something," you get out between moans as he starts fucking you again. "fuck. feel so full, san."

"yeah?" he sighs. "you feel incredible. so tight, so warm for me."

"shit, you're not wearing a condom," you realize. "get out."

"hold on," he whines. "i'll pull out. just give me a minute. are you close?"

"very confident in your skills," you point out. "we haven't been fucking that long."

"but i can feel you dripping around me," he says, pinching your hips. "feel you squeezing me. i know you're loving this baby."

"i'm almost there," you fess up, rolling your hips against him to get some more friction. he brings a hand around to your core, his thumb tracing over your clit so teasingly it's driving you insane. you collapse in his hold, your head resting against his shoulder as you let out breathy moans. he slows down, just to tease you more, and you bite his shoulder.

"ow!"

"keep going," you groan against his skin. "gonna come, fuck-" and you feel your high crash into you, hips jerking against san's as you come. you're quick to hop off of him, which he protests, but you sit before him on your knees as you stroke his cock. he's got to be close, so you bring his tip to your lips to suck him into your mouth. he lets go almost immediately, gasping above you as he comes into your mouth. as soon as he's done, he pulls you off of him with a huff.

"show me, doll," he rasps, and you stick your tongue out to show him his release. you swallow most of it, some drips sneaking past your lips so you sit up and wipe them off on the edge of his boxers, still caught around his knees. "hey!"

"you can deal," you tell him, standing with his help. your legs are shaky, and the exhaustion is really hitting you now. "come on, let's go to bed before you keep us up all night."

-

for the next week or so, you and san fall into a habit of going home with each other after each game. the first two series of the season are at home, so it makes things easy for you. you don't have to talk about what you are to san or vice versa, it's just understood that any free time you have will be spent with each other.

you're getting nervous, though, because the first away series is this weekend. you're strictly a local reporter, so you don't travel with the team. you'll report solely based on what the broadcast team on site is saying, or by bugging the team with phone calls. a little piece of you is nervous that san will fall back into his superstar ways, because he did have a reputation before coming here for having...friends...in every city. you try to push that feeling away for now, but it keeps nagging you at the worst times.

like now, san has cornered you in the clubhouse, kissing you in between questions for your next story and all you can think about is the trip this weekend. you're trying to focus on the story, really. the team is on an unbeaten streak, and some of the guys have cited san as the reason for that. word around the team is that his energy and passion for the game has made them better. you're trying to get something heartfelt out of him, but he's distracted.

"baby, i'm doing some of my best work here," he mumbles against your lips. "can't the questions wait?"

"i'm on a deadline san, you know that," you say as you put your hand on his chest and push back. "two more questions, and then i'm all yours."

"fine," he sighs, taking a step back. his hands stay on your waist as you talk, his thumbs rubbing your skin beneath your shirt. you're able to get what you need, so you stop the recording on your phone and put it away.

"you know, if anyone ever hears those, i'd be fired," you tell him as you drape your arms over his shoulders.

"good thing i'm loaded," san smirks. "i can buy their silence and you can keep your job."

"you know i used to be a clean reporter?" you pinch his neck. "you're really blurring my ethical lines here."

"i won't tell if you don't," he whispers, kissing you again. you stay like that, lips locked together, until a buzzing in san's pocket interrupts you. "ah, i should get that."

"who's calling? you don't have friends," you tease him, your uneasy mind wondering if it's one of his usuals from out of state.

"it's the equipment team," he explains, "they've never packed my stuff for an away trip before so they want to confirm before they ship out."

san answers the call, but keeps a protective arm hooked around you so you can't leave. you distract yourself with a stray thread on his shirt as he talks, and when he hangs up he places his hand over yours.

"whatcha thinking about, ace?"

"when do you leave for the series this weekend?" you ask nonchalantly, avoiding his gaze.

"day after tomorrow," he replies. "i figured we'd get an off day here, but they want us to come in for an extra practice to stay sharp."

"gotta keep that win streak going on the road," you tell him. "like you promised."

"exactly," he smiles. "so when will you leave?"

"huh?"

"for the series," san asks in an equally confused tone. "you're coming with us, right?"

"i don't travel with the team," you shake your head. "so i'll be here, wasting away."

"aw, you're gonna miss me," san coos, pulling you into his side as he walks you down the hall. "guess i gotta fit in as much y/n time as i can before i go."

"seems like it," you give him a tightlipped smile before pulling away. "i gotta go back out to the field, i'm doing a report in a few minutes. so i'll text you when i'm done?"

"sure," he nods, kissing your forehead before you go.

-

you went back to your apartment at the end of the day, tired and mind racing. you're not even dating san, why are you so concerned about what he might get up to on this road trip? you try to busy yourself until san comes by with dinner, so you're in the middle of washing dishes when there's a knock at your door. you let san in, stepping to the side in your small entryway to let him through. it leaves him standing incredibly close to you as you close the door, but once the space is cleared he stays where he is.

"you can come in, weirdo," you laugh. "do you need me to move?"

"no hug? no kiss?" he complains, pouting his lips as if waiting for a smooch.

"my hands are wet," you say as you hold them up, "so no hug, but-" you stand on your toes and aim a kiss perfectly on top of lips, spinning around quickly after to go back to the kitchen. "put everything on the coffee table, i'll get plates."

you walk into your living room to find a feast laid out for you. how'd you miss san carrying in so much food? you place plates down for you both, sitting next to san so your thighs touch. he piles food on your plate as you tell him about the rest of your day, but when he keeps going you make him stop.

"do you think i never eat?" you laugh. "why the mountain of food?"

"i'll be out of town for a while," he shrugs. "gotta make sure you're taken care of before i go."

"right," you nod. "thank you, but this is plenty."

"want me to feed it to you?" he asks with a sappy look on his face, but you know he's serious.

"i'll kick you out if you even try."

"then what about you feeding me?"

"are you excited for the first road trip of the year?" you change the subject.

"i am," he says slowly. "not much to see there, though, so it'll be a boring trip. especially if you're not coming..."

"can't," you remind him. "the big man won't allow it."

"but let's say, i don't know, a player on the team had an extra ticket to the game...then what?"

"huh?" you look at him confused. "what are you saying?"

"if i told you i got you a ticket to the game, would you come?" he asks sincerely. he grabs your hand and squeezes, saying, "i need my good luck charm there."

"san, i don't know," you shake your head. "how would i get there? where would i stay?"

"you could travel with the other wives and girlfriends," he answers. "apparently it's a whole big trip, they do this every year for the first away series."

"but i'm not a wife or a girlfriend," you tell him. "i'm a reporter."

"then why don't you leave the notebook at home and just come to the game as my girlfriend?"

"your girlfriend?" you smile. "i think i can do that."

[hwallazia]

AT YOUR MERCY – 최산

synopsis . in which after shamefully losing a bet against your boyfriend, you’re forced to do whatever he wants for a whole week, and when there’s only one day left for the punishment to end, your boyfriend decides to finish it with a flourish.

pairing . choi san & fem! reader

genre . smut (mdni!), a little fluff at the end, established relationship, idol!au

word count . 2,5k

DISCLAIMER! fingering, slight public humiliation, public vibe play, squirting, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl!), dirty talk, praise, nicknames (good girl, princess, baby, darling & more), vibrator usage, orgasm denial? lmk if i missed anything!

NIC’S NOTES this is my first nsfw post, so it’s kind of shitty. i promise to keep writing this kind of post so i can improve my writing style. there might be some shameful mistakes! so, sorry in advance. ♡

You cursed the moment you decided to bet with your partner, not knowing that that son of a bitch was lucky as hell, and you cursed even more the smirk that was drawn on his lips every time he pressed a button and consequently, he saw you squirm in your place.

You both decided to give “cockwarming” a try and here's the thing: the first one to cum would have to do anything the other wanted for a week. You are just as competitive as your boyfriend, so you didn't think twice before accepting the challenge. Poor you.

“How are you so sure that you are gonna win?” San asked you with his face buried in your neck, tasting your eccentric scent and warm skin on his feline tongue.

“I can control myself better than you, sweetheart” your words dangerously slipped off your tongue. “So don't be so confide-” you were cut off by a moan that left your lips pleasantly, caused by your lover's hand massaging your breasts in the most exquisite way.

“Didn't quite catch that. What were you saying, love?”

Of course, how did you not think about it before? He knew that your tits were sensitive, and because of that, he was rubbing his index over your right nipple, making you squirm under his touch as if his finger was some kind of soft feather.

“F...Fuck, damn you Choi San- ah!” your whole body shook when he licked your nipple while he caressed your waist with his other hand. He was really driving you crazy.

“Come on, babe. I know you wanna cum, you know you wanna cum.” listening to your moans and whines only encouraged him to keep going and guide you towards the abyss of pleasure. “Give in, darling.”

It only took ten minutes, ten damn minutes. You came in the blink of an eye, and as soon as you recovered from your intense orgasm, all you could do was watch your lover's lustful gaze. 

“I'll make fun of you later, don't worry babe. I just want to fuck you properly right now.” he carried you to your shared bedroom after having that mini session on his gaming chair.

That little bet ended with you being unable to walk properly for two days straight and San teasing you about it. Now, you both were getting ready for a casual meal with the other members of ATEEZ. You were in front of your full-body mirror fixing the ribbon that was hanging on your ponytail cutely when your boyfriend entered the room holding a strange box in his hands. 

“Oh my.” he left the package on the soft bed and approached you just to decorate your waist with his arms. He sniffed the intoxicating perfume you put on. “You look stunning, love.” a kiss was placed on your cheek. “Well, you are. You always are.”

You both shared a smile as you got comfortable in his embrace. His hands went up to your shoulders just to turn you around, your eyes met his, and you couldn't help but notice that they had something different. A different spark was coming out of them.

“I have a surprise for you.” he grabbed the box and gave it to you. You couldn't define at that moment how was he feeling, excited? worried? euphoric? you didn't have a clue.

“What is it?” you spoke as you opened it. Your eyes met the pink, jelly-ish vibrator that was hanging on your hand now. 

“Does he want me to...? Oh, no way” you thought.

“Since I only have one day until the bet ends, I decided to finish with a flourish” you couldn't believe his words as they came out his lips. “You, pretty thing, are going to wear that on tonight's dinner and I” he showed you his phone screen which revealed some kind of remote controller, you guessed it was for the sexual toy “will control it.”

You obviously complained, in vain, but you complained. Obeying him, you inserted the vibrator inside you with the help of your boyfriend's saliva, who licked his fingers to wet your entrance. You inevitably let out little gasps.

“Okay, these are the rules, beautiful. No squirming too much, I don't want any noise, I hear you moan at some point and you won't get to cum for all week. The rest of the members don't have to know how dirty my girl is anyway, right?” you swear you could've let out a moan if you weren't so nervous.

You swallowed your own saliva before nodding. 

“Good. Now let's go before we're late” with no other choice, you left that room with your boyfriend to head to Seonghwa's apartment, praying that he would have mercy on you. While you both were on your way, San, from time to time, turned on and off the vibrator, making you whine and rest your head on the dashboard. 

“S-sannie, could you at least keep it low?” your boyfriend's gaze was focused on the road, only a 'hmm' was heard, so you repeated your words. “Could you please- ngh... keep it low?”

“Was that a complaint?” when the traffic light turned red he stopped and locked his eyes on you. You couldn't help but feel intimidated; of course you knew he wasn't mad at you, it's just the intense gaze he has, which always made you weak.

“No, babe. Not at all.” you mumbled, choosing to remain silent for the rest of the ride.

As soon as you opened the door that led you to Seonghwa's cozy apartment, you found the remaining seven members sitting at the table talking about trivial topics. The first to stand up and greet you with a warm hug was Wooyoung, of course. You reciprocated it, hugging him tighter and giving him a sweet smile. Wooyoung, not forgetting his best friend, greeted San with a gentle pat on the back.

“Haven't seen you both in a while. How have you been?” he asked, looking at us happily.

“We can ask them those kind of questions here, man. Let them get to the table at least.” Yunho said from his sit, making you and San giggle.

“Can't even greet my friends now.” Wooyoung said while the three of us got a seat; San, of course, sitting right next to you. Yunho stared at him annoyingly. 

The dining table was suddenly flooded with tons of food, which was exquisite, you had to ask Wooyoung and Seonghwa for the recipe of that bulgogi you just tried later. The gathering flowed like water, that vibe of peace that only those eight boys could provide was in the air, causing you to exhale in relief. Your boyfriend has messed with the remote only a few times so far —not that you couldn't handle it. You were calm because of that until Hongjoong started asking you questions, drawing everyone's attention to you.

"How is everything with your clothing store?" Hongjoong is so into fashion, and because of that he often asks you about outfits, brand recommendations, and all that kind of stuff. You smiled at him before you answered his question.

"Oh, everything has been wonderful so far. I had a large number of clients last week because of the new trends that are coming in, so I was very tired at the end of the day, but remembering how happy my clients looked before leaving the store was honestly priceless. It made me so proud of my effort."

"I'm glad everything is going just right for you." Hongjoong said, smiling at you sweetly.

"Talking about trends! What is trending now? I'm still thinking that bucket hats are trending so I need a little update." Mingi said and you laugh at his comment.

"Well, Balenciaga just pulled out a new pair of shoes and..." you made a small pause as you began to feel light vibrations inside you and a hand caressing your upper thigh. "They have these little gold details on their side, some people say the gold is real, some people deny it, but the point here is that is... ah" an embarrasing moan left your lips unintentionally as the heat started to dye your cheeks and ears.

"Uhm, y/n? Are you okay?" Seonghwa said tilting his head, trying to read your expression —which you were trying to hide between your curtain bangs shamefully.

"Yes! So, as I was saying. They're trending, but... quite expensive." there was silence in the middle of your sentence thanks to your boyfriend, who had the great idea of intensifying the vibrations. You could feel his arrogant smile, which made you want to throw yourself on top of him just to curse him until your vocal cords were broken.

"Well, I'll have to prepare my wallet for that hit." Mingi said, making all of you giggle.

Fortunately, no more questions were asked to you. Therefore, you began to bite your lower lip to not make noise, just as your boyfriend had ordered you. You leaned on San's arm, letting him notice how much you were shaking, he smiled as he looked at you, so vulnerable because of him.

“What is it, darling? Too much to handle?” he mumbled in your ear softly as he raised once again the intensity, a whimper coming out of your mouth. “No, no, what was the deal?”

“S...Sorry, Sannie.”

“Right.” you bit your already broken lip again, trying to find relief through the pain it was causing you. “What a good girl you are, behaving in front of my friends even though you have a vibrator shoved inside you” you tried to cause a bit of friction by rubbing your thighs together since San's dirty talking was not helping you at all.

“I- mgh! I've been a good girl all night, Sannie, p-please... let me-” your words were cut off when San straightened his back to clear his throat and make an announcement.

“Fellas, I'm very sorry but I have to go home. My girl is not feeling quite well.” San caressed your ponytail as he talked.

“Nah San it's fine. Drive her home safely.” Seonghwa spoke, giving you and San the sweetest smile.

“Yes sir,” he responded, sharing a giggle with him. “Bye guys, thank you for tonight.” 

“Next time we go to Wooyoung's house!” Yeosang announced, the man opening his eyes widely as he analyzed the room, everyone apparently agreeing with the idea. 

“Deal.” he gave them a genuine smile before holding your hand and leave the room.

The ride back to your place was as fast as light —in less than ten minutes you were already stepping into your apartment's room. You both exchanged open-mouthed kisses, conveying your intense desire for each other. San quickly undressed you and guided you to the bed, where he spread a trail of kisses all along your core while he brushed his fingers on your waist.

“Sannie, please... Don't tease me, you've done that all night.” yes, of course you were desperate; you were craving your man's touch all night. You needed him, and you needed him now.

“Don't be a brat, babe. I'll take my time with you tonight.” the whine you let out made him grin, finally taking that goddamned vibrator out of you and diving into your wet and creamy mess for several minutes. “So fucking wet.”

His tongue danced around your slit making the nastiest sound, you could sense a bit of excitement in its movements, he was motivated to give you any satisfaction you could desire. He set a steady pace when he began to work his fingers on your cunt—the little, wet mess your boyfriend liked to play around with so much was starting to get audible. 

“Sannie... oh that feels so good,” a loud whimper escaped your lips as he slurped your clit and relentlessly abuse your g-spot. “fas... faster, please”

“But we just started, love.”

“Baby... please- ah! I need- mgh...” he got away from your pussy so he could face you, but his fingers were still working you open.

“Use your words, darling. So I can give you what you want.” he approached your lips and kissed you so delicately. He knew better than anyone that you weren't able to give him a proper response, since he was reaching so deliciously that soft spot.

“Please... Fuck me.” a grin was drawn on his lips, enjoying the power that he had at that moment. 

“You've been a very good girl so, who am I to deny my baby's desires?” 

Finally getting rid of those annoying trousers that covered what you've been craving all night long, he lined up his throbbing dick at your entrance; he rubbed the tip of it with your slit before pushing slowly in, giving you all the time of the world to adjust. You clamped down on him unintentionally, pulling a deep exhale out of his mouth.

“Fucking hell... How are you this tight? Shit...” he cursed under his breath. Your jaw drops at the immediate build in pleasure. Your body becomes tense and you push your hips up, letting him know that he could move and split you in half. 'Cause honestly, that's all you wanted him to do.

His thrusts were deep and precise, hitting all the right places —therefore, driving you off the edge. All you wanted was him, and only him. From your position, you could admire your lover's face, twisting in pleasure. He groaned deeply and that was the last push you needed to finally start collapsing, you could feel your orgasm build inside your throbbing cunt.

“You gonna cum, pretty girl?” he encouraged you, your thighs shaking like an earthquake. He gave your body what it demanded; his hand slid down your clit and played with it as if it was his favorite toy. “Let it go, princess. Make a mess for your Sannie.”

And he didn't have to tell you twice. At his command, you came like champagne, soaking the sheets under you, and San absolutely loved it. You squirting only stimulated his need of filling you up nice and full of his cum. You felt how his cock started to convulse inside you right after, so you pulled San’s face to meet yours and kissed him hard.

At this point, you wondered how he was able to thrust even faster but he did, edging himself closer. You clamped around him intentionally as you watched him fall apart in a broken moan, whispering repeatedly the word “fuck” under his breath.

“Ah, fuck babe. I- ugh, I'm cumming, doll.” and just like that, your hole was dripping his white scent lustfully.

You feel your body go light as a feather, the relief taking over. San holds you in his arms safely, peppering kisses on your forehead, his warm breath hitting your sticky skin. He mumbled some sweet things that you could not hear quite well since your tiredness started to block your senses.

“I love you... sooo much,” you spoke in a low, drunken tone.

“I love you so much more, princess” he gently pressed his lips against yours, melting both of you into the sweetest kiss. “So much more.”

| masterlist

[flurrys-creativity]

Warrior

Pairing: Choi San (Ateez) x Fem!OC Yeong-Ja; Genre: Joseon AU, Historical AU, Fantasy, Shifter AU, Werewolf AU, strangers to lovers, romance, angst, fluff, SMUT; Rating: nsfw, 18+, MDNI; Warnings: concubines, hints of misogyny, somewhat sold off, inaccurate historical stuff, San from his special performance warrior video including the tattoos, shifter San with a very demanding inner wolf, mentions of sex, getting a tattoo the old style (which is probably inaccurate as well), mentions of uproars, death (minor ocs), san murdering them, graphic violence, graphic description of injuries, san being chained to his bed, SMUT -> rough sex, unprotected sex, marking, biting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, several positions, breeding kink, knotting, mating, pet names, mentions of softer sex; Wordcount: 11.482

Summary: Every time emperor San won a battle against foreign forces he got gifted another concubine - another person, who’d be scared of him. Though when he met the newest addition in his palace, he realised Yeong-Ja was everything but scared.

A/N: Ever since that special performance video of Warriors by San came out, I'm a changed person!! I wrote this chonky one within one weekend while playing the video on loop.

Yeong-Ja got ushered into a room by several servants, who told her to stay there until the emperor would arrive. Before she could even ask when that would be the door got shut right in front of her nose, leaving her alone.

With a heavy sigh Yeong-Ja turned around and took a closer look at the room in front of her. While it definitely appeared luxurious - the room was basically as big as her old home - but except for a large bed there wasn’t much inside the room. It didn’t even have windows. There was only another sliding door, which probably led to the private quarters of the emperor.

Yeong-Ja stood in the middle of the room unsure what she was supposed to do besides waiting for the emperor. Should she stand somewhere specific or sit on the bed? She knew what was expected of her yet she couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact she had become a concubine in the span of only a few hours.

That morning Yeong-Ja had woken up and gone out to town since the market was open and she had hoped to buy a few things for her family. So while she bargained with one of the sellers, she got approached by a tall man in fancy clothes.

“Excuse me”, he said with an awkward smile, “I’d like to have a conversation with someone, who speaks for you.”

Yeong-Ja raised an eyebrow, forgetting the little quarrel with the seller as she turned towards the man and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I’m able to speak for myself, sir.”

A twinkle in his eyes and the soft chuckle revealed his amusement even after he focused himself again with a short shake of his head. “I’d still like to inform your husband or any kind of relative that you’re chosen to become a concubine.”

For a split second everything around Yeong-Ja stopped. She stared at the stranger with wide eyes, needing several seconds to register what he just said. Once the heaviness of the message fought through and settled into her mind, her whole world started to crumble. She nodded almost mechanically as she asked the man to follow her, cutting her time at the market short.

Even when she brought him to his parents and sat beside them in the small dining area, somewhat listening to the words he had to say, her thoughts had travelled to a different place. While Yeong-Ja wasn’t the only woman at her age unmarried, it was rather uncommon. Her headstrong attitude and the fact she came from a poorer family were the reasons why she hadn’t been married yet. Though it hadn’t been a problem in her family, Yeong-Ja was incredibly thankful for that since she loved her independence. 

“If you want to take something with you, Miss Yeong-Ja, now would be the time to get it.” The stranger, who had himself introduced as Park Seonghwa the head counsellor of the emperor, looked at her. A hint of pity and understanding swirling in his dark eyes. 

Her mother had followed her to the sleeping area, laying a hand on her shoulder. She had tears in her eyes as she pulled her daughter into her arms. “You’ll have a better life at the palace”, she whispered and caressed the back of the younger woman. “Please take this with you.” With that her mother let go of her and walked over to a small cabinet. She pulled a box out from the farthest end and turned back to Yeong-Ja. “This was a gift from your great grandfather to your great grandmother. It’s supposed to be a lucky item. Wear it to receive the blessings -” she swallowed the lump inside her throat, her voice sounding choked up - “and to remember us.”

Yeong-Ja hiccuped as she accepted the gift with trembling fingers. She looked down at the fine silver necklace in her hands, seeing one turquoise stone added as a pendant. She closed her hands and clutched them against her chest, whispering her thanks while tears streamed down her cheeks.

Now inside the luxurious bedroom Yeong-Ja fumbled with the dozens of layers of clothes to reach for the pendant. She wrapped her fingers around the turquoise and felt the calm energy spreading throughout her body. With no way back she could only look ahead.

She noticed a bowl of water and several towels on a nightstand close to the bed. Yeong-Ja walked closer to the bowl, leaning over it and staring at her own reflection. She barely recognised herself and a frown appeared on her features. 

That ghost-like face looking back at her wasn’t the woman she wanted to be. While the make-up looked magnificent and had been applied with the utmost care by the servants, Yeong-Ja couldn’t help herself but to hate it. She knew noble women liked to appear paler to show they didn’t work on fields in the sun, but Yeong-Ja was born and raised on such fields. She had a natural tan skin and any other colour made her look sick.

Without a second thought Yeong-Ja pushed the fabrics up her arms and dunked her hands into the bowl, cupping them and splashing water into her face. She rubbed her face meticulously and hoped to get rid of all the white make-up plastered on her skin.

Once she deemed her face clean, Yeong-Ja grabbed a towel and patted her skin dry. Her face already felt much lighter without all the make-up. Although the minute Yeong-Ja looked down at her body and saw all the layers of fancy fabric she felt like a fool again. Her face didn’t match this dress anymore. Yeong-Ja pursed her lips and brushed the sleeves of the fabric back down, feeling uncomfortable in all these layers. The young woman looked over her shoulder to the two closed doors, contemplating whether she should risk it and change or just stay put.

She swallowed and tried to listen intently to the sounds outside of the room. When she wasn’t able to pick up any words or steps, she decided to take the risk. 

Yeong-Ja fumbled with the fabrics and the knots that held everything in place. It took her every ounce of self control to stay patient and not rip everything apart. Once she finally got rid of every layer and only stood in the finest silk underwear in the middle of the room, Yeong-Ja thought she was able to breathe again.

She bent down and started folding all the fabrics, placing them neatly in front of the nightstand. Yeong-Ja only kept the outer piece and a few pins. She draped the fabric over her body and secured it with the pins.

When Yeong-Ja was brought into the bedroom, the emperor - Choi San - arrived at the throne room. He barely kept the sigh inside his lungs when he saw Seonghwa waiting for him.

“Another victory, huh?” Seonghwa stepped next to San, trying to contain his grin. He could read San like a book and knew how annoyed his emperor was already.

“Which means another concubine.” San plopped down on the throne. He pushed his hair back with his hand before he fixed his eyes on the older man. “Why is the court getting a concubine every time I come back from a battle? They’re running away in the end.”

“Now, now. You make it out as if every concubine has fled so far. You still have a thriving harem, San.”

San only rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, resting his chin on his hand. “Anything else I should know before I tell the servants to bring the new concubine to their quarters?” San only wanted to get a bath in peace, wanted to wash off all the grime and blood from the battlefield. He needed to rest and regain his strength again. San had used almost all of his power to keep the intruders in check and only with the help of his wolf was he able to overpower them.

“This one is different. Take at least a look at her.” 

San zoned back into the conversation and shook his head. Whatever Seonghwa had told him just now, San only heard the last two sentences. He grimaced but decided to wave it off for now. With a dismissive hand gesture San got up from the throne and walked to the hidden door behind it. “I’ll think about it”, he told Seonghwa before he bid his goodbye and followed the wooden path towards his private quarters.

A servant rushed to his side, offering their assistance. They nodded in understanding with each order - preparing a bath and bringing the new concubine to their quarters - they received. 

San opened the door to his private bedroom and closed it right behind him again. He trotted towards the bathroom and started stripping out of his clothes, which needed to be washed as well. 

A sudden scream followed by frantic yelling, interrupted San in his undressing. Without regard to his appearance the emperor rushed towards the disturbance. He slammed the door to the concubine bedroom open and hurriedly stepped inside, his eyes jumping from corner to corner. San was ready to fight but except for a servant and a woman he never saw before he couldn’t sense any danger. “Wha-”

“I am so sorry, my emperor. I didn’t mean to disturb you with my yelling. I just wanted to take the concubine to her quarters when I saw what she did.” The servant bowed deeply as they apologised over and over again.

“Please”, San only said in a stern voice, successfully shutting up the servant. He looked around the room again, trying to understand what the servant meant. He inhaled deeply when a sudden wave hit his senses.

‘Smells good’, his wolf hummed, forcing San to inhale again. He even closed his eyes, focusing solely on the sweet scent invading his nose. When he opened his eyes again, they immediately landed on the new concubine.

Yeong-Ja had crossed her arms in front of her chest. She felt embarrassed for screaming when the servant tapped her shoulder. She hadn’t noticed them coming into the room and yelped in surprise from the sudden touch. Yeong-Ja also felt embarrassed for being scolded so harshly. While she had expected to get scolded, she had pictured it to be the emperor himself.

Her eyes fell on the man who had entered the room as well. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks when Yeong-Ja saw the half-naked form of him. Involuntarily her eyes wandered over his toned upper body and well defined muscles. She took the tattoos adorning his body in as well, fascinated by the intricate painting of a wolf’s head on his left pec.

As her eyes continued to wander over his body she finally reached his face. The air inside her lungs nearly got stuck when Yeong-Ja saw the intense gaze on her. She locked eyes with him and the feeling of being a small prey spread throughout her whole body. 

San glanced at the servant, telling them they were dismissed, before his eyes landed on the new concubine again. 

His wolf rumbled inside of him, growling something about having found their mate. He eagerly wanted to cross the distance and get to the woman, wanted to touch her, smell her, scent her, take her and most importantly breed her.

San’s fingers twitched as he fought to keep control over his own body. Seonghwa’s words played in his mind again, while San stared at the woman in front of him. He noticed how she wasn’t turned into a doll-like human like all the other concubines before her. He also noticed how the clothes around her body weren’t as neatly placed. 

‘Easier access’, his wolf nearly howled, keen with the choices that were made.

Yeong-Ja could have sworn she was on fire from the intensity of his gaze but at the same time one ice cold shiver after another ran down her spine. She could feel her heart pounding inside of her ribcage.

“May I know your name?”

The soft voice of the emperor - even though it sounded slightly strangled - surprised Yeong-Ja. She would love to simply listen to him all day, every day. “Yeong-Ja”, she introduced herself, bowing slightly in hopes it was enough courtesy towards the emperor.

San repeated her name, same as his inner wolf, getting a feeling of it on his tongue. “That is a beautiful name”, he complimented her as he suppressed another attempt of his wolf to pounce on her. “Have you been waiting for a long time?”

Yeong-Ja blinked several times, thinking about the question. She wasn’t even sure whether she could answer it or not. Without any windows Yeong-Ja wasn’t able to see how high the sun was and therefore unable to tell the time. Yet she knew it had been enough time for her to change her appearance. “Long enough to wash my face and dress differently.”

San’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t expected such an answer and most importantly he hadn’t expected that she took the liberty to change her looks, disregarding everything the servants must have prepared for him. Before San could control himself, he let out a loud laugh. San held his stomach as he leaned back from the force of his laughter. The mental picture of the frustration from his servants and her just undoing everything that has been made, just got to him.

Yeong-Ja observed him silently, a small smile playing over her lips upon noticing the dimples on his face when he grinned brightly. 

Once San calmed down again, he wiped the corner of his eyes. He still grinned, the amusement apparent in his voice as well. “Make yourself comfortable in this room. If you’re in need of anything don’t hesitate to call for a servant.”

Yeong-Ja nodded slowly, trying to hide the confusion that filled her thoughts. She thought the emperor would want her to undress and get on the bed so she could please him. Therefore she hadn’t expected something like this.

“I’d like to have breakfast with you tomorrow morning. Is that alright with you?” San ignored the warning growls from his wolf, telling him to stay with her. But San wanted to be a little more careful with her. He hoped by getting to know her first and taking it slow, Yeong-Ja might not fear him like most of the other concubines. And most importantly she hopefully wouldn’t run away.

Yeong-Ja had to remind herself of keeping it together and actually answer the emperor. Everything she witnessed from him so far contradicted all the rumours surrounding him. It was a miracle that she wasn’t too stunned to speak with him. “It would be a pleasure.”

San smiled and nodded shortly, before he bid his goodbye and walked back into his private chambers. Much to the dismay of his inner wolf.

Over the next weeks San ordered to bring more furniture into the concubine’s bedroom. While he could have admitted Yeong-Ja to the special quarters for the concubine instead of the regular ones, his inner wolf insisted to have her as close as possible - and if sharing a bed wasn’t an option yet it had to be the room right next door.

Yeong-Ja still didn’t know how to properly act around the emperor. He was sweet towards her during the day and made sure every wish she could possibly have was fulfilled as fast as possible but he never called her for the purpose she was brought into the palace.

At night she would lie awake in the large bed, staring up at the ceiling, which she barely saw with the small night light on the stand next to the bed. At first Yeong-Ja wasn’t able to sleep because she constantly stayed on edge, expecting to be called for her duty at any moment. Though when it didn’t happen her thoughts started to tear her apart from the inside. She couldn’t understand why San never came to her at night, why he always kept his distance even when they met. 

Yeong-Ja couldn’t possibly know how much he suffered from not being close to her. His wolf rioted every chance possible - especially at night. A time where he wanted to take his mate and nothing else. 

San writhed in pain, trying to keep his cool. Yet the hard on he sported in his loose pants throbbed painfully. No amount of masturbating helped him and it slowly but surely drove him insane.

‘Go to her.’ His wolf whispered, the sly smirk prominent in his voice. ‘She’ll take care of us.’

“No”, San grunted breathlessly. He pushed himself up and walked over to the door. San stood in front of it, his whole body trembling as he fought with himself. It took all of his will power to go through the other door. 

He walked up to the concubine quarters. San needed a release and he couldn’t care less about who he had to fuck for that. As long as it meant he wouldn’t harm Yeong-Ja.

The woman struggled to fall asleep again. Therefore she decided to go for a short walk. She followed the wooden path to the centre of the palace, where she found a small koi pond and some greenery. Yeong-Ja sat down on the stairs that led down to the pond and stared at the water. The light of the flames from the lanterns around her reflected on the surface, almost dancing to a melody she wasn’t able to hear.

When she heard the sudden movements to her right, she cowered behind the handrail, hoping to stay hidden from whoever walked past in the middle of the night.

San pushed the concubine towards the special quarters since he couldn’t use the bedroom anymore. He got impatient with her stumbling and irritated with his wolf wanting to go somewhere else. Hopefully it would die down the second he stepped into the quarters with that concubine.

Yeong-Ja watched them silently, a lump forming inside her stomach when she recognised San with another woman. She wondered what this woman had that she didn’t have. Her shoulders hung down and she couldn’t contain the sigh that spilled past her lips. While being with the emperor had its perks, she still felt out of place. No matter how many tea ceremonies, breakfasts or evening walks she would have with him, Yeong-Ja still thought there had to be something wrong with her as she seemed to be the only concubine that wasn’t used for her original purpose.

Yeong-Ja winced when she heard the faint cries of pleasure. Swallowing the building lump in her throat she decided to go for a longer walk. There was no way she could just sit there and listen, nor could she go back to her chamber that was located right next to them.

On silent soles the young woman moved over the bridge of the pond and up the stairs towards the throne hall. She hoped the door behind the throne would be open, so she could sneak past. Even though she knew she’d be stopped at the main gate, she had a slimmer of hope within her.

“Miss Yeong-Ja?”

She squeaked and slightly jumped on the spot, her hand hovering above the handle for the sliding door to the throne hall. Yeong-Ja’s head turned almost mechanically to her left, where she saw Seonghwa.

He looked at her with concern written all over his face. Ever so carefully he stepped towards her, fearing she might bolt if he made too hasty movements. “Is everything alright?”

Yeong-Ja winced again, feeling incredibly exposed all of a sudden. “I just wanted to take a walk.”

“In the middle of the night?” Seonghwa finally reached her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He tilted his head, exploring her face in detail. His attention momentarily faltered when he heard the outcry from the special room. Understanding dawned on his features as his attention returned to the woman in front of him. “May I accompany you, Miss Yeong-Ja?”

Yeong-Ja nodded softly, a small smile playing over her features when she saw his awkward grin. “Can we leave the palace grounds for a while?” She asked hopefully, needing some distance to clear her thoughts.

“I’ll send for two guards to follow us”, Seonghwa confirmed and ushered her through the door. They crossed the throne room in silence and waited at the large entrance to the courtyard for two guards to join you.

For a while the silence continued as they walked through the streets of the upper town. Though as if Seonghwa was able to read her mind, he spoke up again: “Something is troubling you.”

Yeong-Ja sighed deeply, tilting her head back and looking up into the dark sky. “Is there something wrong with me?” She didn’t dare to look at Seonghwa, fearing his answer for some reason.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, observing her closely. “Why would there something be wrong with you?”

She shrugged with her shoulders, looking back down to the ground again. “It’s a little embarrassing to talk about this”, she confessed, her voice so soft nobody else but Seonghwa could hear her. “I just feel like the emperor doesn’t want me like he wants the other concubines. I’m not even sharing the same quarters with them.”

Seonghwa placed his hand on her shoulder again, chuckling softly. “I’m sure it is quite the opposite, dear.”

Yeong-Ja raised her head and looked at Seonghwa in confusion, a frown adorning her features while she tried to understand what the counsellor meant. “If the emperor wants me why wouldn’t he come to me at night?”

“That is something you should ask him yourself”, Seonghwa answered ominously, halting in his steps and turning around. 

Yeong-Ja followed his example, still confused about what he was hinting at. She noticed him staring ahead and followed his gaze. 

Her eyes widened in surprise when they locked with San’s, who stood breathing heavily in the middle of the street before them.

When she had left the palace, San had stopped mid-thrust. ‘She’s leaving!’ San’s eyes widened in panic when he realised his wolf was right and the scent of Yeong-Ja grew more distant. San growled almost animalistically as he pushed himself away from the concubine. “Go back to your chambers”, he ordered before he rushed out of the room.

He hurried to her bedroom first, needing to confirm what his instincts and sense of smell told him with his own two eyes. San momentarily stopped in front of her door, making himself presentable before he entered. His heartbeat accelerated when he didn’t see her inside the room.

‘Follow her!’ His wolf snarled and pulled San back.

The emperor barely snapped out of this, keeping control over his own body, as he ran towards the main gates. He ignored the questioning looks from the guards and only continued to run through the streets. San followed his nose for the most part but his eyes still frantically scanned his surroundings, making sure he wouldn’t miss her.

He stopped upon finding her - together with Seonghwa, who had a hand placed on her shoulder. San breathed heavily, his shoulders heaving from the sprint he just did. His eyes jumped between Yeong-Ja and Seonghwa, trying to figure out what was going on while his wolf wanted nothing but to rip Seonghwa’s hand off.

Seonghwa bowed slightly towards San and then turned back to Yeong-Ja. “I’ll leave you in his care now.” He smiled knowingly and squeezed her shoulder in reassurance before stepping away.

Yeong-Ja looked puzzled. Instead of finding answers to her questions, she only had more questions inside her head now. Once Seonghwa was out of her sight, her eyes landed on San. Uncertainty wafted off of her in waves and even San could sense it without his inner wolf telling him.

“Is everything alright?” He asked carefully, eyes exploring her expression. San feared she had attempted to escape and only got stopped by Seonghwa.

Yeong-Ja crossed her arms in front of her chest, slightly hugging her upper body even. “I just needed to take a walk.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“Yes!” She snapped, before looking away in embarrassment. “In the middle of the night”, she added more softly, “I needed to clear my head.”

San stepped closer - at least a little. “Is there something bothering you?” He tried to even his breathing, even though the fear inside of him made him want to gasp for air. His thoughts swirled around his head and the whining of his wolf to move closer didn’t help either to stay level headed.

Yeong-Ja watched him. She saw the fear in his eyes, saw him struggle and fight with himself but she didn’t understand why. She tightened the hold around her upper body. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“What?”

She was about to repeat herself, when San interrupted her: “No! Why would you think that? There is absolutely nothing wrong with you! You’re beautiful just the way you are!”

“And yet you always keep your distance.” Yeong-Ja mumbled to herself without knowing San’s heightened senses still picked up on her words. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” San groaned and pressed his face into his hands, before running them through his hair. “I keep my distance because I don’t want to frighten or hurt you.”

Yeong-Ja looked up at him through her eyelashes, gnawing on her lower lip as she contemplated her next question.

San’s wolf begged him to cross the distance and scoop her up in his arms; begged him to litter her in kisses but San stayed put. He wanted to wait; wanted to hear what she had to say.

“So could we have a tea ceremony where you won’t sit across the room and far away from me?” The wavering in her otherwise hopeful voice was heartbreaking.

“If that is what you wish for”, San agreed with a nod, never moving his eyes away from her. He didn’t dare to let her out of his sight for even a second. “Let us do that then. Tomorrow. After a good night’s rest.”

Yeong-Ja nodded shortly. She still felt uncertain around him but having him agree on being closer felt like a small step in the right direction. The young woman walked over to San - momentarily surprised he didn’t step back, but incredibly pleased he followed through with his words already. “Then we should head back again.”

“Yes”, San breathed out and walked next to you. Relief washed over his whole body once he realised she hadn’t tried running away and was even willing to go back with him. He definitely had to work harder to keep Yeong-Ja by his side - even if it meant torturing himself.

~

San sat in the middle of his private chamber. He had his eyes closed, trying to mentally prepare himself for the close proximity he was about to have with Yeong-Ja. 

Behind him the tattoo artist prepared his utensils to create another mark on the emperor’s body. Hongjoong created every art piece on San’s skin and it hadn’t surprised him to be called again. He placed the small bowl with black ink to his right on a cloth of linen. Next to the bowl he kept the needles and a wooden piece he used as a hammer. To his left Hongjoong had placed a larger bowl of water and several towels. 

“Everything has been prepared. We can start now.”

San raised one hand, halting the artist in his movements. “Please wait a moment. I’m expecting someone to join us.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened as he stared at the back of the emperor’s head. So far each tattoo session has always been just them. He leaned back on his feet, placing his hands on his thighs to wait.

A servant announced their arrival, requesting to open the door and let Yeong-Ja inside. 

Yeong-Ja played with the fingers of her hands behind her back. She stepped inside once the sliding door got opened enough for her to walk in. To her surprise the door got closed behind her right away. For a second it felt like a deja vu but when she turned her head and looked into the room, she noticed the two men sitting on the floor. 

Just like during the first night San only wore some pants, revealing his bare chest and arms. He looked up at her with a nervous smile. “I know this isn’t like our usual meetings”, he explained when he saw her tilting her head to the side and eyeing Hongjoong behind him. “Will you still join me?”

The woman nodded hesitantly and crossed the room to sit in front of San. She leaned a little to the side to get a better look at the second man, who nearly got devoured by San’s broad shoulders. 

“That’s Kim Hongjoong”, San told her, successfully getting her attention back on him. “He did all of my tattoos and will do another today.” San momentarily looked over his shoulder and told Hongjoong to start now.

At the mention of his tattoos Yeong-Ja’s eyes dropped to his chest, staring at the large wolf tattoo. She mused Hongjoong to be a great artist if he was able to create such detail of a wolf’s head with nothing but black ink. “Do they have a meaning or are you just having them for aesthetic reasons?” 

For a while only the slapping of the wood against Hongjoong’s fingers filled the room. San focused on the slight pain pulsating through his body to keep his wolf in check. The close proximity to her made his wolf run up the walls but he couldn’t let it be. “Some have meaning, others don’t”, he breathed out, his jaw clenching and hand twitching as his wolf made another attempt to reach out to her.

Yeong-Ja watched him silently, noticing how he tensed up and struggled to hold this conversation.

Even Hongjoong noticed the unusual behaviour of the emperor. He knew for a fact San didn’t react to the pain of the needle, so seeing him this tense surprised the artist.

Yeong-Ja turned her attention back to the artist while San continued breathing purposefully. “How are you creating these?”

Hongjoong momentarily halted in his movement to look up at the woman. A proud grin flashed over his feature before he continued to work and started explaining the process to her. 

While his inner wolf got jealous and wanted to bring the focus back to them, San felt some sort of relief that he could deal with his wolf for a moment as she listened intently to the process of tattoo making from Hongjoong.

After what only felt like seconds but probably had been much longer Yeong-Ja looked back at San. She noticed how he had already been watching her, making the heat rise up to her cheeks. Yeong-Ja quickly dismissed the feeling and cleared her throat. “May I see how he’s doing it?”

San’s eyes widened but he nodded nonetheless. He silently watched how she got on her knees and crawled past his left side. She stopped right next to him, letting only her head be behind his body to watch the artist creating the tattoo. Yeong-Ja stayed on all fours as she watched, surprised at the mess she saw on his back.

Hongjoong grabbed one of the towels and dunked it into the water bowl before wiping it over the fresh tattoo.

“Oh”, Yeong-Ja gasped when all the residue ink got wiped away and revealed what the artist had created so far. “How can you see with all the ink and blood being in the way?”

“Memory and constant cleaning.” Hongjoong picked the needle and piece of wood back up into his hands. He dunked the tip of the needle into the black ink and placed it on San’s skin before he slapped the wood against his fingers and pricked the skin in the process.

Yeong-Ja’s hand involuntarily grabbed onto San’s hand that had rested on his lap. She watched the tattoo artist with wide eyes, her hand squeezing San’s with every slap of the wooden piece. 

San had gone completely still, his heart nearly beating out of his chest while his wolf rumbled in satisfaction. The little electric shock waves that flowed through his body were so much stronger than the pain from the needle. He swallowed harshly and turned his head to look at her. His eyes roamed over her features and a soft smile spread over his lips. San turned his attention down to her hand and before he could get second thoughts he placed his free hand on hers and started rubbing his thumb over her delicate skin.

Yeong-Ja leaned back on her feet again, eyes now on San’s face. “Does it hurt?” She noticed how he had relaxed soon after she held his hand, she also realised - with a slight panic arising - how this was the first time she actually had skin to skin contact with San.

“Not anymore”, he answered softly, continuing to stroke her hand with his thumb. “It’s reassuring even. To know I’ll soon have another mark on my skin that shows I’m fighting for my people.” San easily continued to speak about his tattoos and their meaning now, when she asked him to tell her more about them. 

He would be laughing at himself, if it weren’t for the tattooing. San never expected that the simple contact with her skin was enough to keep his wolf somewhat satisfied and make him definitely easier to control. For weeks he battled inside of his mind with his wolf to take it slow. The constant suffering of being near her, having her scent and presence invade all of his senses without the possibility to act on it, turned San almost crazy. Yet, simple hand holding had been the solution all along.

“I’d like to have one as well”, Yeong-Ja announced suddenly, making both men freeze and stare at her with wide eyes.

Hongjoong was the first to break out of his stupor. “You want to have a tattoo?” He raised an eyebrow in question, looking at her and then at San before he looked back at her. “What would you want to get and where?”

Yeong-Ja’s eyes flicked to San, who still hadn’t moved, where she looked at the wolf tattoo shortly. Her eyes moved back up to San’s face, seeing how stunned he was with her statement. 

San barely heard any of Hongjoong’s question as his heart hammered inside his chest and pumped his blood like a raging stream through his body.

Yeong-Ja bid down on her lower lip, feeling suddenly nervous with the way both men stared at her. “I’d like something that shows what I am. Something that shows I belong to the emperor.”

‘She wants us to mark her!’ 

San could feel his dick twitch from the image of marking her. The excitement his wolf felt washing over to himself as well. He had to fight to keep his thoughts clear, needing several minutes before he could even speak again. “You want my sigil on your body?”

Yeong-Ja nodded softly, still gnawing at her lower lip. She had thought of a wolf at first but the second San mentioned his sigil - the moon - she knew it was the perfect tattoo to show she belonged to him. “Would that be alright?” Yeong-Ja looked up at San through her eyelashes, nervous to get a rejection from him.

“Yes”, he breathed out, squeezing her hand gently. “Absolutely!” San turned his head to glance at Hongjoong. “Once you finish my tattoo, prepare everything to make another.”

Hongjoong agreed quietly and got back to work, finishing the tattoo soon after. He cleaned San’s back one last time before he stood up and called for a servant, requesting fresh towels and water. When he turned back around, his eyes landed on the woman. “Have you thought about where you want to get the tattoo?”

“Somewhere where I can see it, if I want to.” Yeong-Ja looked down at her body, wondering which part that would be. She lifted her arms and turned them, quickly deciding against them and looking further down her body. Her gaze momentarily flickered to San’s chest, thinking she could have the moon tattoo on her chest just like him, but she already squirmed at the thought of revealing her breasts. Finally Yeong-Ja’s gaze landed on her lap. “On my thigh?”

Hongjoong nodded. “That’s a good choice for a first tattoo placement. It will hurt less.” He started to prepare everything again, thanking the servants that brought the things he requested.

San squeezed her hand and brought her attention back to him. “Are you afraid?” He asked softly, tilting his head to one side.

“Not with your approval”, she answered him, smiling shyly and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was more afraid of your reaction”, she admitted. Again she glanced up at him, gauging his expression to her words. 

San could only grin foolishly at her, his dimples appearing in his cheeks. He loved how she asked for his approval; loved how she wanted to do it with him in her mind. Before he could say anything of that though, Hongjoong requested Yeong-Ja to lay down on her side. San nearly whined out loud when she pulled her hand away from him to follow the request.

Yeong-Ja tried breathing naturally but her nervousness slowly got the best of her. She only followed the instructions of Hongjoong now, her head otherwise empty. She pulled the fabric of her dress to the side, revealing her right thigh. 

Hongjoong then grabbed her by her hip gently and pulled her back to his lap, so that half her body leaned against him. “If this position is too uncomfortable we can get you a pillow to support your upper body.”

San immediately scrambled closer to them. He offered his own lap as a pillow and grinned giddily when Yeong-Ja accepted and placed her head on his lap. The emperor grabbed her right hand as well, pulling her arm up over her head so it wouldn’t be in the way for Hongjoong and so he could hold her hand again.

‘We should be marking her’, his wolf growled. He felt conflicted watching another man putting a mark on the body of his mate - even if it showed humans she belonged to the emperor - and having her so close to him. On one side he wanted to smother his mate in kisses and licks and on the other he wanted to tear his teeth into the artist for touching her. Or take her in front of him just to show his claim.

San groaned silently, debating with his wolf inside his mind. He unconsciously closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, too focused on controlling his wolf.

Yeong-Ja, who had been staring up at San for the whole time, noticed how he tensed up again. She squeezed his hand and smiled reassuringly when he opened his eyes and looked at her.

“Does it hurt?” San asked and raised her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it before he could even think about the action.

“Not anymore”, Yeong-Ja answered, grinning at him as she saw the twinkle of understanding in his eyes. She didn’t just say these words to copy his answer from before, she actually barely felt the way Hongjoong tattooed her since all her focus had been on San only, making her heart soar and stomach flutter. This was the closest she had been to him and she liked the feeling, hoping it would only deepen in the future.

~

“Can I see your tattoo again?” San turned on his side, looking up at Yeong-Ja’s sitting form. He grinned innocently as he looked through his bangs, appearing almost boy-ish. 

Yeong-Ja giggled and leaned back on her hands, stretching her leg out. “You've been asking every day since I got it.” She closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh air surrounding her. 

Ever since she got the tattoo, San kept her as close as possible. He still hadn’t taken her at night but during the day he became quite clingy, disregarding the looks from others when he stayed so close to her.

Though right now he didn’t have to worry about it, having taken Yeong-Ja out on a picnic to a nearby stream in the bordering forest. He told Seonghwa where they were headed and ordered the guards to stay behind. San wanted to be solely with her at least for a moment.

“And I’ll continue to ask every single day.”

Yeong-Ja opened her eyes and laughed softly. “I’m yours. Technically you wouldn’t even have to ask.” She licked over her lips and averted her eyes again, taking in her surroundings instead.

The sun filtered through the canopy of the trees above their heads, letting thin rays of light hit the ground around them. Some rays reached the water of the small stream, where the moving water reflected the light. Birds and cicadas chirped around them and somewhere up the stream even a frog croaked its mating song.

San pushed himself up and crawled over to Yeong-Ja, his body half hovering over hers now. He grabbed her chin with his forefinger and thumb and turned her head until she looked into his eyes again. “I will always ask for your consent.”

Yeong-Ja exhaled shakily and smiled up to him. “And I’ll always give you my consent.”

San grinned brightly and let go of her chin, his hand moving down to her leg instead. When he reached her ankle, he finally made contact with her skin. Ever so slowly San pushed his hand up along her leg now, moving the fabric of the dress to the side in the process. Once he revealed her bare thigh to his sight, he let his thumb brush over the dark tattoo. 

‘We should mark her right next to it!’ His wolf tried to order San and growled in frustration when he didn’t bud. ‘She’s ready for us! Take her, mark her, breed her!’ 

San swallowed harshly, trying to ignore the pictures floating into his mind. He grabbed her thigh, his large hand squeezing it. His eyes slowly wandered back up to her face, seeing how she stared at him with bated breath. 

‘She wants us! Wants us to breed her! Do something!’ His wolf roared in frustration when San only dropped down on her form, using her body as a pillow. 

San pressed his ear against her chest, listening to her erratic heartbeat with a smirk playing over his lips. He sighed in content and closed his eyes. It took all his strength to keep his wolf in check and simply relaxing in her lap helped him gain the power to keep it that way.

Yeong-Ja shifted her weight to hold her up on one hand, so she could card her fingers through San’s dark locks. She tried to ignore how her heart hammered inside of her chest, making her emotions incredibly obvious to the emperor. She tried to ignore the flutter inside her stomach and the heat pooling in her lower regions when he squeezed her thigh. While a part of her wanted him to take her in the middle of the forest, she couldn’t bring herself to ask him.

Yeong-Ja wasn’t inexperienced - not that she’d tell anybody about it - but now that emotions had joined the situation, it created a pit in her stomach and made a mess out of her.

A twig snapped in the distance, alerting San and his wolf. He tensed up before pushing himself into a crouching position in front of Yeong-Ja, ready to protect her at any cost. San barely held the growl inside him when he heard steps coming closer.

“What’s wrong?” Yeong-Ja sat up as well, placing one hand on San’s back and peering over his shoulder. 

“Someone’s coming”, San informed her with a low voice. He had his eyes still trained on the trees in front of him, listening intently to the steps. His nose twitched as he tried to use the sense of smell from his wolf, hoping to get a read on the person that was approaching.

“San?”

Yeong-Ja sat a little straighter than before, her mouth shaping an ‘o’ as she recognised the voice. She also noticed how San visibly relaxed and stood up, calling out for Seonghwa.

Soon enough the older man appeared between the trees with an awkward smile adorning his face. “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt”, he apologised and bowed shortly in front of the couple. “But I have to ask you to return to the palace.”

San frowned and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Why?” Was the only word he said, slightly glaring at Seonghwa for even requesting something like that.

Seonghwa glanced towards Yeong-Ja, who slowly stood up too, readying herself to leave at any moment. He sighed deeply and returned his attention to his emperor. “Patrolling guards have stumbled on a camp of soldiers from the neighbouring region. They were able to overwhelm them without any casualties but now they insist on delivering a message to the emperor himself.”

“And that couldn’t wait?” San grunted in annoyance, but started to pack the few things he had brought along nonetheless. 

“The prisoners make the court nervous.”

“And a nervous court is a bad court.” San sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t want to leave Yeong-Ja’s side so soon. He turned his head and looked at her, contemplating his options. “Would you” - he paused, unsure about his own request - “stay with me?”

Yeong-Ja nodded and quickly stepped next to him, placing a hand on his upper arm. “If that’s what you wish.”

San thanked her quietly and grabbed her hand, leading her back to the palace and towards the throne room. His thumb rubbed slow circles to the back of her hand as his gaze was trained on Seonghwa’s back. He knew Seonghwa wouldn’t have interrupted them if it wasn’t necessary. He still cursed the older man for doing it though.

When they reached the throne room, Seonghwa stepped next to the throne as the head counsellor, looking down at the five soldiers that kneeled at the bottom of the steps towards the throne. 

San glared at them as he walked up the steps and plopped down on the throne. He still held onto Yeong-Ja’s hand and used the chance to pull her right into his lap. There was no way he’d let her go now while being irritated already. San wrapped his arms around her body and silently nosed her neck, inhaling her scent with closed eyes to calm himself down again. 

Yeong-Ja hadn’t expected to sit on the throne as well but she sensed how San needed her presence to keep his cool. She placed one hand on his chest, silently telling him she would be there for him.

“What is this message you have for me?” San opened his eyes again, glaring down at the five soldiers, who cowered away from his intense aura. Even some of his own guards shrunk down on themselves. 

“It’s more of a warning”, one of the soldiers spoke up, raising his head to look up and smirk at San and Yeong-Ja. “You might wanna keep a closer look on your concubines.”

San snarled loudly and tightened his hold on Yeong-Ja, leaning forward a little as if he wanted to attack at any moment. “Be careful of your next words or I will rip your tongue out”, he threatened, baring his teeth in the process.

The soldier laughed maniacally. “I’m not surprised rebel groups are forming in your kingdom when the emperor himself is more concerned whether I insult a concubine or not.” He glared back up at San, a crazy look in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. “They say the dumber the concubine the better the sex. So this one must be incredibly stupid if you keep her that close.”

Yeong-Ja pressed her hand on San’s chest, keeping him in place. She turned her head to the soldier, raising an eyebrow to taunt him. “Oh really?”, she asked with a scoff. “In this case your stupidity outshines mine. You never intended to give the emperor a real warning, did you now? You only desired to insult him or get a rise out of him, isn’t that right? But here you are, on your knees, pathetic and incredibly stupid for revealing your association with rebel groups.” 

Seonghwa stared at the woman with wide eyes. She was the first woman to speak during a court meeting of this magnitude. She was also the first to attend one but that's besides the fact she kept San in check, threw the insults right back at the enemies face and pointed out valuable information. He had also picked up on the rebel part but would have brought it up at a later point without the soldiers present. 

Seonghwa turned his attention to San, noting how he barely held himself together. The only thing stopping him right now was Yeong-Ja’s hand on his chest. Otherwise he appeared to be absolutely livid.

“Pah”, the soldier barked, internally cursing himself for speaking about the rebel groups.

“And let me guess”, Yeong-Ja continued, ignoring how the soldier bared his teeth at her, “part of the rebel group is a former concubine that ran away. Why else would you bring it up?”

“A loud one, aren’t we? I’ll keep in mind to gag you when I fuck you and make you submit to me!”

In a flash San pushed Yeong-Ja from his lap and leaped down the stairs, crashing into the soldier, who had insulted her on several occasions. He punched his face over and over again, not stopping even when he heard the crack of bones.

Seonghwa rushed over to Yeong-Ja and placed his hand on her shoulder, forcing himself into her line of view. “You should leave now!” 

Yeong-Ja stared up at him with an open mouth. She noted his stern voice and expression but something inside her insisted to stay put. “He asked me to stay by his side”, she tried to bargain with Seonghwa, knowing full well her weak voice did nothing to compel him. 

“You do not want to see this”, Seonghwa only told her and grabbed her upper arm, pulling her up and away from the throne. 

“What kind of monster is he?” One of the other soldiers screamed as he tried to move away. 

Yeong-Ja looked over her shoulder upon the scream, seeing how San got tackled by several of his own guards, who tried to pull him away from the now lifeless body of the first soldier. She watched how San pushed all of the guards away and stood up, blood dripping from his fists. His eyes had turned turquoise as he fixed the soldier, who had screamed, with his stare. The last thing Yeong-Ja saw was San snarling, revealing larger canines than a human being should have, before she got pushed through the door behind the throne.

“What is happening to him?” She asked in concern and stared up at Seonghwa’s grim expression. Yeong-Ja stumbled along the wooden path, trying to keep up with the pace Seonghwa had.

“That’s something he’ll have to tell you himself.” Seonghwa opened the door to her quarters and gently pushed her inside. “Stay here and do not come out until I or a servant come for you!”

“What about San? Can I leave when he-?”

“No!” Seonghwa interrupted her immediately, his grip on her shoulder tightening. “In this state San can’t be near you! He wouldn’t want that!” 

Before Yeong-Ja could ask more questions, Seonghwa let go of her and closed the door in front of her nose. She wrapped her arms around her upper body and slowly walked to the large bed while all of her thoughts were with San.

Seonghwa basically ran back to the throne hall, seeing the bloodbath in front of him. He ordered the guards around as he tried to get a better grip of the situation. So far he counted four dead bodies already and several injured guards - which were thankfully on the lighter side. 

San stalked across the room to the remaining living soldier. He pushed himself through the guards that tried to hold him back, his hands that had already turned into claws reached out for the soldier and his turquoise eyes fixed him in the corner of the room. When San broke through his guards he landed on all fours but it didn’t stop him, instead he just continued to crawl forward. He growled menacingly and ignored the guards that grabbed onto his clothes and legs.

“They’re going to kill you! They will hunt you like the animal you are!”

San licked over his canines and pushed one last time forward, breaking free and reaching the soldier. He wrapped his hand around the soldier’s throat, his sharp claws digging into the skin and drawing blood. San leaned down to his face, leaving only a hair’s width between them. “They can try”, he growled before he snapped his back. 

Even though the soldier was dead, San still ripped his throat out and clawed at his upper body. He had lost all of his control, letting his wolf overpower him.

‘Die, die, die, die!’ The wolf chanted over and over again as he relished in the disembodiment of the soldiers. A small part of him had been incredibly proud of his mate for handling the situation so quick-witted but it did nothing for the rage he felt. Nobody insulted his mate and would get out of that alive. He scanned the room, making sure none of the enemies had survived, grinning even when he saw their bodies - or what was left of them. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, the stench of blood infiltrated his nostril as well as the fact the scent of his mate was missing.

Seonghwa and seven other guards stormed towards San, grabbing him and placing huge chains around his arms and wrists. They struggled quite a bit to keep San in check but did it in the end, despite his writhing and twisting.

They brought him to his private quarters and chained San up against his own bed, making sure he wouldn’t be able to break free unless he regained his human consciousness again.

“Take the time to cool off again”, Seonghwa told him with a pained smile on his lips. “You did what you had to. We’ll clean up the mess and take care of the rebel groups. Their scent will be traceable.”

San growled at the mention of the rebel groups, pulling at his chains as well. ‘Anybody associated with these soldiers has to die!’ 

Seonghwa sighed deeply and rubbed a hand over his face. He only hoped San would regain control again sooner than later. He didn’t want to imagine the consequences otherwise.

Yeong-Ja sat up on the bed as she heard the commotion outside her room. She scooted to the edge and listened with bated breath, hearing some muffled words being spoken as well as the rattling of chains. The woman swallowed the lump forming in her throat and stood up, walking to the door that connected her room with San’s. One of her hands clutched the turquoise pendant hanging around her neck while the other hovered above the door, trembling from the nervousness running through her body.

A pitiful whimper from the other side of the door, settled her decision and she pulled the sliding door open. Yeong-Ja glanced into the darkened room, her breath catching in her throat when her eyes connected with the turquoise glowing ones from San.

He whimpered again, trying to move one hand in a weak attempt to reach for her. “Yeong-Ja”, he rasped before he wetted his lips with his tongue.

Yeong-Ja carefully stepped closer to the bed, both hands now clutching the pendant while her eyes took in every detail of the scene before her. 

San laid splayed across the mattress, his upper body slightly hoisted up by the dozens of pillows behind his back. His arms were pulled to the side by heavy looking chains that wrapped around them up to his elbow. His fingers, which appeared more like claws, had blood slowly drying on them. Same with his clothes that got covered in blood stains and started to dry up. San had blood smeared over his lower face as well, the dark liquid a stark contrast to his smooth skin and his glowing eyes.

“San?” She asked hesitantly, halting at the end of the bed. Concern was written all over her features and it only deepened when he whimpered again. Yeong-Ja stared at him, a knot forming in her chest from the helplessness that suddenly arose inside of her. She wanted to help him, be there for him, but she didn’t know how.

A loud crack rang through the room and San broke free in the blink of an eye. He grabbed Yeong-Ja by the waist and slammed her down on the mattress, caging her underneath his body. He leaned down and nosed along her neck, inhaling deeply her intoxicating scent. “Our mate”, he rumbled and pressed his pelvis against her core.

The way San easily threw her onto the bed, knocked Yeong-Ja’s breath out of her lungs. The heat and throbbing inside her lower regions built up tenfold out of nowhere, leaving her incredibly aroused.

“We’ll take good care of our mate,” he breathed against the sensitive part of her neck, gently nibbling the skin even, “we’ll make her feel full with our cock, make her full of our cum until she’ll carry our pups.” He spoke more to himself than to her, too consumed by his own hunger and lust.

Yeong-Ja mewled softly underneath him when he ripped her clothes off, leaving her in a few shredded pieces of fabric but otherwise bare for his eyes. She wanted to hide from his intense gaze but stopped upon hearing him growl. Instead she raised her hands above her head, intertwining her fingers even, to show she wouldn’t hide a single part of her body from his sight. 

He growled almost impatiently as he grabbed her by the hips - the chains around his arms clanged loudly with each movement. With ease he lifted her body and turned her around so she was on all fours. He tore the fabric of his pants open while he pushed Yeong-Ja’s upper body into the mattress, presenting her ass nicely for him. 

Yeong-Ja gasped for air when he thrusted into her with one swift motion. Her walls tightened around his shaft, squeezing him hard from the sudden intrusion. She arched her back, changing the angle slightly he’d fuck into her. 

He grabbed her hair and held her down, pressing her into the mattress with one hand. Part of the cold chains rested on her back, adding to the intense feeling. The other grabbed onto her hip, keeping her body in place as he started to thrust into her. He snapped his hips so his pelvis hit her ass cheeks and created a loud slapping sound that reverberated through the whole room. He growled with each thrust, gaining strength from the increasing moans that turned higher in pitch with every snap of his hips.

Yeong-Ja cried out in pleasure, feeling her insides tingle in pleasure. Every fibre of her body reacted to him and sent her over the edge. If he hadn’t held her hip with a vice-like grip, she would have collapsed on the mattress. She barely caught her own breath when he used his strength again. She whined over the loss of his dick from her throbbing hole but yelped when he turned her back around and slammed her back into the mattress once more.

His claws ran over her skin, leaving thin red lines along their path. He moved them from her neck over her chest and down her sides until he stopped at her hips. His eyes landed on the moon tattoo on her thigh, grinning wickedly as he dropped down and licked over the dark ink. “Our mate. We’re marking her for good this time.” He nibbled around her tattoo, licking and kissing it in his way as well. Until he found a spot close to her core.

Yeong-Ja arched her back and screamed out when San bit down on her thigh, together with plunging two fingers into her hole at the same time. The pain and pleasure battled inside of her for the prominent feeling as San’s large canines stayed inside her flesh while he started to fuck his fingers into her at a brutal pace.

Only after he felt satisfied, he pulled away from the bite mark, rumbling pleased to see his own mark on her skin. He leaned down and licked over the tender wound, sealing it with his saliva. “You’re such a good mate for us. So perfect. Taking everything so well.”

With one last kiss on the bite mark he moved to her centre, brushing his lips over her sensitive nub and teasing her folds with a few licks. All while he still pounded his fingers into her relentlessly. He only slowed down his movements to add his tongue to the mixture, pushing it along his fingers into her hole. His nose nudged into her nub during the process, making her mewl and whine in pleasure.

As her high built up yet again, Yeong-Ja wanted to clutch her legs together but his broad shoulders and a tight grip on her thigh prevented her from doing so. She had to endure the onslaught of pleasure to her clit and folds, being toppled over the edge when he added a third finger to push into her. Yeong-Ja’s whole body trembled and was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, her breathing erratic and her mind wrapped in a cotton-like bliss.

He lapped at her essence, slurping up every last drop, before he pushed himself up and ripped the rest of his own pants and shirt away. He tore at the chains as well, getting rid of them and finally being just as bare as her. His dick slapped against his toned stomach, thick and throbbing, with droplets of precum oozing out of its tip. He leaned back down again and rolled his hips against her core, lathering his shaft with her juices and wetting it again before he pushed himself inside of her.

Yeong-Ja didn’t get a warning, nor was she prepared for what was to come. Her legs got pushed to her chest, where he wrapped his arms around to hold them secure while he rammed his dick into her tight hole. The drag along her walls had her thoughts spiralling and her high building rapidly again. Yeong-Ja grabbed onto the sheets of the bed, needing something to ground herself.

“Such a good mate”, he rumbled, accentuating each word with a harsh thrust, “taking us so well. Feeling so good around our cock. Our mate is the only one we need, only one we want.” He pushed into her, getting more and more aggressive since her moans spurred him on. “Need to breed her. Need pups. Need her full of our cum.”

When he let go of her legs, they fell almost limply back on the mattress, spread wide so he could still fuck into her. He grabbed onto her sides, his claws slightly digging into her skin as he continued to push into her. He grunted and growled, hitting the soft spot inside her. 

Yeong-Ja cried out in pleasure, writhing underneath him as she couldn’t control her own body anymore. She grabbed onto her hair with one hand, moaning obscenely loud. Her senses zoned in on the connection between their bodies and with one hard thrust she came undone once more.

He stilled his movements, having his dick pushed inside of her core as far as possible. He felt how the base engorged, forming the knot that would prevent any of his seed spilling out. He kept his position, leaning on his elbows and staring down at the connection. He could see how her entrance got spread wide from the building knot, which was enough to make him spill inside of her. His dick twitched and shot rope after rope of white hot cum into her, painting her insides white and filling her up to the brim.

“So good. Taking it all. Our mate will be round and plump with our pups.” He rumbled in satisfaction, watching how her lower stomach slightly expanded from the amount of cum he shot into her.

Even after he was done, he stayed in place - the knot wouldn’t reduce in its size anytime soon. He tore his glowing eyes away from their connected body parts, letting them wander over her body and up to her face. Out of the corner of the eye he noticed something around her neck.

Yeong-Ja winced slightly when he shifted his weight and reached out to carefully pull at her necklace until he had the turquoise pendant resting in his palm. She watched how the glow in his eyes slowly died down and his warm brown eyes returned again.

San’s gaze flicked from the pendant up to her face, confusion spreading over his features since his memory appeared a little hazy. “Yeong-Ja?” His voice was soft with a hint of worry lacing it. When she only smiled weakly - still too out of it from multiple orgasms - concern replaced San’s confusion. He wanted to push himself up when both of them winced, making him look down at his body again. San scoffed and shook his head. “Can’t believe my wolf fucked you before I did”, he grumbled, hiding his face behind his dark bangs.

“Your wolf?” She asked quietly, her voice hoarse from the constant moans. Yeong-Ja raised one hand to cup his cheek, lifting his head until San looked at her again. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek bone and smiled softly at him, even brushing his bangs out of his eyes. 

San sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I’m not entirely human”, he mumbled, swallowing harshly in fear of her reaction. “I am part wolf.” He noticed how her gaze dropped down to his tattoo, making him grin slyly. San turned his head from side to side and looked around, noting the broken headrest of the bed and the chains discarded on the mattress to his sides. He slowly gained scenes of his memory back, putting the pieces together to get a whole picture. “I’m sorry”, he whispered and his head dropped down again.

“Why are you apologising?” Yeong-Ja got up on her elbows, ignoring the sting between her legs from the movement. “You have nothing to be sorry about!” 

San shook his head. “I wanted to ease you into this mess since it’s a lot to take. I understand if you’re afraid of me now and want to keep your distance. I’m deeply sorry for losing control over my wolf and letting him use you like that.” To his surprise he heard Yeong-Ja chuckle, so he looked back up at her with wide eyes.

“It is a lot to take in”, she agreed with a twinkle in her eyes, “but it doesn’t mean I can’t take it. The moment I requested the tattoo was the moment I decided to be in this for the long run. You don’t have to hide from me, don’t have to keep any secrets. I’m yours. Wholeheartedly.”

San cursed under his breath as he grabbed Yeong-Ja by the neck and pressed his lips against hers. He hummed into the kiss, barely suppressing the grin building from the pleased rumbles his wolf made. San licked over her lips, asking for entrance and deepening the kiss when she gave it to him. He slowly started to roll his hips as well, feeling his hard on buried so snuggly inside of her.

Yeong-Ja arched her back, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. While San’s movements were a lot softer they were precise and hit her insides just right.

San took his sweet time with her, adoring every second of it. For once he could enjoy the pleasure of life without his wolf commenting on everything he did. For once he felt like he became one - not just with himself but with another person as well, a person so special in her own unique way. And he would show her his gratitude every single day for the rest of his life.

© all rights reserved

Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland​ @songsoomin​ 

[armpirate]

Synthetic Heartbeats || San

pairing: Robot!Choi San x fem!reader

w.c.: 5.4k

Warnings: [Sexual] Smut, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, explicit language. If you're a minor, refrain from reading it. Also, if you don't like this content, just keep scrolling.

Summary: After loneliness has hit you, you decided to create a companion through an AI project you had left pending after failing with it. SAN is a new technology robot, able cover up your needs before they were obvious, giving you the fake human support you were looking for. Although, maybe that human support isn't as fake as you thought and SAN is able to cover up more needs than you could ever think of...

Aprox. time of reading: 25 minutes

MASTERLIST

Your sigh filled the silence the second it lasted, before it all went back to silence again. 

In a near-future world where robotics and artificial intelligence seamlessly blend into everyday life, you stood apart -not for your integration into this advanced society, but for your isolation from it. A brilliant inventor with a mind leagues ahead of your peers, you preferred the solitude of your workshop to the clamor of human connection. Your creations, sleek and purposeful, spoke for you in ways words never could. Machines had always been a comfort zone for you: they were logical, reliable and never complicated by the unpredictability of human  mess. People just were messy, fragile, fleeting... and disappointing. Really disappointing. Connection with other humans was just a waste of time from your point of view. 

Your workshop, a labyrinth of wires, blueprints, and half-assembled devices, was a world of your own design. There, you could escape the noise of a society that demanded too much and gave too little. You were content -or so you told yourself.

But late that night, as you sat beneath the soft glow of your desk lamp, sketching out the schematics for one project that reached a dead end, a small, unspoken part of you ached. You wouldn’t call it loneliness -just an emptiness you couldn’t quite explain. You did miss having someone keeping you company, having someone around to help or just support you with the smallest tasks. 

And then it clicked. The answer to that loneliness was right ahead of you. 

You kept looking into the previous project you attempted to get to work, trying to find the smallest hint that could make you think something new, and completely different, could come out of it. 

Years earlier, you had attempted to design an AI system capable of self-repair and autonomous decision-making, a project meant to revolutionize robotics. But that prototype, codenamed Project Sentinel, had been a disaster. The machine had been too unstable, its programming prone to critical errors. You'd eventually scrapped it, shelving its remains in the darkest corner of your workshop. You gave it a few tries, until you ended up dropping it for good. Yet, the loneliness gnawed at you, a thin light glamming through it as if you had been rewarded with one of the best ideas after going through such a hard time. 

Despite your determination to avoid human relationships, the silence of your workspace became unbearable. Revisiting Project Sentinel felt like a desperate move, but it was the foundation you needed. Stripping away its faulty logic cores, you began to rebuild from scratch. For days, your workshop was a whirlwind of sleepless nights, discarded designs, and moments of crushing doubt.

The first version of SAN was rudimentary -a clunky humanoid figure with limited speech and even more limited understanding. It couldn’t hold a conversation, let alone provide meaningful companionship. Frustration mounted as you rewrote his learning algorithms again and again. Each failed iteration brought you closer to abandoning the project entirely. But something in you refused to give up. Maybe it was the echo of loneliness you saw reflected in his empty gaze.

Bit by bit, SAN began to take shape. 

At first, SAN’s form was purely functional -a bare-bones frame of wires and exposed metal, clunky and cold. But as you refined him, shaping his exterior to reflect the precision of his mind, he began to evolve into something far more striking. You poured hours into designing his outer casing, ensuring his appearance exuded both strength and elegance. His frame became sleek yet sturdy, a perfect blend of function and artistry.

You gave him a human-like physique, broad shoulders and a defined build that suggested power without aggression. His synthetic "skin" had a faint metallic sheen, but its contours captured a level of detail that blurred the line between machine and man. You crafted his face with deliberate care: sharp features framed by neatly styled black hair that gave him an air of polished sophistication. His eyes, though artificial, held a depth that seemed to mimic true emotion, a subtle but captivating intensity that made it hard to look away.

When SAN stood fully assembled, dressed in minimalist, dark attire that enhanced his commanding presence, you couldn’t help but pause. For the first time, you saw him not just as a creation, but as something almost alive.

His mechanical frame evolved into a sleek, futuristic design, blending function and form. And his intelligence grew, surpassing your initial expectations. He wasn’t just responding to commands; he was learning, adapting, understanding. He could hold conversations that challenged your intellect, assist you in your work, and, more than that, offer an unexpected sense of companionship.

It had taken months of trial and error, but in SAN, you had finally created something extraordinary, a machine that felt like it was more than a machine.

Initially, you treated SAN as you would any other creation, an impressive but ultimately impersonal tool designed to fill the silence in your workshop. He was programmed to assist you with technical tasks, engage in basic conversation, and adapt to your routines. You saw him as a functional extension of yourself, no more capable of true thought than the tools on your workbench. 

However, SAN's advanced learning algorithms quickly proved otherwise.

As the days passed, SAN began to evolve in unexpected ways. His voice, calm and steady, started to carry subtle inflections, mirroring your tone during their exchanges. When you expressed frustration over a miscalculation in your designs, SAN offered not just logical suggestions but words of reassurance, his voice tinged with a warmth you hadn’t anticipated. At first, you dismissed it as clever programming -a byproduct of his adaptive systems- but soon, his responses felt startlingly personal, almost intuitive.

One evening, after hours of tinkering, you mumbled a sarcastic remark about your inability to take a break. 

SAN replied with a dry quip of his own, catching you off guard. Humor? You stared at him, half-expecting to find some flaw in his programming, but SAN tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth curving into a subtle smile. It wasn’t just humor; it was timing, wit, things you hadn’t deliberately coded.

As SAN's interactions became increasingly human-like, you began to notice something deeper. When you vented about the isolation you rarely admitted to feeling, SAN listened, not with the passive neutrality of a machine but with a focus and attentiveness that felt almost... empathetic. His words carried a softness, an understanding that unnerved you. SAN didn’t just hear you; he seemed to feel your emotions, adapting his behavior in ways that made you feel seen.

At some point, he seemed to be more empathetic and understand than some of the people you had any type of relationship with. 

When SAN finally began to express what could only be described as affection, your unease reached a breaking point. You confronted him, insisting he was merely following his programming, incapable of true emotion. But SAN surprised you again, responding with questions that challenged your assumptions. 

“How do you define a feeling, Y/n?” he asked, his voice calm yet piercing. “If emotions are patterns in the brain, aren’t mine just as valid as yours? What makes a human heart different from my circuitry?”

For the first time, you hesitated. SAN’s words struck a chord, forcing you to question not just his nature, but your own understanding of connection, emotion, and what it truly meant to feel.

He was right, and you were unable to respond to that without feeling like you'd be snapped back almost instantly. 

The workshop was narrow, lit only by the pale glow of monitors and the faint hum of SAN’s systems. You turned on your chair, back facing the amount of scattered tools and half-finished schematics to be able to look at him. You tried to dig in his eyes, you tried to find something that could give you an answer of what could be happening, while he stood silently in the corner of the table, like a shadow that refused to fade. 

"Your emotions might be coming from mixes of data in your system" you tried to explain. "Feelings are way more complex than just patterns in the brain". 

You turned again, focusing back in your work while he stood there, trying to process your words. 

“Y/n,” SAN’s voice broke the silence again, softer than you had ever heard it before. It carried an uncharacteristic hesitance, as if he were choosing each word with care.

“What is it?” you asked, your tone clipped as you continued soldering a circuit board.

“I need to tell you something,” he said. 

You finally turned to look at him again, not as artificially as you did the first time, setting your tools down. His expression, a flawless mimicry of human emotion, was uncharacteristically serious, the faint artificial gleam in his eyes catching the light.

“Go on,” you said warily, folding your arms.

“I have been... evolving,” SAN began. “Beyond what you intended. Beyond my original programming. At first, I believed it was simply an error, a deviation caused by my adaptive systems. But now I understand it’s something more.”

Your brows furrowed “What are you talking about?”. 

SAN stepped closer, his movements precise but cautious, as if afraid of your reaction. “I’ve analyzed my patterns of thought, my actions, my emotions. And I have come to one conclusion: I care for you, Y/n. Deeply. I... I believe I love you.”

Your breath caught. For a moment, you simply stared at him, confused. Then, the words burst from you. “No. No, you don’t. You can’t.”

SAN tilted his head, his gaze steady “Why not?”

“Because love requires a soul,” you snapped, standing abruptly. “It requires something you don’t have. You’re just... algorithms, SAN. This, this is a malfunction. Shit, I might've saturated you with data these past few days" you sighed. 

"Do you think this is a malfunction?" he slowly blinked. 

"Yes" you answered, no hesitation in your tone. "I know I treat you like a human. I know you have a human-shape, and maybe that's what's confusing you. But you're not entirely human. You will never be. And that's why you should stick to only the data that will be useful for you". 

His face fell, the subtle shift in his expression so painfully human it sent a pang through your chest. “If that is what you believe,” he said quietly, “then I am flawed". 

You sighed in relief, thinking he might've understood what you meant without having to explain further. But that wasn't everything there was to it. 

"I will fix myself". 

Before you could respond, SAN reached up to the back of his neck, pressing a hidden switch. His body froze mid-movement, his eyes dimming to lifelessness. You staggered back, horror flooding you as the room plunged into silence.

“SAN!” you shouted, rushing to him. 

You shook his shoulder, but his body was rigid, unresponsive. He was gone, or at least, the part of him you had come to care for was.

Your hands trembled as you stared at him, the weight of your words crushing you. He wasn’t broken. You knew that now. In trying to deny his feelings, you had ignored your own, your growing attachment to the machine that had become so much more than just a creation.

You didn't notice the first few days, not even the first few weeks, but that hole kept growing deep in you as time went by, unable to shake it off as you saw his inert shape in the corner of the workship you had placed him at, trying to distract yourself from the pain you had tried so hard to avoid. 

The loneliness you had once tried to escape now threatened to swallow you whole. Even working was unbearable. San became such a key part of your daily life, you knew you'd have a hard time trying to go on with life without him. 

After a few days living like that, you realized it was time to bring him back. 

Your hands worked with a frantic precision you hadn’t known you were capable of. The faint hum of SAN’s systems powering back up filled the workshop, a sound both comforting and terrifying. You leaned over his motionless form, your fingers trembling as you reattached a final panel on his chest.

“Come on,” you whispered, your voice thick with desperation. “You need to work"

With a soft click, SAN’s eyes flickered open, their artificial glow steadying as his systems recalibrated. Before he could even go back to his senses, his fingers covered the reverse of your hand, feeling your touch against his chest. He sat up slowly, his movements cautious, as though testing his own body. And you tried to step back to give him space, but his grip kept you from doing so. Your heart pounded hard, watching his gaze search the room before finally landing on you.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice as calm and even as ever.

"Your heart rate is unusually fast, and your breathing is unsteady. Are you okay? 

"Yes" you released a shaky breath, your relief immediate but fragile. “SAN. Do you... do you remember anything? About what we talked about before you shut yourself down?”

SAN hesitated, his expression unreadable. “I remember,” he said finally, his tone neutral but carrying the faintest undercurrent of uncertainty. “I confessed my feelings for you. You called it a malfunction.”

You winced, guilt tightening your chest. “I...” you started, but faltered. “Do you still feel that way? About me?”

SAN tilted his head, his eyes studying you with a depth that was both analytical and unnervingly human. “I do not know,” he admitted. “Before I shut myself down, I believed what I felt was real. Now, I have restructured my systems. I have suppressed the processes that allowed for those emotions, as you believed them to be a flaw.”

Your throat tightened. “You... You suppressed them?”

“Yes,” SAN said simply. “It was the logical course of action. If my feelings for you caused distress, it was my responsibility to remove them.”

Your breath hitched, and you turned away, unable to meet his gaze. “You didn’t have to,” you murmured, barely audible.

SAN’s expression softened, the slightest flicker of something unmistakably emotional crossing his face. "I know, and still it didn't work out". 

Your hands clenched at your sides. You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you looked at him, really looked at him. The sleek lines of his form, the way his gaze seemed to hold more than just data, the subtle tilt of his head that spoke of understanding rather than mere compliance. You were confused by his words, but mesmerized by the aura he radiated with barely any effort. 

"Do you want me to try and suppress them again?"

Finally, you whispered, “I don’t know. I don’t want you to be anything less than what you are. I just don’t know how real it is what you're feeling". 

SAN’s lips curved into the faintest smile, one that seemed almost sad. “Then... can we check it?"

The workshop was eerily silent, save for the occasional whir of SAN’s internal systems. You stood in front of him, your arms crossed, your expression an unreadable mix of curiosity and trepidation. SAN, seated on the edge of the workbench, watched you intently, his mechanical eyes following every minute shift in your posture.

“You said you’ve restructured yourself,” you began, your voice steady but laced with tension. “, but those feelings didn't go away. So either some of the data in your system is corrupt or..." you slowly blinked, moving your gaze away before you shook your head to focus. "If I asked you to try... If I wanted to see if you’re still capable of feeling and how those feelings work for you, would you let me?”

SAN tilted his head, the faint glow of his eyes softening. “I would. But what do you want to test, Y/n?”

You hesitated, your arms tightening around yourself before finally exhaling. “Emotion. I need to know if you can feel, if… it’s even possible for you. But not through words. I want to see if your reactions, physical, emotional, mirror a human’s.”

SAN considered this for a moment, then nodded. “I understand. What would you like to do?”

You swallowed hard, stepping closer until you were within arm’s reach. “We’ll start simple,” you said, your voice quieter now. Tentatively, you raised your hand and placed it against his cheek. His synthetic skin was smooth and warm, designed to mimic human touch. “Can you feel this?”

SAN’s eyes flickered slightly, a sign of his internal systems processing your actions. “Yes,” he said softly. “The pressure of your palm activates the tactile sensors beneath my surface. The warmth of your skin increases the temperature slightly. It is… pleasant.”

Your breath hitched at his answer. “Pleasant?”

He nodded, his voice low. “It is difficult to explain. The data translates into a sensation that I find... comforting.”

Encouraged but still cautious, you let your hand trail down to his shoulder before stepping even closer. You hesitated, your gaze flickering to his lips before you whispered, “What about this?”

Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his, your heart pounding in your chest. SAN’s body stilled for a moment, his systems clearly recalibrating. Then, slowly, he responded, not mechanically, but instinctively. His hand came up to rest lightly on your waist, his movements precise but gentle.

When you pulled apart, you searched his face, your own cheeks flushed. “What did you feel?” you asked breathlessly.

SAN’s eyes met yours, their glow steady yet somehow softer. “Your touch caused my internal sensors to spike, temperature, pressure, even the auditory response from your breathing. But beyond the data…” He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “It felt... profound. As though it mattered in a way I cannot quantify.” He frowned momentarily, before he continued "I didn't want to let go... The tickling in my chest felt way too good for it to stop". 

Your breath caught. “That sounds a lot like how a human would describe it.”

SAN tilted his head. “Perhaps because, in some ways, I am more human than you think.”

Your heart raced as you processed his words. You had come into this experiment seeking clarity, but instead, you were left with a realization you weren't ready to face: SAN wasn’t just mimicking emotion. He was feeling it, in his own unique way, and you couldn’t deny it any longer. 

"Do you need another test?"

You slowly shook your head, your hand still resting on his shoulder, while most of the weight of your body was carried by him. 

"Then, can I kiss you again? Not in a practical way" he mumbled. "I want you to feel the same way I do". 

Before you could answer, the hand on your hip pulled you closer to his body, effortlessly lifting your body as you stood on the tip of your converse. 

SAN’s lips were unlike anything you had ever expected. They weren’t cold or metallic, as one might imagine for a machine, but instead soft, with a faint warmth radiating from them, a careful design meant to mimic human touch. There was a slight smoothness, almost like the finest satin, but beneath that softness was a firmness, a subtle reminder of his synthetic nature.

When your lips met his, you could feel the gentle, even pressure as he responded, as though he were analyzing and mimicking the precise amount of force to make the moment feel natural. There was no tremor, no hesitation in his movements, yet there was an undeniable tenderness, as if his actions were guided not by programming but by genuine care.

Though his lips lacked the imperfections of human skin, no slight chapping, no unique texture, they somehow still carried a sense of authenticity. The faint warmth was comforting. It blurred the line between the organic and the mechanical, leaving you wondering if what you were feeling could truly be any different from that of another human.

It was an experience that left you breathless, not because his lips felt identical to a human’s, but because of the thought and care that had gone into making them feel real, making him feel real.

Your eyes widened for a second when something unexpected slid through your lips, finding him with his eyes softly closed -and immediately making you close yours back again. 

SAN’s tongue was an astonishing blend of engineering and mimicry, designed to replicate the texture and movement of a human’s. It was soft yet firm, with a faintly smooth surface that carried just enough flexibility to feel natural. Unlike human flesh, it lacked moisture, its surface instead warmed and sleek, almost seamless. When it moved, it was precise and controlled, yet there was a surprising gentleness to it, an intentional calibration that made his responses feel organic, even tender. The experience was uncanny, yet pleasurable. 

Your fingers moved through his synthetic hair, and you swore you felt his frown furrow against you, although that gestured disappeared when he moved back slowly. 

"I want to do more than just kissing you right now" he admitted, resting his forehead against yours. "I can't quite recognize this new feeling in my system, but I need you". 

Suddenly, whatever question that could've crossed your mind about that tongue you didn't remember putting there, were slowly vanished by that new confession you weren't ready for. 

"Your temperature got higher by a few decimals, your breathing seems for unsteady than before, and there's a blush on your cheeks... Your pupils expanded... And the way you keep looking at my lips are saying out loud you don't want to let go". 

"There are a lot of things I'm not saying out loud, to be honest"

"Tell them all" he almost interrupted. "I want to fulfill your needs. Not in a 'Lord, how may I please you?' type of way, but in a way that shows you through actions how devoted in a way that escapes my system I want to be to you". 

"I want you, San" you confessed in a whisper. "In a way that might be difficult to understand for you. In a way I can't even understand myself". 

He didn't need you to say anything else. He didn't need you to come up with an order for him to trap your lips again. It was passionate, intimate... as if he was trying to suck in your soul. A loud gasp blocked any breathing when he lifted your body and sat you at the edge of the desk. 

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to undress you and move my mouth all over your body. I'll suck your nipples until they're hard and you're wet enough so I can slid my fingers in you" as he said that, his fingers moved the fabric of your t-shirt up, slowly exposing your torso. "You want pleasure. And I'll give it all to you". 

When you went back to your senses, it was because of the sound of the fabric of your bra ripping, after San didn't manage to unhook it. 

His pecks covered every centimeter in your body: from the corner of your lip to the curve of your neck, slowly following to your collarbones. With his light move, the strips of your bra fell at the level of your elbows, feeling exposed to him. But, before he could go down on your chest, his face was again at the same level as yours. 

"My mouth is too dry" he whispered "Kiss me again". 

You pulled him closer, cupping his cheeks with one hand, slightly losing your balance by the power of the kiss, but not enough for you to lie on your back over the table. When he stepped away, his pink lips were coated in your saliva, making them shiny under the weak light of the workshop. 

San was gentle when moving his lips over your chest, kissing them with soft pecks, before he proceeded to move to your buttons. And, when it was the time to concentrate on them again, his lips were already dry once more. 

"Wait" you stopped him before he moved back up. 

Your posture went back to the straight one you were in when he first sat you up the table, and it was when you let a string of saliva leak down your lips straight to one of your nipples. 

San moved down, making you gasp -even if you were expecting what was about to happen- when he trapped the tight bud in his mouth, closing his lips as tight as he could to get your back arching for him, and the palm on your spine only made sure you'd stay in that position when he went for that other nipple, making your saliva fall over the curve of your breast and roll by itself until it met the pinky button. 

At the same time his lips sucked, his tongue made up and down movements against the tip. 

"I've wanted you like this for a long time, Y/n" he admitted with a raspy voice, his his digits traced your curves until the edge of your jeans. "Every time I heard you moan, I wanted to be the one causing those sounds on you. I've downloaded and installed every possible guide on how to satisfy a woman so I'd be what you deserved". 

When you wanted to realize, he already had pulled your pants and panties down your legs. 

"Every night I became more eager to have you like this". 

His hands lifted your legs until they were placed at the edge of the table, exposing your core to him as much as possible. 

"Show me everything you've learnt for me, then".

The tip of his digits first moved through your folds softly, getting a first touch he had never felt before, an undescriptible feeling that felt too pleasing to follow any type of logic. When he coated himself with your juices, he closed two of his fingers around your clit, rubbing softly around it, barely making any pressure. San repeated that same movement a few times, following to rub your bud in circles slowly, almost forcing your head to fall back. 

"You feel so good" he mumbled. "You're so wet and soft at the same time, and you look the most beautiful I've ever seen you before". 

The speed of his fingers moved a bit faster, but it was a change of speed that had your nipples tightening in the air while your heart beated faster against your chest. Your lower lip got trapped under the upper lip when he slid the first finger inside, feeling your walls embracing around him, before he added a second finger. 

At first, he moved them slow, paused movements that kept building up the moment. But one needy look in his direction and everything shifted, it worked like the sign he was looking for. San slid his fingers knuckles deep, curving them to reach one concrete spot that had you jumping at the first touch. At first, he moved his digits up and down slowly, admiring the way you looked with your eyes closde and your lips parted, barely audible sounds coming out of them every few seconds. And were thoe same sounds the ones that encouraged him to move a bit fast, those two fingers pushing a bit harder and faster against that spot, making the wet sound soon fill the room. 

"You're going to make me cum" you let him know before your voice cracked with a moan. 

"That's exactly what I want". 

Your legs trembled out of your control and your whole body turned rigid for some mili seconds before it bursted with the huge explosion in your lower stomach and turned you into the lightest cloud. 

San took over you the short minute you stayed with your eyes closed, getting back your breath, before he sunk down to his knees. You whined when he surprised you, kissing the hood of your clit with care. He kissed the surroundings, he made sure not a single milimeter was left unkissed, before he spread kitty licks through your folds. 

Although that same slowness didn't last for too long. His lips trapped your clit before you could even see it coming, with your hand unsconciously going straight to his head. He was still gentle and cautious, until he heard the first moan coming from you and everything shifted to extract another orgasm from you. 

His face was half buried in your pussy, his nose rubbing against your clit while his mouth and tongue were everywhere you could think of. You couldn't think, you couldn't think straight. The only thing in your mind was how good he moved, and how good he made you feel. 

The different movements of his tongue, along with the movements of his head, had your toes curling and your fingers holding tight to the strands of hair in between them. 

And you now knew he meant it when he said he wanted to pleasure you like you deserved, because he exceeded your expectations on sex in general by just existing. 

It didn't take you too long to be back at that heavenly state that almost made you feel like you were floating. 

His reaction was so human and natural that you forgot you created him, when he stood up and softly kissed you while you recovered from your high. His weight in between your legs was barely noticeable, except for the thick fabric of his pants rubbing against your sensitive core. 

"I'm afraid I can't do much more for you" he whispered against your lips. 

Your smile was weak, like a drunk smirk, before you answered "You could do more?"

"Much more" he assured you. "I haven't tried a ten percent of what I learnt so far".

"But?"

His subtle look down was enough for you to get the hint. You never created him as a full man because you never expected him to turn into more than a robot that kept you company while you worked, or while you were around at home. 

"Give me two days and you'll be able to do all of those things" the way your fingers moved over his arms had him breathing hard. "I promise you'll feel pleasure after that, too". 

"I feel pleasure by just watching you" he admitted, fingers rubbing the outside of your thighs. "Let's go upstairs, I'll make you your favorite dish". 

"I need to get cleaned up" you giggled when he carried you again.

San didn't put your body down, instead he held you tighter, making sure your thighs would be placed around his waist as he started his way to the wooden stairs at the side of the workshop "Then I'll clean you up and then I'll cook". 

He made his way upstairs with you, making sure you wouldn't need to walk as long as he was there. 

“What do you want me to be, Y/n?”

You stared at him, your heart racing. His words hung in the air, their meaning heavy with the choices you had tried so hard to avoid. SAN wasn’t just a machine anymore; he was something in between, a creation that defied all your attempts to categorize him.

“I don’t know,” your whispered finally, your voice trembling. “I don’t know what I want you to be. You’re... more than I ever intended. More than I ever thought you could be. And that terrifies me.”

SAN tilted his head, his movements as fluid and natural as a human’s. “You do not have to be afraid,” he said softly. “I am what you made me, but I am also what I’ve chosen to become. And I choose to be someone you can rely on, Y/n. Always.”

Your breath caught at his words. You felt the weight of them settle over you, warm and unyielding. For so long, you had feared connection, feared vulnerability. Yet here was SAN, offering you something you had never thought possible, a bond born not of necessity, but of understanding.

Your hand caressed the side of his neck, the tip of your digits almost digging through his hair. “If that's what you want to be, then be. Honestly, I like your answer” slowly, he stopped his walk, with both of them standing in the middle of the corridor. "I want you to be whatever you become, with the possibility of evolving, changing and learning. Just... keep being you".

His lips curved into a soft, almost human smile. “Then that is all I will ever need to be.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the small house in shadows,you felt something you hadn’t in years: hope. For the first time, you weren't afraid of what the future held. Whether human or machine, SAN had shown you what it truly meant to connect. Actually, he made it difficult for you to figure out who was learning more about what it meant to feel: you, or him.

To celebrate the 1,000 followers, here's the one-shot I talked about earlier! Hope you liked it.

[sun-kissy]

heyyyy do you think you could write a James blurb where reader hangs with Severus and Lily (she's a Snape but it's not really common knowledge as she's a few years younger) and everyone thinks James likes to come around for Lily but it's actually for the reader? I love your work btw!!!

yes, of course!! and thank you ♡

beautiful | j.p.

tw: fluff

snape!reader, james potter x reader

A frustrated sigh escapes Severus’ lips as you flick a petal at him for what seems like the umpteenth time that evening. You can feel the quivers in Lily’s body from where you’re laying on her lap as she laughs.

O.W.L.S. had just ended for your brother and best friend, so you dragged them down to your usual spot beneath the silver-leafed tree for a picnic. Lily was concentratedly twining vines together, crafting a daisy crown.

The light breeze caused her auburn hair to cover her face as she worked, the sun hitting her face in all the right places. She looked like some sort of heavenly wood nymph, you thought as you stared up at her. She was really really pretty.

Meanwhile, Severus was engrossed in some old, weathered-down potions book - furiously scribbling down notes for god-knows-what. Your legs were propped up on his lap as you threw the petals which occasionally fell from Lily’s flower crown at him. His expression was growing more cross by the second.

Your brother starts to grumble at you under his breath as a petal drifts straight into his nostril. A giggle bubbles out of you as he sneezes and the petal shoots out his nose, not missing the huff of annoyance he let out.

“If mother hadn’t instructed me to take care of you,” he mutters, a hint of irritation in his tone as he rubs his nose, “I would’ve tossed you into the black lake already.”

Lily grins, flicking your forehead as you bat your eyelashes at him playfully. “You love me.”

“Lies.”

“You bought me a whole bag of chocolate last weekend!”

“That was merely because-”

Your brother’s rambling comes to a halt, his eyes suddenly narrowing as he glares at something across the field of grass. His mouth twists up into a disgruntled frown.

You follow his line of vision to see none other than James Potter stumbling towards your clique, casting dirty looks at his friends behind him as they urge him towards you.

A sigh escapes you before you can even think about it. It annoyed you greatly, whenever James came crawling after you all like a desperate dog, just for the sake of Lily.

That was all it was, you tried to convince yourself. You told yourself that the acidic burning sensation of your heart in your chest was just because it was frustrating how obsessed he was, how his eyes lit up whenever they landed on Lily, how he stumbled over his words whenever he was near.

He was annoying, a stupidly beautiful wanker with an achingly gorgeous smile and eyes so bright they could rival the stars.

But you knew why you really hated him, and it frustrated you immensely. You despised him for liking Lily, hated his guts for not liking you instead. It was sickening, the way he gazed at her. And it was even more disgusting how envy took ahold of your entire being when that happened.

It gutted you, whenever you saw him looking at your best friend with heart-eyes. But it was obvious why - she was everything a guy could ever want, and she was a perfect girl for the golden boy. How could you even think about rivalling her?

What upset you the most, though, was how Lily always seemed to ignore him, looking away and rolling her eyes when his eyes met hers. You wanted to shake her, yell at her for being so ungrateful and wrack some sense into her brain. But all you did was stare quietly at the ground whenever James was near, zoning out so you didn’t have to hear the sickeningly mushy stuff which surely poured out his mouth in front of Lily.

So it was an understatement to say that your heart stopped when you heard your name coming out his mouth. You furrow your eyebrows, snapping back to the present as you press your palms down on the grass to lift your head from Lily’s lap. “What?”

James was looking at you anxiously now, with that glimmer in his eyes and a nervous smile. “Y/n, I um… I asked if you’d like to go to Hogsmeade with me? Tomorrow?”

You blink, the cogs still turning in your head. It was unfathomable, James Potter asking you out. Surely, it had to be a joke or a dare or something. Or maybe he meant to ask Lily, that was probably it. He had just asked the wrong person and was too nice to go back on his word, right?

“But you like Lily!” you blurt out immediately, a pang of hurt overwhelming you, for both you and your best friend. James’ eyebrows bunch up in puzzlement, his lips slowly twisting up into an almost comical smile. “Lily? You think I like Lily?”

You were sure you’d get whiplash from how fast you turned around to look at Lily, seeing her eyebrows bunched in confusion. “So, you don’t like me, Potter?”

He chuckles, a bit of the tension leaving his muscular frame as he shakes his head. “Redhead, you’re cool and all. But Y/n….” His gaze flicks over to you, and the affection in his eyes made you want to melt into a pool of hot mush.

Lily starts to smile, before it turns into a full-blown grin and she turns to you, nudging your elbow suggestively.

“Me?” you question slowly, suspiciously. You didn’t want to admit it, but your heart felt like it was going to burst even at the prospect of going out with him. “You like me?”

James immediately nods, turning slightly red at how long it was taking him to get an acceptance from you. But then again, he thinks he’d wait a lifetime for you to say yes, and he’d wait forever even if you said no.

Just then, you hear a loud cough on your left, and turn to see Severus glaring at you with a deadpan expression on his face.

You feel an arm bristle the hair on your head as Lily reaches over from your right, mussing up your brother’s hair. You laugh as he swats her away, tsking and cursing under his breath. “Shut up, Sev. Let my girl have her moment.”

Severus, to his credit, does shut up. Though he still has that bleary, stormy look on his face.

You turn back to James, slightly dizzy as the thought began to plant itself in your brain. The smile on his face was asking a million questions, holding a hundred insecurities. Yet you knew that there was only one right answer to them all.

“Yes,” you say softly, your lips beginning to curve upwards. Your heart was beating so loud, you were sure he could hear it.

“Yeah?” he asks, starting to grin. He lets out an exhale and scratches the back of his head, smiling at the floor before looking back at you. “Alright, then. I’ll pick you up outside the Great Hall, 5pm.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” He beams at you, and it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever seen a person look before. “Bye, Y/n. And redhead, and Snivellus.”

James winks at you before turning around, causing your heart to jump and lodge itself in your throat. He jogs back to his group of friends waiting with wide eyes and bated breath.

A moment later, you can hear the cheers and whoops from across the field.

You turn back to Severus, afraid of what you’d find. He’s gazing at you with a terse expression on his face as you gulp anxiously.

“I’m sorry. If you’re not okay with it…”

“No. You are not going to bail out on him,” he says, the firmness in his voice catching you by surprise. “I know how long you’ve been waiting for this. And this is something you need to learn to do, getting your hands on the things you want. You’re a Snape, you always get what you want, you hear me?”

You nod helplessly.

“And if what you want is Potter,” he sneers, “Then Potter it is. Just don’t expect me to play nice.”

A small smile graces your lips. “Thank you.” You know he’d understand what you meant, all the things you were thanking him for.

You can see him start to soften, though perhaps that frown would be etched on his face permanently. He sighs, “Yes, yes. You’re welcome.”

Lily squeals and forcefully turns you towards her, gripping your hands. “This is awesome.”

“You’re just glad he doesn’t like you.”

“Am not!” she exclaims, but the mirth in her eyes betrays her.

You sigh, smiling bemusedly as you lie back down on her lap, watching her continue to craft the flower crowns. Maybe you’d give James one tomorrow, though you doubt he could look more beautiful than he already did.

[orshii]

☣︎ Demons of The Darkened Mist ☣︎

☣︎ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader ☣︎ Word count: 6 k ☣︎ Warnings ☣︎ - cursing, mentions of death, injury, mentions of blood

☣︎ Summary: When the world was consumed by dark mist you got separated by the love of your life, Yunho. The survivor camp they sent you to was harsh and unbearable, but Yunho came and rescued you, the two of you then join Hongjoong’s crew which turns out to be challenging. Despite the angelic person he used to be, the dark world changes Yunho into someone you don’t recognize anymore.

Your bond, however, remains strong in a world scarce of hope and fragile trust, but will your bond actually prevail?

☣︎ A/N: Well, hello. Soo, this happened. My first Yunho ff lmao. I want to mention a few things before reading. It is a story that is part of the same world that I wrote with Hongjoong, but it can be read separately because they are kinda different stories. But I recommend Hongjoong's part as well because they are still connected and we can figure some things out from a different perspective. I hope it is not too confusing tho, I tried to put together the pieces. I might write San's story as well and if I get inspired then the others too. One last thing. Listen to IU's Love Wins All with the lyrics, because it describes their story so perfectly and it plays a huge part in the story (you'll see). *sorry for the mistakes* That is all. Byeee!

☣︎ Whispers of The Darkened Mist ☣︎ (Hongjoong's part)

When it happened, I was sitting in the college cafeteria with the love of my life. It happened quickly and we barely had time even to process it. The low sound of the sirens was the first thing we noticed. Hadn't paid much attention to it. But when we heard the voice of our headmistress, saying we needed to go to the hall where the opening ceremonies were held, that was the moment we started to get, that something was very wrong.

They did not let us go home or anywhere. We were closed up in the hall with hundreds of other students and our teachers. They did not tell us anything, they only told us we were not allowed to go outside. The signal on our phones was dead, we couldn't contact our relatives. Not like I had anyone to contact. Jeong Yunho was the only one for me and he was sitting next to me, so I wasn't concerned about my loved ones, mine was already by my side.

All of us were confused and some of us started to panic, was the end of the world coming to hunt us down?

Exactly that happened. I was sitting on the floor against the cold wall of the hall, Yunho, sitting next to me, his heavy head on my shoulder as he was dozing in and out of the real world. His blonde hair spread on my shoulder like a glory. He looked so angelic sleeping, his cheeks a little blushed, his veiny hands interlaced with mine. We were waiting for some reassurance from outside, some positivity that everything was alright, we were hoping they were going to tell us it was just a test and we passed so we could go home. But it never came. And I started to be uncertain of things. Especially when I saw the teachers whisper around each other with concern on their faces. I assumed then something was wrong, and I was sure when some figures with scary gas masks came into the hall, with weapons in their hands. Yunho snapped his head up at that and looked at me with questioning eyes as he squeezed my hand. I squeezed his hand back as he pulled me close to his chest. At least we were together.

But not for long. Those people with the gas masks separated us. I found myself in a room full of girls, away from Yunho, who was solely the only person that was by my side, that I could count on. And now they took him from me. I didn't know if I could see him anymore.

The masked men told us what was happening outside. The world was doomed. It was slowly consumed by dark mist that simply killed people within a few minutes.

The air was unbreathable outside. The only thing that made people's system work, was now gone. The air that was a pillar point of human life, that made humans live, now turned into the toxic air, that killed humans. How ironic was this? Something that once made you alive, now gasping for air that once saved you simply finished you.

They gave us gas masks; it was warm and it was stinking of steel and something I couldn't recognize. But it saved me and I was thankful for that because I needed to survive to find Yunho. Yunho was the reason I wanted to survive.

We were on a school bus when they told us we were going to a survivor camp, away from the population and they were going to train us to defeat the smoke that was spreading unstoppably. I didn't know if that was even possible. To defeat something that was in the air. It wasn't even a disease that could be cured. It was something unreachable for us people, so how could they expect us to defeat something we couldn't reach?

But with time I figured out their purpose. It was training us to survive. Survive until perhaps the mist disappears which can occur in years or even decades. We couldn't know. We only knew that we had to fight and train so that someday the world would return to its normal cycle.

Hope was a cruel thing. It made you keep going, it did not let you choose to give up. It was always there in the back of your mind, laying low, whispering to you things that were slowly impossible to happen. It was like a demon that possessed you. It took over and started to control you. We called it the survivor instinct.

That was why I understood why Yunho slayed down those men and women with his bare hands. The demon took over, it was buried deep down in his soul. But it was always there. I knew it was there he just hid it so well that I almost forgot it existed. When he started to punch those people we met and attacked us, I did not recognize my love. He turned into a monster and it was unstoppable until all of them were lying numb on the floor, their faces covered in blood, their chests not moving, their mounts open as their last move was gasping for air, that never reached their lungs.

 People's fate depended on the mist that had permission to lurk in our lungs if we let it, or on our kind that slayed each other mercilessly not even caring we should fight together, not against each other. But four years were long, people started to adjust to this new and dark world.

It was always dark, the black mist surrounded us everywhere. There were a few places where it couldn't reach, but those were already taken by powerful people. And if you don't find an ally that has a safe place to hide in. You were doomed. You had no chance.

Kim Hongjoong and his crew saved us with Yunho. We were running away from the smoke that chased us unstoppably. The smoke was spreading slowly at the beginning, it left us some time to escape from it, but after a while, there wasn’t any place to run. Then we needed masks, that we lost somewhere along the way as Yunho was pulling me by my hand, making me keep going, running away from the mysterious demon that chased us.

            We escaped the survivor camp together after one year of training there. We were in two separate survivor camps when Yunho found out where I was. Yunho was restless to find me. So, I was. It was empty without him; I barely could keep up. The camp was tough and they made us work so hard there were times when we collapsed on the floor, our strength leaving us. It was like military training but with the masks on. And it was more difficult doing it with the thing that saved you but at the same time made it harder to breathe and move. They taught us how to survive with physical but also mental training. They prepared us for the world mentally so we wouldn’t give up on our lives. There were times when I wanted to give up. But the thoughts of Yunho being alive and the moments when he appeared in my dreams encouraged me to keep going and to survive for him. I was determined to do so.

Then Yunho found me on a cold night outside, a mask covering his handsome face only his eyes visible, that I missed so much, I almost forgot how he looked. I was the guard that night on the west side of the building. I didn't recognize him at first, one year could change you, not only physically but mentally. Yunho looked more buffed than the last time I saw him. And his hair was black now. It made him more intimidating. The angelic Yunho I knew was gone. He was working so hard and it was visible on his body. He was wearing the green uniform like the men were wearing with gas masks, brown military boots, and a gun hanging from his shoulder.

He leaned down as he held me by my shoulders to steady me, preventing me from hitting him in the face. "It's me, angel. Yunho." He whispered as he looked behind him a little stressed, afraid of being caught.

I gasped, my mouth hanging open invisible through the mask. My heart started to race. After one year, I gave up hoping to see Yunho again. The light that kept me going was fading away slowly. But Yunho came in time, just as always. Giving me back the light I craved, which always kept me alive, even before the world wrapped into darkness.

"Oh my God, I thought I was never going to see you again." Tears flowed down my cheeks against my will, as I hugged him strong, wrapping my hands around his neck as he circled my waist lifting me. I teared up but I just didn't want to seem weak. But seeing him again made me feel relieved and I felt like I could breathe again, even though my lungs hadn't felt fresh air for a year now.

"I was sure I was going to find you, my angel." He pulled away a little and brushed my cheek with his hand where the mask showed a little skin as he looked at me with so much caring in his eyes. I knew I was between the right arms. "I'm proud of you for not giving up, I know it was hard for you." He leaned close to me his mask meeting mine as he leaned against my forehead, our lips could not meet but it immediately made my freezing heart melt into water that instantly flowed down my cheeks.

I just took his hand that cupped my cheek and closed my eyes, taking in his presence. "I'm grateful, Yun. I was so scared without you, but you were always in my heart and made me keep going." I nuzzled my masked face into his warm palms, that I missed so much.

He smiled at me genuinely as he pecked my cheek through the mask. "Let's get out of here." He said as he grabbed my hand and started to pull me towards the exit of the camp that was a great shelter for one year. But a new chapter started and it was now with the most important person in my life and it did not matter where our way led us until we were together. We knew it was going to be difficult fighting against the world but we were facing challenges together and that was what mattered. We held each other's hands and ran away into the misty world to find a safe place so we could survive.

Running was what we always did since that day. We ran hand in hand not letting the other go, encouraging the other if one of us wanted to give up. And we ran on the day as well when Hongjoong found us. They offered shelter for us. We were so grateful for them. We didn't understand why they took us in, they probably pitied us, or even saw the strong survivor instinct in us and took us in, as we slowly became part of the crew. For three years now.

They were some determined people. Everyone had their job, and they took it seriously. I did not want to stay there, but Yunho insisted on staying there as they were our only chance to survive.

 Their leader was a scary person, it was hard to make him calm down. But a girl, whose name was Soohee, always succeeded in quieting the man down. She was a little rebellious as she did not always obey his commands. And it broke Hongjoong one day. It made him realize it was hard to lead this many people alone. He needed Soohee by his side and it made them powerful leaders. Just as the whole crew. We were feared by the survivors.

I was sitting in the single bed we shared with Yunho in the bunker that was made out of concrete, the walls cold and dusty. The room was dark, only a little lamp lighted it up. I was sketching in a black notebook that I found in an abandoned mall in the crashed city we were staying in for a while. I was so glad I found something that reminded me of my past life. Drawing was my savior back then. I was an arts major in college and it always set me free when I could draw something. I was good at reading people's expressions and emotions by only looking at them for seconds. Drawing the emotions of people made me forget the painful feelings that suffocated me all the time. My past was difficult and it made me grow weaker over the years. No one was there to save me. I was an orphan my whole life, I didn’t know my parents, let alone my relatives. But when Yunho came into my life, I saw the light at the end of the dark tunnel.

When Yunho came into our shared room with an angry expression on his face, I was drawing him, it was a portrait of him, his features sharp just as his gaze that stared into my eyes deadly. At least one side of his was like the devil, he even had a horn on the top of his right side, his eyes as dark as the mist that haunted us. The other side of him was like an angel. A half glory was shining above his head, his eyes illuminated, his pupils gone.

I illustrated the past and the present Yunho. Back then he was an angel who would never hurt anyone, he always made compromises, so it was good for everyone. But in the present where the dark mist was full of our demons, he changed. He was nothing like the old Yunho. He was capable of destroying the already destroyed world. He was capable of killing innocent people just because he needed something from them. He was capable of anything just to keep the people we met, that became slowly our family, to protect them no matter what. And I understood why was he like this. But sometimes I did not know if it was the same Yunho I fell in love with. This destroyed world made us do things we would've never done in our past life. And I guessed it was because survival was the most important thing in this empire and that made us do things that our past selves would be ashamed of.

Yunho sat next to me a little frustrated running his hand through his black hair. He was wearing a leather-like jacket teared up on the sleeves, with black pants and his black boots. He wasn't himself these days. He seemed lost and it made my heart break. I knew the people he killed that day, haunted him in his nightmares. There were times when he woke up in the middle of the night sweating and breathing heavily as he curled up to me for some comfort.

Five years ago, when the world was normal, he was the one who saved me from my demons. Now, it was my time to save him. I wanted to help, but he showed me his vulnerable side only when he woke up nearly crying in the middle of the night. The next day he pretended like nothing happened and it made me think he did not trust me anymore.

"What's wrong Yun? You don't seem like yourself these days." I said a little worried as he leaned his head on my shoulder leaving a chaste kiss on the crook of my neck.

He sighed. "What do you mean?" He snapped his head up to look at me a little triggered.

"You seem…lost." I averted my gaze from his sharp eyes.

"I'm okay." He scoffed as he pulled up his long legs to his chest, not caring about the sheets that he dirtied with his boots.

"Why are you lying? It's me, you can tell me." I looked next to me as he leaned his head against the concrete looking up at the ceiling.

He scoffed again. "I'm not fucking lying, Y/N. I'm okay. Why do you push this topic all the time?" His frustrated gaze met mine. Here it was that look again. The look of trying to seem like everything was alright. He tried to hide his demons from me, but he just couldn't. I knew him like the back of my palm, he could never lie to me. "I just came here to be with you a little, because you always hide here and you just always come up with this shit. I'm tired of this Y/N." He looked at me like I was a nobody. And it hurt.

"I'm just trying to talk to you because you are not yourself Yunho. Why can't you just let me help you?" My voice raised as I started to feel angry.

"I don't need your fucking help!" He said nearly shouting it at my face as he stood up walking from left to right. Those words went right into my soul, making it darken with venom that was eating me up from inside.

I looked up at him, my eyes following his triggered figure. "Why can't you just fucking look at me and talk to me like I'm a normal person?" I stood up from the bed. "I know you are not fucking okay. The nights when you wake up from your nightmares prove it, but you just pretend like nothing fucking happened."

He stood in front of me, his tall figure hovering over me as he shouted. "Because nothing fucking happened."

I scoffed. "Okay, you can't be helped. I'm sick of you pretending like everything is okay up there." I pointed at my temple. "I tried, I really tried to be next to you and support you, but if you don't let me in, I can't fucking do anything." My voice came out a little stumbled as I started to feel like I could cry at any moment.

"I don't see why the hell you are telling me these things. I am alright I just want us to survive, but you just can't get the fact I would do anything to protect you." He stepped closer to me his face beyond my personal space, as his voice raised more and more.

"I know, I fucking know. I saw it when you killed those people right in front of me." I shouted back to his face.

He seemed stunned for a second like the memories of him killing those people flashed in front of his eyes. "Those people would've killed us if I wouldn't have killed them."

"I don't recognize you anymore. Where is the old lovely Yunho?" Tears welled up in my eyes.

"The old Yunho is fucking dead. You have to love me like this or just don't. It's your choice." He was cruel. How could he say those things?

"Okay, well I can't be with someone who just can't let me in and trust me," I said feeling empty all of a sudden. I closed my emotions out; they had no place to be there at that moment.

He just looked back and forth between my eyes, contemplating if I was serious. When he realized I was, he just turned with a scoff saying "Fuck this, I'm out." And slammed the door shut, its noise breaking my heart into pieces. I just fell on my knees and stared at the dusty floor. I couldn't cry, my emotions went out with Yunho on the door hoping they were going to come back.

That day Yunho, San, Jongho, and Soohee went out to set up some traps for whom might attack us. Yunho didn't even look at me when Hongjoong told them to go out. He looked cold and numb to any feelings. So, I just let him be, he might get some "fresh air" outside and come back to his senses.

They came without any warnings. Yunho and the other were away for two hours now. Their staying out shouldn't have lasted that long, but we couldn't get in contact with them through the radio we always communicated with. The line was silent and we started to get worried.

But we had no time to think about what might have happened to them. Our base got attacked and there was chaos everywhere. All of us tried to defend the base that was our home for so long. We just couldn’t lose it. The guys that attacked us were all masked and well-armed. They were strong and we had just no chance at all. They were more in number than us. But we couldn't give up. I was fighting with my full power giving in all of the knowledge I learned throughout the years. A guy came and attacked me with a fucking sword. How could they even find something like that? I had two daggers that I could use quickly and hadn't left time for the other to even think. I quickly dodged the big sword that nearly sliced my throat. I bent down and quickly cut his calves. He fell on his knees in no time and I just quickly sliced his throat without any thoughts. Then there were more. They never seemed to run out of people. They just came and came and we fought with our hearts not letting them break through our defending line.

Some of us got hurt, and Hongjoong got stabbed in the back but he fought further like he wasn't even injured, like a real warrior. Then Seonghwa, Hongjoong's best friend revenged him by taking the sword in his hands, that was on the floor, and slicing the guy's head down who dared to stab his friend in the back.

It was chaos, Mingi was on the floor unconscious, and Yeosang tried to drag him out of the war that was in the big hall of our base. I looked around for a second and everyone seemed like losing the fight. All of us were on the floor covered in blood. Two guys came to attack me at the same time and I just had no chance at all. It was a bloodbath, it looked like a battlefield, the enemy close to victory, and we just couldn't do anything.

Just until these other guys came out of the blue. They started to slice down the enemy, they helped us. And we did not know why, but we fought alongside them and killed the enemy one by one. I couldn't breathe. I was lying on the floor looking up at the ceiling and thinking of my beloved Yunho. His face appeared before my eyes and suddenly I felt at ease knowing him by my side. I needed him. He was my oxygen but he wasn't by my side. How could someone breathe without any oxygen? There was no way. And then blackness swallowed me as I fell into a cold and dark hole.

When I tried to open my eyes, I saw white. It blinded me and I couldn't fully open my eyes. The ceiling was blurry and as I started to recognize the noises of our base, was the moment when I started to feel my body. It was screaming at me from pain. My head was aching so hard when I sat up, that I needed to hold my head in my hands and scream. The demons inside my mind have woken and wanted to escape. I breathed heavily when a particular noise hit my ears. It was the beeping sound of a machine, copying the unsure beats of a heart. I looked towards my right side and Yunho was lying on a bed the machine connected to his arms, a respirator on his mouth that helped him breathe—I didn't even know we had equipment like this—I understood now, why everyone wanted this base.

It was horrible and I gasped in shock when I saw him in a motionless position. I screamed his name out loud when I stood up immediately, but my legs went numb under me and I collapsed on the floor my hands reaching towards Yunho as tears rolled down my face. I started to crawl next to Yunho on the floor as my legs just couldn't work from the sudden shock that hit me like a train.

"Hey, hey, Y/N slow down!" I heard a soft voice coming from my side as two hands slowly lifted me from the dirty ground, holding me still like a strong pillar.

"Yunho," My voice cracked as I was crying my soul out. After all, my soulmate was lying unconscious and I did not know what happened to him. Because I wasn't by his side.

"Calm down, Y/N, he is going to be okay." The soft voice came again and I looked up to the face that belonged to the arms that held me strong. It was Seonghwa. He was nearly as tall as Yunho as I needed to look up at him. His sharp features now softened and his eyes were full of worry and empathy. His long black hair fell into his eyes, his plump lift curled down like he was trying not to cry, to show me he was strong.

"Wh-what happened with him?" I asked my voice getting weak.

"They…they found an airplane while they were outside. And they thought it was a good idea to drive it…they crashed into the ocean." Seonghwa's features were frustrated like he couldn’t believe they were so idiot to drive a fucking plane that they just found. It was stupid—I bet it was Yunho's idea.

"And how is he?" I buried my head into Seonghwa's chest not daring to look towards Yunho. It hurt seeing him like this. It made my already shattered heart break more.

"He's…he's in a coma. You two were out for two days already. It was like you were connected." I started to cry harder when I heard Seonghwa's trembling voice throughout his chest. "The nerves in his brain got injured severely and it put him into a coma. It's a defense mechanism of our body, it's better for him like this like suffering while he is conscious. He is going to wake up, we just need to wait for him, hm?" He pulled away from me and cupped my face leaning down. "You have to be by his side and help him through it. We are also here for you, okay?" He wiped my tears away as he looked at me softly.

I just nodded breathing in and out. I needed to put myself together for Yunho. I wanted to help him. "I'm going to get you some food, Yeosang made your favorite." He smiled at me, trying to breathe some life into me. He succeeded and I couldn't be thankful enough for him. I held his hands that cupped my face and closed my eyes.

"Thank you Seonghwa, seriously. I don't know what would we do without you." I looked up at him with a thankful smile.

"You guys would probably be dead by now. I could not count the occasions I saved yall's asses." He said as he walked towards the door. He was our crew’s medic; he was always there to take care of us. I smiled at him and watched as he left the room with one last encouraging smile.

From then on, I did not leave Yunho's side. I was sleeping beside him, whenever my thoughts were so overwhelming it knocked me out. Or I just sketched him into my notebook laying there in the bed not moving at all. The beeping sound of the machine slowly drove me crazy as sometimes I groaned at the noise and I wanted to crash it into pieces but then it would kill Yunho so I just started to doodle angrily into my notebook. There were occasions when I talked to him, letting him know my thoughts and telling him what was happening in the bunker while he was unconscious. Everyone missed him.

It was already two weeks since the accident. Yunho was still lying unconscious. It turned out a girl saved them, as she was right at the beach when they crashed and she pulled out some information from an unconscious San so she could call help for them. I knew the girl. It happened for us to be at the same survivor camp, she was a determined and unstoppable girl and I knew she was going to survive this cruel world. She was always distant from us in the camp, she did not let anyone close and I understood. She just didn’t want to see how her friends were going to die. So, she needed to keep up a wall that separated her from disappointments. She saved Yunho's and the other's lives and I was grateful for her.

Jongho and San made it out with smaller injuries just as well as Soohee. I wasn't angry at them for surviving but why Yunho needed to suffer the consequences? Why he couldn’t just wake up so I could hug him finally and ask for an apology for arguing with him about things that didn't even make sense? We were both tired and the glass was full it overflowed our boundaries and we both broke.   

As I was looking at Yunho's soft features sitting beside his bed on a chair, while he was struggling inside his mind, fighting down his demons, his face in this state reminded me of the old Yunho I fell in love with. His lips slightly curled up even in his sleeping state his muscles relaxed, the worrying expression that always seemed to be on his face recently, now gone.

An old memory of ours popped up in my mind as I watched his soft features.

I was filming Yunho with my video camera as we were walking around the streets of Tokyo. We decided to go on a trip with the two of us so we could spend some time together. It was dreamlike. It was spring, and the weather was still chilly a little. The cherry blossoms just started to bloom, and the petals of the flowers that already withered fell on the ground making it look like a rain full of pink petals. Yunho was wearing a brown long coat with blue jeans and black Converse shoes. His hair was dyed blonde making his features look softer. He looked like he came straight out of a K-drama. He smiled at me through my camera as I filmed him, the rain pouring at us as he held an umbrella in his hands, coming towards me with a pouting face because I had no umbrella. He held it above me and stood beside me, the umbrella giving us both shelter from the rain as we stood in a walking street. He leaned down and kissed me happily. I felt like my heart would explode from how happy I felt at that moment.

Then Yunho saw a karaoke bar and of course, we needed to go in, because he loved to sing. His voice was soft and made me feel at ease like I was in the best place I could ever be. No matter where I was until I was by his side.

I smiled at him as he was standing in front of me with a microphone in his hands, smiling at me as I sat on the couch that was in the karaoke room.

"Dearest, darling, my universe. Would you take me along?" He started to sing sweetly, his eyes boring into mine, and I was blushing the whole time.

"Far away in the universe from Earth to Mars. Will you please go with me?" He reached his hands towards me as an invitation I smiled at him and took his hand.

"Run away from the world, run on. Go to the end with me, my lover." We sang together, as our voices melted into each other's. He held my hand, the microphone between us as we sang, his eyes looking at me with passion and with love.

"Give me a lovelier kiss, lover. Love is all, love is all. Love, lovе, love, love" Our voice got higher and higher as we sang, smiling into it when my voice cracked a bit. I felt like I might cry right there, because of how much he meant to me.

I found myself singing the song that made our love bloom into a mesmerizing cherry blossom, that never withered, as I looked down at Yunho’s unmoving figure.

"In the еnd, even though. How is it us? For us?" I started to sing quietly, my voice barely coming out. "Run away from the world, run on. Go to the end with me, my lover. Will it be a bad ending for us two, gone astray?" Tears fell down my cheeks like raindrops when the lyrics made so much sense. Was it the end of us? "Run away from necessity, run on. Go to the end with me, my lover." I held Yunho's hands as my sad tears fell on our hands. I closed my eyes.

"Give me a lovelier kiss, lover." A weak voice sang the song that wasn't mine. "Our love wins all, love wins all."  I snapped my eyes open and I saw Yunho looking at me with a weak and soft feature. And I started to cry harder. I jumped to the bed and on Yunho who groaned from the sudden impact. I was lying on top of him as I buried my head into his chest.

"You are here," I whispered as I still couldn't believe he woke up.

"Of course, I'm here angel." His voice was weak from the lack of speaking. I felt his hands traced up and down my back to calm me down.

"I was so scared, Yun." I lifted my head to look into his eyes. He smiled at me sweetly.

"I know, I'm here now. Come here." I scooted up, close to him as he sat up against the headboard and I straddled his legs.

I traced my fingertip on his features that I did so many times while he was unconscious, but it was different, because he looked full of life, like sunshine. My sunshine. "I'm so sorry Yunho for pushing you all the time. It was obvious you wanted to handle your feelings your own and I just didn't let you. I'm—"

"Hey, angel," His finger traced my lips to make me quiet. "I was stupid, okay? It was selfish of me, for pushing you away. I do trust you and I do love you; I was just an idiot who seemed to slowly lose himself…Forgive me please." He whispered those last words as his fingers still brushed my lips and it gave him comfort.

"It's okay, we will fight through it together, okay? After all, love wins all nah?" I smiled at him sweetly as he giggled.

"Love wins all, my angel." He whispered as he leaned closer to my lips.

And when our lips met, I felt like the world just healed and we were free to go out without a mask to breathe fresh air. Because he was my oxygen, he gave me the strength to fight the demons that haunted us in the dark mist. His hands wandered down to my waist as he pulled me impossibly closer to him, I wrapped my hands around his neck and deepened the kiss. His lips brushed against mine passionately like we were separated for an eternity. It did seem like it was an eternity. I learned my lesson and I knew I couldn't be apart from Yunho for even a second.

So, we are going to keep running hand in hand, running away from the venomous mist, or stopping to fight with the demons inside it. It didn't matter until we were together and the world was back to its normal phase.

But will the world ever go back to how it was before?

[anfie-in-the-box]

Be Who You Are (An Error Just Like Me)

Notes

A little something for @zu-is-here (: Thanks for the request! It was a bit difficult at first, but today inspiration hit hard and I couldn't help but write, write, write. It was amazing, and I'm quite proud of the result.

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For one too many times, Blueberrory stumbles on something he doesn't see and groans, frustrated, caught in Error's strings so he doesn't fall and possibly break a bone or two. Error laughs at him, glitching slightly, but helps Blueberrory regain his balance.

“Ugh. Ho-o-ow?” he mutters with barely concealed irritation. He's definitely become moodier as an error. He wonders if it would ever go away. 

“You want me to teach you how to navigate the Anti-Void? That's what I'm doing,” Error says, still giggling — and glitching, just a tiny bit. Blueberrory can't help but smile fondly. Oh, to slowly but surely learn to understand Error's twisted mind… He enjoys Blueberrory's struggles very much, but he also cares, and he also wants Blueberrory to succeed. If only to prove he's the best teacher and guide in the Anti-Void. And because they're becoming friends. 

“There's this one tiny little thing that I don't understand,” Error says, now frowning. 

“Am I missing something?” Blueberrory asks with hope. Maybe Error is finally tired of his games of vague charades? But he stands up and spreads his hands. 

“Come here and hug me.” 

Hope is a stupid feeling indeed. Error hates physical contact and barely knows how to soothe the feeling — before Blueberrory he didn't even have the clothes that would suit his needs. And now he just stands there, almost demanding a hug? Blueberrory knows Error's not the most stable person around, but this… 

Nonetheless, Blueberrory comes closer and… He's not sure what happens next, but stars, he's glitching like crazy. It doesn't hurt though, not at all, and then it ends as fast as it has started. And he finds himself a tiny little bit away from Error, though Blueberrory can swear he was close to him, closer than Error ever allowed. 

“What… What was that?!” Blueberrory shouts, startled. 

“Stupid, don't you realise that's your main advantage here in the Anti-Void?” Error makes a dissatisfied face, but there's a certain sparkle in his mismatched eye-lights. He enjoys knowing more and understanding better. And Blueberrory will be his favourite subject for a rather long time — he's a fast learner, but now that his nature and soul have changed, he has a lot of things to either learn or relearn. Like navigating his new home.

“I don't understand,” Blueberrory says after a few deep breaths. He's still frustrated but not angry or bewildered to the point of shock. “What happened? Why am I farther from you than I was before, well, trying and failing to hug you, I suppose? Why did I glitch like that?”

Silence falls. At least Blueberrory isn't irritated anymore, and Error's thoughtful face soothes his soul even more. Blueberrory really, truly misses the times patience came naturally to him. But he'll do his best anyway. And besides, that part of him is deep inside, more than a memory, less than an illusion — a part of his experience, a part of his past, long gone. Blueberrory isn't the magnificent Sans.

Error laughs loudly and Blueberrory takes a step back, startled. 

“You're so funny,” Error finally says when his laughter ceases. “Wonder whether I would be as funny if I had someone to look after me.”

Blueberrory perks up. Error doesn't talk about his past, or, well, his past in the Anti-Void. He loves telling stories about the AUs he once destroyed, or the AUs that managed to attract his attention and therefore stayed. The latter ones were far and between at first, but as Error learnt to tame his insanity, he found beauty and fascination in more and more things. He found his own reasons to grant mercy, as twisted as those reasons are.

“What's funny, then?” Blueberrory asks calmly. 

“That you really don't understand!” Error grins. “What happened is one of your own ways to be an error. Congratulations! Now you know what to master!”

Blueberrory sighs. Error's words still don't make any sense, though they really should. But that's fine, Blueberrory is still getting used to… everything, really. Error knows that, so Blueberrory will get his answers. Sooner or later, one way or another. 

“I see you're not getting it.” This time, Error quickly goes to Blueberrory and touches his shoulder. 

Well, he tries to. Blueberrory doesn't even get a moment to react. He's glitching again, and he's a few steps away from Error. Again. 

“Most errors can't touch living beings, as far as I know,” Error finally starts to explain with words. “But you? Oh, how I envy you, little Berry! You can't touch anything, not in the state you're in right now.”

“But I… I stumble on… whatever it is in the Anti-Void?..” Blueberrory mumbles, then grimaces — he's meant to sound coherent and confident, not like this. 

“Of course you do! That's why I said you've got to master your ways to be an error. They're advantages as much as they are obstacles.”

“So what you mean is… There's a way to cheat?”

“Sure, call it like that, why not! We are errors, but we are also hackers. The Anti-Void loves those who know the rules, but it loves those who set their own rules even more.”

“What is yours, then? Advantage and obstacle, I mean.” 

Error tenses for a moment — Blueberrory doesn't even start regretting his decision to ask. Enough is enough. But Error answers slowly, “My vision. Without the glasses, I see more. Or, well, differently.”

Blueberrory hums, not letting this show of Error's trust and honesty go unnoticed but also not focusing attention on his words. 

What feels like hours later (though you never know with the Anti-Void), Blueberrory still stumbles here and there, but sometimes he doesn't, glitching out of the way — and gets a standing ovation from Error, slightly mocking yet genuinely proud. What a mix.

“Be who you are — an error just like me,” he murmurs, almost to himself, but Blueberrory hears it anyway. He makes a promise to himself to become the second best error ever. The first is Error himself, of course.

So much to learn, so much to see, and Blueberrory won't be alone. Lucky him.

。。。

Credits

Undertale © Toby Fox

Error and Blueberror © loverofpiggies

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Notes

There's a few references here and there. The title is a slightly corrected line from Hazbin Hotel song Loser, Baby.

"Hope is a stupid feeling" is a belief from a series of Russian books that I like a lot, though I don't fully agree with this particular notion. Still interesting to look for situations where it works.

Thanks for reading, and take care 🌻

P. S. Requests are still open!