#san smut angst

[seonghwaddict]

to taint your soul — choi san

in which apparently even the daughter of an exorcist is not safe from the corruption of an incubus.

incubus!choi san x exorcist’s daughter!fem!reader. genre. smut, angst, southern gothic vibes. warnings. barely any plot, religious themes, religious guilt, swearing, explicit sexual content mdni, corruption, loss of virginity, masturbation (f.), referenced dacryphilia, fingering, referenced oral (f.), manhandling?, multiple orgasms, rough and gentle, big dick!san, creampie, marking, nicknames (angel, pretty girl, sweet girl, sweetheart). wc. 7.3k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. i should do more mythological characters!ateez cuz i enjoyed writing this and the lamb and the wolf. the demonology book/text here is partially from The Encylopedia of Demons and Demonology by Rosemary Ellen Guiley, but i made up some parts for the sake of the story. THIS FIC DOES NOT REPRESENT ANY OF MY OPINIONS AND I DO NOT INTEND TO OFFEND ANYONE.

listening to. burning desire, lana del rey // gibson girl, ethel cain // lilies, ethel cain & mercy necromancy // ptolemaea, ethel cain // heaven, taemin

masterlist.

you were cursed from the moment you were born.

the idea of being cursed or haunted by anything isn’t one you think about often, considering yourself protected by your father’s profession. at least one dusty bible on every bookshelf in the colonial monstrosity that is your home and crucifixes hung all around, it seems to be common sense that an exorcist’s home would be the safest place to hide from the dark.

unaware of it all, you used to let yourself be tucked into your lace-trimmed bedsheets as he pulled you to sleep with stories. tales of fallen angels and possessed souls became the lullabies of your childhood. admittedly, you were quite terrified of it all, but as you grew older and wiser, you realised there was no way they could get to you. but really, it was wishful thinking.

you weren’t aware of who your father used to be, nor were you aware of the debt he owed to a particular demon.

the dreams started the night after your twentieth birthday, vivid and unsettling. a man haunted them, equally as terrifying as he was handsome. tall and clad in dark silks, his whispered words and hungry eyes intrigued you. his touch, though a figment of your imagination, sent shivers down your spine, foreign yet infinitely alluring. you’d wake up with a jolt, panting, flushed cheeks and tingling skin as the dream stuck to you like cobwebs. your father passed the repeated dreams off as nightmares and you failed to notice the flash of fear cross his features.

one night, however, you were changing in your room. dimly illuminated by multiple candles you set around since you didn’t like how bright the large chandelier was, you held a dress in each of your hands, standing in front of the mirror as you held the clothing to your body in an attempt to figure out what to wear. you didn’t notice at first, but a figure lurked in the shadows of the bedroom. you didn’t notice the shift in the atmosphere or the flicker of the candles.

but soon, a soft sigh sounded through the room, so soft it could’ve been mistake for a whistling breeze outside your window. goosebumps prickled at your skin as you tensed, refusing to move at the oddly human sound. staring at yourself in the mirror intently, you caught a glimpse of a familiar face in the reflection of your mirror. your breath hitched as you fixed your eyes on him, afraid that if you blinked, he’d disappear.

you watched him. watched him take slow steps towards you as he smirked at the sight of your wide, fearful yet infinitely pure and innocent eyes. you convinced yourself you were hallucinating, the disturbingly realistic sounds of his footsteps as much of a figment of imagination as his being. but as he stood right behind you, a coldness swept over your skin and you flinched as his breath fanned against your bare shoulder. whipping around in surprise, you yelped softly at the sensation. but he was gone, and you were alone. breath erratic and eyes stinging, you scrambled to move a wooden cross stand from the top of your dresser to your bedside table.

after that you grew paranoid, always looking over your shoulder, sleeping with at least two safe and reliable candles lit. each time you walked through the hallways of your own home, you kept your gaze fixed on the ground, refusing to look at the portraits lining the dark walls as you thought they were watching you. the tiniest of sounds made you flinch and break a sweat, squeezing your eyes shut and muttering prayers, only to find out the sound came from either of your parents.

the constant state of fear and anxiety left you tired, deciding if your father wasn’t going to do anything about it, you would. on quiet feet, you crept through the halls at noon (you were too scared to go to that room at night), a rosary wrapped around your hand with a dainty little cross hanging from your clenched palm.

you father really was a well-known exorcist, often to go on trips within and beyond the country to treat what doctors couldn’t; demonic possessions. as a symbol of his successes and a means to prevent others from coming in contact with whatever a demon may have attached itself to, he brought home trophies and locked them in a little storage room in the basement. of course, he took many precautions—crucifixes all over the inside and outside, sprinkles of holy water here and there, he’d have your local priest come over and bless the area himself. despite all this, you never once stepped in, partially because your father advised you not to, mostly because you were completely and utterly terrified.

as you descended the creaking wooden stairs, a chill ran through you, the hairs at your nape standing in alert. maybe you were scaring yourself more than the room scared you. the dust tickled your nostrils, making you force down a sneeze as you cleared your throat. the wooden floorboards extended into a narrow hallway, lined by cobblestone walls. you rarely came down, in fact, you couldn’t remember the last time you were there, the surroundings seeming so foreign. there were only two doors, one leading to a storage closet and the other to a slightly scarier storage closet.

you stared up at the ominous door, standing tall and intimidating, a golden cross embossed right in the centra, doorknob dark and rusted. with shaky hands, you fished a copper from the hidden pocket of your plaid gown. it half-hearted a few sloppy attempts until you got the key in, squeezing your eyes shut as you force yourself to finally turn it.

another chill ran through your body as you push the door open weakly, cracking an eye open to look inside. had you come at night, you wouldn’t have been able to see anything, the only source of light being an elongated shirt window lining the top of the right wall, an inch below the ceiling. three shelves. one on the right, one of the left, and one down the middle of the room. the middle and left one were lined with various objects. you walked between them, looking but not daring to touch. the objects were quite diverse, you realised. dolls, clocks, little statues.

you took your time to get to the shelf you needed. along with these objects, you father also locked away any books he had that were related to demons in any way. most of them were confiscated from cults, some of their were from his personal collection. he claimed they were to protect you, and you didn’t completely disbelieve him. taking a deep breath before letting it out in a sigh, looking at all the titles. your fingertips ran over their leather bound spines, feeling the wrinkles and grooves. you knew there would be a lot, but as you looked upon the entire shelf, you estimated a good hundred-fifty books.

he organised them by categories. summoning, excommunication, identifying. identifying. that’s what you needed. you took a closer look at the section, nervousness fading briefly to be replaced by a faint taste of hope.

the encyclopaedia of demons and demonology.

deciding there had to be something in there, you pulled it out. the book itself was simple, bound in black leather. the cover was nothing special, just the title and author. by the looks of it, you’d be here for a while, seemingly at least three hundred pages long. you looked around the dark room, a small wooden desk was tucked into the corner though not a chair in sight. with a soft sigh, you walked over on weak knees, apprehensive about what you’d find in the book.

despite your father’s profession and all the bedtime stories, you never came in contact with demons or the spirit world. setting the book on the desk, you opened it to the index, having to squint to make out the text. but the next time you lifted your eyes off the page, a brass candle holder was tucked into the corner of the table.

you blinked. there was no way that was there before, but maybe you had just missed it. the pale yellow candle stood half melted, the hardened wax forming veins that ran down the sides and pooled in the brass bowl.

you held your breath momentarily before beginning to read through the a to z list of demons and other dark entities and their descriptions. you only skimmed, lingering on any that mentioned appearing in nightmares only to dismiss them when the rest of their descriptions didn’t match with your experience. surprised by just how much there was to read, you felt just a little curious, occasionally stopping to read extracts that had piqued your interest. it wasn’t until you got all the way to section i where something actually seemed to be helpful.

‘incubus—a lewd male demon who pursues women for sex. the incubus and his female counterpart, the succubus, visit women and men in their sleep, lie and press heavily upon them, and seduce them.’

you nearly missed it, continuing your skimming until the description registered, scrambling to turn back the page and reread it.

“oh.” you breathed at the realisation. that seemed to be the most accurate thus far, your finger tracing over the name as you furrowed your eyebrows and continued reading. the next paragraphs detailed how they’re conjured and where the name came from. you read some more.

‘incubi are especially attracted to women with beautiful hair, young virgins, chaste widows, and all “devout” females. nuns are among the most vulnerable and could be molested in the confessional as well as in bed. while the majority of women are forced into sex by the incubi, some of them submit willingly and even enjoy the act. it once was a common belief that women were more likely than men to be the sexual victims of demons, because women were inferior to men and less able to resist temptation.

incubi have enormous phalluses that—’

slamming the book shut, your eyes widened and a deep blush settled over your features, just staring at the cover for a moment as you collected yourself from the sudden vulgarity of the writing. after a moment, you cleared your throat and reopened the page, strategically skipping over the next paragraphs that detailed accounts of intercourse with such a demon.

‘an incubus may form attachments to those whose minds are occupied with dark and inherently sexual desires, those that are impure. one also can be summoned for coital gratifications, or a deal in which one’s first born is ommonly offered to repay their sevices (see: dealing with the demons, page 218).’

but that couldn’t be right. you always made sure to be a good girl, always helped at home. you volunteered to read to children at a local orphanage, always helped with charities and donations, always assisted people where you knew you could, stayed soft spoken and always began your requests with please and ended them with thank you. you kept to yourself most of the time, would never dare to raise your voice at anyone, never had any romantic interest, let alone sexual ones.

admittedly, the dreams involving the man— the demon had you waking up with an uncomfortable stickiness between your thighs. but before that, you never indulged. after that, you never indulged either, instead jumping from your bed and taking an ice could bath to calm yourself from the strange feeling. the temptations were always there and were always strong, but your want to be immaculate was stronger. to be free of sin.

a deal in which one’s first born is offered.

it seemed impossible, almost. you knew your father was a righteous man and your mother a pure woman. but where your mother happily shared stories of her childhood as heart-warming anecdotes, your father only dropped tidbits of his memories despite considering you two to be extremely close. you always chalked it up to him being a little boring or generally not very open. but maybe there was more to it…

“there you go, sweetheart.”

you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice, pushing the book away from you as you turned around a little too quickly, your knee knocking against the edge of the table.

there he stood, barely illuminated by the singular window as he took slow steps towards you much like the other day.

“so, you’ve finally figured it out, huh?”

each time he took a step, his muscles visible through the loose black silk, you inched away until the top of your thigh hit the wooden table, your hands bracing themselves on it to keep you from collapsing in fear. the closer he got, the more you realised just how attractive he was. broad-shouldered and radiating confidence, his feline eyes roamed over your figure. depite wearing a white gown that reached all the way down to your ankles, you felt so exposed.

tongue swiping along his bottom lip, drawing your attention to the action. he towered over you, making you feel weak and small as he trapped you against the table. your heart pounded against your ribcage and you feared it would break free and fall into his hands, unsure if the warmth on your cheeks and ump in your throat came from how utterly petrified you were or the way his breath fanned over your face like a whisper.

“your dearest father isn’t who he says he is,” he pouted mockingly, coming to a stop inches in front of you, letting his gaze settle on your quivering lips for a moment, “and me? well, you know what i am. and you also know we can have lots of fun if you allow it.”

your lips parted to speak but no words came out, instead opting to press them into a thin line and squeezing your eyes shut as you shook your head. you weren’t completely sure why you wer shaking your head, but if it would stop the incubus from tainting you, it was worth a try.

“don’t kid yourself, princess. i can smell how wet you are.” as if to emphasise his point, he inhaled deeply, leaning forward to ghost his nose over the slope of your neck without touching you.

it wasn’t until he said it that you notice you had been squeezing your thighs together, feeling warm all over and you stomach twisted in knots at the sound of his deep voice. something ached in your lower regions, but you tried your hardest to resist the thoughts.

but a little voice in the back of your head urged you to tilt your head back, to give him permission, to let his hands explore your untouched body. maybe just this once you could allow yourself to give in, to let your knees go weak and worry about begging for forgiveness later.

“all you have to do is drop the rosary.”

you gripped it tighter at the reminder of the protective object tangled between your fingers, fighting to keep your sanity intact. your breath hitched as you felt one of his fingers run along the beads, not daring to come close to the little silver cross or your skin.

“c’mon, pretty girl. drop it,” you heard the smirk in his voice, “let it go and i’ll take good care of you, i can make you feel things you’ve never thought of… i can make you feel alive, wouldn’t you love that? don’t you want to feel the desire? taste the lust?”

“n-no,” you gasped finally, finding your words, “it’s not right.“

he laughed, a low rumble from his chest, “i promise you’ll love being ruined by me,” he said, withdrawing his hand from yours, “i swear to all your precious little holy symbols, i know i can get you to want me.”

he moved closer and for a maddening moment you thought he was going to kiss you. faintly, you wanted him to. to feel the push of his lips against yours, to let his hands snake around your waist or grip your hips to pull you closer. there’s a ring on his index finger, you noticed, silvery and sharp, a symbol you didn’t recognise yet imagine him pressing it against your throat, branding your neck anew until it’s red and faithful. and maybe you crave for him to undo all the things in you that are holy.

“just drop it, pretty,” his breath teased your lips and you almost leaned forward in curiosity, wanting to see how just one kiss would feel, “i know you’re a good girl.”

those words. they’re almost enough for you to give in. how did he know those would strike a nerve, hit you where he knew it would work? not only did all your efforts ultimately lead to the same goal—purity, goodness—but you couldn’t deny the satisfaction you felt from reassurance. if you were an animal, you’d strive to be the priest’s favourite sacrificial lamb. to hold so very still and to bleed so prettily when the knife final comes down, to be reborn and be chosen all over again.

“don’t you get it?” he whispered, “i live inside you the same way you’re bound to live inside me. we’re a moebius strip, a never ending cycle of a snake eating it’s own tail. maybe it will end in destruction, but that’s your dear father’s doing. mutually assured destruction, maybe; you say yes, i’ll ruin you for everyone else, blacken the wool of your fur coat. you say no to me, i will suffer the consequences of not fulfilling a deal. you wouldn’t want someone to suffer because of you, hm?”

your grip on the rosary loosened and let your eyes finally flutter open. from this proximity, you could see every detail of his face and the image seared into your mind.

something in his eyes darkened as his lips curled, a playful smile, a predatory grin. the way he looked at you made you want to combust into flames, to fall to your knees, you skin rubbed raw on the ground as you beg him to make you feel.

“you don’t look so innocent anymore, you know? you’re docile and sweet, yes, but you’re not as pure as you think you are, there’s a little dirt in your pristine heart, a little lustful stain you can’t erase.”

“y-you’re wrong!” you protested, trying to convince yourself he was lying, “i’m good and i’ve always been good and i always will be good and i will not for the devil’s influence.”

“oh, but i’m not,” he pouted mockingly, moving his head back just an inch, looking down at you, “you’re practically shaking, so close to giving in… you’re the most pious girl here, yet you’re so close to sin, so close to me.”

you opened your mouth to continue your protests but flinched as you heard familiar heavy footsteps, looking up at the little window to see the familiar boots of your father about to enter the house after a long day of work. he was out, casting out malicious spirits and demons, and here you were, about to let one deflower you. the realisation seemingly made you come back to your senses, clenching the roary in your hand once more and looking for a way past him.

but… what would you even do afterwards? confront your father, the town’s devout exorcist, for making deals with the incubus in front of you? would he call you crazy, deny everything and treat you like just another one of his clients?

the footsteps were now above you, you could faintly hear him saying something to your mother though you couldn’t quite make out what it was. you’d never been as afraid of anything as you were of your own father, standing right above you, acting like he hadn’t damned you from the day you were conceived.

as if he could read your thoughts, could sense your panic that was completely unrelated to him, the incubus stepped back. his face was unreadable as his glazed over eyes fixated on you.

“don’t worry, sweet girl, i can wait. the longer you resist, the better it’ll feel when you finally surrender,” he gave you a small smile, different from the previous grins and smirks, as he nodded towards the window, “go.”

you could’ve run away the moment he stepped back, yet you didn’t move until he gave you the permission. you didn’t dwell on that fact as you slipped past him and reached up, shaky hands undoing the latch and opening outwards. you attempted to climb up, your arms burning as you tried lifting yourself, only to give up, panting softly from the effort.

“let me help you.” his voice offered, prompting you to look back at him. the seductive glint in his eyes was no longer there, taking a small step forward. “just… put it down, i promise i’ll help you and leave.”

you stared at him for a long moment. there was something so different in the way he looked at you now, suddenly soft and with good intentions. the voice of your father calling your name snapped you out of your stupor, nodding hurridely as you placed the rosary on the grass outside carefully before turning to look at him.

he gestured for you to turn away, your hands finding your hips as you did. the contact made you breath hitched, despite your layers of clothing between your curves and his hands, your stomach tickled with swarming butterflies as he lifted you up. the heat of his body behind yours distracted you for a moment, taken aback at how real he felt, how human he felt, even as he lifted you with ease.

you braced your forearms on the ground, pulling yourself up the rest of the way as he spoke.

“whisper my name three times, and i’ll be summoned wherever you are, ready to fulfill your needs.”

you stayed quiet for a moment, just sitting on the ground as you looked down at him, now able to see his full face clearning from his proximity to the window. “what’s your name?”

“san,” he smiled, “choi san.”

you loked away, up at your house as your father’s concerned voice called out your name again. “i should get going, but–,” you looked down to thank him, only to find an empty room and a sealed window. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, voiced trailing off, “thank you…”

the first time you touched yourself, it was san you were thinking about.

late at night, your parents fast asleep, a storm ragin outside, but all you could do was think about him. you tried, you really did. you tried to go back in the house and pretend everything was fine, that you had just been on a walk and your flushed face was from the excercise. secretely, all you could think about was him. how you wanted him to show up again—wanted him to make your breath hitch and your heart jump. wanted him to soothe whatever it was that ached inside you; the burn in the pit of your stomach, the spot where your waist met your hips, but most of all between your legs, were it had never ached like this before.

you excused yourself from dinner earlier, went to bed, and tried so desperately to fall asleep. whether it was to forget about it all, or to meet him in your dreams again, you couldn’t tell. you really tried, but haunting thoughts of how his hands held onto you rolled into your mind with images of all the things he could do to you. the raspy lilt of his voice, sometimes soft, sometimes commanding in a way that made your limbs feel like jello at the mere thought of it. his sharp eyes and sharp jaw and such tempting lips. he could have a kind face if he wanted to, yet his toned body, visible and obvious despite trying to hide behind his clothing, screamed sex appeal.

flashes from your previous dreams raced through your mind too. fragments of images where you could feel his hands all over you, his dark hair sticking to his sweat forehead, eyes rolled back from the pleasure he gave himself while you were forced to watch. you never quite gave in in the dreams either.

you tossed and turned in your bed, thighs pressed together so tight you worried you’d have long bruises down your inner thighs the next morning. the new feeling felt much too large for your fragile mind, overwhelming you, making your loose clothes feel suffocating. it wouldn’t leave you alone, wouldn’t let you sleep. mostly because you didn’t want to give the feeling a name, you refused to speak its name, even in your mind, even if it could identify this feeling.

pent-up and strained, coiled into yourself in a foetal position, you could only roll onto your back and let your hand trail down your body, hiking up the long skirt of your nightgown before letting your fingers dip between your thighs, spread at the knees. you let out a shaky gasp as you felt the wetness pooled beneath your undergarments, clamping your other hand over your lips. after feeling around experimentally, your fingers found a quick pace, rubbing over your clit, more desperate than they had ever been. your hand muffled your gasped out moans and whimpers, tears pricking at your eyes—partly from the guilt, mostly from the pleasure. you felt your heart beat all over your body, most of all right below your moistened fingertips.

shaky breaths and muffled needy cries were covered by both your hand and the storm outside your window. if hurts a little, your clit swelling as more and more slick coats it and the knot in your stomach grows tighter and tighter. but you don’t mind the pain, you think you deserve it, because after all, it’s forbidden and it’s not supposed to feel good. san is not supposed to make you feel so good. a demon was the one thing that wasn’t supposed to be on your mind, especially not in this way.

the thought of him made your hand move faster and suddenly your breath was stuttering and your core pulse as you finish quickly, biting down on your lip, hard enough to cut through the skin, to muffle your cries. when you came down from your high, you lay there for a few moments longer, heart racing as you glance at the door to make sure it was still closed. and when you realised what you had just done, shame clouded your lungs as you slipped your fingers out of your panties and raised them to your face.

your hands came away sticky. transparents webs of your pleasure linking your index and middle fingers together as you stared in horror before finally collecting yourself and jumping from your bed to scrub the sin from your hands in your bathroom.

you scrubbed until your fingers turned red and your palms raw, losing sensation from the ice cold water, the guilt sinking deeper and deeper the longer you took to cleanse your body. you hadn’t noticed the tears running down your cheeks until you stared at yourself in the mirror, sniffling and glossy-eyed. your body might be clean, but were you? if you wanted to be immaculate, how could you let yourself do such a thing?

it was his fault, really. him and his midnight eyes and electric touches and words that would drive you to madness, damnation.

you changed your panties and nightgown, burying them in your laundry basket as if you were burying the evidence of a crime. once done, you wanted nothing more than to sink into your bed and fall asleep. but as you stared at what you once thought was comforting, you could only think about your soft whimpers and shaking thighs. so you stripped your bed naked to decorate it anew with clean sheets and blankets and pillows, shoving the previous ones under your bed before finally falling into a deep sleep.

shame followed you like a pest for the next days, unable to properly smile because all you could think about was what you had done. and what you wanted to do. a heavy melancholy washed over you in these days, confining yourself to your room when ou didn’t have to come down for meals. if your parents picked up on it, they didn’t say anything. maybe they knew. what if they know?

maybe they didn’t say anything because they knew about san. perhaps they thought it was fate, that you would give in sooner or later. despite cracking a bit, you stood by your conviction that you wouldn’t, no matter what, summon him.

but… was he really so bad? had you not seen a moment of softness when he helped you? demons were, after all, fallen angels. could it really be so impossible he still had a sprinkle of previous angeilc qualities? silently, you were thankful he hadn’t showed up on his own again. if he did, you were afraid you’d throw away all sense of faith and throw yourself into his arms, let him kiss you and lick you and suck you and bite you and everything in between.

despite all this, despite not wanting to summon him, you couldn’t deny the unsettling feeling weighing you down with each step. it had been there before—before whatever happened in the basement—dragging your seemingly heavy limbs through vacant hallways. but when he touched you, when his fingertips brushed against yours as he touched the shiny black beads of your rosary even though he didn’t mean to, when his hands lifted you into the air and helped you escape, the way he talked to you, his words and tone, that unsettling feeling had been lifted off your shoulders.

you noticed, for a brief moment, when you spent that short amount of time with him, you had no desire to think of god or rules or expectations. even if it was for a split second, it happened, and perhaps that what terrified you the most. just wanted to be, something you hadn’t been allowed for so long.

so when your parents said they’d be out late for some dinner you had no interest in attending, you paced around your room, deep in thought as your typical long nightgown tickled your ankles. millions of thoughts raced through your kind but, at the core, they were all the same. san, san, san. you felt like he had attached himself to your very soul, and you’re not quite sure how it happened.

without thinking, you stopped your pacing, glancing at the crucifix on your bedside table, a reminder. you couldn’t take it anymore, reaching out to take the wooden symbol and hide it in your closet. was it really wrong if it was still there, only trapped behind the wooden double doors, nestled between your skirts and shirts and gowns and gowns? out of sight, you felt less bad about what you were going to do.

your eyes squeezed shut and you did as he told you to, lips parting to whisper his name thrice. almost instantly, a gust of wind blew through your room and you knew there was someone else there with you. your eyes remained shut until you heard footsteps stalking towards you, his familiar voice filling the eerie silence of the room.

“hello, angel,” he grinned, borderline menacing, as he backed you up against your dresser. much like before, you were trapped, the back of your thighs pressed against the wood. only this time, you weren’t afraid, “i knew you’d give in sooner rather than later.”

you didn’t reply, didn’t know how to reply, only breathing shallowly, fingers curling into the edge of your dresser as you glanced from his eyes to his lips repeatedly.

“you need to give me permission, you know,” he chuckled, tilting his head to the side, “there are rules for deals such as these.”

“please.” you breathed, somewhere between a whisper and a needy whine as your round eyes looked up at him so desperately.

as soon as the word left you, his lips were on yours. hungry, devouring you, sucking on your bottom lip like it’s a candy as you can’t help but melt and whimper against him. his hand found your cheek, the touch surprisingly soft compared to the madness of his kisses. your heart rattled against your ribcage like a bird wanting to escape its confines. his saccharine saliva seeped into your mouth as his tongue broke past your lips, running over your teeth and the roof of your mouth as you let him do whatever he wanted.

his hands are all over you and yours are all over him, grabbing at each other because there was no way to get any closer like this. your thoughts, unlike before, are completely quiet, head empty and drunk on the sloppy kisses, mouthfuls of teeth clashing against each other. he was supposed to be gentle, he wanted to be gentle, yet now you’re pressed against the dresser and he’s kissing you hard.

it was wrong, but it felt too good. that was clear from the moment your kisses turn open-mouthed, lips clinging and tongues dancing. you shivered as both his hands held you by your hips once more, lifting you to sit on the edge of the oak furniture, caressing your hips bones through the thin fabric of your dress.

your hands rug at his shirt lightly, a silent plea for him to remove it, wanting to see and feel every inch of his divine body. he complies, separating his lips from your to reach over his shoulder and grip the silky shirt from the back, pulling it over his head, tossing it aside. your hands explore his naked torso, fingernails scratching along his skin as he loses himself in the taste of your kisses.

his hands dragged the long skirt of your gown up your legs, fingers ghosting over the supple skin of your calves and thighs before letting the cloth bunch up at your hips, winding your legs around his waist before lifting you off the dresser. you cling to him the way the thought of him cling to you for so long before this as he carries you. he lays you down gently, your head spinning as he kneeled on the edge of your bed and leaned over you, moving his lips from yours to mouth at your neck.

his hot breaths dance along your skin, across your collarbone, neck, pressing wet kisses down to the fabric covering your chest. you gasped softly as he brushed his teeth against your skin, a reminded that he could really break you if he wanted, but the feel of his lips against the curve of your neck, testing out the waters of your shoulder, made the intimidating thought vanish.

he teases the skin just above your neckline with nibbles that have you throwing your head back with soft whimpers, only encouraging him as his left hand kept one of your legs hitched up against his hips and his right undid the ribbons at the back of your dress. the fabric loosens and slips around, one sleeve falling over your shoulder slightly as he sat you up a little and pulled the dress over your head, discarding it and leaving you in your white ruffled bra and panties.

you’re dizzy, delirious with thirst—for his touch, his kisses, for everything his sharp lips could give you, for him to relieve the ache between your legs. you shiver as you’re left bare, nipples peaking through your bra, undergarments barely hiding your most precious parts. you try covering yourself with shaking arms, despite the little fabric still be there, but his hands move them aside, pulling them to rest on his bare chest. his eyelids flutter for a moment at the contact, your hands so much colder than his.

he leans back to look at your, hand at your back winding around to massage a handful of one breast, watching your breath hitch. “such a pretty girl, and all for me.”

“san…” you whimper aimlessly, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“such an angel,” he teases again, thumb circling over your clothed nipple lightly, grinning at how helpless you looked, “supposedly protected by your father, by god, yet here you are, practically begging for a demon to fuck you.”

he presses himself closer and you can feel the thick and heavy weight of his cock smudge against your core, gasping softly as you eyes roll back, his tip prodding against the fabric covering your sensitive clit. his name falls from your lips once again, like a softly uttered prayer as you back arches. he takes the opportunity to undo the clasp of your bra, slipping the item off you before continuing to tease your perked nipples, leaning down to lick and suck at them as his hips grind against yours. you weren’t sure when he took off his pants, but you didn’t quite care, not when his impressive girth covered your core so well. sometimes the tip would dip into your entrance before leaving just as quickly, your toes curling as it stretched you and your panties.

he moans into your neck, grinding against you at just the right pace, his precum smearing all over you already-drenched panties. the feeling of his tip prodding at you clit so continuously makes you come quickly, and much harder than the other night when you touched yourself. you writhe beneath him, shaking and crying out his name as your back arches from the bed.

“hm, you’re so much prettier like this, angel, succumbing and throwing away any desire of virtue,” he mutters against your jaw, having sucked dark marks onto the skin right below it, his deep melodic voice.

angel. the way he calls you that makes you shiver. how could he do that? call you an angel while plucking out the feathers of the wings you’d once had?

when he enters you, it’s slow and deliberate, leaning down to whisper into your ear as he presses your hands into the white mattress—”heaven itself could not make you feel like this.”

“i’ve never… you know…” you had admitted shyly once you came down from the first orgasm he coaxed out of you.

he only chuckled, caressing your cheek. “i know. virgins always smell the sweetest.”

you pleaded for him to be gentle, and how could he say no when you were begging so prettily? now his length is barely halfway inside you and you’re already shaking, drenched and deprived pussy squeezing him tightly as he swallows down your broken moans, holding back him own. you feel abnormally good to him, unable to remember the last time he fucked such a perfect pussy.

as he reaches previously untouched parts of you, his tip brushes against a spongey little area that has you clenching, your breath hitching followed by a gasped moan as you come again. stars flood your vision, feeling like your body was on fire as your hands tightened under his. his tongue licks up every one of your sounds, smothering you as he pulled back a bit to press against the spot some more.

your moans soon turn into soft whines, twitching from overstimulation before he fially continues to enter you. it’s a tight fit, but he bottoms out eventually.

“fuck- you take me so well, you’re so perfect.” he groans, looking down at where he can see his tip bulging through your stomach.

you never imagined just how full you would feel, the stretch burning yet somehow still pleasurable as you squirm beneath him. he doesn’t wait, retracting and fucking into you slowly, letting you feel every curve and vein of his perfect cock.

he loses track, but he thinks he’s made you finish 4 times already. he’s not surprised, virginity leaves most people sensitive, and the fact he’s been teasing you in and out of your dreams for months likely didn’t help. san revels in it though, basks in the sounds you try to hold back so desperately. he isn’t lying when he says you’re pretty, hypnotised by your face contorted in pleasure and your body, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. they somehow still have an innocent glint in them, even as he manoeuvres you into different positions before finally easing you into your back once more.

you arousal is smeared all over yourself and him and the bedsheets. clear and sticky, glistening in the candlelight. at some point he slipped out of you to lean down and have a taste, groaning as you mewed above him. when his teeth grazed your abuser clit, you finish once again and a moment later he’s back inside you.

eventually, his hips stutter and a newfound pace takes over. “shit, angel, i’m gonna fill you up so good. would you like that?”

you can only nod frantically, brain turned to mush, jaw dropped to let out your lazy whimpers. you’ve lost track of everything but him; his touch, his voice, his influence. if you parents walked in or he disappeared, you’d only be able to lay there, completely helpless.

he never really stops, taking his time to worship your tight hole, knowing he’ll only be able to stop when he comes. though, by the looks of it, it’ll be sooner rather than later.

his groans and moans sound blissful in your ears, holding your name between his teeth with a low whimper. he spills his tick warm cum into you, the new sensation making you shake and squirm as you feel your insides being filled. another orgasm washed over you, though a little weaker, drunk on his scent and his saliva and him him him.

he kisses you, bruisingly, slipping out of yoh and letting you feel his seed seep out of your hole and run down your thighs, pussy coated in milky white. he slumps against you, detaching his lips from yours to gaze down at your barely open eyes.

it’s tiring, you can’t deny that, but it just feels so good. all your disgusting, fucked up thoughts were because of him. and now your most intimate parts will always be tainted by his hands. he calls you ‘good girl,’ yet you know you’ll never be good again.

choi san: voice like silk, touch like satin, incubus, demon. you’d think demons kill people, but your purity was his only homicide. he murdered your virginity. murderer.

but you do wish for him to kiss you again.

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

fic taglist. @ta3baee @juyofans @sourkimchi @desirehorizon @revepixy @yungilia @cntlyv @mcendpoet @kimseungminsprincess @cookiechristie @bluesunpurplestar1117 @vnessalau @k1ttym0nkey @kyeomooniee @aarzoo-2 @pinkgirly-18-blog @yourfatherlucifer @puddingjongho @futuresoffantasies @reallywingedland @spenceatiny18 @im-def-not-ok @hwapou @a1sh1teruu @lover-ofallthingspretty @arabelleum @hoshiseon @guggu6gvai @seongsbf @honggatito @deltamoon666 @yunhoszn @1-800-fuccthisshit

[eightmakesonebraincell]

ateez as royals who fall for you (maknae line)

read hyung line here

genre: royalty!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, a brainrot and smutfest of royal tropes

length: 11.3k

c/w: very nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (sex work, murder, assassination, execution, mentions of misogyny)

a/n: as much as writing royals was tricky, it's kind of 🤢 sad 🤢 to see this au end. that being said nobody ask me for a pt 2 pls i need to recover from the trauma LMAOO and as always, huge thank you to the queen of royal au's herself @sorryimananti-romantic for helping me finish the fic and for teaching me how to make moodboards using something that is *not* word doc :')

san

pov: you're forbidden lovers

“shh,” san hushes you with a teasing curl of his fingers that are buried inside you. “wouldn’t want everyone outside to know what a dirty little slut the princess is, do you?”

his other hand covers your mouth, stifling the breathy moans and desperate whines that escape your lips as you sit in between his legs, naked and pressed back to lean against his chest

there is the sound of water splashing over the edge of the bathtub when san hooks his feet around your inner ankles so that he can spread your legs wider for him

he presses the palm of his hand harshly against your clit and your back arches with a muffled worship of his name

“or maybe you like that,” he teases “you like the idea of people knowing how good i make you feel with my fingers”

san removes his hand from your mouth and lowers it to pinch your nipple, smirking against your neck as you babble incoherently

he coos as he adds yet another finger into you, “imagine that, everyone knows you as the princess who loves being fucked dumb. and by one of her servants, no less” 

all caution is thrown to wind and you drop your head back to lean against his shoulder, mouth lolling open with unrestrained pleads for more, more, faster as he angles his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside of you

“cum, princess” he demands

you grip bruises onto san’s thighs and arms when the pace of his fingers doesn’t relent even after your orgasm has washed over you

his arms tighten around you as his thighs flex to keep you still in his hold

you let out a choked sob from the overstimulation, teetering between pain and pleasure

“give me one more, i know you can do it,” he coaxes

the hand that has been fondling your breasts snakes down to rub your clit

with his fingers knuckle-deep inside of your pussy and his other hand playing relentlessly with your sensitive clit, the scale tips over and your vision blurs as another wave of pleasure hits you, more intense than the first one

“princess?” and then a knock. “are you okay?”

san slowly draws out the remainder of your orgasm with lazy thrusts of his finger into you

you just know he’s enjoying himself when you have to hide the shakiness in your voice to answer back to your maid outside, “everything’s fine. i’ll be done soon”

“soon?” san smirks, lifting you up by the waist to align your folds with his swollen cock. “then we better make this quick”

because you and san do not have the luxury of time, much less the luxury of love

he isn’t just another one of the numerous servants who serve you

he is everything to you despite how taboo it is for a princess and servant to love each other

his insignificance within the palace makes it much easier for him to slip away; for nobody to take notice

but at the same time, his insignificance is the whole reason why you two must be secretive in the first place

you make sure san has safely snuck out of the bathroom before you finally exit the bathtub and stand on unsteady legs

you allow your maids to come in and help you into the elaborate attire you are to wear for the afternoon

your parents have informed you that you are going to have visitors, thus requiring you to look your best

without much time left until the appointed meeting due to your…escapade, you make your way to the great hall, catching a glimpse of san’s dimpled smile from amongst the other body servants and waiting staff in the room

you have only just settled into your seat next to the king and queen when the guard outside the doors announces the arrival of your guests - the monarchs from the neodonian kingdom

schooling your expression to one of neutrality, you watch as they enter

and then you realise it isn’t just the neodonian king and queen who have come to visit

but the prince as well

he is undeniably handsome and pleasing to the eye with his sleekly gelled hair, chiseled features and tall, sturdy build

the young prince catches you looking at him and breaks out into a friendly smile and-

oh

he has dimples too

the king garners everyone’s attention with a clear of his throat, before he welcomes the monarchs

prince jaehyun, you learn his name is

“after much discussion between ourselves and king jeong and queen jeong, we are pleased to announce our desire for closer relations between our kingdoms,” your father starts, booming voice resounding within the hall

you can’t stop yourself from looking over at him as he speaks with purpose, a strange niggling feeling starting to twist your stomach

the tight smile that your mother passes you from your father’s other side does little to settle your nerves

“as such,” the king continues, “we shall look forward to the engagement between my daughter and prince jaehyun”

there is a roaring sound in your ears, as if you have been pushed to stand under a raging waterfall

engagement

the engagement

you

prince jaehyun

the engagement between you and prince jaehyun

it takes everything in your body not to bolt up from your seat

your hands grip the armrests of your seat with a grasp so tight you are certain you will leave a permanent imprint of your agony

instead, you look around frantically for the one person your instincts are screaming for

where is san?

you are afraid to see how much this is going to hurt him

you are desperate to tell him that you had no idea about this

you are aching to press confessions of love and reassurance against his lips

but just like the insignificance of his status, san is nowhere to be seen

over the two years that you and san have been in your secret relationship, he has gained extensive knowledge of which particular tasks allow him a greater chance of seeing you, which corridors reach you the quickest, and which times during your schedule you have a break

never would you have thought he would use this knowledge to avoid you

it continues like that for the weeks following the announcement

you have no choice but to spend time with your future fiance when your father tells you very clearly to “ensure the prince feels at home”

prince jaehyun is warm and you find yourself getting along with him like you two are friends, but that is it - there are no sparks brighter than friendship

when you spend time with him, you cannot help but compare him to san; san would’ve said this, san would’ve done that, san, san, san

jaehyun engages you in conversation, easily filling in the gaps and lulls with little comments here and there, equipped with a charming laugh and deep dimples

but it only reminds you of san’s dimples and crescent eyes when you two would race through corridors, fingers tightly interwoven as you both run away to a secluded area with hushed giggles

jaehyun points out that neither of you like mushrooms during a dinner and helps nudge the servings on both of your plates to one side

the smile as you say “thank you” does not fully grace your lips because you think about san, who boasts that he will eat all the mushrooms in the world so that you never have to lay eyes on one ever again

jaehyun offers a soft yet sturdy hand to help you down the stairs or when he notices you are walking in heels across an uneven surface

your body recalls san’s rough, calloused hands that leave a trail of goosebumps wherever they touch your bare skin as he worships your body all night long

jaehyun is handsome and he is kind, but he is not san

the night before the king officially announces your engagement with prince jaehyun arrives

and still, you have not had a moment alone with san since he disappeared during that first announcement in the great hall

hurt and longing consume you to the very core

some days it is manageable, a concealed yet incessant thought, like a sticker stuck to the sole of your shoe

other days it wraps around your soul completely like a constrictor tightening as it slowly squeezes the life out of its prey

but you know that you cannot be selfish

what you feel, san feels with an intensity multiplied several times

after all, you are not the one who must stand in the shadows as the love of your life becomes engaged to somebody else, powerless to do anything but watch and poison your own smile with lies

you are lying on your bed when a quick, sharp knock sounds on your bedroom doors

you make no move to acknowledge your visitor, having told your maids very clearly you did not want to be disturbed tonight

your last night as yourself before you become prince jaehyun’s fiance

but then the knocks come a little more urgent, a little more frantic, just like your heartbeat does as it starts to speed up in anticipation

you hold your breath as you hurry to pull open the doors-

and there he is

“san-”

he swallows the rest of your words in a desperate kiss, his hands coming up to cradle your jaw as he walks you backwards so that he can step into your room

he tilts your head and slots his lips against yours again while he nudges your door closed with his foot

it isn’t until you let out a whine as his tongue swipes over your bottom lip that he pulls back to finally look at you, both of his thumbs caressing your cheekbones

you grip the front of his linen shirt, afraid that he will disappear as soon as you let go

“san, i- i had no idea, i didn’t agree to any of this”

he shushes you gently, a painful smile adorning his handsome face

“i know. i know, so please don’t cry, love,” he murmurs softly

you don’t even realise the weeks of suppressed emotions have started making their way down your face in salty trails until san uses the back of his fingers to tenderly brush them away

“i’m getting engaged tomorrow, san,” your voice breaks as reality settles in

you are so afraid

you are so lost

above all, you are so in love with san

“i know,” he reassures again, “but until tomorrow, you are still mine”

and so you spend your last night together

time has always been precious; conversations, kisses and touches rushed and with fervour

but tonight, san takes his time with you

he lays on your bed with you cradled on top of him, limbs tangled together as he savours the taste of your lips against his

he turns you onto your back as he slowly undresses you, leaving tattoos of his love each time he bares another part of your body

he pleasures you with his fingers whilst whispering into your ears, creating a harmony with his praises and the melodious moans that leave your lips

and as he brings you both to your highs numerous times throughout the night like an ingrained dance routine, it is accompanied with confessions of i love you

san holds you against his chest under your blankets so tightly that you cannot tell where your body ends and his body starts

before you drift off, safe and protected in his arms, he murmurs against your temple, “no matter what happens tomorrow, no matter what happens in the future, my heart will always be yours”

“as will mine”

you wake up the next morning to an empty bed and an equally empty heart

restless and drowning in a mix of emotions, you pace the empty corridors of the guest bedchambers

which is where jaehyun finds you as he exits his room

he is surprised but is quick to greet you kindly, “good morning, princess. what are you doing here?”

you pause mid-step

what are you doing?

“prince jaehyun,” you let the words come out of you before you can regret them. “can we talk for a moment?”

he nods, entering his room again as he pulls the door open wider for you to follow

jaehyun closes the door and then offers you a seat on his sofa, before pulling up his own chair and settling a respectful distance away from you

“i hope you don’t feel uncomfortable in my room,” he explains, “i thought that we would be less likely to be disturbed in here…considering most people know of our engagement today”

“actually, i wanted to talk to you about that”

“go on,” he encourages you with a dimpled smile

you take a deep breath

“i’m sorry,” you blurt out

and then you are admitting to the prince that he is lovely and charming and caring, but you just don’t see it working out with him

you don’t want to get engaged with him

because your heart already belongs to somebody else

“good”

“i’m so sorry, i should have been honest with you from the start but- wait, what?” you look up from where you have been nervously picking at your cuticles

jaehyun is smiling at you - a genuine smile that you did not know he had

“i’m actually relieved to hear that, princess,” he admits. “because i…also have someone that i love back home”

and for the first time, you and jaehyun truly see each other in the same light

“who is it?” he asks

“his name is san,” and then you add on, “he has dimples just like you do” 

you ask him the same question

you see the way jaehyun’s expression softens with love from just the mere thought of the other

it makes you wonder whether you have the same look on your face when you mention san

jaehyun jokes, “want to be the one who tells your father we’re calling off the engagement? i don’t fancy getting executed today”

but despite what he says, mere hours later, when you are both standing in the great hall before your parents - the kings and queens of both your kingdoms - he is the one to speak up

“your majesty, we have decided to part ways peacefully and would not like to proceed with the engagement. our kingdom will always be your ally, regardless of marital relations or not”

“what?” you see veins starting to appear across the king’s forehead as he tries to maintain his temper, but the queen and the jeong monarchs seem to be taking the news much better

disappointed, perhaps, but understanding

the queen leans closer to remind the king that they had all agreed to this engagement on the terms that the decision would ultimately be yours and jaehyun’s

you suddenly speak up because this may be the only time you have the courage to

“i have one more thing to say,” you declare. “i revoke my noble status and thus declare nullified all the privileges, rules and traditions that come with nobility. i have someone i love and i wish to marry them as myself, not as the kingdom’s princess”

the king roars furiously, “that is enough! leave!” and he slams his hand against the throne’s armrest

shocked and betrayed by your father’s reaction, you rush out of the great hall with tears welling in your eyes

only to run straight into the waiting arms of san

“oh, princess,” he murmurs against the crown of your head as he engulfs you in his embrace

he doesn’t have to say anything for you to realise that he has heard the whole conversation

but you do not care about anything anymore

you are where you want to be, held by who you want to be with

“how are you here?” you sniffle

“jaehyun approached me earlier. i thought i was going to get beat up,” san’s attempt to make you smile is successful

when you lift your head up to look at him, you realise his eyes are wet as well

then you feel his body stiffen as his eyes shift to focus on something behind you

someone

he immediately steps away from you, bowing deeply as he greets the queen

you turn around to see her face adorning an endearing smile

“it’s fine, sannie,” she says, and you are not sure whether you and san are more surprised by the fact that she knows him by name or by the affectionate nickname she has used

“i’ll, uh, leave you two to talk,” he flusters

she thanks him with a teasing remark, “i won’t keep her away from you for very long”

san waits further down the corridor, back turned to give you two a moment of privacy

and then she is stroking your hair affectionately

“i am so proud of you. you’ve grown up so well and you are so brave,” she says

you don’t understand

you ask, “why aren’t you angry?”

“oh, baby,” she fondly runs her fingers through your hair, just like she used to when you were younger. “before my duties as the queen to my people, i am the mother to my daughter. i love you and all i want is for you to be happy”

your lips tremble with emotion as your mother pulls you into a hug

“does sannie make you happy, dear?”

you nod, “the happiest”

“then that is all i want. now go,” she takes a hold of your shoulders and gently turns you in the direction of san. “i’ll talk to your father”

with one last encouraging squeeze, you race down the corridor towards san

he hears your footsteps and has already turned around with open arms waiting to catch you

you hear him let out an oomph! with how hard you throw yourself into him, but he is then swaying your bodies side to side

san pulls back slightly with an incredulous look. “does this mean we can be together? together together?” 

“i goddamn hope so because i gave up my princess privileges for you. no more carriages, no more assorted sweet delicacies, no more daily massages-” you fold down your fingers as you continue listing things off

he cuts you off with a tickle to your sides as he says, “that’s easy to sort out”

“first, you’ll still be my princess,” he unfurls one of your fingers so it stands upright again

“second, i’ll carry you myself so that you never need to use your feet again,” he unfurls another finger

“i’ll give you a treat whenever you want,” he kisses your lips, nibbling on your bottom lip with a teasing tug

“and, dear princess,” he pulls you flush against his body and you have to steady yourself on his chest to avoid tripping over, “i can give you hourly massages…”

smirking, he starts to lower his head to suck pretty marks onto your neck as he whispers in a low voice, “...if you can keep up”

mingi

pov: you're the prince's maid

for what you are about to do, you could very well be executed should somebody catch you

but desperate times call for desperate measures

and there’s no guarantee that you and all the other staff will not be executed anyway…

not with what has just happened in the palace

you push the door closed behind you with a soft click, using the brief changeover of guards to slip inside the bedroom of the youngest prince, unnoticed

you call out softly but urgently, “prince mingi”

when you hear him groggily murmur, starting to bubble towards the surface of consciousness, you dare to give his shoulder a rough shake

“prince mingi, please wake up”

his eyes flutter open, confusion starting to clear the fogginess in his head as he struggles to comprehend the sight of your face hovering inches from his, deep into the hours of the night

“w-what’s going on?” he clears his husky voice, “are you okay?”

you wish you could reach out and smooth the wrinkles of concern from his forehead

reassure him that everything will be okay until he falls back asleep

but there is no time

“the crown prince is dead and we must leave. now.”

the effect is immediate, like you have just driven a knife into his chest

although you suppose it must not feel very different for prince mingi right now

“the crown prince is d-” the word tastes vile on his tongue, so he asks after his second oldest brother instead. “what about prince eun?”

you must drive the knife into him once more

“he was the one who murdered the crown prince, but he has framed you for the murder. there is no time, prince mingi, we must leave now”

“the court will find me innocent,” yet he lets you tug him out of his bed

you hastily help prince mingi into a dark brown robe while you shake your head, “not when your inscribed sword is currently covered in the crown prince’s blood. we do not know who is secretly working for prince eun. until we know for sure, we do not stand a chance of clearing your name”

he knows that you’re right, even if his heart is hoping that you are wrong

the prince slides his hand into the gap between his bed and wall, pulling out a spare sword and wrapping the belt around his waist

eyes sweeping across his chamber one final time, he locks eyes with you grimly before turning to flee

you follow the prince through a back passageway - it’s not entirely a secret and it won’t be long before the royal guards come for the prince, discover his empty bedroom and give chase

but it is long enough to give you two a head start

he helps you up onto the back of his personal horse before he swings himself up easily onto the saddle behind you

with a nudge of his feet, the prince sends the horse into a gallop

you startle with a yelp, having never ridden a horse before, much less one at this pace

prince mingi presses himself a little closer to you and slots his chest against your back as he leans forward to guide your hands to hold the reins with his

“here,” he murmurs, “just follow me”

he shifts one hand to settle on your waist, guiding your body into a comfortable rhythm that dances in sync with the horse’s movements and his own

when he’s sure you’ve gotten the hang of it, the prince places his hand back on the reins, yet he stays close, keeping you safely encased within his arms to prevent you from falling off

you’re not sure how long you two ride for

but at some point the prince slows the horse to a canter

with the slower sway of the steed, the steady clack of hooves against the forest floor, and the warmth of the prince around you, you drift off to his whispered, “sleep, i’ve got you”

you wake up to find yourself on a scratchy pile of leaves

the events of last night piece themselves together when you spot prince mingi, still adorning his deep blue silk pajamas, leaning against a tree a few feet away

it would have been a sight to see if not for the fact that-

“what are we going to do now?” you sit up, and the prince’s robe, you now register, falls from around your body

the prince gives you a warm smile as you rub the sleep from your eyes with fisted hands

“we’ll head into halsburg. the town is small enough the news should not have traveled that far yet. we’ll replenish some supplies and go from there”

it’s unspoken

the fact that there is no solid plan from there

even if the two of you have managed to escape the royal guards, for how long can you two run?

plus, it will be impossibly difficult to find evidence while on the run, when the answers are within the castle walls themselves

but you push those thoughts aside as you two enter halsburg, the prince’s hood pulled up over his face

you do the bulk of the purchases, less likely to be recognised by the townspeople

it’s mainly food and water for yourself, the prince, and his horse, and a simple tunic to replace his royal pajamas - something you have been teasing him about since you woke up

later that night, hours away from the outskirts of halsburg, you two settle for a couple hours of rest

a small fire crackles away to the song of the cicadas, an occasional pop as the licks of flames cast shadows across your faces

you glance at the prince sitting across from you, who is idly fiddling with his pajama top

specifically, the royal crest of the song family embroidered onto its front pocket

your heart clenches painfully, knowing the death of a family member is hard enough to process without the additional weight of being framed for murder, much less by your own brother who is the real culprit

“prince mingi…” you start, voice low

he glances up at you, eyes softening as he curves his lips up into a small smile, “i’m okay.”

you hesitate for a split second before letting the clench in your gut pull you to your feet, and you shuffle to settle back down in front of the fire, except this time beside the prince

all the while his eyes never leave you, not even when you nudge his shoulder softly and say,

“you don’t have to be strong. not in front of me…”

and he knows

because despite the differences in your social statuses, you are the person he trusts the most

you, the girl who used to trip over the lengths of his robes that you carried, now a woman who holds herself righteously and bravely

you, who chose to risk your own life from the moment you woke him up in his chambers

you, who is still risking your life to flee with him

“only if you stop calling me prince,” he jokingly nudges you back, attempting to make the atmosphere lighter despite the wetness that is starting to paint his eyes. “with you, i am just mingi”

“okay, prince mingi,” you tease

yet, you still extend a hand out to him, palm upturned in a silent invitation for comfort should he wish to seek it, because you can tell that he isn’t quite ready to seek it verbally

mingi laces his larger fingers through yours, tucking your interlocked hands closer to his body as he draws his knees up so that he can rest his chin upon them

mingi thinks that he feels numb more than anything, but he finds he isn’t as surprised as one would expect him to be

perhaps he always knew of his middle brother’s thirst for the throne 

he just never thought it would be enough to spill blood

for now though, he lets himself be distracted by your thumb tracing mindless patterns against his knuckles

he lets himself relish in the heat radiating from your side that seems to warm him from inside out, even as the embers of the fire slowly lose their glow and die out with the darkening night

the days start to repeat themselves

you two cover as much distance as you can while sparing what time you can afford for yourselves and mingi’s horse to rest

mingi has decided to travel to prince yunho's kingdom, an old and trusted ally who may be able to provide you two with protection while he pulls strings to fight back against prince eun

from his calculations, the journey will take at least another two weeks

and although mingi doesn’t tell you this, deep down he does not know whether you two have two weeks left

the threat of the royal guards catching up hangs over the two of you like a hangman’s noose

neither of you have brought up that night by the fire either

but something has definitely changed in the way you seek comfort and reassurance in each other

as if so long as you have each other, everything will be alright in the end

when you feel him tremble as he sleeps curled around you, restless from a plaguing nightmare, you hush sweet nothings and brush his locks away from his forehead until his breathing steadies out again

and when you’re seated on the saddle in front of him, you now having long grown accustomed to horse riding, he still finds himself resting a comforting hand on you somewhere - your hips, thigh or over your own hand

sometimes when he is laughing softly with you, your arms brushing against each other, you imagine a different story; one where you are worthy of loving him

sometimes when you are tucked into his chest, small exhales escaping your open lips as you sleep, mingi imagines a different story; one where he is able to love you freely

because despite the blood running through his veins that has ultimately led to his downfall, you still look at him as though he has placed the stars in the very sky that you two have spent countless nights under

and although he knows the reality is that he cannot, he tries to write his own story, even if just for tonight

you are lying in his arms, legs tangled together, when the question comes tumbling out of his lips

“will you stay with me, forever?”

he feels you still in his embrace, before you’re pulling back a little to look at him with a chuckle

“you should be asking a princess that, prince mingi, not somebody like me”

“you are a princess in my eyes”

you can’t help the endearing look that crosses over your face as you lightly tap his nose, “you know that is not how it works”

“then we can run away. for i am already as good as dead to my kingdom,” he tells you with boyish determination

“you cannot, mingi. your people need a good prince”

“but what prince would i be if i cannot even boldly love you? the person who is dearest to me?”

under his sincere gaze and the weight of his words, you allow him this moment of solace

because perhaps, you want it just as much as he does

“okay, i’ll be your princess,” you breathe out

“forever?”

“forever”

that night, it is just you and mingi - no titles that separate your world from his, no looming threat of death - just two people in love

even as an uneasy pit settles at the bottom of mingi’s stomach, a growing feeling that gnaws away at him into the early hours of the next morning

he is startled awake, your expression frightened, and he immediately understands when he hears the thunderous chorus of hooves hitting the ground towards you two

mingi had known there was not much time left, but he did not think that the inevitable confrontation would happen this soon, only mere hours after the soft kiss he had pressed against your forehead

the desperate attempt to escape once more is futile, the royal guards closing the distance within minutes

left with no choice but to stop, you and mingi demount and the guards move to flank you both in a wide semicircle

when the head of the guards, prince eun, saunters forward, mingi matches with a stride of his own so that he can step in front of you

“you killed the crown prince, eun,” mingi spits at his brother

“running and denying your actions up until your very last moments, i see,” prince eun laughs condescendingly. “and you even took a little dog with you, too”

mingi presses you closer to his back, hiding you from the leering gaze of his brother

prince eun smiles smugly at mingi’s reaction, before he takes out a scroll and unravels it

“for high treason of the assassination of the crown prince, the king hereby decrees the immediate revocation of nobility of his third son, song mingi, and for the execution of song mingi and his maid upon sighting.”

you press your nose into mingi’s back, taking one last inhale of his familiar scent

the bowmen all take aim as prince eun sneers, “any last words, brother?”

mingi turns around, and all you can see in that moment are his warm eyes and dimpled cheeks

“i love you, my princess,” he proclaims

“forever,” you reply

he brings his lips down to connect them with yours, drowning out the distinct vibration of loosening strings and the hiss of flying arrows with the roaring symphony in your hearts

you’re unsure what pain swallows you whole first - the pain as an arrowhead sinks into your chest, or the pain as you realise that this is the end of your short-lived love with mingi

you struggle to keep the smile on your face as you lock eyes with mingi, trying to memorise the loving gaze that adorns his own face

you see his mouth moving, but the pain exploding throughout your body is too loud for you to make out his words

with your last breath, you gasp out your final confession, “i love you too, mingi. we’ll meet again in the next life”

as the world starts to fade away, cold creeping into your limbs, you hope that in another story, in another lifetime, you and mingi will be able to find each other again

wooyoung

pov: you're the princess of a rival kingdom

“absolutely not, advisor lee,” your mother raises her nose in the air

“your highness, i understand but-”

“oh please, do not flatter yourself, queen cho,” queen jung spits out, “you are not the only one who abhors the idea”

you glare at the prince sitting across from you, your own gazes reflecting the tension in the room

advisor lee has suggested that your family and the jung family host a joint royal ball as a grand display of amity between the two neighbouring kingdoms, particularly between the princess - yourself - and their prince - prince wooyoung

there have been spreading rumours in town of the strained relationship between the two royal families

which aren’t entirely untrue

as a child, the two kingdoms have been loyal and steadfast in their alliance and friendship

in fact, it is not uncommon to find you joining prince wooyoung in his kitchen, begging the chefs to let you two lick the spoons

or to find prince wooyoung squatting next to you in your garden as you both look at the ladybugs

but as power imbalances emerge and political agendas start to diverge, a wedge is driven between your families

the relation is now dangerously close to severing completely, but not without the increasing attention of the towns surrounding the two kingdoms

and one of the last things both royal families need is unease and disunity amongst the commoners

which brings advisor lee to look on with exasperation as he tries to do his job - advise

except neither your mother nor queen jung look ready to accept his advice

your father nods slightly at the two of you, “you are dismissed, as are you, prince wooyoung”

you curtsy as the prince takes a slight bow, before you obnoxiously flick your hair over your shoulder and turn away on your heels

you escape to the garden, knowing that the meeting will take at least another hour before you are required to bid the jung family farewell

except, surprise surprise

who do you run into

you narrow your eyes at prince wooyoung as he steps towards you, who has one eyebrow quirked, “a royal ball, he says?”

“absolutely not,” you fold your arms across your chest

“oh please, do not flatter yourself, princess,” he sneers, not dissimilar to the nasally tone his mother had voiced her dissatisfaction earlier with

neither of you back down, daring the other to say something else

before you two break out into giggles, eyes glittering scandalously

“did you see your mother deliberately pass the salt instead of sugar for the tea?”

“and then the face my mother made when she took a sip of it-”

he pulls you to crouch behind an azalea bush as you both chortle like children, out of sight, before he brings you in for a dizzying kiss 

you sigh, resting a hand on his chest

“do you also abhor the idea of dancing with me, prince wooyoung?” a teasing lilt in your voice

“absolutely,” he nods grimly, “why go to all that effort when there is a much grander and longer-lasting solution?”

“and what is that, my prince?”

he sneaks another chaste kiss from your lips, “for me to take your hand in marriage, my princess”

at his words, your smile dampens

“you know that i would say yes in a heartbeat. it is not i who needs convincing, but our parents”

because despite the growing hostility between your two families, the relationship you share with wooyoung has, ironically, blossomed into one of well-concealed adoration, intimacy and love

you two have come to learn that that one slightly lighter stone on the western side of your kingdom’s outer walls comes loose, and is the perfect size for slipping a piece of paper behind it

you two have also come to learn that every fourth week, if you ask your personal tutor enough questions about the plants laid out on the store’s table in front of you during your scheduled lesson in town, you’ll be able to drag it out long enough for you both to just catch a glimpse of each other as he and his escorts cut through the town on their way back to his kingdom

and of course, you two have come to learn the most isolated spots in your own respective kingdoms, like the second stairwell leading down to the cellar in wooyoung’s palace

and amongst the azalea bushes in the back garden in yours

which is exactly how you knew that he would appear, how you knew that he would give you those sweet kisses you have been craving so desperately 

as wooyoung cups your jaw to kiss you once more, one that leaves you wanting to chase his lips forever, he bets you that it’ll only take two weeks of close-quarter meetings between your royal families before one of your mothers blow up and the ball idea falls through completely

in response, you bet him that they won’t even last two weeks - one at the most

except you’re both wrong

the meeting turns into two, followed by several more as the planning goes ahead

sometimes, the meetings are held in the jung palace

other times, their family journeys to your kingdom instead

one thing that stays constant is the malevolence in the air

the parents are sarcastic snipes and saccharine smiles

and on the surface, you and wooyoung are further extensions of your own parents’ simmering loathing for the other

but under the intricately-carved wooden table, you two are playing footsies, jeweled heels and leather shoes engaged in a playful fight

you see how many times you can slide your heels up along his shin, gradually inching closer towards his inner thigh with each coquettish touch

he has you pass him anything and everything under the guise of forgoing the help of the numerous royal butlers and maids around the room to deliberately irritate you

really, it is to accidentally brush his fingers over your hands; to see the pretty shade of rose that settles over your cheeks and ears as you both try not to break out into giggles

and perhaps, during the meals that may take place during the meetings, there have been a couple of peas flicked at each other here and there when no one is paying attention

(unbeknownst to you two, the maids and butlers alike must hide their own endearing smiles)

the weeks turn into months and you practically have a permanent glow radiating from you, now that you have been seeing the prince so frequently

(which also does not go unnoticed)

as you select a necklace from the assortment of choices to emphasise the plunging neckline of your off-shoulder gown, you wonder how the day of the royal ball has arrived so quickly

your personal maid, jihye, carefully fixes the clasp of the necklace around you before stepping back to let you look in the mirror

you smooth a hand over the soft lavender charmeuse of your dress, nervously looking at jihye

“how do i look?”

“stunning, my princess,” she assures you, before adding, “prince wooyoung will definitely love it”

“prin- he- what? i- sorry?” you say unintelligibly, before you try to salvage the situation by tucking a lock of hair behind your ear as you laugh her off

but jihye just looks at you knowingly

meanwhile, prince wooyoung is already at the grand hall, the jung family having arrived two days prior for the final preparations of the ball

he and his friends, princes from kingdoms located further up north and towards the east, are lingering around one of the tables decorated with flower arrangements and elaborate candle holders, ignoring the longing glances of other attendees, women and men alike, thrown at their striking posse

wooyoung is trying to keep his gaze subtle, scanning the vast number of people at the ball without craning or turning his head, searching for one particular face

yours

prince yeosang nudges the others, jerking his chin to motion towards the distracted wooyoung

when wooyoung finally realises he isn’t as subtle as he thinks, all his friends are already looking at him with varying degrees of smirks

“just know that if there were not so many people here,” wooyoung begins with a pleasant smile, “i would flip you all off right now”

before he can try stepping on his friends’ toes in the form of petty revenge, prince seonghwa points towards the entrance as his smile grows impossibly wider

“look”

wooyoung turns around

and like any typical man who is head over heels in love, the world around him slows down

the gushing whispers spreading throughout the ballroom fade into the background

because finally, there you are, gracefully stepping past the threshold of the arched doorway in all your alluring beauty, accentuated by the way your curled locks and flowing gown frame your body

for the briefest moment, you lock eyes with him, and wooyoung feels his brain shutting down on him

“you’re going to catch a fly in your mouth, woo”

“pick up your jaw. it’s on the ground”

prince yunho pretends to dab wooyoung’s mouth with the ruffled sleeves of his cream shirt, “you’re drooling, darling”

at that, wooyoung smacks his lips dazedly before coming to a moment of realisation, blinking hard twice to bring himself back to reality

“god, you’re hopeless. just go up and talk to her,” prince hongjoong snickers. “the whole point of this ball is to show off how ‘close’ your families are anyway”

wooyoung grumbles that he knows, he’s just looking for the right timing

which, unfortunately, does not seem to come

you spend what feels like the next two hours being whisked around, feigning polite interest as you are forced to engage in dull and bland conversations with numerous men of differing royal statuses, all of whom are no doubt trying to make an impression on you in hopes of becoming a potential suitor in the future

not that you have eyes for anyone apart from the one who already has your heart

the very same person who is currently fed up with watching you converse and let your hands be kissed by men who are not him

even if he knows you are pretending, he thinks that you sure are damn good at giggling at all the right times

you are trying not to let your smile turn into a grimace as the older-aged man, lord ryu you think, boasts of his wealth to you, when wooyoung enters your peripheral vision

“princess, lord ryu,” he greets you both, before looking down at the latter, “pardon me as i take the princess for a dance”

lord ryu, visibly irked but unable to say anything to the prince of significantly higher status, lets go of your hand to step back into a bow, “of course, prince wooyoung”

you giggle, this time genuinely, as wooyoung takes your hand to gently lead you towards the center of the ballroom, where several others are starting to waltz to the soft music that is now playing

you rest a hand just below his shoulder, feeling the sturdiness of his muscles flexing beneath his shirt, as he places his other hand to settle on the dip of your waist

a little possessively, you might add

“you look beautiful today,” he murmurs lowly, away from any prying ears

“only today?” you quirk an eyebrow teasingly

his voice drops down an octave, “well it’s not every day that i can tell you, princess”

wooyoung’s eyes flicker down hungrily to look at your lips

you run your tongue slowly over your bottom lip, knowing it will drive him absolutely crazy that he cannot just take you right there and then in front of everybody

and you can see the moment his resolve snaps

“meet me for some fresh air in ten,” bringing his lips as close to the shell of your ear as he dares

and then he’s gone

you become progressively antsy as you wait out a generous amount of time after he leaves for you to also slip away from the ballroom

wooyoung pins you against a pillar as soon as you emerge in the garden, aching to kiss you and fight for dominance until you’re both breathless and light-headed

“you don’t know how desperately i wanted to kiss you in front of everyone - let the whole world know that you’re mine,” he nips at your bottom lip

you rest your hands on his chest, fingers curled around the pleated front of his satin shirt to hold yourself steady as he turns your lips into an artwork of swollen cherry reds

he tilts your head back a little more, your mouths moving in tandem, soft moans drawn out of you, when-

“what in god’s name is going on?”

you and wooyoung startle apart at the shriek

the blush dusting your faces pale almost immediately at the sight of not just your mother, but also queen jung and a few of the royal staff

it’s kind of amusing that of all things for the two queens to have the same mindset about, it is the discovery of you and wooyoung’s secret relationship that unites them, both sharing twin expressions of horror and revulsion

you’re ripped from each other’s arms as you are forced back into the confines of your bed chamber, royal ball long forgotten

your only solace is learned later that night, when jihye brings a trolley of food you have no appetite for, that the jung family have not yet returned to their kingdom

they are still in your palace somewhere

yet that does little to soothe your tears, overwhelmed by the drastic turn of events, and you do not know when you fall asleep that night

all you know is that it is to a bed too cold and a longing in your heart too gaping to ignore

“princess,” you look up to see jihye standing at your door the next morning, almost apologetic, “the king and queen request for your presence in the throne room”

as you approach the room after tidying your appearance, your breath hitches when you spot him just by the double doors

you barrel forwards into his waiting arms, uncaring of the staff following behind you

not that they have the heart to stop you either way

“i thought you would have been forced to leave,” you blurt, unable to believe that wooyoung is right in front of you

“i’m still here,” he chuckles. “i have been summoned by your parents”

your heart drops down to your stomach at his words as you realise what this meeting is about

“and i am glad they did, princess,” wooyoung is quick to interject before your apology makes it past the tip of your tongue. “i am going to ask for your hand in marriage. officially”

“what if they banish us from ever seeing each other again?” worry overwhelms you as your breathing quickens

wooyoung gently laces his fingers through yours, bringing up his other hand to cup your face and run his thumb comfortingly over the curve of your cheekbone to keep you grounded

“no matter what happens today, no matter what the outcome is,” he looks at you with the fierce determination of a man ready to give up anything and everything for your sake, “i will never ever stop fighting for you”

he presses his soft lips against yours

“for us,” he vows

your breathing evens out, and while your heartbeat still pounds inside your ribcage, you know that it marches in rhythm with the man in front of you

this time, not afraid to appear in front of the rulers of your kingdoms - your parents - you and wooyoung nod in reassurance at each other once more, hand in hand, before you both push the doors to the throne room open

together.

jongho

pov: you're under his protection as your royal guard

over the din of volunteered names in the meeting room, jongho steps forward

“your majesty, i will accompany the princess,” he declares

“choi jongho?” your father scans him up and down with regard before nodding in approval, “it is decided then”

“him? surely i need another person with me as well?” you protest

your father quirks an eyebrow at you, a subtle reminder that whilst he is your father, he is also the king

“no, you will need to travel in disguise and stay as discreet as possible. only jongho will accompany you as your royal guard”

your father looks away and starts to address the next item on the meeting agenda; it is quite clear there is no room for argument

meanwhile, jongho sidles up to you

“you trying to catch bugs or something? close your mouth, princess,” he teases under his breath

you nudge him with an elbow, “you’re the only bug i see around here”

he rolls his eyes but you both snicker in unison when one of your older sisters turns around to shush you with a dirty look

regardless, you stay silent for the rest of the meeting

you’re not sure why jongho stepped forward to take on this task

because for someone who is your main royal guard and is supposed to be loyal and obedient, he sure makes it clear that his job is about as gratifying as babysitting

(“you can’t talk to me like that. i’m the princess”)

(“no, you’re not. you’re an idiot”)

in fact, when you had been notified a few days prior that you would be traveling with one other royal guard - who had yet to be decided at the time - jongho had spent every single day gloating that he would finally get a break from babysitting you

and yet here he is

with the opportunity to hand you off to somebody else

but instead, baring his teeth at the other guards who offer themselves up for this scouting mission

he would never admit to it either, but jongho personally spoke to the king years ago about being rostered on as your main bodyguard since he’s “known the princess for the longest and so i can protect her the best”

you don’t want to travel to the border

you’re in charge of maintaining security and defense along your borders and with neighbouring kingdoms, usually dealing with complications remotely through the ministers and advisors who work for you

this time though, there has been recent unrest near the southern borders of your kingdom near denport, a city notorious for bandits and fugitives

the situation has worsened with increased risk of bloodshed, thus has the need for you to survey the borders in person

and as the youngest sibling of five, the king has made it very clear that this is your opportunity to prove your capabilities

jongho makes sure to remind you of this fact when you grumble your way through packing a satchel of essential items to take with you

(“your fluffy slippers are not essential, princess”)

(you listen and throw them back onto the floor of your bedchambers, but stuff in a few paperweights when he isn’t looking out of petty revenge because you know he’ll end up carrying your bag for you later when you ask him to)

it’s a relatively long journey to denport, so as soon as you are ready, jongho having long finished packing his own bag, you leave your kingdom with him at your side

by the time the sun is starting to set later that day, you’re passing through a small town

he suggests calling it a night and recuperating at one of the inns

you wait while he inquires about available rooms and then follow him through a small alleyway to the inn that he has chosen for the night

you take all but one look at the rotting wood and creaking sign at the entrance before you are crossing your arms like a petulant child

“there’s no way i’m staying the night in this sorry excuse of an inn”

he merely blinks

“you’re technically not the princess right now so you better listen to me or god help me, i’ll-”

“you’ll what,” you challenge, nose-to-nose

or nose-to-throat, you suppose

but before you can dwell any further on your height difference, jongho picks you up, slings you over his shoulder like you are nothing more than a sack of potatoes, and walks into the inn without a care in the world that you are screaming bloody murder

you resign to your fate and flop uselessly against his back as he carries you up the stairs

instead, when he throws you onto the bed upon entering the room, you look up at him sultrily and smirk, “ooh, now i’m turned on”

jongho shakes his head with exasperation but you don’t miss the redness that is creeping up the back of his neck as he turns around to close the door shut

“wait,” you sit up on the bed, “we’re sharing a room?”

“it’s safer. i’ll sleep on the sofa”

you scrunch your nose at the arrangement, but you do admittedly feel a little more at ease in the unfamiliar room of the inn

you start to take a shoe off before a thought flits through your mind and you point the shoe in your hand at him like a weapon, “you better not snore”

jongho rolls his eyes as he steps forward to take the shoe out of your hand, and then he is bending down to help slip off the shoe from your other foot

a thank you lies on the tip of your tongue

“you’re the only snorer in this room, princess”

nevermind.

it’s gone.

you’re settled in bed, waiting for jongho to finish washing up and turn off the lights, when you spot it

holy shit

your immediate reaction is to seek his protection

“jongho!”

the door to the bathroom swings open almost immediately as he rushes out, eyes alarmed, alert, and zeroing onto you

water drips off the ends of his hair and you can still spot suds on his exposed torso

“what’s wrong? are you okay? are you hurt?” his voice is laced with restrained panic

you point to the corner of the room and then he sees it too

his body stiffens completely

because, mere metres from the two of you, presence sinister and dangerous…

is a fucking spider

all is quiet and still for a while, your eyes flickering back and forth between your royal guard and the spider in a tense standoff

then, just as you are about to speak up, jongho grabs his bag and swiftly turns on his heels to head towards the room’s door

“where are you going?!” you shriek

he looks at you forlornly from over his shoulder, “to prepare for my execution”

“what the fuck are you on about, jongho?”

“for abandoning my duties and failing to protect you. farewell, princess. you are on your own from here-”

his sentence is cut short as the spider scuttles towards him

and that is how you two, disguised, but still a royal princess and royal guard no less, are given an eviction warning because he streaked through the corridors of the inn half naked and screaming at the top of his lungs

needless to say, the innkeeper ends up having to remove the spider for the two of you

“you’re so embarrassing,” you whisper to him once you two are finally settled in bed and on the sofa

“no, i’m jongho,” he cackles

you don’t humour him with a response, but you know he snickers himself to sleep that night

you can’t help but let the corner of your lips tug up as well

a few days later after leaving the town, you two are resting side by side against a tree trunk when you decide to grace jongho with the opportunity to redeem himself

he’s currently halving a sandwich so you two can share

“if i were trapped in a forest full of spiders and you were the only person who could save me,” you ask gravely, “what would you do?”

without missing a beat, he replies, “prepare to grieve your death and make sure your pet cat is well fed in your honour”

he passes you the bigger sandwich as you turn to look at him with the most scandalised expression

“can you at least pretend to think for a bit?” you grumble

there’s a hint of a smile on jongho’s face when he apologises, “okay, sorry. ask me again”

you hit him with a different scenario this time

“if you had to fight a giant spider who had taken me hostage, what would you do?”

he hums thoughtfully for a few seconds, unscrewing a canteen of water for you and placing it by your side

“i would say, she is all yours, your spidery majesty, and then i would bow and walk away”

“fuck you,” you shove him good-naturedly with your shoulder

he swipes the canteen before you can knock it over and presses it into your smaller hand instead, giving it a quick pat as he dismisses your insult, “sure, if you think you can handle my dick”

“like they say,” you waggle your eyebrows at him as your voice drops down lower, “practice makes perfect”

jongho’s stoic facade finally cracks when you lean in closer and he hurries to stand up and put some distance between you and him

he shifts his legs subtly, clearing his throat to say, “we should go, denport is close”

when you’ve finished off the last of your sandwich, you dust off your fingers and grab jongho’s offered hand to stand up too

“let’s go”

one thing you have both noticed is that the closer you get to the border between your kingdom and denport, the quieter and thicker the atmosphere seems to get

the small towns you pass through have less people roaming around; in fact, most people seem to flee back into the refuge of their own houses, locking their doors and closing their windows when they catch sight of your pair

and then it happens

your plan goes awry

you and jongho are harshly awoken by a commotion outside the small room you have rented for the night

there’s a sickening smell accompanied by wails of grief in the air

when you rush outside, all you can see is a huge crowd of people gathered and your ears strain to pick up on the broken hushes of information being thrown around

“his son is lucky to have been spared”

“lucky to have seen his father slaughtered by bandits?”

“i heard it wasn’t money that they were after, though”

“those damned denport devils are up to something”

that’s all you pick up on before jongho snatches your arm and leads you back into the inn, telling you that it’s too dangerous to be out there; too dangerous for you two to continue traveling

which leads to the very first argument you ever have with him

you two butt heads all the time with your own fiery fronts and hardheadedness but more often than not, he yields to you

you’re facing him in the dim room - it is shadier than that first inn you two made a stop at weeks ago, but you’re both sharing one room just like you two have done at every single inn since

“we need to go check it out!” you shout at him

jongho takes a shaky breath as he tries to keep his voice even, “no, we should go back to our kingdom, report on the situation and call for backup!”

you throw your hands up into the air, “we’re already here - we’re basically at denport! what if something blows up soon? it might be too late by the time we go back”

jongho steps in closer as his eyes narrow

you don’t cower because you know he would never hurt you, but you do step backwards because you don’t think you can keep a clear head when he is standing so close to you, proximity dizzying like the buzz of alcohol

“of all times for you to play hero and do something that you weren’t asked to, why now? why put yourself in danger?”

your back hits the wall as jongho corners you

your chest heaves, as does his, both of you overwhelmed with emotions

he holds your gaze but his eyes are rounded with agony and distress

you don’t understand why he is so against your decision

you don’t know what to say, until your eyes flicker down involuntarily at the movement of his lips parting to exhale-

“damn, jongho, your lips are real chapped. you should use some of my lip balm”

he blinks hard at the absurdity of what you chose to say

he looks at your lips

he makes a decision

“then give me some of yours,” he says, a little breathless

and then he’s pressing his chapped lips against your smooth ones, the taste of coconut filling your mouth as your lip balm smears

suddenly, he pulls back with the audacity to look shocked as if you are the one who kissed him

and then he leaves the room without another word

he doesn’t return that night and you don’t manage to sleep either

you wonder when you started becoming used to falling asleep with him in the same room

jongho clears his throat awkwardly when you open the door in the morning and find him leaning against the wall just by the doorframe

you’re not sure whether he came back not too long ago from god knows where, or whether he was actually standing guard outside all night

you think you know which one it is, even if he doesn’t confirm it

“we’re checking out,” he mumbles, shuffling briskly into the room to grab his few belongings he had left and exiting the room again with you trailing behind

neither of you say much more to each other

you think that he’s going to lead you back the way you two came, lead you back and undo the weeks’ worth of journeying and go back to the castle

but then he’s sighing, deep and burdened, and he gently takes your hand to continue on towards denport

he’s never held your hand before

not like this, at least, tenderly tugging you along with every step so that you are no more than a few inches away from his side

you want to bicker with him and chortle together like usual but you keep quiet, giving him the space that he appears to need even if he is physically ensuring you are tucked right into his side

you two walk until the sun has dipped below the horizon

from what you know, you are right along the southern border and denport will only be another half day’s walk away

jongho makes a small bonfire before he joins you to lean against a fallen log

he shimmies off his coat and drapes it over your legs and then the forest also settles into silence along with you both

it’s now or never

“why are you so against us going to the border?” you ask him

he runs his fingers through his hair

an unruly tuft of hair stays upright and you fold your arms to stop yourself from reaching out and smoothening it for him

he looks at you as he says, “i’m fine with me going to the border, it’s you i’m not fine with. you do remember that i’m your royal guard, right”

“is that all there is to your reason,” you push, “that you’re my guard?”

you both know you’re referring to more than just the argument itself

jongho’s gaze breaks away, looking ahead at the flames of the fire instead

he is silent

for once, jongho is unarmed; no immediate snark or teasing remark to toss back at you

you hear him swallow and take a breath

“i…i don’t know,” he starts. “all i know is that with each passing day, the more i want to keep you safe”

jongho looks at you again, eyebrows drawn down ever so slightly

“why do you make me feel so worried?”

at his words, your heart clenches in an unfamiliar way and you attempt to lighten the mood, “maybe you like me”

“maybe i do”

oh.

with the reflection of the fire dancing in his eyes, it almost looks as though he is about to cry

“please, don’t go to the border, princess,” he begs softly

his plea remains unwavering and you find your heart doing the exact opposite

after a few seconds of silence, you say

“okay, jongho. i won’t”

the tension from his shoulders seeps out and he gently tugs you towards him so he can tuck you into his side once again

“you promise that we turn around and go back tomorrow morning?”

you nod against the warmth of the crook of his neck, then murmur, “do you think father will be disappointed in me? for returning?”

he rubs a hand up and down your arm soothingly

“of course not, princess. you’ve already done so much more than you needed to. he’ll be proud of you”

and then he adds on, “just like i’m proud of you”

this is the first time anyone has ever really validated your efforts; being the youngest of a large family means you are often overshadowed

caught off guard, all you can do is whisper out, “thank you, jongho”

he hums and you feel his smile against the crown of your head

you’ve never been drunk before, but you think that this is the closest you have ever gotten

you are intoxicated by him

“if you’re thankful,” the rumble of jongho’s voice against your cheek is pleasant, “can i ask for something?”

“whatever you want”

he eases you from the comfort of his neck and tilts your chin up slightly with a finger, cheeky grin plastered across his face

“can i have some more of your lip balm?”

[written-in-flowers]

Their Pretty Lady: Masterlist

Pairing: Demonline x fem!reader | side pairings: demon!ateez x fem!reader

Genre: Heavy smut, angst and fluff MINORS DNI

AU: demon au, darkfic (in some parts)

Summary: YN has been in the hellish Inferno for seven years. After years of enslavement, she falls into the laps of Lords Seonghwa, Hongjoong and San. What seems to be a cushy position ends up being the key to her true identity.

Tags: listed in chapters, overall Christianity/religious themes, Dante's Divine Comedy inspired, demon!ateez, fem!reader, demon!reader (eventually).

Pretty Lady Playlist

Parts in Order:

Part 1: The Lady

Their Pretty Pet (demonline)

His Darling (demon!San)

His Kitten (demon!Seonghwa)

His Pet (demon!Hongjoong)

His Student (demon!Yeosang)

His Obsession (demon!Mingi)

His Mistress (demon!Jongho)

His Goddess (demon!yunho)

His Muse (demon!wooyoung)

Part 2: The Demons

Her Pretty Lords (demonline)

Her Lover (demon!Hongjoong)

Her Mate (demon!Seonghwa)

Her Soldier (demon!San)

Her Guardian (demon!Mingi)

The B-Sides

The Costume (demon!woosan)

[bvidzsoo]

texting fiancé!ateez about their Coachella performance as you weren't able to attend it

author: bvidzsoo

pairing: ot8 x reader

tw: cursing

genre: smau, reactions, idol!au, fiancé!au

a/n: well, I can 100% surely say Ateez wrecked all Atiny with their performance at Coachella today (or yesterday for some), and maybe this is my way of coping??? Will I be over it soon? Certainly not lol, when I catch you Song Mingi, you better have prepared yourself cuz I ain't ever again letting you out of the dungeon, sir. Let me know your thoughts, as always, I hope these are good enough and enjoyable. Thank you for checking it out! (divider)

⚞ Masterlist ⚟

↳Perm. taglist: @orshii @jjoongstar @tinyelfperson @thestarskiller @zuuhaaa @aaa-sia @sharksandminhos @gong-fourz

❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

[cocobeanncteez]

Ateez Choi San — Safe Habor

Genre: SMUT (mdni / 18+), angst, fluff, strangers to lovers au

Pairing: Attorney! San x CEO! Reader (fem)

Word Count: 22.5k

Warnings/content: divorce topics, reader is framed for drug possession and distribution, domestic violence by reader's ex (very brief scene), mentions of a failing marriage, lack of support from parents, please note that the reader's ex husband in this story is a random name I made up and so are other names in his story other than ateez, court battles, restraining order, reader gets arrested, driving under strong emotion, making out, breast play, dry humping, hand job, oral sec (f receiving) / cunnilingus, fingering, clit play, vaginal penetration, protected sex (pill), multiple orgasms, praising, pet names (sweetheart, baby), sorry if I missed anything else!

You stand in front of the large windows of your penthouse, gazing out at the city skyline. The lights from the buildings in the distance flicker like stars, but tonight they bring you no comfort like they usually did.

The weight on your shoulders has been growing heavier with each passing day, pressing down on you until it's nearly suffocating.

The argument you had with your husband, Baek Jaeyoon, echoed in your mind— his awful words were sharp, cutting, and so very dismissive. He’d once made you believe in the possibility of a partnership, a marriage of equals, but now you see it was an illusion, one carefully crafted by him and your family.

You never wanted to marry so early in the relationship, especially not for convenience, for business. But your family’s expectations were clear: Jaeyoon was the right choice, the only choice, a perfect match simply because his family was as wealthy as yours.

Sure, you liked him. You even dated him for a couple of months before your family said it’s time to get married. Yet, the more time passed, the more you realized you were just another asset in a long line of acquisitions for him. The love you once tried to cultivate has wilted away, leaving behind a barren landscape of resentment and pain.

Tonight, you finally admit it to yourself—after a year of being his wife, this marriage is over.

Your heart clenches with the thought, but there’s a quiet strength within you. The decision is terrifying, yes, but also liberating. You’re not just doing this for yourself; you’re doing it to reclaim the life you’ve lost in the process.

You’re Y/N— the CEO of one of the biggest furniture companies in the nation, Saturn & Co. — a woman who has built her career and reputation on her own terms. You’ve faced hostile takeovers and boardroom battle. Surely, you can handle this.

But you know you’ll need help, someone who can guide you through the legal labyrinth that awaits. You first think of Hongjoong, your longtime friend, a friend you've known all your life.

Hongjoong comes from a lawyer family that has been in this field for generations. His father was a very reputed attorney, now retired, who helped many wealthy clients win their legal battles. His father became friends with your father during their college days and are still very close to this day, so it's no surprise that you and Hongjoong became great friends too. He’s always been there when you needed him, and now, more than ever, you need his expertise.

With a deep breath, you turn away from the window and reach for your phone, dialing his number.

After three rings, he answers your call. "It's almost eleven. Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Well, hello to you too, Joong," you chuckle, "Why are you still up?"

"Ah, I'm just going over some documents for a high profile case," he explains, "What's up? All okay? You never call this late."

You take a deep breath. "I... this might sound crazy or stupid, but I want to get a divorce."

There was silence on the other end for a brief moment before he said, "It's not crazy or stupid. Have you thought this through completely?"

"I have," you answer with a sigh, "You know how my parents are. They will throw a huge tantrum and threaten to disown me as usual." Hongjoong hums at that. "But Joong, I just can't live with Jaeyoon anymore. He's not the same person. We're always fighting, and he's always saying the most hurtful, disrespectful things to me."

Truthfully, Hongjoong never liked your husband. He always thought Jaeyoon seemed too short-tempered and controlling. However, you seemed to be happy initially, or at least that's what you showed the outside world, so Hongjoong never commented on it, especially since it wasn't his place to do so. But he did hint at it once or twice. Once your parents got involved, he knew what the outcome would be, and he only hoped you would fight back and make the right decision.

"Have you considered couple's therapy?" Hongjoong asked.

"I did, and I brought it up to him. He got extremely upset, said there's nothing wrong with him, that I'm the problem and I need therapy, and I should be grateful that he even chose to marry me."

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. "That stuck up asshole. He thinks quite highly of himself."

The rest of the conversation with Hongjoong is brief but comforting. He listens to your concerns without any judgment, his voice steady and reassuring while he gives his legal input.

“Divorce isn't my area of specialty, you know that. But my friend, a fellow attorney in my firm, Choi San, is one of the greatest attorneys I've ever seen. He’s worked on many cases similar to yours and has a great record,” Hongjoong says, “He’ll make sure you’re taken care of, Y/N. You have nothing to worry about.”

But worry is exactly what you feel. Not about the process, but about what comes after. The unknown stretches before you, vast and intimidating. Still, you’ve made your choice. And for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re the one in control.

The next day, you find yourself walking into Hongjoong’s law firm, a sleek, modern building with glass walls and minimalist decor. The receptionist greets you with a warm smile, and soon you’re being escorted to a private conference room. You wished Hongjoong was here, but he was in an important meeting with one of his clients.

As you wait, blankly staring at a painting in the room, your mind races with questions. What will San be like? Will he understand the complexity of your situation, the nuances that come with being in a marriage like yours? What if he's an old man who thinks people should push through a dead marriage like your parents? It was so common for society to frown upon a divorced woman.

The door opens, and your thoughts scatter as a man steps inside. Is this an attorney or a model?

He’s quite tall, broad shoulders, siren eyes, dressed sharply in a black tailored suit, with an air of confidence that is immediately reassuring.

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you’re struck by the calm intensity in them. There’s a softness there, too, something that puts you at ease despite the circumstances.

But God, is he the most stunning man you've ever seen.

“Mrs. Baek,” he says, extending a hand. His voice is smooth, professional, but there’s a warmth in his tone that surprises you. “I’m Attorney Choi San, but please call me San. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You shake his hand, feeling the strength in his grip. “Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice, San. Please, call me Y/N, I'm trying to get rid of the 'Mrs. Baek' title," you joke, though it was true.

San chuckles and nods. “Of course, Y/N. Hongjoong spoke very highly of you.” He gestures to the chair across from you, and you both sit down.

"I understand you’re looking to proceed with a divorce," he says, taking a laptop out of his bag and setting in on the table before opening it. "Don't mind me, I just need to take notes of what you say so I can better understand how I can help you."

You nod, the words feeling heavy in your throat. “Yes. I… I want to make sure everything is handled properly. There’s a lot at stake, and I can’t afford any mistakes.”

San gives you a reassuring smile, and you notice he has dimples. You couldn't help but think that he was extremely charming. "Don't worry, Y/N. You're in safe hands," he says, "Now, how about you start by telling me about your marriage and what prompted you to seek divorce?"

You take a deep breath and look at him directly. “I never wanted to get married so early in the relationship. It wasn’t about love—it was about business, aligning our families. And I… I tried, but Jaeyoon… he’s not the man I thought he was. We dated for a couple of months, and he was genuinely really nice. But soon after we got married, he suddenly doesn’t respect me, and lately, it feels like he’s more interested in controlling me than being my partner.” San listens intently as you explained your situation. The more you talk, the more you notice the way he focuses on you, his attention unwavering even while he's typing on his laptop.

San nods when you finish speaking, his expression serious but understanding. “It sounds like you’ve been carrying this weight for a long time.”

“I have,” you admit, your voice softer. “I’ve always put my family and my company first, but I can’t keep doing that at the expense of my own happiness and mental peace. I want out, but I don’t want this to become a spectacle. My family… they’ll try to push back, and Jaeyoon’s family will make things difficult too.”

You continue to tell him more about your life, and he asks the right questions, probing gently but thoroughly, and it becomes clear that he understands the complexities of your life—the family expectations, the business implications, the emotional toll.

San leans forward slightly, his gaze steady on yours. “The first step is to file a petition for divorce. Since both of you are public figures, we can request that the details remain confidential to avoid any unnecessary media attention. We’ll also need to consider how any joint assets will be divided, as well as any potential claims from Jaeyoon regarding spousal support.”

As the meeting progresses, you feel a sense of relief washing over you. San’s approach is meticulous, but there’s also a kindness to him that you hadn’t expected. He’s not just treating this as another case; he’s treating you like a person, like someone who deserves to be heard and supported.

“What kind of timeline are we looking at?” you ask, a hint of anxiety creeping into your voice.

“It depends on a few factors,” San replies, his tone calm and reassuring. “If Jaeyoon agrees to the divorce and we can reach a settlement outside of court, it could be finalized in as little as six months. However, if he contests it, especially regarding asset division or other terms, it could take longer—potentially a year or more.” You frown, the thought of this dragging on for so long unsettling.

“And if it does go to court?”

“If it goes to court, we’ll be prepared,” San assures you with confidence. “I’ll work to ensure that your interests are protected. That means gathering all the necessary financial documents, assessing the value of shared assets, and if needed, preparing for depositions and hearings. I’ll handle the legal strategy, but I’ll also make sure you’re fully informed every step of the way.”

“What about my company? Saturn & Co. is my life’s work. I can’t afford for it to be affected by this.”

San’s expression softens slightly as he considers your concern. “We’ll make protecting your company a priority. Given that Saturn & Co. was established long before your marriage, we’ll argue that it should remain entirely under your control. But we’ll need to be thorough in documenting that your company assets and finances are distinct from any shared marital property.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Thank you, San. This is all so overwhelming.”

He gives you a small, encouraging smile. “That’s what I’m here for, Y/N. I’ll guide you through this process, and we’ll take it one step at a time. You’re not alone in this.”

By the time you leave the law firm, you’re still apprehensive about the future, but for the first time, you feel like you’re not facing it alone. And as you think back to the way San’s eyes softened when you spoke, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this won’t be as lonely as you feared.

2 months later

The familiar scent of Jaeyoon’s cologne hits you as soon as you step into the penthouse and hang your coat in the closet after a long day at work. The air is thick with tension, and you can feel the weight of the divorce papers in your bag like a lead anchor.

You mentally thanked San for being so quick to give you the documents. Since you had no kids with Jaeyoon, and your pre-nup was very straightforward about how any joint assets should be divided, San said your case wasn't very complicated.

In the 2 months of working with San, you have grown to take a liking towards him. He was kind and gentle towards you, and he always gave you his full attention when you spoke. When you went to Hongjoong's birthday party a month ago, you were delighted to see San there as well; that's when you got to know him in a non-professional way, and you genuinely thought he was the sweetest, most understanding man you had ever met.

Now, standing in your penthouse with the divorce papers in hand, you felt extremely anxious. You had rehearsed this moment countless times in your mind, but now that you’re here, every word you planned feels inadequate.

Jaeyoon is seated in the living room, scrolling through his phone, but he looks up as you enter. There’s an expectant look on his face, like he knows something’s coming. He's certainly no stranger to the way you’ve been acting these past two months, and he was often very angry when you refused to be intimate with him.

You steel yourself, trying to gather the courage you need. “Jaeyoon... We need to talk,” you say, your voice steady, though your heart is racing.

His brow furrows as he puts down his phone. “What’s this about, honey?” he asks, and you mentally cringe at the pet name.

You reach into your Dior tote bag and pull out the divorce papers, holding them out to him. For a moment, Jaeyoon just stares at them, as if he doesn’t understand. But then, slowly, he takes them from your hand.

He skims through the content of the top page. “What the hell is this?” His voice is low, almost calm, but you can hear the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“It’s what I should have done a long time ago,” you reply, trying to keep your voice from shaking. “I want a divorce, Jaeyoon. This marriage… it isn’t working.”

He flips through the papers, his expression darkening with each passing second. “You can’t be serious,” he finally says, his voice rising. “Do you have any idea what this will do? To us? To our families? To the business?”

“I’ve thought about it,” you say, standing your ground. “This is the only way forward for me. I can’t live like this anymore.”

Jaeyoon’s face twists with rage. “You ungrateful fucking—” He doesn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he slams the papers onto the coffee table, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me?”

“You didn’t do anything for me, Jaeyoon,” you say, your voice breaking. “You did it for yourself. For control. I’m not your possession. I tried to fix this marriage for months, but you refused to make any attempts to realize how horribly you’ve been treating me.”

Before you can react, he’s on his feet, his hand striking you across the face with a force that sends you reeling. The sting is sharp, but the shock is even sharper. You stumble back, your hand instinctively reaching for your cheek.

“Jaeyoon!” you cry out, but he’s already moving.

"I'll fucking kill you!" His eyes are wild, fury taking over as he grabs a nearby vase and hurls it at you. You barely have time to duck, and the vase smashes into the wall behind you, hitting your shoulder in the process before shattering into pieces on the floor. A sharp pain shoots through your shoulder, but you force yourself to stay on your feet.

Your breath comes in short, panicked gasps as you stare at the broken remains of the vase, the reality of what just happened crashing down on you. This is no longer just about a failed marriage—this is about your safety, your life.

Without another word, you turn and run out of the penthouse, the door slamming behind you. You don’t stop until you’re in the elevator hastily pressing the button for the parking garage, your body shaking uncontrollably. You were glad your bag was still with you and had all the stuff you needed— your phone, wallet, and keys.

As soon as you reach the parking garage, you make your way to your car. You unlock it with your keys and quickly lock yourself in. You realized you ran out in your house slippers when it's freezing outside, but that was the least of your concerns right now.

You needed to get out of here.

You switched your car engine on and put your seat belt on, ignoring the pain in your shoulder. Tears blur your vision as you fumble for your phone, and before you know it, you’ve dialed San’s number. While his phone rang, you moved the gear selector in your car to drive, and you wasted no time in pressing on the accelerator, leaving the garage and the gates of the apartment building.

Your phone was connected to your car, and San's soft voice was heard. "Hello?"

"San…" Your voice is barely a whisper, choked with sobs. "Sannie, I..."

“Y/N? What happened?” His voice is immediately alert, concerned. The sound of your car's indicator alerted him further. “Where are you? Are you in a car?”

“I… I’m driving. I can’t… I don’t know what to do…” Your words tumble out in a rush, your mind spinning.

"Y/N, tell me where you are. It's not safe for you to drive under strong emotion. Please pull over, I'll come get you."

"He... he hit me," you cried, ignoring San's words. "I left... I'm driving and I don't... I don't know where I'm going, but—"

"Sweetheart, please," San begs, and the sudden nickname makes your heart burst, and you find yourself calming down a bit. "Please pull over. It's not safe. Please."

And you finally listen to him. "Okay," you murmur, taking a deep breath. You make a turn into what seems to be the parking lot of a hospital. You parked in the first slot you could find. "I... I stopped."

"Okay, what do you see around you?" San asks, and you can hear some muffling in his background.

"A hospital," you say, glancing around from your car for the name of it. "Geumgang Asan hospital."

San lets out a breath in relief. "You're actually right by my apartment," he says, and you hear a door close in his background.

"Which apartment?" You ask, voice still shaky.

"Raemian Caelitus," he answers, "Stay right there. I’m coming to get you. Don’t move, okay? I’ll be there in a few minutes. Which car are you in?"

You don't respond to San. Instead, you put your car in drive and head for his apartment complex, doing the complete opposite of what he told you to do.

"Y/N?"

"I'm almost there," you say to him.

San groans. "Y/N... It's—"

"I know, I know," you chuckle, "but it takes less than two minutes by car. Besides, I'm already here." You pull up to the apartment gates, rolling your window down to speak to the security. He took down your name and number before opening the gates for you.

You drove to the guest parking lot and parked there, waiting for San to get to you. You slump against the car seat, your tears falling freely now. The numbness starts to set in, and you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to hold the pieces of yourself together.

It feels like an eternity, but in reality, it’s only a minute or two before there's a knock on your car window. You grab your bag and keys, getting out of your car. The cold night air feels chilly against your tear-streaked face. You’re still trembling; the shock of what happened earlier was refusing to release its grip on you.

San doesn’t say a word—he just pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he could shield you from everything that just happened.

You break down completely, sobbing into his chest, and he just holds you, his hand gently stroking your hair. “It’s okay,” he murmurs softly. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

When you started shivering, San noticed that you weren't wearing a coat, and your feet were only covered with your house slippers. He immediately takes his coat off and wraps it around you before picking you up bridal-style, wasting no time in making his way back to his apartment.

Once you reach the warmth of San's apartment, he sets you down on his couch. His actions made you sob more as you were touched by the way he treated you. He continued to hold you in his arms, trying to control the anger he felt at seeing the faint handprint mark on your cheek.

After a while, when your sobs start to quiet, San gently tilts your chin up to look at him. His eyes are filled with worry, but there’s also a fierce determination there. “We’re going to make sure he never hurts you again,” he says firmly.

You nod, unable to find the words, but the way San looks at you—so protective, so caring—gives you some strength. You feel like you’re moving toward something better, something that’s just for you.

The two of you sit in silence for a while. You tried to gather your thoughts, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions.

Eventually, he speaks, his voice gentle but serious. "Y/N... do you want to talk about it?"

You take a deep breath. "I gave him the divorce papers... he didn't take it well. Everything happened so fast. He slapped me, and then he threw a vase at me."

He cupped your face with one hand, gently stroking your cheek, a look of worry in his eyes. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

You knew your shoulder was definitely bruised, and you could still feel the dull ache. But you didn't want to tell San that.

"No... I'm okay," you lied. "Jaeyoon said he would kill me when he threw the vase. I left right after that." You noticed the way San's jaw clenched.

“Y/N, what that dickhead did tonight is beyond unacceptable. We need to take steps to make sure you’re safe. I think we should file for a restraining order against him.”

You glance at him, fear creeping back into your mind. “But… there’s no proof. It’s just my word against his.”

San nods, understanding the concern. “I know it feels like an uphill battle, but your testimony is important. The court can issue a restraining order if it believes there’s a credible threat, even without physical evidence. Your account of what happened, combined with the details of your marriage and the pattern of controlling behavior, can be enough to convince the judge.”

You hesitate, the thought of facing Jaeyoon in court, of reliving the nightmare, filling you with dread. “What if they don’t believe me? What if… what if this makes everything worse?”

San reaches over, gently squeezing your hand. “I’ll be with you every step of the way, Y/N. Not just as your lawyer, but as someone you can trust, someone you can count on," he says, and you felt butterflies in your stomach. "We’ll present your case as clearly and thoroughly as possible. We can also gather any supporting evidence like records of past arguments, any messages or emails that show his controlling behavior. Even if we don’t have a video or physical proof, your word carries weight, Y/N.”

His reassurance steadies you somewhat, and you nod slowly, deep in thought while blankly staring at the numerous law books on his bookshelf.

And then it hit you.

Video proof.

You turn to San with a hopeful look in your eyes. "I just realized, we have cameras in the living room. And this whole thing happened there, too. The footage should be on the app on my phone."

San's eyes widened, and a huge smile spread across his face. "This is perfect, Y/N! This would be more than enough to get the restraining order, as well as settle the divorce without having to go to court. Once we show him that we have evidence of his violence, there's no way he would fight back cause the court will most likely rule in your favor!"

You reach for your phone and unlock it, immediately opening the app. The footage gets saved in 30-minute intervals, and you were glad to see that it was still there and Jaeyoon had not deleted it yet. You downloaded the footage to have a copy of it on your phone. San requested that you send the footage to him as well so he could adjust the documents he wrote accordingly.

"Thank you, San," you say with a smile. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

He only smiled and stroked the back of your head. "Did you have dinner?" he asks, and you nod.

"Mhmm, I ate at work."

His face grew slightly serious when he noticed it was one hour to midnight. "Y/N, do you... want to stay the night here? I have a guest room. But if you're uncomfortable and you prefer a hotel or somewhere else, I can drive you. Whatever's most comfortable for you."

"I want to be here with you," you say in a soft tone, your words sending San's heart into a frenzy.

He nods and gets up. "Make yourself at home. Let me prepare the guest room a little bit first, okay? If you want to drink or eat something, the kitchen is all yours."

"Thanks, Sannie."

While San was busy setting up the guest room, you looked around the living room of his apartment. The decor was so simple and beautiful, and you noticed many pieces of furniture were actually made by your company. You loved how clean his apartment was, not even a pillow out of place. You noticed he had a giant boba tea plushie in the corner of the room, and you couldn't help but think San was so adorable.

"It's ready," he says, and you enter the guest room. You noticed there was a hoodie and a t-shirt neatly folded on the bed. San noticed you glancing at it. "I realized you don't have any clothes to sleep in. I didn't know if you preferred warm clothes or something more airy, so I got both. In the bathroom, there's a pack of spare toothbrushes in the cabinet. If you want to take a shower, I kept a smaller bathrobe for you and a towel."

You hug him tightly. "Seriously, thank you, Sannie."

"You don't have to thank me, Y/N," he murmurs, "Get some rest, hmm? I'll be in my room if you need me."

He turns to leave, but you grab his arm. "Wait..." you hesitate, "I... um..."

"Hmm?"

"Can you... can you perhaps... stay here with me, please?" You ask in a quiet tone, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Oh, um, I can if you want me to," he answers, his own cheeks turning pink. "Let me get ready for bed first, and then I'll join you, okay?"

You nod and he leaves the room to give you some privacy. You head into the bathroom to change out of your clothes and take a quick shower. You brushed your teeth and put some lip balm on. You chose to wear his t-shirt, which served as an oversized t-shirt for you. Taking a whiff of the t-shirt, you lightly hummed in delight, his scent of him making you feel some type of way.

When you exited the bathroom, San was already under the covers of the bed. He shyly pats the space beside him, and you slid under the covers with him.

San kept a bit of distance from you to not make you feel uncomfortable. You really appreciated that, but you wanted him to be closer.

Knowing the gentleman San is, you knew you had to speak up first.

"Can you... come closer?" You squeak out, slightly embarrassed. San chuckles and does as you say.

"Anything else?" he teases. You turn on your side so you're facing him, and the faint light from the nightlamp makes his skin glow somehow. San was so beautiful inside out. You were utterly mesmerized by him.

"Closer," you whisper. San moved closer to you, his head now on your pillow. You could feel his breath on your face and the warmth radiating from his body.

"Closer," you say again, looking between his eyes and his plump lips that were slightly parted. You reached for his arm and put it over your waist.

San understood what you wanted, but he restrained himself from giving in. "Y/N... what are you doing?" he murmurs, his hand placed softly on your back. His eyes were staring intensely into yours as if to see if you felt the same way as him in this moment.

"I want you to kiss me," you say, voice barely above a whisper.

San gulps, unsure of what to do. He wanted to kiss you, but he wasn't sure if you were really in the best mental state for that after what happened just a few hours ago.

You look at him, an expectant look on your face. You wouldn't have asked him to kiss you if you weren't confident that he felt something for you. You were not ignorant to the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, the way his eyes subtly roamed your body when you were in his office, the way he took a sharp inhale of your scent in a crowded elevator... but then you started to overthink.

What if he didn't want to kiss you?

What if all those signs weren't as deep as you think they are?

"I'm sorry," you say to him, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. "I didn't realize I was being too straightforward with this, and I understand if you don't want to kiss me. I should have—"

San placed his lips on you, shutting you up instantly. "There's nothing I want more than to kiss you," he mumbles against your lips, pulling you closer to him. "I just... don't want to put any pressure on you when you're in a vulnerable state."

You smiled against his lips, feeling touched by how considerate San was towards you.

And then you kissed him. His lips were so soft and warm while it molded with yours, and you couldn't help but feel relaxed while he kissed you back in such a soft manner, as if you were extremely delicate. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer, a small whimper leaving his lips when he feels your body flush against his.

You pull away first to catch your breath. You watch as San's eyes slowly open to look at you. There was a kind look in his eyes, one that screamed of adoration.

San lets out a little giggle when it hits him that the two of you really just kissed. He kisses your forehead and holds you in his arms while he tells you all the little things you did that made his heart flutter.

Eventually, sleep finds its way to both of you, the night ending in a warm embrace.

Two days later, you and San head to the courthouse, where he helps you file for the restraining order. The process is grueling, forcing you to recount the events of the night two days before, but San is there with you, guiding you through every step. His presence is a lifeline, his calm professionalism giving you the strength to face what lies ahead.

When the judge finally reviews your petition, you feel a knot in your stomach. But as San presents your case, emphasizing the danger you’re in and the need for protection, you see the judge’s expression soften.

After what feels like an eternity, the judge grants the temporary restraining order. It’s not permanent yet—there will need to be a hearing for that—but it’s a critical first step. For now, Jaeyoon is legally required to stay away from you, and any violation of that order could lead to serious consequences for him.

When you leave the courthouse, you feel a mixture of relief and lingering anxiety. But you also feel a small spark of hope—hope that, with San’s help, you might finally be able to take control of your life again.

You and San part ways to head to your respective workplaces, but he promises to see you after.

When you reach your office building, you're surprised to find your secretary waiting outside the doors of your office.

"Ms. Y/N," she starts, "Your parents are here, inside your office. I told them to wait outside, but they refused. They seemed to have found out about..."

You nod at her. "That's okay, Yena. Thanks for the heads up."

"You have a meeting in about ten minutes with the design team for the summer patio collection. I can postpone the meeting for you if you'd like."

"That won't be necessary," you say, "I'll be done in five minutes, hopefully. My parents... I know what to expect from them." Yena nods and wishes you luck.

You enter your office, shutting the doors behind you. You aren't surprised to see the rage on your parents face.

"Filing for divorce behind my back and getting a restraining order against your husband? What are you thinking?" Your mother says, a look of disappointment clear on her face.

You sigh. "Tell me, mom and dad, had I told you about it beforehand, would you have let me?" You say in a calm tone. "And that man is not my husband anymore."

"Y/N, you can not get a divorce. I forbid it," your father says in a strong tone. "You will bring utter shame to our family. I will not hesitate to take your name off my will."

You chuckle. "I don't care about your money, dad. I have my own company that I built on my own," you say, crossing your arms over your chest. "I will not live with a man that treats me like I'm inferior to him, a man that hits me and throws stuff at me."

"Jaeyoon was angry," your mother defends. "You betrayed him. He had every right to—"

"Every right to abuse me? Do you hear yourself right now?" you gave her an incredulous look. "Is your daughter's happiness and safety not more important to you than your image and connections?" You turn to look at your father. "You said I'll bring utter shame to our family, but tell me how? I'm not the one who abused him and treated him like shit for months!"

"Enough, Y/N!" your father raises his voice. "You will do as I say. You better withdraw your case. I will talk to your lawyer. I don't want to hear you talk of divorce again. I better see you in the penthouse tonight."

"My apologies, father, but I'm done listening to you," you firmly stand your ground.

"Don't make me disown you, Y/N. You married into a very good family, someone who matches your background and status in society."

"By all means, please do," you say with a scoff. "I'm not making sacrifices for your sake anymore. I have a meeting to attend, so please leave."

You turn away from your parents and walk to your desk. You sit down on your chair, and face away from your parents.

"You're an ungrateful brat," your mother spits before walking out of your office, your father grumpily following behind.

You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding as you slump down in your chair.

You loved your parents deeply, but you wished for once they would not care about money, power, and status, and start caring about the well-being of their child.

San sits at his desk, meticulously reviewing a file when the door to his office opens. He looks up to see your father standing in the doorway, his eyes hard and calculating. There’s no polite knock, no greeting—just an imposing presence.

San got up from his seat and bowed politely. “Mr. L/N, I wasn’t expecting you. What can I help you with today?”

Your father steps into the office, the door closing behind him with a quiet click. He doesn’t sit down, instead choosing to stand, towering over San’s desk.

"I came to discuss my daughter's case. This whole divorce nonsense. It’s a mistake, and it needs to be stopped," your father explains. His voice is firm, commanding.

San doesn’t flinch, meeting his gaze calmly while he took his seat. “With all due respect, Mr. L/N, that’s not something I can do. I represent your daughter’s best interests, and she’s made it clear she wants to proceed with the divorce.”

Your father narrows his eyes, leaning forward slightly, the temperature in the room seemingly dropping. “Perhaps you didn’t hear me, Mr. Choi. I said the divorce needs to be stopped. I’m here to make sure it doesn’t go any further.”

San remains seated, unbothered by the thinly veiled threat in the older man’s voice. He folds his hands on the desk, his expression composed. “Your daughter has the right to make her own choices, Mr. L/N. I’m here to ensure that her voice is heard and her rights are protected. I’m afraid I won’t be withdrawing from the case.”

The older man’s lips curl into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He takes a step back and places a briefcase on San’s desk. With a casual flick of his wrist, he opens it, revealing stacks of neatly arranged cash.

“125 million won. More than enough to make it worth your while to reconsider.”

San’s eyes briefly flicker to the briefcase before returning to the man in front of him. His expression doesn’t change. He slowly rises from his chair, closing the briefcase with a firm click.

“I’m not interested in your money, Mr. L/N. My commitment is to my client, your daughter, not to the highest bidder,” San says in a steady tone.

Your father’s eyes darken. He straightens, crossing his arms over his chest. “You might want to reconsider, Mr. Choi. You know who I am. I have powerful connections, and it wouldn’t take much to have you fired. You’re nothing more than an associate at this firm. Hongjoong and I go way back. One call from me, and you’ll be out of a job.”

San’s jaw tightens, but he keeps his cool. He steps around the desk, standing toe to toe with your father. “You’re free to make that call, Mr. L/N. But I’ll tell you right now that it won’t change anything. My integrity and my client’s well-being come first. I won’t be bullied into backing down.”

For a moment, the two men stand in silence, the tension thick between them. Then your father lets out a low chuckle, though it’s devoid of warmth. “You’re a fool, Mr. Choi. But I’ll leave you with this warning. Cross me, and you’ll regret it. You’ll wish you’d taken the money.”

The door shuts behind him with a heavy thud. San stands in the now-silent office, his eyes lingering on the closed door for a moment. He exhales slowly, tension easing from his shoulders as he returns to his desk.

San’s thoughts drift briefly to you and the storm that might be heading your way. But he steels himself, ready for whatever comes next. His loyalty to you and his belief in doing what’s right will not be shaken. Besides, he had enough trust in Hongjoong to know his friend would never listen to your father either.

Hongjoong sits at his desk, engrossed in reviewing a case, when the door to his office swings open with a heavy push. He looks up to see your father striding in without so much as a knock. His face is a mask of anger, but there’s something more—disappointment, perhaps, or even hurt.

Hongjoong straightens up immediately, his surprise giving way to a faint smile of recognition. “Uncle, I wasn’t expecting you to stop by.”

Your father's jaw tightens at the familiar greeting, and he waves off the formality with a sharp motion. He stands in the middle of the room, eyes piercing as he regards Hongjoong with a mixture of affection and frustration.

Your father starts, “Hongjoong, what is this mess with Y/N?”

Hongjoong sighs inwardly but keeps his composure. He gestures to the chair across from his desk. “Please, sit down. Let’s talk.”

Your father shakes his head. “I’m not here to chat. I’m here because of this nonsense with your associate, Choi San. You’re letting him destroy my family. You’ve known Y/N since she was born, Joong. How can you allow this to happen?”

The use of his childhood name stirs something in Hongjoong—a reminder that this man was more than just a powerful businessman. He had watched Hongjoong grow up, had been at family dinners, birthdays, celebrations. But Hongjoong keeps his professional mask on, aware that this conversation would require careful navigation.

Hongjoong softly says, “Uncle, you know I care about Y/N. I’ve always looked out for her, and I’m doing that now.”

“By letting her divorce her husband? By letting her throw away everything we’ve built? This will ruin her—and us!” your father says, his voice rising.

Hongjoong’s face hardens slightly. He motions again to the chair. “Please, Uncle. Let’s sit down and talk about this.”

Reluctantly, your father takes the offered seat, but not without a huff of frustration. He looks at Hongjoong, his gaze heavy with expectation. “You need to fire that attorney of yours. He’s putting ideas in Y/N’s head—encouraging her to throw away a good marriage. You can’t let this happen.”

Hongjoong takes a deep breath, knowing this was coming. His voice remains calm, though his loyalty to both San and you runs deep. “I won’t do that, Uncle. San is a brilliant attorney and one of my closest friends. More than that, he’s doing exactly what Y/N needs. He’s protecting her.”

Your father leans forward, his tone sharp, “Protecting her? From what? Jaeyoon’s a good man. He’s just been under stress! Y/N’s exaggerating the situation.”

Hongjoong’s eyes narrow slightly, a rare flash of anger crossing his usually composed face. “This isn’t an exaggeration, Uncle. Jaeyoon’s hurt her—physically, emotionally. I’ve seen the bruises myself from when he threw a vase at her. And he’s threatened her life too.”

Your father’s expression falters for just a moment, but he quickly covers it with a shake of his head. “Y/N’s always been dramatic. She’s too sensitive. Jaeyoon would never do that.”

“This isn’t drama, Uncle. This is abuse. You’ve known me my entire life, so you know I wouldn’t say this lightly. If you don’t believe me, ask Y/N yourself. Or better yet, spend one minute in a room with her and see the fear in her eyes.”

There’s a long pause as your father processes Hongjoong’s words. He looks down, his hands clenched tightly in his lap. For the first time, doubt flickers across his face, but his pride keeps him from showing it openly. “She’s my daughter, Hongjoong. I’m doing what’s best for her.”

Hongjoong softens slightly, his tone more compassionate, “I know you love her, Uncle. But what’s best for her isn’t keeping her in a marriage that’s tearing her apart. You want to protect her? Then let her go. Let her break free from Jaeyoon and start fresh. She deserves that much.”

The room falls silent again. Your father looks away, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation has taken. He’s used to being in control, used to getting his way, and now he’s faced with a situation that no amount of power or money can fix.

“I don’t like this, Hongjoong. Not one bit,” your father says in a quiet tone.

Hongjoong nods. “I understand. But forcing her to stay will only make things worse.”

Your father finally looks up, his voice filled with resignation, “I’ll think about what you’ve said. But don’t think I’ll just sit by and let this happen.”

Hongjoong watches as the older man slowly rises from the chair, his movements less confident than when he first entered the room. As he walks to the door, he hesitates, turning back to look at Hongjoong with a mixture of frustration and something almost like vulnerability. “You’ve grown up well, Hongjoong. I’ve always been proud of you. But I hope you’re not making a mistake.”

“Thank you, Uncle. But I believe in what I’m doing. I believe in protecting Y/N.”

With a final nod, your father turns and leaves the office, the door closing quietly behind him. Hongjoong sits back down at his desk, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. He exhales slowly, his thoughts turning to you, hoping that your father will see reason before it’s too late.

3 weeks later

You sit at the head of the long glass table, eyes focused as one of your top designers presents the new luxury patio collection. The conference room buzzes with the energy of innovation—your team is passionate, and it shows in the careful detailing of the furniture designs displayed on the digital screens along the walls. Teak wood, sleek metal accents, and eco-friendly materials come together in sophisticated harmony.

“We’ve incorporated the latest trends in sustainable materials, aiming to appeal to clients who prioritize both style and environmental responsibility. The durability will be a key selling point for the summer collection,” the chief designer explains.

You nod, your fingers drumming lightly on the surface of your notebook. Despite being from a wealthy family, you’ve built Saturn & Co. from the ground up, and you’ve learned to balance creativity with practicality. Your mind is already analyzing the numbers—thinking about production costs, price points, and the narrative you want to craft around this collection.

“I like the direction, but we need to ensure the pricing reflects the exclusivity. This is a luxury line, and our clientele expects something unique. Let’s look at limited editions to build that exclusivity,” you voice your opinion.

Your team exchanges glances, taking notes as you speak. You look at the marketing head next. “We need to start the marketing campaign as soon as possible. I want a narrative that ties back to our brand’s legacy, something that shows we’re not just following trends but leading them.”

As you discuss the campaign, the atmosphere in the room is abruptly shattered by the sound of raised voices outside the glass doors. Your brow furrows in confusion as you glance toward the commotion. Before you can react, the doors swing open, and several uniformed officers from the Korean National Police barge into the conference room.

The room goes still, everyone frozen in place.

The officer in charge looks directly at you. “Ms. L/N, you are under arrest for illegal possession and distribution of narcotics. Please stand and come with us.”

You feel the words hit you like a physical blow. The room spins for a moment, and your breath catches in your throat. You blink, trying to comprehend what’s happening. Your colleagues stare at you in shocked silence, their faces a mixture of confusion and concern.

“There must be a mistake,” you say, absolutely stunned at the accusation. Your voice feels distant, barely your own. The officer takes a step closer, his expression hard and unyielding. Two other officers flank you, moving into position as if expecting resistance.

“We have a warrant for your arrest. You have the right to remain silent.”

Everything feels surreal, as though you’ve been dropped into someone else’s life. This can’t be happening. You’ve never been involved with drugs—this is absurd. You shake your head, your voice stronger now. “I’m innocent. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

The officers ignore your protests as they take you by the arms, pulling you to your feet. You glance around the table, your team frozen in disbelief. Your head of security moves toward you but is stopped by the officers, who block his path.

As you’re led out of the conference room, your heart pounds in your chest. Fear mixes with disbelief, but you force yourself to stay calm. You don’t know how this happened, but you’re determined to fight it.

The walk through the Saturn & Co. building feels endless. Employees stop in their tracks, staring as you pass by, whispers rising in your wake. Your cheeks burn with the humiliation of it all, but you lift your chin and keep your expression calm, refusing to show any weakness.

Outside the building, a crowd has already gathered, cameras flashing in your face. You can barely hear the shouting reporters over the thrum of your own thoughts. As you’re escorted into the waiting police car, you can’t help but wonder—who could have done this? And why?

Your first thought was your ex-husband. Well, you still weren't legally divorced yet. But you had a gut feeling that it was him.

The door slams shut behind you, and as the car pulls away from the building, the reality of the situation begins to sink in. Your life is about to be turned upside down, and you know exactly who you need to call: San. He’ll help you. He has to. Right?

Its been a while since you saw San as he was busy handling back-to-back cases and traveling to meet clients and witnesses. You also bought a new apartment and were busy moving and unpacking your stuff, so you didn't have much time to meet up with him either.

Once you reached the station, you were thrown into an interrogation room. The cold, sterile room is a stark contrast to the familiar warmth of your office. The walls are bare, the fluorescent lights overhead casting a harsh, clinical glow. You sit at a metal table, your hands resting in front of you. Despite the fear bubbling up inside you, you keep your back straight, refusing to show the panic you feel beneath the surface.

You’ve been here for hours now. The officers had taken your personal belongings, leaving you feeling exposed and disconnected from the outside world. The initial booking process was a blur of fingerprinting, photographs, and paperwork. Now, it’s just you and the suffocating silence of the interrogation room.

The door creaks open, and two officers step inside. One of them, a senior detective, takes the seat across from you while the other leans against the wall, arms crossed. You can feel their eyes on you, studying your every move, waiting for any sign of weakness.

“Mrs. Baek... or should I say, Ms. L/N? The public may not know everything, but we certainly do. Now, do you know why you’re here?”

You look at him, your heartbeat thudding in your ears. You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m innocent. I don’t know why I’ve been brought here. This has to be a mistake.”

The detective leans back in his chair, pulling out a manila folder and flipping it open. He slides a few photographs across the table toward you. You glance down at them—images of plastic bags filled with pills and powder, some stashed in a high-end handbag that looks disturbingly similar to one you own. “These drugs were found in your possession. We have evidence linking you to a drug-selling operation. Do you care to explain?”

Your stomach drops, and your hands instinctively clench into fists in your lap. You shake your head, staring at the images as though they might change if you blink hard enough.

“That’s not mine. I don’t know how those drugs got there. I’ve never been involved in anything like this. I swear,” you say.

The detective raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your denial. He taps one of the photos with his finger. “This was found in your car, Ms. L/N. Are you telling me someone planted these drugs without your knowledge?”

Your mind races. You remember parking your car that morning—everything was normal. But nothing makes sense now. You feel trapped, caught in a nightmare where you don’t know the rules.

“I don’t know how it got there. I’ve never seen those drugs before in my life, neither do I do drugs. I can do a drug test to prove that.”

The detective exchanges a glance with the other officer, who remains silent but watches you carefully. He leans forward, as if to intimidate you. “Ms. L/N, the evidence is stacked against you. Your fingerprints were found on the packaging of the bag. We were secretly searching for those involved in drug distribution of this very drug, a drug that can only fall in the hands of someone with a lot of money and influence.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your fingerprints? You struggle to breathe evenly, trying to understand how this could be happening. “That’s impossible. I’m not involved in any of this. Someone has set me up.”

The detective doesn’t blink. He looks at you as though you’re a puzzle he’s trying to solve, but you can tell he doesn’t believe you. “This is your chance to come clean, Ms. L/N. The sooner you cooperate, the better this will go for you. Tell us who you’ve been working with, and maybe we can work something out.”

You shake your head, frustration and fear mixing into a potent cocktail in your chest. Your voice rises slightly, despite your efforts to stay calm. “I’m not involved in any drug operation. I don’t know who’s behind this, but it’s not me.”

The detective leans back, his expression hardening. He closes the folder and taps it lightly against the table before standing up. “I’ve heard it all before. You’re looking at serious charges here, Ms. L/N. You might want to think about your next steps carefully.”

As he leaves the room, the door shuts with a heavy click, leaving you alone once again. You drop your head into your hands, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of your chest.

How did this happen? Who could possibly want to destroy you like this? The questions whirl through your mind, but there are no answers. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself of what you know to be true. You’ve done nothing wrong. You just need to hold on, stay strong, and prove your innocence.

A knock sounds at the door, and it opens again. This time, it’s a different officer—one who escorts you back to a holding cell. They’ve told you a lawyer is on the way, and that thought alone keeps you from unraveling completely.

You pray that it’s San. He’ll know what to do. He’ll fight for you. But even as you cling to that hope, the uncertainty gnaws at you. You’ve never felt so powerless in your life.

San steps out of the courtroom, the echo of his client’s relieved voice still ringing in his ears. He had just secured another victory—an ironclad defense that left the opposition scrambling. His confidence is high as he buttons his suit jacket, his mind already shifting to the next case on his docket.

Just as he’s about to push through the heavy glass doors of the courthouse, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Glancing down, he sees Hongjoong’s name flashing on the screen. He frowns slightly, knowing Hongjoong was out of the city at the moment, but he swipes to answer.

"Hongjoong hyung," San answers in a cheerful tone, "You’re catching me right after a big win. What’s up?"

There’s a brief pause on the other end, and when Hongjoong speaks, his voice is tight, serious. “San, we’ve got a really fucked up situation. It’s about Y/N.”

San’s heart skips a beat at the mention of your name. His hand tightens around his phone, and the world around him seems to blur for a moment.

“What happened? Is she okay?” San asks, concern evident in his voice.

"No. She’s not. She was arrested earlier today," Hongjoong says grimly. "I just spoke to her father. Her parents aren't going to see her until this mess is sorted out. She has basically no one to support her now other than us."

San stops dead in his tracks, his stomach plummeting. People brush past him in the courthouse lobby, but he’s completely still, his mind racing. “Arrested? For what?”

“Drug possession and distribution. The police found drugs in her car, but it’s clear she’s been framed. It’s all over the news now—photos, headlines, everything. I’m in Gwangju meeting with some clients now as you know, and I can’t get back to Seoul until tomorrow morning. I need you to handle this for me. I thought of representing her myself, but she needs an attorney as soon as possible. Please represent her.”

San’s chest tightens with a mix of disbelief and anger. He can already see how this might play out—the media will have a field day, and your reputation will be dragged through the mud. “Of course, I’ll handle it. I’ll go to the station right away.”

There’s another pause, this time longer. San can almost hear Hongjoong’s hesitation through the phone. “I trust you with this, San. I know you’ll fight for her like I would… maybe more.”

San’s breath catches. He stares at the floor for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. “What are you getting at, hyung?”

Hongjoong’s tone shifts, a little lighter despite the gravity of the situation. “I know how you feel about her, she's like a sister to me. I’ve known for a while now, Sannie. You care about her, and not just as her attorney.”

San’s mind reels. He’s always kept his feelings for you carefully hidden, even from Hongjoong. But it’s clear now that his friend has seen through him “It’s not something I planned, hyung.”

"I didn’t say you did," he says gently, "but maybe this is a chance to show her how much you care. Not as an attorney, but as someone who’s willing to stand by her through the worst of it."

San runs a hand through his hair, conflicted. His stronger feelings for you have always lingered just beneath the surface, a quiet undercurrent to the professional relationship you’ve shared during your divorce proceedings. But now, as you’re facing this crisis, he knows those feelings are about to come to the forefront, whether he’s ready or not.

It's not like you don't know of his feelings after sharing a steamy kiss on his bed. You just didn't know that his feelings for you were stronger than what he showed.

“Right now, I’m her attorney. That’s what matters. I’ll get her out of this mess first,” San says in a firm tone.

Hongjoong chuckles softly, “You’re a good man, San. I’m glad she has you in her corner. I’ll be back tomorrow to help however I can, but for now, please take care of her. And be careful—the media’s already circling like vultures.”

San nods, even though Hongjoong can’t see him. His mind is already spinning with what needs to be done: pulling strings, calling in favors, and working to get you released as soon as possible. But beneath all that, a deeper urgency thrums inside him—an overwhelming need to protect you, to be there for you, not just as an attorney but as someone who deeply cares about you.

“Don’t worry, Hongjoong hyung. I won’t let her down.”

Hongjoong hums. “I know you won’t. Keep me updated, and I’ll be there first thing tomorrow.”

The call ends, and San slips his phone back into his pocket. He stands there for a moment, staring blankly at the glass doors in front of him. His pulse quickens, and he shakes off the lingering shock. You need him now more than ever, and there’s no time to waste.

He steps outside into the late afternoon sun, his mind already focused on his next move. As much as this case will test him professionally, San knows it will also test him personally. And for you, he’s willing to face whatever comes next.

With determination in his step, San gets into his car, heading straight for the police station. There’s no way he’ll let you go through this alone.

You sit on a hard bench in the holding area, your hands clasped tightly together, the events of the last few hours playing over and over in your mind like a bad dream. You still can’t wrap your head around it. Arrested. Framed. And now, sitting here, waiting for something—anything—that will prove your innocence.

The door to the holding area swings open, and you look up instinctively, hope sparking in your chest.

And then you see him— Choi San.

His maroon suit jacket is slightly wrinkled from his hurried movements, his face a mix of worry and determination as he strides toward you.

For a moment, you can’t move, your breath catching in your throat. Relief floods through you as he approaches, his eyes softening as they meet yours.

San frowns, yet his expression was gentle. “Y/N…”

He kneels down in front of you, his presence grounding you in this moment, even though your world feels like it’s spinning out of control. His voice is low, calm, and it soothes the chaotic mess of your thoughts.

"San… I didn’t do this. I swear," you say in a trembling voice. "I don’t know how—"

He holds up a hand, his expression steady and resolute. “I know. I believe you, sweetheart.”

The simple statement, spoken with such certainty, nearly undoes you. You’ve been holding yourself together, refusing to cry, refusing to break—but the sheer relief of having someone believe you shakes you to your core. You take a deep breath, blinking back the tears that have been threatening to spill over.

“I don’t understand how this happened. Who would do this to me?” you mumble.

San glances around the room, ensuring no one else is too close, before leaning in slightly, his voice quieter but still firm. “That’s what we’re going to find out. But first, I’m getting you out of here. I’ve already spoken with the officers. There’s not enough evidence to support holding you overnight. You’ll be out soon, and we’ll start working on clearing your name.”

His confidence eases the tight knot of fear that has been sitting in your chest since the moment you were arrested. You nod slowly, feeling a flicker of hope. San has always been calm under pressure, and now, in the face of this disaster, his calm feels like a lifeline.

“Thank you, San. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

San smiles a little, his eyes never leaving yours. For a moment, something unreadable flickers in his gaze—something deeper than just professional obligation. He stands, offering you his hand to help you up. “You don’t have to go through this alone, Y/N. I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

You take his hand, letting him pull you up from the bench. For a moment, you just stand there, the weight of the day pressing down on you, but San’s hand in yours keeps you steady.

Just as he promised, within the next hour, he navigates the process with the officers, and the paperwork is completed. You’re released, but the gravity of the situation still hangs over you like a storm cloud.

As you step out into the cold evening air, San walks beside you, his hand hovering near your back, a silent but steady presence. The flashing lights of a few reporters’ cameras catch your eye, and your stomach churns with dread. The story is already out there, and now it’s not just the legal system you have to worry about—it’s the court of public opinion.

San leans in to whisper in your ear, “Ignore them. They don’t matter right now.”

You nod, swallowing the rising anxiety as you step toward San’s car, slipping into the passenger seat. Once you’re both inside, the weight of the day crashes down on you all at once.

San glances over at you as he starts the car, his voice gentle. “We’ll figure this out, Y/N. I promise.”

His words are meant to comfort, but you can hear the determination behind them. You trust him—more than anyone right now—and that trust is the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely.

"Can we... go to your place, please?" you say, voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course we can," San answers with a smile, his dimples showing.

The car pulls away from the station, the city lights blurring by outside the window. You don’t know what comes next, but with San by your side, you feel like maybe—just maybe—you’ll be able to get through this.

The exhaustion catches up to you and you fall asleep in San's car.

Once San parks in his designated spot, he's quick to put a face mask on you to ensure no one recognizes you while he takes you to his place. You were still deep asleep with a frown on your face, so San resorted to carrying you bridal-style to his apartment.

He tried to be very slow while placing you down on the bed in the guestroom, but the movement stirred you awake. When you open your eyes, San's face is just inches away from yours.

You sit up straight and hug him, the teers falling freely now. He warmly embraces you, telling you words of encouragement and how he'll be with you through it all.

While your sobs quieted down, San pulls away to look at you. "I'll make us some dinner, hmm? I'll take about half an hour. Is that okay?" he asks sweetly, his thumbs reaching to brush your tears away.

"Can I... be in the kitchen with you? I don't want to be alone," you murmur.

San leans in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Of course, sweetheart. You don't even have to ask." You smile lightly, your heart racing in a good way this time.

"Let's go now, hmm? I plan to make your favorite side-dishes!"

The courthouse is bustling with activity as people file in and out of courtrooms, their footsteps echoing off the marble floors. You sit beside San on a wooden bench outside the courtroom, waiting for your case to be called. You’re dressed professionally, trying to project the calm confidence that comes naturally to you in the boardroom, though inside you’re anything but calm.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you feel the weight of every glance thrown your way by people passing by. The gravity of the situation is suffocating, but San’s steady presence beside you keeps you grounded. He hasn’t left your side since this nightmare began, and for that, you’re grateful.

San leans closer, his voice low and reassuring, “Remember, this is just the arraignment. They’ll present the charges, and I’ll enter a plea on your behalf. After that, we’ll have time to prepare for the real battle. Stay calm, and let me do the talking.”

You nod, drawing a deep breath and trying to steady your nerves. San gives you a small, encouraging smile before standing as your case is called.

“The People versus Y/N L/N.” The bailiff calls out.

The words send a jolt through you, but you rise to your feet, following San into the courtroom. As you walk down the aisle, you catch sight of a few reporters lurking in the back rows, their cameras trained on you. It takes everything in you to keep your head high and your expression neutral as you approach the defense table.

The judge, a stern older woman with sharp eyes, sits at the bench, looking down over the courtroom. The prosecutor stands across from you, a tall man with a stack of folders in front of him, looking all too confident.

The judge glances at the paperwork in front of her. “This is the arraignment for Y/N L/N. Let’s proceed.”

The prosecutor steps forward first, clearing his throat. “Your Honor, the defendant has been charged with illegal possession of narcotics and distribution of a controlled substance. Given the amount found and the nature of the charges, the prosecution believes there is sufficient evidence to proceed with the case.”

The words hang in the air like a death sentence, but you stay quiet, your hands clasped tightly in your lap. You glance at San, who remains calm and collected, his focus razor-sharp. He rises to address the court, his voice steady.

"Your Honor," San starts, voice firm, "my client pleads not guilty to all charges."

The judge nods, making notes as San continues, his tone professional but determined. "We would also like to request that Ms. L/N remain free on bail while we prepare our defense. My client has fully cooperated with the investigation thus far and has strong ties to the community. She is not a flight risk, nor is she a danger to the public."

The prosecutor steps forward again, shaking his head. “Your Honor, given the severity of the charges, we believe that bail should be revoked. The defendant was found in possession of a substantial quantity of illegal narcotics. In fact, the police were in search of individuals tied to the distribution of this very drug. We consider her a significant flight risk, particularly given her financial resources.”

You swallow hard, anxiety tightening in your chest as the prosecutor speaks. You’ve never felt so vulnerable, so exposed. San’s hand brushes yours under the table, a small but comforting gesture, and you glance at him. His expression is calm, though his eyes flash with determination.

San stands up again. “Your Honor, my client is a respected CEO, one that is dearly loved by her employees, and has no prior criminal record. She has been falsely accused and fully intends to clear her name. She has no intention of fleeing and will cooperate with any conditions the court deems appropriate.”

The judge taps her pen against her desk thoughtfully before looking up. “Given the circumstances and the defendant’s lack of prior offenses, I will allow Ms. L/N to remain free on bail, provided she adheres to strict conditions. She will surrender her passport and be subject to regular check-ins with law enforcement. Any violation of these conditions will result in immediate incarceration.”

Relief washes over you, though it’s tempered by the reality that this is just the beginning. San nods respectfully to the judge, and you follow suit, standing as the judge dismisses the court.

As you turn to leave, you feel the weight of the reporters’ eyes on you once again. The camera flashes, the whispers—it all threatens to swallow you whole. But San places a reassuring hand on the small of your back as you walk out of the courtroom together, his presence steady and unwavering.

Outside, the fresh air hits you like a lifeline, and you take a deep breath, feeling some of the tension leave your body.

“You did great in there,” San says.

You give him a weak smile, though the anxiety still churns inside you. The legal battle is just beginning, and the road ahead looks long and treacherous.

“Thank you, San. For everything.”

He glances down at you, something soft and unspoken in his eyes, before giving you a nod.

“We’ll get through this. I promise,” he assures you.

With those words, you both walk toward his car, the future uncertain but no longer quite as overwhelming. You trust him, and for now, that’s enough.

2 days later

The rich, dark wood of Hongjoong’s office and the soft leather chairs normally evoke a sense of calm professionalism, but today the air is thick with tension.

You sit at the large table in the corner of his office, San beside you, his expression serious and focused. Across from you is Hongjoong, his brow furrowed in concentration, and to his right is Yeosang, a lawyer specialized in criminal law whom Hongjoong had brought in to help navigate this tangled mess.

Yeosang leans forward, flipping through the files spread out on the table, his sharp eyes scanning the details of your case with practiced ease. He seemed to be in deep thought. “We’re dealing with someone who knows what they’re doing. The drugs were placed in a high-traffic area—your car—and, more importantly, they had your fingerprints on them. It was deliberate for sure.”

You lean back in your chair, frustration and disbelief bubbling beneath your surface composure. “But how? How did they even get my fingerprints on the bags? I’ve never touched drugs in my life.”

Yeosang looks up at you, his expression calm and reassuring, though his mind is clearly racing through possibilities. “It’s not impossible to get your fingerprints on something without your knowledge. It could’ve been as simple as someone using an item of yours—a glass, a piece of paper, even a surface you touched—and transferring the prints to the bags. It’s not common, but it’s doable with the right resources.”

San’s hand tightens slightly on the table beside you, his jaw clenched. His eyes are sharp, focused on the bigger picture. “This wasn’t some random setup. Someone orchestrated this carefully. They knew exactly what they were doing. The question is—who benefits from framing Y/N?”

A heavy silence settles over the room as everyone exchanges glances. The answer hovers in the air, unspoken but undeniable.

“It has to be Jaeyoon,” Hongjoong voices out grimly.

You nod, the name sitting like a stone in your gut. The thought had crossed your mind more than once since this all started—your soon-to-be legally ex-husband, vindictive and controlling, would have the motive and the resources to pull something like this off. But even knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to accept.

“He’s been desperate to stop the divorce, but I refused to back down. He knows he’s losing his grip on me, and his family’s connections… they’d give him access to people who could do this.”

Hongjoong nods, his expression hardening with a protective edge. He’s known you and Jaeyoon long enough to have seen the warning signs, even if it took time for you to accept them yourself. “If Jaeyoon’s behind this, he’s playing a dangerous game. But we need proof. Right now, it’s all speculation.”

Yeosang taps his fingers lightly against the folder in front of him, deep in thought. “We’ll need to dig into Jaeyoon’s connections, his finances, and any third-party contacts he may have used. If we can find a trail—payments to people who could’ve planted the drugs, any suspicious transactions—we can start to build a case. Of course, we can't do that without a court order, so we would somehow have to bring him up to the court to be able to access his finances.”

San sits up straighter, his focus laser-sharp. “Speaking of finances, we went over Y/N’s financial records. They’re clean—no suspicious activity, no unexplained deposits or withdrawals. Whoever’s doing this wants to make it look like she’s running the operation without leaving any financial trail.”

Yeosang nods, impressed but not surprised. “That’s important. It gives us a baseline to work from—if there were any dirty money moving through your accounts, it would be much harder to prove your innocence.”

You feel a small sense of relief at that. At least that part of your life is still intact. But then the anxiety returns as the enormity of the situation sinks in. “So… what now? How do we prove that it wasn’t me?”

Yeosang leans forward again, his tone reassuring. “We focus on the weak points in their setup. The planted drugs, the lack of a financial trail, and the circumstantial nature of the evidence. We need to show the court that there’s reasonable doubt—and if we can link it back to Jaeyoon, we’ll turn this whole thing around.”

Hongjoong looks at you, his eyes softening slightly. “We’ll figure this out, Y/N. We just need to be smart about it. We’ll start looking into Jaeyoon’s connections and anything we can do legally without a court order. There has to be something—someone who can tie this back to him.”

San speaks up, his voice resolute. “I’ll coordinate with investigators and see what we can find. But we also need to be prepared for whatever Jaeyoon throws our way. He’s not going to back down easily if we were to bring him to court.”

You nod, your mind spinning with everything that’s been said. The pieces are slowly starting to come together, but there’s still so much uncertainty—so much at stake. You’ve always prided yourself on being strong, on keeping control of your life and your business, but now you feel like you’re navigating a minefield where every step could lead to disaster.

San looks at you, his gaze steady and unwavering. “You won’t be fighting alone. We’ve got your back.” You nod at him, a smile playing on your lips.

The room falls silent again, but this time there’s a sense of unity—of resolve. You’re facing an uphill battle, but you know you’re not facing it alone.

The door opened, and Jongho— an intern under San— stepped in, followed by your secretary, Yena. Their expressions were serious, and you immediately sensed that they had uncovered something important. Your pulse quickened as you turned to face them.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Jongho began, his voice careful and respectful, "but we found something that might be really important."

Yena stood next to him, her eyes flicking to yours. “We were reviewing the security footage from the office building, particularly your office since I'm the only one that has access besides you. We were checking to see if there was anything unusual that could explain how this whole situation began. And… well, something stood out.”

Jongho pulled out a tablet from the folder he was carrying and moved toward the table. Everyone in the room leaned in, curiosity and hope sparking through the air. San's focus sharpened as Jongho tapped the screen, pulling up the relevant footage.

“We found this clip,” Jongho explained, “It was taken the day before the police discovered the drugs. It shows an employee bringing two cream-colored bags to your office—bags with wood samples inside.”

You leaned closer to the screen, watching the semi-grainy security footage play out. There you were, sitting at your desk, while one of the employees approached, two nondescript bags in hand. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You accepted the bag, placed it on the desk, and resumed your work.

But then your eyes caught something unusual.

“He’s wearing gloves,” you muttered, the realization hitting you like a punch to the gut.

"Exactly," Jongho replied, his voice low but confident. "That’s what caught our attention. Wearing sterile gloves to deliver wood samples? That’s not standard."

Yeosang leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he focused on the details of the footage. "It’s certainly not typical. Most people don’t wear gloves unless they’re handling something delicate, hazardous, or… they don’t want their fingerprints on it."

San clenched his jaw beside you, his hand resting on the table as he processed the implications. "Who is this employee?" he asked Jongho and Yena, though his gaze stayed fixed on the screen.

Yena stepped forward. "I’ve seen him before—he works in logistics, occasionally helping with deliveries. I believe his name is Jang Yohan. But I’ve never seen him wear gloves like that. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but now… it feels off."

"It wasn’t just wood samples in that bag, was it?" you asked quietly, almost to yourself. The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth. "That’s how they did it. Whoever set me up had him plant the drugs in that bag—wearing gloves to avoid leaving his prints. My fingerprints are the only ones that would be found on it."

Yeosang leaned back in his chair, his mind clearly running through the possibilities. "It makes sense. They were careful—calculated. The gloves are the giveaway. It’s likely whoever hired him instructed him to use them for this exact reason."

San handed the tablet back to Jongho, a grim determination settling over his face. "This is exactly what we need to create doubt in the prosecution’s case," he said, his voice strong. "It doesn’t clear Y/N yet, but it raises serious questions about how the drugs ended up in her possession."

Hongjoong, who had been pacing while the video played, finally stopped to look at you. His eyes were intense but filled with that familiar protective instinct. "We need to trace this back to whoever orchestrated it," he said firmly. "If it’s Jaeyoon, we need proof. We need to dig into his finances, find out if he paid anyone off, and see who this employee is connected to. It’s the only way we’ll be able to prove that Y/N was framed."

You nodded, your heart hammering in your chest. A glimmer of hope began to break through the fog of anxiety. "Thank you," you said quietly to Jongho and Yena. "This could be the key we’ve been looking for."

Jongho offered a small, reassuring smile. "We’ll keep digging. There has to be more."

As they exited the room, the weight of the situation seemed a little lighter. You glanced at San, who was already gathering his thoughts for the next steps.

"This changes everything," he said softly, though there was an edge of fire in his voice. "We’re going to prove your innocence, Y/N. Whoever’s behind this isn’t going to get away with it."

For the first time in days, you felt a small measure of hope. It was far from over, but now you had something to fight with—a direction to move in.

The video footage had given you something solid—something that could cast doubt on the charges against you. Yet, the deeper question still gnawed at you: who was behind it all? Jaeyoon?

Hongjoong was already pacing again, his mind clearly racing, when he stopped abruptly and turned to you, San, and Yeosang.

“Y/N,” Hongjoong said, his voice sharper with a sudden realization. “That employee—the one who handed you the bag with the wood samples. What exactly did he say when he gave it to you?”

You frowned, trying to recall the details of that day. "He said he would come back later to collect the bag after I’d reviewed the samples. I didn’t think much of it at the time—just normal procedure."

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “And did he ever come back to get it?”

You nod your head. “Yes, I had it sitting on my desk to review it later as there was ample time before the deadline to approve it. He took it while I wasn't there. If I remember correctly, he told Yena that he mixed up the samples.”

San’s gaze snapped toward Hongjoong, who looked deep in thought. Slowly, Hongjoong walked back to his desk, picking up a photo that had been part of the evidence submitted by the prosecution. It was a picture of the drugs found in your car—specifically, the bags they had been placed in.

He stared at the picture for a long moment before grabbing a pen from his desk. Without a word, he drew a line across the image, right above a very noticeable purple mark on the bag. Then, he turned back to you.

“When you received the bag of wood samples,” Hongjoong began slowly, “did you notice anything unusual about it?”

Your mind raced back to that moment. It had been a normal day, and you were preoccupied with your work. But now, with the intensity of everything, you tried to remember.

“There was… a mark on one of the bags,” you said, furrowing your brow as the memory came into focus. “A black or purple ink mark.”

Hongjoong nodded, lifting the photograph up to eye level. "Look closely at this picture—the one of the drugs found in your car."

You leaned in, your eyes scanning the photo until they settled on the same purple mark that you’d just remembered. Your breath caught in your throat as the pieces began to fall into place.

“It’s the same bag,” San said, his voice tight with realization. “The exact same bag we see in the footage.”

Hongjoong nodded, his expression grim. “That employee came back for the bag because he wanted to switch out the wood samples for the drugs. The purple mark connects the bag found in your car with the one you were given in the office.”

Yeosang leaned forward, his fingers drumming against the table as his sharp mind began piecing it together. “This means whoever set this up planned it meticulously. They planted the drugs in the same bag that you’d innocently handled with the wood samples, ensuring your fingerprints were on it. When the police found it, there’d be no question—it would appear like you’d been in possession of it the entire time.”

You sank back in your chair, a mix of anger and disbelief coursing through you. “This was all calculated,” you murmured. “They knew exactly what they were doing.”

San’s face hardened, a new determination sparking in his eyes. "We have a direct link now. This bag connects the planted drugs to the employee who handed it to you. It’s evidence that can start to unravel their case against you."

Hongjoong crossed his arms, the gears of his mind turning. “If we can find out who this employee is connected to, we’ll have the leverage we need. I’m willing to bet everything that Jaeyoon is involved. We just need to follow the trail.”

Yeosang nodded in agreement. “The bag, the gloves, the purple mark... it’s all pointing toward a deliberate setup. We just need to dig deeper into the employee’s background, see who’s pulling the strings.”

San turned to you, his expression softer now but no less serious. "We’re getting closer, Y/N. This is the break we needed."

You met his gaze, feeling a flicker of hope return. It wasn’t over yet—not by a long shot—but with this new piece of evidence, you were finally beginning to see a way through the darkness.

-×-×-×-

2 weeks later

The courtroom was quieter this time, but the tension was even more palpable than before. You sat beside San at the defense table, your fingers gripping the edge of the chair. Across the aisle, the prosecutor shuffled through his papers, confident as ever. The employee—the one who had handed you the bags. Jang Yohan—was sitting at the witness stand, his eyes darting nervously around the room.

San was focused, calm, but you could feel the intensity radiating from him as he prepared to question the witness. Hongjoong sat a few rows behind you, his presence reassuring as always, while Yeosang was absent, working on other elements of the case. This was a critical moment, and everyone knew it.

The judge entered, and the room stood in unison. After the usual formalities, the hearing began. The prosecutor wasted no time presenting the case, confidently restating that the evidence was clear: you had been found in possession of illegal narcotics, your fingerprints were on the bags, and the prosecution would show that you were guilty of the charges.

Then it was time for San to present your defense. He stood slowly, his movements deliberate as he approached the judge.

"Your Honor," San began, his voice steady and commanding, "new evidence has come to light since our last hearing, which I believe will cast significant doubt on the charges against my client. We have footage that shows my client receiving the bags containing the drugs, but there’s more to it than that."

You couldn't help but find San extremely attractive. The way he carries himself, the way he speaks... focus, Y/N.

The judge’s eyes sharpened with interest. "Proceed, Mr. Choi."

San gestured toward the screen where the footage would be displayed. As the security video played, the room grew silent. You could see yourself sitting at your desk, accepting the bag from the employee. Everyone watched intently as the employee, conspicuously wearing sterile gloves, handed the bags over with care.

After the footage ended, San spoke again. "As you can see, the employee, Mr. Jang here, who delivered the bag at that time was wearing gloves. We found this suspicious, and upon further investigation, we discovered that the bag in question—both the one delivered in my client’s office and the one found in her car—has a unique identifying mark."

San held up a printed image of the bag, with the purple ink mark circled clearly in the photograph. "This very evident purple mark is present on both the bag from the footage and the one seized by the police. My client’s fingerprints were found on the bag because she handled it while inspecting wood samples," San explained. "We believe that Mr. Jang, under instruction, delivered the bag intentionally so that Ms. L/N's fingerprints would easily be all over it. We also have the footage of Mr. Jang coming back to Ms. L/N's office to get the bags hours later, wearing sterile gloves yet again. Additionally, a large chunk of footage was deleted from multiple viewpoints around the office building the same day Ms. L/N received the wood samples. The footage from Ms. L/N's office can only be accessed by Ms. L/N herself and her secretary."

The judge leaned forward, her eyes on the witness stand where the employee sat, clearly uncomfortable. "So you’re suggesting this employee, Mr. Jang, was complicit in planting the drugs, Mr. Choi?"

San nodded. "Yes, Your Honor. And we intend to prove it."

The judge turned her attention to the prosecutor, who frowned but nodded for the employee to be questioned.

San approached the witness stand, his gaze locking onto Mr. Jang, who was already shifting nervously in his seat. He started with a calm but pointed question. "Can you explain why you were wearing gloves when delivering the bag?"

Mr. Jang hesitated, his eyes flicking toward the prosecutor for support before returning to San. "I—I don’t really remember," he stammered. "It was a normal delivery."

San didn’t let up. "Is it normal for you to wear hospital-grade sterile gloves when handling wood samples that are already placed in a bag?"

Mr. Jang’s face flushed. "Not usually, no."

"Yet, on this particular occasion, you chose to wear gloves?" San pressed.

Jang Yohan fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable with the scrutiny. "I guess I—uh, I wasn’t thinking."

San’s expression remained cool as he continued. "Or were you instructed to wear them? Were you told to ensure your fingerprints weren’t left on the bag?"

His eyes widened, and you could see the panic starting to set in. "No, I wasn’t instructed—"

"Then how do you explain the purple mark on the bag?" San cut him off smoothly, pulling out another image of the bag found in your car, the mark clearly visible in both photos. "This is the same bag you delivered to my client, isn’t it?"

His lips pressed into a thin line. He glanced at the prosecutor again, but this time the prosecutor remained silent. His hesitation only deepened the growing suspicion in the room. "I don’t know," he muttered, avoiding eye contact.

San stepped closer, his tone still measured but carrying a steely edge. "You don’t know? Or you don’t want to say? Who instructed you to plant those drugs in Ms. L/N’s possession?"

The room was dead silent as everyone waited for his answer. The employee’s hands fidgeted in his lap, beads of sweat forming on his brow. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper. "No one… no one told me to plant anything." You inwardly sigh in utter frustration.

San took a step back, giving the employee a moment to breathe, but his eyes never left the man’s face. "You realize perjury is a serious crime, don’t you?"

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did. "Yes… yes, I know."

San nodded once, satisfied for now. He turned back to the judge. "Your Honor, this man’s refusal to provide a clear explanation, combined with the evidence of the identical bags and the suspicious nature of his actions, strongly suggests that someone instructed him to plant the drugs in Ms. L/N’s possession. We will continue to investigate this matter, but we believe this evidence raises significant doubt about my client’s involvement."

The judge glanced from San to the employee, her expression unreadable. "Mr. Choi, I agree that the evidence raises questions. We will continue to allow further investigation into this matter, but for now, we will adjourn until the next scheduled hearing. The court is dismissed."

You felt a small wave of relief wash over you as you heard the sound of the gavel. The case wasn’t over, not by a long shot, but you could see that San had managed to shift the momentum in your favor. As the courtroom slowly emptied, you turned to San, gratitude and hope mixing in your chest.

"Thank you," you whispered, knowing full well that without him, the situation would have looked far bleaker.

San gave you a small, reassuring smile. "We’re getting there, Y/N. Step by step."

-×-×-×-

2 days later

The café was quiet, the low hum of conversation and the clinking of coffee cups providing a subtle background noise. San and his bestfriend Wooyoung, a corporate lawyer, sat at a corner table, their eyes scanning the room as they waited.

Wooyoung adjusted his jacket casually, the tiny recording device hidden within the fabric. He leaned back in his chair, his expression calm and collected, while San checked the time on his phone.

A few minutes later, the café door swung open, and the employee, Mr. Jang Yohan—nervous, disheveled, and clearly rattled from the last court hearing—stepped inside. His eyes darted around anxiously before they landed on San and Wooyoung. With a deep breath, he approached the table, his steps hesitant.

"Mr. Choi," he greeted San with a shaky voice, "you wanted to speak with me?"

San nodded, gesturing to the chair across from him. "Yes, have a seat."

Jang Yohan glanced around once more before sitting down, his hands fidgeting on the table. Wooyoung remained silent, observing the man carefully, his expression unreadable.

San wasted no time. He leaned forward slightly, his voice calm but firm. "We know you’re involved in framing Y/N, but what we need now is the full story. Who ordered you to plant the drugs in her car?"

The employee swallowed hard, clearly nervous. His gaze shifted to Wooyoung, who gave him a polite but unreadable smile. The pressure was mounting, and it was clear that the employee was caught between fear and guilt.

"I—I've told you, no one ordered me to do anything," he stammered, his voice trembling.

Wooyoung, sensing the employee’s hesitation, leaned forward, his tone friendly but sharp. "Look, we’re not here to ruin your life. But if you don’t come clean, this is going to end badly for you. You don’t want to be the fall guy in this mess, do you?"

Jang Yohan blinked, his hands shaking slightly as he looked down at the table. His shoulders slumped under the weight of the situation.

"I… I was just following orders," he whispered finally, his voice barely audible.

San exchanged a quick glance with Wooyoung, sensing that they were finally breaking through.

"Whose orders?" San asked, his tone measured, giving the man space to speak without pressure.

He hesitated, his fingers tapping nervously on the table. He glanced around again, clearly afraid of being overheard. Wooyoung remained calm, his hand resting casually on the table, the recording device capturing every word.

"It was… Ms. L/N's mother-in-law," the employee said, his voice shaking. "She… she approached me. She told me to place the drugs in Y/N’s car. She said it was the only way to stop the divorce and protect their family. She said she would have my kids expelled from their schools if I didn't listen. She also paid me off, and I—I didn’t know what else to do... I worked very hard to put my two children in a decent school, and one of them in guitar lessons."

The air around the table seemed to freeze as the words hung there. San’s expression didn’t change, but inside, a surge of anger and determination flared. This was the confirmation they needed.

"Jaeyoon’s mother, Mrs. Baek," San repeated, his voice carefully controlled. "She orchestrated all of this?"

Jang Yohan nodded quickly, looking down at his lap as if ashamed of his role. "Yes. She said her son told her there were no security camera's in Ms. L/N's office so there was no way I would get caught. They told me to delete the other footage of me moving about the building. I never wanted to do this."

Wooyoung leaned back slightly, giving the employee a sympathetic look. "And now, here you are, being dragged into a legal mess that could ruin your life."

He nodded, his face pale. "I didn’t know it would go this far. I just… I just did what she asked. I was scared of my kids' lives getting ruined."

San leaned back as well, keeping his expression neutral. "Well, you’ve just confessed to a crime. But here’s the thing—we’re willing to help you. If you cooperate with us, we can protect you and get you out of this. Your kids will not be affected in any way. But you’ll need to testify in court. You’ll need to tell the truth."

Jang Yohan looked up, his eyes wide with fear but also relief. "You’ll… you’ll help me?"

Wooyoung nodded, offering a small smile. "We’ll make sure you’re protected. But you have to stick to the truth, no matter what happens."

He nodded quickly, looking like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "I’ll do it. I’ll tell the truth. I don’t want any more trouble. I just want a good life for my kids."

San and Wooyoung stood up, the deal made. As they left the café, Wooyoung adjusted his jacket again, the recording safely stored. The confession was all there, captured and ready to be used in court.

As they walked toward the car, San turned to Wooyoung, his expression relieved but still serious. "That was risky, but it worked."

Wooyoung grinned, patting his jacket lightly. "Sometimes a little pressure does wonders."

San nodded, his mind already moving to the next steps. This was the turning point they needed. The truth was finally coming to light, and now, with the employee’s confession and the evidence in hand, they could start dismantling the case against you.

-×-×-×-

1 week later

The courtroom buzzed with anticipation as people filled the seats, journalists whispering to one another and spectators craning their necks to get a better view of the proceedings.

You sat beside San, your pulse racing as you watched the judge take her seat. This was it—the moment where everything could finally come to light. San had been relentless, and now the confession that could clear your name was about to be delivered.

The employee who had played such a pivotal role in your framing sat nervously at the witness stand, fidgeting as the prosecutor paced in front of him. Across the room, you could see the prosecutor’s frustration—this wasn’t going to go the way they had hoped. San, calm and composed as ever, sat back in his chair, waiting for his moment.

After the preliminary questions from the prosecution, it was San’s turn. He stood up, buttoning his jacket before walking toward the witness stand, his presence commanding the room. Jang Yohan avoided eye contact, clearly uneasy but ready to confess what he had done.

San didn’t waste any time. He stopped directly in front of the witness stand and addressed the employee with a calm, measured voice. "You’ve already testified that you were the one who delivered the bag to Ms. L/N. Now, I want you to tell this court exactly what you told me. Who ordered you to place the drugs in her car?"

The courtroom fell silent, every eye on the employee. He glanced nervously toward the prosecutor before finally speaking.

"It was Mrs. Baek, Ms. L/N's mother-in-law," the employee admitted, his voice trembling. "She told me to do it. She… she said it was to stop the divorce, that if I didn’t help, her family would be ruined. She threatened to have my kids expelled from their school, and she paid me a lot of money, too."

Gasps rippled through the courtroom, and the judge raised a brow in interest. San continued, his expression neutral but firm.

"So, Ms. L/N's soon-to-be ex-husband's mother orchestrated the entire plan to frame Ms. L/N for drug possession and distribution?" San asked, his voice steady.

The employee nodded, his face pale. "Yes. She paid me to plant the drugs in Ms. L/N's car. I didn’t want to, but she… she said I had no choice. She promised I wouldn’t get in trouble if I helped her."

San turned to the judge, his tone shifting to one of firm conviction. "Your Honor, this confession clearly establishes that my client has been framed by her ex-in-law's family. This entire case against Ms. L/N has been a deliberate attempt to discredit her and force her into submission."

The judge’s gaze moved from San to the prosecutor, who looked visibly shaken by the turn of events. The entire courtroom felt the weight of what had just been revealed.

"I request," San continued, his voice growing stronger, "that the court issue a subpoena for the financial records of Mr. Baek Jaeyoon’s family. If this court examines their transactions, I am confident we will find evidence of payments made to individuals—perhaps even this very employee—proving that this was a calculated scheme to frame my client."

The judge looked thoughtful, leaning back in her chair. She glanced at the prosecutor, who was still recovering from the bombshell of the confession.

The prosecutor rose, clearly scrambling for control. "Your Honor, while the testimony is damning, we must be cautious about making broad accusations without hard evidence. There is no direct proof connecting the Baek family finances to any payments made in relation to this case."

San didn’t miss a beat. "That is precisely why I’m requesting access to their financial records. We have the employee’s confession, and now we need to follow the money trail. If Baek Jaeyoon’s mother orchestrated this, the payments will be there. This court needs to see the full picture before passing any judgment on my client."

The judge tapped her fingers lightly on the bench, her eyes shifting between the prosecutor and San. After a long moment, she spoke.

"Mr. Choi’s argument is compelling. Given the testimony we’ve just heard, I am inclined to allow the request for a financial investigation into the Baek family. The court will issue a subpoena for the necessary records, and a thorough examination will be conducted."

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The tension in the room eased slightly, but the stakes remained high. The judge nodded toward San, signaling that he had the floor.

"I also request, Your Honor," San added, "that the charges against Ms. L/N be dropped while pending the results of this investigation. With this new testimony, there is significant doubt about her involvement, and keeping her under suspicion serves no purpose."

The judge paused again, thinking it over, then turned back to the prosecutor. "Does the prosecution wish to oppose this request?"

The prosecutor, still reeling from the confession, reluctantly shook his head. "No, Your Honor. We will await the results of the investigation."

With a sharp rap of the gavel, the judge made her decision. "The court grants the request for a financial investigation into the Baek family and suspends the charges against Ms. L/N pending the outcome. This hearing is adjourned."

The courtroom buzzed with murmurs of excitement and shock as the judge exited. You let out a long breath, feeling lighter for the first time in what felt like forever. San turned to you, his expression softening as he met your eyes.

"We’re not done yet," he said quietly, "but we’re closer than we’ve ever been."

You nodded, relief and gratitude flooding through you. The truth was finally starting to emerge, and now, with the financial investigation underway, it was only a matter of time before the entire web of lies unraveled.

-×-×-×-

1 week later

The atmosphere in the courtroom was electric with anticipation. Journalists lined the back rows, cameras flashing as they caught glimpses of the key figures entering.

Jaeyoon and his family sat on one side of the room, their expressions tense and cold. Across from them, you sat with San, your heart pounding as the final pieces of the puzzle came together. This was the moment you had been waiting for—the culmination of everything you’d fought so hard for.

Your family, finally here to support you, sat behind you, their presence a welcome comfort in this fraught situation. They had never believed you before and hadn't supported you at all, but you couldn’t help but not care today. You felt good today.

The judge took her seat at the bench, her sharp eyes scanning the room as she called the court to order. The tension was palpable as the final hearing began. This time, Jaeyoon and his family were the ones on trial, and you could feel the shift in the room—the power dynamic was no longer against you.

San stood up, his movements calm and measured as he approached the bench. He held a folder in his hand, the evidence that would finally expose Jaeyoon and his family for their crimes.

"Your Honor," San began, his voice steady and commanding, "the financial records that were subpoenaed have revealed a deeply concerning pattern of illegal transactions made by Mr. Baek Jaeyoon and his family. Over the past several months, large sums of money have been wired from Mr. Baek Jaeyoon’s personal account to an influential politician, Yoon Daechul. These funds were used to facilitate the procurement of illegal narcotics, which were then planted in Ms. L/N’s possession as part of a scheme orchestrated by Mr. Baek’s mother."

A murmur rippled through the courtroom as San presented the financial records, each one showing the repeated wire transfers. The judge’s expression remained neutral, but there was a spark of interest in her eyes as she leaned forward to examine the documents.

San continued, his voice unwavering. "The money trail is clear—each payment corresponds with a significant political favor or action, all of which led to the acquisition and placement of the drugs. This politician acted as a middleman, using his connections to secure the narcotics that were used to frame my client. The Baek family attempted to cover their tracks, but the records don’t lie."

The judge turned her attention to the prosecutor, who looked visibly rattled by the developments. "Does the prosecution have anything to say regarding these findings?"

The prosecutor stood, his expression stiff as he shook his head. "No, Your Honor. The evidence speaks for itself."

The judge nodded, then turned her gaze to Jaeyoon and his family. "Mr. Baek, your financial records clearly show that you and your family engaged in illegal transactions with a known politician in exchange for narcotics. This court will not tolerate such blatant disregard for the law, nor will it allow innocent individuals to be wrongfully accused as a result of your actions."

Jaeyoon’s mother shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her once imperious demeanor now replaced by visible anxiety. Jaeyoon himself remained stoic, but there was no mistaking the tension in his clenched jaw and stiff shoulders.

San took a breath before continuing. "Your Honor, I also want to address the broader context of this case. Ms. L/N and Mr. Baek Jaeyoon were once married, but their relationship took a dark turn. Ms. L/N sought a divorce after enduring emotional and physical harm at the hands of Mr. Baek. The situation escalated to such a degree that Ms. L/N was forced to file for a restraining order to protect herself."

He held up the restraining order for the court to see, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "This was not a simple marital dispute. Mr. Baek inflicted harm on Ms. L/N, both physically and emotionally. She had no choice but to separate from him and take legal measures to ensure her own safety."

San’s eyes flicked toward you for a moment, offering a reassuring glance before he turned back to the judge. "This conspiracy is an extension of Mr. Baek’s attempts to control and manipulate Ms. L/N. His actions have gone beyond personal harm and escalated into a criminal scheme designed to ruin her reputation and destroy her life."

Jaeyoon’s face reddened with anger. He shot up from his seat, glaring at San. "That’s a lie!" he shouted, his voice shaking with fury. "I never laid a hand on her—she’s exaggerating everything to make herself look like the victim!"

The judge raised an eyebrow, her gaze hardening. "Mr. Baek, you will refrain from speaking unless addressed directly by the court."

Jaeyoon’s mother, unable to remain silent any longer, stood as well, her voice sharp and indignant. "Your Honor, this is nothing more than a slanderous attack on my family! That woman—" she pointed accusingly at you—"has been trying to ruin my son from the beginning! She never belonged in our family, and she couldn’t handle the pressure of being part of something bigger than herself. This restraining order is just her way of making herself look innocent!"

The judge’s gaze was ice-cold as she replied. "Mrs. Baek, the restraining order was granted based on documented evidence of harm and harassment. This court will not dismiss it as a fabrication."

Jaeyoon, sensing the growing tension between himself and his mother, suddenly snapped. "You know what? Fine! Yes, the money was wired. Yes, the drugs were planted, but it wasn’t my idea!" He turned to his mother, his expression hardening. "This whole thing started because of her. She couldn’t stand the idea of losing control, and she dragged me into this mess."

His mother gasped audibly. "Jaeyoon! How dare you—"

"It’s the truth, Mother!" Jaeyoon snapped, his voice filled with anger and bitterness. "You said we had to get rid of Y/N no matter what if she went through with the divorce, that she was a threat to our reputation. You were the one who wanted to frame her! I went along with it, yes, but you were the mastermind!"

The courtroom buzzed with whispers and murmurs as Jaeyoon threw his mother under the bus. His mother, for the first time, looked truly rattled, her confident demeanor cracking. She opened her mouth to respond but couldn’t find the words.

The judge raised her hand, silencing the courtroom. "Regardless of who initiated the scheme, it is clear that both of you participated in an illegal conspiracy to harm Ms. L/N. The court is not interested in your blame-shifting; we are here to ensure justice is served. You will both be held accountable."

The judge turned back to you. "Ms. L/N, given the overwhelming evidence presented in this case, I hereby dismiss all charges against you. The court recognizes that you were the victim of an elaborate and malicious scheme. You are free to go."

Relief washed over you, your heart soaring as the weight of the past few months lifted from your shoulders. San’s hand brushed against yours beneath the table, a quiet gesture of support and reassurance. Behind you, your family let out sighs of relief, your mother placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

But the judge wasn’t finished. Her gaze returned to Jaeyoon and his mother, her voice now firm. "Baek Jaeyoon, your mother, and any individuals involved in this conspiracy will now face charges of fraud, bribery, and conspiracy to commit a crime. This court will see to it that justice is served. You are hereby ordered to remain in custody pending further investigation."

The gavel struck the bench, and the courtroom erupted into a flurry of activity. Reporters scrambled to document the fallout as Jaeyoon and his family were escorted from the courtroom in disgrace, their faces pale and drawn.

You stood slowly, still processing the magnitude of what had just happened. San was beside you in an instant, his hand resting gently on your back. "It’s over," he said quietly, his voice filled with quiet triumph. "You’re free."

You turned to face him, tears welling in your eyes, but this time, they were tears of relief and gratitude. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice breaking slightly. "I couldn’t have done this without you."

San smiled softly, his eyes warm. "You didn’t have to. We were always in this together."

As you left the courtroom, surrounded by your family and the people who had fought beside you, you felt a sense of peace you hadn’t known in a long time.

Justice had been served, and for the first time in months, you could breathe freely, knowing that the truth had finally prevailed.

-×-×-×-

The morning sun cast a warm glow over the city as you drove toward Saturn & Co., your heart lighter than it had been in months. The events of the trial were still fresh in your mind—the relief of being exonerated, the weight of the accusations finally lifting off your shoulders.

Today, you were returning to the company you had built, ready to step back into your role as CEO with renewed purpose after weeks of suffering.

As your car approached the building, you noticed something different. A large crowd of employees stood gathered outside the front entrance, their faces lit with excitement. You slowed the car, your curiosity piqued, and as you pulled into your parking spot, the realization hit you—they were all waiting for you.

The moment you stepped out of the car, the sound of cheering erupted from the crowd. It caught you off guard, the sheer volume of their support overwhelming. Your heart swelled with emotion as you took in the scene in front of you.

"Welcome back, Ms. L/N!" someone shouted from the crowd, and soon, the voices of your employees echoed the sentiment, their cheers blending together in a wave of affection and celebration.

Your eyes landed on a large banner strung up across the front of the building. In bold, colorful letters, it read:

"Welcome Back to Our Beloved CEO! We’re So Proud of You!"

Tears pricked at your eyes as you stood there, momentarily stunned by the outpouring of love. These were the people who had stood by you throughout everything—who had never lost faith in you even when the world seemed determined to tear you down. They had believed in your innocence, and now, they were here to celebrate your return.

A soft hand rested on your shoulder, and you turned to see Yena standing beside you, her face glowing with pride. "We wanted to do something special for you," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "You’ve been through so much, and we’re just so happy to have you back where you belong."

You smiled at her, your heart full of gratitude. "Thank you, Yena," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "This means more than I can put into words."

You took a deep breath and began walking toward the entrance, the crowd parting to let you through. Your employees clapped and cheered as you made your way up the steps, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of peace and belonging.

As you reached the front door, you paused for a moment, turning back to the crowd. "Thank you," you said, your voice carrying over the noise. "I’m so grateful for all of you. Saturn & Co. isn’t just a company—it’s a family. And I’m proud to be your CEO."

The applause grew louder, and you smiled, feeling the warmth of their support wrap around you like a protective shield. With renewed energy, you stepped into the building, ready to lead once more.

Inside, the familiar sights and sounds of the office greeted you—people bustling about, the hum of conversation, the scent of freshly brewed coffee. It felt like home, and after everything you had been through, you realized just how much this place—and these people—meant to you.

As you walked toward your office, you passed by employees who smiled at you, offering words of encouragement and congratulations. By the time you reached your desk, you felt lighter, more hopeful than you had in months.

Sitting down, you looked out over the city through the large windows, a smile playing on your lips. The battle had been long and hard, but you had emerged on the other side stronger than ever.

A knock was heard at your door before Yena stepped in, a bright smile on her face that caused one to form on yours too. "Ms. L/N... the surprises aren't done yet!"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really?"

"Mhmm, you have a dinner reservation with Attorney Choi San at the Signiel Hotel tonight," she says with a smirk, well aware of the feelings you had for San. "I also booked a suite for the two of you at the hotel."

You blushed, a small chuckle escaping your lips. "Yena... you're too much."

"I know!" she beamed. "I know you get off only at six thirty today, so I already packed a little bag for you. I also chose your outfit for tonight as well and I'll do your hair and makeup too!"

-×-×-×-

When you arrived at the restaurant in the hotel, your heart raced when you noticed San seated at a booth in the corner, looking at the Seoul skyline, the sun setting in the distance. He was wearing beige pants and a navy blue shirt with a couple of buttons undone. You were also wearing navy blue, and knowing Yena, you knew she purposely got you this dress to match with San.

As you moved closer to San, the sound of your heels caught his attention, and he turned to look at you.

He stands up, taking your hand in his. He brought your hand up to his lips, placing a delicate kiss at the back of it. "Y/N..." he greets, "you look gorgeous tonight."

You blush. "Thank you, so do you, Sannie."

San giggles. "Shall we?"

You take a seat across San, and he pours a glass of wine for you. "How was work? Yena told me your employees surprised you today." You nod your head, taking a sip of the sweet wine while you made conversation about the events of your day. San listened to you so attentively, his eyes full of adoration.

The waitress brought the food and you noticed it had some of your favorite dishes; ones that you told San you loved weeks ago. You felt really touched that he remembered your likes and dislikes.

The two of you ate in comfortable silence, occasionally talking about the food or an old memory while you both watched the sun set and the light from the buildings around became more bright.

After dinner, the two of you went to your suite at the hotel, putting on a romcom movie and sipping on some more wine. Throughout the movie, you were cuddled up to San's side, your arms wrapped around his muscular arm. You felt very at peace. You felt so safe with San.

Once the movie ended, you stretched your arms, getting up on your feet. You walk towards the floor-to-ceiling windows, placing a hand on the glass while you looked at the beautiful night view of Seoul.

San made his way towards you, pausing right behind you. "It's so pretty," you say in awe, turning around to look at him. The strap of your dress was nearly falling off your shoulder, catching San's attention.

San thought you were glowing. You looked so beautiful.

He took two slow steps towards you, towering over your smaller form. His eyes roamed all over your face. It seemed like he wanted to say something but was hesitant to.

"What's wrong, Sannie?" you ask, hand reaching up to cup his face. He placed a hand over yours while leaning into your touch. He was looking intensely in your eyes like as if he was looking for some signs.

"Can I kiss you?" San asks in the softest tone he could muster.

You smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up. "I'd like that."

San brought his free hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, making you lean into his touch.

He leans down closer to you, brushing his lips against yours before gently kissing you. It felt just like how he kissed you at his place — soft, warm, and pure.

Your arms moved to wrap around his neck, pulling him even closer to you. You caught his bottom lip in between your teeth, giving it a light bite. San let out a faint moan at your actions, pressing his body against yours.

When San pulled away to breathe, you took the opportunity to kiss his neck, gently sucking and licking at his skin, making sure to leave a mark on him Your other hand traced the expanse of his shoulder before moving down his chest until you reached the button of his shirt that wasn't undone. You place your hand flat on his chest, and you could feel his heart beating fast.

You pulled away to look at him. "Can I?" you ask, eyes moving between his and the buttons of his shirt.

"Yes, please," he responds, and you slowly move your fingers to unbutton his shirt, his muscular chest and abs coming into view.

San swiftly swept you off your feet, carrying you bridal-style to the loveseat in the very corner of the living room. As soon as he sat down with you in his arms, you moved to straddle his lap. You gently push the navy blue shirt off his body, exposing his bare upper body to you.

Oh. My. Goodness. Holy. Fuck.

Now, this was a view you could never get enough of: San, half naked, looking up at you with hooded eyes, with the Seoul skyline in the background.

San smirked, extending his muscular arms along the top of the backrest of the loveseat. "Impressed?" He asks, titling his head slightly, a smug look on his face while he watched your eyes take in the sight of his body that he worked very hard on despite his hectic attorney schedule.

You leaned in to place a lingering kiss on his lips before you let yourself sit down completely on his lap, feeling his hard dick beneath you, the only barrier being the material of your panties and his pants.

You mimicked his smirk, straightening your body, reaching for the hem of your dress, taking it off right in front of his eyes, letting it pool on the ground, leaving you in just your lacey panties.

San's jaw dropped.

He shamelessly checked you out, eyes noticing the muscles on your thighs, his mind imagining his face getting squeezed by them.

If you thought San was hard enough beneath you before, he was even harder now.

"Impressed?" You ask, repeating his words, your hands running through his soft black hair before resting on his shoulders. You leaned in to kiss him again, grinding down on his hard clothed dick.

San was about to lose his mind. "Very," he practically growls.

You noticed he hadn't touched you in any way yet. You reach for his hands, bringing them up to your chest so he could grab your tits. When he looked at you, you nodded at him, giving him consent to touch you.

San brought your lips back to his in a hungry kiss while you continued to grind on his clothed dick. His hands played with your boobs, giving them a light massage, rolling your hard nipples between his fingers. You let out a moan in his mouth, and you could feel your panties sticking to your wet folds.

You slightly pulled away, resting your forehead against his. "San..." You say his name breathlessly. Your head spinning from the intensity of the kiss. Your clit was throbbing, begging to be touched in any way. "San, please."

"Please what, baby?" San murmurs, his hands moving up and down your thighs. The pet name from his lips caused a chill to run down your spine.

"I want you right now," you say, pressing your core down harder on his clothed dick.

"Want me how?" He knew the answer, but he wanted to tease you.

You lean down to kiss his neck, dragging kisses up to his earlobe, placing a soft kiss beneath his ear. "Attorney Choi... Choi San..." you whisper in his ear in a low tone. "I want you to fuck me right now."

San's hands moved up your thigh to your heated core. He touched you over the fabric of your panties, smirking at the wet patch he could feel. "So needy for me, hmm?"

He looked you straight in the eye when his hands moved to one side of your hip, ripping that side of your panties, repeating the same thing on the other side. You gasped at his actions, and he tossed the scraps onto your dress on the floor.

"I really liked those panties," you say with a light chuckle, moving your body up to make yourself more comfortable, but San stopped you midway; your tits were right in front of his face.

"I'll get you a whole pack of them later," he murmurs in a low tone. "But could you stay like this for me, hmm?"

He took your nipple in his mouth while his finger swiped your slit to collect the wetness there. He rubbed your slick onto your clit, using it as lube to better rub your clit.

"San, fuckkk," you moaned when his finger moved faster on your clit. Without any warning, he pushed two fingers inside your wet pussy, wasting no time in pumping his fingers in and out while his thumb rubbed your clit in circular motions.

San pulled his fingers out, and you whimpered at the loss of contact. He sucked his fingers clean before picking you up and taking you to the bedroom of the suite. He dropped you onto the bottom of the bed so that your legs were dangling off the edge.

San unbuckled his belt, tossing it aside, his pants and briefs off following shortly after. You marveled at the sight of him nude in front of you, your hips bucked up involuntarily at the mere sight of him. He dropped to his knees, his hands moving your legs to rest over his shoulder. He wasted no time in licking your slit, moaning at your sweet taste. He attached his mouth to your clit, licking and sucking the nub while he slowly introduced two fingers in again.

Your thighs were squeezing his head, just like he imagined, and your loud moans prompted him to pump his fingers even faster. You were so lost in your pleasure until your orgasm came crashing, and you came all over San's fingers.

You took a minute to compose yourself before you sat up straight, wrapping your hand around his hard cock. You pumped his length, your thumb rubbing circles on his slit. San moaned you name out before taking your lips in his, his tongue brushing across your lower lip. You opened your mouth slightly to give him more access, but he pulled away and stopped your hand from jerking him off further. "You're making me feel too good, sweetheart... I might just bust right now."

"Let me ride you then," you say to him.

San nods, moving to lie down in the middle of the bed. You hovered over his cock, leaning down to kiss him. "I'm on the pill," you let him know before sinking down onto his length.

You started moving down on his dick at a slow pace, wanting to take the time to familiarize yourself with the way his cock felt in you. You sunk down even more until you bottomed out. You gave yourself some time to adjust to his size before you increased the pace, bouncing on his dick.

His hands moved to cup your ass, helping you slam harder on him. "God, Y/N, I-I swear... you're so fucking hot taking my dick like that," he growls.

The room was filled with your combined moans and the sound of skin clapping, and you watched San's eyebrows furrow while his tongue darted out to wet his laps, his upper teeth sinking into his bottom lip while he moaned.

San loved the way your tits bounced and the way you threw your head back, but he wanted to take control now. Placing his hands on your hips, he stopped you from moving and quickly flipped you onto your back.

"Let me take care of you, yeah?" He slammed his cock in and out of you in a rapid pace, his hands interlocking with yours while he fucked you. He was repeatedly hitting your spot, and you felt the coil of pleasure tighten in your stomach. You tried to move your hands to touch him, but his hands held yours down with a little force, the gesture causing your clit to throb yet again.

"San... I... It's... I'm gonna..." you struggle to say. Your body felt like it was on fire.

"Let it go, baby, cum for me," San encourages, hand reaching down to rub your sensitive clit. Few more thrusts and an intense orgasm washes over your body, causing your body to shake while you chanted out his name.

"Hold on, baby, I'm almost there," San lets you know. He quickened his pace even more before coming to a stop, his dick pulsating in you when he reached his climax.

San slowly pulled out before collapsing next to you. He reached for your sticky, sweaty body, pulling you to his chest while you both tried to calm your breathing.

He kisses your forehead. "Are you okay?"

"Mhmm," you mumble, "It was so good." San chuckles, holding you close to him. "Hey, San?"

"Hmm?"

"You know I have feelings for you, right?" you confess.

"Oh really? I didn't know that!" he teases, and you lightly smack his chest. "Of course, I think everyone knows that now. But Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"You know I have feelings for you too, right?" he admits, and the butterflies in your stomach flutter around wildly.

"I... I wasn't too sure," you murmur honestly, "I felt like there was so much going on and... I don't know, I thought that you might like me, but I've been... too much lately, these past few months."

San strokes the back of your head. "And? If anything, these past few months where you were so vulnerable and yet so brave, so strong, has made me admire you even more. My feelings for you have only kept growing since the first time you stepped into my office. I want to be with you, Y/N. I want to show you the life you deserve."

"You do?" you ask in a soft tone, your heart racing at his confession.

"Yes, sweetheart," he chuckles lightly. "But I don't want to rush into anything. I know these past few months have been hard for you. I want you to take as much time you want or need before you decide that I'm the one you want."

You hum, thinking about his words, appreciating how considerate he's always been. "I only want you, San," you turn to look at him, "I'll always only want you. I want to take things slow," you mentally laugh, because you literally just had sex with him, "but I want to do it all with you."

San's smile widens, his dimples deepening as warmth fills his eyes. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering like a promise. "You have no idea how much that means to me," he whispers, voice hushed with emotion. "I never thought I'd find someone who sees me like you do."

Your heart swells, and you pull him into a sweet kiss, one where you both can't stop smiling. The way his lips move against yours feels like a silent vow, like this moment is the beginning of something more—something real.

When you break apart, you giggle softly, your foreheads resting together. "Let's take a shower together and then cuddle to sleep, hmm?"

San chuckles, his breath brushing your skin. "You sure you're not trying to tempt me again?" His eyes twinkle with playful mischief.

You pretend to think about it, biting your lip. "Maybe… or maybe I just want to hold you close and feel safe in your arms."

San’s grin softens into something more intimate, his gaze steady on yours. "Then let me take care of you, the way you deserve. Always."

As you both make your way to the shower, hand in hand, the future doesn’t feel so uncertain anymore. For the first time in a long while, you're no longer weighed down by the past or the fear of what might happen next. All that matters is this—San, you, and the love that's beginning to blossom between you.

And as the warm water cascades over you both, washing away all the worries of the day, you know deep down, you're exactly where you belong.

[kitten4sannie]

pairing: ex! san x fem! reader feat. wingman seonghwa and instigator mingi

genres: omg actual plot ??, exes to lovers, romance, angst with a happy ending, fluff, an attempt at humor, smut finale

summary: during a winter getaway with your friends, you end up having to come face to face with Choi San, the man who broke your heart in two just last christmas.

w.c: 8.2k

tags: features the unholy trinity: misunderstandings/miscommunication/messiness, drama (i bring drama-ma-ma-ma~), alcohol use, mutual jealousy, mutual pining, lots of banter, third parties, poor sannie and reader are just two big dummies with even bigger hearts </3,, like 20 flashbacks (okay it’s like 2 but i like being dramatic sue me), too many winter analogies, insecurities, confessions, l bombs, tears, all that jazz

warnings: soft dom! san (literally the softest dom to ever exist IM SICK), subby! reader, pussydrunk san and cockdrunk reader (like these mfs are so desperate for each other it’s actually disgusting), dirty talk, pet names, praise, possessiveness, kissing, a lot of spit (leave me alone!!!), tit play, grinding, body worship, oral (receiving), passionate condomless lovemaking by the fire baybeeeee, breeding kink, bulge kink, creampies

a/n: so i listen to last christmas religiously every year and while i was jamming my hamster brain was like “WRITE WRITE WRITE” so i diddd and yeahh this happened??? lmao but fr this was the most fun i’ve ever had writing since feb filth fest…. like wtf. i gotta write plot forward fics more often this shit’s like a drug man. anyways i hope you enjoy my dear lovelies <33

*shoutout to my sweetheart bunbun @cottoncandy-girl for beta reading and hyping this fic up during the writing process. i would’ve second guessed myself twice as much if not for you. you’re a lifesaver!! mwah mwah ~~

song rec for the general vibe: last christmas by wham obv <3, fool by frankie cosmos, snowfall (slowed and reverb) by oneheart, know me by gemini, easily by bruno major, flowers and chocolate by eyedress

angst: pleaser by the wallows, do me right by gemini, homesick by wave to earth, cherie by hojean

smut: mice city by hotel ugly, between your thighs by jimmy brown, lock me in by hojean, touch by keshi, your love by brb

Masterlist

“Hey, Y/N,” your best friend began, walking around the side of your beat-up car to the trunk where you were busy shoving various suitcases and bags into the small space and trying to make them fit. “So, don’t get mad, but–”

With a case of wine bottles in hand, you slowly set it down on the lip of the trunk, side-eyeing your friend with the intensity of a thousand suns. It was so powerful, it’d probably melt the snow that had been falling around your feet for the past thirty minutes. “Why would I be mad? What’s going on?”

“Just breathe for me, okay?” she sighed, bringing a hand up to play with a few strands of her hair. “So, you know how Seonghwa’s coming up to the cabin with us?”

“Um, yeah…? I don’t care about you bringing your boyfriend with us, you know. Just let me know if you’re gonna fuck so I can put my headphones on,” you replied, lifting the case up and pushing it inside the empty space of the trunk, satisfied that your long game of tetris was finally complete.

She quickly waved her hands, shaking her head. “No, that’s not…” she started, taking in a deep inhale, before letting it out, a wave of condensation hitting the cold air between the two of you. “He invited…someone. Someone you know.”

You bent down into the trunk to move a few items around, making sure they wouldn’t collapse on each other. “Okay? I only know you and a few other people, bestie. Who could it possibly be–”

“It’s San,” she finally blurted out, her face scrunching up in anticipation of your reaction.

Once your ex was spoken into existence again, a flood of memories from the previous year bombarded your defenseless brain and heart, causing you to stand up so quickly, you hit your head on the edge of the trunk lid.

“Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay?” your friend gasped, already at your side, helping you stand up straight and placing her hand on the one you had held against the back of your head.

“Oh, yeah, I’m good. I think that just knocked all the bad memories out of my brain. Ready to head out?” you chimed, giving her a thumbs up with your keys in hand, stumbling a bit in place, your vision fading out slightly.

Sighing, your friend reached for the keys. “Yeah, I’m driving.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Your friend pulled her keys out of the ignition once she parked in a free space near the cabin you’d both be staying at, turning her head to observe the way you were playing with the drawstrings of your joggers with a pout on your sullen face. “Y/N, are you sure you’re okay? You know, we’re visiting everyone else later, so you can always stay at their cabin, if you’d like. It’s much bigger and has wifi, and definitely won’t have S–”

“I’m not a little bitch,” you suddenly whined, your eyebrows furrowed, your pout growing. “I can handle being in the same cabin with my dumbass ex, okay? I don’t even care that he’s here, actually.”

She nodded her head knowingly, giving you a gentle smile. “Just let me know if you’re uncomfortable, please. And if he starts up with one of his…unique personalities, tell me or Seonghwa, alright? He knows how to handle him.”

“I can handle him myself. There’s plenty of snow for me to toss him into, or some flames if our cabin has a fireplace,” you muttered, too stubborn to admit that your heart would most likely explode as soon as you had the displeasure of witnessing his disgustingly handsome face and charming dimpled smile.

Your friend shook her head slightly, unable to keep from smiling in your direction. “There is a fireplace, yeah.”

You sighed contentedly, admiring the expanse of dense snow, the sundry of oversized pine trees, the far away mountains covered in white, and the cluster of cozy-looking cabins beyond the frosted windshield. “Finally, some good news.”

Once you both got to the front steps of the cabin you’d be staying at, your arms full of the items that you could bring from the car, the front door swung open, almost giving you a heart attack on the spot.

“Baby, you’re here!” Seonghwa gasped, pulling your friend into his arms when she set her stuff down on the porch and spinning her around in a small circle, his eyes twinkling with pure adoration.

Once Seonghwa acknowledged your presence with a warm greeting, you stood off to the side while your friend and Seonghwa kissed and giggled with each other, your arms beginning to feel like jelly, wishing someone would just stamp the words “third wheel” on your forehead already.

“That looks heavy,” you heard someone say in a deeply familiar baritone voice, causing you to whip your head towards the origin, your wide eyes meeting San’s concerned coffee brown ones. “Do you want me to carry it in for you?”

“San,” you automatically blurted out, alarm bells going off, the mini versions of you running around in panic inside your head, your fingers clasping tighter around your things.

“Y/N,” he parroted back in the same cadence, already moving closer to you, his arms sliding underneath your belongings and holding them up with ease, his navy sweater doing nothing to conceal the solid mass of his arm muscles. “Is it like, misogynistic for me to carry your things?”

You opened and closed your hands, trying your get rid of the pins and needles. “No, I’d say it’s progressive since it’s a big dumb caveman carrying my things, so women: 1, patriarchy: 0.”

San offered you a dimpled smile, his wide shoulders scrunching up slightly, as a hearty laugh emanated from his throat. “Caveman, I like that. Should I go find a cave to explore?” He tilted his head, his eyes flitting between yours and your pleasing body line. “Maybe try to start a fire?”

Your heart leapt into your throat, forcing you to gulp it down. You sneered, already beginning to push past him to enter the cabin, only turning your head back to tell him, “Start a fire and jump inside, caveman.”

San smiled at you, seeing right past your act, watching you walk away, before turning his head to look at the two lovebirds still hugging on each other. “See that? She already gave me a pet name.”

❆ ❆ ❆

“Fuck,” you groaned, dropping yourself down onto the surprisingly comfy mattress in the cozy guest room you were occupying, finally done with putting your clothes and toiletries away in their respective places, for the most part, also noticing that the violent hammering inside your chest had subsided.

And then your door opened.

“Yo, this cabin is pretty sick, right? It’s got a nice, cabin-ey feeling to it,” San announced, walking into your room and looking around like he owned the place. Typical San behavior. Whistling casually, he eventually headed over to your side of the bed, picking up a few skincare products that were sitting on your bedside table to study them. “Does this retinol shit really work?”

“Excuse me, but are you lost? This is my room,” you combated, not bothering to get up from the bed you were currently sinking into, simply turning on your back and lifting your head up slightly to glare at him.

“Bro.” San clutched his chest like you had just emptied a clip right in between his tits, his eyebrows turning upwards, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Why do you act like we haven’t been inside each other?” He climbed onto the bed, looking down at you past his black bangs. “Matter of fact, I know you better than your little friend downstairs.”

You stared up at him, cursing yourself for wanting nothing more than to grab him by his stupid face and kiss him — but you wouldn’t, not after what he did. “You’re so gross.”

“Like in a sexy way, right?” he quipped, chuckling when you just shook your head. San slowly laid himself down beside you, looking up at the ceiling, reaching up behind his head and cupping the back of it to get more comfortable. “You didn’t argue against the fact that I know you better than your own self proclaimed ‘bestie’, you know.”

You let out a small sigh, resting your hands down at your sides, gripping the quilted blanket underneath you, your heart pounding inside your chest just like it did last Christmas. Did you ever fall out of love with him? Was that why your heart felt so stuck? Frozen in place? Like it was waiting for San to make it beat again? “Well, for once, you’re not wrong. I…let you in back then, obviously, so yeah, you know me better than she does. You know me better than anyone.”

San began to reach for your hand, hesitating for a second, not even realizing his walls were just as high. If only he could gather the courage to bring them down. “Y/N…”

You turned to look at San just as he turned his whole body towards yours, giving you one of his infamous gazes, his eyes closed ever so slightly, his lips parted, drawing in a breath. He lowered his hand, touching the top of yours, rubbing it with his thumb. “You know what else I know?”

Why did he have to do this to you? Just what the fuck was his problem?

“What, San?” you questioned underneath your breath, seconds away from losing it completely.

His eyes lost their playful twinkle, instead displaying sorrow. “Y/N, I–”

Seonghwa popped his head into the room. “Y/N, have you seen– Oh,” he deadpanned, displaying an oddly delighted smile for a split second, before his lips evened out. “We’re heading to the hang out now. It’s gonna snow pretty hard in a bit so it’s now or never.”

You both sat up from the bed, your cheeks burning like you had just been caught, well, inside of each other.

Seonghwa was about to say something when your friend walked up behind him and pulled him into whisper something, causing him to whisper back, the both of them nodding at each other.

You and San exchanged glances, before all four of you looked at one another. “Are you hiding things from me, pookie?” you playfully asked your friend, pouting.

“No, I’d never hide anything from you, pookie wookie baby bear!” she cried dramatically, running into the room and tackling you back down onto the bed.

San looked to Seonghwa, making grabby hands at him. “Where’s my hug?”

Seonghwa clicked his tongue, pointing at San’s thin sweater as it rose past his hips. “You better put on some more layers before we go, pookie bear. It’s cold as balls outside.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Instead of hanging out inside your friend’s friends’ cabin where the party was at, you loitered outside in the snow, building yourself a snowman. Maybe he’d stay by your side longer than the last one.

“Hey, what are you doing out here by yourself, ba–” San started, standing with his arm just barely pressing into yours, immediately clearing his throat, sticking his hands into his coat pockets. “Y/N, I mean, heh, sorry I’ve had a few drinks.”

You almost broke the empty beer bottle you were using as the snowman’s nose inside your hands from hearing San almost address you as baby, turning your head to look at the adorably goofy smile he had on his stupidly cute face. You bit your lip, wishing he would just say it, the layers of ice around your heart starting to crack. “I figured. Well, how come you’re out here with me, instead of shotgunning a beer or something with your caveman friends?”

Amused, San nodded his head, impressed by your ability to keep up with your shtick. “They’re too busy hanging around the fireplace, you know. The fire’s so pretty, they got distracted.” He grinned at you, grinning harder when you began to smile back at him, his heart skipping a beat at the sound of the giggle that escaped your lips. “I missed your giggle…missed you…” he murmured absentmindedly, pretending to stay busy by helping you round out the head of the snowman, while you stuck a rock into it where one of the eyes would be.

You dropped the other rock, standing still, feeling your mouth go dry. You racked your brain over his words, wanting to ask him why he didn’t stay with you in the first place if he was just going to miss you so much. You missed him too. You wanted him to know.

By the time you had made up your mind, San had picked up the rock and stuck it into the snow, completing the snowman’s face. “There we go. Mr. Snowman’s looking real nice.” He waited for a second, before turning to look at you with a concerned pout. “He’s not cuter than me, right?” When you didn’t respond, he blinked, leaning in. “Y/N?”

Instead of responding, you found yourself wrapping your arms around San’s neck, pulling him into a hug. You didn’t even say anything — you just focused on feeling his warm body against yours, recalling what it felt like to be his. His baby. If only he would just say it.

“Baby…” he whispered just under his breath, so carefully, like he risked the chance of causing an avalanche if he spoke any louder, gently rubbing your back in circles, automatically resting his head on the top of yours like he did last year. “What’s this about?”

“I don’t know, I just–” you murmured into his chest, your own about to collapse in on itself from hearing what he said, hugging onto him a little tighter than before, wishing things were different. “I…I think I’m drunk…”

“Oh…” San replied, swallowing harshly, only pulling away once you started to. He tucked a bit of hair behind your ear, giving you a concerned look. “You should come back inside and drink some water, then. Seonghwa was right to tell me to check up on you.”

Your face fell slightly, the bottle that was stuck inside the snowman drooping inside the melting snow as if it was mirroring your disappointment. “You…only came out here because Seonghwa told you to?”

“Well, I mean, he was the one that noticed you were gone, so he just thought I should make sure you were okay, yeah…” San explained, rubbing his arm.

You nodded your head, a soft smile returning to your face, not wanting San to see the hurt you felt, not yet, anyway. You were still able to hide it as of late. “That’s nice of him.”

“Yeah, Hwa’s a sweetie,” San mused, noticing the sad snowman, reaching out to fix the position of the beer bottle. “Too bad he’s taken, otherwise I’d be wifing him up and giving him the exclusive Choi San Caveman Experience. There’s a trademark on that, by the way.”He gave you another goofy smile, his smile growing when you offered him a few small giggles.

“I think you need water more than I do,” you mentioned, gently punching his arm.

San chuckled, his smile softening, wanting to say so much more than just, “You might be right.”

After a few seconds of too much silence, and too much yearning for an important conversation to take place, you instead pointed to the lively cabin behind you. “You should go get some. I’ll be back inside soon.”

“Okay, sounds good.” He put his hands back into his pockets, lingering there for a moment, before heading back inside.

You stood there for a while, watching the makeshift nose of the snowman begin to droop again, before you reeled your foot back and kicked into the base of the snowman, watching it topple over and fall apart.

❆ ❆ ❆

You lingered near the spiked punch bowl that sat inside the corner of the cabin’s empty kitchen, drinking down a solo cup’s worth of the fruity beverage and tossing the cup into the sink, not noticing another person’s presence until you turned to the side and bumped your nose into their broad chest. “Oh, shit– I’m sorry,” you apologized, backing up a bit to see that you had ran into no one other than Song Mingi, the man you had trauma dumped and cried to for an hour before having mindless rebound sex with after San dumped you. “Min, hey. Long time, no see.”

“Y/N. It’s nice to see you again. Very nice,” Mingi mused, taking a long sip of his drink, just studying you with his amused, half-closed eyes, pointing upwards with his finger. “What are the odds of this?”

“Hm?” Your eyes followed where he was pointing until your gaze settled on the mistletoe that hung from the doorway above the two of you, a memory of the past immediately lighting up the insides of your brain like the flash of a camera, the snapshot still fresh in your subconscious as though it had never faded in the first place, much like your feelings for San — but who were you to admit that to yourself?

“Jesus, what is with people and mistletoe?” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your itchy christmas sweater, ready to shield your eyes so you didn’t have to look at the two people vigorously making out underneath the red berries that were hung from the ceiling of the crowded cabin.

San hovered near you, running a hand through his hair, his eyes studying your scrunched up, flushed face, wondering how you could be so cute. “The origin of mistletoe is actually really romantic, y’know.” Once you met his gaze, his lips curled into a smile, his dimples making an appearance.

You gripped onto your sweater sleeve, smiling softly back at him, your annoyance fading. “Tell me about it then, Mr. Historian.”

San’s eyes sparkled at your reaction, his shoulder gently pressing into yours as he brought his drink up to his mouth. “Mistletoe has always been able to survive in the harshest of winters. Even when everything’s frozen…” When he lowered his hand, the side of his pinky touched yours, sending warmth into the both of your bodies. “….it still finds a way to bloom.”

You took in a quick breath, having to look down at your feet before your heart burst out of your chest as an unintentional ode to Alien and ruined the annual christmas party. “I didn’t peg you as a hopeless romantic, San.”

“I’m full of surprises, baby.” San hummed, gently taking your chin in his grasp and pressing a kiss to your lips, giggling delightedly as you buried your scorching face into his chest, his heart pounding, wanting nothing more than to show you just how hopelessly in love he was with you, but too afraid to grant you access to the very intense, very full extent of it, let alone himself.

He was full of surprises, so full of them that he was able to show such a meaningful display of love to you and still break up with you on the very same night, with little to no explanation, just a simple ‘I’m sorry.’ Choi San was truly an enigma — one you cursed yourself for still wanting to grasp, to hold, to forgive.

You looked down at Mingi’s drink only for him to motion for you to take it, immediately downing the punch until you were sucking on an ice cube and crunching it between your teeth, satisfied with the buzz coursing through your body, bitterness still seeping its way in your veins. You knew that what you were about to do wouldn’t make you feel any better, but you did it anyway, grabbing Mingi by the collar of his ugly Christmas sweater and smashing your lips against his. What you didn’t know, however, was that San was standing at the end of the hallway, with his hand in his coat pocket, there to witness how Mingi pressed you into the wall.

❆ ❆ ❆

Your friend slowly inched her way towards you from across the brightly lit, festively decorated living room full of your boisterous acquaintances having a battle with each other to determine who could be the loudest, drunkest individual in the room. Currently, it was San, unsurprisingly, who had a beer in one hand while hugging onto the obscenely large Christmas tree in the middle of the room. You couldn’t tell exactly what song he was singing, but you were pretty sure it was a romantic, mostly cheesy pop ballad from the 80s.

“Having fun?” your friend gauged softly, sitting down on the sofa in the corner beside you, clinking her glass beer bottle against yours.

You shrugged, taking a few sips of the chilled beer, crossing one leg over the other. “I made out with Mingi earlier, so that was cool, I guess.”

“You what?” she gasped, pressing closer to you, grabbing your arm and shaking you. “Y/N, oh my god, that’s so —” Her gossipy tone turned into one of concern. “But what about San?”

“What about San?” you grumbled, internally annoyed that all you could think about was San when Mingi’s tongue was down your throat. “He probably already did the same thing, considering how torched he is.”

She sighed, sinking into the couch, very well aware of how San truly felt about you, last Christmas, and how much he wanted to turn things around. Of course she would know. She had to hear it from Seonghwa, who in turn heard it from San off and on for the entire year, but she wasn’t about to speak for him. He would have to do that himself.

“Are you going to play truth, dare, or drink with us?” Mingi suddenly asked you, leaning his hip against the side of the couch, causing you and your friend to look up at him.

“Ehh.” You shrugged your shoulders at him.

He put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it, feeling someone’s eyes burning holes into the back of his head, figuring San was watching the both of you from the tree, who indeed was, his hands tightening around his beer and the scratchy pine needles he was holding onto. “It’ll be more fun if you join in, Y/N. How bout it?”

You sucked on your teeth for a second, your eyes moving past Mingi to gaze at San across the room, who was now talking to a girl who had came up to him, your stomach sinking at the clear appearance of his dimples. Stupid caveman.

You stood up, fingers squeezing around your poor beer bottle. “Fuck it, I’m in.”

“Good, good,” Mingi replied, smiling absentmindedly, bringing his own drink up to his lips, as if he wasn’t aware of the disaster he was about to bring into fruition — and all for the chance that he could recreate the events of last year’s Christmas party. It led to him having a pretty, teary-eyed girl in his bed to take care of, after all.

❆ ❆ ❆

“Yo, I can’t believe — he actually — I can’t breathe,” someone gasped out in between soundless laughs, falling back into their chair along with their other friends, pointing at San as he trudged back into the cabin past the sliding door, clad in only a form-fitting pair of Christmas themed boxers, wiping some snow off of his shoulders, before immediately going for his mixed drink and tossing it back victoriously, one hand on his hip.

“You bitches really thought I wouldn’t do it,” San chuckled self-righteously, taking another sip, before letting out a low ‘aaah’. “Someone owes me 20 bucks. Which one of you was it?” He held up an accusative finger to one of the girls nearby, who giggled and held her hands up defensively. “It was you, wasn’t it? Give it up!”

The rest of the group laughed in response, drunkenly leaning into each other, gleeful smiles plastered on their flushed faces.

“San’s pretty lively tonight,” Seonghwa said near you, nudging you gently with his elbow. “It’s almost kind of cute, huh?” Poor man was out of the loop, but he was trying, bless his heart.

“Cute?” you muttered, raising an eyebrow at him. “He’s butt-ass naked at a Christmas party. He’s a grown man wearing boxers with candy canes on it. What on earth is cute about that?”

Seonghwa pursed his lips, side-eyeing you. “I don’t know, I just thought you’d agree with the way you’ve been staring at him all night.“

You almost choked on your spit, bringing a hand up to your hair to smooth it out. “Well, it’s hard to keep my eyes off of him when he’s being an annoying ass pick-me like that.”

“But you picked…him.”

“I did. Ages ago, Seonghwa,” you corrected him, watching San out of the corner of your eye, unable to believe that he was letting the girl slip a twenty directly into the waistline of his boxers. As soon as you looked down, San’s eyes were on you, his lips turning into a frown, immediately pushing the girl’s hand away when it lingered a bit too long, his eyes filled with bitter determination. “You know what he did to me. He spent all that time getting my hopes up all year long, only to hit me with the ‘i’m bad with commitment’ card before he left the party last year. That’s bullshit and we both know it.”

Seonghwa sighed in defeat, sinking back into his seat, biting at his lip. “I get what you’re saying, Y/N, I really do. It was unbelievably shitty for him to do that to you, but San…I think he really regrets it. All he talks about is you, Y/N.” Seonghwa turned to face you, gently touching your wrist. “He’s always loved you. He just doesn’t know how to verbalize it.”

You started biting at your lip too, simply listening to your friend’s words, wondering if there was any truth to them. It’s not like you were hearing them from San himself. That would be a different story — though you didn’t know if he was even capable of that kind of vulnerability. “I’d like to believe that, Hwa. I just…”

“Oh my god! With tongue? My virgin eyes!” someone gasped loudly at something, covering their eyes, their friends laughing at his dramatic performance.

“At least someone’s getting some,” Mingi chuckled, while eyeing you, currently holding up the same piece of mistletoe you had encountered together earlier, only this time someone else was under it. Someone that made you wish you had never even came up to the cabin in the first place.

“There’s no way…” you whispered to yourself, unable to take your eyes off of San, who was holding that same girl against him, his hands clutching her hips, his tongue halfway into her mouth by the time you got up from the couch and grabbed a water cup from the coffee table, determined to keep your tears inside your body before you stormed out, but you had to answer to your demons first.

“Y/N, he’s just drunk! He’s trying to make you jealous, okay? He’s being an idiot! Y/N, listen–” Seonghwa tried fruitlessly to reason with you, reaching for your wrist, only for it to slip out of his grasp as you made your way up to San and the unsuspecting woman.

Your bitter, frozen heart quelled you to toss the water at San, watching it splash onto the side of his reddened face, the shock of it sobering him up almost instantaneously, causing him to pull away from the woman and look at you, the weight of his faulty decisions hitting him square into the chest when he saw the tears in your eyes. “Y/N…I…I didn’t mean….I just…” Tears began to form inside his own eyes. “I just wanted you to see me.”

“I see you, San,” you whispered, your voice cracking underneath the weight of your emotional turmoil. “I’ve seen enough, actually.”

San froze in place, while what felt like cement sink to the bottom of his stomach, unable to get himself to stop you from grabbing a freshly opened bottle of booze from someone’s hands and walking away from him.

Your friend tried in vain to reason with you, getting hit with a death glare, before you stormed out. She turned to Seonghwa, whispering “Do something,” encouraging him to run over to San, grabbing him by the shoulders and temporarily keeping him upright.

“San, listen to me.”

San sniffled, his nose sporting a pink hue, as hot tears began to drip down his clammy face, sinking down to his knees, watching as Seonghwa sank down with him. “Seonghwa, I fucked up. I just wanted her to want me. I wanted her to get jealous and take what’s hers. I didn’t know how– a-and her, and Mingi– I just thought maybe if I–”

Seonghwa shook San a bit, his nostrils flaring, his fingers squeezing into his friend’s trembling shoulders. “Get a grip and listen to me!” As soon as San took in a shaky breath and let it out, Seonghwa cleared his throat. “You’re going to put some fucking clothes on, nut up, and go after her. It’s now or never.”

San wiped his eyes, trying to control his breathing. “B-but what do I say, Seonghwa? How can I possibly–”

Seonghwa suddenly pulled him into a hug, clutching the back of his head, feeling San slowly begin to relax against him. “You’re going be honest with her, San. Tell her what you’ve always wanted her to know. The world isn’t going to end after you do. She’ll still be there, and you’ll be safe.”

San clutched Seonghwa’s back, blinking away a few remaining tears. “You promise?”

Seonghwa pulled away, curling his pinky finger around his best friend’s, giving him a firm nod. “Promise.” Seeing the trust inside San’s sparkling eyes, Seonghwa reached up to ruffle his hair, smiling softly. “Oh, and give her that Christmas present you’ve been waiting for her to open.”

A small smile slowly apread across his splotchy face, before he gave Seonghwa a stern nod back, reaching his hand inside the pocket of his coat to feel what had been sitting inside and collecting dust for the entire year. It was time. Things weren’t going to end up like last Christmas. It would be different this time. He would make sure of it.

❆ ❆ ❆

With each passing minute, you sank a little further into the abyss of your memories, as well as the freshly fallen layers of snow that surrounded you, splashes of alcohol melting into it whenever you took a lazy swig and dropped the bottle back down at your side. “You dummy…” you mumbled to yourself, sniffling, your warm tears and body doing its best to combat the chilly environment around you.

Once you reached a street lamp, the warm light glowing onto your damp clothes, the memories of last year, that had once been frozen over suddenly flooded into your mind so quickly, you had to lower yourself onto the gravel beneath you, resting your back against the metal of the large buzzing lamp. “Shit…” You brought your wrist to your eyes, smearing a fresh wave of tears into your slightly damp hair, realizing you had been there before, the deja vu hitting you harder than the icy night wind hit your flushed face.

“San, what’s wrong?” You stood next to your boyfriend, watching him simply stare at the Christmas tree in front of him, his hands in his coat pockets.

San clutched onto the present he had spent weeks waiting to be custom-made and even longer just staring at it inside his apartment, wondering if it was enough, if he was enough, for someone like you.

San slowly shook his head, taking his hand out of his pocket to gently grab your wrist, leaning in to ask, “Can we talk?”

“No, we’re not doing this right now,” you told yourself out loud, smacking the side of your head and shaking it back and forth to hopefully send the memory packing, but it persisted, much like the snowfall around you.

“I don’t understand, San, we were fine! We’re okay. Why are you doing this?” you cried, trying and failing to keep San from leaving the cabin, unable to catch the corner of his coat sleeve until you were both under a street lamp, the light blinking occasionally.

San slowly turned around to face you for a moment, shaking his head, keeping his tears at bay. He didn’t know what he was thinking. How would he be enough for someone like you? Poor San simply couldn’t see the beauty he saw in you in his own self. “I just can’t, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I really am.”

“Can’t what? Can you just talk to me, San? I want to understand, San, please, talk to me,” you begged him, your heart sinking further with each step you took towards him as he continued to walk away. You stopped eventually, in the front of his car, your breath caught in your throat. “So, that’s it? You’re just going to leave? Just like that?”

San stroked his hair with a shaky hand in an unconscious act of self-soathing, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, looking off to the side, before gripping the door handle of his car, as well as the felt box inside his pocket with his other hand, only seeing a blurry version of you by the time he looked back up. How could he explain how afraid he was of you and the love you offered him? How his many walls, like ice, were impenetrable, until you melted them away? It frightened him, so much so that all he could say was, “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” before he got into the car and shut the door.

“You…dummy…” you repeated, this time in a whisper, taking another swig from the bottle and choking down the strong liquor, about to force yourself to down it when you heard what sounded like a set of boots quickly shuffling through the snow.

“Y/N,” San gasped, almost completely out of breath from running through the rough winter terrain, bending forward slightly with his hands on his knees to catch his breath, sending puffs of condensation into the air around you. “I have to – tell you something–”

“Oh, now you have something to say? After all this time? That’s rich,” you scoffed, wobbling a bit as you stood up, trying to put up a front like you had done earlier, though your facade had since melted away, your quivering lips and red, teary eyes on full display. “…Go on, San…”

San finally caught his breath, his heart still hammering away inside his chest, reaching up to his head to stroke his somewhat damp raven hair, trying to swallow the growing lump inside his throat. “Y/N, I…I should’ve said this a long time ago, instead of just leaving you the way I did…”

The longer you stared at him, the longer he felt his walls crumbling around him, figuring that he had no choice but to tell you what had always been lingering on his tongue, buzzing in his heart and mind, and swimming inside his thoughts each night when he was alone. He realized it was worth the risk of having to return to a cold, silent heart, a bitter soul, and even higher walls that he could box himself inside of. To him, you were worth anything.

Your anger slowly subsided at the sight of his serious gaze, his warm coffee-brown eyes studying you like nothing else existed besides you. In fact, nothing did, inside his world, except for you. “San…” you murmured, reaching out to touch his hand, but he already beat you to it, interlacing your cold fingers together.

“I love you, Y/N,” he admitted in the softest, most convicting voice you’ve ever heard from him, slowly pulling out the box he kept inside his coat, opening it to reveal a small gold ring with a jewel shaped like mistletoe, gently sliding it onto your finger when you held your hand out. “I love you so much, baby. So much it terrifies me.”

“Oh, San…” you sighed, breathless, bringing your hand to your chest from being so overwhelmed with emotion. After a moment, you reached for his hand, squeezing it, moving closer to him, his confession and gift warming you up more than a raging, crackling fire ever could. “San–”

“If I had just told you how I felt back then, I wouldn’t have hurt you the way I did.” He squeezed your hand back, his chapped, lower lip quivering. “I wish I could take it all back. It’s all I’ve been able to think about– How I wish I could just turn back time and–”

You silenced San’s words with a gentle kiss, letting go of his hand to wrap your arms around his neck, his arms following suit, closing around your waist. You broke the kiss after a moment to whisper, “I love you too, San. Always have.” You caressed his face, making sure he felt the love pouring out of your words when you promised, “Always will.”

San let out a trapped breath of air, hugging you against him, protectively clutching the back of your head, unable to stop everything he had held inside from spilling out of him all at once.

You simply held him in your arms and stroked the back of his head, not noticing when the light above you had flickered once and went out for a split second, only to shine brighter than it did before, the light warming the exposed skin of your flushed cheeks.

❆ ❆ ❆

San sat on his knees beside the crackling fire, adjusting a piece of firewood, watching the flame catch onto it and travel along the cedar, enjoying the warmth on his skin, eventually turning his head back to admire the sight of you bundled up on the couch with a plush blanket on your lap, your hands clasped around a cup of tea, your eyes admiring your twinkling ring, before you noticed his loving gaze.

“Sannie, come here, love,” you spoke softly, taking one finger off of the cup to beckon him to you, sliding the blanket off and putting the cup down after one more sip.

“Coming, baby.” Eyes sparkling, San inched his way over to you, still on his knees, fitting himself in between yours so that he could wrap his arms around your middle, resting his head against your chest. “Mm, you’re so warm.”

You ran your fingers through his soft, still slightly damp hair, waiting till he looked up at you to caress his cheek, a small sigh leaving your lips. “I’m sorry for what I did to you earlier. I really shouldn’t have reacted like that. It was hypocritical of me.” You ran your fingers gently along his jaw, noticing the way he leaned into your touch.

“No, baby, I’m sorry,” he replied, rubbing his hands up and down your sides, pouting. “I did…that to you in front of everyone…It was really shitty…I just couldn’t think straight after I saw you with Mingi.”

Your face fell, your fingers sliding back into San’s hair to play with it. “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t…I want you to know that there was no meaning behind it, love. I was just bitter. And drunk.”

“I know, Y/N. It’s all forgiven, I promise you.” San reassured softly, responding well to your light touches, nuzzling your hand when it came back to his cheek, his fingers sliding underneath your sweater to squeeze into your sides, sending a light shiver up your spine. “But, you know what, baby?”

“What, Sannie?” Your body temperature started to increase as San brought himself up higher so that you were face to face, body to body, his palms settling onto your bare back.

“There’s meaning behind this,” he whispered, bringing his hands up to cup your face, before gently pressing his lips onto yours. You shared a few firm, passionate kisses, your lips moving against one another’s, hearing San whisper something else that sent a wave straight into your core. “Can you feel it, baby? My love?”

“Yeah, show me more, Sannie,” you murmured against his lips, his mouth slotting back onto yours, almost making you forget to breathe when his tongue began to explore the inside of your mouth.

San sucked lightly on your tongue, before moving down to kiss on your neck, his hands moving further up to unclasp your bra from underneath your sweater. “Can I please touch you, baby?” he asked with a desperation that made his deep voice go up an octave higher.

“Yes, please, touch me,” you responded with just as much desperation, arching your back into his touch when he slipped his hands up the front of your sweater, moving your tits in slow, gentle circles, his lips and teeth attacking your neck and collarbone.

“You feel so good in my hands, baby, fuck, I missed you so much,” San exhaled into your neck, squeezing the roundness of your tits in between his fingers, squishing them together, and lifting them up, only to drop them back down into his palms, groaning all the while. He pulled back slightly, rolling the hem of your sweater up a bit, his hooded, dilated eyes focused solely on yours. “Can I take this off?”

A quick nod was all it took for him to lift your sweater up over your head, your bra falling to the floor. Not wanting you to be alone, he reached behind his head and pulled his own sweater off, his sculpted, muscular upper body bathed in glowing, orange light from the fire blazing away behind him. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N…” he sighed, admiring your body like he did the very first time he saw you bare in front of him.

“So are you,” you replied, slowly running your hands up along his abdomen and back down, his muscles flexing slightly underneath your touch, his eyes following your fingers as they unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants down to reveal his cute custom briefs. “My Sannie, so precious.”

San blushed, his goofy smile slowly disappearing as he unbuttoned your pants, biting hard into his bottom lip once he got them off of you. “Baby…” Unable to just sit there and admire you, he reached forward to cup your tits, running his thumbs back and forth over your stiff nipples, lust clearly running rampant in his head and body by the way he was looking at you with such clear hunger in his eyes, his cock hard and stiff against your core. “Can I taste you?”

“Baby, you don’t have to ask, okay? You can have me, in any way–” you started breathily, feeling San’s cock beginning to pulse against you. “–Every way, Sannie. Please, take care of me.”

San suddenly clutched your hips, slowly grinding his clothed cock into your heat, while his mouth closed around one of your nipples to suck on it, his hooded eyes looking up into yours, his tongue darting out to lap at your tit.

“Feels so good, your mouth on me,” you breathed out, running your fingers through his hair, clutching it tight when he swapped your tit for the other, his jaw lowering so that he could fit more of your squishy globe into his mouth, sucking on it desperately. “Sannie…please…”

Knowing what you wanted, San pulled back to spit onto your tits, watching it drip down, before leaning back in to lick it up, his tongue cascading up and down your now slick skin, still guiding your hips against him, your legs already hooked around his slim waist. Your whiny moans were like music to his ears, taking a break from sucking and licking you to say, “You like it messy, don’t you, baby girl? Makes you so wet for me, doesn’t it?”

“Uh-huh, now come here,” you could barely get out, before you grabbed his face and slammed your lips against his, your mouths and tongues working in tandem, strands of spit dripping down your chins, San’s hands squeezing tightly into your hips, grinding against you so quick, so desperately, you were both about to reach your highs just from that.

“Sannie,” you sighed against his lips, caressing his jaw, his cock rubbing against your cunt in just the right way, your body pulsing with the need to be filled.

“Y/N,” he sighed back, pressing his forehead onto yours, the both of you breathing in the same air, the thick, throbbing length of his cock rubbing deliciously along your clothed slit until your lower halves began to jolt, your moans and gasps crescendoing in unison. “Cumming? Are you cumming for me, baby?”

“Y–esss, Sannie, m’ cumming for you,” you cried out, holding onto him as tightly as you could, your nails digging lightly into his back, feeling his muscles contracting. “Cum for me too, please, baby, let me see you.”

San let out a choked, whiny moan, panting heavily, losing his quick, focused thrusts, opting for sloppy, abrupt movements, barely about to get out the word, “B–abyyy…”

You both fell apart in each other’s arms, your eyes never breaking contact, your combined arousal soaking through your respective undergarments.

Once you both caught your breath, San reached down to rub your pussy with two thick fingers, able to see your slit through your shiny, see-through panties, his cum-covered cock already twitching back to life. “Fuck, baby, look at that…you’re completely soaked.”

“Just for you,” you nodded, spreading your thighs open further, pulling the hem of your panties up a bit to emphasize your puffy cunt, your clit pressing into the soft cloth material.

“Oh my god, baby, I need to taste you,” San suddenly whined, squeezing his fingers into the softness of your thighs, lowering himself down to take a deep inhale of your arousal, his head going completely fuzzy, unable to keep himself from drooling onto your cunt.

You slipped your fingers into his soft hair, bringing his face against your heat, sighing at the feeling of his nose bumping against your clit as he took another deep breath, shuddering when he began to tongue your cunt through your panties. “That’s it, Sannie, feels so good,” you moaned, your praise going straight to San’s cock, causing it to strain against his stained briefs.

“Mmmn,” San moaned against your pussy, licking one slow, long strip up your slit to your clit, filled with so much need for you that he couldn’t keep himself from tearing your panties off of you with one quick tug, making you gasp and release more slick, his mouth already on you to lap it right up, his other hand shoving his briefs down so that his cock could spring out against his abdomen, pre-cum smearing across his tan skin. “This pussy is all mine, baby…mine to eat, mine to fuck….mine to fill, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Sannie, all yours, it’s all yours,” you answered, clutching his hair, desperately grinding your cunt against his tongue when he held it out, looking deep into his eyes that never left yours for a second, suddenly gasping out when San spread your hole open, sending a wad of spit inside before his agile tongue slipped inside of you.

San grabbed the undersides of your thighs and lifted your lower half up so that he could tongue fuck you as deep as humanly possible, letting out a pleased moan each time his tongue entered your soaked, pulsing hole. He kept going until you saw stars, going ‘uh-huhhh, uh-huhhh’ as soon as you began to shudder, your arousal squirting out and soaking his flushed face.

“My pretty baby came so hard for me,” San sighed, licking your wetness up from your sensitive cunt and his lips, before he brought you in for another sloppy kiss, letting you taste yourself.

The longer you kissed, the more you wanted him inside you, needed him to fuck his love into you until you couldn’t remember your own name. You needed him so badly, you didnt even realize what you were doing until you had found yourself pushing San down onto the fur carpet below and straddling him, sitting on his lap in a way that showed the both of you exactly where his long, veiny cock would reach inside of you once he filled you up. “Need you, Sannie. Need you now.”

“You can have me, baby.” San’s cock twitched against your abdomen, his hands rubbing your thighs, eventually lifting you up and down onto his cock, groaning at the feeling of your pussy swallowing his length inch by inch. “Fuck, princess, have all of me.”

Instinctively, San began to buck his hips up into you, filling you up so well, you felt a bit dizzy, encouraging you to hold onto his chest, still taking his cock deep inside your cunt like you were made for him.

San must’ve agreed too because he couldn’t keep from groaning out, “Look at you, babygirl, look at the way you’re taking me, taking my cock so deep–” He pressed one hand to your abdomen, feeling the bulge his cock made each time he fucked into you, driving the both of you crazy. “Your pretty pussy was made for me, baby. Made just for me. You’re mine, babygirl.”

“Yours.” You quickly lowered yourself down to kiss him, his hands sliding up and down along your body to feel your warm skin underneath his touch, eventually settling his hands on your cheeks, wiping a few of your tears away when you began to cry from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Cum for me, Y/N…You can do it…Fall apart for me, baby, ” San encouraged in between heavy breaths, slowing the movements of his hips down, instead filling you up in a slow and meticulous manner, drawing your intense orgasm out of you. “Yes, baby, that’s it, that’s it…”

“Sannnn, oh my god, San.” The longer you fell apart, the tighter your pussy constricted around San’s cock, causing him to throw his head back, sweat dripping down along his straining neck, his veins growing more visible when he gripped your thighs tightly. “Fill me up, Sannie. Need your cum inside.”

“Cumminggg, princess, oh my god, baby girl,” San groaned heavily, lifting you up and down on his throbbing length, before fully sheathing himself inside you, coating your walls with white.

Panting, you both gazed at each other’s sweat-covered faces and bodies, knowing internally that it wasn’t enough. Not nearly.

“Again?”

“Again.”

San didn’t waste any time gently pulling you off of him and climbing on top of you instead, spreading you open and filling you back up, sighing at the sight of your mixed arousal forming a ring around the base of his cock each time he pounded himself into you. “You’re so full of my cum, baby…so full of my cock, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

“So full for you, Sannie, don’t stop,” you gasped, hardly able to breathe with the way he had you folded up, your legs over his shoulders, his cock slamming so deep inside you that you swore he was hitting your womb.

“Wasn’t gonna,” San exhaled, chuckling softly, his lips curling up to give you a smile, his eyes creasing with amusement. “Need to show you my love.”

“Show me, baby,” you sighed affectionately, smiling back at him, giggling at the sight of his eyes lighting up, before you pressed a kiss to his lips.

The wet, sloppy sound of your bodies joining together over and over filled up the otherwise quiet cabin, along with your harmonious moans, the remaining pieces of firewood still crackling away beside you. Time seemed to stop completely. It was just you and him, coming undone together for what seemed like a lifetime.

You both ended up back on the couch, your limbs and bodies entangled, snuggling together underneath the cozy blanket, talking with each other about anything and everything until your eyelids grew heavy, leading you to drift off, your fingers clasped together.

Before you could fully fall asleep, you nuzzled your cheek against San’s chest, gently inhaling his comforting scent. He smelled like aftershave, warm cedar wood, and spiced cinnamon. It reminded you of your time there at the cabin, the memories you spent together, both good and bad, swirling together to form a comfortingly bittersweet concoction, one that you would consume in every lifetime.

“San,” you whispered softly into the darkness, the fire beside the both of you now ashes and smoke.

“Yes, Y/N?” he whispered back, his arms closing around you protectively.

You sighed against his skin, your body and heart melting like the snow would begin to do as well, once the sun came up. “I love you so much, San…” You lifted your head up, hovering above him so that you could look down at him, your fingers clutching his jaw, your expression so soft San thought you might cry. “I want to show you how to share some of that love with yourself one day.”

San smiled up at you, his eyes full of so much adoration for you, it threatened to spill out of him, his fingers running through your hair. “You showed me, Y/N. Through it all, behind every word, every action, I still saw it there. That’s why I put myself first and confessed to you.” He smiled softly, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “I’m…not nearly as put together as I seem. I just love you so much, it makes me want to be strong. For you. And…for me.”

You didn’t realize you were crying too until you saw your teardrops land on his face and slide down his cheek, wondering if your icy heart had finally melted, and that was why there were so many tears escaping from your blurry eyes. “Oh, San, my sweet San, I’ll be here to watch you grow, I promise,” you murmured, hugging onto him and laying back down to rest your head on his chest, gently rolling the ring around your finger.

San’s hand came up from underneath the blanket to rest on top of yours. He squeezed your hand and you squeezed right back. “Promise?”

“Promise,” you repeated softly, closing your eyes, your heart at peace. “As long as you promise to watch me too.”

San closed his eyes too, a few more happy tears dripping past his cheeks, squeezing you just a little tighter than before. San felt safe. Whole. “I’d love nothing more, Y/N.”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2023.

[hwaslayer]

crimson (cs) | one shot.

—summary: life has always revolved around the club, the money, the clients— that is, until a first-time experience changes everything for san, for you; causing lines to be blurred, boundaries that are crossed. he didn’t think he’d get wrapped around your finger, falling deep into your spell. after all, he did become your number one client.

—pairing: choi san x stripper!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, nightclub au | smut, angst

—word count: 21.8k

—content/warnings: cussing/mature language, heavy on the night club/strip club setting, lap dances, oc doesn’t remove her clothing by choice but is a little more hands on with her clients at the club, alcohol consumption/intoxication, san’s got some baggage with his ex, mentions of a toxic past relationship, mentions of severed relationships with loved ones, protected/unprotected sex, praising, making out, one shower together hehe, missionary, doggy style wooof, cowgirl, sprinkle of spit play, clit play, breast play, mentions of marking, ass slapping, mentions of men getting touchy at the club, fighting (some pushing and a few punches), arguments, flashback scenes, not all ateez members are present - only mingi, san, wooyoung, hongjoong and jongho

—on rotation: agora hills - doja cat | anywhere - 112 | all night long - thuy & lil kev | IT’s you - wooyoung, san & yeosang

He became your number one client. 

Quick.

You remember the first time he stepped into the club with his friends, eyes roaming the floor until they landed on yours. You hadn’t expected the group to walk in when they did— the club being pretty dead lately, with the usual, familiar men walking in to let off some steam, to get their fix. You could tell it was the first time they’d ever walked into a strip club with the way they paused near the entrance, not really knowing where to go or how to get settled from there. One of his friends took the lead and walked towards the main stage, his hesitancy obvious with how stiff and awkward he was as he sat on one of the velvet chairs closest to the stage. You hadn’t really paid much mind to them at first, especially him. You had been busy on the other end of the stage, but his eyes had been glued on you the entire time.

That solely piqued your interest. 

He sunk into the chair comfortably, manspreading as his hands rested on his legs. He stared at you with his cat-like eyes, almost pleading for you to come closer and entertain him while his friends were busy tossing bills at your coworker on the right side of the stage. 

He didn’t budge.

You strutted over, initially planning to tease him a bit; play around, work with his ways to give him something to remember. Little did you know that taking the first leap, giving him that attention, was going to change everything between you and this stranger.

Everything.

▹ FLASHBACK

You step in front of the pole, sliding down until you get to a crouch– making sure your legs are spread enough for him to see the itty bitty fabric from your bodysuit barely covering your parts. You can see him subtly bite onto his bottom lip as he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. You get a little closer, getting onto your knees to crawl towards him; ass posted up in the air while you keep your eyes glued onto him. You’re close enough to the point where he can slip a few dollars into the v-neck of your bodysuit.

And he does, adorning that pretty smirk of his; pearly whites peeking through those pink, plump lips.

“Atta boy!” You hear one of his friends yell. “San’s finally enjoying himself!”

“Dude’s got heart eyes. Look at him. Mesmerized as shit.” Another of his friends laughs before continuing to shower the right side of the stage with bills.

San was his name.

San.

“Gorgeous.” You hear him mutter as you continue to work the stage, eyes glued onto him with every move— every twirl, every dip, every roll, you make. His eyes are taking note of every detail, every tattoo that lines your arm, down to your hip and thigh. Because he wants to study you, all of you.

“It’s his birthday, give him something special!” You glide down the pole before stepping off the stage to greet the men sitting around. It was a normal routine for you, a way to initiate flirty conversations and take men back to a VIP booth for lap dances— lap dances that could easily earn you rent in one night. 

A few of your regulars are sitting around, waiting for some kind of touch, attention. Which, you easily give through running your hand down their chests, whispering sweet nothings as they tuck a few more dollars under your bodysuit. 

Throughout all of this, San is still focused on you.

So, you make your way back to him; his friends are still loudly proclaiming he’s the birthday boy that needs a little gift tonight. And lucky for him, you’re feeling rather generous— especially with the way San buckles around you, pleading, begging, for more of your attention since he walked through the door.

“Is it really your birthday?” You crouch in front of him, hands traveling up his thighs while you lick your lips and bite onto your bottom lip.

“Yeah, it is.” He swallows the lump in his throat when your hands brush against his belt.

“Please give him a private dance.” The same friend from earlier says. He has short black hair with a mole underneath his eye, black button-up exposing his honey skin underneath. He slips you a few hundred bills, a smirk plastered on his face when you meet his gaze. You gladly take the money and stuff it into your bodysuit, grabbing San’s hand as you lead him to the VIP area.

“You didn’t have to.”

“You come to a strip club on your birthday and try to deny a lap dance? That your friend paid for? Odd.” You tease as you push him against another velvet couch. The VIP booths are off to the side of the club, with red mood lights and cringy, dark red velvet curtains draping the front to provide privacy. The booths are small, intimate; just enough space for you to work the pole and be all up on San.

“I mean, I just—” He chokes on his words as he plops onto the couch. “You’re a busy woman, it seems.”

“I am.” You straddle his lap. “But, I can make time for birthday boys, too.”

“That’s nice to know.” His eyes carefully watch your every move. Your hands travel down his neck, down to his tie— tugging on it as you start to bodyroll against the music, against him, making sure San feels you. “Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. You watch as he reaches, but prevents himself from touching your thighs; afraid he’d be crossing a line even though, technically speaking, those lines have been blurred since he walked into the club.

“It’s okay, San.” You reassure him with a whisper, lips almost grazing his ear. His eyes meet yours just as you pull back and bounce on him a bit, hands caressing up and down his chest. You continue to work him slowly, taking your sweet time to make San feel appreciated, to make San feel like he’s had the best birthday in years.

“You know my name?” He says, hands comfortably coming up your body, giving your breasts a squeeze. His hand runs up your neck, to your jaw— gently forcing you to keep eye contact with him as you continue to dance on him. He’s entranced by you that he doesn’t really know what else to say, or how to react. But god, do you feel amazing on him. That body, too?

Heavenly.

“Your friends have been yelling it all night.” You stand and straddle him in the opposite direction, legs wrapped around his torso as you lean forward and bounce on his dick a little more. San can’t help but run his hands down your ass, giving it a good squeeze before you come back up and pry yourself off of him to head to the pole in front of him.

“Fair enough. What’s your name then, beautiful?” You look at him, ignoring the question at first. But, San feels a little different than your usual customers, feels a bit more personal even though you don’t know anything about him nor does he know anything about you. It’s the way that he looks at you, focused on your face, your every move. It’s the way that it’s a room full of dancers and he’s stuck on you. Most men are in the club to fill a void; seeking for quick satisfaction, something that’ll eventually blow over until the next visit. But, it’s nothing more than that. You are nothing more than a dancer, nothing more than a face on stage— someone who collects their bills and runs.

But to San, you feel different.

Before you look into him too deeply, you quickly snap out of it and begin to twirl around the pole, doing your usual pole routine when you’re in the VIP booth. You fall into a split, hand coming down from the pole, down to your body.

San follows.

“My name?” You repeat, and San nods.

“Is that not a normal question here?”

“No one ever gives out their real names here.” You chuckle.

“Then, what’s your stage name?” Time passes when you’re dancing. Usually, you give them 30 mins tops, 45 mins if they keep sending big bills your way. But, you never try to spend more than that with the same person. Not in this community. With the hundreds San’s friend handed you, you would’ve stopped at 15 minutes if this were anyone else.

You’re closing in 20– probably will be 30 when you blink— but you don’t really wanna stop giving San this attention. He’s attractive, fitting his button-up and slacks in all the right places. He has black short hair, a few strands draping over his forehead, a pretty Rolex sitting on his wrist. You think he could handle you if you gave him the chance, and the thought is enough to make your brain short-circuit.

“Crimson.” He smirks, running his finger across his bottom lip while he continues to watch you bounce your ass on the stage. He thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on— the bodysuit doing your body wonders as it makes his mind wander to the unknown.

To what you would look like naked, to have you underneath him, to have you calling his name.

He’s been glued to you from the start and he’s not sure what kind of spell you have him under, but he wants more.

“Crimson.” He repeats, the stage name dripping off his tongue like water. “Are you here every night?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” You twirl with a smirk on your face.

“Come on, don’t do that.” He leans back, head resting against the couch as his hands rest on his thighs.

“Why would it matter?”

“I wouldn’t wanna come back if you weren’t here.” You giggle, stepping away from the pole and slotting yourself back in between his legs at a crouch.

“There’s plenty of other amazing dancers, you know? I don’t make the club.”

“You’re right, you don’t. But, it’s not them I’m asking about.” Your hands travel back up his legs, your face inches away from his dick. You swear you hear him hiss a bit the minute your face glides over, planting small, chaste kisses against his clothed stomach right above the belt. 

“I’m here 4 days a week.”

“What days?” You stand, bending to whisper in his ear. His hand comes up to graze your thigh and hip, shivers shooting down his spine when you respond with:

“I guess you’ll have to find out.” Because now, San takes it as a challenge and he’s determined to figure out which nights you’re here. Initially, he agreed to this whole thing thinking it’d be a one-and-done— a birthday done differently after all these past years only to become an after-thought as time goes on. But now, he wants more of you, all of you; wants to keep seeing you, feeling you, touching you, seeing you dance for him and him only.

He’s not sure what kind of spell you have him under, but he wants more.

You look at him once more, tipping his chin with your finger before dipping forward. You only give him enough so that the tips of your noses brush against each other, enough to tease but not please the birthday boy on his special night. 

“See you soon, Sannie. Happy birthday.” You whisper before turning on your heels and leaving him in the VIP booth to return to the stage. San has to gather himself for a minute, loosening the buttons on his shirt and his tie and adjusting his pants before heading back out to his friends.

“So?! How was it?” Wooyoung leans over on the chair right after he greets another dancer making her rounds across the floor.

“Good.” 

“He’s red in the face.” Mingi laughs. “It was more than good.”

“Say thank you for the best birthday ever, Wooyoung.” Wooyoung teases and San can’t help but shake his head. He’s still lost in thought, eyes subtly scanning the room to find you but you are busy taking new customers into the VIP booth. The room feels hot, and he wishes he could be in the VIP booth with you, alone. He truly wished it never ended. “Let’s head to the bar and get more drinks.” San shrugs and follows along, the 4 of them heading into the bar where the music is louder, and other dancers are flooding the area.

As the night goes on, you’ve finished tending to your regulars— already knowing what they want, what they need, but making your boundaries clear every time they try to step over the line and take advantage of your generosity tonight. By the end of your shift, it’s 3am and you’re exhausted. Your feet are hurting from the platform heels you’re sporting. It’s crazy how after all this time as a dancer, you still aren’t used to the heels you have to throw on, excited to dip your feet in a hot, lavender foot bath when you get home. You change back into your casual sweats and matching hoodie, throwing the hood over your head as you bid farewell to your coworkers and step out the back door into the cold, crisp night. When you cross the alley to get onto the main road, there are a few gentlemen standing around, some smoking their cigarettes while chatting with their friends.

Usually, no one causes you trouble. From time to time, your usuals are drunk and babbling nonsense about how they wish they could take you home, show you ‘a new world.’ But, no one ever gets handsy, no one ever forces themselves on you. For the most part, they know what this is, they know at the end of the night this is nothing but a temporary fantasy— one you fulfill for a specific time frame before the new day dawns and things go back to normal, to routine.

Tonight, it’s a bit different.

“Yo, isn’t that the dancer?” You hear a familiar voice as you cross through the alley, passing by a big group on your way. They seem to be tending to a friend who has gotten sloppily drunk, yacking their brains out off to the side of the club. 

“Aye cutie, going home already? Wanna give the birthday boy more love?” Another friend questions after he pulls the cigarette from in between his lips and exhales. “Bro, Mingi. Hurry up and get your sloppy ass together. It’s fucking cold.” He scolds their incredibly drunk friend afterwards.

“Hongjoong.” You hear San call for his friend. You do nothing but give them a simple look as you continue to walk on, trying not to feed them any attention. As attractive as San is, you are too tired to deal with this right now. After all, you are just a dancer. What more could you be to him? You temporarily feed into their fantasies, nothing more, nothing less.

“What, it’s a simple question. You never know, she might be down.” 

“Sorry.” San apologizes on his behalf, his eyes red and glazed from the alcohol.

“Not down?” Hongjoong asks again, his eyes now glued onto you.

“No, I’m not.” You respond, walking backwards to maintain eye contact. 

“Aw, why not?” Honey-skin with the black-button up chimes in. “He’s single. He could use it.”

“The fuck? Not helping.” San looks at his friend and taps him on the chest, making him bust out into a loud laugh.

“I don’t do that. Nothing beyond the club. Sorry to disappoint.” You smile at them before walking off onto the main street.

“Can he at least escort you home?!” They call out as you cross the street, making you roll your eyes as you continue the journey home all by yourself.

▹ END

Since then, there’s been a new addition to your regulars. One particularly more intriguing than the rest. You didn’t really believe Mia when she told you the familiar face came on your days off, asking the bartender if you were dancing tonight. He came, and he came, until he figured out the exact 4 days you worked. To say you were surprised would be an understatement because why on earth was San actually looking for you?

Why was he actually trying to figure out your schedule?

Did he really want to see you, or were you just his favorite dancer? Was he too shy to get close to the other dancers [at a strip club]?

It’s been a couple of weeks and San still comes. But, you’ve pushed the questions to the back of your mind; taking his visits with a grain of salt. You weren’t sure you’d pry anyway, afraid you’d be reading into this too much. After all, you are just a dancer.

What more could you be to him? You temporarily feed into their fantasies, nothing more, nothing less.

“Babe, your man is here.” Mia peeks into the dressing room, her head popping in from the doorway.

“He is not my man.” You give her a look, but she giggles and smirks before turning.

“Hurry that ass up, he seems anxious.” She calls out just before she heads back out to the main floor. You roll your eyes, dabbing more lip gloss on your lips before heading back out onto the floor. As promised, San sits in that same chair you met him during his first night at the club while Wooyoung [you’ve come to learn] lingers near the stage. Wooyoung is already entertaining another dancer, taking every opportunity to slip a few bills underneath her bikini top. 

To tease San a bit, you come up from behind up, trailing your hands down his chest while your lips ghost his ear. He turns slightly just for some sort of confirmation, though he’s already studied your body— down to the way you move, the way you tease.

“San.” You call his name. “Should I still be surprised that you’re here again?”

“You tell me.” He smirks, that pretty smile of his slowly becoming a weakness for you. “I’m just here to get my fix.” He winks, even though he really just wants to see you and be alone with you again.

“Get in line.” You tease. San immediately holds up a few bills, eyes darting from yours to your cleavage in that incredibly tiny silver bikini top you have on.

“Should I?” He subtly bites onto his bottom lip as he slips the money right into your top. You playfully roll your eyes and lead the way to a VIP booth, San undoing his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves just about halfway up his forearm. Truthfully, yes, it’s been a long day [week, even] and he’s needing a release; wanting to let out some steam. But, he’s also excited he could do that with you and only you. He watches your hips sway as you walk and wait for him to enter the booth, shutting the curtain close so that it’s just you and him underneath the red mood lighting. 

You step onto the stage; twirling around the pole before you bounce your ass on the stage. San watches intently, eyes glued to your bottom half when you spread your legs and show him how much those bottoms aren’t doing shit for you.

He is so, so curious. 

He takes note of every detail of your body, studying it over and over again like a book. And god, he wants to do everything and nothing all at once— stuck between wanting to get his hands all over you and doing nothing just to admire your pretty face, your figure. San felt like maybe this was just a phase, a new, exciting experience in his life that’ll soon fizzle out.

But when San looks at you, he can’t agree. He’s not sure what kind of spell you have him under, but he wants more.

He leans back onto the couch, his head resting against the edge as he manspreads. He licks his lips while watching your hands travel down your chest, your stomach. 

“Why are you so far?” He questions, motioning for you to come closer. Your bikini top and bottom are still driving him crazy, and he’s certain he’ll lose his shit once you sit on his lap.

“So eager tonight?”

“Just been a rough week.”

“I’m sure, as with everyone else here.”

“Am I just everyone else?” You let out a small chuckle, straddling his lap. His hands immediately come up to cup your ass, giving it a good squeeze before you start to work your hips on him. He’s gotten pretty comfortable by now, though San still shoots you a look as if it’s his way of asking for permission first. You appreciate the little things, and San most definitely isn’t just like everyone else. But, as with any defense mechanism, you resort to a guarded response:

“I mean, you’re here at ungodly hours tipping girls for a dance.” He lets out a small laugh, strong hands now at your hips. 

“Mm, I really only come for my favorite though. You might know her?” He jokes, his face only inches away from yours. 

“Do I?” You follow along with his teasing. The strap to your bikini top falls off your shoulder and San’s eyes follow; the small room feeling 10 degrees hotter, pants a little tighter. 

“Mhm.” He hums, his finger tracing a line up your leg. “She has tattoos just like this lining her thigh—“ He moves it up to your hip. “Up her hip.” His thumb comes up to your lip. “Pretty lips just like that. Long lashes. Prettiest smile I’ve seen.” His face moves towards your neck, lips grazing the surface below your ear. “Mole on the neck.” You subtly bite onto your bottom lip. San’s hand brushes up against your breast before he touches the small mole on your neck.

“Sounds like a lot of the girls around here.”

“Mm, but the one I’m thinking of goes by the stage name Crimson.” You continue to tease, bounce on him a little more, shake ass a little more. Your eyes linger on him a bit longer than you’d like, and you find yourself retracting. To him, the room is probably degrees hotter— for you, it’s starting to feel suffocating.

“She’s nothing but a ‘lil dancer, San.” You whisper in his ear, lips brushing against the surface before you hop off his lap. San is a little confused at the sudden change, but you feel like you’re reading too much into this, too much into San.

This isn’t supposed to be anything but business.

Why would San ever want you in that way? Most of this is to fulfill a want, a need, a fantasy. San is most likely saying this to get what he wants, to take charge and lead you on.

Though, at the end of the night, you are nothing but a face, a dancer. He wouldn’t think about you past the club. That is where this ends, regardless. 

You give San one last look before you brush past the curtain, returning to the stage closest to the bar. Wooyoung is getting dragged to a VIP booth, his other friends now standing and gathering around the stage to get up close and personal to the girls currently on there. You make a beeline to the stage near the bar, the area being a little more dead than the main stage room.

Right before you hop on stage, Mia is delivering drinks to a few men off to the side of the room. She shoots you a look, following after handing over the drinks.

“Why are you rushing? Did something happen?” You wait for the bartender to hand you some water.

“Nothing happened.” You sip a bit to shake off your thoughts, your feelings.

“You sure? I’ll beat someone’s ass if you need me to and call security to toss them out.”

“I promise.” You look at her and squeeze her arm. “I’m just gonna stick here for the rest of the night, though. Need a change of pace.” She nods.

“Alright, if you say so. I’m still onto you.” She says, leaving you to help the bartender with delivering the drinks.

For the rest of the night, you continue to dodge San and his friends until the end of your shift. You don’t usually leave through the front doors of the club, but tonight, you sneak out and rush across the street with your hood up. You can hear San and his friends as they leave, causing you to pick up the pace of your steps— hoping you’ll avoid being caught.

But, San sees you, anyway. His eyes can’t help but watch for a few seconds more before he’s returning his attention back to the boys. He felt the shift earlier, and he picked up on the way you continued to hop from stage to stage— seemingly avoiding their group. He’s not sure what happened, or why he feels like you’ve suddenly got your guard back up around him. It’s something about you, and San knows it shouldn’t be that serious. This became a fun little past-time for him and his boys. But every time he’s left the club recently, he leaves a little bit more attached to you.

Because yes, you know how to work your magic in there. It’s no fucking joke. He gets a taste of you on stage, in the booth, and it blows his mind. But other than that, it’s the way you return the same look, the same touch. There’s something else, more to you than the surface, and he’s curious to find out.

It shouldn’t be that serious, but for San, it is.

“What’s wrong?” Jongho pushes a small coffee your way, cocking a brow when he sees how checked out you seem today.

“W-what?” You look at him, finally pulled out of your daze. “Oh, nothing.” You grab the cup and take a sip, giving him a tiny toothless smile of appreciation. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” He sets his coffee onto the side of the cart, helping you unbox a few albums that arrived today and needed to be restocked on the shelves. “So, really. What is it?” He asks, eyes still focused on restocking. Jongho has been one of your closest friends— probably the only closest, genuine friend that stuck by your side since you were younger. He still keeps in touch with the group you grew up with since middle school, but lots of those relationships have been severed after you started dancing at the club. Jongho was the only one who didn’t see you any differently, nor did he take the job as anything bad. He always knew you were passionate about dance and he understood you when times got tough; strapped on cash and needing a quick fix that would help you get by. It was a bit of a risky, somewhat dangerous step, but who was Jongho to control your life? You already didn’t have a great relationship with your parents, so the least Jongho can do is support you and be your pillar if no one else would be. He knew you could make your own decisions, and only you knew yourself best. He knew you’d take care of yourself, whatever that looked like.

Jongho was the manager at this small, quaint music shop in the city. Though, the city you lived in wasn’t entirely huge compared to others. It still had its old-school touch of wooden, soft decor with a rage of vintage to mainstream albums and art throughout the shop. The owner was a middle-aged man who used to play in a band back in the days, now retired and trying to stay in touch with his roots through the shop. Jongho had worked here for years before stepping into the full-time manager position and helped bring you on, especially during the time you needed it the most.

You really appreciate Jongho, and you’re glad you at least have him.

“Sometimes, I feel like I should’ve just finished school.”

“You did. High school?”

“College.” Jongho shrugs when you respond and give him a look.

“If it wasn’t what you wanted to do at the time, then why force yourself? Besides, it’s never too late. You can always go back to school.” He turns to you and places a hand on his hip. “Why are you thinking about this all of a sudden?”

“I don’t really know. What if they were right? What if I’m not good for anything besides being a stripper? What if I’m just that?”

“You and I both know that’s not true.” Jongho tosses the empty box aside, triggering you to get it together and start doing your job. “You’re smart, talented, and passionate about a lot of things. Especially dance. Just because you work at a club doesn’t make you less of a person, Y/N.” He says in that usual serious tone of his.

“Thanks.” You poke your bottom lip out as you arrange the albums and start tagging the price stickers onto them.

“Who is it?” You sigh, already knowing Jongho won’t leave it alone until you finally tell him the truth about why you’re suddenly questioning your life.

“It’s the same guy I told you about. The birthday boy.” Jongho does a tiny nod of acknowledgement.

“He’s still showing up with his friends?”

“Yeah, surprisingly. And he always looks for me. Asks for me. Doesn’t pay attention to any other dancer there.”

“Maybe he has a crush on you.”

“We know nothing about each other. He knows my stage name, he knows my club persona.” You sigh. “That’s why it made me question life. It’s dumb, I know.” You purse your lips together as you shove the albums into the shelf and move onto the next task.

“Well, there has to be a reason why he keeps coming back for you and only you. Maybe he wants to know you, outside of the club and that whole persona thing.” Jongho shrugs. “Never say never.”

“He’s a businessman of some sort. Suited up all the time. He must work for a really good company. Probably has a family that is well off.” You shake your head and make your way back to the front. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Why don’t you ask—“ At this point, just as you settle at the register with Jongho, a few people enter the shop. You whip your head towards the entrance when you hear some laughter, only for your eyes to widen.

“Oh, shit. Jongho!” You whisper harshly. “What the hell is he doing here?!” He looks over your shoulder as San and Wooyoung walk in, Wooyoung instantly making a turn to head to the vinyl collection.

“Is that birthday boy?” You nod with a worried expression on your face. San is about to walk past the register when he furrows his brows at the small commotion happening behind the counter, turning his attention towards you and Jongho.

“Too late dude, he’s right there.” Jongho blocks you from leaving. “It’d be too obvious now, just take it like a fucking champ and say hi.” He says through gritted teeth. “I gotta walk around anyways.” He turns to San enthusiastically. “Hey, welcome in.”

“Hey.” San looks at the both of you, his brows still furrowed when his eyes land on your face.

“Hi. Let me know if you need help.” You try to scurry off, but San stops you.

“Woah, wait. You’re—“

“Don’t say it outloud here.” San’s lips form into the shape of an ‘o’ before nodding. He can’t help but glaze over your features and how naturally beautiful you are– the sun hitting your skin perfectly. You never packed on the makeup heavily on stage, but you did still have a face on every time you worked at the club. He subtly nibbles onto his bottom lip, hands dug deep into his jacket pockets.

“You work here, too?”

“Makes up for the days I’m not there.” He nods.

“Well, hi.” He gives you a small smile.

“Hi.” You tilt your head. “I’ve never seen you around this part of the city. Ever.” He snorts a bit.

“We’re never usually on the outskirts, but Wooyoung was adamant about getting vinyls for his new record player. You guys are the only shop that has a good collection.” You nod, San stepping aside when a customer unloads their basket onto the counter. He lingers around, watching how delicate you are handling the merchandise and how big your smile is when helping the customer. As expected, you’re very different from the club— you seem more relaxed, laid back. Sweet. Happy.

“So, are you just gonna stand there and wait for Wooyoung?” You chuckle after wrapping up the transaction and handing the customer their bag, bidding farewell as they head out of the store.

“I don’t really need anything so, yeah. I guess so. I’d rather talk to you, anyway.” You give him a look and take the sticker gun in your hand, walking away from the counter when a coworker comes back from break to relieve you.

“I’m working.” You head back to the floor, San following behind.

“I know.” He watches as you begin to sort through another shipment. “Are you gonna tell me your name now that we’re outside of the club?”

“Why do you wanna learn my name so badly? And why are you always at the club? Don’t you have like.. other things to do? A girlfriend or someone to entertain?” You shiver at the thought. God, you hope not. Especially with how he’s been lately. But, men are trash and you wouldn’t expect any less.

“Because I do? You’re not just someone from the club.” You look at him briefly before looking back down at the stack of albums. “And no, I don’t have someone to entertain. I wouldn’t be there often if I did.” Touché. “We just had fun on my birthday. It’s a good way to let out some steam after busy days.”

“Hm.” You hum.

“I like seeing you there.” He casually says, making you pause in your actions before continuing. 

“I don’t make the club, San.”

“You make it for me. Or else I wouldn’t be going.” You look at him again with a hand on your hip. He has a small smirk plastered on his face and you can’t help but notice how attractive he looks under the daylight— smooth honey skin, hoodie over his head, soft black hair teasing his forehead. Your eyes linger on him for a lot longer than you’d like, having to force yourself to snap out of it when you realize [again] that San wouldn’t want you in that way.

“What are you trying to do here?” You cock a brow up just before you start working on the CDs in front of you, marking them down and adding new price tags to the back.

“Get to know you.”

“Why me?”

“Why not you?” San continues to smirk, leaning against the shelves. 

“Y/N, take your break in a few minutes.” Jongho says coming down the aisle before giving San a small, pursed smile.

“Yeah, Y/N.” San chimes in and teases. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“You ready? I found what I needed—“ Wooyoung comes from around the corner, pausing mid-sentence when he realizes San isn’t alone. “Oh, hey! I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Your eyes dart to Wooyoung and he smiles. “Wow, you’re really pretty in the daylight—“ San taps him on the chest. “What, I’m just saying! It’s hard to really see faces in the club lighting. Besides, I don’t get the privilege of having private—“

“Okay, that’s—yeah.” San cuts him off and scratches at his head. “Really sorry.”

“You ready?” You let out a sigh before asking Wooyoung. “I can ring you up at the other register before I head to break.”

“Yeah.” You lead them to the smaller checkout stand at the end of the aisle, scanning Wooyoung’s items and bagging up his things as he pays. Throughout the entire time, San is still watching you; subtly biting onto his bottom lip when he can’t help but think of the nights at the club, being intimately close with you— seeing you in a different light than this.

Which, he’s trying not to. He just can’t help it. You are beauty in its purest form, and he wishes he could know more about you.

And you don’t fail to notice. 

The look San has in his eyes is different from what you’re used to seeing at nighttime. It makes you nervous from the butterflies you feel, the curiosity running through your veins— even if the other thoughts in your mind say otherwise.

“Guess we’ll see you around?” Wooyoung smirks before walking out of the shop first.

“See you soon, Y/N.” Just before San walks out, you shut off the part of your brain that keeps spewing negativity and all these other ‘what if’s.’

“W-wait.” 

“Hm?” He hums, his hands in his pocket as he cocks a brow up. You begin to scribble your number down on a random receipt that was left behind, pushing it over to San shortly afterwards.

“Don’t ask for free dances or anything though, I’ll block you.” San chuckles before grabbing the receipt and tucking it into his pocket.

“Don’t want that, now do we?” He winks before stepping out of the shop.

“Cute.” You glare at Jongho and hit him on the arm. “Ouch, what!”

“Why would you say my name around him!”

“You act like he wasn’t gonna find out one way or another, the dude definitely has googly eyes over you.” He crosses his arms and smirks. “Besides, you slipped him your number.”

“Ugh.” You continue to glare at him. “I’m going on my break.”

“So you can text San, hm?” You mouth out a quick ‘fuck off’ before turning on your heel and heading to the break room. The entire scenario hadn't been processed in your mind until now, unsure if giving your number to San was a good idea or not.

You didn’t wanna get attached to him. Not him, of all people. Though, you know you will, and that’s why it feels like a bad decision.

A decision you think you might regret.

The thought blows over when you get home that night, exhausted from your work day and the commute. You hop in the shower and whip up a teriyaki chicken rice bowl with some veggies. You plop onto your couch and turn on the TV, picking up on where you left off on the last episode of the series you were watching. Barely 7 minutes in, a call comes through on your phone, your eyes widening at the name flashing across the screen. Just as you briefly debate on answering the call, your hands are already moving towards the phone; swiping right to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” San says on the other line so nonchalantly, as if you two had been talking for years.

“Hi?” You let out a small, nervous chuckle. “What made you call?”

“I just wanted to talk to you and ask how the rest of your day at work went.”

“Oh.” You shrug as if he can see you. “It was alright. Nothing too bad.”

“Yeah? Nobody get on your nerve throughout the day?”

“I also work at a strip club. I think the music shop is very mild when it comes to that.” You joke, making San laugh a bit on the other line. “How was the rest of yours?”

“Good. Wooyoung and I just grabbed something to eat before he brought me home.”

“Where’s home for you?”

“Probably 20 minutes away from the city.” He responds just as you hear dishes clinking in the background. “Did you eat already?”

“I am right now.”

“Oh shit, sorry. Do you want me to call you later? Or, I guess, I can just text you?”

“It’s okay, San. I don’t mind.”

“Mmkay. Just checking.”

“I know you just saw Wooyoung, but you guys aren’t hanging out with the rest of your friends tonight?”

“Believe it or not, we like taking breaks from each other.” He laughs a bit. “No but, Mingi, the really tall one, has a date or whatever tonight.”

“Or whatever?” You laugh.

“He’s weird about these things. Says it’s a date when we all know he’s not really ready to date seriously.”

“Mm, one of those guys. You like that, too?”

“Definitely not. If I really like someone and we hit it off, I’ll pursue them to no end.”

“Mhm.” You find yourself teasing him more. “Cute. Have you guys known each other for long?”

“Me and Wooyoung grew up together. Our parents are close, too. We met Hongjoong and Mingi in college.”

“That’s sweet.”

“What about you, Y/N? What about your friends? Tell me more about yourself. I meant it when I said I wanna get to know you.” You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, even though every bone in your body is telling you to continue keeping your guard up.

“Ah, did you? Cause it definitely sounded like a line.” You snort.

“It’s not just a line. Seriously.”

“I honestly don’t know what to tell you. I don’t have an interesting story.” You poke at your food before taking a small bite.

“Don’t say that. I find you interesting no matter what.”

“You say that now.”

“I’ll say it later, too.” He reassures you.

“I– I don’t know. I’m not close to my family after the decisions I’ve made, and friends left my side especially after I started working at the club more. Jongho is really the only person who has stayed by my side since we were younger.”

“I’m sorry. Why aren’t they your friends anymore?”

“I guess they just think I’m dumb for not going to school and for settling at the club.”

“I mean, that’s not really fair? It’s not dumb if it wasn’t what you wanted.”

“Yeah, well. They didn’t think I’d take dance that seriously.”

“You’re really good at it.” You chuckle hearing his response. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Wish I could tell you. My family is in the same boat. My older sister graduated from college and started her own lab after finishing her postdoctoral appointment. Imagine how much my family looks down on me. I struggled for awhile and Jongho helped me out a lot.”

“I’m glad you at least have him.”

“I am too.”

“What else do you like to do?”

“San, are you sure you don’t have anything else to do tonight?” He laughs. “What about your family?”

“Swear. My family is fine, they’re doing their own thing.”

“Do they live around here too?”

“Nope, maybe an hour or so away? I have an older sister too, but she’s overseas right now. She’s in the fashion industry.” He lets out a small sigh. “I genuinely wanted to call you and talk to you after seeing you today.”

“You’re such a mystery.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. You just are. I see you at the club a couple of times, then I see you at the shop. Now we’re on the phone. It’s just funny how things play out.”

“Nothing mysterious about it. Maybe it’s just meant to play out that way.”

“What’s meant to play out that way?”

“Us.” You pause. Mainly because you couldn’t believe this is how things were meant to play out with San. Why was he everywhere and nowhere at the same time? Why was he calling you and trying to get to know you? And what if it was meant to play out this way? It could either mean two things— one, San was meant to play some sort of good in your life.

Or two, San was meant to break your heart and teach you yet another lesson in this crazy universe.

You weren’t sure what to think of it all, if you were even ready to figure out what all of this meant.

But, at this moment in time, all the regrets and thoughts continue to brush over your head because you like hearing San’s voice and you like talking to him outside of the club. You are intrigued, and you can’t say you aren’t keen on finding out what this is.

So, you continue to talk to San. 30 minutes turns into an hour; slipping into bed with San still on the other line. It’s easy to talk to him and you like that he initiates most of the conversation. He doesn’t judge you and he doesn’t pressure you into talking about things you don’t feel comfortable diving into right now. He doesn’t put the focus on himself much and he listens. You find yourself giggling, tossing and turning under the sheets— thoughts exploring uncharted territories.

San almost feels like a bad decision; a decision you think you might regret.

For tonight, you’ll take it. You’ll take this for what it is, and you’ll take San for who he is. You’ll find out what his role is in your life and why this is playing out the way it is for the both of you.

Maybe he is good.

Maybe he is a heartbreaker.

Or maybe San is meant to be San, a passing moment in your life that eventually just ends.

Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out. Even if it's something you might regret later on.

“Can I tell you something Y/N?” He asks just as you feel the exhaustion hitting your body.

“Mhm?”

“You’re really beautiful. I like seeing you, especially on stage. You know how to drive people crazy.”

San continues to text and call you, just to ask if you’re doing okay— to let you know he always looks forward to seeing you. Small smiley faces, goodmorning’s and goodnight’s, dropping by with food or just to say hi at the music shop; you can’t help but feel the butterflies in your tummy grow when it comes to San. 

You’re not sure if you despise it or not.

Jongho says you should just see where it goes and tries to reassure you by telling you what’s meant to be, will be, and that you shouldn’t read too much into things right now. 

Keep doing you as you have, and continue to move forward.

But, it’s a lot easier said than done. Especially when you don’t understand what San wants out of you. He’s respected your boundaries through text, not asking for free dances or nudes, only keeping it brief to check in on you sometimes. Yet, at the club, he’s handsy. He’s vocalized how much he wants you and how much he wishes he could know more about you outside of the club.

San is an enigma.

You count in your head as you slowly take steps forward on stage, trying your hardest not to get distracted.

One, two.

Twirl around the pole.

Three, four.

Fall into the splits.

Five, six.

Bounce.

You get back onto your fours, shaking ass for the men lined up near the stage constantly tossing bills your way and shoving it under the ties of your bikini bottoms. It isn’t long before the main stage is where the most activity is happening— the club incredibly busy tonight with tons of celebrations. You’ve just stepped out of a VIP booth, your client paying you more than you could ask for by simply requesting if you could just work the pole for him. You gladly oblige, making it one less man to give a lap dance to before your shift is over. 

Besides, you can’t help but think of San.

And the moment you start to think about him, is the exact moment you find him lingering in the club with his boys— eyes scanning the stage and room before they finally find you near the VIP booths. It’s been a minute since they’ve stopped by. San has mentioned that he and his friends have just been swamped at work and that he can’t wait to let some steam out soon. He’s in all black tonight; black fitted slacks, boots, a black-button up with his chest partially exposed. He’s got a silver chain around his neck, and god, does the sight immediately do things to you.

They order a round of drinks before San finds himself at one of the seats next to the stage. He’s entertaining the crowd a bit, joining in when your coworker steals the stage and grabs the attention from the men around you. You don’t mind because it gives you the opportunity to slip away and take a breather, maybe run for a quick water break before you sway your hips in San’s direction. 

And sure enough, he’s been waiting. Like he always is.

Just as you sweet talk your way through the crowd and grab a few extra tips for it, San gently wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls you onto his lap. He smirks at you, eyes glazed over from all the alcohol he’s already downed.

“Mm, I’ve been waiting.” He says. “Can I have you?” The question sends shivers down your spine, his touch against your hip electrifying. 

“Depends.” You tease as he slips a few bills into your bra. “Can you handle it tonight? You’re pretty drunk.”

“Can always handle you, babygirl.” He says in your ear. You instantly stand to your feet and grab his hand, leading him to one of the free VIP booths. As soon as you pull the curtains close and try to work your way over to the pole, San pulls you back onto his lap— hands caressing your sides as you fix your position and properly straddle him. “Need you here, not there.”

“Thought you liked watching me work the pole.”

“I do, but not as much as I like watching you on me.”

“You’re incredibly suave tonight, what’s gotten into you?” You giggle, feeling San’s hands grope your ass.

“Just missed you.”

“We’ve been talking quite a bit.”

“I know, but it’s not the same as seeing you.” 

“You just missed the club.”

“Nah. You.” He corrects you. Something about San is different tonight, but you can’t say you dislike it. He’s a little more straightforward, a little more bolder, a little more open about his want— his need— for you. Especially when he caresses your tits; palm gently gliding over before giving your nipples a good pinch. Especially when his lips ghost over your neck, jaw, finally finding its way to your ear. Especially when he whispers about how pretty you look and how he wishes he could kiss you.

“Who said you couldn’t?” He pauses for a moment to look at you, really look at you, before taking his hand to your cheek and bringing you down to his lips. The way your lips crash is intense, full of lust.

Want.

Need.

A craving to be fulfilled.

The kiss easily turns wet, sloppy; San’s hands digging half crescents into your hips as he guides you to work your hips against him. He lets out a shaky breath in between, lips now traveling down to your jaw, neck.

“Fuck.” You hear him groan against your skin, right before his tongue glides against the surface; nibbling and sucking gently to soothe the mark.

“San.” You call his name as he continues down to the base of your neck, collarbone— lips now pressed against your inner breast. Part of you feels so, so good in San’s arms. But the other half feels so incredibly conflicted about the whole situation solely because San is an enigma. You aren’t sure if it’s enough to sway you away. Reality hits when the crowd outside roars in cheers, pulling you away from the sweet daydream, the sweet fog that temporarily clouded your vision. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you gently pry him away and push him back. “San.” You repeat.

“Yeah?”

“We shouldn’t.” He licks his lips, eyes still glued onto yours. Surprisingly, he doesn’t fight back, no. Instead, he kisses you one last time— lips locked until one of you pulls away first. You hop off his lap and walk off towards the curtain, giving him one last look before leaving him alone. “See you out there, okay?” Is all you manage to say. San knows better than to do this here, of all places, but he can’t seem to help himself. He’s stuck on you, has this pull to you, and he wants it all. He doesn’t fight though, because he should be doing better. This probably looks all wrong and confusing to you and he doesn’t mean to do that. He’s just no good at this, no good at approaching you— you, so sexy and so independent.

It’s something about you, and he’s losing his mind.

“Shoot your fucking shot already.” Hongjoong comes around the corner from the bathroom, running into San as he exits the VIP booth.

“What?” He asks, still a bit discombobulated after the short but intense session in the booth.

“Your girl.”

“She’s not my girl.”

“Shut up.” He says, forehead furrowed. “We come to the club and all you do is look for her. Can’t tell me there isn’t anything more to it.”

“I don’t know.”

“Just do it. What do you have to lose? You’re not getting any younger.” Hongjoong snickers, but it quickly fades when San’s expression hasn’t changed. “You’re just trying to fuck, right?” San finally meets his eyes but he doesn’t say anything, and it kinda freaks Hongjoong out. “What the fuck, San?”

“What?”

“You actually like her? You can’t be serious. I thought it was just a one time thing–”

“What the fuck does it matter?” San lets out a small chuckle to play off the whole thing, but frankly, he’s trying his hardest to not let Hongjoong ruin his mood. “Look, I’m not trying to think about this here. Ready?” He nods towards the bar, finding Mingi and Wooyoung amongst the crowd.

For the rest of the night, you do what you do best— deflect and avoid. You’re not sure how long you can keep doing this around San, especially every time you have an encounter with him. You start questioning yourself so much that it gets to you, that the reality of the situation starts dawning on you even though you have no foundation to back things up. But, you’d like to think that you haven’t fallen too deep; you could still swim up to the surface if you needed to, and you’d like to keep it that way.

However, that feels like a far reach when your shift ends. You feel like you’ve escaped for the umpteenth time until you realize you really haven’t, and that maybe, San was always going to be an enigma you were meant to figure out.

“Y/N.” You hear a familiar voice call for you as you walk down the street. You’re still walking at a steady pace, but the steps behind you seem to be catching up fairly quickly. “Y/N—” You turn and place your hand over his mouth, making San furrow his brows at you.

“We’re still nearby. I’d like it if you didn’t go yelling my name around like that.” He chuckles as you let him go, continuing your walk home.

“Some people should know your name by now, right?”

“And the majority that don’t?” You look at him. “Let’s keep it that way.”

“Sorry, beautiful.” You playfully roll your eyes, trying to keep your guard up.

“What’re you doing, San?”

“Walking you home.”

“What about your friends?” You pause in your steps, creating enough distance between you and the club by now.

“They can handle their own.” He shrugs. “Let me walk you.”

“Then, what?”

“Then at least I know you’re safe and sound.” You let out a breath before continuing to walk with San. You aren’t gonna lie— having San’s company makes you feel ten times safer, and you feel comfortable having him alongside you. Usually, you rush your walk just to get home in one piece. Tonight, you can finally enjoy the crisp, night time air for a bit longer. 

Tonight, you can finally enjoy the stars for a bit longer.

Tonight, you can enjoy San for a bit longer.

“San?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t you get tired of going to the club?” He shakes his head and laughs.

“Not really. It’s kinda fun. Beats going to a regular club.”

“Can I ask?” He nods. “What do you do for work?”

“I just work for a tech company in their finance department.”

“Interesting.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know tech guys liked strip clubs so much.”

“Change of scenery.” You chuckle, easing up a bit in San’s company. “Is this your usual walk home?”

“Mhm. It’s not so bad.”

“Yeah, but it’s also like.. 3am.” San looks down at you. “Why don’t you just take an Uber home or something?”

“Why, when it’s within walking distance?”

“Safety reasons. You don’t feel scared?”

“Not really. I’ve done this walk for years now.”

“Why don’t I just bring you home from now on?” You laugh.

“Even if you don’t go to the club?”

“Especially when I don’t go to the club.”

“That’s too much work. I can’t ask you to do that. Plus, you work a regular 9-5 I’m assuming.”

“But, I’m offering? I don’t really trickle in right at 9 for work, as long as I make my 8 or so hours for the day. Plus, I can work from home sometimes.” You don’t say anything, so he quickly follows up with: “I know the walk is close, but it makes me feel weird about letting you be out here this late after work.”

“Hm.” You look at him.

“Let me.” 

“Hey, just so we remember this— you offered and put that out on the table. Not me.” He laughs.

“Got it, your honor.”

“Are you not cold?”

“No. The cold is helping a lot right now.”

“How drunk were you today?”

“Pretty drunk.” He laughs. “It’s been a very long couple of weeks. I probably sound like a broken record but there’s no better way to put it. Lots of deadlines to meet with little time to prep.”

“Ah, the surprise deadlines. I’m sure it went fine, right?”

“Yeah, sure. After all the stress they put me through first.” San snorts.

“It’s done now. You made it.” You turn the corner and continue to walk down the path until you reach your building— a small, quaint building in the middle of the residential area. You lead San to your door at the far right corner of the building. “Welp, this is me.” You turn to look at him and he gives you a tiny, toothless smile.

“Cute.” You awkwardly fiddle with your fingers, feeling bad about turning San away. A part of you genuinely wants his company outside of the club and he seems to want the same, too.

“D-do you wanna come in, by any chance?”

“Only if you’re okay with it.”

“I am.” You turn to unlock the door. “Sorry if it’s super small and not aesthetically pleasing to look at.”

“Y/N, don’t apologize.” He steps in and steps out of his shoes, eyes wandering around your tiny studio. “It’s nice. I like the plants.” He eyes the plants near the shelf that blocks off your bed from the couch, TV and ‘living room’ area.

“Thanks. I try to take really good care of them.” He chuckles as he plops onto the couch.

“It’s a cozy space. It’s perfect for you, no?”

“I like it. I’ve been here for the past year and a half or so? Jongho’s aunt is the landlord and he did a lot to convince her to let me have this place for decent rent.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah. He was probably tired of me.” You grab two water bottles from your fridge. “I lived with him for a long time. We shared rooms.”

“He’s a really good friend.”

“He is.” You stand near him and hand him the water bottle. “Make yourself at home, I’m just gonna take a quick shower.”

“Can I join?” 

“Do you wanna be tossed out?” He laughs.

“Kidding.” He pulls out his phone and begins to scroll through his social media. “I’ll wait patiently.” You grab your shirt and shorts before running into the bathroom to take a quick body shower, excited to rinse off the night from your skin. It only takes you about 15 minutes to fully get ready for bed, San still waiting patiently on your couch. His eyes shift from his screen to you—

Slowly ogling your body,

Down to your legs.

“Feel better?”

“Mhm.” You plop next to him, watching as he lets his head rest on the back of the couch. “Tired?”

“Yeah.”

“You should go home and get rest.”

“Do you want me to go home?” He looks at you and you aren’t really sure how to answer the question. Yes, you do, so San can rest.

But no, you don’t, because you like having him here.

You can’t help but remember the events that transpired earlier at the club and what it would feel like to have his lips on you again—

“No, not really.”

“Good, cause I wanna keep you company for a little longer.”

“San?”

“Yeah, pretty girl?”

“When you kissed me earlier—” You lick your lips and swallow the lump in your throat. “Did you kiss me because you were drunk at the club, or because you genuinely wanted to?”

“I told you I really wanted to.” You sit and look at him, unsure of how you feel about his response. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know, San. I can’t read you.”

“You don’t have to.” He sits up, his face only inches away from yours. “It’s okay to tell me you don’t believe me, Y/N. I’d rather you be honest than not.”

“Then, no. I don’t.” He lets out a tiny, breathy laugh, a small smirk perked up on the corner of his lips.

“Fair enough.” He says lowly, eyes scanning your lips, your face and all its features. “Then, will you give me another chance to show you so you do believe me?” His thumb gently caresses your chin before grazing over your bottom lip. “Hm?” He hums. You nod, giving him leverage to dip down further, lips locked with yours for another soft, passionate kiss. It quickly deepens when San slips his tongue in; his fighting for dominance against yours. You find yourself hurrying to position yourself onto his lap, hands grabbing at his shirt. He gently nibbles on your jaw before making his way back down to your neck, no longer hesitating to suck on certain spots to leave his mark. His hands make their way up your shirt, palming at your tits while you fiddle with the buttons of his shirt. “Let’s get this off, baby.” The petname sends shivers down your spine, making you easily oblige to his request.

You shed off his shirt just as he tosses yours to the side, mouth instantly latching onto your perked bud. His tongue moves in a circular motion, pulling back with a pop before moving onto the next. You let out a moan when he flicks around your nipple, sucking gently before trailing his lips a bit further down.

“Hold onto me. Need you on the bed.” He huskily says as you wrap your arms and legs around him, San’s hands coming down to grip your ass. He takes you to your bed, wasting no time to get rid of the rest of the clothing sitting on your bodies. Everything feels so intimately rushed with San because there’s so much desire, so many thoughts and cravings to be fulfilled. He continues to kiss you, slipping two digits into you to test the waters— to see how wet you are, how tight you are. “Jesus.” He mumbles against your lips. 

You are dripping.

“Sannie.” The nickname accidently slips from your lips again, making him smile against you.

“So cute when you say my name like that.” He lets out a breath. “You’re so wet for me. Think you can take me now?” He’s pumping himself and the sight makes you drool. He’s perfectly built— toned abs and biceps, skin dipped in honey, a perfectly thick cock. You nod, eager to get a taste of San, eager to see what he’ll do to you.

“Need you.”

“Oh, you do?” He has that smug smirk on his face just as positions himself at your entrance. “Shit, I don’t have a condom—” 

“Here.” You quickly dig through your nightstand and grab a condom you got last week. Dude who tipped you off thought he was slick by throwing a condom in there, thinking he could get some.

At least it came in handy to your liking.

San quickly rips the packet open, throwing the condom on before lowering himself back down onto you. You let out a broken moan when he slips himself in, slowly burying himself to the hilt. His breath is hot against your neck, the both of you releasing shaky exhales while you get used to the feeling. He begins to rock his hips at a slow, steady pace; mumbling curses against your skin as he adjusts to your walls sucking him in.

“God, you feel so good— fuck, Y/N. You’re so hot.” He grunts, his thoughts running wild about seeing you at the club, getting his lap dances.

To this.

Everything about you drives San wild and he’s not even sure how he can explain the feeling. So sexy, so independent; attitude on na-na while worrying about yourself and yourself only.

San starts to fuck you faster, hips pounding against you and echoing in the studio. You’re both probably a bit too loud for your neighbors right now, but you truly could care less. San was driving himself into you at a delicious pace, hitting you in all the right spots.

“San.” You call his name, hands tugging at the hair sitting on the nape of his neck. “Like that— like that.” You whimper. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah, baby?” He sits up to pound against you at a different angle, hands at your thighs to spread you completely open. He loves seeing the way your slickness coats his cock, his head tilting back in immense pleasure. “Wanna cum for me, pretty girl? Wanna cum all over this dick? So good for me.” He praises, and praises, thumb coming down to work your clit. 

“Oh, god.” You moan, hands gripping at the sheets as you feel yourself tipping over the edge the more San fucks into you, the more he rubs at your clit, the more your hips match his movements. You have never been this turned on by someone— at least, not in a very long time. San is so, so attractive. He is suave, and he knows what he’s doing with you. “So close.” San continues to praise you, telling you how beautiful you look underneath him.

How pretty you are.

How badly he wants you.

How you always drive him crazy.

And if it wasn’t for the constant praising, if it wasn’t for the way his hips worked so well against yours, if it wasn’t for the way San was skillfully rubbing at your clit— you wouldn’t be close to unraveling so quickly.

“San, I’m—“ You barely make out before you come undone beneath him, mouth slacked open as a silent moan leaves your lips; body trembling in his grip. This gives him momentum to drive his hips into you faster, harder; uncoiling shortly afterwards.

“Shit, Y/N. Feels too good.” San groans, unloading into the condom. His hands tightly grip your thighs as he gives it one, two more thrusts before coming back down from his high.

Everything feels so beautiful, yet intimately rushed. So, so good yet equally so, so bad for you.

Before you can even say anything, San lowers himself to give you a kiss on the lips. He kisses you for awhile before slipping himself out and grabbing a napkin to wrap the condom in. He quietly takes another few napkins to help clean up, wiping you gently before moving onto himself and plopping onto your bed next to you.

“You okay?” He asks, eyes closed as he regulates his breathing.

“Mhm.”

“Good?”

“Maybe.” He chuckles at your response, pulling you into his arms while you pull the sheets over the both of you. “Definitely worn out, though.”

“Yeah, same.” He kisses the top of your head. “Mind if I crash here for a bit? I don’t mind leaving too, if it makes you uncomfortable. Just let me know.”

“No, you’re good. I don’t mind, San.”

“Was hoping you’d say that.” You chuckle, adjusting your position to comfortably lay on San and fall asleep on his chest.

This is when you start to regret ever giving San the attention, your number, everything. 

Because now that you know him a little more, San has become your kryptonite.

After that night, you woke up to an empty bedside— almost no signs of San entirely in your studio. Though it made your heart clench a little bit, part of you knew you wouldn’t be waking up to him.

For work, for other reasons.

Other reasons being that maybe, he really just did want you the one time. And the thought lingered for a little longer when he took awhile to text you that day, your mind running through all the worst possible scenarios during the hours.

▹ FLASHBACK

You slept like a baby after what felt like years, warmth of the sheets still engulfing you as your eyes flutter open. The sun leaves a trail down your sheets, everything quiet; still. When you turn, you find that San is gone— the dip on that side of the bed long gone, his clothes gone, waterbottle gone.

It was like he was never here in the first place.

Your clothes are set neatly off on the edge of the bed instead of the floor. And god, it feels kinda lonely without San. It’s your first telltale sign of attachment, though you know you shouldn’t be at that point after one intimate night with him.

But, it’s hard.

You check your phone and there aren’t any new texts besides Jongho and his need to send you random Instagram reels or TikToks. You lay in bed for a bit longer, letting out a soft sigh when you catch yourself wondering about San in that way. You shut your eyes for a little more, hoping you’ll be able to shake off the ‘what if’s’ with a couple of more hours of sleep. 

Meanwhile, San tiredly walks into the office a bit past 10am, hopping straight into his first meeting of the day. It lasts an hour before he’s finally able to walk to the kitchen to grab his first [and much needed] cup of coffee.

“What the fuck happened to you last night, Mr. Suave?” Wooyoung comes beside him, waiting to get his cup of coffee refilled.

“I walked Y/N home.” San smirks.

“Yeah, obviously.” Wooyoung slightly glares at him. “You’re not slick, dumbass. You fucked, didn’t you?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Wow, I’m your bestfriend and you’re asking me that question?” Wooyoung lets out a little ‘pfft’ before playfully shoving San aside to finally get his refill. “I’ll take that as a yes. What’s the deal with you and Miss Crimson, anyway?”

“I like seeing her.” San shrugs. “I like her company.”

“You barely know her outside of the strip club.”

“I believe that’s the point of getting to know her.” San says in a very matter-of-a-fact tone.

“Dude, I didn’t think you’d actually go for her.” San raises his brow.

“Why is everyone saying that? What’s so wrong about it?”

“Nothing! I really just thought you were trying toot it and boot it.”

“Hm.” All San can do is hum while he stirs the stirrer around in his cup. 

“But what about Noelle? You guys have that weird, toxic ex relationship thingy going on.” Wooyoung almost visibly shudders at the thought of their complicated relationship. So much back and forth, lying, getting in each other’s beds just to fulfill a need even though they don’t mean it for shit.

Yeah, toxic.

“Yeah, no. I’m done with that.”

“Mm, but you’ve said that before. You mean it? Like you’re actually over her because you genuinely like Y/N? Or, you’re done with it until you cave again?”

“I’m done with it.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Wooyoung takes a sip of his coffee. “I saw her texting you again.”

“I’m trying to tell her it’s done with.”

“Don’t see the urgency though, Mr. I-like-Y/N-and-I-enjoy-her-company. Out here breaking hearts in true Choi San fashion.” 

“Don’t say shit like that.” 

“Okay.” Wooyoung laughs, leaving him in the kitchen. San sighs to himself, a little tired, stressed even, about the whole Noelle situation. Truthfully, Wooyoung is right. Him and Noelle have too much history, too much baggage. Too much of that toxic shit. San is partially to blame because he does crawl back to her, he does cave pretty easily. And it’s not even because San wants to get back with her, no. He knows they can’t work out. All they do is bring out the worst in each other. 

But, Noelle is the only thing he’s known for awhile. She fills his void pretty well because it’s familiar territory. 

He’s done with it, though. He swears. He’s confused and not entirely sure where he sees this going right now, but you are intriguing. He sees you and his curiosity skyrockets. He wants to know more about you, and after last night, he feels like he can’t get enough of you. He wants more, and he’ll continue to show you that.

▹ END

“Yo.” Jongho’s eyes are barely peeking over the screen on the FaceTime call.

“What’s up?”

“What’re you doing?”

“Just hanging out. Eating some lunch.” You continue to poke at the salad you made. “How’s work?”

“Good, I guess. I’m grabbing some food right now from the shop down the street. How’s loverboy been?”

“Would you stop calling him that?”

“Well, what else is he, Y/N?” Jongho laughs a bit. 

“Not my loverboy.”

“Says you even though he drops by to bring you food and calls you nonstop.”

“He doesn’t call me nonstop.”

“Sorry, once a day.” He gives you a look. “Have you seen him lately?”

“No. He went to the club once last week. Said he’s been busy again with work. I feel like it’s something else, though.”

“Mmm.” Jongho hums. “You’re overthinking.”

“I’m not.”

“I can hear you from here. What is it?”

“He’s just been kinda weird lately.” 

“Distant?”

“Yeah. Maybe it is just work.”

“He’s probably just got way too much on his plate.”

“I shouldn’t even be thinking about it like this too much.” You finish up your salad. “It’s fine. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Mm, okay. Well. Are you doing your usual shift at the club later?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s it been? Wanna hang out tomorrow before your shift?” He slightly pushes the phone away after placing his order and paying at the cashier.

“It’s the same old.” You sigh. “I’m down for that though.”

“Okay. I’ll come get you.” 

“Jongho.”

“Yeah?”

“Seeing San makes me question myself. I don’t know if that’s good or not.”

“In what way?”

“I just feel ashamed. It makes me wanna look for a different job and leave the club.”

“Well, okay. Are you still happy at the club, or do you wanna do something else?”

“I’m happy but I feel like I could do better.”

“Because of San or because of you? Kinda important to differentiate. If you’re still happy but feel like you could do better for you, then great! But, if you wanna do better just to impress San and do it for him, then no.”

“I feel so stupid. I mean, he drops me off at home. We see each other from time to time–”

“Have sex with each other from time to time–”

“Jongho!”

“What?” He laughs.

“You’re in public!”

“So?! It’s natural human behavior. My god.” He laughs a bit more. “I’m not wrong though.”

“It’s so dumb. I don’t even know what this is. Probably not even something to be questioning my life like this.”

“Has San ever said anything to make you feel that way?”

“No. In fact, he’s supportive about everything and didn’t make me feel terrible about my past decisions.”

“Then you’re overthinking again.” He thanks the staff before grabbing his bag of food. “Y/N, what did I tell you? Just let things be. Don’t make any rash decisions or start assuming things if everything is fine.”

“But is everything fine?”

“It sounds like it to me. He seems like a nice guy. You might wanna have that conversation about what you two are later on if things really haven’t progressed yet, but otherwise, I truly think he’s a nice guy and he’s probably just busy.”

“Jongho–” Suddenly, a few knocks come to your door, throwing you off guard mid-call.

“Guess that’s my cue to go. Text me about tomorrow.”

“Alright.” You say right before ending the call. You set your bowl aside in the kitchen before looking through the peephole on the door. To your surprise [or not], San is standing there on his phone with a small bag in hand.

“Hey.” You say, as you let him in. He smiles, but San doesn’t respond right away with the same enthusiasm. Instead, he shifts his attention to the text that came through on his phone before tucking it away and smiling at you.

“Hey. Sorry.” He hands you a small bag. “I bring pastries.”

“Mm, more pastries.” You tease with a giggle. “Thanks. What brings you here?”

“Sorry, I meant to text you but I forgot. I just wanted to see you since I haven’t been able to for a bit.” He kisses you on the cheek before making his way to your couch.

“Work’s been crazy, hm?” He sighs and leans his head back.

“Uh, yeah. It has been. But, it’s finally the weekend and I can kick back for a bit.” His hand comes up to run your back while you dig through the pastries he bought. “Did you eat already?”

“Mm, yeah. I just made a small salad. I’m not too hungry. Was on the phone with Jongho for a bit.”

“I see. You should eat a little more before your shift.”

“I will.” You look at him. “Are you guys going to the club tonight?” He nods.

“Mingi said he needs it.” You chuckle.

“Do you need it, too?”

“Kinda, but I’m here with you already and I get you all to myself.”

“You do that at the club, too.” You tease.

“Can’t help it.” San quietly looks at you while his arm is loosely around your waist. You observe him for a bit, trying to see if you can read into him or find any obvious signs of what else has been stressing him lately. He’s the same, except more tired, not as talkative or playful like he usually is. Your gut tells you it’s something deeper than work and you’re not sure how you’ll figure him out.

“San.”

“Mhm?” 

“You sure it’s just been work stressing you out?” He leans forward to meet your gaze with a small smile.

“Yeah. I’m sorry I haven’t really been myself lately.”

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.”

“I missed you, though. I really missed you.” His finger is tracing soft circles against your hip. He dips forward to place a gentle kiss right below your earlobe, his soft, pink lips sending tingles down your spine. You shouldn’t be buckling this fast around San, but god, does he have you wrapped around his finger. He places a kiss at the corner of your lips and you instantly feel like jelly.

You missed him, too.

And you want him. Badly.

Before you know it, San is sitting up against the wall, watching you bounce on his dick like the good girl you are. He’s watching through hooded eyes; glued to the way your tits bounce, the way his cock slides in and out of you, the way you moan for him like all of this was made for you and you only.

“Fuck.” San groans, hands on your hips to guide you and slam you down onto his length. “You know how to ride me so well.” He watches as you begin to roll your hips against him, taking more control while riding him; it's pure ecstasy. Your moans, your movements, everything about it is just.. addicting. 

You have such a captivating presence, and San can't help but lose himself in you.

“Baby, if you keep working me like that, you’ll make me cum.” He moans, head resting back against the wall. Your hand rests on his neck, giving it a gentle squeeze as you feel yourself bubbling with pleasure. Your clit is rubbing against him deliciously, and you can’t help but sit back and ride him at a different angle. 

“Sannie.” You moan loudly. “Ohhhhshit.” Your words melt together when you suddenly feel yourself unraveling quicker than expected. “I’m cumming— fuck, fuck, fuck—“ You repeat like a mantra, hips working sloppily against him as you come undone; the sounds bouncing off the walls nothing short of pornographic.

“That’s my good girl.” San loves watching the way your face contorts in pleasure, the way you moan loudly, the way he could hear how wet you are. Once you’ve come down from your high, San wastes no time getting you on your fours— face down, ass up. He gives your ass a good knead, spitting onto your pussy before lining himself back up at your entrance. He pushes himself in and works at a steady rhythm, giving your ass a good smack. You let out another moan, tears pricking your lids at how sensitive you’re feeling right now. He’s fucking into you so good, your ass is clapping against him. “You look so good like this, baby. You like it when I fuck you like this, hm?” He gives your ass another smack, cheek red from the impact. “Does it feel good?”

“So good, San.” He moans loudly as he continues to piston into you.

“Your pussy was made for me.” He groans. “Whose is it, Y/N?”

“Y-yours.” You choke, cheek digging deep into the mattress. 

“Louder, babygirl. I can’t hear you.”

“Yours!”

“There you go.” He grunts, ass feeling numb from San fucking into you. The way he’s driving into you and hitting your spot at this angle feels so good, you feel the pleasure bubbling in your pit again. You raise yourself up a bit to rub at your clit, pushing your orgasm forward as San’s movements begin to get sloppy. “Shit, Y/N.”

“San, cum for me.” You egg him on as he begins to pant. Hearing him praise you and call your name pushes you over the edge once more, hands gripping at the sheets while you shudder from the second orgasm taking over. San quickly pulls out and unloads onto your ass, back.

“God.” He huffs as he gives himself one last pump and pants heavily. “So good for me. You okay, pretty girl?” His hand comes up your back, leaving a random trail of kisses along the way.

“Yeah.” You let out a breath.

“Let me clean you up. Don’t move.” He quickly runs to your bathroom to grab some wipes. “Gonna be kinda cold. I’m sorry.” He apologizes in advance before taking a wipe to your back.

“That feels kinda nice.” San chuckles, allowing you to lay back on your bed first before slipping in next to you post-cleanup.

“You feel nice.” You laugh, laying your head on his chest while he grabs his phone.

“So, what time are you guys heading to the club tonight?”

“I don’t know. Probably between 9-10pm?” 

“You know there’s an event tonight, right?”

“I heard.” San laughs. “Some male dancers are guesting at the club?”

“Yeah. They’ll be on the second stage, though.” San nods, a few texts coming into his phone. You can’t help but glaze over the previews, back to back texts coming in from a ‘Noelle.’ The messages aren’t too lengthy, but she is texting him quite a few times and the previews alone are enough to make your stomach twist and turn.

It’s making you anxious, and for some reason, your gut tells you this Noelle is significant to San. 

He’s not trying to pay attention to it right now though, and it’s probably just because he’s in your company post-sex. He briefly looks at the messages at the top, thumb coming up to swipe them away. 

“Is it just you guys?” You ask, wondering if San would open up to you otherwise.

“Uh, yeah. Pretty sure. Unless Mingi invites other people.”

“Mmm, okay.”

“I’m excited to see you on stage again.” He looks down at you with a smirk. 

“Yeah right.”

“Swear. Everyone knows I’m only there for you. It’s kinda nice to show it off.”

“Show what off?”

“That you’re mine.” He winks, making your heart melt into a puddle. You hate that San gives you these signals, but there hasn’t been much to it besides seeing each other occasionally outside of the club and fucking each other’s brains out. 

“Don’t say shit you don’t mean.”

“Who said I didn’t mean it?!” You shake your head and turn to your side, now going through your own phone. San gives you a kiss on the shoulders, hand coming up to rub your arm while he continues to plant random kisses at the nape of your neck, below your ear, jaw.

“Sannie, what are you doing?” You giggle, ticklish from the feeling of his lips against your skin.

“Kinda want you again.”

“Are you serious?” You turn to look at him and he smirks.

“Can’t help it. You drive me crazy.” His hand comes down to your thigh, giving it a squeeze. “Wanna keep taking care of you.”

“Do you, now?” You tease, letting San continue to kiss you; hand coming down and ghosting your clit. You decide to let San have you once more before he’s struggling to part from your lips, even as he’s about to head out the door. 

You blush watching him leave, excited to show off and see him tonight.

The night comes rather quickly because the club is incredibly packed with all sorts of people making their way in to see all of the dancers. You’re having to entertain on stage, deliver drinks and give a few private dances. It’s nothing beyond what you’re already used to doing, but the clientele is booming tonight and you’re constantly moving around all ends of the club.

It’s a little past 10pm when you catch wind of Mingi, Hongjoong, San and Wooyoung. And for a minute, your eyes light up. San immediately plops onto a chair, legs spread as he smirks. He gestures for you to come over with his finger and lightly taps his lap, making you giggle to yourself while you continue to perform a few tricks on the pole. 

“Gorgeous.” San eyes the high-cut bodysuit sitting on your body, showing off all your curves beautifully. 

“You made it.” You crouch down in front of him, hands trailing up his legs.

“Of course, why would I miss out some more?” He winks, stuffing a few bills in the slit of your bodysuit while you stand lean towards his ear. 

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“You?” You laugh.

“Cliché.”

“Kidding, baby.” He bites onto his bottom lip. “Can we get shots of whiskey?”

“All four of you?”

“Yes please, pretty lady.” Hongjoong smirks. “Bodysuit looks good on you.”

“Openly hitting on San’s woman is crazy.” Wooyoung laughs loudly.

“Just complimenting her.” 

“Yeah, keep it up.” San teases Hongjoong.

“Thank you. I’ll be back.” You smile at Hongjoong before stepping over to the bar to grab their shots. At this point, it feels like everything happens so quickly; the following moments, the rest of the night— all a blur. When you return to the four, they’ve added a few more to the group. And this time, it’s a group of 5 girls— one that is in a heated conversation with San off to the side. You slow your pace, watching as she clings around his waist, but he gently shoves her off and shakes his head. He heads back to his seat and she welcomes herself on his lap, ignoring everything that he had just done to her moments ago. San doesn’t seem entirely pleased being that he’s been trying to distance himself from her, but to no avail— you’ve already returned and he panics.

“Here.” You hand them their drinks, handing San’s last.

“Noelle, seriously. Can you please get off my lap?” Noelle. You can’t help but feel your heart fall to the pit of your stomach, though you’re trying your best to brush it off in the heat of the moment. 

“You’re such a killjoy.” She whines, sitting on the edge of the chair. 

“Thank you, love.” His look is unreadable when he reaches for his glass and so is yours. But, San knows you saw everything and he knows it all looks wrong. It, all of this, must seem so fucked up to you right now and he wishes he could just pull you aside to clear up the air.

“Thank you, Miss Crimson.” Mingi raises his shot glass to you.

“Is that the stripper San is into?” You overhear one of the girls ask, followed by a:

“He’s not serious, right? Her?” Noelle scoffs and you subtly roll your eyes, getting ready to head back to the bartender. You weren’t gonna let this girl get to you. Not today.

“Have a good night.” Is what you tell Wooyoung in passing, making him flash San a look shortly afterwards.

“Don’t think she’s too happy about Noelle being here.”

“I didn’t know they were actually coming either.” San glares at him, trying his best to shake off Noelle and continue to create some distance. He truthfully didn’t think Noelle and her friends were coming along. Mingi had briefly mentioned the event to them, sliding in a stupid joke about how much San loves coming solely because of you. She didn’t take it lightly, hence why she decided to come along even though their initial plan was to head to the regular club down the street. 

When San sees Noelle, he’s pretty irritated. The last time she was texting him, she was blowing up his phone about shit from the past and their relationship. Quite frankly, he no longer has energy to deal with her and he’s tired of the back and forth. He doesn’t wanna start any issues tonight since it seems too late to brush them off and he doesn’t wanna dampen the mood. He knows how clingy she gets and he knows how she can act when she feels him slowly slipping from her grip, especially if they’re together in person. The last thing San wanted to do was upset you, nor did he want you to think of him as an asshole who only wanted you for one thing. 

That was not his plan.

He knows you’re not happy and he knows he fucked up for even trying to brush this off, for hiding Noelle when he had no reason to.

“You aren’t actually into the stripper are you?” She questions San and he furrows his brows.

“It literally isn’t any of your business.”

“Wow, so you are? I came out tonight, hoping we could—”

“Oh god, enough of that shit. Not here.” Wooyoung sighs. “Let’s go enjoy ourselves, that’s the whole point of tonight, right?” Wooyoung tries to push his bestfriend to the main stage, leaving the girls to enjoy the men on the second stage. You’ve continued to deliver a few drinks around the other room before stepping back onto the main stage. In your peripherals, you can see San eyeing you; almost pleading for you to swing by his way.

Except, you don’t, and you start to entertain a few men on the other side of the stage. San feels his blood boil a little when he sees you giving your attention to another man, knowing full well you were doing this on purpose.

And you were. You weren’t exactly sorry about it.

Because you didn’t have time for this bullshit, and your job still needed to get done. At the end of the day, you are just a dancer. What more could you be to him? You temporarily feed into their fantasies, nothing more, nothing less.

The reality is hitting you more and more tonight.

It makes you feel stupid for having thought otherwise, for letting the possibility live longer than it should’ve.

You’re not sure if you have time to entertain someone who has all that baggage.

San comes around to see you in better view, watching as you crouch down with your legs cocked open; swiping two fingers across your tongue before running it over your [barely] clothed pussy. San clenches his jaw when the man in front of you leans forward with a huge smirk on his lips, holding a roll of bills in his hand.

“Uh oh.” Wooyoung instigates. “I told you so. In true Choi San fashion.”

“Stop that.” Wooyoung shrugs.

“Noelle’s here, hoping she could be the one to go home with you tonight. And that one—“ He points at you over his glass. “Thinks you’re toying with her emotions. Pick a fucking battle.”

“I already told you I was done with the whole Noelle thing. She doesn’t get it for whatever reason.” San slightly groans and clicks his teeth. “Why did Mingi invite them, anyway?”

“I don’t know? I can’t control that boy’s mouth. Besides, you know he’s been trying to get with Donna after those dates didn’t go well.” San sees you dip into a private booth with the guy, shutting the curtains closed without looking his way. He takes a sip of his drink, stepping closer to the stage to try and enjoy himself– ignoring the possibilities of what’s going on behind that curtain.

The club feels suffocating, and he wants out.

Especially when you seem to be taking your time in the booth.

“You wanna head out? Noelle and the girls wanna head down the street now. Said they’re bored of the guys already.” Mingi asks, pointing at the girls getting ready to head out to the next club down the street. 

“Already?” Hongjoong cocks a brow up. “We literally just got here.”

“Yeah, I guess they’re over it.”

“I mean, whatever. Just don’t ask me to leave the other club hella early.” Joong rolls his eyes. “Whose bright fucking idea was to invite them anyway?” He glares at Mingi.

“Sorry! I wanted to be nice and extend the invite. I didn’t think they’d be over it so quickly.”

“Right, you wanted to be nice and get into Donna’s pants.”

“Do you wanna stay back?” Wooyoung asks in San’s ear, but all San can do is shrug. “We don’t have to go with them.”

“Let’s just go, I’ll never hear the end of it if we stay back.” Wooyoung simply looks at him in return.

“Let’s go!” Mingi yells. San subtly looks back to try and see if you’re out of the booth, but Mingi is already shoving him towards the door– towards Noelle and her friends.

“Choi San, hurry up!” Noelle whines as she waits for him.

“Noelle, you don’t have to wait for me. You can go with your friends.”

“Why are you acting so mean tonight?” She tugs on his wrist, but he snatches it out of her grip. “It definitely can’t be about her, right?”

“Go have fun with your friends and I’ll worry about my own.” San doesn’t mean to sound like an asshole, but he’s truly tired of the back and forth between Noelle. He hates that she acts this way, and he hates that she’s here. He feels like the night has gone to waste because he won’t be able to fully enjoy himself.

On top of that, you’re livid with him.

Speaking of you— You’ve kept yourself close to the pole even though your client has asked you for a lap dance. Once, twice, maybe even thrice. He’s attractive, but your mind is glued to San and how terrible this night ended up playing out for you. Luckily, the client doesn’t seem to fight much against it; as long as he gets his fix of you somehow, he’ll take it. Tonight’s one of those nights where you’ll stay for the full 45 to get the extra money, to hide away from the rest of the crowd. 

One, two.

Twirl around the pole.

Three, four.

Invert and lean back.

Five, six.

Gently fall into the splits.

Seven, eight.

Bounce your ass on the stage. 

“You’re a fucking goddess.” He says, gently palming himself through his pants, forcing you to mask the disgust you feel watching him openly do that. Though, you’ve seen worse and you’ve trained yourself to have the thick skin needed in this industry. Right now, it hits differently. Because of San, because of Noelle.

Because of everything.

“You sure you can’t come down here and get on daddy’s lap? I think I’ve slipped you enough money to at least get a lapdance.”

“Sorry, not doing that tonight, love.” 

“Aw, why not? Not even for me?”

“Not for you. Or them.” You say, bending over to at least give him a peek of what he wants.

“You sure you’re not saving it all for someone else?”

“Nope.”

“Gonna have to come back on a better night then.” He bites his bottom lip. “You’re my favorite. I swear you drive me crazy.” The statement is enough to trigger San’s voice in your head, causing you to rush through the last bit of your pole dance before thanking the man for his time and tip.

When you step out of the booth, you no longer see San and his group and it instantly makes your heart clench. You didn’t know what to expect tonight, but you definitely didn’t expect San to leave so quickly with his friends—

With Noelle and her friends.

Now, you’re back to square one. You feel like a mere distraction, something that temporarily fills the void; nothing more, nothing less. You quickly head to the back to get some air and a moment to yourself, finding a few texts from San:

san: Y/N, i’m sorry. i didn’t know they were coming. mingi just invited them and didn’t really say anything about it.

san: i know you’re probably wondering about her and i can explain. it’s really not what it looks like. 

san: let me know when you’re off? i wanna take you home still. 

san: i wanna talk to you and see you. please.

You swallow the lump in your throat as you shut off the phone and ignore the texts. Even if you wanted to answer back, even if it fucking pains you to re-run through those texts, you keep your head up and throw on a brave face for the rest of your shift.

San is still your kryptonite, and you aren’t sure where to go from here.

You need to leave quickly enough to avoid running into San tonight. 

Guess you’d be taking your usual walk alone. 

You managed to dodge San and his friends on your way home that one awful night, ignoring his calls even as you’ve gotten comfy and tucked in your bed. San continued to blow up your phone into the next day until he realized you weren’t gonna answer him anytime soon.

And it sucked.

But, you needed to hold your ground. You needed to go back to the Y/N who worried about her own, the Y/N who didn’t let anything faze her even if she was hurt by loved ones, by friends.

You needed to go back to the Y/N who kept it real with herself and was proud of how far she’s come despite the ups and downs.

You hadn’t seen San come to the club, and it was probably his way of giving you the space that you indirectly asked for. And indeed, you needed this.

You needed to go back to the old Y/N and reprioritize.

“Hey baby.” Mia says, hand on the small of your back as you dab a bit of lip gloss onto your lips.

“Hey.”

“How’re you doing?” She brushes your hair back and gives you a small, sympathetic smile.

“I’ve seen better days.” You let out a chuckle.

“You haven’t texted him back?” You shake your head.

“No. I don’t really know what to say. I just feel kinda dumb. Maybe we were just meant to be a thing in passing.”

“Don’t say that. I know he had some feelings for you, and I know the situation was unique. But, nobody would go through all that effort if it didn’t matter to them.”

“Mm, yeah, He just has some baggage he has to deal with and I don’t think I have time or energy for that.”

“For all you know, it could just be her.”

“But, why hasn’t he officially let her go then?” Mia pouts a bit.

“I think he’s over it. He didn’t seem all that interested in her at all.” She nods. “Talk to him, hun. Let him explain. It might just be a misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She gives you a reassuring smile.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“I know, babe. Thanks.” You give her a toothless smile, letting out a small squeal when she slaps your ass.

“Now get out there and do your thing, the clients are waiting.” You chuckle and shake your head, taking one last look in the mirror before you head out to the main stage. You strut your way across the floor, doing your usual sweet talk with a few of the men lining the stage. You take the stage for a bit and do your usual routine, letting them slip their bills wherever they can under your gear, or shower the stage with a few more extra tips. Just as you were getting into the swing of things, you catch San walking in by himself. You almost lose track of your thoughts, distracted by how good he looks. He’s sporting simple slacks and a gray-striped button up with chelsea boots, rolex on his wrist. He looks around the club before his eyes land on yours, and you suddenly feel like you’ve lost the ability to move, to dance.

▹ FLASHBACK

“I’ve never seen you this sulky. It’s kinda annoying.” Wooyoung plops next to San on the couch, watching as he slouches and lazily texts back on his phone.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m assuming she’s not answering your texts or calls yet?”

“Nope.”

“Down bad.”

“Are you here to help or to get on my nerve?” San glares at his bestfriend.

“Why don’t you just go see her?”

“I don’t wanna cross boundaries and be in her space, especially if she’s already not answering my texts or calls.”

“Maybe this is what she needs, though. She’s probably still assuming shit about Noelle. Which, by the way, I hope you ended it. For real.”

“I did. That’s why she was hella upset during the last half of the club and I left.”

“I thought you left to go after Y/N. Where exactly did you go?” 

“I mean, partially. I was gonna go after her and bring her home, but I was too late. The other half of me was pissed off because Noelle kept crying and trying to gaslight me. I told her I didn’t wanna do this anymore. Was tired of it. I told her we just don’t work and it’s time for us to move on.”

“‘Bout time you realized.” Wooyoung rolls his eyes. “I know you have love for her and I know she meant a lot to you, but that girl is crazy. You continued to feed into it, too.”

“Yeah, well.” 

“Just go see Y/N, dude. You look terrible.” San flips him off. “I mean it. If you want shit to change, then keep taking initiative.”

“I just don’t wanna scare her off. I already fucked up enough with this whole Noelle thing.”

“Damn, what did Y/N do to you?” Wooyoung laughs. “I truly didn’t think you’d end up finding your boo thing at the strip club. I’d like another thank you if this all goes well.” He smirks. “Thank you Wooyoung for making us go to the club on my birthday.” He says in a sing-song tone.

“Yeah, yeah.” San sighs. “I’ll probably head to the club tonight and try to talk to her.”

“Want me to come? Moral support.” He shakes his head.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll be good.”

▹ END

You quickly head off the stage and head to the bar, switching gears to take a break from the stage. You scurry along, hoping you aren’t making it too obvious that you’re trying to deflect and avoid San yet again. 

But, he knows. 

“Y/N, hey. Wait.” San says as you brush past him, hand gently coming to your wrist. You wiggle out of his grip, giving him a look as you continue on to the next room. “Y/N.” He continues to call, hurriedly following after you. “Y/N, please.” He says as he comes to your side while you gather a few drinks onto your tray.

“San, what? I’m working.” You respond, still keeping your attention to the drinks.

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts or calls?”

“Because.”

“Because, what? I didn’t mean to leave early without saying anything to you that night. I wanted to come back and take you home.”

“Oh, but Noelle didn’t let you, right?” 

“Y/N, please don’t do that. That’s not even what happened—” San has his hand around your wrist again, his eyes pleading for you to hear him out. 

“Aye, come on, my guy.” An unfamiliar man from the crowd comes in between you and San, ripping his hand away from your wrist. “Care to share? Stop being so selfish and gatekeeping her—”

“The fuck are you?”

“I see you come into this club with your friends, acting all high and mighty. You heard what I said.” He steps closer towards San. “Stop being so fucking selfish with her, hm? She’s for the crowd, baby’s meant to be shared—” The man suddenly slaps your ass and it turns a switch on for San. San pushes him away, causing the other man to lose his footing before attempting to swing at him.

“Stop that!” You try to yell, hoping it’d somehow break them apart. San is quick to dodge the first swing, but he gets unlucky with the second. San is quick to regain his composure, throwing a punch to him and causing him to fall to the ground. He towers over him and continues to lay a few more punches while you yell at security for assistance. “Quit it! San, stop! Stop it!” You repeat, prying him off of the man on the floor. “San!” You grip his bicep and pull him back.

“Fucking idiot.” San spits, hand coming to his jaw to ease the soreness. 

“Get them out of here!” You tell security and San furrows his brows at you.

“Y/N—”

“Out. Now!” You repeat yourself, following after security as they get their hands on both San and the other guy, escorting them out of the club. One shoves the other man through the front entrance, while the other shoves San out of the side entrance. You’re already following behind, signaling for security that it’s okay for him to leave you alone with San. He gives you a curt nod as he walks around the corner— giving you enough distance that allows privacy, but also allows him to step in if necessary. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I wasn’t gonna let him talk about you like that, Y/N. Don’t ask me that fucking question.”

“It’s my job.” You remind him. “I meant what are you doing here?! Why did you come here, San?”

“I came here to talk to you!” His tone raises. “You aren’t answering my texts or calls, and all I wanna do is make this right. What do you expect me to do?”

“Let it go.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because, San. What is it to you, anyway?”

“Are you serious?” He sighs, running his hand through his hair. “If you would just give me one second to talk to you—“ He pauses and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Y/N. All I want to do is talk to you and explain. I don’t wanna leave things like this.” He lowers his voice and steps closer to you.

“Then talk.” You cross your arms and shift your weight from one foot to another.

“Y/N, me and Noelle are done with. We’ve been done with for awhile. She’s my ex and we’ve gone through some shit but it’s over with.” He lets out a breath, the air cold and crisp against your skin. “Mingi invited them that night, and I just didn’t wanna cause any issues between us and ruin the night. She threw herself on me and I had been asking her to stop. I didn’t ask her to do that, nor did I want to entertain it. I shouldn’t have left with them though, I knew how that would look, too. I’m sorry. I promise you it meant nothing. I even told Noelle she needed to move on that night. I came back to the club, but you had already left.”

“San.” You shake your head. “Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why me?”

“Y/N, I really do like you.”

“But, that’s the problem. You don’t even see the issue with this.”

“What issue?!

“Us! That’s the fucking issue, San! We come from such different lives, does that not bother you? We’ll never be on the same page, we’ll never work.” San furrows his brows, trying his hardest to take the blow even though it hurts to.

“Why would you say it like that? I don’t care about how different our lives are. That doesn’t matter to me–”

“It does to me!”

“Why?! I don’t care what people think and so shouldn’t you! Wouldn’t we be enough?”

“It’s so easy for you to say because you don’t know what it’s like to be on my side of things.”

“Then, let me know!” San raises his voice before running his hand through his hair. “Y/N, I would never take advantage of you. Never in my mind did I ever think of you that way. Why won’t you let me be here for you?”

“Because San, you had me thinking I was stupid. I felt like you were here for one thing, and it made me question everything about myself, my life. I hated feeling that way. I even compared myself to Noelle at one point.”

“She’s nothing to me! I’m sorry for having hid that from you, but I didn’t think much of it at the time since the whole thing caught me off guard. She means nothing to me, and we’re done with. I’m sorry.” For some reason, you are torn. You want to believe San, and there is a small part of you that does. However, you still can’t get over the fact that he still kept her close for lord knows how long. What if he was balancing you both at the same time? How could you know he was for sure over her and that this wasn’t just a phase?

“What if this is just a phase to you, huh? What happens when you realize how much we don’t work? That we’re just too different? That maybe she or someone else is a better fit for you all along.” Your bottom lip trembles and even though you try to hide it, San catches on. “This is my life, and it won’t change for awhile.”

“Stop putting words in my mouth and choosing how I should feel. That’s not how this works. I caught feelings for you, Y/N. Genuinely. None of our differences mattered to me, and it won’t ever. I’m sorry you felt that way and that was never my intention.” San says calmly, but god, is he terrified right now. He is anxious. Nervous. Scared. And as much as you wanna cave, you remember you are outside of the club in the freezing cold.

Arguing with San.

“San, you know what? This is enough.”

“Y/N.” He pleads through his tone.

“Please just go home.” You point at the side door before nervously rubbing at your sides. “We should talk about this another time. Not here.”

“O-okay, so are you gonna answer my texts or calls then?”

“I’ll text you, okay?” You look at him with some remorse. Right now, you don’t think you’re ready to talk to him and you probably need to sort out your thoughts before the next time. Or else, you’ll continue to try blaming him, the situation. You’ll continue to deflect, you’ll continue to let San’s words brush over your head because you aren’t used to this genuine attention— these genuine feelings, genuine intentions.

San doesn’t say anything else, but his expression makes your heart break more. You let out a sigh before turning on your heel to get back into the club and finish your shift. As soon as the door shuts and acts as a barrier between you two, a few tears escape your lids. You quickly brush them away and shake off the feelings, storming out onto the main stage to finish your night strongly.

You need Jongho.

“This fucking sucks.” You tuck your knees to your chest as Jongho sighs and pours you another shot of tequila.

“Why don’t you text him, Y/N? Just talk to him.”

“I’m kinda scared. And nervous.” You take the shot with him.

“Why? He’s literally waiting for you to text him. You’ve just been big sad over him too, don’t you think that’s a sign?”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“Oh, I don’t know, ‘hey, can we talk?’ maybe?” Jongho gives you a look before shaking his head. “I love you, but dude. Get it together. You should just talk to him and stop putting yourself through this. You obviously like the guy and he feels the same way. The whole thing with his ex was just a misunderstanding, too. What exactly are you trying to put off?”

“I think I’m just scared. You know how it was with my ex. He wasn’t nice and also made me feel ridiculously stupid and incompetent for my decisions. Even after the break up.”

“Yeah, but he’s your ex for a reason. San is not the same person.” Jongho pours you another shot. “I understand you’re scared. But, you can’t shield yourself off from everything forever. I truly think he’s a genuinely nice guy.”

“Plus, I worry about him too. How would his friends feel about us being serious? His family, his sister?” 

“I’m sure it’ll all be fine. San isn’t even worried about that, nor does he seem to care. It doesn’t matter where you come from. They should be able to see what kind of person you are and the heart you have.” 

“Mm, yeah. I just worry too much. I don’t want my life to bleed into his and ruin the shit he’s built for himself.”

“It won’t. Jeez, you aren’t a criminal Y/N. You’re great at everything you do and you’re incredibly talented. You have a lot of qualities that could take you far.” There’s another pause, enough for you and Jongho to take the last shot to the neck before you pull out your phone and click on San’s text thread.

“Fuck it.”

“Exactly.” He sips on some soda to wash down the tequila burn. “By the way, I’m never talking about you that way again.” Jongho visibly shudders, making you playfully hit him on the shoulder. 

you: hi, sorry for the random text. can we talk?

You toss your phone aside and dig your face into your hands, nervous about the text back. Granted, it’s only been close to a week and a half after the whole thing went down at the club. Time moves so fast that part of you felt terrible for making San wait in general. But, it should be a testimony to how he truly feels about you.

“What if he’s over it?” You groan into your hands.

“Then at least you know, right? You can close that chapter and move on.” Jongho takes a bite of his chicken. “Highly doubt it though.” At this point, the phone dings behind Jongho and he’s quick to grab it for you— flashing you San’s name on the screen.

“Fuck.” You whine.

san: hey. don’t apologize. of course we can. should i swing by your place soon?

“I’ll drop you off in a bit.”

“Are you sure you’re good? I can ask him to pick me up.”

“Actually, yeah. Ask him.” You chuckle as Jongho pours another shot for himself.

you: yeah, but i’m at jongho’s. do you think you can pick me up?

san: yeah i can, love. just send me the address.

“He always gets so sweet. I can’t do this.” You send San Jongho’s address.

“Yes you can!” Jongho responds. “Here, drink.” He pushes your water glass towards you. “So you don’t feel like shit later.”

san: on my way. 20 mins.

“Thanks for the food and drinks. For letting me be a crybaby. You know, the whole nine.” Jongho chuckles and nudges you on the arm.

“I got you, dude. You’re my bestfriend. I won’t let you go through these things alone.” 

“I guess I’ll keep you updated?”

“Take your time. And just be honest with him, alright? Be straight up about how you feel with everything.”

“I will.” 

When San arrives a bit after 20 minutes, you grab your things and bid your bestfriend farewell. You feel nervous, palms sweating the more you fiddle with your fingers and head down the steps to San’s car. Once you catch wind of him, you pause in your steps just to give yourself a tiny breather before committing and approaching his passenger door. He’s in a black shirt and sweats, glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. 

“Hey.” You say as you climb in, San giving you a small smile.

“Hey. You good to go?” You buckle your seatbelt and nod, allowing San to drive off to your studio. “Did you work at the shop today?”

“Mhm, I worked an earlier shift to get off at the same time as Jongho.”

“You guys just hung out?”

“Yep. Drank, ate some food. Talked about some things.”

“Some things?”

“You.” You give him a look and he nods.

“Fair enough.”

“What have you been up to?”

“Work. I’ve been working from home lately since there isn’t much requiring me to come into the office.”

“Been busy?”

“Yup, but I’ve seen worse days.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” He lets out a small chuckle as he continues to drive on. The rest of the drive to your place is quiet, but nothing feels weird or awkward. It’s surprisingly a comfortable silence and it’s probably due to the fact that you two have missed each other even though you’re both still trying to gather your thoughts.

When he pulls up into a spot on the street, San shuts off the car and immediately runs to your side to help you out. He follows behind as you lead the way, quietly unlocking your door and tossing the keys off to the side. San sits on your couch and lets out a sigh, watching as you plop next to him after grabbing some water.

“Want anything else to drink?”

“I’m okay.” He gives you a small smile. You turn to face him, a leg tucked under the other that’s swung over the edge of the couch.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

“Of course.”

“Can we talk about what’s been happening? I just really need you to be honest with me, that’s all I ask.”

“I’ll always be honest with you, Y/N. It was never my intention to make it seem otherwise.”

“Well, after everything, I did feel pretty stupid. You knew I was already doubting myself after I lost my family and friends because of my decisions. For a second, I felt like you tricked me and that I was stupid not to realize you only wanted me for one thing.” San shakes his head, but he continues to let you talk. “I started questioning myself more and I hated the feeling. I knew I couldn’t be enough for you, or that I was completely different from girls in your past. And it felt terrible. I couldn’t help but jump to conclusions that night because who am I compared to her? I’m living such a different life and I honestly wouldn’t blame you if you realized that.” You shrug. “Anyway, I felt shitty because I genuinely had feelings for you even though I was scared. I still am, especially because I don’t know if this is just a phase or what.” You feel the tears pricking your bottom lids again but you do your best to prevent San from catching on. You look down at your hands, fiddling with your sweater sleeves. You feel San shift closer to you, his hand coming up to your cheek.

“Can you look at me please?” Your eyes shift back up to him, and you feel the butterflies in your stomach the moment you two lock eyes. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He says softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. “I really didn’t mean to. That whole thing Noelle—” He sighs. “I’m not gonna lie, it’s been a ride with her. But meeting you and getting to know you made me realize how much I didn’t wanna be stuck in that anymore. It made me realize how much I craved normalcy with someone, something that doesn’t have to be so sad and toxic all the damn time.” He lets out a breath. “I know it sounds dumb that it took me all of this to realize, but I mean it. You make me feel things I haven’t felt in such a long time. It feels good.” He does a subtle nod. “I feel happy and good around you.”

“San, you just scare me.” A few tears stream down your cheeks and San is the first to catch them; gently wiping it away while he keeps his eyes locked onto yours. “Our lives are so different, I can’t help but worry about how this is gonna make things turn out in the future. Your family, your friends—”

“My friends are fine, they know how I feel about you. And my family knows they can’t dictate everything about my life. You—” He pauses. “Y/N, you aren’t any different just because of what you do. What matters is the kind of person you are, how you genuinely make me feel. None of that matters.”

“You know it isn’t gonna be that easy.”

“So be it. I know you’re scared, but I’m with you on this.” He runs his other thumb across your lip. “We can figure this out, okay? We can take this slow and figure it out together. I’ll stop heading to the club with the guys and be there for you in many other ways. Just know that I’m gonna support you no matter what, I’m not like everyone else. Fuck all of them.” He gives you a small, reassuring smile. “I’m sorry.” He repeats. You can’t help but lean into his hand and let out a shaky breath, kissing the palm of his hand before returning your gaze on him. His smile grows, making him plant an eager kiss on your forehead, to the tip of your nose.

Lips.

“Are we okay?” He whispers against your lips and you nod. “Can I have you then?” He whispers against your lips in between another kiss. “Make it up to you?” Another kiss. “Show you how I really feel?” You nod, giving San leverage to scoop you into his arms and carry you to your bed. He gently lays you down and is quick to shed off your clothes, admiring every inch of you. San tosses his glasses onto your nightstand before placing random trails of kisses along your body, kissing every scar, every curve, every tattoo; everything about you still continues to drive him crazy. Today, San takes his time. Though he’s eager to show you how you make him feel, he decides he’s gonna take his time with you. 

Even when he laps at your pussy, your clit, making you cum within minutes of being positioned in between your thighs.

Even when he rocks his hips into you— it’s a slow and steady pace, enough to make you feel every inch of him.

Even when he sits back onto his knees, letting you ride him.

His hands run up your sides while your hands are tangled in his hair, rolling your hips against him steadily, slowly, letting him feel every inch of you. He moans against your neck before placing wet kisses on the surface, hands now gripping tighter as he feels himself nearing his high. Everything is so intimate, so raw, so close— San can’t keep his lips off of you and hearing your moans bounce off of the walls adds to the pleasure. Your clit is rubbing deliciously against him, causing you to bite onto his bottom lip before tilting your head back in pleasure.

“Gonna cum, baby.” He groans in between open-mouthed kisses. “Be my good girl and cum with me.” You furrow your brows in pleasure, hands gripping his jaw as you continue to deeply kiss him, your climax heightening at your gut.

“Sannie.” You whine, unable to form any thoughts.

“You know how to fuck me so well. You’re perfect.” He hisses, the pleasure almost feeling too intense with how much he’s having to hold back. You start to rock your hips at a messier pace when you feel yourself climbing, moan loudly and gripping the ends of San’s hair when you finally come undone. He almost whines when he feels you twitch against him, hissing at how good you feel wrapped around him. San quickly lays you back and pounds into you, releasing his seed and painting your walls white. 

The both of you stay stationary for a second, panting and regulating your breathing once you’ve come back down from cloud nine. San brushes the hair away from your face and adoringly looks into your eyes, placing a kiss on your lips before slowly sliding himself out of you.

“Let’s get cleaned up.” He jogs over to your bathroom and turns on the shower, waiting for the water to reach a perfect temperature before grabbing you. 

While in the shower, San makes sure to lather your body with soap, giving your back and shoulders a good massage before rinsing off. You follow suit, giggling when you plop a few bubbles on his nose and cheeks. The best thing about the shower is that San doesn’t pressure you for more, no. He showers you with kisses, surely showing you just exactly what you mean to him through the action alone.

After the shower, you climb into bed with San, letting him take you into his arms while you turn on some music to softly fill the background. He gently strokes your hair, and hums along, keeping you close in his warm embrace.

“San.”

“Yeah?”

“You know what I want to do in the future?”

“What’s that?”

“I wanna own my own dance studio and teach. Help people grow their confidence and embrace their sexiness.” San chuckles. “You know? People get shy about these things or hide because they feel like they can’t dance or be sexy.”

“You’d be an amazing teacher for that.” You giggle.

“Hopefully one day.”

“We’ll make it happen. No matter how long it takes, hm?” He hums. “I got you.” You look up at San and stare at the galaxies he holds in those beautiful, brown orbs. What you did to deserve someone like San, you’ll never know— but you’ll take it as a gift from the universe; a gift that shows how proud the universe is of you for never giving up and for staying true to yourself.

For once, everything feels right. Everything seems to be where it should be. Everything in your life, as it is now, is what’s meant to be. And out of all the changes the universe has brought you, you’re at least thankful for this; for that moment San walked into the club, for the moment you took the first leap.

“You got me?” You tease and he nods.

“I got you.”

▹ taglist: @itsvxlentine @vantediary @certifiedmoa @asjkdk @bintificreads @frobin4ever @persphonesorchid

[pirateprincessblog]

needle to the heart

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: wedding planning seemed stressful and difficult on tv and in the stories of your friends and family. your first one was, indeed, stressful and difficult. so much that it took you less than ten minutes to discard your wedding dress, undo your hair, and call a cab. this time will be different. with a different approach. in a different city. with a different man. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kim hongjoong x f!reader x choi san 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: angst, smut, bride!reader, ex!hongjoong, ceo!san, cheating, marriage, past lovers 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: public, voyeurism, orgasm denial, slight dacryphilia, choking, hair pulling, fingering, mirror sex

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, infidelity 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i whipped this out in three hours. enjoy. i did. i'm horny. and sad. not proofread. :)

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

you liked to think that you were the furthest thing from a bridezilla. you did everything on your own or with your partner, kept your family and friends out of it, for their and your sake, and little by little, all the planning was coming to an end. the seating arrangement was finished, bridesmaids happy, parents satisfied, and you and your partner relaxed. all that was left to do was find the wedding gown and tuxedo.

for your last wedding, your then partner and you did not have a big budget. you did not plan a big wedding either, knowing that none of your family members would attend and he had a very small circle of people.

kim hongjoong was in college, struggling to make ends meet. but he loved you, more than anything. would've kept you in his pocket if he could. he borrowed money from his brother to pay for the venue and catering, and used his savings to buy himself a suit that was conveniently on clearance. as for your dress, he made it for you. his dream of becoming a fashion designer never faded, even though it cost him his apartment and most of the food. he lived off of coffee, pretzels and cigarettes.

he quit them for you, hoping to create a better impression in your parent's eyes. but all they saw was a cigarette smelling, hair dyed boy whose dreams were too big for his own good and he could not give you a good future. they didn't not like him. they hated him. your father, usually having a soft spot for even a pout from you, let alone tears, was unfazed as you begged him to give hongjoong a chance.

"you'll become homeless in no time."

"don't come to us when everything falls apart."

"what do you know about love at your age?"

"why can't you find someone more successful?"

and you almost went through with it. you sat in the hand sewn wedding dress, with your hair done by your best friend, and make up done by yourself. the dress itself did not look like it was made in under a month by a man. it looked like it was stripped from a mannequin in a wedding dress shop. and you loved it. you loved every bit of it. you loved every bit of him. the smile he had on his face as he handed you the box, and the little excited clapping as you admired his creation in awe.

yet, as soon as your best friend left you to get the veil from the car, you regretted it. what if it really does go wrong, and you have no backup. you didn't go to college, instead choosing to work until you decide what to do with yourself. but your paycheck wasn't enough to find an apartment for yourself, let alone two people. then comes the food, the utilities, and his college. would he ask you for money? would he contribute at all? would you have to work two shifts to cover both of your expenses?

in the ten minutes that your best friend, the maid of honour, was gone, your brain managed to mess with your feelings and got you out of the dress and through the window. you ran in the clothes you arrived in, leggings and sweatshirt, with undone hair and face full of smeared makeup. your parents ushered you in, your mother happily wiping your makeup off and preparing you your favourite meal.

your phone did not ring once. it hurt your heart to think that hongjoong did not reach out to you. not him, not his family, and not your maid of honour. you were alone. hurting. you did not want to do it. but if hongjoong had been just a tad bit more patient, everything would've been perfect. neither of you were financially stable on your own, or together, and barely had the money for the wedding. hongjoong didn't understand it. or didn't want to understand it. blindly in love, he just wanted to gift you the world. say the word, and he would create it out of thin air for you if he could.

you moved cities, changed numbers, forgot names and faces, met new ones. you met choi san. a kind, polite man you've met at the gym. the encounter was like one from a movie; someone raising their voice at you for borrowing some equipment and shoving you backwards as you tried to defend yourself. when your back hit the wall, you were certain the giant bodybuilder's fist would soon meet your face. until he came to rescue.

"pick on someone your own size."

"this your girlfriend or something?"

"she is. even if she wasn't, what gives you the right to talk or touch anyone like that?"

"tell your slut to keep her fingers to herself and ask the next time she wants to- oof!"

in a split second, san's fist connected with the man's jaw. it was amusing seeing the giant man stumble back, taking a hit from someone who was shorter and not as bulked as him. the workers were quick to react, but on his behalf. both of you got your membership cancelled, bags and bottles flying out the door, along with you two. you stood in front of the glass doors in the dark, your saviour next to you, equally in disbelief. until you started laughing. and he joined.

from that night, everything seemed to fall in place. you felt loved. safe. had hopes and dreams again. your parents accepted san, just like his parents accepted you. family dinners and lunches were now an often occurrence, with san always abducting you while everyone was busy preparing food and giving you attention where nobody could see.

it was sweet and innocent at first, and more heated and passionate as days went by. choi san knew how to sweep you off your feet, whether it was with a sudden trip to your dream destination or a simple chocolate bar he picked up at the gas station. aside from loving, caring and protecting, he was also rich. you would sound shallow if you said it out loud, but it did contribute. looking at your last relationship, this one felt safe. you didn't need to worry whether you'll spend today's budget on your daily coffee or on your partner's food so he doesn't starve.

now, a few years later, not only do you have a majestic venue, a big number of people you wanted to invite in the first place, and a dreamy groom, but you are also getting your wedding gown custom made. you sit in your fiancé's car, a brand new black and shiny lexus with red seats he bought for the wedding that is just three weeks away. he assured you that the gown would be done by then. it had to be.

"see anything you like, love?"

"they're all so... revealing." you complain, closing one of the dozens magazines san's assistant has found you.

san chuckles, putting a hand on your thigh and keeping the other one on his steering wheel. you still feel goosebumps every time he touches you. his hand is warm on your skin, gently squeezing your bare thigh just beneath the hem of your dress. "you can draw your own picture if you wish. i'll do everything to make sure you have your dream dress. i want my future wife to be happy."

as an owner of a highly successful company that produces luxurious jewelry and watches, choi san could afford everything. yet, he was still cautious with his money. he kept his receipts, tracked his own expenses, but never spared when it came to spoiling you or tipping workers. the only thing you regretted was not meeting him sooner.

"i am happy." you respond, even though your tone is irritated.

"you're so cute when you try to conceal your emotions. you can be angry with something, that's alright."

"i'm not angry. i'm pissed."

"tell me what you want, and i'll make it happen."

"i don't know what i want." you admit, throwing the magazines in the back seat.

"ah," san says. "can i be of any help?"

"you can try."

"you love sparkles. why not go all out?"

"i don't know."

you rest your head against the window, looking at the tall building that overshadows all the others as you give your brain a break. it is san's building, and you have been in there many times. some days spent sitting in the cafeteria and having lunch with him, and some spent against the window, bare body pressed against the cold glass as his warm hands held your waist in place and hips connected with yours. you feel arousal pooling between your legs, and instinctively press your thighs together at the memory.

san recognizes the way you chew your freshly manicured nail, eyes stuck on the highest level on his building and cheeks becoming flushed. he smirks to himself, before letting his hand dip between your thighs and feel the warmth of your core.

"san-" you gasp, quickly rolling up the window.

usually, you do not mind. but in the middle of the day, in a busy city as you wait for the green light?

"may i know what got you so worked up?" he asks, knowing the answer already. he just needed to hear it from you while you were a flustered and stuttering mess.

"you know."

"i'm afraid i don't. mind reminding me?"

you look at him with an annoyed face. you realize it is a mistake, your eyes hungrily taking in his presence. he looks ravishing with his slicked black hair, with a few strands falling over his smug face, a black halfway unbuttoned shirt with rolled up sleeves and his sleeve tattoos on full display. the tattooed hand grips your thigh, his pinky finger inching closer and closer to your clothed core. your gaze drops on his tattoos, having memorized all of them by now. your favorite one overshadows the rest, and when he first showed it to you, it had your jaw dropped for a long time.

your eyes inked on his skin, details astonishing. your lashes, your iris, to the smallest vein in the whites of your eye. it was cleverly camouflaged with the rest of them, but still standing out if someone were to look at it a bit longer.

something about him pleasuring you with that hand had you seeing stars. choi san loved you so much that he got a reminder of you permanently marked on his skin. and he made sure to show you how much he loved you in other ways. just like now, easily moving your panties aside and brushing his fingers against your folds. he circles your clit, causing you to squirm in your seat and claw at the red leather underneath you. he doesn't protest, instead loving the view and sounds you make for him.

"my pretty wife," he coos, then dips his fingers into your aching hole.

you moan, throwing your head back and closing your eyes, finally relaxing your body. san has given you passion and an adrenaline rush. you can't help but be jealous of his previous lovers. were they also treated like this?

you feel the car move, and his fingers plunge deep inside of you. you gasp, opening your eyes and holding onto the door handle and his wrist. he smoothly navigates the busy roads, not once taking his hand off your body. his thick fingers easily find your soft spot, not sparing a moment before abusing it and inching you closer to an intense orgasm. he is forced to stop at another red light, causing you to groan out of frustration. you wished for nothing more than to get out of the busy city center, beg him to stop in an empty parking lot so you can offer yourself to him in the back seat.

"excuse me?"

you become stiff under his touch, ears picking up a foreign voice. san does not halt his moves, relentlessly slamming two fingers into you, hidden by your dress. you squeeze his wrist - a poor attempt to stop him.

"yes?" your lover rolls down his window, shifting his focus on the older couple that approaches the car.

"do you know where this street is? we aren't usually in this city." they show san their phone screen that has an address written in the notes.

as san explains, you can't help but feel a mix of fear and embarrassment. the green light could turn on any second, and your orgasm could wreck your body in the same time span. you can't help the gasps that leave your lips, even though your head is turned to the other side. it does not make the situation easier, seeing that the sidewalk is full of people waiting for the bus. and have a perfect view inside the car. some of them recognize the pure bliss on your face, and while a few turn their heads away, two or three of them stay looking at you.

"and then you turn left after the restaurant." san finally finishes, and you almost do too.

"thank you, kind man. is your... partner alright?"

all three look your way, and you have to fight the urge to yell at the couple to leave and be on their way already. instead, your orgasm ripples through your body, sending shockwaves along your spine and making your eyes roll back. you hear faint snickering, and a gasp. you know that the couple is traumatized, and that san is enjoying every bit of it. as are you.

you don't conceal your moans anymore, allowing sounds of pleasure to echo in the car that now smells less new and more like you.

"i hope you find your location." the man greets, removing his hand from your glistening folds and letting his tongue feast on the fluids that coat his fingers.

before they can respond, the light turns green, and san is quick to step on the gas pedal and leave the shocked crowd behind.

"you're insane." you exhale, a smile creeping on your lips no matter how angry you wish to sound.

"and you love it."

san's assistant is still a student. she works for him so she can afford her college. her job description says doing tasks that make san's job easier, but in reality, her only task is to keep you company and help you around the wedding. and she does not complain.

"april, this looks fabulous." you gasp, gawking at the three story wedding dress shop a few days later.

"i know, right? i pass by this shop every day on my way to college. i really want to buy my own dress here some day." the redhead sighs, dreamy gaze roaming the white gowns. "you know, mr choi is so cool for letting you design your own dress."

"when you get proposed to, give me a call. i'll see what i can arrange." you playfully reply.

she laughs, then finally pushes the door and holds it open for you. sometimes you feel jealous of her. she has fire red hair, and green eyes, the most gorgeous shade you've ever seen. she spends a lot of time in san's building, right outside the office. even though she has never shown interest in him, you can't help but moan just a bit louder when you're in there with him, hoping that she hears and gets the message.

"the owner is so hot, mrs choi. i met him the other day to book a consultation and-"

"mrs choi?" you raise an eyebrow.

"oh- i mean- can i call you that? it sounds so... sexy. mr and mrs choi. the hottest couple i know. not even brangelina can top you."

"april!" you hush her. still, you can't help but blush at her compliment. you're happy to know that she sees you as attractive as san.

after a short introduction and a few words of praise for san, you are sat on a white couch with golden accents, a champagne in your hand and magazine in the other. the shop assistants offer all the help they can, showing you various gowns they already had and handing you rough sketches. but none of them were good enough. it was hard to pick, when you didn't know what you wanted.

"where's the owner? i thought he would be here." you ask on april's behalf.

"oh, he had urgent business. if you wish, i can schedule another consultation in a few days. or you can wait for him, but he arrives late today."

"how late?" the redhead asks, brows furrowed.

"an hour after closing. but i can keep the shop open for you until he arrives."

april groans, making you chuckle. "you have to go, don't you?"

"yeah. boo. but you should definitely stay. the wedding is two and a half weeks away, and you have no vision of your dream dress. i have five in mind!"

and so you do stay, occupying yourself with browsing various materials of lace, satin and whatnot. each of them are undeniably stunning, with a detail that makes it unique. the last assistant that stayed behind encouraged you to explore the two floors again while she stays downstairs and finishes the remaining paperwork.

your heels click against the marble stairs as you climb to the first floor, eyes skimming the room for the second time today. the dresses on this floor seem more modest, with long sleeves and not as much cleavage. quickly getting bored of the floor, your proceed to the top one. it is extravagant, gowns dripping in sparkles under the strong white lights. once you finish going through all of them, you head over to the show window, examining the two mannequins dressed in two versions of the same gown.

you sigh, feeling disappointed that you are so hard to please. your eyes drift to the streets that have calmed due to the lateness of the night and sudden change in weather. it is pouring, most of the stores are closed, making the wedding boutique stand out in its full glory. a few people pass by, none of them headed to the store and instead clutching their umbrellas close to themselves so they don't get wet. you begin feeling annoyed with the owner. he could've notified you that he had sudden errands, and you would've rescheduled instead of wasting your time coming here at all.

then, you see a figure walking towards the shop. and your heart drops.

it can't be.

you rush to the top of the stairs, careful to not make any noise.

"mr kim! you're drenched! i'll get you a-"

"no need, kendra. it's not that bad."

it is him.

his voice you could recognize anywhere, no matter how long has passed. his figure, his voice, even the footsteps that are getting louder and louder. you are not ready for this encounter.

"you can go home, love. i'll close up after i've finished with..."

"mrs choi."

"right, mrs choi."

so he does not know it is you. and he won't. not until he sees you. you're a fool for not exploring the place first, finding out the name of the owner. and you're a fool for not leaving when april did. at least then she would've maybe told you his name, and you would not come back-

"y/n?"

ever again.

"you're mrs choi?"

you sigh. there is no going back. there is no avoiding it. best get it over with. do you address him professionally? or by his first name? "mr- hongjoong."

he scoffs, and you finally turn around before you stumble on more words. the sight takes your breath away. this is not your ex hongjoong. it is mr kim, owner and designer of wedding gowns. his hair is not a vivid colour as it used to be, instead his natural dark locks match his dark eyes. it is damp, drops of rain falling from the loose strands and on the mopped floor. he wears a black coat, a black turtleneck and slacks. a complete opposite from your blue haired hongjoong who loved his diy sweatshirts and sweatpants. the man stands still, his expression a mix of anger and grief, and yours only astonishment.

"thought you'd see me sleeping on a bench somewhere? beat and hungry? not successful and financially stable? not over you?"

"no, i-"

"wow. who would've thought i'd be making a wedding gown for my ex fiancee." he approaches you, and you don't have energy to step away. instead, you stare as he puts his hands behind his back and casually leans in, face close to yours. "again."

"i-" you try again, feeling his hot breath on your lips.

"well, shall we get to business? before you change your mind faster this time? wouldn't want the poor man to have the same fate as i."

anger, along with regret, pools in the bottom of your stomach. anger that he didn't reach out to you. and regret for what you did that caused him not to.

"choi... choi san? the owner of that watch brand? well, this watch brand." he shows you his wrist, the familiar watch design shining under the boutique lights. "can you believe that? i can afford it and not go bankrupt. i have to admit the prices are whopping, but it is a really nice-"

"can you stop fucking shitting on me and give me a chance to speak?" you interrupt him this time, brows furrowed and nails digging into your palms.

"fine. go." he sits on the couch in the middle of the room, putting his leg over the other.

"that day... i just-"

"no. speak of the design you want." he interrupts again, making that bubble of anger inside of you bigger and bigger, threatening to burst any moment. "you haven't come here to explain yourself. nor did you ever think of doing that. just because i had a few things to say doesn't mean i want to hear you out. now, speak. long? short? sleeves? no sleeves? easier to unzip so you can leave faster without anyone noticing you?"

your palms burn from the intensity of your nails digging into your skin, and your teeth abuse the insides of your cheeks. "fuck you."

hongjoong abruptly stands up from the couch, causing you to stumble back in order to defend yourself. "me? fuck me? what did i ever do to you besides loving you?"

"you didn't listen. if only you did, we could've been married by now. we weren't financially ready then-"

"i had found a job. i saved up. i wanted to surprise you with a new apartment. but you surprised me with my own wedding gown laying on the floor without the love of my life in it. i have to admit, you outdid me there. did not see that one coming."

"i didn't know about your job."

"of course you didn't. you didn't want to know. your family brainwashed you. tell me, is san filthy rich? is he the one paying for this dress?"

his voice is dripping with bitterness, and his sour smile makes your insides turn uncomfortably. you're not used to seeing him be this mean. but something tells you that you will never see the pure side of hongjoong you've known ever again.

"did your parents adore him as soon as they heard his name? after all, he can afford a lavish wedding. he can give you anything you ask for. all i could give you was the ability to disappoint them with your partner choice. my apologies for that, by the way. i should've known better."

"stop. i'm leaving."

"no, you're not. your little assistant made a contract with us, and you are not to leave the shop until you have your dream gown."

"i don't want your fucking gown."

"boo-hoo. cut the tears, dollface. you're not in a position to be sad or angry. i, however, am in a position to chew you out for what you did to me."

"and you're not chewing me out right now?" you reply, angry tears streaming down your face. you hate crying from frustration.

"this is me holding back, my ex lover. you don't wish to hear me unleash."

stubborn, you straighten your back and walk towards him, until you are mere inches away from his face. "unleash, then. let me hear what you've been brewing all those years."

the man doesn't flinch. instead, he hands you a gown from the rack, shoving it into your hands. "go try that on."

"i don't-"

"go."

letting out a shaky exhale, you enter the dressing room. you finally look at yourself in the mirror. slightly smeared mascara, a few wet trails on your cheeks, and frizzy hair. when you put on the dress, you look just like the day of your wedding; dressed up, hopeless, and troubled. it's like deja vu, putting your hair in a claw clip so that you can see the dress better. tears of anger slowly turn into tears of sadness. you have robbed yourself of your first love, and him of his happiness. you turned him into a bitter man.

"suits you." he comments nonchalantly, hands crossed over his chest. "now, i wonder. by the look on your face, you did not know i own this place or design the pieces in it. what did you think i did after you left?"

"i didn't think." a lie.

"did you think i'd drown in tears from sadness?"

"you know, it seems to me that you thought about me more than you wish to admit." you play his game.

"i am not afraid to admit anything. i did think about you. i ran after you. your best friend stopped me. said you were not worth it. that you'll forever let your parents navigate your life. some best friend, huh?"

you didn't hear from her, or anyone else. nobody reached out to you, and you didn't reach out to anybody. it seemed like a mutual silent decision. and it killed you inside.

"try this one." he hands you another. "might be a bit big, but i'll adjust it."

the switch from professional to whatever the other thing is scares you. so you listen. it's the least you can do. you want to get your dress already, and he might get closure. both of you might. the second dress is plain satin with a corset top. it accentuates your eyes, and isn't revealing, with a simple sweetheart neckline. the pearl straps are made to fall off the shoulders, showing off your collarbones. hongjoong had a fixation for your collarbones, always leaving a hickey or two when making love to you.

you look at yourself with disgust. you're choosing a wedding gown for a man of your dreams, and your mind wanders to the way the man outside the dressing room marked your body every chance he got.

"come out, bride." he calls, and you can't tell if he is mocking you or really means it.

you come out, collarbones on full display, and mascara still smeared. he was ready to throw another comment, but upon seeing you, words get stuck in his throat. his jaw drops slightly, and eyes roam your figure hidden in the satin layers. your waist invites him, as does your unmarked skin. and you know desire in his eyes when you see it. and you hate that you feel it pooling in your core as he approaches you.

"you told me to unleash?" he whispers.

"yes. please do." you beg, hoping to finally close this chapter of your life. "don't hold back. i can take it."

he looks at your teary eyes, chewing the inside of his cheek. he always did that when he thought hard. finally, he steps closer, until your chests almost touch. the towers over you, making your head tilt slightly so you can look at him. the sight is too familiar to him; you below him, teary eyed and smeared makeup. the only thing missing being his load coating your cheeks.

"i hate you."

"okay." you gulp, looking at his chest in front of you.

"i hate what you've done to me. i hate that i ever loved you. i hate that you moved on so easily, while i had to stay back and live in a town where everything reminded me of you. i hate that i was so gullible, thinking we could have a future together. i hate that i thought i was good enough for you."

"hongjoong-" you wish to stop him before you break down. but he doesn't. instead, he places a hand on your neck, causing you to gasp and look up at him once again. your hands wrap around his one wrist in hopes of removing it. "hongjoong-"

"most of all..." he pushes you against the wall, putting light pressure on the sides of your neck. he brings his face close to yours, so close that your noses touch and lips brush each other. when he speaks, you feel how soft and warm they are, and hear how venomous his words are. "...i hate that i still fucking love you. i hate how good you look in a dress you wear for another. i hate that another one is kissing you, touching you, giving you everything that i couldn't. i hate how stunning you look, and i hate myself for being so weak to your mere existence. i hate that you look this good, and it is not for me."

"you're hurting me," you sob.

"you're hurting me, mrs choi. after all these years, you still hurt me." two tears escape his eyes, and he shuts them and furrows his eyebrows. "i hate that i can smell him on you."

his grip softens, but he doesn't remove his hand from your neck just yet. you swallow, before letting his wrist go and instead wiping his tears away. he opens his eyes, not expecting a soft approach from you. when he looks at you, you don't see the resentment anymore. you see pure pain. and you hate to admit that you feel the same.

"we could've been perfect together."

"we could've." you confirm, moving his damp strands from his face and brushing his hair in the process. it is as soft as you remember it. he closes his eyes again under your touch, exhaling and letting himself go in your arms.

"please," he whispers. "one last time."

your moves halt, and your brain freezes. your heart thumps loud inside your chest, and you're sure he can feel it too. "what?"

"one last time." the dark haired man allows his hand to slide from your neck, index finger following an imaginary line down your neck and running over your collarbones. "let me give you a chance to change your mind."

you wish to say no. with all your heart. you love san, more than anything. you've grown with san, you've created a new future with him. but your love for hongjoong is... familiar. old. nostalgic. and still undead. it was buried alive, and you didn't even know it.

"please..." his whispers become softer, and lips closer to yours.

"don't..." you try, voice an equal whisper.

"please," he begs again, his other hand sliding to your waist and pressing your body against his.

"don't," you say, voice shaking as you fight your brain and heart, both already at war with each other.

he closes the distance, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. it is a split second, but in that second, he opens the pandora's box, unleashing everything bad about you. you gulp, feeling his scent envelop you. he smells like rain and jasmine, and it blends with his natural scent so well.

"please," he kisses you again, each kiss short and sweet, and full of pain and desire.

"don't."

"please."

"don't..." the hand that was on your collarbones slides to the zip on the back of the dress, undoing it smoothly and loosening your dress. "stop..."

he kisses you again, spilling begging words over and over, and you do not push him away, despite your words. "please."

"don't..." you exhale when his hands cup your bare breasts. "stop."

"y/n."

"don't stop."

"my love."

"don't stop."

"my beautiful."

"don't stop."

"my only one."

"please don't stop."

as if you shattered the invisible wall that held him back, hongjoong lets your dress pool on the floor and picks you up, pinning you against the wall and making your legs wrap around his body. his lips hungrily search for yours, kissing, sucking, biting, everything he dreamed of for the past few years you were gone.

your hands roam his body, taking off his coat and helping him out of his turtleneck. your tongue finds his, eager to taste him again. you hum the moment you touch the hot muscle, which generously gives you back equal attention. he tastes the same. he tastes like home.

"i should've ran until my legs stopped working. i should've called until my finger became numb. i should've called out your name until my voice faded." with each sentence, he gets rid of a piece of clothing, until your bare bodies are pressed against each other on the soft couch.

you don't speak, instead pulling him by his hair to kiss him again. he chuckles lightly into the kiss, your eagerness amusing to him. you're not in the mood for any foreplay, core already dripping with arousal and desire to feel him after many years.

"i want you to say it out loud." he stops for a moment, looking deep into your eyes.

"don't make me say it."

"i need you to. otherwise, i'm leaving."

"hongjoong..." guilt eats up your heart, the image of san appearing before your eyes.

"say it. say you want me. say you want me to make love to you and send you back to your future husband with my marks and scent all over you."

"i want you." you whisper.

"what was that?" he leans in closer, holding your jaw in one hand while his other one gently spreads your legs.

"i want you, hongjoong."

"atta girl." he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "i won't be gentle."

you nod, excitement overshadowing the guilt from your infidelity. hongjoong doesn't let you adjust like he always did. instead, he places his hot, leaking tip to your entrance, and slides in easily and deeply. your nails dig into his back, and walls welcome the familiar girth. you both moan into each others mouths, and stand still for a few moments. it is the sudden moment of realization when you look at each other than makes his eyes become darker, and he spares no time before pulling out and slamming his hips against yours again.

his lips leave yours, letting you moan and whine freely as your fingers pull at his hair. his tongue leaves a trail down your neck, all the way to your collarbones. he sinks his teeth into your skin, pulling the thin flesh between them and harshly sucking. you yelp, but don't push him away. you'll let him have this. you don't feel it after the second bite, instead focusing on the way his cock relentlessly slams into you, abusing the sensitive spot and inching you closer to an orgasm already.

his grip on your waist is sure to leave bruises, and right now, you do not care how you will conceal it.

"hongjoong..." you gasp.

"yes, doll?"

"i need- i don't want to cum yet." you admit.

he pulls away, enough to turn your body over so that you are laying on your stomach. he raises your hips, and presses your head against the soft surface of the couch. then, he slams his hips into yours, speeding up his moves. you are a moaning and drooling mess, not being used to being used this roughly. san was passionate, and not soft. but not rough either. hongjoong is just that: his hatred for you might be the main initiator.

"i'll send you back to your fiancé full of my seed." he growls, pulling your hair back.

your nails dig into the cushions, and eyes look at the mannequins in the show window. you don't have time to feel guilty again, because hongjoong wraps his hand around your neck and picks up your body so that your head rests on his shoulder and you can look at him as he drills into you from behind.

"look at me when i'm fucking you."

your hips hopelessly work with his, body tired from chasing the orgasm already.

"is my darling tired?"

you simply whimper at his question, the grip on your neck too strong for any other response. he pulls away once again, wasting no time in picking you up and walking over to the mirror. he lets you face it, palms pressed against the cold surface. he slides back in, deliciously filling you up to the brim. your own expressions of pleasure sicken you. and you hate that you are loving it.

hongjoong looks at you through the mirror, soft grunts and gasps escaping his mouth each time he collides with your ass. his hand finds its way to your mouth, shoving two fingers inside while his other one toys with your clit.

"look at you." he says, eyes locked with yours. you're unable to look away. "taking your ex man's cock while you try on wedding dresses for another."

you simply moan, not knowing what to say. it is hot, and painful.

"does your fiancé know you'll be wearing my dress when you walk down the aisle? does he know that the hands that made it have also been on his future wife's body?"

when you don't answer, he hits your ass cheek, causing you to jolt. "no, no! he doesn't! please, please make me cum."

"i'll let you cum. if you tell me one thing." he brings your body close to his again so he can whisper in your ear. his hips stop for a moment.

"anything." you whine.

"is his cock better than mine?"

there is no better. both of them have their ways of pleasuring you, and you enjoy both. you pull away and turn around to face him. you skim over his features, taking in his glowing face due to sweat and body full of scratches from your nails. the nails you are supposed to have for your wedding.

"no." you finally reply.

"that's a good fucking girl."

hongjoong pushes you against the mirror, this time facing you. he holds your legs over his elbows, body hovering above the floor and back pressed against the mirror. he reaches a new angle, and this time, you know you'll burst fast. all you need is a few more strokes.

"cum for me, baby. cream all over my cock."

your nails continue to dig into his back, and your forehead finds comfort against his. you moan into each others mouths, each chasing your own peak and enjoying the noises that the other has to offer. when you finally spill over the edge, you moan louder than ever, hands hopelessly pushing his body against yours for comfort. his pants turn into moans, and hips become sloppy as he also reaches his peak and shoots his load inside you. you feel fuller than ever, hole clenching around his pulsating cock. you help him ride it out, moving your hips as best as you can from this position.

once down from the high, you bring yourself to look at him one more time.

"i'll never see you again after this, will i?" he whispers, lips already missing yours.

"no, hongjoong. our story is over. i'm sorry."

he only smiles, pressing a final kiss to your lips before pulling away. he leaves to get something to clean yourself, leaving you alone in the room.

your reflection stares back at you through the stained mirror, prints of your body clear as day. bruises decorate your body after a long time, and your makeup melts from your face. facing hongjoong was a challenge.

facing san will be an even bigger one.

as if he knew you thought about him, the phone rings inside your purse in the dressing room. you rush over there, fingers eager to press the green button.

"hey, wifey. how's the gown shopping going?"

"it's-" your voice comes out raspy, and you have to cough to get rid of it. "it's going well. i think i finally know what i want." and you don't mean the dress.

"oh, i'm so proud of you. i can't wait to see you in it. “you’ll look stunning. should i pick you up?"

"you don't have to. i'll be there in a few."

"alright, princess. i love you."

"i love you too."

once you hang up, you exit the room and find hongjoong waiting with the towel. his eyes are glossy, but he holds control over the tears this time. "you know i'll always hate you."

you laugh, pain ripping through your heart at the words. "i know."

"good."

he gets on his knees, cleaning you in silence, before whispering something. if you weren't focused on every sound he made, you would've missed it.

"don't forget me."

taglist:

@unholywriters @jjoongstar @arki-sha @dawn-iscozy @slvtiny @maltesejjong @ate-ez @katelins27 @kodzukein @almondmilkeu @woomyteez @mulletdaddyjayjo @bae4choi @haatohwa @marvelahsobx @angellluh @jjaemasung @oddracha @itza-meee

[captain-joongz]

fanfiction recommendations/my favourite reads in 2023

ot8/multiple members

♤ in the same class as ateez by @essenteez

◇ murphy's law by @atzfilm

alien!ateez, soulmate au

♧ into the aurora by @honeyhotteoks

idol!ateez x non-idol!reader

☆ inception by @remedyx

dragon!ateez, kings!ateez

♤ hotel california + paradise gardens by @mint-yooxgi

demon!ateez, yandere, supernatural au

◇ morning mist by @mint-yooxgi

dragon au, fated lovers

♧ deep down. by @seventhcallisto

a/b/o, idol au, 9th member au

☆ in love and lore by @shadowynn

demon!ateez, soulmates au, supernatural au

♤ dew drops at dawn by @sunmoonjune

demon!ateez, soulmates

◇ breed by @sanjoongie

alien!ateez, sexual experiments

♧ oh my *** by @ohmyamor

guardian angel!ateez

☆ first flight to hong kong by @byuntrash101

flight attendant!reader, kind of sex work, since reader gets paid

♤ circus by @lani-heart

hybrid!ateez, writer!journalist!reader

◇ wider by @seventhcallisto

9th member au, bf!ateez

♧ the best friend's code by @tenelkadjowrites

hongjoong, seonghwa x reader, best friends to lovers

☆ we ransacked the city by @tenelkadjowrites

hongjoong, seonghwa x reader, rich kids au, menaces to society united

♤ be the light by @written-in-flowers

seonghwa, hongjoong x reader, historical au, royalty au

◇ sex and embers and frost by @sanjoongie

dragon!seonghwa, san x bunny!reader

♧ between friends by @anyamaris

seonghwa, hongjoong x reader, best friends au

☆ my filthy boy by @potatomountain

bf!woo x reader x witch/hybrid!ateez, coven shenanigans

♤ compromise by @cyberpxnk

bf!seonghwa x reader x footballer!yunho, infidelity with a twist

◇ it's you by @holybibly

best friends to lovers, threesome

♧ sharing is caring by @ja3hwa

seonghwa, hongjoong, san x reader

☆ ateez as royals who fall for you (hyung line) + (maknae line) by @eightmakesonebraincell

♤ five for five by @bh-archive

hongjoong x san x chan x hyunjin x juyeon x reader

kim hongjoong

◇ red by @nateezfics

established relationship, public sex, bathroom sex

♧ forbidden fruit by @nateezfics

greek mythology au, hades!hongjoong

☆ deal by @hongism

roommates to lovers, sassy joong

♤ marigold by @yoongiseesawmp3

frat boy!hongjoong, best friends to lovers

◇ tell me to stop by @tenelkadjowrites

best friends to lovers

♧ declaration by @tenelkadjowrites

virgin!hongjoong, roommates to lovers

☆ shells by @last-words-ofashootingstar

mermaid!hongjoong, yandere

♤ project d by @setsugekka

exes to lovers, infidelity, racing au

◇ off the table by @setsugekka

established relationship, morning sex

♧ the dressing room by @imaginidol

idol!hongjoong, best friends to fucking (?) for "stress relief"

☆ paint me yours by @moonseonghwa

artist!hongjoong, fwb au

♤ ohmami by @bambikisss

bad boy!hongjoong, racer au (mentioned), best friends to lovers

◇ hideaway by @minisugakoobies

stoner!frat boy!hongjoong, strangers to lovers

♧ what lies beneath by @noramoons

siren!hongjoong, a little angsty but wholesome

park seonghwa

☆ better check twice by @essenteez

accidental nude au, brother's best friend!seonghwa

♤ attention by @tenelkadjowrites

camboy!seonghwa x inexperienced reader

◇ essence by @whatudowhennooneseesyou

siren!seonghwa, dark, yandere, mommy!seonghwa

♧ the thing about pretty boys by @wonusite

friends to lovers, seonghwa proving he got it

ATEEZ rec list pt.2 BTS, TxT, Stray Kids, Seventeen, NCT rec list

[sweetinsaniiity]

My Heart, I Surrender

► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - intruder!san x virgin!reader ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜/𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 - smut with plot, age gap of 10 years (but both full adults), sociopathic tendencies but San is a !gentleman, suspense, somnophilia, fingering, hair-pulling, , corruption kink, breeding kink, oral sex (FL receiving), creampie, no protection (do NOT do this!), tit sucking, rough sex, size kink, overstimulation, cum tasting ◄ ► 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - MDNI, sexual assault, degrading name calling (slut, whore), non-consent sex, reluctance, gaslighting and manipulation to give in ◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 16.5K (goal was 14K but oh well) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - The most unforgettable night of your life happens when an intruder breaks in and steals your body, your innocence, and your heart. ◄

► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - If this is triggering to you, please do not continue. This is a work of fiction not meant to represent the members in real life. I DO NOT CONDONE THIS TYPE OF ENCOUNTER. This is not a go-signal for anyone to do this. This is a fantasy and IT SHOULD STAY THAT WAY. You have been warned. More notes towards the end. Join the taglist here. Title from I Prevail ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - @ginger-mingi ◄

The pouring rain has always provided me with a sense of comfort I cannot even begin to explain. I wasn't sure if it was the sound of it hitting the pavement, or even the smell of it as it watered the meadow fields. Oh, the fresh scent of it when it hits my nose when I inhale brings serenity.

So here I stood under a dingy, little waiting shed where I sought shelter from the rain that I claimed to love.

I looked left and right hoping to see a bus coming while I rubbed my arms and my teeth chattered, but nothing. Even the waiting shed did absolutely nothing to shield me from the biting cold.

I sighed, instantly regretting not making it on time here for the other bus. With nothing better to do, I sat back down on the somewhat clean-ish seat that the shed provided and waited it out. If it wasn't for the rain, I would have been busy admiring the lush trees and the beautiful spring flowers that surrounded the area like I always usually did when I waited for the bus.

I perked when I saw headlights to my left through the haze, but I quickly became disappointed when I realized it wasn't my bus, it was just a car passing by.

"Damn," I deflated back onto my seat. dejected at the thought of staying in this shed for longer than I wanted to.

I stared at the oncoming car, suddenly wishing I could drive. I wouldn't be waiting if I knew how. It came faster and faster until I was able to make out its model and its colour - a sleek black.

And then it completely stopped in front of me.

I frowned, confused and then got frightened at what the owner possibly wanted. It could be anything, but the one that struck in my mind was some sick psycho that wanted to do things to me, a lone girl in a deserted area.

I cursed in my mind when I looked around and nobody was around to hear me scream for help just in case. I looked down suddenly, finding my shoes interesting, hoping that the driver would go away soon.

I bit my lip when I heard the distinct sound of a car window rolling down. Oh God, I thought nervously. Was I about to get kidnapped?

"Y/N?"

As if I wasn't nervous enough. My confusion grew not only because I heard my name out of nowhere, but that voice sounded a little too familiar.

I looked up and my heart stopped beating for a second or two. He was the kind of handsome that made me hold my breath and those chestnut eyes that stared already spoke to me before he even said a word.

"M-Mr. Choi!" I blurted out in mild surprise. I stood up and began to approach his car but quickly stumbled when I realized it was still raining. "W-What are you doing here?"

I blushed profusely when he smiled at me, it was heart-melting, especially when his dimples popped out from his cheeks. I mentally cursed myself for being this embarrassing in front of him.

"This is near my workplace," he replied. He slowly raked his eyes from my feet all the way to my face and his smile grew wider. "How long have you been waiting for the bus?" 

"Almost an hour," I replied truthfully.

His smile drops slightly and he clicks his tongue. He presses on something and I hear the click of something unlocking. "Get in," he cocked his head towards the passenger seat.

My face heats up even more if that was possible. "Oh," I squeak out. "I-I couldn't possibly impose on you, I'm fine, really."

"Please, I insist," he pauses to gauge my reaction. "I would feel awful if I just left you here stranded."

I was weighing my options, but the reality was, I was afraid he would hear how hard my heart was beating if I was to go into the same space as him, let alone something as intimate as a car.

He sighed when he saw me doubting. "We live in the same complex anyway, plus that bus won't be coming soon," he insisted.

I pursed my lips together, and it didn't escape his attention. He was right, I was the one being unreasonable. Plus, I knew him. I knew   he had pure intentions - to simply just take me home.

"Okay," I murmured, finally agreeing to his insistence.

I stopped breathing when he broke out into the widest grin. "Good," he beamed. 

I was about to move and get my stuff from the seat when Mr. Choi got out of the car and started to walk towards me through the rain. "You're going to get wet!" I tried to stop him.

"A little rain wouldn't hurt me," he shot me a wink and I almost fainted at the sight.

He passed me and I caught a whiff of his cologne, the smallest hint of it already transporting me into places I don't dare go in. He carried my stuff for me as he opened the umbrella I didn't even notice he had because I was busy looking at him.

"L-Let me carry the umbrella, at least," I offered like a decent human being. I made a move to grab the umbrella, but he quickly moved it away.

I glanced up at him and I was taken aback by the sharp and scathing look he gave me, but it was gone in less than a second. He opened the car door for me and I immediately forget about it. To his warm cologne and his even warmer actions, it was easy to like him.

"Cold?" he asked as he buckled his seatbelt. I nodded, not that I had a choice, I was literally shivering when I got in.

I murmured a small 'thank you' when he upped the heat in his car, and just like that, we drove away from that wretched waiting shed. I held in a satisfied exhale as I sank into the softest and most comfortable seat I've ever sat on.

"You said your workplace was near here?" I began to speak in hopes to fill in the awkward air. "May I ask what you do?"

"I have a startup company along with my friends downtown. You know that 7-Eleven by the corner?" I nodded slowly and he hummed. "It's near that area. I always pass this road to go home."

So that explains the aura he exuded - mature, well-put together. And, by God, the way he always dressed. Today, he wore a business suit that was tailored so well and emphasized his body. It made him look like he had power.

"You?" he continued. "Where have you been?"

"Oh, I just met up with a couple of my friends," I shrugged. "Got a little too carried away and missed my ride."

"No one offered to take you home?"

"They all live on the other side of the city, plus my complex is far. I don't mind riding the bus."

There was a moment of hesitation on his face. "I can drive for you from now on," he offered as he glanced at me side-eyed while he tried to focus on the road.

I watched him side-eyed as well, afraid to turn my head to stare at him head on. My mouth felt dry and I didn't know what to say, and there was a certain gentleness in his voice that made me want to reach out to him.

"N-No, I don't want to be a bother, Mr. Choi."

"San."

"Huh?" I asked, confused.

In an instant, he turned and our eyes finally met. "Just call me San."

"I-I can't possibly do that," I muttered. I felt my heart lodge onto my throat, but I tried to play it cool. "You are my senior."

He put on the most inviting, volatile, and apathetic smirk. It was such the opposite expression to his usual gentleness. "Why?" San raised a mischievous brow. "Your boyfriend is going to get mad?"

I couldn't move, it felt like I would have to muster tremendous effort to do so, and my brain was lagging. I had to think and move well.

"No, I don't have a boyfriend," I finally uttered. His smirk grows bigger, though I chose to ignore it.

"That settles it, then," San chuckled more to himself, the sound of it so low that it brought shivers to my spine.

He noticed it and before I could turn away from him clearly flustered, a grin spread across his face and made him look even more handsome than he already was, if it was possible. I'm pretty sure my face was redder than a tomato right now.

"Are you going to be a dear and think about it, at least?" San looked left and right on the street before driving across the familiar intersection that led to the complex.

At that moment, I felt my body flush warm. I must have made a small sound of agreement because San let it go for now and finally concentrated on driving both of us. I'm not even sure, and I don't want to care right now.

It was silent, the only sound we could hear was the rain hitting the roof of the car and the heater whirring in the air. Outside there is no traffic and the light had finally gone, which might mean that it was almost nighttime. The fragile peace had taken over us, and it gave me moments to think.

Being in the car with the one and only Choi San definitely wasn't in my list of things to do today. He was well-known in the complex we lived at immediately after he moved in a couple of months ago. He wasn't my neighbour, not even close, but even he had caught my unassuming eye.

He was attractive - hot, to be frank. When he walked into the room, it seemed as if conversation stopped to sit in stunned silence, he had all of our attention and he knew it. He knew damn well we all found him attractive, yet he never let it all go into his head. He was the sweetest gentleman who always smiled and helped around without asking for something in return.

I couldn't help the admiration I felt for him, and it wasn't only me who held a high opinion of him, everyone I knew did so that automatically doesn't make my admiration anything special in itself.

Or maybe mine was something more. I quickly brushed the thought away from my mind because I knew that it was impossible. San might not even look or want somebody that was much younger than him. In this case, if I wasn't mistaken, I was a good ten years younger than him.

"You look like you want to say something," San suddenly spoke.

"Do you have a family?" I sputtered out before I could stop myself.

I was waiting for San to laugh or think I'm stupid, or perhaps make a snide remark of how nosy I was getting, but it never came.

"No, I currently don't," he replied, the gentleness he was known for back in his voice.

Which means that he's open to having one in the future.

"I see," I trailed off. I didn't know what else to say, I already got the answer to my question.

I choked on my next breath when I felt San's right hand grab my thigh. Almost robotically, my head slowly swivels to stare at him wide-eyed with unparalleled surprise. He stayed focused on the road, but I saw a ghost of a smirk grace his lips.

"Close your mouth, doll," San whispered, his voice dropping into a husky rasp. "Look away."

It took everything in me to do so and stare straight ahead on the unwinding road. The sudden grab made my heart pound so hard, the way his thumb would slowly caress my thighs left goosebumps in its wake.

"Mr. Choi," I began, trying very hard to keep my voice leveled, but we both knew that it sounded shakier than the sky right now.

He side-eyes me once more, his other hand still maneuvering the steering wheel, and raised a brow. "I told you," he griped. "It's San."

A shaky breath left my mouth when he squeezed my thigh. It was enough for me to feel it, but not enough for it to hurt - not even close. He let go momentarily and drummed his slender fingers on my thighs, instead. I swallowed as I stared at his sinful fingers, the things they could do...

"Say my name."

I snapped out of the indecent thoughts from my head before they could fully form. "Pardon?" I questioned.

He chuckled, this time, those dimples of his popped out again. I could have sworn my heart leapt out of my chest. "I said," San spoke, his voice quiet but firm. "Say my name."

"B-But--"

"Say it."

I gasped when he squeezed my thigh with more pressure. It still didn't hurt, but something else of mine hurt. "Okay, okay," I sighed. "S-San."

His lips stretched into a satisfied grin and he finally let go and kept his hand to himself. "Good girl," he smiled.

The hair on my nape prickled at the way San's voice - deep, thick, and most of all, powerful - but that wasn't even the worst part. He was smiling, and that smile was something he reserved when he was being the sweetest, most precious gentleman everybody knew him to be.

What have I gotten myself into? Was he not who everybody, including me, thought he was? My chest was about to explode, my hands were getting clammy and I was close to hyperventilating as I leaned closer to the door to try and avoid him.

Soon enough, we reached the apartment complex and he had slowly stopped the car in front of my apartment. I don't know how he knew where I lived, but at this point, I was not even going to ask. I might hear something I was not ready to hear.

"T-Thank you," I mumbled and hurriedly grabbed my things so I could get the hell out of his car as fast as humanly possible. There was no way I was staying in it longer - it was suffocating.

I speedwalked immediately away and I was about to be completely out of his sight when he stopped me and called me back. "Y/N, wait."

I cursed under my breath and begrudgingly looked back at him with an expectant gaze. The tremors in my heart upped when I saw that beautiful smile I always found attractive on him.

"I'll see you later, doll," he said with hopeful vigor. Did I want to see him again?

"I highly doubt it," I nervously tucked a stray hair out of my face to avoid looking at him. At the end of the day, he was kind enough to take me home but it ended there. We had nothing in common and there was no way he would look at me like that.

He smirked, the dark look in his eyes made me shrink from where I stood. "You never know."

He definitely doesn't mean that. Right?

I didn't bother to watch his car drive off. I quickly ran into my apartment and straight into the shower in record time to take the grime off of my body and hopefully, relax.

That was wishful thinking on my part. There was absolutely no way I could erase that odd encounter with San from my brain in the next few weeks. 

I stood still in the shower and let all the water flow from my scalp all the way down to my toes. Heat filled my entire body when I stared at the section where San had squeezed my thighs. It was slightly pink from the pressure, something that would face away in a couple of minutes.

The way his personality would switch in a matter of seconds creeped the living hell out of me. He went from being so endearing to something else completely that went over my brain capacity.

I frowned, not fully able to comprehend how San was as a person. This is exactly why you should never take a person at face value - they might end up surprising you in ways you never thought was even possible.

I dried my hair, still in a daze. Usually I would spend some time with skin and body care, but tonight I didn't care enough to even make an effort, so after I was done with my hair, I put on my favourite silk nightgown.

I decided to sit down momentarily on the couch to do some deep thinking, but that ended up being a dud. Within moments, I was asleep.

I stirred awake in the middle of the night, I was confused, I was the type who slept like a log once I'm out - this means I usually never wake up in between my sleep, if not, at all. I tried to shake the confusion and moved my arm towards the bedside table to grab my phone.

'4:20 A.M.'

I groaned softly, frustrated at the fact that it's dead in the night and I was sentient. I had to work in a few hours and I never did well when my sleep pattern was disturbed. I willed myself to sleep and put the blanket over my head.

I opened my eyes, startled. Blanket?

I tried to make sense of what my mind was slowly realizing. I was in bed when I knew for a fact that I had fallen asleep on the couch hours ago.

My brain alerted me into panic and this time, I was fully awake. Maybe I had walked to my bed half asleep and I just didn't remember it? Impossible. I was a heavy sleeper, I would have definitely remembered if I got up unceremoniously. So the question was, how am I here, and how long have I been here?

I sat up, rubbing my eyes timidly to will the sleepiness away from me. Maybe I have just been stressed out at work and am blacking out sometimes, which was worrying if that really was the case.

I looked at the couch I was in and everything was fine, except for the dark figure sitting down on it. I stared for a few minutes before shaking my head.

"Definitely tired," I mumbled to myself, disoriented, before laying back down and trying to fall back asleep. I wonder what that was...

My heart dropped to my stomach when I realized what the hell I just saw and I opened my eyes once more, this time, the sleepiness was fading away. A dark figure sitting on my couch?

How long has it been here just watching me sleep? I stiffened, the energy in the room felt absolutely different. I stayed still, listening quietly if something would be moved or if I was really imagining things. 

But nothing. Just the thick, sinister silence that enveloped the room. With mild unease slowly creeping up to me, I chose to stay still in fear, hoping that this was only a dream and that thing was a figment of my imagination.

Except that I knew it wasn't. I knew it was a person. I saw that it was a man. He was sitting comfortably on my couch with his arms crossed, watching me sleep.

My worst fears came to life when I heard a shuffle and the distinct sound of somebody getting up from the couch. My heart started beating frantically when I felt the bed dip behind me. I tried not to flinch at the sudden intrusion, I tried not to breathe either.

Who was in my bed? How in the world did they even get in? I was a thousand percent sure I locked the door when I came home too, so how? Luckily, the only other entrance to my apartment - my window - was in my direct view, and my heart dropped when I saw that it was wide open.

'Please, go away, please,' I prayed inside my head, but things never really worked out like that, didn't they?

I felt a large hand touch my leg, its presence leaving a burning feeling upon my skin. It stayed there for what seemed like forever until it gently lifted the blanket up a bit so the hand could slide up my skin.

I tried to remain unmoved as my mind struggled to make sense of what was happening and I almost let out a whimper when I felt the rough hand slowly caress my skin and it wept higher until it stopped at my clothed thigh. His hand was dangerously close to my core and it was terrifying.

I shut my eyes as tightly as possible, the dread of waiting what he was going to do next making me want to pass out in extreme horror. 

He did the unexpected - he lifted his hand away from my thigh and I would have been relieved, but I felt the mattress dip even more and I can tell from the movement that he was trying to climb the bed and stay next to me.

Tears started to pool in my eyes, I was petrified in fear. I heard the man sigh softly as he slowly started to stroke my hair in the warmest and gentlest manner. I stopped breathing when his fingers slowly started to trace my face - my cheeks, lips, nose.

"I know you're awake," I heard him whisper, cutting through the dead silence.

I willed myself to open my eyes and it took a while for them to adjust, but the panic seeps into me nonetheless when I saw him. He was sitting tentatively beside me, and since he was against the light, I still couldn't see his face clearly.

But I can tell he was huge. There was no way I could fight him.

"Did you...move me to the bed?" I asked, my voice shaking as I fought the tears from falling from my eyes.

"Yes," he replied, and the sound of it sent shivers to my body. He had a deeper voice, it was unfortunately pleasant to my ears.

"What do you want from me?" I asked next, afraid of what the answer might be. He began to stroke my hair again. "Please, don't do that..."

He tensed, his hand stopping at my head and I was terrified that he would start grabbing my hair, but surprisingly, he does stop. "A lot of things," he cryptically replied.

I suppress a whimper when I feel him move. I was too terrified to move and the intruder took the opportunity to lean down my ear. 

I exhaled a terrified sigh when I felt his breath hit my ear. I finally let out a whimper when he blew softly in my ear and more goosebumps flared up on my skin. He chuckled softly, the closeness of his proximity emphasizing how menacing it was.

"For example," I could hear the smirk in his voice. "You, for one." 

My eyes go wide, the reality of the situation crashing down on me abruptly, and I realize what his intentions were with me - he was going to assault me. 

Tears started streaming down my face, and without thinking, I  pushed the blanket off me and quickly tried to roll to the edge of the bed, but I didn't make it too far when I felt my feet being grabbed.

I screamed bloody murder when I was dragged roughly back into the middle of the bed, my hands grabbing I could to stop myself, but it was no use.

I was flipped to my back and I cried harder when he grabbed my arms violently and pinned them above my head as he straddled me.

"Please don't hurt me," I cried, my own pitiful voice getting to me. I closed my eyes as tightly as possible as if that would make the man on top of me vanish.

I flinched when I felt fingers stroke my cheek gently. "Shh, breath," he hushes. "I need you to calm down."

I struggled momentarily underneath him. I gasped when he pushed the hand he was using to pin both of mine on the bed with a pressure that was almost painful. "Stay still," he said, his voice taut.

I tried my luck again but all that earned me was a growl from him. "Stay still," he reiterated coldly, the gentleness in his voice gone. "And shut up."

I listened and I stayed still for what seemed like hours, my position vulnerable. I was afraid of what he'd do if I disobeyed.

I gulped when I felt him leaning forward, gasping quietly when I felt his other hand cup my cheek and give it a gentle kiss, his lips lingering for a while before he started whispering the most soothing words I'd hear for a while.

"Just like that, doll, breathe in and out for me," he mumbled tenderly. He started to soothingly stroke my skin - my face, my neck, my arms. "I am not going to hurt you."

"I'm going to scream if you don't get off me," I spoke in an attempt to threaten him, and it came out sounding pathetic.

He hummed like a gentle parent comforting their child. "There's really no need, I said I'm not going to hurt you, so don't be scared."

"Y-You're scaring me," I gulped, my eyes still closed.

How can I not be scared? He was huge and I knew for a fact that even if I died trying, I don't have a chance of overpowering him.

He planted a small kiss on the top of my head and I caught a whiff of his cologne. I froze, that smelled extremely familiar.

"Am I?" I heard him sigh. "I'm sorry."

I can hear and feel the blood rushing to my ears. Now that my sight is blank, all my other senses are stronger and I am now slowly realizing how awfully familiar his voice was sounding. I just couldn't pinpoint who exactly it was.

"Do I...know you?" I slowly asked, my chest heaving up and down to due my breathlessness.

Unfortunately, he noticed it. My breath hitched when his free hand, the one not pinning mine down, lightly brushed my hardened nipples. I cursed mentally for not wearing a bra tonight.

"You're a curious one, aren't you?" he mumbled before he stopped touching my breasts. I breathe a sigh of relief. A couple more seconds and I would have made a sound.

"Maybe you do," he continued. "Maybe you don't."

What a terrifying response. A stranger, an intruder, was in my home and basically holding me captive and I had no idea how far he would go tonight. 

I ignored him and my shaky voice sounded, "What do you intend to do to me?"

Fright constricted my chest when he leaned down and gave the soft skin on my neck little bites, pecks, and licks. "What do you want me to do to you?" his husky voice purrs into my ear.

Heat spreads all over my body at the involuntary pleasure I felt from the little of kisses, the small kissing sounds his lips were making against my skin loud in my ears and I ashamedly clenched my legs together. I felt him smile against my skin when my body betrayed me and I gasped a bit when he sucked on my skin.

"I'm going to make you feel good," he murmured, his free hand touching and squeezing my hips and sides, just stopping below my chest. 

I whined moving my head slightly in a poor attempt to get him off of me. It was extremely humiliating. "Don't," he warned, his voice rigid and gravely.

Tears started to form again in my eyes. It was so pathetic. Had I been stronger enough, I would have been out of here. I gasp when his hand kneads my breast, and he was doing it so tenderly as if he was afraid that I would burst if he wasn't careful enough.

"P-Please," I arched my back unwillingly towards his hand. I felt him groan deeply against my skin, the vibration sent shivers to my spine.

"Shh, I said stop moving," he held me tighter, more tensely. I got a bit frightened, he was so unpredictable that I didn't know how to act.

My brain can't properly wrap around the situation. He's an intruder, which I can only assume as someone who is never up to any good, but he is excruciatingly gentle, and the way he can make my body react to his touch was alarming.

"Ah!" I squealed when he suddenly pinched my nipple. He laughed huskily and he didn't do it again. My skin was on fire, I have never been more terrified in my life than right now.

"You feel so good, I can't wait to make you mine." he growled. "Not that you weren't yet."

It occurred to me that it must be a nightmare, perhaps I should just go with it, or maybe if she refused he would willingly leave. But that would never happen, he was here to take me.

I snapped back into reality when I heard the worst sound I could possibly hear all night - a zipper being undone.

I began thrashing and resisting again. "Wait, wait, please stop," I begged. "I-I'll give you anything you want, I have money---"

I screamed when his hand wrapped around my neck. "You're testing my patience, doll," he hissed, squeezing on the sides of my neck. 

I choked on little air, I was getting lightheaded before he let me go. I took big gulps of chair as I coughed, scared out of my wits. Oh God, I thought dreadfully. He's going to kill me!

"You move one more time," he whispered menacingly. "I am going to  shove my cock in you and fuck you like the little cumslut you are." I whined when he bit my shoulder painfully, I was pretty sure it drew blood. "You understand?"

When I didn't respond, he bit my shoulder harder. "Speak when told to," he growled.

"Yes! Yes! Okay, okay! Please," I cried like a wounded animal, - well, I am now - and he lets my shoulders go.

"Good. If you're a good girl, I won't do anything," he chuckled. He gave me soft kisses on the area he bit. "You poor thing..."

This was much worse than I thought. I hate this, I hate every single moment of this. I had noticed early on that if I did as he said, he would be fine, but the moment I acted up, he would get rougher.

"Anyway," he said sarcastically. "I don't want your money."

"Why not?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

He laughed amusingly. He had an infuriatingly attractive laugh. If only it wasn't too dark, I could have seen his face too. "Because money can't get me what I want right now." 

I frowned. "I'm going to call the police on you," I stated, my voice shaking, hoping that he'd get intimidated enough.

"Cute," he chuckled lowly. 

"Please, don't do this," I begged loudly. 

"Why not?" he clicked his tongue. "I promise that I wouldn't do anything you don't want."

"I don't want you here," I sniffled.

"Don't say that," he replied tensely, his grip on my hands tightening as well.

There was nothing more I wished for right now than somebody to help me. My mind drifted to Mr. Choi. He would have helped me if I asked. I regretted not getting his number like everyone did.

Even with the odd encounter in the car with him, I knew him to be of moral standards and he would help. He was the only one I knew big and strong enough to take this stranger down.

He finally let my hands go and I tensed as I felt him moving in on top of me. I whimpered when his hands spread my legs so he could lay down on me in between them. I blushed both in anger and embarrassment. I had no underwear tonight and I can feel his erection straining through his pants.

His mouth found mine and my eyes flew open immediately. He gave me an open mouthed kiss before pulling away to grasp the back of my neck.

"Look at me," he demanded roughly. I shook my head aggressively and in rebellion and turned my head to the side in spite. He can honestly kiss my ass---

"Oh," I rasped when his hand started to massage and knead my inner thighs. I winced when his mouth started to attack my neck again. This time he roughly bit and sucked, his tongue swirled all over the sensitive parts of my skin as his hands slowly went higher and higher at a dangerous pace.

I was overwhelmed with the odd mixture of pain, fear, pleasure, and hopelessness. The way his hot breath hit my ears was so distracting too.

"Doll, look at me," he whispered against my ear in a tortured voice. "I want to see your beautiful face."

"Please, stop! I really don't want to," I gritted my teeth.

He chuckled. "We'll see."

He lifts my nightgown up to my hips and before I knew it, his nimble fingers grazed my pussy. I was petrified, heat ignited my whole being. I hear his shaky breaths against my ear and I fight off the urge to even breathe, myself.

"Stop it, please, stop," I begged through my broken cries.

He ignored my pleas as he played with little tufts of my hair down there. I didn't shave, yes, but I wasn't expecting this either. He traces my pussy lips with a finger, sliding up and down, and I couldn't stop the moan from my lips when he goes in between.

"That feel good?" he whispered, his voice taut. He groaned when my body shakes beneath him as he circled my swollen clit. "I can give you more than this."

"N-No, please, I-I think I'm good," my voice trembled from the sensation.

"Then look at me," he commanded, his voice back to its kind tone as he coaxed me. "Please, doll."

"I don't know you enough for that type of connection," I swallowed. "Just get this over with."

"But you do know me, have you forgotten?" he mused, his fingers slowing down. I tried to rack my brain for anything, but there was nothing. When I didn't reply, he sighed. "I guess not."

His form went from slight amusement to a detrimental, subtle disappointment. I can feel his despondent stare penetrate through myself, and it was then I realized that he was actually disappointed at my lack of response. 

"That man in the car earlier," he began. "Who's that?"

I was confused at first, then I remembered what he was referring to. Terror washed over me, he was watching me when San had taken me home?

"A friend," I curtly replied, making it short and hopefully he'll buy it.

He scoffed lightly and removed his hands from my aching cunt. I was pleasantly surprised when he actually got off me and sat on the edge of the bed with his back turned on me. I breathed a sigh of relief but not for long because he still seemed like he wanted to ask more and I was right.

"A friend, huh?" he scoffed again. "It didn't seem like it earlier. There was definitely a connection there."

I gulped. This man was dangerous. He was watching close enough to know the difference. I had to tell him the truth. "It wasn't like that," I bit my lip. "Mr. Choi has always been kind, he's a key figure in the complex."

His back tenses. "Why? You think you don't have a chance or something?"

"That thought never even crossed my mind," I sighed.

"Why?"

His voice was very strained. I paused, not knowing what to say. It was unnerving and the silence was making me sweat. I stared at his form and I almost gasped when I looked up at his face.

I couldn't see it but the shadows in his side profile blew my mind. This man was clearly handsome, not that it mattered since he was a creep, but I don't know. Maybe I was expecting a drunkard of an imp. Certainly not this one.

He clenched his jaw and I had to restrain the cynicism in my eyes. "Is it the age gap?"

My eyes widened in surprise. How did he know? San definitely didn't look that old from afar. That or I'm the one who looks old.

"W-Well, not necessarily," I stammered. "Though that is a huge factor, yes." I had this urge to tell him the truth, I don't know why. "Plus, there's no way Mr. Choi would look at me in that way."

"How would you know? You never once spared even a glance in my direction."

I was confused at what he was referring to. He did say that I knew him, but I certainly don't remember anyone that I was close with enough for me to look at them. The physical aspect too, this man is big and sturdy, I don't remember...

My brows furrowed in concentration as the man stood up from my bed and my breath halted. That was a lie, I did know someone who looked like this.

He stepped into the light and I audibly gasped. I'd always known he was incredibly good-looking but the light that the moon gave him did him justice. His jawline was exquisite, such a contrast to his cat-like features, and by God, his body. 

He stared at me with a seriousness I'd never seen him wear before as he took his grey suit off. He was left with a black turtleneck sweater that did nothing to hide his large biceps from me. 

"S-San?" I uttered his name before I could stop myself, sitting up so I could take a good look at him and determine if he was an apparition or not.

I couldn't help the shock and the dread that came over me. The one person, I had been putting up on a pedestal, the one man I had been thinking of asking for help in my dire situation was none other my intruder.

"I am deeply disappointed with you, Y/N. Truly," he shook his head in mock concern and crossed his arms over his chest.

San stared at me as I attempted to cover my almost naked body with my blanket and a couple of pillows. "That's not going to help your case," he smirked.

"I'm going to scream," I said indignantly. San raised a brow in amusement. "I mean it, please get out! I won't tell anyone---"

"Scream, if you must," he shrugged nonchalantly, walking closer to the bed again. "I paid the neighbours for vacation. They're probably halfway across the world now," he grinned sadistically.

I gasped when he put his arms on the bed, leaned on me, and whispered in my ear. "It's just you and me, doll. So go ahead, scream. It turns me on."

I pushed him away from me hastily and edged myself to the corner of my bed. "You're a monster!" I screamed.

San laughed loudly. "Finally," he mused. "I was so sick of playing nice with you. I like you like this. You look prettier."

The way he laughed out loud maniacally and sadistically scared me almost half to death. It was loud, deep, and menacing and it reminded me of how the devil would laugh if it existed.

I was alone, so screaming really wouldn't do anything. And I certainly wasn't going to knowingly do anything that was going to excite him. That was a terrifying thought.

The fact that it was the Choi San - the well-known gentleman, the man who was known to always smile despite everything, the one who drove me home without anything in return, at that time at least, and the person who was beloved by everybody from children to elderly people.

And the one I had admired from afar because of those qualities. I felt betrayed, and it hurt more than I'd like to admit.

We stared at each other for a moment, unmoving. San's icy glare was shrouded with the unmistakable fire of anger and lust, and I was afraid of how he would hurt me if he had become a little too unstable.

"You're a sociopath," I declared after the awkward silence. 

He raised his brows in a seemingly displeased manner, but at the same time, I knew he was amused. "Oh? Pray tell, my pretty doll," he mocks. "Enlighten me."

"I mean it," I declared, exasperated. "Y-You can't just break into my apartment like this and expect me to like you afterwards! You're sick in the head!"

He sighed, looking away from and staring at the window he broke into. For a second, I thought he was rethinking his actions, but no. He wasn't the Choi San I knew him to be anymore, I wasn't sure how far his instability would take me.

He side-eyes me, I looked back expectantly. "You can just give in to me or we can do this the hard way," San convinced, his tone calm but persuasive. He knew he had the charm and he was using it to his advantage.

"You took that option away from me when you forced your way in here and touched me in ways I didn't want," I scoffed. 

I was about to say more choice words, when San whipped his head towards me fast and I noticed his eye twitching slightly and the veins popping on his forehead while he looked at me long, too long, and hard. I gulped. He was angry.

I know I shouldn't, I know that I'm digging my own grave here by talking back at him but I can't help it. Whether it was the betrayal, one only I knew, or the adrenaline, I wasn't sure.

"I wouldn't be so sure, Y/N," he hid his annoyance with arrogance. It was the first time he said my name tonight and it dripped with venom. "Come hell or high water, I will make you mine."

The conviction in San's voice at his confession was nothing short of astounding and the way he's looking at me right now, I can't stand the intensity of it - he would rather take death than failure right now.

"And who do you think you are?" I was irked, really irked actually. It was the easiest way to hide my panic. "And if I say no?"

San smirked, darkness shrouding his features like he was waiting for me to screw up and say something stupid so he had an excuse to finally say what he's been wanting to say.

"I'm going to fuck you," San dared, no hint of amuse left in his tone. "The plan was to make you submit, but if it's impossible, then I'll just take you. The choice is yours."

I was taken aback. "You wouldn't," I whispered.

San cocked his head to the side. "Would you like to test that theory?"

I can tell he was serious, too. I haven't known him well, but tonight was not the night to test his integrity and if he was a man of his word.

"Can we just do this next time?" I begged. "I-I can come up with a better proposition for us--"

"No," he quickly cut off. "I already called out of your work earlier, anyway. We have all night and morning."

My face contorts in confusion. "What?" I apprehensively asked.

San started to stalk towards me until he was at the end of the bed. I gulped, the way his muscles rippled against his clothes emphasized just how big he was and how powerless I was. 

He poked his tongue against the inside of his cheeks as he looked down on me, literally and figuratively. He exuded a power that you can't touch, and honestly, it made me realize how truly dominant he was.

"I know everything about you, doll," he said as he took his wristwatch off and placed it on my bedside table. "I wanted you the moment I saw you for the first time."

I was tense and I watched him take his necklace out next while maintaining eye contact with me. "I kept asking around about you because for some reason, we never were in the same place together. You know what they said?"

I swallowed restlessly when he started to unbuckle his belt next. "You were the sweetest, kindest, and now that I'm up close and personal, the most innocent thing too."

His eyes darkened by the second and it reminded me of that sharp and scathing look I thought I saw on him earlier before I got in his car. It clicked; which one was the real San?  

"I know everything about you, my doll, except for one thing," he smirked before he took his turtleneck sweater off. "I don't know how you sound when I'm inside you, yet."

"You can't do this," I whimpered pathetically, trying not to look at how unfortunately beautiful his naked torso was.

His smirks widened. "You asked me in the car earlier if I had a family." Finally, his pants were off too. "I could give you one right now."

I didn't even have the time to look at his body - both in embarrassment and denial - and I let out a loud cry of protest when San grabbed my legs again and pulled me towards him. I kicked to try and stop him from having a good grip, but he was too strong.

"Hey, stop! Get off of me!" I screamed when he got on top of me and pinned me down on my back again. He secured me by pinning my legs as well with his knees. "Stop!"

His hand covers my mouth and my screams drowned into a muffled cry instead. "Shut the fuck up," he hissed. My eyes widened in terror at his threatening tone.

His eyes were so dark, fierce, intense, and domineering and it was then that it sunk in that he really was going to have his way with me. I groaned when he bucked his hip onto my stomach. I panicked, I could tell that it was going to tear me into two.

"Get off me, you bastard!" I growled when San took his hand off my mouth.

He laughed that attractive laugh of his again, the dimples that made me like him popping out once more. "You don't listen well, huh? I told you to shut up."

"And I told you to leave me alone!" I snapped back. His eyes twinkle in amusement. "So both of us are bad at listening then!"

In an adrenaline rush, I spit on him, and my saliva landed directly on the corner of his mouth. He was surprised for a second before he covered it up with annoyance. "You're getting on my nerves," he chuckled without humour.

Without breaking eye contact with me, he stuck his tongue out and slowly, sensually, licked my spit for him to swallow. I feel a gush of wetness between my legs and my cheeks burn in embarrassment while I whine in denial.

He raised a brow, pleased. "Don't fight on this. Your body knows what it wants."

"Go to hell," I growled in refutation.

His eyes narrowed into slits. "What's that?" San spat out in anger.

His hand hastily grabs the front of my nightgown with such force that the straps both broke. I gasped and then groaned in pain when his hand grabbed my exposed breasts painfully.

"Please," I croaked, my voice strained. "Don't hurt me."

A startled cry escaped from my lips when he bit down on my hardened nipple and tears formed from my eyes. He looked up at me and his eyes softened when he saw the pitiful state I was in.

"Be still," mumbled apologetically. "I won't hurt you."

I exhaled in relief but that relief quickly washed off of me at San's next words.

"If you listen to what I tell you, I won't hurt you."

"Please, I can't do--ah!" I yelped when he bit my nipple again.

"I wasn't asking," he hissed. His tone left me no chance to argue with him.

I can feel the fear in my chest waiting to take over at San's threats. But I was a virgin! It's not that I was a prude or I thought I was better than anyone else, no man has held my interest enough and most of them were after my body more than me as a person.

I bit my bottom lip hard when San's mouth started gently kissing my chest and then his mouth closed around my nipple while he played with other. 

"Wait," I whimpered when he started to gently suck, his tongue flicking out to lick them and then twirled it around his tongue. It was something new for me and I couldn't help but shake.

"Relax, doll," he murmured in between his sucks.

Tingles filled my whole body, and I felt something tickling down there. Pleasure radiated all over and body in ways I couldn't understand and I started to moan uncontrollably.

I looked down and saw San already looking up at me while he continued licking the sensitive bud. It was such an erotic sight and before I knew it, a wave of pleasure sent my body into shock and I began spasming against San's chest.

San held me in his arms and let go of my nipple with a small 'pop'.  I buried my face onto his chest in shame - I had just orgasmed with my nipples, alone.

San gently laid me back and we stared at each other wide-eyed, both of us clearly shocked at what just happened. Surprisingly, San doesn't comment on it. He leans in and gives me a kiss on my forehead.

"Good girl," he murmured. He put my arms around his neck and he buried his head on my neck and rocked my back and forth. "That's my good girl, just relax, okay? I got you..."

The way he was looking at me with such tender eyes and there was an expression in it that I couldn't exactly pinpoint. His soothing voice filled my ears and I let myself get lost in San for a moment.

"My pretty girl, oh, my Y/N..."

"Everything about you is so beautiful to me."

"I adore you so much, you know?"

"You are so perfect, and you are mine."

That hit me like a ton of bricks. I broke away from a confused San and my tears started to fall from my face. This was so wrong, what was I doing? But he felt so good with me...

"Baby doll, please don't cry," he pleaded.

"I can't do this," I started to try and get up. "Please get away from me..."

He releases a sigh and holds me in place. "Listen to me," his voice held an edge to it. I turned my head rebelliously and gasped when he held my jaw tightly and forced me to look at him. "Listen," he growled, eyes glazed in unparalleled anger.

I was having a small panic attack. "I just need a moment---"

San slapped my already aching jaw with a force enough for me to get out of it, but not enough for me to bawl in pain. "Listen to me," he snapped. "Silence. Not a sound from you."

I nodded my head quickly, afraid. "If you resist, I will punish you," he threatened. "And you know how I'm going to do it?"

I held in a whimper, truly afraid since San had this crazed manic expression on his face that I've never, ever seen him have. "Well," he smirked. "Let's hope you don't find out."

He gets up and quickly drags me using my arms to straddle him. "Wrap your hands around me," he demanded.

I did as asked and he grabbed my hips to immobilize me. San looked up at me with such intensity and I can't help but look away. I felt exposed and humiliated and I couldn't help but let out a small moan when I felt his hardness twitch underneath me.

"What was that?" he mocked. "What did I tell you about making a sound, you whore?"

I breathed hard and heavy, my exposed breasts moving about, but I didn't answer him back, scared that my response would trigger him.

"Answer me," he demanded.

"P-Punish," I stuttered pathetically.

"Correct," San grinned and it resembled a rabid animal who was ready to pounce on its unsuspecting victim. "Little sluts like you need to be dominated."

I was wide-eyed when he grabbed my hair and manually moved my head up and down. "That's right," he laughed sadistically. "Good girl."

San leaned in and put his lips against mine in a rough kiss. When I refused, he pulled the back of my hair again until I gasped in pain. His tongue plunged inside my mouth and I tried to turn but he painfully pulled my hair again as he moved away slightly.

"Stop it," he whispered against my lips. "I'm not going to hurt you."

He pushed my head and he kissed me again, this time, more gentle and more considerate. I tried to see what he was going to do if I moved, and true to my suspicions, I felt his hand tightening against my hair again.

Having no choice, I gave in to what he wanted. San groaned in my mouth and pressed his harder, playing with my tongue sensually as he massaged my tits. My skin began to feel warm and my heart began to beat faster and faster and I was pretty sure he felt it. Or was that his own heart beating with mine?

When San touched my cheek with frenzied motions, I hissed and I couldn't help but moan in protest. He pulled back and tenderly touched my face where a bruise was forming.

"What happened?" he asked softly. "Was it..?"

I quickly shook my head. "No, I-I mean, well, I barely felt the slap and you didn't even do it hard."

It was true. I don't mean to defend his actions, he's an asshole for that but even in a haze, I felt him repressing and it was only meant to break my panic attack.

"I'm sorry, doll, please tell me what happened," San murmured apologetically, his words somewhat loving.

I hesitated but the look in his eyes was so soft that I just had to. It was the gentle San that everyone knew him for when everyone would ask for his advice and wisdom. I bit my lip, remembering that there was a time where I almost went to him.

"Earlier in the car," I began muttering. "I didn't meet up with friends, I-I, uhm..."

"Go on," San assured me, tenderly rubbing my arms.

"I didn't meet up with my friends like I said I did," I revealed. "My ex called to try and get back with me. He got handsy when I-I said no."

His hands tighten on my arms and his eyes transform into a murderous glare. He pulls me into a hug and pulls away. "I'm going to fucking kill him," he cursed under his breath intensely.

"And you," he continued, putting my face in his hands. "You will never, ever interact with him ever again. You're going to tell me if he bothers you again, okay?"

I nodded apprehensively, unsure of what to say. "Good," San kissed my forehead. I bit back a cry of surprise when he laid me down on the bed and started to crawl his way down.

"W-Wait, what are you doing?" I panicked when he lifted the other half of my nightgown and lifted my legs to rest on his shoulders.

"I'm going to make you forget about that scum," he declared like he was telling me the weather. "Until you only know me."

I was still confused as he hadn't taken his boxers off, that is, until I finally got a good look at him. He was handsome, the type that can bring you to your knees. His dark hair was disheveled and when my eyes traveled down to his chest, I wasn't surprised to see that he was fit and the muscles on his abdominal area were very prominent.

The arms he used to leave my legs up were massive and I can tell he spent a lot on the gym working them out. However, it was nothing compared to the tent he had on his boxers. I'm not one to usually comment on it, but I can tell he was big. It's super cliche and honestly, it made me cringe to even think about, but I've only heard of that size in the novels I read. 

"You look so beautiful," he suddenly said. His stare was so intense and serious that I couldn't help but blush. "I mean it, Y/N. You're beautiful. I'm going to make you believe it."

Before I could say anything, I felt his fingers touch my slit. I bit my lip to stop the moan that threatened to pass my lips, but when San pressed on my clit, I had to let out a muffled mewl.

"Don't hold back on me now," he smirked, rubbing my nub gently at first. "I told you, you will forget everything but me."

My eyes widened when he licked his fingers and went back down there. The roughness of fingers added a new sensation I never thought I'd feel and it was bringing me such shame that I was even feeling this way.

"San, please," I mewled again when he added more pressure in his ministrations.

Suddenly, his fingers were gone and it was quickly replaced by his mouth. "San!" I screamed in surprise.

I felt him laugh and the vibration of it caused me to arch my back and accidentally rub myself in his mouth. San took advantage of this and dove his tongue between my folds, lapping at anything he could get his tongue on. 

"Just like that, doll, " he spoke in between his licking and sucking. 

I moaned loudly, my hands grabbing on the blankets in pleasure. He kissed my clit and gently suctioned on it, releasing it and doing it again and that tingling sensation from down there came back, but this one felt different; stronger.

"San, stop, it feels weird," I moaned and sighed, closing my eyes  involuntarily and shaking a bit against San's mouth.

"Quiet," he murmured, ignoring my plea and continuing on.

I choked on my breath when I felt his finger slip inside my pussy while he still licked. It hurt a bit, but nothing crazy. He pushed deeper and farther, until he stopped unexpectedly and quickly got up to look at my face with the most shocked expression I've ever seen him have.

"You're a virgin," he reeled in disbelief. "You're a virgin?"

I looked at him wide-eyed, embarrassed. My breath was quicker and it made me breathless. "I am," I admitted.

"B-But how? You're so beautiful," he stammered, clearly still in shock.

"I-I've been waiting for the right person."

He closed my legs, leaned his forehead on my knees, and a deep groan that was similar to a suffering soldier sounded at the back of his throat. He laid there for a moment until he got up from the bed and paced around my room.

I was left laying down on the bed as I watched him go through something akin to a midlife crisis. My virginity was the reason why my ex left me and why nobody stayed with me. I wanted someone true, someone I was sure I wanted to be with and vice versa.

San briskly walked around, stopping to face palm himself, then stayed in his spot to raise his head in frustration. He collected himself before he marched towards me with a stormy expression.

He leaned down and gave me a chaste kiss on my forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulled away and walked off to where his clothes were and started putting them on.

His gaze was steely when he looked at me. "I'm leaving," he said, voice tight.

I sat up slowly as I watched him put his sweater last and then his jewelry, a little surprised at the turn of events. "You are?" I couldn't help but ask, slightly confused. 

San nodded. "I am."

I wasn't complaining at all. This was a blessing in disguise. "I don't get it," I said as I covered my exposed chest with a blanket. "Why now?"

San exhaled a sharp breath, barely controlling himself. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment and he opened them again, he looked so tortured.

"Y/N, I cannot touch you," he whispered. "I want you so fucking bad. I don't just want you. I need you."

I couldn't breath, my chest was so tight. He exhaled a sharp breath again. "I won't be able to stop myself right now if I don't leave. I want to fuck you so bad, stick my dick in you and fuck you so hard you'll forget your own name."

"But not like this," he shook his head. "I don't want your first to be like this. I don't want to hurt you."

I was so stunned at his admission. "So we're...done here?" I asked softly, unsure of what was even happening.

"Yes. We are."

"What now, then? What's going to happen after this?"

San paused. "I don't know. I'll live my life, and you'll go back to ignoring me."

"Alright," I whispered. I was trembling as I tried to mend the straps of my nightgown enough for me to wear it temporarily so I wasn't too exposed in front of San. Not that it mattered, he's seen everything.

I stood up from my bed and San headed through the door to leave when he suddenly paused. He turned around and faced me hesitantly. "Have a good night," he said.

I nodded and turned to look at the damaged window where he came through earlier to break in my room. "How am I supposed to fix this?" I lamented.

He turned and marched towards the window and inspected it closely. I stared at the way he furrowed and unfurrowed his brows in concentration.

He stared me down and back at the window and he definitely got snappy. "I'll pay somebody to fix it tomorrow," he announced tensely.

"Why are you mad?" I asked.

He raised a brow. "I'm not," he denied.

I frowned but I let it go. "There's going to be a storm tomorrow," I sighed. "Nobody in their right mind will come down tomorrow."

"Can you call your parents right now?" San asked gruffly.

I shook my head. "They live abroad."

His brows raise in surprise and curiosity but he doesn't dwell on it. "Friends?"

"I didn't lie when I said they lived in the next city."

He ran his fingers on his hair with annoyance, his tongue poking his cheek with a scowl. "Doll, you can't stay here."

I smiled without humour in irony. I wanted to tell him that technically, this problem I'm having right now is his fault but I don't. I'm too tired to argue.

I heard him sigh. "Get dressed," he said. "I have tools in my apartment that we can both grab so I can do it today, myself."

"Okay," I murmured.

San nodded. "I'll wait outside."

When I was done, I saw San leaning towards my doorway and I had to suppress staring at him. He looked good, but he looked aggravated when he saw me, and he reached down for my hand and he began walking us through the complex.

I breathlessly tried to keep up with him. This is going to be the first time I'm seeing where San's apartment is. His hand felt warm in mine and without pausing, he walked both of us to the furthest part of the complex.

"No wonder we barely saw each other," I couldn't help but state. "You live on the other side."

He didn't reply. He took one glance at me and continued walking. I followed him obediently without question.

I had an idea where he was leading me. The complex was split into three parts - the regular kind, the modernized kind, and the luxurious kind. I lived on the second one, and true to my suspicions, San lived on the third kind.

"You live here?" I asked in awe.

I was so fascinated with this area and the fact that San was known to everybody. People here barely interact with anybody, that would mean that San would go out of his way to go join and seek out the people in the regular part.

I was so taken aback by my own thoughts that I didn't realize that we were by his door.

"Yes, almost two years now," he replied flatly. "After you."

Unsurprisingly, the interior looked grand and deluxe, albeit a little empty. It made sense, San seemed like a minimalist person and it showed both in how he dressed and designed his home.

He tilted his head towards a door at the end of the hallway. "Tools should be over there," he said, not looking me in the eye. "Let's go."

It was obvious that this was his bedroom when we both went in. The room was large, there was a king sized bed in the middle of it and a couple of pictures hung all over the area. I went and inspected them closely and saw that he was with a couple of people.

"Family?" I asked.

He hummed in response while he took his suit off and hung them somewhere. "Sort of. They're lifelong friends."

He stepped towards the bedroom door, closed it slowly, and turned the lock before he faced me. I was confused, when he looked at me, his eyes were the darkest I have ever seen.

"Get on the bed," he commanded. "I'm going to fuck you."

I didn't fully understand what he said. I thought I heard him wrong, but he was dead serious. "W-What?"

His eyes never left me as he stalked towards me like a predator. "I said," his tone was grim. "Get on the bed."

My eyes widened and the wind was knocked out of my chest. "B-But you said you weren't going to touch me," I whimpered.

"I know what I said," he snapped, his jaw clenching hard. "I'm taking it back."

San stepped forward and stopped a couple of feet away from me. I stared at him wary and not knowing what to do. I'm sure my eyes held terror. "Don't do this," I pleaded.

I yelped when San pushed me on the bed. He stood by it and watched me scramble to get up. I was truly frightened at the person in front of me. He leaned over and placed his hands on the bed while he stared at me.

"You don't get it do you?" San grimaced. "There are no tools. At least, not in my bedroom."

My eyes widened in realization. His eyes narrowed in veiled anger as he continued. "Why would you come here with me? I broke into your apartment and almost took you against your will! Do I look like the safest person to be with right now?"

My chest fell and ragged breaths escaped me, but he wasn't done yet. "Don't you think with your brain?" San hissed. "You are at my mercy right now. If I want to take you, no one would know."

"Are you going to...?" I whispered.

His scowl deepened. "Yes."

It all happened too fast and I had no time to dispute him. My shirt and pants were off in less than a minute and he slammed me against the bed.

"San, wait---"

I gasped when he slid a finger inside me quickly and I was unable to stop the small whimper of pleasure I felt. That felt a little too good. I didn't even notice that his clothes were gone too, and I couldn't help but look down.

My suspicions were unfortunately right - he was not small. And he was hard. I may be a virgin, but of course I knew what dicks looked like. It was very imposing, it made my heart beat with hesitation and a little fear. 

I tensed when he got on top of me and I felt him kiss my forehead softly. "I'm sorry," I heard him whisper.

I subconsciously pressed my fingers on his shoulder, trying hard not to look up at him or even inhale. The scent of him, alone, was driving me mad. I felt him hot and hard, pressing against my hole, and he thrust in bit by bit.

"Oh God, San, I can't," I cried out. The pain was so intense that it brought hot tears to my eyes. I heard him groan when I clawed his back.

"I'm sorry, I'll be careful," San cooed as he gave me tiny, little kisses here and there.

A strangled cry was torn from me when I felt him move again. His pleasure filled moans hit my ears, the vibrations from his chest sending tingles to my spine. "San..."

"Just a bit more, baby," he whispered. "You can take it, I know you can..."

He made small, gentle thrusts and I couldn't help but applaud the patience he had for this. I can feel how he was dying to just thrust in one go. I groaned again, fully wrapping my arms around his neck, in pain. I knew it was painful for the first time, but this pain was a bit too much.

"Fuck," he hissed, looking down at me with lust in his eyes. "I'm sorry, are you alright?"

I nodded and he took it as his signal to push in a little more. When he  completely bottomed out, I couldn't help but moan loudly. The pain  felt like the good kind.

"Oh fuck," he groaned. "Your cunt was made for me."

He pressed a hot kiss on my shoulder. The dirty talk was making me dizzy and I felt warm tingles spread all over my skin. San stayed inside me, unmoving, for a while and we decided I've warmed up enough, he began thrusting.

"San, it hurts," I yelped in slight pain. If I was being honest, it felt unbelievably good.

"Just take it for now, baby, it's going to feel better soon, I promise," he pecked my lips before he buried head on my shoulders.

And he was right. I swallowed a moan when San began to pick up the pace a bit. I didn't realize that I was moving my hips to his pace until I heard San whisper the dirtiest things in my ear.

"Y/N, fuck, Y/N, Y/N," San moaned my name like a prayer with each vicious thrust of his hips. "Doll, please tell me I can go faster than this, please."

I moaned in response, not being able to formulate a single word. San goes from fully gentle to straight up rearranging my insides. "San, San, t-too fast!"

Each thrust of his cock sent shockwaves through my body and it didn't take too long for my laboured breathing to turn into wanton moans with the way he went in and out with his quick rhythm. I felt him twitching, pulsating, inside of me and I squeezed.

"Don't do that, baby," San groaned. "God, you feel so fucking good…”

He pushed onto me and took my mouth in a stormy, demanding kiss. I felt his hand reaching from my hip to my front and his fingers pressed up to my clit.

"You like this, doll?" San asked tentatively.

I nodded my head and kissed his neck. "I do, don't stop."

His fingers stroke me, his thrusts not slowing down. Tears from the slight pain and pleasure combined fell from my eyes and his speed built back up, slamming into me so hard, I screamed loudly over and over again.

"Just like, Y/N, come, yes, come for me," San bit my shoulder and it was over.

It was my first orgasm from fucking and my body spasmed against him so hard, San had to hold me down. 

"Fuck, oh fuck, you feel so fucking good," San's muffled moans felt intense against my skin. "You're mine, okay?"

"S-San, oh, San---"

I screamed when he grabbed my hair and bit my ear. "Say it," he growled. "Say you're fucking mine."

"San---"

"Say it, goddamn it, fucking say it!"

His thrusts got more brutal, ferocious, more ruthless. "Okay, okay!" I moaned. "I'm all yours!"

"Fuck," he got out and thrusted back in roughly. I saw stars then and there. "You're mine, you're mine, fuck.”

His thrust went even faster than before, the bed was squeaking very loud, and the slapping of skin against skin more obscene than before. It was agonizing as I was still sensitive and I felt another wave of pleasure come, but this time, there was no pain.

"S-San, f-fuck, I-I can't---"

"I want my cum in you," he abruptly cut off, slamming into me so hard I was afraid I would bruise just from his thrusts alone. "God, I want my fucking cum in you."

"Please," I cried. "I-I can't do this anymore---"

He shushed me gently, slowing his thrusts down, but it was worse because he was doing long, deep thrusts instead. "One more, baby," he murmured. "Give me one more and I'll stop."

He kissed me hard. "I'm going to fucking pump you full of cum, doll, I'm going to breed the fuck out of you, fuck, this body deserves to be filled up..."

His words did something to me and I just came without warning. I screamed, my body shaking, shuddering beneath him. I felt warm liquid gush inside me and San's deep groans hit my ears and it felt more intense than the last. 

"Good girl," San gave me a hot kiss on my neck and I shuddered.

I moaned when he pulled out, though it stung a bit. I felt his fingers dip back in there and when he put it up, we both groaned at the sight of his cum glistening and stringy against the light.

"Open up," he murmured. I hesitated but did as told anyway. 

He put his cum-stained fingers inside my mouth and I grimaced at the salty, bitter taste. "I don't like it," I complained. 

San laughed out loud and crashed on top of me, exhausted. I almost fell asleep when I felt him get up and leave the room. It hit me of what I have just done, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

I groaned in protest when I felt something cold and wet down there and I opened my eyes to see it was San concentrating on cleaning me up like he was getting paid to do it with a damp towel gently and slowly. 

"Thanks," I murmured. "I...should get going."

He stares at me, all traces of roughness, maliciousness, and sociopathy gone on his face. He looked like the San I'd come to admire from afar before all of this happened. 

He titled his head. "Why?"

I frowned. "Isn't this customary? I'm not sure if you want me to stay. People will see, it's already morning."

"Let them see," he shrugged. "Of course I want you to stay. Plus, it's not like it's much of a secret, anyway."

That piqued my curiosity and all traces of sleep went away. "What do you mean?"

He finished cleaning me up, discarded the towel in the nearest bin, and tucked my legs back in the softest, most comfortable blanket I've ever laid down on. It probably cost more than my whole bed set.

I blushed when he smiled at me. It wasn't a fake or imposing one - it was genuine. "I'll be right back, okay? Then we'll talk."

True to his words, he went back, but this time, he had a glass full of water and two shirts. He guided me up to sit down and brought the glass to my mouth, the only thing I had to do was make an effort to swallow. I had to suppress a satisfied moan when the water hit the back of my throat. All the screaming before and after sex...

"Arms up," he coaxed. I was confused but did so anyway. He put what I assume was his shirt on me, and then put the other shirt on his own body.

I let him do what he wanted, the resistance felt so tiring to me. This was the man that violated me in every way possible, yet why do I feel this pull towards him?

I already knew the answer - there was always something there. Now that he had taken my virginity, the pull has increased tenfold, and the way he was so sweet to me was a mystery on its own.

"So, how many?" I asked when he laid down next to me and put my head against his chest.

"How many what?" San asked.

"You know," I gestured between the two of us. "How many girls have you done this to?"

I was referring to the break in. He frowned and shook his head. "I am deeply offended, but I understand so I can't be mad. The answer is zero."

"You expect me to believe that?" I deadpanned. "You were an expert in being a criminal."

"It's not that," he sighed. "I can't count the times I stayed awake in this very bed and pretended you were mine. That was enough practice on its own."

He kissed the top of my head. "And I told you," he continued. "It's not a secret."

"What do you mean, San?"

"I wasn't subtle about it, everyone literally knew I liked you," he chuckled. "No offense doll, but you're dense as fuck."

"Funny," I muttered, unimpressed.

San laughed. "No, seriously. I did everything to try and get your attention, I sent flowers to your doorstep every Friday, for God's sake."

My eyes widen and I look up at him. "That...was you?"

"Who did you think it was?"

I paused, hesitant, remembering his words earlier. "M-My ex..."

It was the reason why I even met up with him in the first place. I thought he was trying to win me back using his cheap ways. San stared at me, and I could see the anger slowly rising in his eyes, but alas, in the end he ignored it, thankfully.

"Hmm," he hummed. "If he tries something, tell me. I'm not just saying this just because of what happened between us, but as a human being concerned for another's well-being. What he did was wrong."

I nodded. That seemed fair for now. I tried to suppress the blush that was threatening to flare my cheeks up. His words make it difficult for me to hate him, for now.

"Having said that," he cleared his throat. "I tried to chauffeur you too, at the bus station."

"And I meant it when I said I didn't want to impose," I mumbled.

"The point is, anyone with two eyes can see it, doll. I always seeked you out of everyone," he sighed.

He cupped my face in his hands and looked straight into my eye. "I know you have feelings for me, and it's driving me crazy that you haven't realized it yet. I'm sorry it had to be this way."

"But what you did was wrong," I frowned, putting my small hands on his to push him away so he wouldn't see how distraught I was because he was telling the truth. "Just because I'm not putting up a fight, doesn't mean I'm happy. Why did you do it?"

San looked so crestfallen and I hesitated for a bit. "I...don't know," he admitted. "I'm so, so sorry, doll. Please don't push me away."

"You don't even know anything about me besides the basics" I sighed.

Held my hand tenderly. "Then let's try now," he smiled tightly, hopefully. "You said your parents were abroad, where?"

I stared at him, giving in eventually. "Yes. In London," I replied tentatively. It was a lie, but he won't know.

"Ah. Migrants?"

"No, I laughed a bit. "I was actually born there."

"So you have that accent?" San teased.

"Maybe, you tell me," I said with the said accent.

I reveled in his surprised face. "So why are you here, then?" San asked, genuinely interested.

"We went here for a vacation but I fell in love being here and yeah, I stayed," I chuckled. "It's probably why I caught your eye, because I moved differently."

San shook his head at me. "No," he said. "You would've caught my eye, regardless, United Kingdom or not."

He hesitated, pausing. "I know you're lying."

It was my turn to be surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Why you're here," he said. I was about to say something when he cut me off. "It's okay, you can tell me when you're ready."

I smiled at him. "Maybe one day."

"I'm just a little concerned about the age gap for now," he confessed. "And I know you are too."

"It's not that," I clarified. "Someone your age would prefer looking for someone your age, not someone ten years younger."

"Does it bother you?" San raised a brow.

"No, not in the slightest," I replied truthfully.

For the first time after we were done, San gave me a genuine smile. It was the type that reached his eyes; the type that reached a part of my heart I've been denying.

The next day, I woke up alone in San's bed on what seemed to be in the middle of the afternoon.

I couldn't suppress a hiss when I sat up. Besides my pussy, my entire body felt sore. I'm not surprised, we literally went straight into it. It made me realize that I was so out of shape and I needed to catch up.

When I felt the side of the bed, it was still relatively warm. San must've gotten up half an hour before me.

Which wasn't a bad thing. Now that I'm alone in my thoughts, I can focus on thinking about what to do from here not just for me and San, but for myself without him. I couldn't deny that the sex was mind blowing, but I had basically forfeited any real chance I had to erase myself from San's life and vice versa.

Giving in was a no-brainer. No matter how hard I tried, I knew all my efforts would have been proven futile in the grand scheme of things. I screwed myself up, however. And now, I want more.

After some more thinking, I decided to get up and talk to San. I put back on my underwear but I didn't bother wearing some pants, and San's shirt was large anyway. I just have to be careful not to bend over.

I was instantly hit with the smell of food when I got close to the kitchen, after much exploring, and my stomach began to rumble uncontrollably.

San was sitting by the kitchen island drinking a cup of coffee. He typed away on his laptop with furrowed brows. I watched the man I spent the night with - he wore a black shirt paired with black jeans yet he still managed to look good.

My heart palpitated when I realized he was wearing a pair of glasses. I've never seen him wear glasses before. He looked sophisticated, more chic, more attractive.

"Working?" I said out loud when he still didn't notice me.

San finally lifted his head up to look at me and his eyes slightly widen. I suddenly felt self-conscious when he started slowly taking in body slowly from head to toe until his eyes reached my face. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he gulped.

"Morning, well, afternoon," he snapped out of his trance. "Come sit. I ordered some food for us."

"This is a lot," I murmured when I sat down and tried to pick what I was going to eat. "Why did you order this much?"

"I didn't know what you wanted," he shrugged. "And I didn't want to wake you up to ask, better safe than sorry. Coffee?"

I nodded awkwardly. It was harder to be normal around him than I thought. San seemingly wasn't affected at all - he was still the confident, undaunting, self-assured, and bold man I knew who I was always careful with even before all of this. 

He sat back down on his chair. "Did you sleep well last night?"

"Yes."

"That's good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

I cringed at how awkward I was acting. Not that I wasn't before, but I was more so now that we've far more things that normal acquaintances do. San smirked widely at my predicament, clearly enjoying the effect he has on me.

"I'm leaving in an hour," he said. "Something came up at work, but I'll be back before sunset."

He looked at me to gauge my reaction. "I would like it if you were still here when I come back, I'll take you out to dinner. If not, I understand." 

I had to stop the urge to smirk, myself. Wasn't dinner supposed to come first before the sex? This is going nowhere, I thought. It's either I talk to him now or I won't do it all. It was now or never.

"Uh, San," I cleared my throat. He looked at me expectantly and I almost backed out. "Can I talk to you?"

All the humour and mirth disappeared from his face and he became so rigid and tense right before my very eyes as if knew what I was going to say. In hindsight, we both knew he did.

"Okay," he mumbled.

I took a deep breath and laid it all out on him. "You don't need me to tell you again that taking me against my will whether or not we had sex was wrong."

San listened attentively. "You hurt my feelings," I croaked, my appetite suddenly going down. "You violated me, you couldn't approach me like a normal person? You could have knocked on my door."

Tears started to fall from my eyes but San looked twice as hurt as I did, if that was even possible. "Doll, please," he pleaded, reaching out to hold my hand but I didn't let him. He looked even more hurt. "I'm sorry, please don't say you're going to leave--"

"San, 'sorry' isn't going to cut it," I interjected rather harshly. "They way you went about this was so, so wrong. What were you even thinking?"

He didn't say anything for a while. "I don't know."

I saw red. "You don't know?" I scoffed. "What do you know?! Which one is the real San?"

"I know that my feelings for you are very, very strong," he answered without any hint of deception in his eyes. "You know who I am, Y/N."

"I wouldn't say that, you genuinely scared me last night."

He sighed before burying his face in his hands and groaning softly in frustration. "I know," he whispered. "I'm sorry, my doll, I'm so, so sorry. I truly am. I don't want to lose you, not like this."

When he looked up at me again, I held back a gasp of surprise when I saw his eyes glistening with tears. "I was wrong, I know I'm a piece of shit," he sniffled. "I'm sorry for scaring you, you were right, I was sick in the head. I don't know why I did what I did, and I have absolutely no excuses for it."

I felt limp and San took that opportunity to hold my hand in his and repeatedly kissed it and my heart ached. I felt lighter though, I know the apology was shit compared to what I went through, but the acknowledgement was much appreciated on my side.

"I'll make it up to you, okay?" San guaranteed. "You said you were waiting for the right person?"

He gave my hand another hot kiss. "I'm going to prove I'm the right person for you, Y/N, I promise you," he assured with desperation. "Even if it takes a lifetime, please baby, just one chance..."

Call me a bitch, but I intended to make him stew a little bit. 

"One chance, San, just one," I whispered. "If you screw up, I'm going back to London."

I won't go back to London though, that was the last place I'd go, but it was just a just-in-case type of a thing if he does screw up.

San buried his face in my hand in an attempt to cover the silent cry he was pouring out of his system. "Thank you," he whispered. "Can I hug you?"

I shook my head firmly. "No," I denied. "You don't deserve anything."

San pouted, and damn it, it was cute. "Okay."

He wasn't the only one screwed anyway - I may honestly be more screwed than him. I've liked him for so long but I was always afraid that he wouldn't look at me. When he found out I was a virgin and he stopped, I fell for him a bit more. If only he didn't fuck me afterwards.

The fault wasn't his own though. I didn't push him away. For now, it was better this way so I can gauge his sincerity, especially about why I wasn't in London in the first place.

A couple of months passed since that fateful night, and true to his words, San did everything and anything possible to get into my good side.

We were the talk of the whole complex. San wasn't exactly the most private person when he was trying to show his affection. It was uncomfortable since the whole complex seemed to cheer when they found out San was trying to woo me, but I slowly got used to it.

Sometimes I would even look forward to it. I do feel a little bad sometimes because maybe I was power-tripping a little bit but the tiniest complaint from me and San would get into action.

"How was your meeting?" I asked when he entered my apartment.

He sat down on the couch with a heavy sigh. "Terrible," he groaned. "Bastards are trying to haggle from us with at least 30% of the original price. It's ridiculous."

I never denied him of time either. I knew I liked him so it wasn't difficult at all for me, so we would hang out at each other's places, though more him in mine than vice versa. 

We were in an odd spot, we were technically together but not at the same time because we never got intimate or held hands or kissed. Not ever since that night.

"So what did you do?" I asked out of curiosity.

"Oh. I said yes."

I raised a brow in surprise. "You did? That's a huge percentage, San. "

"Don't worry," he brushed off with a smirk. "You know me, doll, I always have to get something in return. Wait here."

He went outside again and he was gone for approximately half an hour before he came back again, this time, he was carrying a box.

"What's that?" I asked out of curiosity when he set it down at the dining table.

"It's for you, my doll," he smiled. "Open it."

I hesitated, staring at him apprehensively, to which he laughed. "Seriously," San insisted. "You'll like it, I promise, there's no bugs in there or something."

I picked it up and turned it slightly. It was a lot heavier than I thought. I raised my eye to San, and he had this look that was a mixture of pride and fear of rejection. Carefully, I lifted the covers of the box and was surprised at what I saw.

"Yubari King!" I exclaimed in genuine surprise. I looked up at San and he beamed ear to ear at my expression. "San? How?"

"That 30% I was talking about earlier, I exchanged it for these babies," he carefully tapped the expensive melon. "Our client had Japanese connections, you'll get more of these soon."

When San asked if he could get me something, I mentioned these in passing because I know they were extremely difficult to find in Korea and are on the expensive side as well.

"Y-You didn't have to," I said, feeling extra guilty.

"I told you," he smiled, grabbing my hand to kiss me. "I meant it when I said I'll do anything for you."

"Thank you, San, I really appreciate it," I murmured, giving him a small hug. "You're going overboard, I'm telling you."

"I'm really not," he teased. "How about you slice that for us? I kinda wanna try it."

And that I did. The moment I bit into it, I couldn't help but moan out in satisfaction. It was so crunchy, the middle of it the sweetest I have ever tried, and it really put it into perspective why these were very expensive.

"Holy fuck," San exclaimed. "I can't believe this actually tastes good."

"What were you expecting anyway?" I teased.

"I was hoping they'd taste like shit so I couldn't justify the price," he rolled his eyes playfully.

"So thanks to you, we're eating good shit," I chuckled.

"Yeah?" San smiled. "Would it be possible to get a kiss, at least?"

I froze, my arms and legs becoming a bit rigid. San notices and visibly panics. "No, I'm sorry--"

"We agreed that I was going to do this on my own time?" I was frowning, trying very hard to keep my voice leveled, but I was shaking a bit. I put the last slice of the melon and chewed on it rather roughly.

"You're right, baby---"

"Don't call me that," I hissed.

San deflated, looking visibly upset. I felt so bad, but I can't help the way I felt. "Sorry," he whispered.

This wouldn't be the first time I had snapped at him. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I wasn't ready for any sort of intimacy with him even though I did want to give him a chance. Maybe it was the small trauma he inflicted.

Deep down, I knew it was because I was scared that once I let him in, he would stop because maybe he only wanted me for the thrill I gave him and my body.

"I'm going to take a nap," I sighed as I got up from the couch and tried to head to my room.

"Ba--Y/N, please, please, I didn't mean to make you mad," San pleaded. "What can I do to make you feel better?"

"San, I don't know, go pick some four-leaf clovers, or something," I spat, finally closing the door behind me.

When I laid down on my bed, I felt a bit lonely and cold. Today, San was supposed to sleep here. Yeah, for people not dating, we would sleep in the same bed. It was my sick way of dealing with my bad memories of him; so I can replace them with good ones.

At the far corner of my room, my eyes landed on the bouquet of the most beautiful jasmines I have been taking care of for weeks now. My eyes teared up, San gave them to me and I was floored. They were very rare where we lived.

I hit an all time low depressive state today. It had been two weeks since San and I started trying for each other and a week since I last saw even his shadow.

Oh, I was pissed alright. 

I sighed, I suppose I was right in not giving him a full chance because where was he? He literally disappeared, it was infuriating. It was one thing if he talked to me before and after, but no, absolutely nothing.

But behind all that anger, was sadness. I thought we were going to have something real despite the horrible start we had.

I sighed deeply and was about to go to my room and try to sleep everything out, but my doorbell suddenly rang. I was confused, I wasn't expecting anyone.

My eyes widened. Unless it was my parents. I got nervous, I wasn't ready to face them yet after running away.

I took a deep breath and opened the door, only to be face to face with someone I thought I'd never see again.

"San?"

He thrusted a bouquet of flowers in my hand. "Hi," he whispered.

"What the hell, Choi San?" I gritted my teeth. "You disappeared for a week without telling me where you were! I thought you left for good!"

"I'm sorry, doll, I really am," he frowned. "I didn't have service in Virginia."

"Virginia?" I raised my brow in genuine surprise. "What on God's green Earth were do you doing there?" 

He smiled widely, looking proud of himself. "I bought you your favourite flowers."

"What are you talking about? Those are---oh my God," I gasped audibly when I took a good look at the bouquet.

They were blue jasmines, a very uncommon species of flowers mostly found in the United States. My eyes started to tear up. "San," my lips quivered.

"I'm sorry I took so long, but you deserve the best," he assured, his smile growing bigger. "I told you I'd do anything for you."

I woke up all of a sudden, the pitter-patter of the rain hitting my windowsill loudly interrupting my nap. Suddenly, my mind went to San immediately.

I went out of my room to check if he was still here. I felt horrible for snapping at him and I intended to apologize. I was confused when I didn't see him because his jacket and phone were both still here.

"San?" I called out of nowhere while I tried to look at every nook and cranny in my room, but he was nowhere to be found.

I decided to go in my small backyard, knowing San wouldn't be there anyway, but my feet took me to my destination in my half asleep state.

I was about to leave after looking around, but my head quickly whipped back around to do a double-take. My jaw dropped instantly, I was wrong, San was here.

"Oh God," I whispered, horrified.

There he was, the big and strong man kneeling down the soaked grass searching for something in a way so concentrated, you would think he was looking for gold underneath the soil.

He was looking for a four-leaf clover. What have I done?  

Without thinking, I quickly ran towards him in the pouring rain, not caring if I wasn't wearing any slippers or carrying an umbrella, I just wanted to get him out of there.

"San, you idiot!" I screamed in frustration, quickly kneeling beside him to try and get him up. "Stop it!"

He was startled at first. "Doll, you're going to get sick," he frowned. "Go inside, I'm sorry I can't find any---"

"Forget it, I didn't mean it like that, please," I begged in exasperation. "I don't want you to get sick!"

We both stood in the middle of the grassy yard, not caring if the rain hit us. "You care about me?" San asked quietly.

"Of course I care about you!" I exclaimed, stomping my feet on the ground as if it would help me explain my thoughts. "I care about you a lot, you dummy."

He revealed a dimpled smile - a smile that was only reserved for me. "I'm glad," he spoke, grabbing me by the arm, then the head, and then leaned in to give me a kiss.

I kissed him back with equal desperation. It was everything I needed right now and the sparks that traveled through our bodies were intensifying the unspoken feelings between the two of us. Yeah, intense would be the word I'd use.

Before we both knew it, our clothes were gone and we were a mess trying to have each other on my bed, not caring if we were both wet from the rain. It might sound ridiculous, but there was no other way to describe what we were doing but making love.

"This is something you want, right?" San asked. "You'll have me, and you're going to want me to have you."

"More than anything in the world," I replied. 

"Y/N, I mean it," he kissed my lips. "I want all of you, not just your body."

"Show me," I whispered.

All our pretense and doubt went out and the world melted away into nothing. Everything was raw and intense, every breath fast and both our hearts were finally becoming into one. This was only our second time being this intimate, and maybe I was delusional, but this one felt better than the first. Maybe because I had feelings for San this time. Everything happened as quickly as it started.

"I won't let you down," San murmured, hugging me and giving me a tender kiss on my forehead once everything was said and done. "My feelings for you are deep."

"As mine are," I tilted my head to meet his lips. "Just don't break through my window again."

San laughed loudly. "I won't," he turned to the window he fixed up quite well. "On one condition."

"The audacity," I playfully rolled my eyes. "What is it?"

"Be my girlfriend?"

I frowned. "I thought that was a given?"

"Oh," he shrugged. "I wanted to ask anyway. Is that a yes?"

I nodded and was about to say something witty to him, when my phone rang loudly in the background. Without thinking nor looking at the screen, I answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Oh, Y/N, it's about time you answered," my dad's irritated voice sounded from the phone.

I yelped in surprise and stared at a curious San. "Ah, D-Dad, can I c-call you back in a minute or two?" 

I hung up before my dad could even say no. I hit my forehead frustratedly with my fist while mentally how dumb I was.

"Doll? Is everything okay?" San asked, worried. "Why'd you hang up? This wouldn't be the first time either."

I peered at him cautiously. "You noticed, huh?"

"Is it related to why you don't want to go back to London?"

"Yes," I sighed. "I'll explain later, let's get dressed first."

I dressed hurriedly because knowing my father, he would call back if I was even a second or two late from the promised time. If San and I were going to be together, he needs to know why I'm here. It's just a shame that he had to find out this way.

"It's okay, doll, I'm here if anything," San assured while the phone rang. "Oh, he picked up."

I panicked a bit and positioned the front camera to my face and out of San's. "Dad!"

“I'm disappointed that my only daughter doesn't want to talk to me," my dad's face held a little sadness, but nothing crazy. "Mingi and mom say hi."

"Who's Mingi?" San hissed. He winced a bit when I kicked him on the leg.

"I'm sure my brother," I glared pointedly at San. "And mum is fine."

My dad rolled his eyes dramatically. I guess that's where I got 

my bratty attitude from. "They'd be better if you came back home," he sighed dejectedly. "Next time you don't answer your phone, I'm cutting off your allowance."

"Dad..."

"I'm serious, Y/N, I'm getting old," he began to say, and I got nervous because I knew what he was about to say next. "If you could just give my friend's son a chance, you might make a connection with him."

San's gaze went from curious to immediately pissed. He gave me a flat look of annoyance. "Don't say a word," I mouthed silently at him.

"Dad, you know I want to be with someone I truly liked," I sighed  exhaustedly. "And I want the relationship to be natural, not because we were matchmarked with one another."

"I didn't tell you to marry him on the spot, sweetie," he said with a frown. "I'm not going to force you, but all I ask is an initial meet up and see where it goes from there."

When I didn't answer, my dad continued his tirade. "And what do you do, you rebellious child? You run away when you know we can't reach you!"

I glanced at San with a tight smile and a mutual understanding passed between us. Now that the truth was out, San looked weary and I got extremely nervous.

"I've met him plenty of times, he's a great guy, Y/N. Very polite, intelligent, and easy on the eyes too."

"I'm sure he is, dad," I chuckled nervously when San glared hard at the phone. He glared at it so hard I'm surprised laser beams haven't shot out from his eyes yet.

"If only you gave him a chance," my dad hummed thoughtfully. "He's a bit older than you are, but I'm sure you'll be in good hands."

"You know I'm not into older men," I mumbled under my breath. San had the gall to look extremely offended.

I muted myself really quickly and lifted my phone up so my dad couldn't see my annoyed face. "I'm just making excuses, don't give that look," I hissed at San. He just rolled his eyes like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

"He's not that old," another voice said from the background who wasn't my father. He must be out with his friends somewhere.

San raised a tentative brow and slowly sat up, but I ignored him.  He can stew for all I care. It's cute that he's jealous but this wasn't the right time, my dad might ask me to separate with San and I wasn't ready to get heartbroken yet, especially since we just made up.

"Ah, that's my friend, Cheol," my dad said. "Actually, it's his son that we were hoping to pair you up with---"

"Give me that shit, I can't take this anymore," San hissed and roughly grabbed the phone from my hands. I was about to protest loudly but when he gave me that especially terrifying glare of his, I sat back down.

"Please don't say anything stupid," I pleaded.

He raised a brow and rolled his eyes. He's really pissed, oh my. He cleared his throat and positioned the front camera properly towards his face. My dad must be so confused right now.

"Sir," San started with the most polite, but firm voice I've ever heard him speak. Spoken like a true business. "I'm your daughter's boyfriend and with all due respect, I really like---dad?"

I was so startled at San's voice but apparently so was he. It was like he saw a ghost with how pale and how wide his eyes have become. 

"San? San! Is that you?! Give me that real quick, Hyun Sok..."

I swiftly sat beside San so we were both in the camera. I was so surprised I couldn't even say a word. We heard quick shuffles from the other line and another man that looked just like San, but older, also had this shocked expression.

"That was your dad?" San looked at me.

"That was your dad?" I shot back.

"What are you doing in London, dad?" San managed to say despite the shock.

"Never mind me, son, what are you doing there?" his dad queried. I saw my dad shuffle in the camera and if it wasn't for the situation, I would have laughed at how priceless his shocked expression was.

"I knew that voice sounded familiar," San grumbled.

"Well, since it came to this," San sighed. He held my hand and brought it up to the camera for both our fathers to see. "Dad, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Doll, this is my father, Choi Jongcheol."

"Y/N? Is this true?" my dad inquired. I nodded in confirmation, afraid of his reaction, but instead me and San had the surprise of the lifetime when they started laughing loudly and chaotically.

"I gotta hand it to your son, Cheol, he sure gets the gold, know what I'm saying?"

"I taught him no less than that! Shit Sok, this was even better than we were hoping for!”

"Didn't even need to set them up for a dinner date, my God."

"Definitely went straight to dessert."

"Aye!"

"Okay," I spoke slowly and awkwardly. "Dad, what's going on?"

"Your boyfriend," he chuckled. "That's who I wanted you to meet a couple of years back!"

I was surprised, and so was San, with the new information. Now that I think about it, everything fit. The timeline of when San moved here, especially, and one time he did mention his father trying to set him up with someone but he also denied the offer.

"I thought you didn't want someone older?" my dad raised a brow mischievously.

"Some things change," I shrugged, trying hard to hide my blushing cheeks.

"How did you two meet?" Jongcheol asked curiously.

"You don't wanna know," San chuckled nervously. I blushed harder when he kissed my cheek in front of both our dads and both of them had this shit-eating grin on their faces.

"Well, we don't want to hold you guys," my dad said awkwardly and not making eye contact. I was confused until he said, "Your hair is messy, and San's shirt is on backwards."

I groaned in embarrassment and covered my face as I ducked away from the screen in order to save face. San chuckled softly at my demise.

"Well, be careful you two," San's dad teased and I heard my dad laughing in the background. "Use protection, Choi San, but not too much. We don't mind grandkids soon---"

"Dad! Ugh, so embarrassing!" San screamed and hung up.

He tossed the phone away somewhere on the bed as if it was the plague, itself. We both burst out laughing at the irony of the situation for ten minutes straight.

"Had I known it was you," I chuckled as I laid my head on his shoulder. "I'd have agreed immediately."

"We both didn't know, it's okay," San hummed. "We both ended up together anyway, didn't we?"

"True. The irony of it all, I can't believe this," I smiled. "Still, we could have met sooner."

"Sooner than that," he sighed. "Your brother has been trying to invite me to your house back then too. I just always said no because we were both busy trying to start the company."

I was startled. "You know my brother?"

I hadn't seen my brother, Mingi, for a while now. He was the reason why I was successful in moving here, though I never told him why. And my parents never told him either because I knew they didn't want to stress him out for his---

The realization hit me. Mingi was also ten years older than me, I was a happy accident, you see, and he was also trying to start a company with his friends here!

"Yes," San confirmed. "He's one of my best friends, didn't you see the photo by the doorway?"

I knew the photo he was referring to. It was the one that hung in his room, one of the very few decorations he had, that I was looking at where I thought it was his family at first and he said they were lifelong friends.

"I-I don't remember what it looked like," I admitted. San whipped out his phone and showed me the picture and my jaw hung open when I saw Mingi at the very top corner of the photo. "I've never seen Mingi with pink hair before, how was I supposed to know?!"

Needless to say, I was definitely going to call Mingi later. San laughed out loud at my expression and once again, we were laughing together.

"This fate thing is crazy," I giggled. "Do you regret anything?"

"Never," San shook his head. "I say we celebrate this new found information."

"And how do you propose we do that, Mr. Choi?" I teased.

I screamed when San got on top of me and he hovered over me with a playful smirk on his beautiful face. "I can think of a few ways," he pecked my lips. "What do you say?"

I giggled uncontrollably and nodded. We might not have started on the right track and some people might think I'm dumb for giving the man who forced me to his will a chance, but something tells me we're going to be fine.

By all means, San isn’t perfect and neither am I, but sometimes we need people who aren’t perfect to help us achieve what’s good for us, not what is right.

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Limitless

servant?san x queen!reader (more like king's right hand!san)

royal au, forbidden love

word count: 28k

genres and warnings: a lil fluff, a lil angst, smut (mdni!), reader is in a contract marriage but no actual cheating happens, abusive husband, violence and blood, lmk if i missed smth

synopsis: you're the princess of utopia, queen of eden by marriage to the king. for a whole year of marriage, you've taken his abuse but you're planning his downfall and you find an unexpected ally in the king's right hand choi san. he not only helps you plan but also shows you how it is like to be truly loved and wanted.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (she wrote royal au san and then she triggered me to write this)

You had long since stopped listening to the court members defend their opinions on revising the trade system- if you were ever once interested in how the kingdom ran, you’d only found yourself losing interest with each passing day- even though the kingdoms in question might be two of your own- one by birth and one by marriage.

Marriage, you scoffed internally. What a joke.

As one of the maids poured red wine into your glass- the only thing that seemed to keep you sane these days- you thanked her and struggled to contain the sigh when the king clinked against his glass to get everyone’s attention, silence spreading throughout the hall in an instance. The court members across the table looked eagerly at their young king who met eyes with everyone with a smile before he cleared his throat.

“I hear your concerns, and I hear your opinions. If I may… Lord Kang? What do you suggest we do to balance our imports and exports? We do not want the public to wonder if we’re relying too much on Utopia.”

You cast a glance towards the man seated across the table from you, his eyes fixated on Lord Kang who got up and began, “We’ve always had good relations with Utopia, especially after the union of our kingdoms not too long ago, Your Highness. I think if there is no conflict in the dealings, as long as the people get what they want, it won’t matter even if we rely too much on Utopia-”

“Are you suggesting that we actually rely too much on Utopia? Because I did not imply that that is the case. I simply do not want the people to stir… rumours.”

You watched the men around Lord Kang hush him. You stifled the urge to roll your eyes- it had always been like this-

“What does Her Majesty think?” Lord Jung’s voice brought you back to your senses and you straightened a bit, your eyes involuntarily travelling to meet the King’s whose expressions were unreadable yet again.

“I’ll have to agree with Lord Kang,” you finally said and a murmur sounded across the room. “Trade has run constantly for a decade now. I do not think there is a reason to worry about the public yet. As far as balancing our imports and exports are concerned… I am not against the idea if the production of trade materials is stable. But overall… I don’t think it will create much of a difference. What does Lord Park have to say about this?”

You managed to steer the discussion to Lord Park who further added to your point and you smiled to yourself as the people in the room nodded along and Lord Choi, the King’s Right Hand, concluded the agenda. You made the mistake of meeting your husband’s eyes once more and this time, you didn’t miss the glint in his eyes.

Your husband. The youngest king in Eden’s history, adored by the public, known for his brains. His brains had once attracted you-

And then you married him and found out just what sort of a person he truly was. A routine occurrence now, something you were sure you would be experiencing tonight too.

And sure enough, after a hearty dinner (though your appetite decreased with each passing second) and chats with the people of the court, when you retired for the night, you went to your room accompanied by guards- guards who would station themselves a good distance away whenever the King would return to his chambers. You never met eyes with the guards- you didn’t want to see any sort of pity in their eyes for you. Your personal maid was enough for that, though she never offered a word of kindness- you wondered if that would be considered treason or if the maid was just being cautious.

After taking a bath, you changed into a black silk nightgown that covered almost all of your skin. Maybe that would provoke the King less. You were just wondering if you should change into something that would make visible the marks your husband would leave on you tonight when you heard the sound of the doors opening- a sound that made your hair raise even after almost a year of your marriage. You heard the maids greet the King before scurrying off, and the door shut with a click. You remained sitting at the vanity brushing your hair while he leaned against the doorframe, inspecting you.

“Quite talkative today, are we?”

You didn’t respond. You still didn’t know whether responding made it better or worse. 

“I just need to ask you one thing, y/n,” he scoffed, running a hand through his light brown hair and approaching you slowly, coming to stand behind you so you could see him in the mirror. Your hands lay limp in your lap and you didn’t dare to meet his eyes in case he would think you were challenging him-

“Look at me when I talk to you.”

You did, and you knew instantly that there was no avoiding what was coming next. He placed his hands on your shoulders, squeezing them painfully. 

“How dare you challenge me during court?”

“I did not challenge you-”

“Do you think just because you’re the Princess of Utopia and Queen of Eden, you’re more powerful than me? Why don’t you run the kingdom then? I could sit back and relax-”

“You’re hurting me,” you managed to whisper, not being able to tolerate the pain of his fingers digging into your shoulders as if he wanted to rip you to shreds.

And perhaps he did. It had become a norm now, and you would always go someplace else. The pain didn’t register when he pushed you to the ground. You didn’t hear his screams though you could tell he was angry by the way he looked at you, eyes bloodshot. You weren’t in control of yourself when you would instinctively raise your arms to protect yourself from the object being thrown at you, from him-

Though you were no match for him. He would effortlessly pin you and scream in your face and do whatever he liked with you.

And with each passing day, you wished it would somehow be over. Your will to fight back was dimming now. So you let the King, loved by all of Eden and Utopia, your husband, have his way until he grabbed your face, yelled a warning that you didn’t process, and finally stormed out of the room with a shive. The flashes of black and red in front of your eyes finally began to clear, instead seeping in your skin and registering as pain.

Pain. Burning, endless pain.

You took a deep sigh, not making the effort to move. The cold floor against your cheek was comforting enough. You lay there sprawled on the floor, your hair all around you and matted to your skin, your eyes fixated on the broken ornament that had been a wedding gift from your mother. You wished to gather the pieces and glue them back together as if that could reverse the events of tonight, but you knew that it would never be whole again. 

You would never be whole again-

The sound of the door creaking open yet again was what finally made you snap up with panic welling in your chest and you crawled to the shards, trying to hide your wounds and gathering the shards in your hands at the same time- you could protect that, you could still save it-

“Your Majesty.”

You froze in your spot- that was not the King. That voice was the next familiar thing. Your shoulders relaxed just a bit though the tension in your muscles was finally starting to hurt. You remained silent and continued to gather the big pieces of what was once a glass crane while you heard the man inch towards you and finally settle down on one knee beside you.

If you were expecting another reprimand, you didn’t get that. Instead, he heaved a deep sigh before gently picking the shards from your hand and spreading a handkerchief on the ground, collecting them in it. You handed him the rest and finally looked at him, your hair obstructing your vision.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

He pursed his lips, folding the pieces gently in the cloth and getting up to place it back on your vanity. He looked down at you and shook his head in disappointment-

“I’ve had enough of that sorry excuse of a man.”

You raised a brow- that was quite a contrast from the first and only time he had seen you in this state. You pushed your hair back, noticing the fire in his eyes-

Lord Choi San, the King’s Right Hand. His loyal servant. He really shouldn’t be here.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, though he wasn’t having any of it. “Please do not do anything stupid on my behalf and leave. I am okay-”

“No, you’re not,” his voice was low and he shook his head. He took one step towards you and then he stormed out of the room, silently clicking the door behind him. You looked around at the mess your husband had created and wondered where you should start fixing it- from yourself? You were far too tired for that, so you got up with pain shooting in your left limbs from your fall. You started picking the objects around the room, your thoughts drifting to Lord Choi.

The first time he had witnessed you in that state, you had heard urgent knocks on the main door. The King had just stormed off to his private chambers after venting out his frustrations on you. Thinking it was your maid who, at that time, used to come after his sessions to clean up after him, you opened the door only to find someone else entirely.

Lord Choi’s eyes first met your tear-stained ones and then travelled to the bruise on your cheekbone and you saw recognition click in his face as horror washed over him. 

“Where is… the King?” He managed to ask, his eyes scanning your figure and you folded your arms in an attempt to hide the bruises forming there.

“Probably where he has been since the day we got married. You, of all people, should know you will rarely ever find the King in our shared chamber at night time… Lord Choi San.”

He frowned and turned to leave but then he turned towards you again, making you pause in the middle of shutting the doors. 

“Why do you let him do this to you?”

He sounded so angry at that moment. He had never been angry at you- in fact, as the King’s Right Hand you interacted with him once in a while and always found him warm and friendly, but he sounded so angry now.You wondered who his anger was directed at for a brief moment but you were far too tired to care, so you responded with a glare before you shut the door in his face.

“I may be higher in status than your King but as his wife, I am powerless.”

That had been about a month ago. You wondered why Lord Choi had come inside your chamber this time without warning, without knocking. Did he hear everything? Did he witness the King leaving and decided to check on you, because you were pretty sure he wouldn’t have dared to enter without permission if the King had been inside-

The door opened yet again and you watched in surprise as Lord Choi extended a hand for you, a first-aid kit in his other hand. 

“You really shouldn’t be here-”

He groaned and bent down to grab your wrist and gently lifted you up, steering you to the chair you had been sitting on before all this happened. He placed the kit on the vanity and went to grab himself a chair from the other end of the room, seating himself in front of you. Silently, he opened the kit and took out tweezers, extending his hand and looking at you. You rolled your eyes and placed your right hand in his palm so he could extract the shard he had noticed earlier. 

“Did you have to pick up the glass?” He tsk-ed as you winced when he pulled out the shard. 

“It was a gift from my mother,” you explained.

“I figured, but did you have to hurt yourself more?”

You pursed your lips. “If the King comes back, you and I are both dead. You know that, right?”

“If I cared, I wouldn’t be here in the first place,” he muttered. He gently applied ointment on your finger where the shard had been, and then he looked at you for permission before rolling your sleeve up a bit where he had spotted another bruise earlier, applying the ointment there as well. He asked you to tell him where else it hurt and you rolled your other arm so he could inspect your elbow as well. Finally, his gaze fell on your neck and he waited for your permission. You looked in the mirror-

There was a scratch alright, but you looked… horrible. You tucked your hair back- at least your face was okay this time, though your eyes looked so hollow. You turned back to him and he muttered a ‘sorry’ before scooting closer and drawing your hair away from your neck, leaning in and applying the ointment on your neck- so carefully, as if he could hurt you. His hand on your shoulder, that he probably didn’t realise was there yet, was absently squeezing it reassuringly- quite a contrast to how your husband had done that. 

The air felt thick as he leaned back a little to inspect your neck. He met your eyes and you scoffed out loud. 

“If you look at me like that and hold me so gently, I might end up catching feelings for you, Lord Choi San. I’m a married woman.”

To your surprise, his permanent subtle frown melted and he failed to stifle his smile, leaning back as he looked down in an attempt to hide his face, his dark hair falling on his forehead. He looked up at you to find you attempting to stifle your own smile but also failing, and you both shared a short laugh despite the situation.

Lord Choi shook his head, exhaling. “I’m sorry. I was here earlier and I heard the noise. I should have intervened earlier- or done something about this. I’m really sorry. I should have done something before it got this bad.”

“And what could you have done?” You cocked your head. “You can’t tame a monster. You’re only human.”

He didn’t look pleased to hear that and with a disappointed look, he started to pack the kit, your eyes fixated on him all along. He got up and passed a subtle bow, turning to leave-

And perhaps, with the last shreds of strength left in you, you grabbed the edge of his sleeve, stopping him. He froze for a moment before he turned, and for the first time, he spotted vulnerability in your eyes, realising he hadn’t seen you like this ever before- not that time he first saw you in this state, not even earlier tonight when you scrambled to hide your wounds. He wondered how you could be so powerless when you wore a crown on your head.

You tightened the grip on his sleeve, ignoring the tugging feeling in your heart from the way he looked at you. “You don’t have to do anything to the King. I… I will kill him myself.”

Something in Lord Choi’s heart both broke and healed- healed due to your resolve. He put his hand over yours, squeezing it. “You don’t have to get your hands dirty… Your Majesty. I will do that for you.”

A silent understanding passed between the two of you. You understood that now was not the time to discuss this so you let him go, but for the first time-

For the first time after coming here, you felt like you could accomplish anything.

—--------------------------

For the next couple of days, you remained in your chambers, not even bothering to get sun. The King would occasionally drop by and pretend you didn’t exist or have one of his servants come by to get your signature on whatever document he needed it on. You were always careful to hide your wounds- you simply did not want anyone to make stories about why you were in that state, so you would always welcome the servants- which in the long run benefited you since they were always reliable sources on what was actually going on in the castle.

You learned that the King was not too pleased with the court session of that day, with everyone concluding that the trade dealings between Eden and Utopia should carry on as before. You had suspected right after marriage that the King had plans to disrupt the trade business and though so far most of his efforts had been in vain- after all, he had to respect the opinions of the members of his court too- he was already involved in some underground dealings. That was a rumour you heard and you just needed someone to confirm it.

So you spent your days recovering wondering if that really was the case, how could you get back at the King while maintaining your status as his wife and not losing power as the Queen? Would you have to involve the court somehow and bring attention to the matter? You knew the King had only married you to strengthen the relations between the two kingdoms and though you believed that earlier, you were beginning to wonder if the King had some other ulterior motive.

Sometimes you found yourself wondering where it had all gone wrong. Yes, marriage amongst royals was usually done with intent- the partners were always selected because of their power, influence or some other legitimate reason. You knew that, however…

Would it have been so bad if the King and you could have had a normal relationship? If you two had become friends, at least? If he had at least respected you as the Princess of Utopia? You sighed, running your fingers over the teacup you had been holding for about half an hour now. The tea had long gone cold. 

And then there was the King’s Right Hand. Choi San. The only man who ever gave you butterflies.

And that was not just on the night a couple days ago, no. From the beginning, you had admired him for his relationship with the King- back when things were still peaceful and the King talked to you properly at the very least. He had usually acted as the mediator when you discussed business with the King. As his Right Hand, he usually accompanied him everywhere and his visits to your chambers in the early months of your marriage had been quite frequent. At that time, you had thought he was quite warm and considerate. But when the King started acting differently, his visits became less frequent and perhaps, at one point, you started looking at him as an accomplice.

And then he saw you that one night and you realised he never knew what was really going on between the King and you. Between that night and the recent one, he seemed to have avoided you on purpose, but if he had…

Why did he help you?

You were still zoning out when a knock sounded on your door and one of the maids stationed in the corner went to open the door. 

“Lord Choi is here, Your Majesty.”

And there it was. The butterflies were back. You wondered if it was from nervousness.

“Let him in,” you said, and the maid bowed, letting the King’s Right Hand in and moving to the next room. Lord Choi, dressed in his deep blue uniform, made sure no one was in earshot before bowing to you and seating himself in front of you.

“Tea?” You offered. “Though it might have gone cold now.”

His eyes travelled to your cup, still half full. “Thank you, but I’ll decline. I need your signatures on… these documents.”

You leaned forward as he handed you the documents, briefing you about their contents. With a sigh, you flipped through them, signing them until you reached the last page and found a note wedged in. You frowned, opening the note and reading:

The King won’t be coming here tonight- he is having drinks with his pals. Permission to come here tonight?

You looked at him. He didn’t give away any hint of emotion on his face- trained as a servant to not react to such situations. You gave him a subtle nod and handed the documents back. He bowed and left, leaving you with your bland tea.

Night time couldn’t have approached any slower. You told your maids you had a headache and wished to rest so they dressed you up in your nightwear and tucked you in bed. As soon as they left, you were up and pacing in your room, waiting and waiting-

And then giving up and lying on the bed, almost dozing off-

Until you heard very low, subtle knocks you could have dismissed as background noise. You were up and going for the door within a second and you opened it to the man you had waited for all day, who glanced around before entering.

“Any maids inside?”

“None,” you assured him and he nodded, relaxing a bit. 

“There’s a passage to escape in your room, right?” He asked and you nodded. “Then that’s where we’ll have our meetings so I can, uh, leave if we’re compromised.”

“Lord Choi… You don’t have to sound so serious, you know,” you said- you simply couldn’t help it. He side-eyed you before motioning for you to lead him to your room.

“Just call me San.”

You resisted the urge to pause and look at him, simply nodding and the two of you sat on the sofa in your room. An awkward, almost uncomfortable silence fell as the reality of the situation started to sink in.

The King’s Right Hand in the Queen’s room in the middle of the night. His presence alone could warrant for an execution, let alone the treason you were both about to plan. San shifted awkwardly towards you, scanning your figure once. 

“Are you… okay?”

“Yeah,” you took a deep breath. “Yeah… I’m okay. The maids take care of me.”

San looked down, his fists clenching and unclenching as he wondered what to say, where to begin. You could understand his frustration. You decided to ask him something then.

“How long have you been the King’s Right Hand?”

“Long enough,” he replied. “Before that, I would accompany his father’s Right Hand. I’ve grown up here, actually, but my parents left the castle after what happened to the King and the Queen.”

He was referring to the incident that took the life of your husband’s parents- the ship sinking during their travels a few years ago. That was the first time you had visited Eden, for the funeral as a representative of Utopia since your father couldn’t make it. You recalled being impressed by how the son who just lost his parents had stood tall and assured his people that Eden would continue to thrive as it had during his parents’ reign. You also remembered your first interaction with the then Prince, soon to be crowned King, where you offered your condolences and touched on various subjects. After a proposal came only a year later, you wondered if you had made a good impression on him after all.

Oh, how you wished you could go back to that time so you never stepped foot here.

“Has he… has he always been like this?”

San looked at you- he didn’t find any hint of pain in your eyes, rather… you almost looked as if you were pitying the King for being broken were it not for the fire in your eyes. Because broken was the only word San could call the King now. No man was supposed to treat a woman this way. 

“I… I don’t know,” San admitted. “He’s never been one to waste time seeking pleasure before marriage, and I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t realise what was happening sooner.”

“It’s not like you could have done anything,” you sat back, turning to your right to pour yourself a glass of wine. You offered one to San but he refused. “What is your plan now? If your King learns what you’re doing behind his back… you realise what could happen, right?”

“I do,” he matched your gaze and you were satisfied to see that there was not a hint of doubt in his eyes. “I won’t ask you to trust me- that would be asking for a lot, but… I can help you if you tell me what you wish to do. I have already tried talking to the King about a month ago, but…” San tsk-ed in disappointment. “I don’t think I can talk him through this. And he’s never been one to keep his servants close. As a servant, I can’t dare to talk back to him.”

“Yet here you are,” you smiled, swirling the red liquid in your glass. “If it were up to you… how would you plan the downfall of the King?”

San flinched at the words- even though you had barely spoken them loud, he wished you had whispered them. But perhaps you deserved to scream those words in the open. “Well… I’ve thought about it. Realistically, if you demand a divorce, I don’t think the King will give you what you want. It might worsen the situation.”

“That’s right…” you nodded. “Carry on.”

San took a deep breath, thinking. “You cannot just go and tell someone about how you are being mistreated. The people serve the King and he holds the power. It would cost him nothing to silence someone who dares to speak out.”

“Correct. And that leaves…”

“A few options. I would not suggest actually killing the King,” San winced at the thought. “Even though it’s tempting. But there are fates worse than death… don’t you agree?”

You nodded. It looked like you and him were both thinking the same thing. 

“I think the only way you could gain something from this- because with all due respect, you shouldn’t just leave empty-handed,” San scoffed and a faint smirk crawled on your lips, “The King needs to be publicly ridiculed.”

You whistled. “What would the King say if he heard you talk like that?”

San passed you a desperate look and you chuckled to yourself. “You don’t have to be so tense. At least not with me, not here, where you’re just San and I’m just… y/n. But carry on.”

San wasn’t having any of it. “A trap of sorts. The King isn’t the saint the public makes him to be, so our only bet is to make his secret dealings public- ones which don’t benefit our kingdom. And as the Right Hand… I have intel. I just need to check a few things and then I can provide you all the information you need. It is up to you to decide what to do with it, and… you can use me in whatever way you want. I am at your disposal… Your Majesty.”

You nodded slowly, letting it sink in. “We shall plan together then?”

“Together,” he agreed, “If that is what you want.”

“I have a few… conditions.”

“Of course,” his brows furrowed as he focused on you. “Please.”

“First of all… you should start using the secret passages more- if a guard spots you entering here, it won’t be good.”

“Okay, that shouldn’t be a problem,” San agreed. 

“Right,” you nodded. “I’m blindly betting my life on you so try not to betray me, will you? Or at least let me know if you need to switch sides-”

“That- that won’t happen,” San let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he looked down. “My mother didn’t raise me like that.”

You smiled at his words. “She sounds wonderful. And San?” He looked at you and you continued, turning fully towards him. “You have to promise me something. Promise me that if you ever hear something or walk in to the King doing something to me… you will not interrupt-”

“No-”

“Let me finish,” you raised your hand and he sighed, giving in. “I already have a plan in my head, and honestly, it’s a miracle that you’re here right now. But in my big plan… I have to let the King do whatever he does to me. I cannot have you destroying everything I’ve worked for. You have to understand that if you interrupt and expose yourself… we’re both done for. We lose. I cannot lose now, do you understand?”

San looked like he was struggling to answer and you scooted closer, putting a hand on his clenched fist, making him relax a bit. “You’re already helping me out enough by simply being here. Your presence… it’s enough. I feel like I can conquer now that I know I’m not alone,” you let out a short laugh and San smiled at that. “But please. It’s a sacrifice I have to make to win.”

San put a hand over yours, stealing a glance before shaking his head. “I cannot promise, but… I will try.”

You nodded absently, focused on his firm grip on your hand, his rough fingers caressing yours almost lovingly. You shook your head to draw yourself out of the trance. You knew you were starved for affection but you hadn’t realised how much impact such a gesture would have on you. You squeezed his hand before drawing it away.

“That’s it, then…” you said. “I just have to go over a few things. You can come into my room during nighttime- it’s not like I really sleep. I’ll unlock the secret door,” you pointed to the door behind the tapestry. “You just have to make sure the King won’t be coming back for the night before you do.”

“Alright,” San got up and looked around. “There’s another door in your office, right? I might use that instead. It connects with my room too.”

“That’s better, just don’t walk into the King gloating in my office and you’re fine- it’s where he goes to ‘vent’,” you said and he scoffed.

“I’ll take my leave then. Good night, Your Majesty.”

Before he could exit the room, you said, “San? I have another condition.”

San turned, raising a brow. “And what’s that?”

“It’s y/n for you.”

San chuckled at that despite the anger that had been roiling in him since he saw you in that state. “Whatever you say… Your Majesty.”

With that, he left, leaving you smiling into the distance for a long time.

—-------------------------

The next few days, you remained as invisible as you could. You had a few meetings and a party scheduled that you had to attend along with the King, but you were careful not to challenge him in court. You did not want the King to wonder why there was suddenly life in your eyes, so you made sure to keep your eyes unreadable.

Because there was, suddenly, life in your eyes. Hope. You were beginning to feel hopeful and you knew how dangerous that was, but you couldn’t help it. Not when you finally had someone who was going to lay his life on the line for you. Now you couldn’t help but smile when something reminded you of him- whenever you planned in your head, or when you dared to note a few things down on paper only to burn it in the end because you could leave no trace… 

You would find yourself smiling as you watched the pages burn in the fireplace.

It wasn’t too hard for you to gather information about the King’s weak point. The thing about people was that they loved a good gossip session. And since the King had made the mistake of not limiting your social attendance, whenever you met up with the wives of earls or dukes, drinks would be passed and their lips would loosen. They didn’t even comprehend how dangerously the information could be used. Over the few months of your marriage, you had enough gossip in your brain that you could iron out the details for. You had a few open spots you could attack the King for- 

But you would wait for San. You needed to hear him first, because no matter how much information you had gathered, nothing could come close to what San would have as the person who knew every move his King made. 

You wondered if San would agree with you on one of these things, and you wondered which of them even held leverage, because if you went in blindly with one of these, it wouldn't end well for you and whoever sourced this information. You didn’t want to risk dragging anyone else. 

“Your next move… Your Majesty?” Your maid asked, looking at you and then at the chessboard you had been staring at for far too long.

“Oh, forgive me, I got lost in thought,” you chuckled, moving one of the rooks across the board. “Isn’t it quite late? Have you had dinner yet?”

“Not yet,” the maid admitted and you narrowed your eyes in disappointment, making the young girl laugh. 

“We can continue later,” you marked the moves on the notepad and handed it to the maid who began to wrap up the board. “You should have dinner on time. You’ve got other duties too. Me? I only have to sit and look pretty.”

The maid grinned at that and bowed before leaving and you smiled at her. She was the only one who had been kind enough to keep you occupied with distractions- often bringing board games or embroidering material for when the King was away and you were all alone with your thoughts. Perhaps, she had heard from the only maid who knew how abusive the King was. Perhaps, the King had ordered the young girl to keep you entertained. You didn’t know and you couldn’t ask.

The King was on a one day trip to the neighbouring city for some ‘business’ dealing. He often went there and you were starting to suspect if there was actually some business there or if he had someone just like you in his family house. You ate dinner and waited for bedtime but the King arrived back before that, entering your chamber.

“Good evening,” you called, his maids helping him take off his coat. You glanced behind- San wasn’t with him. “I hope you had a nice trip.”

“Yeah, nothing much,” the King shrugged off the extra layers and settled on the couch. You knew that it meant that he wasn’t in a sour mood (yet) so you relaxed a bit, ordering the maids to bring some fresh tea for him. 

“Would you like to take a bath before you settle down?”

“I’ll have tea first, I’m pretty tired,” he rubbed his face and then looked at you, just having recalled. “Did you attend the dinner at the Earl’s place last night?”

“I did,” you said and he nodded in approval. “They seem to be doing quite well recently. His wife couldn’t stop flaunting her new diamond necklace.”

The King scoffed. “I told the Earl to keep it subtle, but what man can resist a celebration when he scores a good deal?”

“And what deal was that?” You crossed your legs casually, hoping to get something out of him.

“Remember the funds we were keeping aside for the army?” he asked and you nodded. “A few officials from Wonderland offered us more funds in an exchange for the blueprints of our latest weapons.”

You made an impressed face. “Sounds like a nice deal, but I wouldn’t trust Wonderland too much. They have a history of turning on you when times are tough.”

“Yeah, that’s because you’re Utopian,” the King laughed. “Utopia and Wonderland have always been at each other’s throats.”

That wasn’t the truth, but you decided to not argue. You were far too tired to have another session with him. “So that is how the wife got those diamonds, huh?” You laughed. “Well deserved, then.”

“Would you like some too?” The King looked at you, eyes expectant. 

You absolutely hated when he looked at you like that. At first, you thought it was an offer to take a step to improve your relationship with him, and you would accept whatever he offered you. But no amount of diamonds or rubies could erase what he had done, you knew that. And you knew that it wasn’t an offer- it was a trap. The King was a sadistic man who just wanted to prove to you time and time again that he was in charge of making you happy.

And you could either agree and play along, or…

“I still haven’t worn the emeralds you got me last time,” you sighed wistfully as you looked towards your room where the dresser was. “I was hoping to exhibit them at some occasion first.”

“Well, an occasion is near,” he smirked. “Our anniversary.”

“That is two months away, by the way.”

“But it should be celebrated with a blast, don’t you think?” He relaxed back and you could see that he was already planning. “Maybe we could have an emerald theme for you.”

You resisted the urge to scratch his face but you only smiled. “That doesn’t sound bad, actually.”

But your heart sank when he narrowed his eyes at you. “You don’t seem too pleased, though. What more do you want?”

“Oh, no, I am pleased,” you assured. “But we don’t have to plan it right now. You must be tired.”

“I am, actually,” the King shrugged. “Might sleep here tonight.”

You contained the sigh that threatened to leave you. “Let me prepare the bed then.”

Without waiting further, you got up and walked to your room- it was your room. The King had only slept here a handful of times, and he would always leave before dawn. He had made it pretty clear it was your room. But whenever he was tired, and you supposed he needed company, he would sleep with you. Sometimes, even though you hated it, he would make you laugh. Sometimes he would kiss your forehead. One time, he even kissed your lips as he apologised for all his past actions, promising to be a better man, but he never kept his word. He may be called ‘a man of his word’ by the public but he never kept his word to you. And at this point, you were too scared to say no to him. It was a good thing that he hated you and never really touched you. That was the only reason you were still intact.

So you pretended to be pleased when the King settled down next to you. You pretended to enjoy his stupid stories of unimportant things, knowing he just wanted someone to talk to. You added in a few stories of your own, nothing that would give too much away, just so he wouldn’t think it was him making all the effort. And when he fell asleep, you forced yourself to sleep next to him, eyes fixed on the tapestry in your room.

And the next day, you woke up to find him gone. Good riddance.

And that night, you almost thought it was the King again when you heard the creak of a door and you came out of your office only to find-

“San,” you breathed, a hand on your heart from the utter relief that it was not your husband. “A little warning next time, maybe.”

“I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s okay,” you shook your hand in dismissal, scanning him. “I didn’t see you with the King last night. Did you not go with him on that trip?”

“He told me I could have the night off as soon as we entered the castle,” San stepped closer, his eyes scanning everywhere on your body. “Are you okay? He didn’t do anything to you last night, did he?”

You stifled a smile at his worry. “He didn’t. He slept here last night. He was too tired to do anything, and I was careful.”

“Good,” San nodded. “Because I have news. Where do we…?”

You guided him to your office, telling him he could easily hide here if you two ever got interrupted because your office looked more like a storage than an actual office, with books and boxes everywhere. It was your comfort space, though. You resumed arranging the documents from the previous meeting while he spoke.

“Do you know what goes on in the family house?”

“I bet it’s not anything I’d like to know?” You looked at him and he nodded. “Well then, don’t tell me.”

“The… people, there,” San was careful to word it correctly. “Often bring news. They are more like his spies. And I’ve heard that Wonderland and Eden’s deal might not work- something about foreign interference. The King doesn’t know yet.”

“Ah,” you put the papers down. “He seemed quite pleased that it had worked. Not just him- the Earl I went to the day before.”

“Right,” San walked around the room, inspecting the bookshelves. “I saw it coming, but… I thought I’d let you know. The King will be angry when he learns about this.”

You realised then that San was also warning you long with all the planning. You pursed your lips. “Thanks for letting me know. Did you think about a plan?”

You seated yourself in front of him in the spare chairs as he folded his arms in thought. “It might be a little selfish, maybe sadistic…”

“All the better,” you confirmed and he scoffed, making you shrug in amusement. 

“I think if we have to bring the King down… we should target his strength, not his weaknesses. So you might have to change your approach.”

You raised a brow. “How so?”

“What is the King well known for? What is the King proud of?”

“A number of things, but… his dedication? His loyalty to the people?”

“Close,” San straightened before leaning forward and locking eyes with you. “Ever since he was just a prince, he was known to never go back on his word. He keeps his promises with his people. And just recently, he has promised the people that there won’t be another repetition of what happened two decades ago when Wonderland and Eden almost went to war. When countless people were killed while preparing for a war that never happened.”

“When Utopia intervened and stopped the war before it could happen,” you recalled and San nodded.

“The people of Eden have always been wary of Wonderland. The King promised that there will be peace. But how would the people feel if they learned that the King is joining hands with the Wonderland military to start annexing islands around their territories?”

You frowned. “I thought it was only Mist Island? And in that case, Mist Island was once Eden.”

San shook his head. “I wish it was only Mist Island. They’re targeting at least three islands other than Mist Island and they will attack all at once. The military of Eden and Wonderland will work together- and we all know how hungry for power Wonderland is. They won’t stop there- after Wonderland helps us take over every island in our territory, Wonderland will use the blueprints our King himself provided and take over our land- I suspect this, but the King refuses to see this right now because Wonderland has managed to bribe everyone in power, including him. They are not only providing military funds but their own military too. They’re going to attack from the inside when they begin their plan.”

You took a deep breath. “Are you sure about all of this? One hundred percent?”

“Yes,” San nodded. “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here because I don’t know who else to turn to. Everyone else is too blind to see it. And I’m not only joining you because I want to help you- you’re literally the only person who could stop this, Your Majesty. I would have come to you even if the King and you were on good terms.”

You considered that, feeling overwhelmed by his revelation. “What prompted you to take this step, San?” You asked, genuinely curious. “Because if the King learns about this, he would consider it a betrayal. And I’m not talking about our ‘revenge’.”

San took a deep breath. “When my father was the Right Hand, he was more like an advisor to the King, may he rest in peace. My father has long since retired but he has only given me one piece of advice that stuck with me- he said that sometimes, the people in power cannot see the sufferings of the common man when they make such big decisions. It is our duty to make them see it. And believe me, I have tried,” San laughed in defeat. “I told the King that it was a bad idea to join hands with Wonderland, even before your marriage. I respected him as a man, as a ruler, and when he didn’t take my advice, I accepted it. I thought maybe I was the only one who couldn’t see the big plan. But now that you’ve admitted that yourself even just with Mist Island… I think you can see it. You can feel the pain of the civilians. And that is the most respectable quality a ruler could possess.”

You looked down at your hands in your lap, fidgeting nervously. Even in your reign as a princess back in Utopia, no one had ever said such kind words about you. No one had ever acknowledged you, and it was as if San could really see who you were.

“And I… I once respected the King as a man. Not anymore. Not after I told him that the way he treated you was no way for a king to treat his queen and he threatened to fire me. I told him to go ahead but he let me go with a warning to not involve myself in his personal matters. But what kind of a man treats his wife like that? I just can’t respect him anymore. I refuse to be a part of his schemes.”

“That’s… impressive, Choi San,” you finally said and he raised his brows at the way you looked at him. “I always liked you but I didn’t know you had such respectable values. Your parents have raised you very well.”

“Your husband… his parents raised him quite well too. I don’t understand what happened to him. If they were alive… none of this would be happening. None of this.”

You nodded. If they were alive… you would have liked them. Your chest felt tight all of a sudden.

“You know,” you laughed sarcastically as you got up, turning your back towards the King’s Right Hand. “Sometimes I wondered if I was doing something wrong. I wondered if I was too over my head or thought too highly of myself. I thought I deserved this. And if you hadn’t told me the things you told me tonight… I would have continued to blame myself even after we got our revenge. So thank you, San. Thank you for acknowledging me and believing me when no one did. Thank you for caring for the people and worrying about this kingdom when no one else is. I will make sure everyone knows that they owe it to you, because I will expose the King. I will not let Eden fall. I am the Queen, and I will not let my people down.”

San’s heart ached at the way your voice almost cracked at the end, and then it swelled in pride because you, despite being treated that way by the King, cared about the people. As if the people had done anything for you. San got up and slowly walked to you, knowing you were holding back from the way your shoulders tensed and relaxed repeatedly. He wished you had someone by your side to comfort you at this moment, but you had no one. You were so alone here.

So he decided to be that for you- at least for tonight, for this moment. He put his hands on your shoulders softly, almost cursing himself when you flinched but relaxing with you as you subtly nodded to let him know that it was okay. 

“You…” San began, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re a very strong person. I’m sorry that Eden has only let you down even after all this time, and I’m thankful beyond words that despite all of that, you are choosing to stand up for us. I’m sorry that you have to go through whatever you are going through, but none of it, absolutely none of it is your fault, okay? A king is supposed to cherish his queen. A queen is supposed to be the only person the king bows to. The only person a king would take an arrow for. You may not be his queen, but you are my queen. You are my queen and the people’s queen. They look up to you. And they will protect you when the time comes. So don’t be too hard on yourself, Your Majesty. You owe us nothing, but we will never forget what you have and will do for us.”

You nodded and wiped your face. He squeezed your shoulders assuringly, letting his hands trace your arms before squeezing them too. “I am here for you, Your Majesty. I am here… y/n.”

You laughed a little at that, glad he couldn’t see you but you knew he was smiling too. “This is not a good time to call my name, San. I’m very vulnerable right now.”

San couldn’t help but feel curious. He knew he was treading on very dangerous lines, but…

“Y/n.”

You sighed deeply at that. His hands still on your upper arms caressing the bare skin did not help at all. 

“Would it be too much if I asked for a hug?” 

San instantly knew that you had never received a genuine hug since you arrived here from your voice alone. From the way your shoulders kept curling in. From the way your fists were so tight. Perhaps, not even the maids had helped you- he knew the King was sadistic enough to make sure of that. So San crossed the line, let his hands travel further down to unclench your fists and lined them. He heard your breath hitch when he raised your linked hands, when you realised what he was about to do. And then his heart sank in the most beautiful way when he wrapped your linked arms around your waist, when your back met his body and you melted into the hug, when he found your hearts beating in synchronisation. 

And he let you stand like that for the longest time, rocked you lightly in the hug until you had your fill. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. He did not know and he did not wish to find out. When you finally squeezed his hands, he let you go and was surprised to find how reluctant he was.

You couldn’t face him, though. You were afraid you would break down or do something worse. So you only said, “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

“Anytime, Your Majesty.”

You frowned at his intentional switch to your title, and when you found him grinning, you thought it was the most beautiful thing you had seen in a while. He bowed and left, and you didn’t plan anything. You simply sat on your chair and thought about how he felt against you for the rest of the night.

—---------------------------

You and San were starting to fall into a little routine now. 

It looked like the deal with Wonderland was really happening. The King hadn’t told you anything more about that plan, but he became busier and you were careful to avoid him as much as you could- that man could not cope with stress and would only take it out on you if you so much as breathed in the wrong way. You would only interact once at the end of the day when he would come into your chamber to visit his office- much of which he had moved to his private chamber now- and you would ask him how his day was and if he needed anything. You were glad he was busy and didn’t have time to look at you. You didn’t want to be looked at anyway.

San, however, was updating you almost daily. Every night after the King would settle in his own room, after about an hour or two, San would knock on the door that opened to your room and you would let him in. You would both then spend the rest of the time in your office where you would match your information, plan out the next strategy and…

Talk. Simply talk like two normal human beings who didn’t bear such heavy titles.

You loved hearing San talk. His voice was soothing- even when you had only interacted with him formally, you had noticed how soothing his voice was whenever he talked to you, whenever he switched his tone with you. Around the King or when on duty, he was a different man, but perhaps, this was who San really was. Perhaps, this was what San sounded like- like morning dew on a clear day. Whenever San told you something about himself, you always listened carefully. You noted how his eyes would curve ever so slightly whenever he talked about his hometown, of his parents and siblings, of his friends who were scattered across the kingdom. 

Sometimes, between talking, he would suddenly become aware. He would pause and straighten and you would see the physical shift in his body as he reminded himself that he was the King’s Right Hand and shouldn’t be here in the middle of the night trading stories with you. But he couldn’t help it- he didn’t like how wary you would become whenever he started acting like his title. So he would urge himself to relax a bit, just so you could have some peace of mind. 

You hadn’t told San much about yourself, but he had learned a lot of things about you in the past two weeks. He learned that the King was manipulating you- he would behave well with you whenever he needed favours from you as the Princess of Utopia but as soon as he got the job done, he would go back to being the same. He learned how big a role you played as a Princess back in your kingdom and how involved you really were. He also realised that the King probably wanted to lessen your involvement before he could carry out the plan.

But these were the things he already somewhat knew. What he hadn’t realised was how strong you were and how brave you were. What he didn’t know was how you were still just someone yearning to be loved and treated right. When you asked him one day if he considered you a friend, San had been silent for a long time.

“I’ve never really had a true friend,” you laughed as you said. “You know how it is with us. People are always after something. They’re always using you and you learn to use them in return and call it a ‘friendship’. They don’t think twice before stabbing you in the back. So I wonder… even if we are somewhat using each other… would you say that we are friends?”

And when he only stared at you for a long time, you sighed. “I get it. You’re the King’s Right Hand. You can’t be friends with the Queen. I get it, really-”

“No, it’s not that, I…” San laughed nervously. “I just… I’m flustered, I’ll admit it. Seems like I’m still getting used to the fact that you are the queen and I’m only a mere servant, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, please,” you tossed the ball of yarn you had been playing with at him and he caught it with a laugh. “I’m not gonna pretend that I don’t know you call me ‘Your Majesty’ on purpose now.”

“It’s what I’m used to,” he pouted.

“Also… you’re not just a ‘mere servant’, San,” you insisted. “If I cared about titles, I wouldn’t have given you the power to control my fate. Because my fate is in your hands now. You could do anything with all the information you have now-”

“I would never-”

“I know,” you smirked. “Just letting you know that I’d rather be your friend than your enemy, ever.”

San had laughed at that, the first time he had ever truly laughed in front of you, and you wondered if that was the moment when he finally started loosening up, when he admitted that it was an honour that you would offer your friendship to him and you scolded him again. When he started treating you more casually, calling you by your title only teasingly. When he started worrying about you and making sure you were eating properly and staying out of the King’s way when he was sensitive. 

And when it felt like he was finally starting to treat you as an equal. Just a couple nights ago, you told him that over a chess game with him as you planned.

“Sometimes I wonder if this was all I needed,” you said. “Maybe I just needed someone who wouldn’t hold me in such high reverence or wouldn’t dismiss me as if I meant nothing. I hope you see me as an equal, San.”

“I do,” he admitted, but dropped your queen piece on the board and called checkmate, making you gape at him. “Which is why I’m not letting you win this game.”

You were just staring at the chessboard and recalling that fond memory when one of your maids knocked on the door. 

“The King requests your presence in the Great Hall,” she said. “Something about planning your anniversary party.”

“Isn’t it too soon for that?” You wondered, looking in the mirror to make sure you looked presentable. 

“I’ve heard some officials from Wonderland are visiting soon so the King is wondering if it would be too bad to kill two birds with one stone,” she said casually, shrugging. “Not a bad idea. We haven’t had a party in long.”

You shot her a dirty look but she only grinned before opening the door for you. 

The Great Hall was surprisingly full. You recognised the court people and a group of people around the King who you presumed were the event planners. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes- it looked like the King was doing pretty okay all by himself. What did he need you for-

“Your Majesty,” one of the court people who noticed you first got up, drawing everyone’s attention to you and the King patted the chair next to him- 

Between him and San.

Your heart sank and you greeted everyone before joining them at the end of the hall. San got up and bowed to you before drawing the seat for you and you thanked him.

“The guest of honour arrives!” The King announced and everyone raised their glasses. You smiled at them before turning towards your husband. 

“What is going on?”

“Oh, we’re just planning a party for you,” he leaned forward to speak in your ear. “The Prince of Wonderland arrives next week. I thought we could use our anniversary party as an excuse to welcome him as well.”

“Good idea, actually,” you said and shifted away subtly- you did not want him breathing down your neck. “In that case, the emerald theme sounds nice too. Emerald is Wonderland’s colour.”

“Oh, I totally forgot about that, thanks for reminding me,” he grinned, the man next to him calling him to look over something and you exhaled, running your eyes across the table to take everyone in. They all seemed to be talking about Wonderland, though.

“Your Majesty,” San called and you turned to him, surprised. “I just need your confirmation on a few things.”

“Go ahead,” you said and he called one of the event planners and you spent about half an hour running over everything with them. The King would join in between to tweak it a little, and finally…

“Sounds like we have a plan,” the King announced, pleased. “Shall we have dinner now?”

You excused yourself and went to join the women at the other end of the table where dinner was served. You tried not to look at San who was seated in front of you next to the King. Everyone congratulated you and the King for sticking with each other for a whole year and you felt disgusted at the King’s attempt to flatter you. As if he had ever acted like a husband. However, you made sure to smile at the right time and nod along. You had a throbbing headache by the time it was over. You dismissed the maids after they prepared your bath and soaked in it for a long time before dressing for bed.

But you couldn’t sleep. You felt such anger in you. You had never felt this angry before- not even when the King first showed his true colours. How dare that man use the excuse of your anniversary to pretend that the party was in your honour, that he was ‘lucky to have you as a wife’ as he said in the Great Hall just earlier? How dare he use the excuse of your anniversary party to welcome the Prince of Wonderland who had time and time again turned his back on Utopia, on your people?

You stood by the window staring holes into the fireplace and you almost didn’t hear the subtle knocks next to you. You uncovered the door and found San already peeking inside.

“I got worried for a second- I had been knocking for a minute now,” San entered and you drew the curtains on the window. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I was just zoning out,” you said, wincing when a sharp pain shot through your head again. San frowned at that.

“Are you feeling okay? You look pale.”

“Just a headache,” you assured him, but he wasn’t having any of it. 

“Do you have chamomile here? Let me make you some tea-”

“It’s okay-”

“Please, I insist,” he guided himself out and you almost smiled at how he naturally took charge. He went to the kitchen, found the drawer where you kept your tea and began to boil some water. You leaned next to the doorframe as he prepared the cups and he glanced at you, chuckling at the way you stood watching him.

“I quite like the sight of you in the kitchen. Maybe you could switch from Right Hand to personal maid.”

San snickered at that. “I bet you’d like that. Didn’t you have a headache just now? Go sit or something.”

You pouted at that and when he finished pouring the water into the cups, you decided to settle on the couch in your office. 

“So?” San asked after taking a few sips. “What brings the headache tonight?”

“As if you don’t know,” you glared at him from the corner of your eye. “I didn’t realise the King was this enthusiastic about hosting Wonderland here.”

“I didn’t either, trust me,” San admitted, putting his cup on the table. “Something must have changed while I was away.”

San was referring to the two-day leave he got to visit home. You nodded in agreement. “Do let me know when you catch up with your King.”

You didn’t mean to sound so bitter and San looked surprised as well. You drank another sip before placing the cup on the table and getting up, going towards the window and opening it. You needed air. You needed to take a few, deep breaths-

“What’s wrong?” San almost whispered, not too far from where you stood.

“Nothing, I just need some air,” you muttered.

“Please, y/n? You promised not to hide anything from me.”

“I don’t know, I’m just so angry, San,” you sighed deeply. “I really don’t like playing along with this. That man will pretend to be affectionate at the party but I know the Prince will do something to tick him off and he’ll come to take it all out on me. I don’t want to prepare or plan for a party that I know will not end up well.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “It’s getting harder for me to keep playing along, and I’m afraid I will snap and do something irreversible, and all that we have worked for will be in vain.”

“That won’t happen,” he said and it sounded like a promise even when you knew it wasn’t. “You’re doing so well. You won’t give in. I know how the Prince loves to mock you, but… try not to mock him back this time, will you? Even though I love how you always show him his place…”

You laughed at that and San joined. He placed a hand on your shoulder, turning you towards him. He scanned your face with a smile. “You’re so strong, and you’re holding up so well. You don’t even have to think of that event as an anniversary if that is what bothers you. It won’t be long after that we can finally put our plan to action.”

“That doesn’t bother me,” you told him. “I just… I wish, I-”

You couldn’t say it. You couldn’t admit it. Not now. But how could you hold back when he was looking at you like you were the most precious thing he had laid his eyes on? You sometimes hated the adoration in San’s eyes. How could you hold back when he held you like you were fragile? How could you not tell him that when you sat next to him today at the Great Hall… you wished he was the one who was yours? Not only by title, but truly, wholly yours?

You weren’t sure if San could read that in your eyes- he was pretty good at reading you. But when you tried to turn away from him, he grabbed your wrist gently, stopping you right there. He stepped closer to you.

“Look at me.”

You couldn’t.

“Look at me, y/n,” he said and you shook your head but he brought his hand to your face, glad that you didn’t flinch for once and tucked your hair behind your ear before cupping your face and making you lock eyes with him.

“It’s going to be over soon, I promise,” he said, caressing your hand that he was already holding. “And then you are free. I can’t imagine how tough it is for you to simply hang in there and wait, but-”

“But you make it better,” you whispered, your gaze falling to his locked lips. “You… I wish I… I wish that you-”

San let go of your hand to put a finger on your lips, surprising you and himself. “Don’t say it, y/n. Don’t say it.”

And then you knew. You knew that you weren’t wrong. You knew that perhaps, he felt a fraction of what you felt for him. And you could see how tense he was, how much he was holding back. He kept scanning your face, his gaze falling on your lips multiple times. He shook his head, attempting to draw himself out of the trance and he drew his finger away but you took that opportunity to bring your hand to his face-

Oh, how devastatingly beautiful he was. How much you loved his little gestures that you were sure no one but you noticed- the slightest frowns, the twitch of his lips, the clenching of his jaw. You caressed his face and he looked helpless. 

“Why?” You finally asked.

He didn’t respond. His hand snaked behind your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek and then he leaned forward just the tiniest bit. You responded by doing the same and you both found yourselves leaning into each other- by this point, his breath caressed your lips-

And before you could take another step, you heard the main door unlocking and your eyes went wide with fear. San instantly stepped away from you and you looked at the escape door, praying that one made less noise before you calmed your breathing, picked the extra cup and placed it on the shelf, and appeared out of your office-

“Oh. I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

“And you’re up late,” the King scanned you. “What were you doing?”

“I just woke up with a headache so I made some tea for myself and was going through some stuff in the office. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, just needed to get something from my office-”

“At this hour?” You made the mistake of asking and he paused to glare at you.

“And? What about it?”

“Nothing,” you raised your hands in surrender. “I’ll give you space.”

You started towards your room but he grabbed your wrist and you couldn’t help but compare it to a certain someone- your husband’s grip was always a bit too strong. You turned to face him and your heart sank when he looked angry.

“Look, I’m not in the mood to fight tonight, but I have to warn you,” he began, his grip tightening again making you wince. “Do not mess with any plans. Do not challenge the Prince of Wonderland when he comes. It won’t end well for us if you do.”

“Okay, I won’t,” you said, trying to extract your hand back but he pulled you towards him, pointing a finger in your face for good measure before letting you go. 

You knew then- you wouldn’t try anything but you wouldn’t let the Prince disrespect you or your kingdom, no matter the consequences.

—--------------------------

“The gloves, the gloves!” Your maid called and another maid brought a box from the bed, the group of them squealing at how pretty the emerald net gloves were and you shut your eyes, annoyed, but you couldn’t help laughing along with them.

“You lot can have them if you like them so much.”

“Oh no, we wouldn’t,” the youngest of the three said. “But… maybe after the party, Your Majesty?”

You pretended to think and then nodded and they jumped up and down. You gaped at them. “Who assigned you little birds to help me get ready tonight?”

“We’re in training and we’re the best in the class,” the one who seemed to be the oldest said. “The Head Maid expects good results and we shall deliver.”

“We’ve always wanted to get you ready, and what better day than your anniversary party?”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the mirror. Your anniversary party. What mockery. You checked your curls one last time- the girls had done a pretty good job, actually. Your hair fell in elegant curls by the sides, half pinned up. They kept the makeup quite natural and you liked that. The dress- a ‘gift’ from the King, but really, you knew that he had probably asked one of his designers to do something about it. The dress was beautiful. It was sleek and fell to your feet with a slit in the leg. Everything about you tonight screamed elegant.

You wished you felt as good as you looked.

You wore the gloves, completing the look and admired yourself in the mirror. The sleeves also hung along with the dress though there was a slit for your hands so they wouldn’t get in the way. You had matching heels as well.

“So pretty,” one of them wiped a tear. “Shall we go now?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. You reminded yourself to stay low but keep your back straight. You had nothing to be afraid of.

You started hearing the music as soon as you left your chamber. There were decorations everywhere in black and emerald colours. You subconsciously touched the emerald earrings you were wearing- even though you wanted to throw these beauties away, you had to wear them and flaunt them at the event tonight. You had to let everyone know that your ‘loving’ husband got them as a gift for you. 

Tonight was truly going to be all about your patience, and you could not snap.

You entered the ballroom as the maids announced your arrival and joined the King who was waiting for you next to the Prince of Wonderland in a corner. You bowed to the Prince who bowed back.

“I must congratulate you on your anniversary, first,” he began. “Time flies. My wife has sent some gifts for you.”

“Please send her my regards,” you smiled. “I hope she can make it here next time.”

The Prince laughed at that and the King pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’m going to announce your arrival now.”

You nodded and the King signalled the musicians to stop. As hundreds of eyes trained on you, you stood tall, the King’s hand resting on your back a reminder. He took a deep breath.

“Thank you all for making it tonight. Please join me in warmly welcoming the arrival of the star of tonight’s event- esteemed ruler and wife, the Queen!”

Everyone applauded and you bowed once to them with a smile. Next, the King nodded and said, “I must also welcome the guest of honour- the Prince of Wonderland. I hope you make him feel at home during his stay.”

The Prince bowed and applause filled the room again. The King cued the musicians and everyone went back to what they were doing.

“You can go socialise and join us for dinner, okay?” The King said and you nodded, spotting San in the crowd who was making his way to you-

Looking absolutely breathtaking in a black suit with his hair slicked back, tendrils falling onto his forehead.

“Your Majesty,” he bowed and you acknowledged him, both of you scanning each other for a good moment. “Do you want me to get you anything?”

“I was just leaving,” you told him, glancing towards the King who seemed to be listening in to your conversation. San nodded and passed you to go to the King and whisper something in his ear. You stood inhaling the woody scent of whatever cologne he was wearing before urging yourself to move. 

Dinner time approached rather quickly- there were too many people stopping by to chat with you- officials and royals from around the continent- and you didn’t have one moment to breathe. You were relieved when they announced that everyone should move to the Great Hall for dinner. You joined the King who seemed to be too involved in his discussion with the Prince to offer you an arm an accompany you-

“Shall I escort you?” San offered and you stifled a smile, noticing the hint of mischievousness in his eyes.

“Why not?” You put a hand on his outstretched arm. The King spared a glance and nodded and you finally relaxed- it wasn’t unusual for San to accompany you at such times. However…

This time it was different.

Everything had been different from a few nights ago when you both almost… you didn’t dare to think of it. After the King interrupted that moment, you were both relieved and disappointed. Relieved because you were the King’s wife, the Queen and you shouldn’t have tried anything like that. 

And disappointed because you wished you had gotten a taste of his lips.

“Tired?” San asked in a low voice, making you blink. 

“A little,” you admitted. “Everything okay at your side?”

“Yep,” he replied and you nodded, walking in silence the rest of the way until you reached the hall. You sat on one side of the King, the Prince on the other side in front of you. Dinner was served and you chatted with the female envoy from Wonderland at your left.

“I must say, you look quite breathtaking, Your Majesty,” the Prince called, winking at the King. “Looks like your husband is taking care of you.”

You stilled for the slightest moment. You weren’t sure if the Prince’s comment was intentional. You looked at the King and made yourself relax. “Definitely.”

“And you look lovely in Wonderland’s colour,” he commented further, stuffing his mouth with food as he scanned you.

“Ah, the emerald was my idea. These,” you pointed at your earrings, “were a gift from my husband. I decided the occasion called for it.”

“She loves her emeralds,” the King chuckled. “Don’t seem too flattered, though, Prince. All this emerald decor is to match with my wife, not to welcome you.”

“I wouldn’t dare assume,” the Prince laughed and you grimaced at how chummy the two were. “Though, now that we’re talking about it, with how good our dealings have been going recently, you could have easily fooled me into believing that tonight was all about me.”

“Ah,” the King shifted in his seat. “The emeralds are older than the deal though.”

The three of you chuckled at that- you knew they weren’t. You recalled what the King had said about sucking it up to the Prince and you decided now was the right moment. “Maybe the emeralds were intentional- my husband has been very eager with the deal.”

The King nodded in approval and the Prince said, “Well, I’m quite fond of how things have turned out too. But I did have a thought that you might entertain, Your Majesty, if I may?”

You frowned in confusion, glancing at your husband who looked as confused. “Sure, by all means.”

“Would it be too bad if Utopia sided with us on this one?” The Prince wiped his face. “It wouldn’t be too bad to have a third nation with us- of course, Wonderland will offer something in return.”

“I… I’ll put a word for you but I’m not the Queen of Utopia, I’m only the Princess,” you told him, faking a smile. “It might be a bit tough given how things turned out the last time.”

“Technical difficulties, I believe,” the Prince coughed- he was all too familiar with how Wonderland had turned its back on Utopia. “Things have changed now, haven’t they?”

“I couldn’t be the judge of that,” you sipped your wine and when the King sent a warning glare in your direction, you cleared your throat. “But I will send word.”

“Fair enough,” the Prince scoffed at that and you knew from the shift in the air that your words had pulled some string that shouldn’t have been pulled. Maybe the King had gone ahead and promised Utopia’s cooperation on his own.

You found that out soon enough.

After dinner and a speech from the King, the party concluded and you farewelled the guests before you accompanied the King back to your chambers. The Prince parted ways for the night and you found yourself alone with your husband, a deadly silence as you walked arm in arm to your rooms with guards behind you. The King motioned the guards to stop a good distance behind-

And you knew tonight wasn’t going to end well.

As soon as you entered the chamber and the King looked around, he started invading your space until you were cornered. 

“Did you have to sound like such a Utopian?”

You shut your eyes, not believing what you were hearing. “Don’t tell me you promised things to him without my knowledge.”

“And what if I did?” He challenged. “Your job is to convince back home that when the time comes, they will supply us with the funds for the army.”

“If you believe I have a say in that?” You scoffed. “You’re wrong-”

You weren’t sure if the sound of his palm meeting your cheek registered first or the pain but you staggered, almost landing on the floor. You shut your eyes in disbelief at how quickly your husband snapped and then you were further humbled when he knelt down and grabbed you by the jaw, glaring at you.

“If only you didn’t run that mouth of yours so much,” he spat. “I wouldn’t have to resort to this-”

“You would have anyway,” you challenged. “You’re a sorry excuse of a man.”

You watched the King’s mouth part in surprise- this was the first time you had verbally retaliated. He got up with a scoff, pacing the room for a few seconds while you gathered yourself, about to go to your room and maybe shut the door on his face-

“You know,” the King blocked your path, stepping in front of you. “I wonder why there’s this fire in your eyes. Have you been doing something behind my back?”

“Have you considered…” you took a deep breath, trying not to raise your voice, “for one moment that maybe, just maybe I am done being treated like a ragdoll?”

“A ragdoll?” The King laughed mockingly, poking his fingers against your sternum, pushing you in the process. “What did you say? Did you ever consider, Your Majesty,” he pushed again, making you stifle a groan. “That you have been misbehaving?”

“And what did I do?” You almost whispered. “I stated facts. Utopia won’t play along with your stupid plans. I saved you the trouble, Your Highness-”

This time, he pushed you properly, slamming you against the wall in the process. “Utopia will bend. I will make sure of it. But first, I have to make you bend to my will.”

You knew that nothing you said now would get through him. His eyes went blank as he pushed you to the ground and kicked at your legs, walking around the room while you clutched at your leg- he was always cruel enough to give you time to recover before he carried on. He picked some box from the mantel and threw it in your direction, the metal meeting the flesh on your arm and you were glad it was only the arm because it hurt like hell. And then you were being picked up and he assessed you once, slowly, before pushing you harshly, making you knock against the shelf and shatter a vase in the process, the shard of which buried in your forearm painfully-

And you stopped breathing when you spotted a shadow move in your room.

It was San, and he looked angry. 

And he was clutching a dagger in his fist.

You couldn’t feel the pain anymore- instead, fear overtook you- you made sure not to look at him again but you shook your head furiously, willing him, begging him to stay in the dark but somehow, you knew he couldn’t stand the sight of it and would interrupt-

So you did the only thing you could think of. You clutched a shard in your hand and when the King stood to strike you again, you met it with the shard which lodged in his fist.

“That is enough, Your Highness, please,” you begged. “Come to your senses-”

“You bitch,” he groaned, clutching at his wrist and it looked like the pain finally made him acknowledge the mess he had created. He stood conflicted, raising his hands to strike you again but then clutching his bleeding wrist.

“Please, go away and get it treated,” you begged. “Say that you fell or something, that it was dark, just please, go away,” you cried and the King shot you a warning look before cursing more under his breath and promising he would have a talk with you soon. Then he turned and left the chamber.

And you found yourself finally relaxing enough to sink to the floor and sob because you had almost ruined everything you had worked for. You had almost ruined your plan. You had risked San’s life in the process. You had made everything worse-

But you fought back this time. Maybe, just maybe… the King would come to his senses or at least this madness would stop.

You wiped your face, taking off your net gloves and letting out a short laugh when you saw they had ripped- your maids would be pissed. You tossed them away and slumped against the wall, the shards still around you.

And then you spotted the shadow move again- but he didn’t dare take one step towards you.

“It’s okay to come out now, you know.”

San sighed deeply- he wished he could disappear in the shadows. He didn’t realise how angry, absolutely furious he could be until this moment. He could have slit the King’s throat right there- not only because he was the King and you were the Queen, but… no woman deserved to be treated like that, to be shoved like she weighed nothing. He stood clenching his fists, wondering if he should have done it, if he could have protected you-

“I might start to think I’m hallucinating if you don’t step out now,” he heard you call and he looked up, watching you pick the shard out of your arm and whistling at the pain.

And that finally prompted him to move and step into the dim light of the main room. He went towards where you kept your medical kit and then he settled down next to you, not meeting your eyes but putting pressure on your wound with a handkerchief and then inspecting it a few moments later, relieved it only needed a bandage. You watched him expertly tie a bandage around your arm and then he rolled your sleeves up to inspect for more damage-

“Why won’t you look at me?” You whispered.

He sighed deeply, gulping as he gathered his courage and tried subduing his anger, but one look at your tear-stained face and messy hair and the absolutely vulnerable eyes, and something in him broke again.

“What kind of a man am I if I can’t protect you?”

“San-”

“I know why you stopped me. I know I promised not to interfere and I know I almost killed that bastard, but y/n,” his brows furrowed as he brought his hand to your face, cupping it and then almost losing it when you shut your eyes and leaned into his touch. “I failed you.”

“No, you didn’t,” you locked your gaze with his. “You saved me tonight. I have never fought back once, but tonight… you saved me, San.”

San wasn’t sure how many times you were going to break his heart and then piece it together tonight. And despite walking on eggshells around you for the past few days ever since he almost crossed the boundary with you, he decided he would heal himself tonight. 

He decided to finish what you couldn’t last time, and he leaned in to lock his lips with yours.

A million thoughts ran through his head- but being the King’s Right Hand and kissing his wife, the Queen, was the least of his worries right now. He didn’t care if he would get executed for this, but… what if you only thought of him as a servant? What if the last time had only been in the spur of the moment-

He broke apart when he felt his thumb getting wet from your tears and he truly wondered if he had made a mistake, but…

You were smiling. You leaned forward, on your knees, and met his lips again and this time, he kissed you properly, his lips moving with yours and his hands holding you carefully, aware that you must be in pain and hurting-

But that wasn’t enough for you. You broke apart again, a newfound strength in you. Your breath hitched as you took in his features now that you were so close to him. You held his face in your hands, crawling in his lap and towering over him, joining your foreheads.

“Don’t hold me like I’ll break,” you warned him. “I want you to kiss me harder. Kiss me like you mean it.”

And that was all the confirmation San needed- his grip on your waist tightened considerably and he kissed you like he was hungry for it. And he didn’t bother staying silent- he groaned into the kiss loud enough to drive you a little insane and you responded with equal enthusiasm, melting into the kiss with each passing second. You locked your arms around his neck and as soon as he swiped his tongue across your lips, you opened your mouth and granted him access, your kisses turning more passionate. Soon, he had you bending and placed you on the floor gently, hovering above you and breaking apart to look at you, a faint smile on his lips.

“We shouldn’t be doing this… Your Majesty,” he whispered, kissing your temple and trailing his lips down your cheek.

“We really shouldn’t,” you pouted, unbuttoning his coat so he could take it off and he tossed it to the side. “But do I really look like I care right now?”

He chuckled, going back to kissing your jaw, trailing his lips down on your neck. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Not longer than me,” you assured, squirming under him when his lips tickled your sweet spot. “You were somehow always the only person I wanted to be touched by.”

San groaned at that, looking at you. “If you say things like that, y/n, god help me-”

You leaned up to capture his lips in a kiss, effectively shutting him up, your fingers working to unbutton his shirt as you messily kissed, one hand guiding your face along while the other traced your curves. You wanted nothing more than to be skin on skin and perhaps he felt that- perhaps, he knew how much you craved this, longed for this. His shirt fell open and you admired the plane of his toned chest and body, running your hands across it. San caressed your face lovingly, kissing your forehead and lingering there.

“Stop thinking whatever you are,” you muttered, leaning forward. “Just do something.”

San looked at you as if asking for confirmation- he couldn’t quite believe this was really happening. His gaze fell to the bandage on your arm and he locked your hands, kissing your wrist. He rolled the sleeve up, wincing at the red bruise from the box the King had thrown at you.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not really,” you told him. It was the truth- it didn’t hurt right now. You couldn’t feel any sort of pain right now, actually, save for the ache in your heart. You could only feel desire coursing through every vein in your body. San trailed kisses up your arm, looking at you for permission as his hand snaked up your back and you gladly gave him access to slide your dress down and he took his sweet time, taking in every inch of your skin, every piece of yourself you had to offer to him. The dress pooled around your hips, leaving you in a black bralette. San kissed your lips enthusiastically before trailing kisses down again, this time aiming to kiss every bruise and faint mark on your body. 

You lay on your back, your hands running through his hair, your heart overwhelmed at how he still held and touched you like you could break. You wanted to tell him that you had already broken and he was healing you. You loved the feather kisses he dropped on your skin and you appreciated that he was taking his time with you. After he was done, he kissed you for a long time, simply moving his lips along yours. The exhaustion was starting to catch up now.

“Can we take this to bed?” You asked and he chuckled at that, nodding and helping you up but you almost stumbled due to the sudden blood rush. He caught you in his arms, helping you to your room. You took off your dress, now in your undergarments and he looked up. You smacked his arm before changing into your nightgown and then tapped his arm so he could relax and found him flustered.

“For someone who kissed like it was the last time, you sure are shy now,” you commented, going to the dresser and beginning to take all the clips out of your hair. San came to stand behind you, helping you and then playing with the curls in your hair. He caught you looking at him and he smiled sadly.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

“For what?” You turned to him and he tucked your hair back. 

“For everything,” he sighed. “That is the last time that man touches you, okay? I won’t let it happen again. I swear on my life-”

“San-”

“No,” he shook his head, adamant. “I don’t care about anything- I won’t let him touch a hair on your body.”

You pursed your lips, feeling overwhelmed and he was quick to embrace you. You wrapped your arms around his back, letting him caress your hair and guide you both to the bed. Settling down, he drew the covers over the two of you after shrugging off his shirt.

“I’ll leave before the sun rises, is that okay?” He asked.

“I’d rather have you like this forever,” you buried your face in his chest, tangling your limbs together and his body shook as he laughed.

“Of course you would,” he tsk-ed. “Do you like me that much?”

“I do,” you weren’t going to lie. “What about it?”

He kissed the top of your head. “Well… the sentiments are returned.”

“Glad to hear,” you snuggled into him. “Kiss me to sleep.”

—--------------------------------

The night of the party had gone incredibly wrong- you physically injured the King. It had been three days and he hadn’t seen you since-

Which wasn’t too bad. You figured the King must have been ashamed for once because you finally fought back and made it clear that he had no control over you. You recalled over and over again what he had said that night-

“Utopia will bend. I will make sure of it. But first, I have to make you bend to my will.”

You had a solid plan in your head now- you were going to make sure the King’s plans would be exposed and go after the Prince of Wonderland first by contacting your spies. It was going to work. You didn’t know what you were going to do after that, but for now… you had to do something.

Because now, you had hope. You knew that having hope was dangerous especially at a time like this. You did not know how the future would play out from here, but you couldn’t help feeling like a silly little girl with hope as you drew the curtains away from the window and smiled at the bright sun.

And it didn’t help that San was making sure he treated you like the way you were meant to be. 

You weren’t afraid to lock the main door of your chamber anymore after night time. After what the King had done to you, you could use the excuse of being scared of him (you genuinely were) in case he ever came here without notice. The King wasn’t visiting your chamber anymore, instead sending maids to do what needed to be done.

Good riddance, you thought. He should be ashamed.

And then at night time when you sent the maids away, you would lock the doors and wait for San. And no matter how late it got, San always came. He would knock on the door in your room and you would be quick to open it. He would embrace you as soon as he saw you. Sometimes you would talk first, or sometimes, you would get right into it and kiss each other. With each passing day and the anxiety that came with carrying this plan that could very well end up with you both being tried in court for treason, you two found comfort in each other. Your wishes to not be apart for one moment during the night grew more intense.

You would sit in his arms on the bed or on the couch in the living room as you talked. You would tell each other how your day went and other casual stuff. It was just you and San without the titles. He would caress your hair as you talked. You would play with his fingers or trace patterns on his arms as he held you. One of you would give in first and kiss the other. Sometimes, it was soft and continued for hours- just kissing and chatting, laughing as you talked in hushed voices as if afraid they could be carried out by the air. 

But sometimes… It felt like San intended to break you apart. Sometimes his hands would consciously or unconsciously touch some bare skin on your legs as you cuddled which earned him a short gasp. Sometimes, he would let it go and wait for you, but sometimes, he would test the waters and trace his fingers up, up and up. Maybe you would slap his arm and giggle. More often than not, though, you would bare more skin for him. You wanted to be touched everywhere, and you had made it clear.

And he hadn’t disappointed.

You had a long day today and were just finishing responding to the last letter when you heard the familiar knocks on the escape door. You smiled to yourself, sealing the letter within an envelope and going into your room to open the door.

“You’re early tonight,” you said as a greeting and San kissed your forehead as he stepped inside.

“His Highness is in a sour mood today so he went out for drinks with the Earl,” he told you and you shrugged.

“Wonder what’s got him so sour lately,” you started towards the living room.

“Maybe the wound on his hand refuses to heal,” San chuckled. “You have no idea how hard it is to hold back a smirk everytime I see him wince in pain.”

“Satisfying, isn’t it?” You grinned and you both sat next to each other in the living room. “Did you receive a response yet?”

You were referring to the letter you had sent to who you expected was the only person in the Prince of Wonderland’s court with some sense of what was right and wrong. The only person who wasn’t power hungry- a past advisor of your father as well. 

“I did,” San took out a letter from the folds of his dark kimono and you opened it, reading the contents and smiling in satisfaction.

“I knew the court of the Prince didn’t align with his views, but I didn’t realise they would be this eager to do something about it,” you looked at San. “I always knew Lord Jeong hated his job as a court member in Wonderland. This is… interesting.”

San sighed in relief. “I’m surprised he agreed, actually. I know he’s wiser than the rest of the members who seem to have nothing up here,” San tapped his head, “but I didn’t think he would agree so easily. If he gets caught, he will be executed.”

“And so will we,” you looked at San pointedly. “Lord Jeong must have realised that we’re risking a lot too. Some people… they are inherently good, San. Like you. Like Lord Jeong. They always side with justice, and there’s nothing just about what Wonderland and Eden are planning to do with the annexations.”

San nodded slowly at that. “Sometimes, I wonder what went wrong with the King. I thought he was a very respectable leader. I don’t understand when and why his hunger to grab more and more began.”

He had talked about it once with you. You shifted towards him, caressing his arm. “Were you ever… on friendly terms?”

“Not really, he’s always kept a distance from the court members, and I wouldn’t call what we had ‘friendship’,” he said, “But he still shares almost everything he plans with me. Yes, I’m his Right Hand, but he almost expects me to play along. Maybe he is testing me and will find out I’m doing something behind his back. Maybe he won’t because nothing has changed between us, really. I’m trying to act normal when I’m with him but everytime I see him with a smug face as he and the other court members disrespect the women in court or their wives… I want to scratch that smugness off his face.”

You chuckled at that. “You’re just too good for this world, San. And honestly it’s a goddamned miracle that I found you.”

San looked surprised to hear that and you laughed again. “What?”

“You talk as if you weren’t going to expose, maybe even overthrow the King all by yourself,” San leaned forward to peck your lips. “I don’t think my presence has changed much.”

“You have no idea how much your presence has changed things,” you wished he could look at himself from your eyes. “I’m pretty sure I would have done something horrible to the King- or myself- if I didn’t know you had my back.” 

San pursed his lips in thought as he watched you shuffle closer so you could hide your face in the crook of his neck. You breathed in his scent, memorising it before you drew away to look at him.

“Will you stick with me after all of this? No matter where I end up? You don’t have to say yes-”

“Of course I will,” San cupped your face in his hands, his heart aching at the way you sounded so small while asking that question. “There’s no place I’d rather be than with you. I intend to follow you wherever you go… if I have your permission.”

You took his hands away from your face, making his heart sink in fear, only for you to curl your fingers around them as you leaned forward settling yourself in his lap, his hands pinned to the couch and your lips inches away from his. You scanned his face, feeling some strange satisfaction to see his eyes wide and lips parted in surprise.

“Wherever I go?” You whispered, leaning in so your lips caressed his and then drawing away. “Don’t tell me you want me, Lord Choi.”

San scoffed- scoffed at that. “Didn’t I tell you? You’ll always be my queen.”

You recalled when San had told you that- the first time before he hugged you. You tightened your grip on his hands and locked your lips with his, his response eager. Your legs were on either side of him and you propped yourself a bit closer as you kissed him and he sighed when you rolled your hips on his lap experimentally.

“You do know what you’re doing, don’t you, Your Majesty?” San whispered as he broke apart, immediately trailing kisses down your neck- he had held on for too long. The nightgown you wore tonight didn’t cover much.

“Oh, this?” You rolled your hips again, feeling the telltale signs of a bulge even through layers of clothes. “I think I do, Lord Choi.”

“And you do know,” San sucked at your sweet spot, careful not to leave a mark on your neck and moving his lips elsewhere immediately. “You do know that I find it very hard to hold myself back when it comes to you, don’t you?”

“Who said I want you to hold back?” You drew your hands away, placing them on his shoulders now. “Maybe I don’t want you to hold back tonight.”

San stopped trailing kisses on your skin and looked up at you- oh, he wanted nothing more than to have you in every possible way, but you were the queen. He already thought he was crossing a lot of boundaries and sometimes found himself thinking if maybe you’d regret this someday-

“Do you want me, San?” You asked. “Please, be honest. Do you want me?”

“I thought you knew,” San’s brows furrowed in concentration as he scanned your face for any hints of hesitation. “I thought it was obvious how much I wanted you. But are you sure you won’t regret any of this-”

“I won’t,” you assured him, cupping his face. “I would be honoured to have you, Choi San.”

San laughed in shock and disbelief. “I should be the one saying that- you’re literally the queen of two kingdoms-”

“And who cares about that?” You interrupted, tucking his hair away from his face as you said, “I’m lucky to be here right now, with you. I feel like you deserve someone better, not a woman who’s already married and is a sorry excuse of a-”

“A contract marriage,” San’s grip on your waist tightened. “And even if everything else was okay, I’m lucky to be the man who makes you happy. And I’m sorry the King never did that for you.”

“I told you to stop apologising for the King,” you pouted. 

“Only when you stop thinking of yourself as unworthy,” San wasn’t having any of your excuses. “You’re worthy of love, and if I can make you happy… then I don’t need anything else. So I’ll ask again… do you want me? Despite everything? Despite what the future may hold?”

“I do,” you said, never so sure about anything until now. “I’ve wanted you for so, so long.”

San’s lip curved into a smirk at that. “Now… that’s new.”

“Really?” You rolled your hips for good measure again and this time, San’s hands started trailing down your legs. “I thought it was obvious.”

“I thought that was just how you were,” San leaned in to kiss your jaw. “I just didn’t think you only looked at me that way.”

“Pretty sure you never saw me looking at the King that way,” you muttered and he laughed, tracing patterns on your skin as he started baring your thighs. 

“Ah? And did you fantasise about being touched by me? Before everything?”

“Maybe I did,” you kissed his lips. “You’re kind of hot. It’s hard not to, especially when no one around you cares enough.”

“And do you fantasise about every other ‘hot’ person in your court?” San tsk-ed at that. “Did you have someone like this back home too?”

You laughed deeply at that, amused by the way San was leading the conversation, but you intended to make him sure by the end of the night that he was the only one for you. “Never. Never in my wildest dreams. And I’m not that dirty, Choi San. I didn’t fantasise about this- oh.”

Your words became lost when San trailed his hands up your thighs, spreading you more for him and then bringing his hands back down. He was teasing you. He always did before he touched you.

“So what exactly went on in your head when you saw me?” San had a shit-eating grin on his face and you were tempted to wipe it off with a kiss. 

“Oh, just how you seemed like a nice person,” you shrugged, grinning when he shook his head. “Come on, you know. If you hadn’t thought about me a little too, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

“I just thought you made a nice queen,” San shrugged just like you, tracing his hands back up. “Never did I think I would have the privilege to touch you.”

And then he traced a finger up your panties, finding them hot and wet, earning a gasp from you. “Already? I thought you-”

You didn’t let him finish as you smashed your lips against his and he immediately melted into the kiss, one hand trailing back to your waist while the other played around your thigh, more focused on making out with you. While your tongues battled for dominance, he took the chance and hooked his thumb in the waistband of your panties, bringing it down a bit. You weren’t even breaking apart for air, the kisses getting more passionate and when he finally slid one finger between the garment and over your wet folds, you gasped into the kiss.

“So wet for me,” he tsk-ed again. “Always so ready for me.”

“Shut up,” you told him, making him chuckle. You found it harder to keep yourself propped on his lap without sinking back and San seemed to understand, perhaps with the way your thighs trembled with every movement of his finger between your wet folds. He had done this once now, so he knew how submissive you were at times like this. He just liked the idea of making you wait until you were antsy enough before he finally slid his fingers inside you.

And right now… he needed to rile you up just a tad bit more. So foregoing any rationality, he muttered ‘you better be good at makeup’ before going right back to your neck and attacking it with kisses and nibbles and letting his fingers trace your clit, making you squirm within his grasp with the overload of sensations. Your hands gripped at his shoulders, working your hips along to his movements and when he finally dipped one finger inside of you, you sighed in relief, immediately riding his finger-

“Not so quick, Your Majesty,” he warned. You could swear his calling you with your title undid something in you- especially when in a position like this. You let him take control and he slid another finger inside you, his thumb on your clit drawing circles and relaxing you as he slowly paced his digits inside your walls. 

“That feel good?” He asked and you nodded, barely able to speak. You looked at him before sliding his kimono down his shoulders and then you ran your hands over his chest, gripping his shoulders before rolling your hips on his fingers.

“San, please,” you muttered against his lips, locking them with yours as if you could convince him to make you come with a kiss alone.

San broke apart, his eyes focused on your lips as his fingers changed their pace inside you and his thumb started rubbing your clit with more pressure. “Please what?”

“I’m so close,” you almost begged, your whines only fueling him. “You know what to do.”

He did. He pressed his thumb against your clit and curled his fingers inside you and you buried your face and your moans against his neck as you trembled all over, your hips bucking against his fingers.

But this time, San immediately pushed you back so you lay flat on the couch and instead of reaching for something to wipe you with, he looked at you.

“Can I clean you up, Your Majesty?”

“Oh, goodness, yes,” you sighed delightfully and he grinned, sliding your panties off you and immediately latching his lips to your core, the sensation alone making your back arch. San gripped your thighs though, effectively pinning you down and spreading you apart so he could have full access. And he wasn’t silent at all. The lewd sound of his tongue diving in and out of you, slurping in everything was driving you to yet another high. 

You ached to squeeze your thighs shut but his restraint was sure so you clenched at his hair, only making him go harder on you. His nose brushing against your already sensitive clit made you moan loudly into the pillow and you couldn’t even form two sentences to beg him to do something, anything. One look at his glistening lips and nose as he glanced at you and you were already almost there. All it took was him licking up a stripe and then sucking at your clit and you were shaking uncontrollably again as another wave of orgasm hit you, the most intense thing you had ever experienced. 

San eagerly helped you through it and when he wiped his face with his sleeves, you felt a fresh wave of arousal as he looked at you, his kimono hanging by his hips, his eyes hungry. And you may have asked him to let you please him too but he was already leaning in to kiss you and this time, he drove his tongue inside you on purpose, making you taste yourself on him.

“God, you’re amazing,” he breathed against your lips. 

“Shall we take this to bed?” You whispered and he nodded, about to get up but you pulled his hand. 

“Please take that thing off first,” you laughed, pointing at his clothes.

“Oh? What do you intend to do to me?” He smirked.

“I told you that I want you,” you said and his eyes darkened. He licked his lips in contemplation before he picked you up and you realised then how spent you were, yet so eager to have him where you wanted him the most.

He lay you down on the bed and took off his clothes, now in his sole piece of undergarment, leaving nothing to imagination. You stared shamelessly while catching your breath and he scoffed. “Can I take that off too?” 

“Oh?” You looked down at your nightgown. “By all means.”

You watched San draw closer to you, the glow of the candles by your bedside casting beautiful shadows on his face. He started unbuttoning your gown and you helped him to take it off. And just like always, San sucked in a breath at the sight of you as if this was his first time seeing you bare yourself to him- this time was different. You had never been this bare in front of him. He traced his hands along your curves, taking his time as he peppered kisses at random spots. All the while, your hands remained in his hair, caressing his head softly and you beckoned him to come closer so you could kiss him. 

As you moved your lips against his softly, his hand came to rest on your waist, the other guiding you along. You started shifting so he lay on his side and he brought you closer, making you rest one leg on top of him and you didn’t know if it was intentional but when your core met his bulge, now separated by only a single layer, you moaned into the kiss as you deepened it.

You let your hand travel down, making him grin into the kiss. You traced his toned muscles until you reached his abdomen. As he kissed you with more intensity, you palmed his length, finding him rock hard. You broke apart and looked at him for permission and when he subtly nodded, you looked down between your bodies and began to slide your hand under his clothes-

“Wait,” he breathed, taking off his underwear in a single motion, his hard length springing up in full glory, swollen and leaking. You licked your lips at the sight, watching him prop himself against the bed and bringing you on top of him, wedging his length between your folds so you could rock against him as he captured your lips once again. This time, you opened your mouth and his tongue dove right in, exploring your mouth while he rocked you against his length. You gasped when the head of his cock rubbed against your entrance and you simply couldn’t take it any longer.

“San,” you breathed, drawing his hair away from his flushed face. “Please.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?” He asked, wanting nothing more than to drive his cock inside you and wreck you.

“I… I’ve been taking contraceptives in case the King tried anything,” you admitted. His features contorted in anger and you shushed him, peppering kisses all over his face. “I want you to be the first.”

“The first?” He asked and you nodded again. He suspected it but now that he had a confirmation... “I shouldn’t-”

“You can, if you want to,” you told him, kissing his lips. “I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else. Only if you want to.”

“I want to, I want to so bad,” he shifted your positions, making you lay down on your back and it was like he suddenly found a new purpose. His demeanour changed and he started trailing kisses all over your body. “Just relax then. Tonight is all about you.”

You obeyed though you were pretty sure you sounded impatient. San fondled with your breasts, peppering kisses along them and then down to your stomach. He looked at you again, trying to spot any signs of hesitance but you looked so sure that he couldn’t help it. 

“Are you ready?” He asked and you nodded, bracing yourself when he rubbed his cock against your folds. He laughed a little at that, kissing your temple and whispering, “Relax and breathe.” Then he started sinking his cock inside you and you felt a little sting as he entered, slowly but surely. All the while, he cooed praises into your ears, caressing your waist and asking if you felt okay. He wasn’t sure how long he would last because you felt so tight against him, but he would hold on for you.

“How does it feel?”

“Full,” you laughed, finally relaxing when you felt him bottom out. He grinned at that. “I think you can move now.”

“You think?” He teased. “For someone who’s never done this before, you sure acted like a pro.”

“I may have read some fiction to entertain myself in this boring dungeon…” you admitted and he laughed. He rolled his hips experimentally and you sucked in a breath at the sensation, wondering how it could feel so good. Slowly, he set a pace comfortable enough for both of you while he kissed your sweet spot, sucking a mark into it.

“You might want to hide that in the morning,” he kissed the spot.

“Well, I’ve been hiding marks for far too long now,” you scoffed. “But how would you hide them if I gave you one?”

“I wouldn’t hide it,” San mumbled against your lips, pecking them. “I’d show it off proudly.”

You smacked his arm and he grinned, his gaze going hard as he slammed his cock inside you once, earning a loud moan. “You like that?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Again. Harder.”

And just like that, something in San broke. He quickened his pace, making sure to hit that one spot every time he drove his cock inside you after almost sliding out. The sounds of your pants and your bodies slamming against each other filled the air now that your highs were approaching. The kisses got messier, and when his hand rested on your neck, your walls clenched, making him groan loudly. He held your face in one hand, pulling one leg up so he was unbelievably close to you as he slammed his cock inside again.

You could only call his name in warning as your walls clenched and you trembled like nothing before, the orgasm rushing through you and making you limbless, barely able to breathe. The sensation of your walls clenching and unclenching did it for him too, but just as he was about to slide out of you, you wrapped your legs around him and pushed him back inside, making him drop his body on yours as his own orgasm washed over him and you couldn’t have asked for anything more- the feeling of his warm cum coating your walls was enough to send you into heaven. He laughed in disbelief, burying his face in the crook of your neck, letting you rock your bodies together until you were satisfied. 

“You’re unbelievable,” he kissed your temple, loving the feeling of your bodies wrapped around each other. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You only smiled, pushing your intertwined limbs so you were half on top of him. “I’m gonna sleep just like this tonight.”

“I’ll bust a nut in a few minutes if you keep me like this,” San muttered and you laughed.

“I wouldn’t mind a second round.”

“Shh,” San smacked your arm playfully. “Let me clean you up. You don’t want the maids to find you in this state.”

“True,” you pouted. “But they will probably be able to smell the love in the air.”

“Try not to make it obvious,” he laughed and you decided to stay like that just a little longer.

 —---------------------------

The King finally came to your chamber after a week. You weren’t sure if he wanted to, more like he had to because it looked like he finally needed you again.

He apologised whenever he needed something from you, it had always been like this. You were just waiting for him to stop making small talk and get to the point.

He walked with his hands crossed behind his back, examining the living room, the maids long gone giving you two some privacy. You thought he looked funny walking like that- as if he was coming here for the first time. You put two sugars in his cup of tea as he preferred and when you started to stir it, he finally sat down in front of you.

“I went to town a couple of days ago and came across Lord Han. He inquired about your health.”

“And did he look okay?” You sipped your tea. “I remember he complained a lot about his joints the last time we met.”

“He seemed fine,” your husband responded, shrugging.

“And what about you? Your hand… is it okay?” You finally asked now that the small bandage was in your sight.

“Yeah, it was only a small cut, nothing much,” he coughed awkwardly. “I… I’m sorry for that night. I shouldn’t have gone so far.”

“You shouldn’t have,” you nodded. “You shouldn’t have begun. You know I don’t have much influence in Utopia. I only told the Prince the truth. You must have promised him Utopia’s support, isn’t that the case?”

When he didn’t respond, only clenching his jaw as if holding back a remark, you said softly, “If you had told me about the deal earlier, I would have tried to pull some strings. Now you’re halfway there and want to add Utopia in this deal because Eden and Wonderland are lacking funds. It’s clear as day that you’re only using them- and I’m not saying this as a Utopian. You’re smart- you clearly realise that too.”

“Well… can you do something now? I really don’t want to cancel this deal,” he sighed. 

“Do you ever wonder if you’re biting off more than you can chew? Not with Utopia… with Wonderland and all these plans about annexing islands that your family helped gain independence?” 

“They didn’t know any better,” the King wasn’t buying it. “When my grandfather made it happen, he didn’t realise that we were giving away the resources that once helped our kingdom become steady and stand on its feet.”

“But… despite how you have been with me as a husband,” you said and he raised a brow, “I still believe you’re a good ruler. You’ve always been fair, and this deal is anything but fair. I don’t know what else the Prince of Wonderland has promised you, but will you at least reconsider? Do you not care for the destruction that will ensue from this deal?”

For a second, for a good second, you thought his eyes softened and he actually reconsidered. And for that second, you were ready to redact your plan to destroy him. You would have forgiven him and asked for a divorce, plain and simple. But when his gaze hardened, you felt your heart shatter- he was beyond help.

And his words only proved it.

“Who’s backing you? Huh? Trying a new tactic to make me give in? Or have you already corresponded back home and plan to side against us?”

You shut your eyes as you exhaled deeply. “You know what? Fine. I’ll write a letter in front of you. In fact, you can write it yourself and send it to Utopia. No one is backing me. And I hope you find yourself in a situation where no one backs you either, and you get a taste of what that feels like,” you got up after nearly slamming the cup on the table. “Your parents, your grandparents… everything they worked for, you’ll be undoing it. They’ll be ashamed of you.”

Before the King could retort in any way, physical or verbal, you decided to leave the chamber itself- staying in here wouldn’t help you in any way. He would either spend the rest of the evening cursing you or trying to get you to bend and you couldn’t have that. You raised a hand in dismissal when a guard tried following you- a clear sign to be left alone. 

You descended the stairs, the maids and servants bowing when you crossed their path. You had never explored too much of the castle and you only knew the way to the halls and the kitchens. You walked without a direction in your head, wanting to get lost-

And a sharp turn later, you almost bumped into a figure, gentle hands bracing your figure, a touch that you recognised immediately-

“San,” you breathed and he scanned you in surprise. 

“Are you okay? What’s the matter?”

“I was just… taking a walk,” you looked back, nobody in sight. “Where are you headed?”

“I had an errand to run,” he waved the documents in his hands. “But what is the Queen really doing here?”

You sighed. “He was in my room and we had an argument. I stormed off.”

San looked around once before kissing your forehead. “Do you want some fresh air? Shall I accompany you to the gardens?”

“No,” you shook your head. “It’s best that we’re not seen together. I’ll go to the gardens myself, and… will I see you tonight?”

“If the King goes to his room, yes,” he promised, squeezing your shoulder in assurance. “Let me drop you off at least.”

You shrugged, following him as he briefed you about the latest court meeting the King attended. You found your maid in a corner with a few others and when she spotted you, she bowed before running to you.

“Good thing that I found you,” you smiled at her. “I got lost. Lord Choi was kind enough to guide me to the gardens.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I’ve been here for three years and I still get lost,” she admitted and San stifled a smile. “Shall I take you from here?”

“Yes, Lord Choi must be busy, let’s not bother the poor man,” you subtly winked at him and he bowed before leaving, his eyes holding promise of what he would do with you if he saw you at night. The excitement of that alone was enough to relax you and you followed your maid, listening to her as she talked about the new crocheting skill she learned from an elder.

When night time approached and San came to your room, you went straight to work. You were still locking the door of the chamber and it looked like the King hadn’t found out yet anyway. He never bothered coming anymore- and that was good. You didn’t want him either.

You first talked about the plan with San, going to your office and reading through the latest correspondence from Wonderland- the Prince had already deposited a large sum to the King. The King was still holding back on the blueprints of the weapons though, perhaps hoping to secure Utopia’s alliance first. At least he was smart enough to do that, you thought. Then San gave you another letter from Lord Jeong in Wonderland and you read it out loud.

“There’s a third party involved that your king does not know of yet- their oldest enemy. They have been offered what you offered to our nation but there has been no talk about what they will offer us in return. Foul play? Sounds like something your king should know,” you looked at San. “A third party?”

“Wonderland’s oldest enemy would be Halaland,” San thought for a moment. “So Lord Jeong is saying that Wonderland is offering to share the weapons blueprints that we’re providing them with. And whatever Halaland has promised Wonderland in return is a secret?”

“Foul play,” you recalled. “Maybe the army Wonderland is providing us with will ultimately take over Eden. Maybe Wonderland and Halaland will get to share what’s left of this kingdom by the time they’re done.”

San shook his head in disappointment. “The King… he does not realise what he’s gotten himself into. The Prince of Wonderland is really something to have brainwashed him this much.”

“You know,” you placed the letter on the table. “When the King came here in the afternoon, I gave him one final chance. I was willing to end this with a silent divorce if he was willing to reconsider his deal with Wonderland,” you sighed deeply. “He ended up wondering if I was being ‘backed’ by someone and was siding against him.”

“He doesn’t even deserve that chance,” San shook his head. “That could have ended badly, y/n.”

“I know,” you pursed your lips. “I’m not even disappointed anymore, I’m just… sad. It’s a shame that it had to end this way.”

“It really is,” San nodded. “But I can’t think of any other way we can save Eden. We can’t let him carry out this plan and destroy Eden just so he can feel accomplished. And maybe it’s the people around him that misguided him too- all those earls and dukes he hangs out with,” San tsk-ed. “He keeps asking my opinion on things. I think he wants to see if I really agree with him or if I’m just playing along.”

“So when we do this… we’ll have to testify against him in court. Provide evidence. I trust you’ve been taking care of that part?”

“I’m the keeper of all those documents,” San nodded. “Unless the King catches on to our plan, which is unlikely, I think we’re good. What about you?”

“I decided to go through the King’s office last night,” you told him, getting up and urging him to follow you. You opened the door to his office and turned on the lamp, steering towards the King’s table. “I found a hidden compartment in here,” you patted underneath the desk. “I thought you might be skilled enough to open it.”

San knelt down to inspect the lock. “It requires a key. I bet the King keeps it on him.”

“Well, do you know how to pick locks?” You asked and he said he could try. He looked around for some tool before his gaze fixated on your pinned hair and he grinned, pulling it out of your hair and bending down. You waited anxiously but when San shook his head, you pouted.

“It’s a good lock,” he said. “Might steal the key some day.”

“Don’t bother, I have plenty of other evidence,” you told him. “I was just curious what else he kept here.”

San nodded, tucking the chunk of hair that had escaped your tied hair and pinning it back, a faint smile on his lips as he trailed his fingers along the side of your face and rested it under your chin. “So… shall we start searching for allies in the court?”

“I think so,” you said, watching his eyes turn soft as they fell on your lips. “I could start with the people who sided with Utopia two decades ago.”

“Sounds like a plan,” San’s voice was low and he swiped a thumb across your lower lip. “The door is locked, yeah?”

“Yes,” you breathed, and San was immediately crashing his lips on yours, his arms keeping you tucked to his body and you responded with the same eagerness, fisting his shirt. His tongue prodded between your lips and you opened your mouth, kissing him back passionately while his tongue explored your mouth. You kissed for a while before you drew back for breath, laughing.

“What’s with the sudden change of mood?”

San smirked dangerously, picking you up and you squealed, instinctively wrapping your legs around him. He placed you on the King’s desk, hands on either side of you as he locked eyes with you, now matching your height.

“I’ve been planning to make a mess of his office,” San admitted, leaning in and you heard the sounds of the objects falling from the desk when he swiped his hand across to make space. “And now seems like a perfect time.”

Your mouth parted in surprise as a wave of arousal washed over you- taking you in the King’s office? “You’re insane.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t fantasised about this,” San started trailing kisses along your neck. “Because I want to make love to you everywhere. I want to fuck you on the King’s desk, the King’s bed, his furniture, the walls of his chamber. And I want to paint your walls with my cum. Show him that this is what he gets for whatever he did to you. And I want to hear you scream my name. God, I wish he could hear that.”

You were pretty sure you almost came from his words alone. “San,” you pleaded, drawing him closer with uneven breaths. San kissed you deeply, joining his forehead with yours.

“I’m sometimes mad at him for treating you like this, but…” San scoffed. “I know it’s what brought us together. I can’t thank him for what he did, but god, I’m so glad that you are mine. I wish he loved you but I’m glad he didn’t, because now I can show you what it’s like to be loved. I love you.”

“I understand,” you told him, almost crying. You really did. “If I hadn’t married him… I wouldn’t have found you.” You pecked his lips. “And whatever happened, it’s sad but… I’m glad you came. I’m glad I found you, and I love you more than you can imagine.”

San kissed you again, this time sensually, just revelling in the feeling of how well your lips fit as if made for each other while his fingers untied your gown, making it slip away to your shoulders. While he kissed you, he ran his hands across your chest, fondling your breast and then he broke apart only to latch his mouth on one of your breasts while he caressed the other, eliciting a deep moan out of you. His lips travelled further down, trailing kisses along your stomach until he reached the waistband of your panties.

“Won’t you be a good girl and take them off for me?” He whispered against your core and you fought the urge to ride his face. You instead pushed him back with a pout, making him chuckle deeply. You shimmied your panties off, the cold air of the room making you clench your thighs together but San tsk-ed, pushing your legs apart to make room for him.

“So pretty,” he licked his lips at the sight of your soaking core, kissing your lips once before going straight for your clit and kissing it, making you groan. Then he swiped his tongue along your folds, lapping at your arousal hungrily and simultaneously inserting a finger inside you. All of the sensations were enough to make you squirm wildly, unable to do anything except clench the sides of the desk while your back arched at the feeling of his mouth on your core and his finger inside you. He prodded another finger inside, smirking at the face you made- bliss.

“So needy for me, aren’t you?” He scissored inside, preparing you for what was about to come. “What would the King think if he found his queen being fucked by his most loyal servant?”

“Not… not his queen,” you managed to say. “Only yours. Only your queen.”

San seemed to like that answer and he placed his free hand behind your neck to bring you to his lips, kissing you passionately and swallowing your moans as you finally got the chance to clench your thighs, rolling your hips while he pressed his thumb to your clit. Just when your walls clenched as an indication that you were about to come, San drew apart and pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean and you shook your head at the sight. His gaze darkened and he cupped your chin, opening your mouth and inserting those very fingers in there, making you suck at them. 

“Like how you taste on me?” He asked, groaning at the sight of your glazed eyes. “You sure know how to use your mouth, Princess.”

“I want you,” you told him as you unbuttoned his shirt, going for his pants but he shook his head.

“Not now,” he took them off himself. “I want to fuck you raw right here, right now.”

You scoffed and spread your thighs for him and he swiped his hard length along your folds, lubricating them before entering slowly, stretching you out. Once he was fully inside you, he thrusted inside once, swallowing your loud moan with a kiss. Soon, he set at a steady pace, making you more and more desperate with each thrust.

“San, I’m so close,” you told him. 

“So am I,” he groaned, his grip on your hips harsh enough to leave marks. You were balancing yourself with your arms around his neck and it looked like he had an idea- he unwrapped your arms and made you lay down on the desk and when you put your legs on his shoulders, he grinned in satisfaction.

“Feel that?” He thrusted inside you with all his might and you put a hand over your mouth to stifle the unholy sound of pleasure that would have left you. “So fucking tight, and so fucking full.”

You couldn’t even respond- you were seeing stars, and you had never felt this pleasured, this wanted before. San pressed kisses on your leg as he continued thrusting inside you, your moans mixing with each other, his hands on your waist keeping you close to him. 

“Come for me, my queen,” he groaned and your walls fluttered around him. “Come for me.”

This time, you didn’t hold back your moans as your walls clenched and you squirmed under him and he came right with you, the feeling of his warm cum heightening your orgasm. You whimpered almost pathetically as he continued thrusting, fucking his cum inside you before sliding out, watching your pussy leaking on the King’s desk.

“What a sight,” he caressed your legs, drawing them down so he could lean forward and kiss you gently. “I could do this forever, y/n, fuck,” he breathed against your lips. “I love you so much.”

“Me too,” you said, barely able to breathe. “I love you.” You pecked his cheek before resting your head back on the desk, trying to calm down. “San, you’ll… you’ll stay with me, right? After all of this? Where do you want to go? What do you want to do?”

“Slow down, love,” San chuckled, grabbing some tissues and cleaning you up, tossing them in the bin and deciding to take you to bed first, muttering that cleaning could wait. He laid you down and settled next to you, drawing the covers over you both and you scooted closer, resting your head on his arm.

“I should ask you- what do you want to do after this is over? WIll you go back to your home?”

You bit your lips- you would have wanted to go home but things had changed now. Perhaps, San could hear your answer in your silence. He kissed your forehead. “You can tell me, y/n. I’ll go with you wherever you want.”

“That’s not fair,” you pouted. “You must have something you want to do if you’re not the King’s Right Hand anymore. You must have thought about how you wanted to settle down.”

“But things are different now, aren’t they?” He said, his voice almost a whisper. “Now, I’ll follow you to the edge of the earth.”

You laughed in disbelief at that, overwhelmed by his confession. “Let’s chase each other then. Wherever we go.”

—------------------------------

The next few days passed by in a blur- it was mostly you planning and corresponding with your ‘friends’ around the continent- Utopia’s spies might be a better term for some of them. You received confirmation that there was indeed a deal going around between Wonderland and Halaland and since Halaland was a well-established nation, you couldn’t think of anything else it would want except to expand its kingdom. 

You and San barely had time to do anything other than exchange information and let your next moves play out. Your goal was to earn the favour of the King’s court before Lord Jeong in Wonderland would land the killing blow on the Prince. The Prince’s plans were soon going to become public and when the King would be wondering if they were just rumours or if they held any truth to them, that was when you were going to submit evidence against the King in the court. You were just waiting for Lord Jeong to arrive here with the physical evidence of weapons dealings between Wonderland and Halaland.

Though there was a lot going on, the King started making visits to your chamber more often. It was probably because he wanted to earn your favour and get Utopia to fund Eden. You wanted to tell him that getting Utopia’s funds would end with Eden’s downfall but he was entertaining none of your doubts, so you let him be. You let him yell at you whenever he wanted, you let him chat with you when he felt like it. You even let him caress your cheek and peck your lips, though it disgusted you now. The King knew that you wouldn’t give in so he was resorting to being physically affectionate with you. To make you think that he wasn’t the same man who would lose his mind and hurt you. 

And maybe, if it weren’t for San showing you what it felt like to be loved, you would have caved in. If you hadn’t experienced love in its best form, you would have been starved for affection and thought that the King was really changing for good- but not now. Your thoughts had never been clearer.

Between all of this, you couldn’t stop worrying about the future. If your plan succeeded and the King divorced you… where would you go? Back to Utopia only to get wed to another man? You loved your home, yes, but it was cruel. Your parents wouldn’t let you stay unmarried for the rest of your life- you could already imagine how appalled they would be when you get divorced. Their scrutinising gazes… you could already feel them on your back.

As for Eden… you worried about its future. The court of the King was thirsty for power, and you sometimes worried if the people who knew of the deal with Wonderland supported him for the purpose of his eventual downfall so they could seat themselves on his throne. You decided to start looking into the King’s bloodline- he must have some relatives around. You were Utopian and you could not rule this kingdom.

With all of these thoughts plaguing your mind, when the knock sounded and your maids announced the arrival of Lord Kang, you straightened and welcomed him inside. After a bow, he settled in front of you.

“How has your family been?” You asked as a greeting. “I haven’t seen your sister in a while.”

“I told her to stay away from royal affairs,” he chuckled, a fondness in his eyes. “I think she enjoyed your anniversary party a bit too much- my apologies if she said or did something-”

“Not at all,” you laughed. “She makes quite pleasant company, you can tell her that.”

Lord Kang smiled and you offered him tea. After a sip, he finally asked. “Why did you request my presence today, Your Majesty?”

“Well, I wanted to discuss a few things with you,” you began. “I understand that you’re close with the King- you’re one of his trusted advisors.”

“That I am.”

“Then you must know about the deal we have going on with Wonderland,” you said and he nodded, curious to hear where this was going. “What do you think about the deal?”

“You want my opinion?” He asked and you nodded. He cleared his throat. “I think it’s a good deal but we lack funds-”

“Lord Kang,” you interrupted and he looked cautiously at you. “I was also a royal advisor until a year ago when I got married. You and I both know this deal isn’t as good as the King thinks it is, don’t we?”

When Lord Kang didn’t respond, you decided to give him another moment while you sipped your tea. “From what I’ve seen in the court, your decisions are always in the favour of Eden as a kingdom, not Eden as the King’s playground. Sometimes you offer opposing arguments to the King, which is why he trusts you- you make him see things from a different perspective. I want your perspective on this deal- not the King’s advisor, but simply Lord Kang.”

A faint smile crawled on his lips and he shook his head. “You want me to be honest with you?”

“Absolutely,” you glanced at him. “I hope that is not a problem.”

“I’d rather know what you think about the deal first, Your Majesty,” he relaxed back, folding his arms. “My answer could change depending on your answer.”

You scoffed but you could understand- he probably thought this was the King testing him out or something. Of course he didn’t know just what sort of a relationship you and the King had- and why would the Queen ever want the advice of her husband’s trusted man on this matter without the King’s knowledge? The King was out in town today so you had carefully chosen the time too.

“Are you aware of the deal between Wonderland and Halaland?”

“Wonderland and Halaland?” He frowned. “I am not aware.”

“Well, they do have something going on. And one might think- with the deal with Eden, why would Wonderland want to be involved with Halaland? It’s not a secret that Eden and Halaland hate each other.”

Lord Kang fell silent for a few minutes but then he sighed. “I’m not sure what we have going on with Wonderland is good either. We’re known for our armoury but to give that to Wonderland? Alright, if we get something good enough in return- but the annexation of the few islands that just gained independence from us not so long ago? Eden will be called a traitor nation, and this is not what the King’s parents and grandparents worked for.”

“My point exactly,” you nodded. “If it was, I don’t know, better trade? Opening a route? I would have agreed to the deal with all my heart. If it benefitted Eden, I would have no problem with it, but I’m not sure the current deal benefits Eden. And the King is demanding funds from Utopia, but Utopia won’t give in- Utopia and Wonderland have a history, as you know.”

“I’m aware.”

“The King thinks I can influence Utopia, but I cannot. I am the youngest of four which means even as the Queen of Eden, my position won’t influence my family.”

“You must be in a spot then,” Lord Kang cocked his head, trying to figure you out. “The King can only ask you for funds.”

“I am, and the King may be my husband, but if this deal goes on, what do you think Wonderland will do with the funds we give them? Help Eden annex the islands, and then?”

“Demand a share,” Lord Kang said and you nodded. “And Halaland…?”

“Wonderland is providing Eden with an army and demanding Utopia help them fund that army. What could Halaland want from Wonderland, Lord Kang? What is the one thing Halaland is lacking at?”

“A good armoury,” Lord Kang started connecting the dots. “You’re saying Wonderland will give our weapons blueprints to Halaland? For what?”

“For what?” You retorted. “You tell me, Lord Kang.”

Realisation dawned on his face and he frowned. “Your Majesty… are you sure? Where did you hear that?”

“I have some evidence, and some more arrives soon, but I hope this is enough,” you passed the register that had been lying on the table to Lord Kang for him to inspect it. While he scrolled through the entries and made sure the stamp on it seemed real, you finished your tea, feeling satisfied. 

“Halaland is funding Wonderland. And it can only be for one reason- the army they will insert inside Eden will not only annex the islands, but make Eden submit to the two. Eden will be no more. The King refuses to see it,” you told him. “And the annexation of the islands alone is enough to get him tried in the court, isn’t that right? It violates a bunch of international laws. And if you knew about this annexation, Lord Kang, just why were you playing along with the King?”

Lord Kang sighed deeply. “The King… he only let me and Lord Jung know a few days ago, and he ordered us to carry on with his plans. There is obviously a hanging threat on our heads that he hasn’t said out loud yet, but we know that we have to tread cautiously. We don’t know who’s the enemy or who is the ally anymore. We’re confused, if you can’t tell already,” he sighed in defeat and you pursed your lips.

“Look, I have no ulterior motive today. I have tried every possible method to get the King to listen to me and see that this deal will get not only him but his kingdom destroyed, but he has also tried every possible means to make me bend to his will, and I’m not sure I can win without your support. The only thing I will get from this is a divorce, which I’ve wanted for quite some time now.”

Lord Kang frowned in confusion. “To make you bend to his will?”

You hadn’t planned this, but you figured someone should know. You rolled your sleeves a bit to show him the ugly blue bruise and scratch the King had left on you not too long ago. Lord Kang paled at the sight.

“I know your sister is quite a fan of the King,” you chuckled, “but men… men can be scary. Power is not meant for every man. Not a lot of them can handle it, and when they can’t… they resort to such means.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” you told him. “Just know that I would have demanded a divorce anyway. This deal is providing me the opportunity to save Eden- and I don’t hate Eden- the people of Eden have always been nice to me. I hate the King. Believe me, I tried to make him see sense. But my job now is done, and I will be submitting all this evidence against the King and the Prince of Wonderland in the court. Would you like to be my ally in all of this, or would you rather see your kingdom fall?”

“I think you already know the answer,” he rubbed his face. “What should I do?”

You smiled at him. “I need more allies- only people you trust. Lord Choi… he is our ally too. Please work with him and get anyone who is good at heart at your side. The rest will be tried in the court along with the King. And the Prince of Wonderland… his days are numbered. You should know that. You have a week, and you all can try convincing the King if you can. In fact, it would be better if the King redacts from the plan, but please don’t let him get a wisp of the fact that I’m involved in all of this.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Lord Kang put a hand on his heart. “I understand. And I admire your devotion to the kingdom that has failed you-”

“The kingdom didn’t fail me,” you smiled sadly. “Its ruler did. One week to decide his fate, Lord Kang. Save him if you can- it’s the last act of mercy I will allow him before I get what is owed to me.”

—-------------------------

You never thought this day would come- the bright lights in the Great Hall were making your head throb. The noise around you from the audience was deafening and the pounding of the gavel was synchronising with your heartbeat as you stared at the man who had ruined your life.

The King of Eden, now in the court facing you. 

He wasn’t surprised anymore. The surprise had worn off a few days ago when he learnt about the evidence you had submitted against him in the royal court, when he tried confronting you- but you now had the protection of his own court, which was a slap on his face. He had taken one look around the room and found most of his trusted advisors and his Right Hand around you. And he had lost it.

He had absolutely lost it, and his advisors finally saw him as the man he was and not the King. They watched him yell at you and pick up a vase to throw at you, which was when a few of them restrained him and accompanied him to his chambers with the guards while Lord Kang sighed in disappointment, sharing a look with San and agreeing that it was no longer safe for you to stay in the castle- the accusations the King had spewed accompanied with the threats were enough to cause worry. So Lord Kang arranged a place for you- he was kind enough to offer you a room in his own house, and his sister was elated to be near you anyway, though quite disappointed about how things had turned out. 

“The Queen may now speak. Silence must be observed while the situation is explained.”

You nodded at the judge. It was the final day of the court hearing and only your statement remained. The court members who had allied with you had given their statements- that included the King’s Right Hand San as well. Perhaps, his ‘betrayal’ hurt the King more than yours. After all… he was once his friend.

You recalled the events of last night. Though San and you had agreed not to meet up unless absolutely necessary, San had found you in Lord Kang’s gardens after his session in the court. You took one look at his face and knew that he was hurting, so you called him in your room there, finally sharing some privacy-

And San hugged you immediately, melting in your arms, almost losing balance. Your heart clenched and you sank down with him, letting him sort his thoughts out in your arms while you caressed his hair. When he finally drew apart, you caressed his face.

“I know how hard it was for you,” you told him. “And I’m sorry I put you through this.”

“No,” San shook his head. “It’s for the better. I did it for him too- for our kingdom. Maybe one day… he’ll return a better man and a better ruler.”

“Maybe,” you smiled, pecking his lips. “I’m so proud of you.”

San chuckled at that, shaking his head and muttering something about how the roles shifted. 

You could understand exactly how he must have felt now that you were facing the King. 

“Your honour… I’m not sure if it’s exactly the King’s fault for believing that the Prince of Wonderland could be trusted. But you are aware from all the hearings of our court during the past couple of weeks that the only crime the King has committed is almost selling off our kingdom unknowingly, with the greed of wanting to annex our bordering islands. Sharing top secret information about the weapons without the consent of the Minister of Defence- yes, the King has the final say but the Minister of Defence’s consent is necessary to avoid situations like the one that has now unfolded. And the fact that those blueprints would have ultimately been in Halaland’s hands?”

The room echoed agreements and the King looked down. You continued. “The King was not aware of the deal between Wonderland and Halaland. I can vouch for that. However… the King is responsible for violating the international code of weapons and armoury and the code of unlawful and illegal annexation. Since the damage is still minimal, I hope his sentence can be accordingly. However…”

The judge looked at you expectantly and you waited for the King to lock his gaze with yours, looking partly sorry and partly grateful that you weren’t exaggerating anything, you took a deep breath.

“Since everyone is present here, I would officially like to announce my demand for a divorce and stepping down as the Queen of Eden. I hope the matter of my divorce can be cleared before the King steps down from his position as well.”

The King sighed deeply at that, about to say something but then he stopped. Perhaps, he finally realised that nothing he said now could make it up to you. He had tried everything- he had also tried influencing the court but since you had witnesses now- San, Lord Kang and the maid who used to play chess with you- the judge had warned the King in the previous session to stop trying to threaten or bribe the court. The King had lost.

“I understand,” the judge pounded the gavel again and announced a break while they made the final decisions. You looked at the King- as your husband- for perhaps the last time.

You had demanded a divorce the day he burst into your chamber with the whole court present. The documents only needed his signature but he refused to comply out of spite, so you decided a public announcement would humble him- these judges were also handling the procedure of your divorce with this case because they had learnt how everything was connected- and how Utopia was meant to be a tool that Eden would provide with its own hands to the nations that would end her.

It did. You could see he looked weary now. Lord Kang and Lord Jeong stepped in and helped you out of the room to another hall nearby while you waited for the judges’ decision. Meanwhile, San, who was still the King’s Right Hand, was probably consoling the King. Or giving him a piece of his mind. You hoped it was both.

“How are you holding up?” Lord Kang asked, signalling the maids to get you something to drink.

You took a shaky breath. “Not the best. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Lord Jeong… you’re good, right? You still have a day in case you’re getting cold feet.”

Lord Jeong scoffed, shaking his head. “I still think it’s too much- just because I’m related to the King very distantly does not mean I’m fit for the throne.”

“Exactly,” Lord Kang quipped in. “But that’s not the reason we recommended you as the new king of Eden, though it was part of it.”

Lord Jeong shivered involuntarily and you grinned despite yourself. “You’ll make a good king. I feel it in my heart.”

He passed you an affectionate look. “Worry about yourself right now, dear.”

Lord Kang snorted at that and that sparked bickering between the three of you until one of the guards knocked to tell you that the court was ready to announce their decisions. You took a deep breath, the others mirroring your movement and the three of you shared a look before going to the court.

Everything was going to change from this moment.

And everything did change.

—------------------------

“Wooyoung, where did you put my speech?” You asked, checking all the drawers in the desk again. You recalled seeing him copying some bits from your speech, which earned him a smack from Yeosang, but he wasn’t bothered enough. You all knew he wasn’t going to read from a piece of paper anyway, he would simply improvise.

“Lord Jung Wooyoung,” you called in a warning tone which finally made him stop laughing at the very nervous, soon to be crowned Lord Jeong, who was pacing in front of the fireplace trying to play the events that would unfold tonight in his head, while the maid tried to get him to wear a jacket. The maid looked at you for help and you signalled her to settle down for now- no one could calm a nervous Lord Jeong.

“Ah, it must be somewhere around here,” he said dismissively, pointing at the very desk you had been searching for a solid five minutes now. You sent a glare in his direction before spotting a page on the floor near the couch where he had previously been sitting. You sighed, placing your speech back on the desk and skimming through it again.

“I know you’re both going to end up improvising anyway,” Yeosang said, “so why bother now? Stop trying to memorise it.”

“Honestly, you should be the one memorising it right now,” Wooyoung looked at him pointedly. “You always forget what you’re about to say.”

You stifled a snort at that, going towards your maid who sat helplessly with the jacket. You took it from her and patted her shoulder. “It’s okay, you’ve done enough.”

“I don’t want to be his maid when he becomes the King,” she pouted. “I want to continue working for you. I bet he’s not as good at chess as you are.”

“Oh, he’s better,” you laughed, glancing at the tall man now biting his nails while he stared at the fire. “Can you get Lord Choi? He must be in the Great Hall worrying just like him. And then you can get ready too. Remember to bring the flowers, okay?”

The maid got up, glad to be relieved of her duties and you joined Lord Jeong by the fireplace. “We still have some time before the coronation begins, so why don’t you sit down and relax a bit?”

“I’m still wondering if this is a good decision,” he admitted, running a hand through his dark locks. 

“Well…” you took a deep breath. “I’ve been monitoring you for the past three months, Yunho. I’d say you’re pretty good at what you do. If I had any doubts about you before… they’re gone now.”

“Really?” He asked, a smile growing on his lips as he looked at you. 

“Really,” you nodded, smiling back. You knew that Jeong Yunho may be good at what he did but he needed affirmation, especially from you. He was hell bent on the idea that you could keep being the Queen of Eden and he could be your royal advisor or something instead, but you made him switch the roles. You did not wish to be the Queen anymore- it wasn’t your place to be, though no one around you opposed the idea when he first presented it. So whenever you told Yunho that he made a great king, he took your word seriously. “It’s a big day today. Get some rest, please. We don’t want you fumbling in the Great Hall in front of hundreds of people, okay?”

“Geez, thanks,” Yunho shook his head, letting you help him with his jacket. You straightened the collars and patted his shoulder, glancing at your right to see San leaning against the wall and watching you two with a smile.

“Is she bothering you, Yunho? Should I see her out?”

“I’d rather you see him out,” he pointed at Wooyoung who was eating peanuts, throwing the shells at a very annoyed Yeosang who was throwing them back.

“Kids, both of them,” you laughed. Sometimes, you wondered why you ever thought they were serious individuals. Perhaps, now that you were close and comfortable enough with each other to skip the titles, you saw them in a new light now. 

Except now you used your titles to mock each other.

“Rich coming from you, Princess,” Wooyoung said. “I saw you trying to blow the seeds of the oranges and make them land in the bin. Must say, I’m impressed with your aim.”

You may have been ashamed some other day, but not now. “That’s what years of practice does. My aim is better than yours though- you really can’t land one shell on Yeosang.”

“Yes,” Yeosang agreed. “I’m better. Watch-” 

He flicked a shell that landed straight in the middle of Wooyoung’s head where he parted his hair, making him shut his eyes in annoyance as everyone laughed. San nudged your hand and you looked at him- he pointed towards the room. You were still living here even after getting divorced because Yunho insisted that you stay at least until the coronation and help him prepare in the meanwhile. You let San take you there and he squeezed your hand after shutting the door.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like the weight on my shoulder is getting lighter,” you laughed. “They all still treat me like I’m the Queen. Yeosang still calls me ‘Your Majesty’. I can’t wait until they start calling Yunho ‘Your Highness’.”

San laughed at that, kissing your temple. “Well, you’ll always be our queen. In our hearts.”

“Wait till the future queen hears about this,” you scoffed. “What about you? I bet you didn’t think you’d watch two coronations happen at this age.”

“Ah, that’s what I wanted to talk about,” San pulled out a letter from the pocket of his jacket. “The King- I should really stop calling him that, but he sent a letter. You should give it a read.”

“Oh?” You took the letter, wondering what its contents were. San made you sit down, assuring you that it was okay. You opened the letter and gave it a read.

My old friend San,

I hope you’re doing well. The weather here is nice, and I miss my parents. I think it is why I always avoided coming here, because this is where they were happy, and this is where I would miss them. Maybe I should have come here before I lost my path. I found my father’s journals and I’ve been reading them. After all the reading I’ve done in the past three months, I have realised that I have failed my parents, and y/n… she has made them proud by saving the kingdom that my parents worked so hard to protect. The kingdom my grandparents fought for, so we could live freely. If my mother was alive today, she would have liked y/n very much. If my father was alive today, he might have given her a position in his own court. I wronged her, I always knew that. I don’t know where the violence came from- my parents did not raise me like this. I understand that you are ashamed of me, like so many others, but I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me one day. I hope she can forgive me one day too. I heard she won’t take the crown. I wish she would have, but if she insists cousin Jeong is a good choice… then I’ll agree with her. In my room, in my desk there is a secret compartment, the key to which I kept hidden in the bookshelf in y/n’s office between my favourite books- she will know which ones. You will find the tie that I wore to the coronation, that my ancestors wore, that I would like cousin Jeong to wear now. It is blue like the colour of Eden. 

I think I like it here. I might spend longer than my sentence of ten years. I would like it very much if you could visit me one day. Take care of yourself, and… take care of her. I know you will.

“Wow,” you breathed, turning the letter but finding it ending abruptly just like that with his signature in the bottom. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” San took your hand in his, caressing it. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“It’s just that… I understand, I really do. But he sounds the same,” you looked at San. “He had his good days, and he sounded like this. I don’t know if he was having a good day or if he’s actually remorseful.”

“I don’t know either, but…” San cocked his head in thought. “If he’s actually feeling remorseful, this is a good first step.”

You nodded, staring at the letter. San gently took it away and tucked it back in his pocket, locking his eyes with yours and making sure you were okay before gently kissing you. You kissed him back, glad he was here with you right now. He drew back and smiled.

“Shall we go and crown the new king then? You and I, his Right Hand and Royal Advisor? You still have time if you want to change your position.”

“Nah, I’m good,” you looked around. “As much as I hated this room, this place… I have grown to love it. I don’t want to go back home and be a princess. I want to stay here with you, with everyone. Here, I’m just the King’s royal advisor. And the King won’t care if I’m Utopian.”

“You know, maybe he does,” Wooyoung butted in, entering the room without permission and you stifled the urge to roll your eyes. “He’s from Wonderland, he must hate you. Oh! Or better yet, the two of you might be planning to overthrow him, right? Come on, you can count me in-”

Yunho bumped his shoulder purposely with Wooyoung, making him almost fall on his face and you snorted. “Does my hair look better like this, or-” he parted his hair to the side messily. “Like this?”

You heard the sound of Yeosang laughing to himself and Wooyoung watched Yunho in disbelief. “Nah. He’s not fit to be the king. Princess… please continue to be the queen, please, Your Majesty-”

“Shut up, Wooyoung,” San warned, trying his best to not burst out laughing. You patted his shoulder, getting up and ignoring everyone, going to your office and scanning through the books until you found the astronomy one, wedged between politics and philosophy. You wedged your hand between astronomy and philosophy and felt the cold metal. Satisfied, you got the key out and exited the room to go to the King’s office, unlocking the compartment and finding the blue tie with the King’s wedding band that he had left behind. The one he never wore except on occasions. As if he wanted no physical evidence that he was bound to you.

You took the tie and went back to your room, finding all three of them styling a flustered Yunho’s hair. A knock sounded and your maid entered, saying that it was time for you all to enter the Hall. You shooed the boys away and helped Yunho with the tie, telling him its history and approving his hair. Yeosang and Wooyoung started to push Yunho out of the room and you looked in the mirror- no signs of distress or sadness on your face for once. 

San stood behind you, admiring your flowing blue gown in the mirror, and without warning, pulled the hairpin out of your hair, letting half the curls fall down with your front pinned back. You gasped, “It took the maid 2 hours, Choi San!”

“I like your hair better this way,” he muttered in a low voice laced with innuendo. “I like your hair messy.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, pushing him away with a grin and touching your lipstick again. “Don’t kiss me for the rest of the night.”

“And when the night is over?”

“Then, and only then,” you turned to him, running your finger down his chest. “You can ruin my lipstick then.”

San bowed as if it was an order and arm in arm, you exited your chamber, ready to remove your title of ‘queen’ once and for all. You didn’t need it anymore. You were only a princess now, and your knight was the only person you would ever need.

[eightmakesonebraincell]

ateez as mafia boyfriends (christmas special)

genre: mafia!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, brainrot and smutfest of mafia x christmas tropes

length: 13.8k

c/w: nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), graphic depictions of death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (murder, abduction, corruption), pet names (kitten, babe, baby, love, sweetheart)

a/n: this one’s for yumi (@sorryimananti-romantic), mafia anon and everyone who’s sent in an ask about mafia!ateez before 🫶 loosely based on aammwffy but this is still a standalone fic not part two thank you for coming to my ted talk 😙✌️ merry christmas y'all

hongjoong

the stocking in your hand jerks when you suddenly feel it

it’s a black stocking that hongjoong has made for wooyoung from out of a spare shirt

there are already several other hand-made stockings hanging on nails that he has hammered into the wall of the warehouse

and this whole ‘ateez’s mob boss couple decorates the gang’s old warehouse for christmas’ shenanigan would have been cute and wholesome…

if not for the vibrator that is currently pulsing inside your throbbing pussy

“why’d you stop, kitten?” hongjoong murmurs into your ear from behind your shoulder, knowing very well the reason why is currently in the pocket of his black slacks

when you struggle to answer, he snakes the hand that isn’t toying with the remote around your waist to the front of your pants

“hmm? what’s wrong?” he asks teasingly

your knees buckle when he suddenly cups your core, pressing the vibrator further into you as he switches it to a higher setting

gripping onto his forearm to ground yourself, you’re unable to stop yourself from moaning at the feeling of his muscles rippling underneath your fingertips while he grinds his hand against you

but as soon as you feel your high approaching, it is ripped away from you

hongjoong switches the vibrator off and removes his hand

you are close to cursing him out, but the way that you can feel the hardened front of his slacks chase after your ass for friction whenever you move away even the slightest has you confident that it will not be long until he is cracking

until he begs for you

letting out a shaky exhale, you hang the stocking still in your grip next to mingi’s one; a dark, navy blue that used to be a fluffy towel, now repurposed for christmas

hongjoong passes you the last stocking but you let it drop to the ground

“oops,” you drawl coquettishly

you bend over to pick up jongho’s stocking, slowly and deliberately brushing up against hongjoong’s cock with the curve of your ass

you smirk when the friction draws out a guttural groan from his chest

a hand comes to rest just below your waist, “you’re playing with fire right now, kitten” 

“looks like we need a little…water to put it out, then,” you press back against him once more

he snaps

it’s not long before the tip of his swollen cock is pressing against your entrance, his slacks still bunched around his thighs in his hurry to fuck you

he pulls out the vibrator and he shushes your whines at the feeling of emptiness by thrusting three fingers right into you

“fuck, kitten,” he mouths the side of your neck, “you’re already stretched out and ready for my cock”

your mind goes fuzzy at his words and hongjoong smirks in satisfaction

sliding his fingers from out of you, he lines the tip of his cock between your legs-

you both freeze when a loud clang resonates throughout the warehouse, like someone has hit the outer steel walls

hard.

“kim hongjoong!” an unfamiliar voice yells with fury from outside

another clang, this time closer towards the entrance

there’s not much holding the warehouse doors closed; you two weren’t exactly expecting hostile visitors

“you think we can get a round in before they make it through the doors?” hongjoong asks

“if you can cum in the next ten seconds, sure”

a colourful string of curses leaves his mouth before he pulls out of you and fixes his slacks - with difficulty, you must say - while you adjust your own clothes

just in time for the warehouse doors to fling open

“you killed my fucking brother, you motherfucking bastard!”

“who are you again?” hongjoong leans back to rest against the edge of the table while he watches you pick up jongho’s long-forgotten stocking on the floor. “you’ll have to remind me.”

numerous men stride in towards the far end of the warehouse where you two are - were - hanging up the stockings

you look away with disinterest; it’s nothing you and hongjoong can’t take care of

“kyungseok,” the man grits out, jaw clenching with irritation when neither of you show any signs of recognition. “you killed my brother, kyungtae. leader of the bluebirds.”

at his last word, it finally clicks

“ah,” hongjoong cracks his knuckles and stretches his neck lazily, “the one who thought they could touch my kitten and get away with it”

meanwhile, you step back after hanging the last stocking on the wall, admiring the row of decorations

you direct your question at the man behind you, “what do you think, kyungtaek?”

“it’s kyungseok,” he snarls

you wave dismissively, pressing a kiss against hongjoong’s jaw as you praise, “these look wonderful, babe”

you hear kyungseok yell out at his lackeys followed by a flurry of movement

hongjoong sighs, sneaks a kiss in, and then gently steps the both of you to the side out of the path of an incoming kick

“if we make this quick, maybe i can finish fucking you before seonghwa and the others get here,” he winks

then you two move

in quick succession, you use the momentum of their thrown punches to yank two men over your shoulder, one after the other

the wind is knocked out of them and you aim a sharp blow to their necks to render them unconscious

realising that close combat may not be the best idea, another bluebird member brandishes a knife to gain the upper hand

“weapons? that’s not very fair,” you purr

you lunge forward before you have even finished your sentence, catching him off guard and grabbing hold of his arm

twisting his wrist backwards, he shouts in pain as his grip on the knife loosens and it clatters to the floor

“oh dear,” you mock, your hands twisting up to curl around his throat

vaguely, you register hongjoong yell out your name

“duck!”

you barely have time to crouch, your hand yanking down the man with you from where your fingers are still wrapped around his throat, before a burly male is tossed right over your body and sent careening into the table nearby

you watch in dismay as cookies scatter onto the floor, wood splintering with a loud crack

“fuck you, hongjoong, i spent ages arranging them onto the plates”

he has the audacity to smirk in apology while he wraps his arms around the neck of another man and twists, forearms flexing as the bone gives way with a sickening snap, “sorry, kitten”

the man whose throat you have been squeezing is now limp and he sags to the floor

he’s too heavy for you to throw at hongjoong, so you settle for picking up the knife you disarmed and fling it at your boyfriend

“duck,” you tease

hongjoong rolls his eyes and drops his body towards the ground, your knife hurtling past the empty space where his forehead was just milliseconds ago, before it hits its mark and makes itself home in the chest of a man who has been sneaking up from behind

moving in tandem, hongjoong extends his leg and sweeps it along the ground to knock the thug off his feet

the man’s arms fling backwards as his weight crashes towards the ground, colliding into the christmas tree you had decorated earlier and taking it down with him

you pinch the bridge of your nose as the ornaments shatter

“oops?” hongjoong shrugs his shoulders noncommittally 

stepping over the lifeless bodies scattered by your feet, you move away a little to pull out your phone

most of the bluebird gang has already been taken out; hongjoong can handle the rest himself

“hey, seonghwa and i are nearly there,” yunho’s voice sounds over the receiver

“oh,” you hum contemplatively, “is anyone else still on their way?”

“probably wooyoung. you know him, he’s always late,” he chuckles into the phone, “why?”

“can you see if he can buy some new ornaments? and pick up some fresh cookies while he’s at it”

there’s a yell and a loud thud as a body rolls to a stop just a few feet away from you

“what was that?” yunho startles

hongjoong has picked up the fallen christmas tree and is currently swinging it around like a crazed batter

“just hongjoong having some fun”

when you hang up, you are just in time to hear the loud thwunk as the tree connects with kyungseok’s temple

you’re not sure whether the splinter you hear is a result of the trunk or his skull cracking

the last bluebird member drops down dead, blood pooling out from under him

hongjoong scoffs, “merry fucking christmas”

and for good measure, hongjoong shoves an intact bauble into the man’s mouth

it’s finally silent

“now,” he turns to you, “where were we before we were…interrupted”

at hongjoong’s predatory gaze, you feel the arousal from before washing over you

he approaches you leisurely as he uncuffs his sleeves to roll them up, loosening the top buttons of his shirt, all the while undressing you with his lustful eyes

you drink up his appearance, eyes raking over his exposed chest that shines with a sheen layer of sweat

he’s in front of you now

“looks like i’ll have to prepare you again, kitten”

his fingers start to slip under the waistband of your panties when-

“heard you fucktards knocked over the cookies!”

his voice echoes throughout the warehouse before he even steps foot into the warehouse

wooyoung is fucking early.

you’re quite positive hongjoong is about to deck him through the roof

“wow,” wooyoung lets out a low whistle as he walks in to survey the scene, eyes scanning wildly over the splattered blood and mutilated bodies across the floor with an expression that appears mostly impressed

hongjoong’s clenched fists are white

uncaring of his leader’s lack of response, wooyoung continues, “when you told us the dress code was red, i didn’t think you meant this kind of red”

he approaches you two to squat down beside kyungseok’s body and taps the bauble in his mouth with interest, “rad decorations”

you watch in amusement as hongjoong’s last string snaps

“wooyoung,” he says evenly

it goes in one ear and out the other

wooyoung looks around as he asks, “can i tie him up with tinsel before the others get here?”

“jung wooyoung”

said man finally blanches

good thing too

because you don’t think hongjoong is joking when he says,

“if you don’t get the fuck out right now, you are going to become part of the decorations.”

seonghwa

“remember, as soon as i leave-”

“i need to lock the door,” you finish seonghwa’s sentence cheekily

he chuckles as he shakes his head fondly, “and if you feel like anything is off-”

“call you or hongjoong straight away,” you mimic, emphasising the last two words with the same seriousness he nags you with all the time

despite your words, your heart flutters shyly at seonghwa’s neverending protectiveness and worry for you

with his line of work, it isn’t easy for him to leave your side, much less leave you alone in the apartment

he understands though

it’s only been a few months since he found you; barely a shell of the curious, energetic and endearing person that you are now

under his careful nurturing, you have flourished and learnt to love and trust again

it doesn’t mean that you are quite ready to leave the apartment just yet for something other than a quick grocery run or walk in the park with seonghwa at your side

but it’s okay - baby steps

“i’ll be back at 6 and then we can cook dinner together,” he kisses your temple sweetly, “see you later, love”

you watch as he lingers outside the door, feet always ever so reluctant to leave

he motions for you to close the door and you know he won’t leave until he sees that you have closed and locked it

so with a final wave, you shut the door, turn the lock and then press your ear right up against the wood

he thinks you don’t know that he does it, and you won’t admit to it in fear that he will stop out of embarrassment

but you hear him whisper love you before his footsteps recede down the corridor

you have most of the day to yourself until seonghwa comes back

he had said that hongjoong was giving the gang christmas night off, a pleasant and welcome change from all the nights you fight the sleep tugging at your eyelids as you wait curled up on the sofa for seonghwa to come home

you occupy your day with little odd jobs here and there around the house, like washing the dishes and doing the laundry and cleaning the bedroom

he always tells you off because he wants to be the one doing them for you, but the small exasperated smile that he gives you every time barely conceals his underlying fondness

and then when you have exhausted the chores, you pull out a pencil and some paper and start drawing out ideas for a gingerbread house

because seonghwa had promised to make one with you later tonight once he discovered you had never tried it before

you cannot contain your excitement as the clock finally ticks to six

your little sketches lay abandoned across the coffee table as you start to pace the living room skittishly, ears perking up whenever you hear noise outside

half an hour passes just like that but there’s still no sign of seonghwa

that’s okay, you tell yourself

you understand that he doesn’t have a normal office job where he can just clock out and walk away as he wishes

sending him a quick text asking if he is on his way home, you busy yourself with lining up all the utensils on the kitchen counter perfectly parallel, just the way he likes it

the chopsticks

the spatula

the knife

the cooking board

again.

the chopsticks

the spatula

the knife

the cooking board

you glance up at the clock

it’s seven

you tap on your phone to bring the screen to life

no notifications

you try to quell the growing panic inside of you

but you cannot ignore the fact that seonghwa would usually send you a quick message when he is held up by something, especially on a day where he has clearly told you when to expect him home

what if something went wrong?

what if he is hurt?

what if he is missing?

what if he is…dying?

you take a shuddering breath as you pick up your phone again with shaking fingers

7:24 PM

the glare of your screen seems too bright all of a sudden

you press on the first contact of your speed dial, seonghwa’s name popping up, decorated with a little heart that he added himself when he first entered his number into your new phone

the call rings and rings and rings

“the person you have called is not available, please leave a short message after the tone-”

your chest heaves to force oxygen into your lungs

you haven’t had a real reason to contact him yet, not with seonghwa personally keeping you in the loop

but you don’t hesitate to press the second contact on your speed dial

hongjoong greets you with a little surprise, obviously not having expected a call from you, “hey, is everything alright?”

you fight to keep the panic out of your voice as you ask him, “is hwa still there?”

there’s some rustling in the background

“hwa? no, he left almost two hours ago”

your stomach lurches dangerously

you don’t realise you’ve let out a soft whimper until hongjoong is repeating your name over and over again into the phone

“take a breath for me,” he soothes, “what’s wrong?”

“he said he’d be back by six,” your eyes start to well with the tears you’ve been suppressing. “he’s still not home”

hongjoong curses, calling out for the others still at base

then his voice filters through the speakers again, “we’re going to look into this, okay? everything’s going to be fine. you’ve done a good job letting me know”

with reassurances and words of comfort, a promise to call you back in a couple of minutes, hongjoong hangs up the call

yeosang and jongho sidle up to hongjoong on high alert, having heard the end of the conversation

“seonghwa’s missing,” hongjoong grits out, already trying to track down the other’s phone location

san appears in the doorway to the room looking grim

he holds up seonghwa’s phone in his hand, “he forgot to take it with him”

hongjoong curses lowly, “park fucking seonghwa. i swear if he isn’t already dead by now, he will be when i find him”

he tells yunho to hold down the fort at base while he, yeosang and wooyoung trace the route to the apartment you now share with seonghwa

you are unsure how long it will be until hongjoong calls you again

what you do know is that you’re not going to sit around idly while seonghwa could very well be in danger

your mind flashes back to all those times you both stand in the expanse of his living room, coffee table pushed to one side, as he gives you what he coins the ultimate self-hwafense class

he demonstrates and talks you through both defensive and offensive stances and how you can use your size and agility to your advantage

sometimes, he hates that he has to even teach you how to protect yourself

because if it were up to him, he would be your protector forever

but seonghwa knows the dangers of being involved with the mafia and so instead, he gently adjusts your movements, gives you praises when you grasp the concept, and demands kisses when you successfully pin him down

and more often than not, his self-hwafense classes end up in giggles and laughter because there is nothing less intimidating than his sparkling doe-eyes and wide grin as he pretends to act the part of a threatening intruder

just as your fingers brush over the cold steel of the gun hidden underneath the table, your blood runs cold when you hear your doorknob jiggling

it’s not purposeful - it is hesitant, intermittent and careful

exactly how an intruder would open a door

you know you do not have a choice

you have to protect yourself

slinking slowly towards the door and positioning yourself so that the intruder will walk in with their back to you, you grasp the gun in your hand a little tighter with bated breath

the lock clicks open and you watch the knob turning to nudge the door open

your mind screams at you to run and hide as you fight every cell in your body to keep your feet rooted where they are

amongst the fogginess of fear clouding your brain, you have enough sense to wait for the perfect opportunity

…now.

with as much strength as your shaking hands can muster, you slam the butt of your gun against the intruder’s head

hongjoong’s phone vibrates in his hand and he answers the call within the first ring

but before he can even get so much as a word out, he hears your trembling whisper

“hongjoong, he- he’s here”

“shit,” hongjoong says at the same time wooyoung steps harder on the accelerator, “who? are you okay? are you safe?”

“oh no,” your voice becomes harder to hear as the phone slips further away from you, “he’s awake”

“we’re close, hang in there- fuck” hongjoong punches the side of the car door when your call cuts off

wooyoung doesn’t need to be told - he floors the car

the tyres squeal as they pull up to the street of the apartment, wooyoung having just barely turned off the ignition before the three of them are dashing in and bypassing the lift for the stairs

as they reach the door of your apartment, they see that it is nudged open

a sign that cues the three of them to immediately slip out their guns

with hongjoong at the front, they barge in and point their guns at the figures in the living room

“move and i’ll blow your fucking brains out,” he commands

“hongjoong?”

said man falters

that’s not your voice

“the fuck?”

of all things he was prepared for, this was not one of them

because seonghwa is in the living room

sitting on a chair nursing a very bruised head with a sorry bag of frozen peas pressed to it

but it is very much seonghwa, alive and kicking

something on hongjoong’s face must show how much he wants to skin the man and feed him to the sharks because seonghwa grimaces and makes a very poor attempt to break the tension

“surprise?”

wooyoung loses it and keels in on himself with laughter

seonghwa gestures weakly with the hand that is not holding the bag of peas at the inconspicuous paper bag sitting on the kitchen counter, which is looking slightly sad and saggy after he quite literally crumpled on top of it, “i bought donuts?”

when hongjoong exhales the longest sigh known to mankind, pinching the bridge of his nose, you completely understand how he feels

“they’re shaped like reindeers and elves…they’re limited edition…” seonghwa’s voice trails off and you see him visibly wilt like a sunflower in a cave

because as much as he knows and is sorry for making you and the gang worry, he had rushed to line up at that donut shop you have recently fallen in love with because he thought surprising you with the cute christmas donuts would make you smile

well, surprise you he did

it’s not everyday you knock out an intruder, only to find out that it’s actually your boyfriend

“i’m sure they are very cute, hwa,” you tenderly replace his hand on the makeshift ice pack so that he can rest his arm, “thank you”

and you really do mean it

seonghwa perks up at your words and snakes his arm around your waist, tugging you closer until you are basically sitting on his sturdy thigh

he looks haughtily at the other three men, “at least somebody appreciates them”

and then he lets out a yelp as his hands scramble to catch his forgotten phone that hongjoong has tossed at him

“i’ll let you off the hook this time, park seonghwa, but only because it’s christmas and i have better things to be doing. we all do,” the leader makes a move with yeosang and wooyoung to leave

but he seems to think better of it because hongjoong whips around to make one last biting remark

“they better be some fucking good donuts, the best fucking donuts you’ll ever eat”

you and seonghwa dissolve into giggles once the door slams shut behind the trio

“how’s your head feeling now?” you take the bag of peas off and gingerly touch the red bump

“much better,” his eyes twinkle, “all it needs now is your kiss”

you blatantly turn your nose into the air and stand up to grab the bag of donuts, “no kisses. that’s for scaring me”

he grumbles indignantly under his breath like a five year old; nose scrunched up, lip jutted out

you laugh, presenting the bag to him and watching as his demeanor immediately brightens

“well, let’s find out if these are the best fucking donuts we’ll ever eat”

seonghwa opens the bag excitedly, having made it very clear that he wanted to do the honours and present them to you

but then he freezes, mouth opening to form an ‘o’

and then his shoulders sag once more

seonghwa wails

and it all makes sense when you peer into the bag

“the donuts are all squished!”

yunho

“J, can you take a look at my sniper? i think something’s wrong with the scope”

you dog-ear the page of the file you’re scanning through to look up at yunho

“i’m pretty sure i know the least about scopes out of everybod-”

“cause i can’t seem to take my sight off you,” he waggles his eyebrows at you with an overly-smouldering gaze as he leans oh so casually against the doorframe

you swallow the insult that is about to leave your mouth, instead, undoing the dog ear and dutifully continuing from where you left off

unfazed, yunho steps closer towards your table with an excited bounce, “want to see my gun? i’ve got a pretty big one”

you hum, “i’ve seen it plenty times, nothing new”

his eyes crinkle at having received a reaction, which spurs him on further

yunho leans down a little into your space so that you are forced to look up at him, “then can i put my gun in your holster?”

you finally laugh at the crudeness of his words and you hate that he looks utterly pleased with himself

(you don’t really hate it, but you know that he loves flustering you)

(you can pretend if it’s for him)

“remind me again why you’re my boyfriend?”

“cause i shoot my load into you,” he flirts, complete with a wink, finger guns and then a flying kiss that you pretend to snatch out of the air and slam against the ground

immediately, he looks like a puppy whose tail you have just stepped on, so you reach out for his hand and tug him closer with another laugh, turning your body so that you can bury your face into his stomach and wrap your arms around his waist

one of his arms naturally slides over your shoulders to encase you, his other hand running through your hair the way he knows you like it

“what do you want, you big puppy,” your voice comes out muffled

yunho may have claimed you as the J to his PB, but you think he is better nicknamed BP than peanut butter

BP as in Big Puppy

“i miss you,” he admits

you pull away and shake your head, “you see me every day, yunho. we work together”

“yeah, and i’m sick of work cockblocking us,” he says with finality

yunho swipes your files to the side in one smooth motion, clearing the table as he easily lifts you by the waist to perch you on the edge

you barely have time to complain about the files until he is pressing his lips against yours

“i miss you,” he repeats when you break apart to take a breath, “and it’s christmas. relax”

“you talk too much,” you say, grabbing his tie and pulling him in for another kiss

his large hands settle on your waist, just below the hem of your shirt

your back arches from sensitivity when the fingers of his right hand slip under your shirt and slowly trail upwards towards your chest

his other hand snakes behind you to splay across the pretty arch of your back

you loop your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair for purchase

a stuttered moan escapes your lips when he shifts and his thigh brushes against your core

“you like that?” yunho grinds his thigh against you once more, eyes dark as he watches your face contort with pleasure. “bet you’d like to ride my thigh until you cum”

you’re about to hook your legs around his waist when there’s a yell from the doorway

yunho immediately retracts his hands and you rush to tidy the appearance of your top, both of your heads snapping towards the door

wooyoung is there, body already turning back the way he came from with a hand blocking his own view, “can you guys get a room or close the door at least?”

“or you can stop walking in on us,” yunho suggests with a red face

but the younger is already out of earshot, too busy prancing through the rest of the base announcing, “PB&J are fucking in the office again, nobody disturb them!”

yunho rubs the tips of his flushed ears and you pepper one final kiss along his jawline before you bend down to pick up the scattered files from the floor

“don’t tell me you’re going to read your stupid files again,” he groans

“well, reading these stupid files happen to be direct orders from hongjoong,” you retort

“then good thing i’ve already asked him for permission to take you out today”

he snatches the file from your hand and tosses it haphazardly onto the table, quirking an eyebrow teasingly

“what do you mean?”

yunho grabs your hand, leading you towards the door as he tells you excitedly, “let’s go on a date”

and that’s how you find yourself wrapped up in yunho’s coat over the thin sweater you slipped on because nobody told you that you’d be fucking freezing your ass off on the open rooftop of a building on christmas night

it had taken all but three seconds of stepping out onto the rooftop for a shiver to descend through your body from head to toe

“this is a date?” you had groused

yunho had then immediately taken off his coat to wrap around your shoulders as he made a pleased noise of affirmation

“then do tell me why you took your sniper along,” you sniffle a little, compliantly allowing yunho to button you up. “you want me to tell you how sexy you look while you shoot someone through the head?”

yunho grins down at you

“you think i’m sexy when i snipe people?”

you roll your eyes at his selective hearing

(you think he’s always sexy)

at your playful shove, he reaches into his pockets to pull out a pair of earplugs for you

“put them in,” he tells you before you can even ask what they’re for

when you make no move to do so, he gingerly tucks your hair out of the way so that he can put the plugs into your ears

watch me, he gestures with his hands

and then he is perching along the edge of the rooftop, setting up his sniper in front of him and adjusting the scope as he looks down the sight into the far distance

you watch as he applies pressure to the back of the rifle with his broad shoulder, as his slender fingers curl around the trigger, as he closes one eye and exhales a slow breath

then he shoots

you think that he is going to get up and finally tell you what he is doing, except he pulls the bolt back to chamber a new bullet and adjusts the angle of his rifle

and then he shoots again

you catch yourself staring at the veins running across the back of his hand and the way his finger flexes around the trigger

because you know all too well how it feels for his finger to flex in…other places

you lose count of how many times yunho pulls the trigger - at one point, he even reloads a magazine

he has almost finished the second round of bullets before he finally appears to be satisfied, scrambling up and dusting off his knees

with an eager tug once you have taken out your earplugs, he brings you to his sniper that he has left in its place on the floor

“look through the scope!”

you are careful to ease yourself down into a mimic of yunho’s earlier pose, knowing that even the slightest of nudges can displace the target by miles

hovering behind you, he shifts from foot to foot, waiting for you to see it

and when you do, your eyes nearly fall out in surprise

“yunho!” you exclaim, unable to fathom what you are seeing

because yunho has shot a fucking heart shape made out of bullet holes into the side of an abandoned building

“is this meant to be romantic?!”

contrary to your tone, you don’t think you have ever found your deadly 6’1” sniper boyfriend to be more endearing than now

he preens with the widest smile on his face, “yeah!”

you stand up with a matching smile of your own and step closer to pull him into a hug

“i don’t think i’ll be forgetting about this christmas for a while”

“you better not forget about it ever,” he threatens with a harmless tickle to your side

“thank you,” you tell him sincerely, “i love you”

he peppers your face with kisses, “i love you too”

distantly, you hear the sound of sirens, no doubt the sound of gunshots having been reported

“i guess that’s our cue,” he grins, stepping away from you and slinging the sniper over his shoulder

“our cue to do what?” you allow him to lace his fingers through yours

“our cue to fucking leg it”

and so with his hand warmly encasing yours, laughter bubbling out of your chests and cheeks flushing as the first flakes of snow start to fall, you both make a run for it

yeosang

“get some napkins, snacks, cooking oil and maybe a couple of drinks if you can carry it all”

you listen while seonghwa lists off the things you need to get from the shops for the christmas party

it’s nothing huge - just a get together between you, your older brother, hongjoong, and the rest of the ateez gang

yeosang sidles up to you to ask, “ready to go?”

as you smile with a nod and lean into him, hongjoong narrows his eyes from where he’s sitting on a chair

it seems like the two of you have gotten quite…close recently

not that you two weren’t already close before

and granted, hongjoong was the one who raised hell to ensure yeosang followed you everywhere as your bodyguard

except you and yeosang are getting a little too chummy for his liking

but then you’re giving seonghwa a quick goodbye peck on the cheek and you are turning around to look at your brother with that damned smile of yours to ask if he is coming along too, and hongjoong thinks that he’s just looking into things a bit too much

“yeah,” hongjoong gets up from his seat, “let’s go”

once your little trio makes it to the mart, you decide to divide and conquer the items on seonghwa’s shopping list

you’ve just grabbed a packet of napkins when someone suddenly tugs you down one of the aisles

the squeal of surprise that comes out of you quickly turns into an exasperated laugh seeing that it’s just yeosang

he’s looking at you with his sparkling eyes and expectant smile

“you’re hopeless,” you tell him because you know exactly what he wants

“hopelessly in love,” he corrects you, still waiting with an eager expression

you hiss his name and frantically look around to make sure your brother isn’t around before you relent and press a chaste kiss against the corner of his lips

yeosang immediately blushes and tries to hide the smile on his face like he didn’t literally just kidnap you into a shopping aisle demanding for kisses

you always find his bashfulness endearing though, so you rest your hands on his shoulders to balance on your tiptoes and quickly pepper several more kisses over the apples of his cheeks, the tip of his nose and the sharp of his jawline

“i don’t think santa needs rudolph this year,” you tap his nose affectionately, “you’re much brighter”

as you watch yeosang grow even redder at your statement, you wonder how this is the same man who will move heaven and earth to protect you

“y/n? yeosang?”

hongjoong’s voice is frighteningly close and you’re pretty sure he is just in the next aisle over

grabbing the first thing that you see, you clutch the item and the napkins to your chest and walk out to meet your brother

“there you two are,” hongjoong frowns, “what took you two so long?”

you reach out and touch his elbow in apology, “sorry, joong. i needed help finding the plastic plates”

except hongjoong doesn’t think you two are very sorry at all, because not only did he pay, but the backpack stuffed full with the shopping bags is now on his back

“why am i carrying the backpack,” he complains, looking at you and yeosang already mounted on the latter’s motorbike

yeosang smiles innocently and jerks his head back in your direction, “i’ve already got a cute little backpack”

“well that cute little backpack also happens to be my sister so shouldn’t she sit behind me- hey!”

you press yourself closer against yeosang’s back, both of you breaking out into laughter as he revs his bike and leaves hongjoong behind in the dust

your brother flips the bird at your backs, grumbling colourfully under his breath as he twists the throttle on his own motorbike to catch up to you two

and for someone who prides himself in being an observant mafia boss, it takes hongjoong many, many days to belatedly realise that plastic plates were never even part of the shopping list

yeosang gently takes your helmet from out of your grasp and tames an unruly strand of your hair that has become ruffled as you two walk back inside, bypassing seonghwa hanging a wreath on the front door

the eldest watches you two for a moment, seemingly in thought, before he picks up something else to hang up

that’s how, when hongjoong arrives a few minutes later with the shopping, he runs into seonghwa fixing mistletoe to the doorframe of the kitchen

“mistletoe?” hongjoong questions as he places the bags onto the countertop, “the fuck for?”

seonghwa shrugs vaguely, “the couples”

“the only couple i see is the couple of losers over there”

hongjoong stares pointedly into the living room, where san is starting to wriggle under the weight of the ornaments balancing on the top of his head and shoulders and hanging off his ears and fingers, courtesy of wooyoung who is currently yelling out stay still!

except the ornaments all come tumbling off in a flurry of movement when yunho thunders past them, mingi in tow

“snowball fight!!”’

it’s not snowing heavily but there’s a layer of snow thick enough for all nine of you to stumble outside in glee

and as it turns out, yeosang is very serious about his job as your bodyguard

even during snowball fights

jongho and yunho have formed some sort of alliance, so by an unspoken agreement, pretty much everyone else has teamed up in hopes of defeating the formidable pair

(no one’s entirely sure which side mingi is playing for, but he’s having fun scooping handfuls of snow and dumping them onto people, which is all that matters)

hongjoong is busy fending off wooyoung’s snowballs - another person who has broken the unofficial alliance - so yeosang stays close to you

he alternates between adding fresh ammo to your snowball pile and blocking any snowballs that are thrown around

it doesn’t matter if they’re thrown in your direction or not; if yeosang sees a snowball, then he is ready to keep it far, far away from you

somehow, amidst all the chaos, yunho manages to unearth a whole slab of snow that is still intact

he cackles evilly as he lifts it above his head and hurls it somewhere into the centre of the whole group

now, the deadly snow slab is nowhere even close to landing on you

but again, yeosang takes his job as your bodyguard - and boyfriend - very, very seriously

he makes a dive in your direction to take the hit and the angels up in heaven blow their trumpets in celebration when he knocks you over instead and you two fall into the snow together

he lands on top of you, arms bracing himself as he encases your frame underneath him

you’re a little winded - the breath has been knocked out of you, you want to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, and also yeosang looks extremely stunning

you can see every single snowflake that has fluttered down and clung onto his long lashes and soft hair, and it certainly doesn’t help that he’s looking at you with the most tender eyes

“merry christmas,” he murmurs with a smile, “i love you”

the sounds of snowballs breaking and consequent screeches mute themselves into the background, the crystal petals falling from the sky blurring in slow motion as yeosang dips down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss

one of his hands cradles your face gingerly as you sigh into the kiss, almost as if he is afraid you will melt and seep into the snow

jongho is about to take the opportunity to pelt yeosang’s exposed back with snowballs, but pauses his deadly pitch when he sees that the older is actually a little…preoccupied right now

he realises very quickly that not only have you two caught his attention, but you’ve also managed to grab hongjoong’s attention

said man squints his eyes at who he thinks is yeosang and…you?

you’re both awfully close together in a heap on the ground and hold the fuck up are you two kissing?

right before hongjoong can rub his eyes and take a closer look, a snowball is smashed to smithereens against his face

hacking snow out of his mouth, he searches furiously for the culprit, eyes landing on jongho who is staring right back at him with his hand still pitched forward from throwing the snowball

why jongho looks flustered, hongjoong has no idea

but it’s not like hongjoong can take on the younger anyway so he chooses to ignore the snowball and looks back in your direction

…where you and yeosang are both lying on your backs making snow angels

hongjoong frowns, rationalising that the kiss had just been a glitch in his imagination

because surely he would’ve noticed ages ago if you and yeosang were indeed dating

seeing as the leader shrugs it off and drops to the ground to shovel an enormous snowball with renewed vigour, jongho lets out a sigh of relief

that is

until wooyoung very helpfully points out, “why are yeosang’s lips all glossy”

you and yeosang freeze mid-snow angel

like zombies in a horror film, you and yeosang slowly sit up with unease creeping through your bodies as you both look towards your brother

his back is turned, body eerily still

most of the other members have also frozen, snowballs still clutched in their hands as their knowing pupils waver

then mingi also helpfully tacks on, “it looks like he kissed y/n or something”

at his words, hongjoong’s arms start to move again

he does not turn around yet, simply hums and says, “interesting”

yeosang nudges you with an elbow and theatrically whispers, “if we leg it right now, do you think it will notice”

it starts to stand up from its crouching position

“...i think it will, yeo”

hongjoong finally turns around and you can see that, similar to yunho not too long ago, he is carrying a huge slab of intact snow in his hands

what’s different is that hongjoong is most definitely not smiling

you have a feeling that he is going to be putting a new definition to snowball fight

hongjoong approaches with his snow weapon

“snowballs?” he shakes his head mockingly with a frighteningly blank expression

“after today,” his gaze drops down pointedly towards yeosang’s nether region, “no balls”

san

you don’t need to rely on your past experience working in an underground casino for you to know what the odds of your current gamble are

you are a mouse walking into the lion’s den

the last time you were with crescent - the mafia gang you had been brought into and was supposedly your family for almost a decade - you were wrongfully accused as being a traitor and had nearly lost your life

now here you are, walking back into crescent’s base with your own two feet just a mere few weeks later

and yet, you are not afraid

your former gang does not know, but tonight, you are the dealer of this poker game

minsu, crescent’s mob boss, leers at the sight of you entering the small building

they do not have many affiliates, having kept their numbers small over the years, but most of them have gathered together for drinks tonight

you already knew this, though

you have chosen to confront them on christmas for a reason

“ahh, merry christmas, darling,” minsu drawls saccharinely, “has santa answered my wishes for a personal slut?”

his words do not register in your ears when your eyes involuntarily flit over to the back of the room

there’s a face sitting in the corner that haunts you

the day you were labelled a traitor, you had been accompanying your capo to make a trade deal with a relatively new gang

the boss of the gang who is currently sitting in the same room as the rest of crescent, comfortable smirk on his face like he wants to show you that he is where he belongs

you realise now that it was a set-up all along

there was no deal to be made and there was no emerging gang

it was - is - crescent against you

looking back at minsu now, you address him, “why did you betray me”

he pretends to look appalled, one hand perched daintily against his chest as his jaw drops

“we saw the way you were getting closer to choi san of ateez,” he spits out san’s name, “and after you betrayed crescent during the trade, you ran pathetically to his doorstep like a damsel in distress, which only proved our suspicions”

he states it so believably, as if your loyalty wavered and led to your own inevitable downfall

it’s all bullshit though

you and san have never interacted outside of the negotiations your gangs made with each other

without anywhere to go after crescent had backstabbed you, only then had you sought san’s help

“so what are you doing back here, darling?” minsu stands up

he stalks closer towards you with fake pity plastered across his face, “to beg for forgiveness? to beg for us to spare your little boyfriend’s life?”

the flicker of fury inside of you is quickly growing into an inferno at minsu’s mocking tone

but before it starts to consume you, a new voice enters the fray

“i don’t think we’ll be the ones begging by the end of the night”

a figure steps in and you hear the sound of metal buckles scraping against the ground as a limp, bloodied body is also dragged along

the person comes to a stop beside you before they toss the body in their grasp carelessly to one side

the familiar lilt of their teasing reaches you

“hey, sweetheart”

the inferno inside you smothers itself out at their words

“choi san,” minsu snarls, hackles now raised at the unforeseen addition of his presence

the rest of crescent also seem to become restless, shifting on the edge of their seats or making a move to stand up

because they’re not foolish

they know san’s reputation for ruthlessness, particularly when someone has wronged him

and by extension-

more footsteps resound behind you

-the rest of ateez

you may be a mouse walking into the lion’s den

but when you have poachers behind your back, it becomes your den

minsu’s face finally drains of all blood when he realises the deep shit he has landed himself in

and so do several others, it seems

you wince slightly in embarrassment when a handful of his men scramble up from their seats and push past the ateez members surrounding you to run out of the building

for a moment, no one dares to breathe as they watch you and ateez with trepidation

san simply raises a brow as his eyes narrow with disinterest

the sounds of the cowards’ feet striking the pavement once they make it out onto the street are suddenly replaced by the crack of gunshots and the distinct thump of flesh falling to the ground

from somewhere up high, yunho chambers another bullet as he stares down the scope of his sniper with impassivity

“anyone else want to give that a try?” san taunts

no one answers

hongjoong finally emerges from the flanks and almost immediately, the already-frigid atmosphere drops another several degrees

“a gang of members who have no qualms betraying their own will only end up destroying themselves eventually,” he calmly approaches minsu, who shuffles backwards in response

hongjoong continues, “as much as crescent isn’t worth my time, i don’t really feel like waiting for that day to come”

before anyone can react, he swipes a glass bottle from one of the tables and swings it across minsu’s head

the latter stumbles backwards in shock with a hand flying up to stem the blood flow coming from his temple

ateez do not need a further command

all at once, the members jump forward bloodthirsty for vengeance, save for san, who grabs a chair that mingi has quite literally tossed a person off and brings it over for you to sit on

he winks as he quips, “we’ll probably be on santa’s naughty list this year, but maybe if you just watch you’ll get away with it, sweetheart”

san knows you can hold your own in a fight, but he also knows that your ribs are still sore and bruised

so he waits until you sit with a laugh before he turns around to face the others

he doesn’t really care about most of the crescent lackeys

he knows hongjoong and the rest of ateez will wipe them out fine

who he really cares about is that bastard who pretended to lead the fake gang

and that motherfucker minsu

san is going to make them regret hurting you

san is going to make them wish they were never born

he advances towards them with deceptive calmness

minsu is slumped against a table, still licking at his wounds pathetically

he’s only alive because none of the members have bothered with him

san leaves him for the time being and takes out a dagger as he advances upon the nameless member who had duped you

easily evading the man’s frantic punch, san responds by slamming the hilt of his dagger against the other’s temple

the man goes crashing down and minsu tries to scramble away from them in fear

“i would cut your tongue off, since you spew so many fucking lies,” san grips the man’s jaw hard enough that his fingers turn white, “but i don’t want to touch your filthy mouth”

instead, san drags the dagger across the gang member’s throat

blood rapidly gurgles out of the wound as the man’s fingers make futile attempts to grasp san’s hands, but very quickly, he attempts to stem the blood flow instead

but a fence can only hold a dam back for so long

san shoves him aside and lunges for minsu

“your turn,” san smirks

whipping out his pistol, san flicks the safety off and shoots minsu’s hand as the latter lets out a primal shriek of pain

san shoots again, this time at his other hand, once more, through his calf, once more, through his stomach

minsu swears to the high heavens in between wails and howls, begging for san to stop

“what did i say,” san places a foot on his stomach wound and pushes down, “it wouldn’t be me or my sweetheart begging tonight”

minsu’s animalistic cries are silenced with a final gunshot

san exhales and makes his way back to where you are still seated to reassure, “you’ll never have to worry about crescent ever again”

“thank you, san,” you sink into his embrace

you’ll thank the rest of ateez later, but for now, you focus on the man in front of you

“i said that i would protect you, didn’t i, sweetheart?”

he gathers your face in his hands and thumbs the round of your cheeks sweetly

you nod in his grasp, blinking up at him through your eyelashes

“i want to kiss you,” san suddenly confesses, “can i kiss you?”

a teasing smile tugs at your lips, “it’s christmas. shouldn’t you kiss me under a mistletoe?”

san looks up to check, as if he really thinks that a mafia gang’s base would have mistletoe hanging from the ceiling

when he confirms that indeed there is not, his eyes wander around the room for a substitute until something appears to pique his interest

you watch as he unsheathes another dagger from his belt and points it in the direction of minsu’s body

“i can cut his foot off,” san tells you with determination, “then we’d have a minsu-toe”

amidst the last of the fighting amongst the room, someone overhears and chortles at san’s words

“i can’t believe you,” you let out your own laugh

“so…” san beams, “is that a yes?”

“fuck the mistletoe,” you laugh as you pull him forward, “just kiss me already”

and kiss you he does

mingi

for the first time ever, you think you hate the snow

even if it’s christmas eve today and it’s the first snowfall of the year

you had been prepared for a peak in business at your little bar, the mist, but with the sudden onset of heavy snowfall and a rapid drop in temperature, you’ve barely had any customers

admittedly, you are used to slow business considering there is a much larger bar, the chilli peppers, just across the street

but not even your few, regular customers have shown up today nor for the past few weeks

you’ve scanned the outside of your bar several times already, each time unfruitful as you are met with an empty street save for the falling snow and soft glow of the streetlamps

sighing, you decide to look out once more before making yourself a mixed drink when you spot a figure walking up to your doors

your breath hitches when you recognise who it is

it’s him

the handsome stranger who, you suppose, is not really a stranger anymore

it has been almost two months since he first took refuge in your bar while being chased by another gang

his visits since have been rare and infrequent, but they will always span late into the early hours of dawn when he does

“hey,” mingi softly greets you as he steps into your bar, a shy smile adorning his face

your stomach flutters as you stand up from your stool, “mingi, hi, hey, i wasn’t expecting you to come today”

you internally cringe at your own words

you hope he doesn’t pick up on the connotation that you wait for him to come on other days

he peers around hesitantly at your words, “should i, uh, go?”

one of your hands reach out in his direction before you even realise what you’re doing

“no- i meant,” you lick your lips, “it’s a nice surprise”

mingi’s shoulders relax

“i heard some areas lost power because of the snow,” he starts to explain, “so i thought i’d come to check on you- your bar”

your heart grows warm at his seemingly nonchalant words

fighting back a blush, you gesture around your bar, “well, i still got power-”

just as it fizzles and dies

the steady hum of the heater in the background of your bar also halts, creating a world of both darkness and silence

startled, you jump slightly

you can hardly see him in front of you as your eyes struggle to adjust to the gloom, yet mingi’s hand naturally finds your searching ones

he slips your smaller hand into his, gently squeezing and rubbing a thumb over your knuckles as he soothes, “i’ve got you”

you let out a nervous chuckle, not because you feel awkward but because it feels so natural to be soothed by his touch, and he reciprocates with his own soft laugh

“well,” you look up at him, “looks like business is closed for the night”

his eyebrows knit together in concern, “are you sure? i can call someone to get your power back up and running. i know a person”

he scratches the back of his neck as he continues to ramble, “or they could probably fix your whole area…yeah that’s a better idea, wouldn’t want you getting singled out or anything”

you’re not sure whether to be endeared or to be impressed by his connections

“you can do that?!” you gawk

mingi blinks twice as if to say, you can’t?

laughing, you shake your head and pat his hand that’s still holding yours to tell him that it’s okay

“i wasn’t getting customers anyway,” you reassure

selfishly, mingi is glad that you weren’t busy

because it means that he can have you all to himself

“do you want to stay for a bit?” you offer, “it’s probably not safe to leave with all the snow”

mingi is a member of a mafia gang

snow is the least of his worries

but he nods solemnly in agreement anyway

he thinks that his heart cannot squeeze with any more fondness at your concern until you carefully tug him forward by the hand to lead him up the stairs at the back of your bar, murmuring that there’s another step and the doorway’s a little low

it doesn’t matter that you’ve seen him being pursued by other gang members, or that he smells like gunpowder and has a pistol hidden on him - you still look out for him and mingi has to fight the urge to pull you into a hug

instead, he grips your hand a little tighter under the guise of not knowing where he should be stepping

in reality, he wants to make sure that he can keep you steady should you be the one to trip

usually, when the power cuts out like this, you will simply bury yourself under your covers until you fall asleep

but it seems like it’s a common occurrence now - when mingi is by your side, sleep is easy to forget

so you take him to the small room you’ve leased above your bar and it is as though you have both rediscovered the innocent joys of life

hushed giggles are shared as you rifle through your storage and take turns lighting up the stubborn candles you have found

you nudge him as he nudges you back over where to scatter the candles around the room for maximum brightness, both of you falling into another bout of laughter when a particularly hard nudge ends up snuffing the candles in your hands

mingi takes out his phone and creates a playlist of cheesy christmas songs that he lets run in the background

grabbing your hands, he twirls you around the cramped space of your living room as you flush with joy

you shyly let him lead you through his silly little dances, but very quickly, you are both spinning and jumping and swaying barefoot to the music as the candle flames flicker in tandem all around you

the excitement teeters off slowly as the playlist transitions to slower instrumentals and you realise that without the heating on, your room is starting to become freezing

mingi is first to notice, attuned to the way a quick shiver racks your body

“come here,” he says, arms already moving before he can think better of it

he grabs the blanket that covers the back of your small couch and throws half of it over himself, one arm extending the rest of it so that he can wrap it around your form too

mingi slowly rubs his hands up and down the sides of your arms as he shuffles the two of you over to sink down onto the couch

you have to remind yourself to keep breathing, even as his every touch leaves behind a trail of goosebumps and electricity

“better?” he asks after a while

untrusting of your voice, you nod instead whilst clearing your throat, trying not to chase the feeling of his embrace when he retracts his arms from around you

silence falls upon you two

it’s not uncomfortable

but with the lack of noise to distract you, you are acutely aware of his close proximity and the warmth that he emits from your side

“it’s pretty, isn’t it,” he muses, gaze focused on the falling snow outside the window

“it is…”

…with you here

“you know what they say about the first snowfall of the year?” he nudges you softly

you chew on your bottom lip

shyly, you offer, “that if you confess your love it becomes true,” at the exact same time mingi says-

“that you shouldn’t eat the snow for the first hour or two”

you quickly cough and splutter out a question to cover up your statement, “h-how come?”

“the snow absorbs all the bad stuff in the air when it first falls”

the grin on his face makes you think that he may have heard your answer after all

slightly embarrassed, you avert your gaze and fumble for something to say

mingi saves you though

he points at the clock that has just ticked past midnight

“merry christmas, y/n,” he says tenderly

“merry christmas, mingi”

you relish in the moment, not wanting this night to end

“did you have anything you wanted for christmas?” you ask him

he hums in affirmation, slowly mulling over his next words before he answers, “there was someone i wanted to see”

he’s looking ahead, and from where you’re sitting next to him, shoulders brushing with each slight movement, the warm glow of the candles accentuates the sharp slopes of his side profile

you’ve noted this before, but in this moment mingi is beautiful

“did…did you get to see them?” you’re unsure why you’re holding your breath in anticipation

he doesn’t answer straight away

there’s a beat of silence

then he’s slowly turning his head with a gentle smile

“yeah,” he breathes out, looking at you with his soft, round eyes, “yeah, i did”

with your rosy cheeks and bashful expression, mingi cannot help himself

he confesses

“and i still am”

wooyoung

wooyoung very naturally reaches across the counter with the barcode scanner so that he can align the laser with your id badge

he hums happily as your employee discount is applied to the bag of chips he is purchasing

at this point, you don’t even bat an eye

he has long made himself at home in your convenience store whenever you work the night shift

“so,” wooyoung says as he finishes ringing up the price, “why are you working on christmas eve?”

you tilt your head, confused

“why shouldn’t i be working on christmas eve? and why aren’t you working? don’t you need to manage all your lackeys at the boxing rings?”

“no? because it’s christmas eve? everyone takes the week off,” he frowns as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world

you didn’t realise the mafia celebrated christmas too

apparently you say that out loud, because he is suddenly crossing his arms

…a little too defensively for you to take him seriously

“i didn’t know you were the mafia police,” he grumbles, “you gonna pull out a handbook and tell me that section 3.2 bans christmas for the mafia?”

you chuckle as you attempt to appease the childlike fire in his eyes, “sorry, you guys just seem like-”

you think better of your words and pause

“seem like what?”

“nothing”

“what? tell me what you were going to say!”

he pounces on you, attempting to bite your forearm as you squeal and relent

“you guys seem like the type to beat santa up, not celebrate his existence”

he stares at you

you stare at him

“you have three seconds to run,” he tells you

and run you do

filled with glee, you dash out from behind the counter and weave through the narrow aisles in a circle, wooyoung hot on your heels with his own matching shrieks

you both collapse in a fit of uncontrollable laughter when he suddenly switches direction and you end up running straight into his arms

sitting on the dirty floor of your convenience store during the quiet hours of night, your eyes teary from how hard you and wooyoung are laughing, you do not think there is a better way to spend your christmas eve

“i get paid almost double for working today,” you explain when you have both settled back behind the counter, sharing the bag of snacks he paid for earlier

you toss a chip in the air for wooyoung to catch as you continue, “plus, i can’t just take holidays when i want to”

it bounces off his forehead and he fumbles to catch it before it hits the ground

“why not?”

“because my boss won’t let me”

“oh. that’s it?”

“tHaT’s iT? shut the fuck up,” you shove a chip into his mouth as he sniggers

he excuses himself to make a quick call, so you take the opportunity to finish off the remainder of the snacks

hah.

this time, when he walks back in and sees the empty packet, he does bite you

and he makes you buy him another bag as compensation

(honestly, he should be buying you snacks because if you’re honest, you’re pretty sure he has enough money to buy your store and the whole chain)

you’re sharing the second bag of chips - read as: wooyoung being petty and hogging the snacks - when the store is suddenly plunged into dimness for a split second

you look up, blinking as you watch the lights flicker once, twice, and then completely die out with a fizzle

there’s still enough light coming from the frozen section as the standby generator kicks in for you to make out the inside of the store and wooyoung’s raised eyebrow

then the door chimes, alerting you to the arrival of customers

…or not-customers, you suppose

honestly, you should really be used to this by now

two men saunter in with shoulders squared like they own the place

you take one look at their balaclavas and the pistols in their hands and deduce that, “they wouldn’t happen to be some of your friends, right?”

wooyoung steps a little closer to whisper back, “nope”

“well, fuck. you going to do something about them or what?”

“are you kidding me? they’ve got guns”

“you’re part of the mafia. you’re telling me you don’t have one on you?”

he has the fucking nerve to flirt with you as he flexes his arms

“the only guns i got are these bad boys”

the men point their guns threateningly and wooyoung has the common sense to pipe down, both of you raising your hands cautiously

“get in the car,” one of them snarls

wooyoung moves after a split moment of hesitation, arms still raised as he walks towards the door

he looks back at you to see if you are following along, as if you two are taking a walk in the park and not being kidnapped at literal gunpoint

you’re going to roundhouse kick his head off once you make it out of this alive

his stupid gang better be real good at finding people

the kidnappers usher you and wooyoung into the back of a car, a very nice one you must say

it’s spacious and well-cushioned

at least the trip to whatever warehouse or abandoned building they take you to will be a comfy one

the door locks click and you hit the headrest behind you when the driver steps on the accelerator

“jesus christ! can you drive any faster?” wooyoung yells

you jerk your head sideways to look at him in horror

what is he thinking, provoking the armed men like that?

the man in the passenger seat must also share the same thought, because he whips his head around dangerously fast to stare at wooyoung

oh shit shit shit-

he raises a hand

he’s going to shoot wooyoung-

and pulls off his mask

“that’s not what you were saying when you called us 15 minutes ago, wooyoung”

“san?!” you screech in recognition

“hi again, darling,” san greets you with a sweet, dimpled smile, as if everything is okay

the driver also takes off their mask and he looks at you through the rearview mirror as he introduces himself, “hi, i’m mingi!”

you are absolutely incredulous

“you staged a whole fucking kidnapping for fun?”

wooyoung looks overjoyed, “so you can enjoy christmas eve!”

you’re not sure whether you want to laugh or cry at the ridiculousness of the situation

“you do realise the police are going to interrogate me, right?”

“don’t worry. jongho has connections with the police,” san reassures you

“what about the security footage?”

“hongjoong jammed the feed so there’s none,” mingi pipes up

“my boss is going to find out when he comes to check the morning shift”

“nah,” wooyoung waves away your concern this time, “he’ll be out of commission for a solid week or so”

now that catches your attention

sighing, you pinch the bridge of your nose as you close your eyes and ask very calmly, “what did you guys do to my boss?”

wooyoung lets out a weak chuckle as he presses himself a little closer to the car door; a little further away from you

“yeosang may have, uh, knocked him out”

at your silence, he scrambles to redeem the situation, tugging at the end of your shirt for forgiveness, “we made sure to give your boss a pillow for his neck while he’s out cold!”

“you’re insufferable,” you tell him, starting to feel exhilarated from the whole situation

“just for you,” wooyoung puckers his lips teasingly

you sigh to conceal the smile that is starting to creep onto your face, but you are weak for him and he knows, so you don’t pull away when he laces his fingers through your hand

“merry christmas eve,” he beams at you

there’s the faint sound of someone gagging

wooyoung’s adoring gaze doesn’t leave you, not even as he kicks the back of san’s chair hard

you laugh, truly happy and free, “you know i’m still going to get fired for this, right?”

there’s silence

“well,” wooyoung contemplates

and for a split second, you think he is going to offer you a solution for the mess he made

but then again, what did you expect from wooyoung

“does this mean we get to spend christmas together then?”

jongho

jongho has one hand in the pocket of his slacks

his stance is relaxed, even as his other hand aims the gun at the police officers in front of him

they cower despite the abundance of money piled on the table before them and the stars and service strips that decorate their uniforms

after all, what use is dirty money and corrupt power in the face of death?

pathetic

their pleas for mercy fall on deaf ears

several gunshots ring out, followed by the thud of bodies dropping to the ground

elsewhere, you notice that it’s nearly time for you to clock out

it’s christmas eve and you are not spending a minute longer than you need to here in this hellhole

double checking that your badge is somewhere in your bag, you make a move to leave the police station when there is a sudden influx of noise

pagers beep, phones ring, voices shout

your ears perk up to catch the conversation and you hear the same few names leaving the lips of the police officers around you

the blood coursing through your veins freezes

because you know these names

these names have been burned into your brain, only recently, but still to the point where you can see them clearly whenever you close your eyes

they’re all officials in positions of high power, spending their days in air-conditioned offices and not actually doing anything apart from accepting bribes

but the thing that truly links them together - the secret that quite possibly, of the people in the station right now, only you’ve discovered through your connections - is that they are all involved in covering up the death of an officer five years ago

your father’s death

jongho and his gang have made sure that your father’s murderer has paid the price with his own life-

“all killed?!” you hear the police of chief gush with disbelief

-as have the corrupt officers who buried your father’s case, so it seems

a sense of calm settles over you

the clock tells you that it’s now three minutes past the end of your shift

the news is not a bad note to end on before your two-day christmas break

you sling your bag over your shoulder while the rest of the officers continue to speculate with nervous energy

the police force had no qualms turning their back on you years ago, so neither do you on them

you leave

when you make your way home, back to the modest apartment you now share with jongho, you are greeted by the smell of a cooking meal and the warmth of the blasting heater

you enter the open kitchen whilst removing your scarf

jongho is there in his suit, his coat slung over the back of a chair, tossing an assortment of diced vegetables into a pot of boiling soup

his sleeves have been rolled up to his elbows and you feel your throat go a little dry when the muscles along his forearm flex as he holds up the chopping board

you notice there are streaks of dried blood across his sleeves

and you would be concerned about the blood if this weren’t such a common occurrence

you know now that it’s never his own

when he notices your quiet presence, jongho turns to look at you the same way he always does whenever you come home from work

like he can never quite believe that you’re here with him after so many years apart

he greets you, smiling with anticipation, “did you like my christmas present?”

your mind flashes back to the frenzied panic at the station just earlier

“that was you?” 

the smirk you receive is more than enough of an answer to your question

“you didn’t have to, jongho,” but despite your words, you walk over appreciatively into his outstretched arms

“of course i did,” he shushes you with a deep kiss as his arms wrap around you tightly. “nobody messes with my girl”

his words send a hot rush right through your body

the corner of his lips quirks as he feels you squirm a little in his hold

“cop or not,” he nudges your head to the side so he has easy access to nip at your throat, “you’re mine to protect”

you fist the front of his shirt in an attempt to hold back a needy whine, instead, letting out a shaky breath that does little to hide how affected you are

in a last-ditch effort to take control of the situation, you take a step back and reach into the side pocket of your uniform to pull out your handcuffs

“too bad this cop is going to arrest you for murder,” you joke

jongho cannot help but smile at the cocky facade you put on when your cheeks are so clearly flushed

he brings his wrists together in front of him and offers his hands to you

“are you going to frisk me too, officer?”

when you swallow, now silent, jongho continues, “i might be armed with something that could…destroy you”

a shiver of excitement runs through you and it doesn’t go unnoticed

he steps forward to close the gap between you both, one hand reaching for the handcuffs hanging loosely from your grasp

jongho pauses when his fingers touch the cool metal, waiting for you to look at him properly

you see his eyes darting between your own as he searches for any signs of discomfort or hesitation

can i?

you let go of the handcuffs so that they are in his hold alone

yes

his gaze turns predatory almost immediately

“my turn,” he rasps lowly

he flips you around so that you face the kitchen counter, grabbing your arms and holding them behind you

you are pliant under his touch, but you cannot deny that it turns you on when he is a little rougher with you

jongho cuffs your wrists together and he waits as you tug on them experimentally

you feel the flutter of his fingertips dancing around where the metal surrounds your wrists

“is this okay?” he asks, voice gentle again

you reassure him, “yeah, more than okay,” before you emphasise your words by grinding your ass back against him

he tuts with a chuckle as he stands steady behind you, allowing you to use his rapidly-hardening cock for stimulation while his hands rest on your waist

it’s not enough though

“touch me, please,” you breathe out

“please, who?” he teases, hands sliding up and down your sides but never adding any pressure

your thighs clench because you know exactly what he wants

“please, officer,” you beg

“see, that wasn’t so hard,” jongho whispers right into your ear

the buttons on your uniform blouse are suddenly undone and in one swift motion, he yanks your bra down to expose your breasts

his fingers find your nipples easily, familiar with every inch of your body, and you let out a gasp of pleasure when he pinches them

he pins your hips against the countertop with his own, clothed bulge pressing firmly into you

your cuffed hands scrabble to find purchase when he nudges your legs open with his thigh

but then all of a sudden, his heated touches and wandering hands disappear

the whine you let out at the loss of his presence is almost pathetic as you twist your head around to look for him

“give me a second, baby, i just need to,” he steps over to the bubbling pot of soup and twists the knob down on the stove, “adjust the fire”

you bend forward onto the countertop, exposing the wet patch that you are sure has started to show on the crotch of your pants

“jongho,” you start to beg again, “i want to cum”

“i know, baby, but i don’t want to burn our house down and i want to make sure i get to feed you dinner,” he strides back to you in two quick steps

“now that that’s sorted,” he turns your body around so that you’re facing him, “i think it’s time for my appetiser”

he swiftly tugs your pants and panties down, kneeling to tap on your ankles lightly, a silent request for you to step out of your clothes

he tosses them to one side before his hands come back up to grip either of your thighs so that he can spread your legs

you brace your cuffed hands against the edge of the countertop behind you

it’s not the most comfortable position to be in, but then jongho is using his fingers to spread your pussy apart and your ability to form any coherent thought leaves your body

he blows lightly on your clit, enjoying the way you flinch at the sensation

“look at you,” he drags a fingertip at an agonisingly slow pace through your folds, “already so wet when i’ve barely even touched you”

he holds you still when you try to grind down on his finger

“use your words, baby,” he grins up at you with a smug expression

“i need y-”

he cuts your words right off by attaching his lips to your clit, drawing out a strangled cry of pleasure from you

you feel the long-awaited stretch of your pussy as jongho foregoes one finger and plunges two digits straight into your hole

“fuck!” the curse slips out of you when he sucks and licks your clit in time with the thrusts of his fingers scissoring in and out of you

he curls a finger and your knees very nearly buckle from under you, your back arching as jongho groans against your pussy and continues to abuse the sensitive spot he has found

a pressure starts to build in your core

“i’m close,” you manage to choke out

you miss the moment jongho briefly removes his lips to glance to his side, replacing his mouth with a thumb to rub harsh circles against your clit, before he tells you, “not yet, baby”

“i can’t, jongho, please, let me cum,” you plead

“wait, hang in there a little longer. i know you can,” yet despite his words, he shoves his fingers up harder with renewed vigour

you almost sob from desperation, “wait for fucking what?! your dick isn’t even in me!”

“just a little longer, baby,” he reassures you as your thighs shake around him

you can’t do it anymore

you have to cum

you have to-

“cum,” he simply says, before reattaching his mouth to your clit

your orgasm rips through you and you cannot do anything but tremble and shudder under the administrations of his tongue and fingers

jongho holds you through it all, milking out your orgasm until its very last waves-

just as the timer on the stove goes off

“what the fuck?” you blurt out

your mind is still hazy from pleasure but you’re pretty fucking sure he just timed your orgasm with the stove

jongho licks his fingers with a brazen smile and then goes over to peer into his pot of soup

after he gives it a final stir, he turns the fire off completely and places a lid on the top to keep it warm

you watch, rendered speechless

except when he turns back around, you stay silent for a completely different reason

he eyes you hungrily as he strips his tie and unbuttons his dress shirt

“round two, baby”

he grabs your cuffed hands and guides you towards your shared bedroom, then fishes out the keys from your blouse

you welcome the feeling of jongho unlocking your handcuffs for a moment of rest

settling against the head of the bed, you watch as jongho fully sheds his shirt and lets it drop to the ground

he unzips his slacks and his cock springs free, the bulbous head a tantalising pink as he easily strokes himself to full erection

your pussy clenches desperately around nothing in anticipation and jongho watches your own arousal leak out

he gathers your wrists together once more and pins them above you, handcuffing you to the headboard as you completely submit to him

jongho leans over you and encases your smaller frame with his muscular build

his voice is low and teasing

“you have the right to remain silent,” he says as he aligns his girthy length with your entrance, “but i doubt you will”

[cheollipop]

⚜ 𝙤𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣

navi | taglist

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

w.c.: 6.5k

genre: mafia au, smut, mutual pining, some fluff, tiny bit of angst, some dark themes, slightly ambiguous ending

In a city where the mere whisper of his name sent shivers of terror through its core, Choi San's barbarous reputation proved powerless to dissuade you from delving deeper, the glint in the feline eyes cast upon you exposing a sliver tenderness hidden beneath the façade of bloodlust.

⚜ warnings: mentioned death/murder (no one significant), insensitivity from all major characters to said murder, san is lowkey psychotic, and an asshole, reader is a badass bitch, gun play (kinda?), service/soft dom!san, bratty!reader, unprotected sex (👎), kinda public sex, exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, creampie, begging, praise, some cockwarming, san gets whiny, he is whipped your honour, not your typical mafia boss ehehe, nicknames (baby, darling; sannie), I believe that's it. ^^

⚜ A/N: this is entirely self-indulgent. who doesn't want a psychotic mafia boss obsessing over their very being? happy reading! ^_^

nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞

Another day dragging on for far too long, tedious — incompetent employees getting paid to induce headaches rather than doing their jobs, new clients unaware of who they’d gotten themselves involved with, augmenting the torturous panging against San’s skull. His eyebrow twitched, a bead of sweat hanging onto the thick hairs, another trailing down the ink decorating his slick chest. He’d thought a late-night rendezvous would silence the ringing in his head, but the cheap perfume, the bright lipstick, the obnoxious, high-pitched tone of her voice only amplified it. And yet, the woman now laid beneath him, his fingers digging into one of her tits while pornographic moans rolled off her tongue. With her head thrown back, she missed the grimace painting San’s features, but his hips were undeterred, continuing their ruthless rhythm while her ringing voice pierced through his eardrums. He just needed release, even if it were aided by a woman he had not a lick of interest in.

The door cracked open, a bleached head of hair peeking into the hotel room before his tall frame followed to stand in the doorway. San didn’t stop, simply shutting his eyes to drown out his surroundings and the pain shooting through his head.

“We’ve got trouble, boss,” the gravelly tone dragged San’s attention away from the distractions he attempted to draw up in his mind, eyes cracking open with an irked exhale.

“Important enough for you to interrupt me?” he spat, his thrusts now pointed in aggravation.

The man’s gulp masked under the continuous moans, he averted his gaze off the woman’s spread legs to explain, “a fight broke out in our Seoul location.”

San’s rhythm faltered, an unnoticeable hitch, but enough to stir up images of a familiar face, sly grin and confident walk followed by the sweet scent of vanilla and cheap tobacco. A subtle wink as you replaced the drinks his men had ordered for him with ones that would spare him the added flush, ears and chest tinted a dusty pink while he fought off the heaviness weighing down his eyelids. Sultry voice and swaying hips, the memory of fleeting touches and fluttering eyelashes sent urgent waves of heat scorching through San’s body, unwanted, vivid images of your haunting form flashing in his mind before he could stop them. But he pushed them away, prominent vein trailing down his forehead as he fought off the unrelieved headache, slapping a palm over smudged, red-tinted lips to muffle the agitating sound.

“Is that all, Mingi-ya?” he moved his gaze to the man at his side without twisting his head, watching as he straightened up at the sudden eye-contact.

“We’ve got casualties, Sir,” Mingi added, drawing a frustrated sigh out of San.

Pistoning his hips once, twice more, he pulled out, swiping his saliva-coated palm over the woman’s trembling thigh before finding his footing over the carpeted floor. He tossed the condom into some random corner, tucking himself back into his pants before snatching the luxury coat dangling from Mingi’s hand, the taller man’s eyes flitting to the side to avoid ogling at all the exposed skin. Just as they were about to take their leave, manicured fingers grasped San’s sleeve, arms drawn closer to her body to cram her breasts together in an act of seduction, bedroom eyes peering up at the tattooed man.

“Are you just going to leave me here like this?”

San didn’t hide his grimace, “it’s late, go home,” he retrieved his coat, tugging his arm away rougher than intended to make his way to the room’s exit. He paused at the doorway, turning his head slightly to address the dejected woman abandoned on the lush, silk bedsheets, “and call your husband back, he must be worried sick.”

He didn’t wait for a response, walking into the hallway to meet with two more guards, Mingi following closely behind. “Jongho, you’re coming with me,” he addressed the broader of the two, then turned to the other, “and you,” he angled his chin towards the door left ajar, “get rid of her.”

--

Walking past the swung-open door resting against the frame with broken hinges, glass shards cracking underneath heavyset boots, San took in the scattered bodies splayed out over the wooden floor. He grimaced, thousands of dollars’ worth of imported liquor pooling under shattered bottles, blending into a concoction reeking of alcohol poisoning. Bullets lodged into the polished bar reflected the orange hue in which the room basked in, stools broken and thrown into the walls and windows, splintered pieces of wood lying amongst the lifeless figures scattered over the floorboards.

“What a mess,” Mingi muttered, taking in the scene with repugnance unhidden in his expression.

“Looks exactly like something the both of you would do,” San’s retort was instant, “wasn’t it just last week, Jongho?”

His tone was void of any judgement, simply recalling his men’s afternoon endeavors, and yet, Jongho’s ears flashed red as he stuttered through a flustered response, reaffirming San’s memory of the incident. His eyes shot a glare up at the taller man as soon as San looked away, “just keep your mouth shut, Mingi-ya,” he elbowed his side, unappreciative of Mingi’s attempts at earning him another lecture about the improper use of his gun.

While the two bickered wordlessly, pinching and shoving the other’s side, San walked further into the bar, looking around for another sign of life while gnawing at his bottom lip, evidence of his night-long rendezvous trickling down his temples in salty beads of sweat.

“Where’s our staff?” his voice cut through the silence, as well as the guards’ banter, the two straightening up to address his inquiry.

“Changbin called it in, ‘said most were okay but a few got caught in the crossfire,” Mingi spoke, tone steady and hooded eyes focused on San, “they’ve all left already, I believe.”

“You believe?” Narrowing his eyes at the two men, he snarled before huffing in umbrage. “I don’t pay you to fucking believe.” It wasn’t Mingi’s doing, he knew, but he’d rather berate the two men before him than admit to the anxiety crawling up his chest, blocking his airway with a lump large enough to restrict his breathing. “Did he say anything about—” he attempted to maintain the resonance in which he spoke in, clearing his throat before proceeding, “what about—”

“—Looking for me?”

A sharp turn to his side was all it took to ease the tension stiffening his shoulders, a deep breath escaping his lungs when his eyes settled on you: hand on your hip while leaning you weight onto one leg, the corners of your glossy lips upturned into a smile that sent his heart racing.

“Y/n,” he sighed, rotating his body to face yours, arms limp at his sides while his features softened at the mere sight of you before him. Choi San with his guard down was a luxury not many could revel in.

“What’s with your face? Don’t tell me you were worried about me?” you teased, swaying your hips as you took a few steps towards his broad form, only a few inches separating your bodies where you were stood now.

Close enough to run a hand over the hair covering the side of your head, San’s lips curled into a playful smirk, “oh baby, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You hummed pleasantly at the gentle fingers gliding over your scalp, teeth digging into your bottom lip before releasing to purr back a response, “very much so.”

The aroma of cheap cigarettes followed you, laced with hints of vanilla and caramel, the specs of ash dusting the sunken collar of your top exposing the smoke break you’d taken while chaos unfolded during your late shift.

The bullets lodged into wood glimmered in his peripheral, and his amusement dwindled as he pushed through the intoxicating haze your proximity cast upon his senses. Eyebrows furrowed, his gaze traveled over your body while firm hands ran over your sides and waist, peering over your shoulder and twisting you in front of him while he questioned, “fuck, are you hurt?”

To his surprise, you exhaled a breathy laugh, mischief glinting in your irises, “hurt?” The coyness in your tone didn’t go unnoticed, but the arm reaching behind you did, and before he could react, you had San at your mercy with the nose of your pistol dug into the skin underneath his chin. Leaning further into his space, your lips stretched further at the raised hand stopping the two men at the door from reaching for their own weapons. You tilted your head while addressing him, faux innocence painting your features, “who do you think finally killed that bastard while the men you hired were too busy shitting their pants?”

His eyes followed yours to his right, the bastard in question sprawled out near the entrance with a bullet rooted between his eyebrows. Even with the pistol firmly boring into his skin, the corners of San’s lips quirked upwards, redirecting his focus to take you in with dazed, unreadable eyes. “Oh, darling,” rough, broken knuckles grazed your jaw, his lips widening as you unconsciously leaned into the touch, “just when I thought I couldn’t want you more.”

Eyebrows shooting up — the first hint of surprise flashing over your features — a blend of amusement and curiosity seeped into your expression, “oh?”

He walked you backwards, guiding you with the pistol pressing an indent into his flesh and a hand spreading warmth over your lower back, stopping his pointed steps once the wooden edge of the bar replaced the heated touch. He towered over you, leaning you back slightly over the glossy surface with lidded eyes studying your unchanging expression, the tip of his pointer tracing a languid line down the side of your face. Despite the gruesome scene surrounding you, and the firmness in which you held onto the pistol’s handle, your features were relaxed, easy smile gracing your lips and head tilted slightly in a discrete attempt to chase the gentle gesture. Choi San was not gentle, but one thing he did was make exceptions, unconcealable tenderness breaking through a rigid exterior to bleed into his calloused touch, to glimmer within narrowed eyes, and shape the honeyed words rolling off his otherwise sharp tongue.

Choi San didn’t make exceptions, scratch that. He made an exception.

To say he had been intrigued by you would be an understatement, years passing with him making time to drop by when he rarely ever needed to, making excuses to conceal his interest in a particular bartender who knew about his low-tolerance — classified information only a select few knew of —sneaking non-alcoholic beverages his way when he got pressured into drinking after a successful deal had been made in her presence. And despite the confidence oozing off you, shoulders straight and chin lifted as you batted your eyelashes flirtatiously at various customers, San noted the tremors shaking your fingers, the wary eyes darting in each direction while the men you worked with grazed against you while passing by, and those slurring their words drunkenly calling out to you from their booths. He noticed the tension in your shoulders even as the years went by, and regulars became familiar, their orders sliding across the bar seconds after they’d found an empty seat, before a greeting could slip out their smiling lips, pleased to be served by you once again. You knew the respect this façade had brought upon you, and yet your eyes remained sharp, solid walls built up behind the sultry smiles you handed these desperate men on a gold platter. And in the restless fight to break them down, San found himself too deep into a pit he could no longer pick himself up from. A pit brimming with burning want, a yearning so fervid, it ate at him from the inside out the more he pushed it away, cheap whores and endless mistresses futile in their attempts to simmer it down.

But now, the woman he so desperately wanted to break down between rough palms was trapped between his firm chest and the bar, still holding him at gunpoint while her free arm wrapped around his shoulder. It felt like hours, the steady ticking of the vintage clock hung on the bullet-riddled wall fading the deeper San peered into your eyes, looking up at him through curled eyelashes as the longer hand continued its clicking. Playfulness glimmered in your irises the longer San dragged his silence, as though he had no intention of building on his prior statement.

“What’s this about the great Choi San wanting me?”

Your tone indicated a challenge, a ‘how will he avert the situation to his advantage this time?’ while you kept your eyes on him, fingers tangling into the short hair at his nape to watch his eyelids droop even further at the pleasant stimulation. And perhaps what he needed was a pistol threatening to blow through his brain, realizing — after a chase lasting too many years — that he was tired of the endless back and forth, tired of the eager hands brushing over your body while he sipped on some fizzy beverage you’d handed him, watching as you basked under others’ attention, his own bullheadedness and pride pushing him further away from you when all he wanted to do was break every audacious finger that dared touch your skin in his presence.

Leaning closer, until his hot breath mingled with yours in the negligible gap he’d left between your faces, his hand curved over your jaw, thumb caressing the skin of your cheek, “baby, I’d give you the whole world if you’d just ask.”

The sudden confession surprised you, eyebrows flying up and jaw slackening under his touch, but you swiftly picked yourself up, a pleased smile stretching your lips as you bumped noses with him, “Mm, I’ll hold you up to that, Mr. Choi.”

Unlike the gradually deepening kisses shared in romance novels, teeth clanged and tongues pushed against one another, San’s hand travelling down your side to grab at your thigh until your feet lifted off the wooden floorboards. He set you down on the bar, fingers digging into the washed-out denim gathered at your hips while his teeth nipped at your bottom lip. Placing the pistol somewhere to your side, your hands wandered down San’s sculpted body and over the expanse of honey skin peeking through his open coat, fingertips grazing his nipples to elicit a sudden groan from the man’s lips, parting against your own. You made a mental note of his response, the corner of your mouth lifting as you repeated the action, the hungry clash of lips dwindling into interval pecks as you toyed with San’s chest, flushed and heated under your touch.

“About time you started thinking with your cock,” wrapping your legs around his frame, you dragged his pelvis closer to feel him against your core, hard and heavy within the confines of his pants.

He rolled his hips, eyes dazed as he took you in through the negligible gap separating you, breathing the same air as the friction and lust glazed over his lidded eyes. “Who said this was my cock speaking?”

Fingers pausing over his chest, you took in the implication behind his words, his heartbeat frenzied and erratic against your palm as though it was communicating in its own language, desperate to be heard amongst the chaos that was your nonexistent relationship with Choi San — a game of cat and mouse, with the roles reversing each time you’d crossed paths. Playful banter and meaningless flirting remaining at surface level with no endpoint in sight, both players stuck in a turmoil of pridefulness and cowardice, none willing to relent.

If you’d known a cheap, rusted pistol would push San onto his knees before you, you would’ve blown a bullet through someone’s head three years ago. It wasn’t the game you wanted to win for the sake of your treasured ego, but the thrashing muscle beneath your palm, one many would assume didn’t beat, cold-heartedness and dispassionate eyes only a few could see through. And perhaps that’s what drew him to you, your willingness to look past the blood on his hands and the barbarism in which he carried out his business, your eyes sparkling in interest rather than fear as you sneaked an unknown drink into his hand, treating him like a customer you wanted to woo into becoming a regular, and not as Choi San.

The silence stretched, until San’s mutter broke through the stillness, “do you fear me?”

You blinked up at him, pondering over his question for barely a second before whispering back, “no.”

Huffing out a small laugh, he cradled your jaw in one of his palms while his thumb caressed the skin of your cheek, “that’s reckless.” Perhaps his response should have scared you, or at least sent an icy chill down your spine, but your heart only ached for the man before you as you took in his feeble, half-hearted attempt at pushing you away. Ironic, considering he’d unconsciously leaned into you while he spoke, chest brushing against yours with every breath he inhaled. “You know I can’t be trusted.”

“Not when you look at me the way you do.”

A dangerous glint sparked in the dark of his irises, burning as he silently went over your words in his mind, the few seconds’ wait stirring up butterflies in your gut as you resisted cowering under his fierce gaze. And before you could question his speechlessness, or attempt a teasing remark to lessen the rigid tension beginning to choke you, San’s face was lurching forwards to capture your lips in another kiss. Hungrier, greedier, as though he’d been starved of you — and he’d argue he was — and was finally offered a taste, teeth clashing with his nose pressed against the side of yours as he sucked out the last of the oxygen in your lungs.

Emotion flooded into San’s chest, and he allowed it to seep through into his actions, hands restless and wandering over your frame while his tongue busied itself with exploring your mouth after you’d given him access. Short, breathy moans left your lips when his fingers tucked into the denim waistband of your jeans, eliciting a desperate groan from his as he struggled to undo the button separating him from your heat. The dizzying haze San’s soft lips on yours cast upon your mind broke, his eyes closed as he chased your retreating touch when the sudden awareness of your surroundings jerked you away from him. Despite your sudden rigidness, he didn’t allow you to move too far, tucking his face into the crook of your neck to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume masking the sharpness of the three cigarettes you’d smoked earlier.

His mouth found your pulse, tongue peeking out to drag kitten licks over the delicate skin in between the gentle pecks pressed onto the column of your throat. His breath warmed the stripes of saliva he’d left behind, “what’s wrong?”

San’s mouth stretched against your skin when your button finally popped open between his fingers, his thumb and index dragging the zipper down until black lace peeked through the opening. You flinched slightly, eyes wandering to the side while a bashful flush rode up your chest.

“San we—” you cleared your throat, “what about…?”

The thumb toying with the dainty lace paused when you’d placed your hand over his, directing his gaze over his shoulder with a faint nod of your head, eyes fixed onto your denim-clad lap. The two guards stood awkwardly by the entrance — Jongho appeared to be unfazed, yet the red tinting the tips of his ears betrayed his nonchalant attitude, intermittent coughs to relieve the dryness of his throat not going unnoticed under San’s watchful gaze. Mingi, on the other hand, fidgeted uncomfortably in hopes of relieving the suffocating tightness in his ironed dress pants, shifting his weight from one leg onto the other in a futile attempt to be discrete, the heavy arousal pressing against his zipper too tricky to conceal.

Moving his attention back to you, San lifted your gaze back to his softened eyes with a finger under your chin, “don’t worry, my darling, they wouldn’t dare look at what’s mine,” the words rolled off his tongue laced with dizzying sweetness. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, you noted the averted gazes of the two men, as well as the obvious arousal bulging in the blonde’s pants. San’s finger guided your focus back onto him, “uh-uh, eyes on me.”

With a gentle grip around your wrist, he guided your hand down the toned muscle of his abdomen and over the luxury, leather belt, his hand cupping the back of yours to press it into the twitching lust tenting his pants. Your eyelashes fluttered at the rush of arousal drenching your panties, wrapping your fingers around the clothed girth to elicit a shaky exhale from the parted, plush lips mere centimeters away from yours, leaning forward to close the gap between them. No longer minding the two spectators, your low moan vibrated over San’s mouth, tongue running over his front teeth while you palmed over his hardness, his chest shuddering against yours at the friction. With an arm around your waist, San lifted your hips just enough to tug the bothersome denim off you, leaving you to kick it off while he revelled in the gentle friction you provided him.

He rolled his hips into your touch, one hand still covering yours at his crotch while the other hurriedly pulled your shirt up to your chest, followed by your bra to watch your tits spill out under the band. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You hummed, watching as he’d begun leaning down towards your exposed chest before your hand shot up from his pants to grab his jaw, watching as he confusedly looked up at you, cheeks smushed between your fingers and eyes glazed over with want.

“Mm, I bet you’d like that,” tilting your head to the side, a playful smile curving your lips as you watched him process the mocking tone he’d previously used on you — your refusal to comply bewildered him, but most of all, it sent shocks of burning arousal straight to his core.

The arm around your waist dragged you closer to the edge of the bar, his other hand raking through the hair at the side of your head, desperation leaking into his tone as he sucked in a sharp breath, “god, you’re fucking perfect.”

His pouted lips found yours in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, bodies colliding as his urgency and yearning revealed themselves in hungry nips and bites. You carded your fingers through the dark strands, wrapping your legs around his hips once he’d slotted himself between your thighs, heavy bulge pressed and rutting against your overwhelming heat.

Your own impatience clawed at your cracking composure, a man you’d watched from afar, unobtainable to all but those he’d handpicked himself, only to toss away the morning after. And for as long as you’d remembered, you’d hoped he’d never pick you, afraid of the lingering feelings he’d leave behind as his broad frame walked out the room, his scent permeating the sheets still covering your sweaty figure, fingers entangled into the cotton in a hasty attempt at preserving the memory of  a man you’d wanted for years, but who only wanted you for a night.

Drawing back to take him in, the dystopian scenario your mind had drew up faded into dust as said man chased your lips, feline eyes shut, eyebrows drawn in as he registered the unreturning loss of your touch. While Choi San’s warmth may very well still be torn away from you, the morning sun shining over the world while leaving you alone in the chilling shade, you wondered if the memory of the burning body heat radiating off his soft skin would accompany you during those frosty, weary days. Barely weighing your options, you pressed yourself to the man before you, dragging him impossibly closer with the legs around his waist.

If the dawn of a new day were to illuminate the shards of your shattered heart, at least the moon would have borne witness to your undoing within Choi San’s fervid embrace.

“How about you be good and fuck me already?”

Digging his teeth into his bottom lip, San allowed you to guide his hands past the lacey waistband until your sweet arousal coated his fingertips, running them through your folds to feel you throbbing against him. His response was delayed, breathy as he struggled to focus with his hand in your panties, “be patient.”

Unlike any other statement that had left his plush lips, San’s tone was lacking, the noted detail stretching the corners of your mouth. “I can feel you shaking, Sir.”

The accusation earned you a firm glare, his gaze shifting from the indents of his knuckles against the lace to the cockiness painting your features. Was it nerves, or the anticipation? You wondered if Choi San ever felt any of those emotion, let alone allowed them to translate into his body language. And yet the unsubtle trembling continued, even as the deep baritone sounded in the negligible space separating you.

“Call me by my name.”

It seemed as though your choice of nickname was more alerting to him than the implication associated with his jitters. You wondered if this was his way of showing vulnerability, and the thought of another noticing his quivering irked you, “don’t wanna.”

To your surprise, San’s eyes softened, taking your jaw into his free hand and running his thumb beneath your bottom lip, “please, baby.” He circled his middle finger around your fluttering hole before breaching it, sinking all the way inside while his eyes studied your features. Letting out a breath at the stretch, your lips parted further when San’s thumb ran along the cracking skin, tongue peeking out to run over his nailbed. The sternness in his voice vanished and subtle whines mixed into his tone, “please, ‘wanna hear you saying my name.”

He slid another finger alongside the first, curving and running them over your walls until he grazed the spongy surface he’d been seeking, noting the flutter of your eyelashes, thighs tensing around his waist before spreading to allow him further access.

“C’mon,” he urged, fingertips digging into your g-spot as he shallowly thrusted them into your cunt, studying your face for encouragement as your eyebrows drew in and soft exhales quickened in pace. His thumb pressed into your bottom lip, and he leaned forward to leave an upwards trail of wet kisses over the slope of your jaw, mumbling against the flushed skin, “say my name, baby, let me hear it.”

You were putty in San’s arms, pleasure building in your gut as he fucked his fingers into your pussy, his hand trapped behind the lace and grinding his palm into your clit, the single syllable rolling off your tongue before you could help it, an airy repetition of his name, “San, San, San—” so sweet, melodic, bucking his hips into nothing at the sound, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and groaning into your skin, deep and gravelly, before sinking his teeth into the flesh.

A high-pitched whimper followed the echoes of his name, your walls clamping up around him as a sudden orgasm rushed through you, thighs shaking and back arching, head thrown backwards as he guided you back down with slow glides against your walls and tender kisses over the bitemark he’d left as a keepsake. Just as the tension in your muscles dwindled, San’s hand retreated out of your panties, hurriedly tugging the fabric down your legs and ignoring the audible tearing at the frantic action. He interrupted the complaint at the tip of your tongue with a look, berserk and brimming with searing lust,

“I need to fuck you right now,” his breathing was heavy, rapid, fingers digging into the flesh of your hip while his free hand rid him of his belt, tossing the leather to the side before undoing his pants and leaving them to fall to his ankles. “Can I, baby? I’ll make you feel so good.”

“Yeah,” you breathed out in a whine, wrapping your fingers around his biceps after he’d shrugged off his coat, revealing the wide expanse of soft, tan skin and bulging muscle, “want that, want you.”

San’s boxers gathered around his mid-thighs before his impatience became too much to handle, wrapping his arms around you to drag your hips closer before the burning heat of your core met his leaking cock. You breathed the same air, panting into the gap separating you as San ran his length through the slick coating your folds, once, twice, before his eagerness could no longer be held down. A visible shudder shook his toned figure as he breached your clenching hole, his cock stretching you open while you held onto his shoulders for stability, head angled downwards to watch your cunt swallow his cock whole.

“Fuck—darling, you gotta relax for me,” he bumped his forehead with yours, pressing tender kisses to your lips while you adjusted to his girth, unclenching your muscles and allowing the fullness to take over your senses. “Good girl,” he squeezed the back of your neck soothingly, planting a few pecks onto your cheekbone and temple.

He moved in shallow thrusts, craving the friction but refusing to part from the magnetic warmth of your cunt, slick squelching every time he pushed in and soft grunts leaving his lips as he cast his gaze onto your contorting face. He could tell you were still trying to hold your ground, but the pleasure soaring through your body at the languid grazes of his cockhead over your clenching walls dismantled the front you’d built up. And Choi San proved relentless in his pursuit, wanting nothing but to have you falling apart in his arms.

He snapped his hips without warning, a choked moan echoing in the back of your throat, “You’re mine, aren’t you?” he was so close, so deep, building up to a rhythm that rendered you momentarily speechless. “My own pretty girl to ruin.”

You made no effort in concealing your voice, intermittent ah’s making San’s insides flutter as he pounded into you, arms holding you firmly against his body as he seeked the tight squeeze of your cunt.

“You fucking wish,” lidded eyes not moving off him, you rolled your hips in sync with his, meeting his thrusts with just as much urgency, the heavy presence of his cock continuously fucking into you satisfying a years-long hunger you’d endured in silence.

“You can pretend all you want, but I can see the fucking mess you’re making of yourself,” the hand on your nape moved to the back of your head, pushing it down to vaunt his slick-coated cock peeking out of your pussy before stuffing it back inside, toned pelvis and snail trail glistening with your arousal as he grinded against your clit every time he sheathed himself within you. Leaning forward once again, San’s lips pressed against your cheekbone, moving over the skin as he rephrased his previous question into a sure statement, “you’re mine.”

And this time, you didn’t protest, didn’t tease, but simply nodded your head and breathed out a defeated, “yeah, ‘m all yours.”

San’s cock twitched, his hand dropping to your thigh to dig his fingers into the flesh, the other still wrapped possessively around you while he pistoned his hips into your sopping cunt, sweat beading over his temples while your foreheads remained flush, hot air circulating between your mouths as you pressed them against each other in breathless kisses, swallowing each other’s moans as ecstasy soared through your bodies.

“San—nngh fuck—" the more your back arched you away from him, the closer San drew you in, as though he couldn’t function without every patch of your skin glued to his own; until your nipples pressed together and his scent was all-consuming.

San prided himself in his stamina, but with your walls wrapped around him, his cock pulsed violently and all he could think about was fucking you full. “Gonna give you all I have,” he grunted, rhythm faltering and growing sloppy as the build of his orgasm blinded him, “you’ll take it all, won’t you?”

It seemed as though all you could do was nod, the sound of your synced breaths and skin-on-skin reverberating in the air surrounding your intertwined frame. All you could think about was San, so full of San, his scent, his warmth, his secure hold. San, San, San. The man noticed the sudden trance consuming you, moving his head back to hold your face in his palm, waiting until your eyes focused back on him to speak again,

“There you are,” it was barely a whisper, but you released a deep breath you’d unintentionally been holding, muscles relaxing despite the hurried pace of his hips pounding into you, “’m gonna fill you up, yeah?” Though you were on the brink of delirium, wanting nothing more but San’s thick cum deep within you, you remained quiet, watching as desperation seeped into his expression. “Please, baby—fuck—please let me, let me make a mess of you.”

You ran your fingers through his damp locks, scratching at his scalp to watch the feline eyes droop further. “Begging looks good on you,” you giggled, noting his slowed pace as he staved off his orgasm, a creamy ring of white forming around his cock.

An exasperated whine escaped his throat, his hips betraying him as they chased a pleasure he’d been delaying, “you’ll look so pretty full of my cum, you’ll take it so well.”

The furrow of his eyebrows, pretty pink tinting his skin and fingers trembling where he replaced them at your nape, you couldn’t find it in you to refuse him anymore, the familiar tingle of your impending orgasm breaching your brittle mask of nonchalance.

“Give it to me, Sannie, I’ll take it all.”

That was all San needed, the nickname blurring his vision as he stuffed his length into your cunt, pelvis pressed against your clit as he painted your walls with sticky ribbons of pearly white, his cock throbbing while he fed his load into your womb. You watched his eyes flutter shut and mouth form a perfect ‘o’ as he used your warm hole to milk himself of every last drop, graced with the opportunity to watch him unravel for only a few moments before he dragged you into his body, tucking your head into his neck while he grinded his twitching cock into your cum-soaked pussy. It was so much, so warm as he flooded your insides with his seed, a thin stream dribbling out of your stretched entrance while he shot a few more pathetic spurts.

You tangled your fingers into the short locks at his nape, reveling in the untamed, successive moans San let out into your ear, the mix of his deep baritone and high-pitched whimpers leading your pussy to clench around him. And despite the building overstimulation, he started up a steady rhythm once again, pulling out before slamming back inside. You felt the thick cum flooding out of you, only to be fucked back into your needy cunt. An orgasm you’d thought had dwindled away built right back up as San’s cockhead pounded relentlessly into your g-spot, thighs clamping around his hips as they guided you towards the edge.

You clung to his shoulders, hesitantly pushing your head back when he’d gripped the hair at your nape, shaky breath blowing against your skin as he watched you melt in his arms, eyes squeezed shut, “gonna come for me?”

“mhmm,” your cunt pulsed sporadically as he pumped it full of his sensitive cock, and he leaned down to pepper kisses over your eyelids.

“Don’t close your eyes, baby. Look at me,” he muttered over the delicate skin, his smile dripping with sweetness once you’d done as he asked, faltering slightly when your walls finally clamped up around him, “that’s it—fuck—that’s a good girl.”

Vivid flashes of colour painted your vision, muscles spasming in San’s hold as you finally tumbled over the edge. He coaxed you through it with languid glides over your trembling walls, honeyed voice mumbling praise into your ear while ecstasy rocketed through your body, going completely silent through the first wave before a broken moan ripped through your chest. Your cunt squelched with the added slick, a mixture of your release and San’s simultaneously being fucked into and out of the used hole, and San wanted nothing but to spread you open and swallow your combined taste until you squirmed and thrashed under him, pulling at his hair and squeezing his head between your thighs. But exhaustion was apparent in your eyes, body going limp in his arms as you finally came down, spasming and whimpering while weakly pushing at his bicep.

San didn’t pull out, but simply slid his whole length back inside you and stilled, waiting until your features relaxed before leaning in for a kiss — slow, deep, breaking apart to plant a succession of feathery pecks over your pouted lips.

As he tucked you closer once again, nuzzling your nose into his pulse point, you wondered if this was how Choi San treated all his women, lulling them into a false sense of security before ripping their heart out of their chest, leaving them with the bitter memory of what could have been and the retreating shadow of his broad frame. But one peek over his shoulder, you took in the wordless conversation shared between the two guards, bewilderment and questioning glinting in their widened eyes, frantic hands flailing at their sides in an attempt to dissect the situation. The peculiar scene eased your concerns, and the steady heartbeat of the man you’d longed to hold you for so long laced the air around you with a comforting aroma.

Twisting his head, San studied your dazed expression for a few moments before you’d met his eyes, earning you an easy smile and dimpled cheeks that sent your heartrate on a frenzy, and with your chests flush, San’s lips only smiled further at the realization. The man had warned you about the recklessness of trusting him, and while you knew it to be as such, you were content to live in this warm aura of comfort he’d provided you so long as you could bare witness to this side of vulnerability unknown to many. And even if this moment were to be fleeting, leaving you to grieve the short-live tenderness instead of revel within it, San’s overwhelming warmth and the fervency of his embrace would eternally linger, casting a comforting glow on any desolate, bitter days to come.

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[itsbeeble]

Cheerleaders and Stereotypes

SUMMARY: Choi San isn't an idiot. He's also very patient. How long will it take for you to let him admit that he bagged the hottest cheerleader in the world?

GENRE: fluff, angst, smut

PAIRING: Choi San x afab!reader

WC: ~4.7k

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn @flwoie

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: reader is dumb, relationship is actually a little toxic I won't even lie, san tries to make reader jealous and it works, p in v sex, fingering, size kink, SIZE. KINK., softdom!san, big dick!san, um reader struggles to ride san idk, bulge kink, san lowkey mocks the reader a bit, insecurities, arguing, san lowkey is way too patient for reader, idk i think that's it

A/N: h-heyyyyy *chuckles nervously* Everyone say welcome back tumblr user itsbeeble! Everyone say thank you @from-izzy and @sanaxo-o for distracting me while I was writing and to ally for supporting me through a very very very very long writers block hahahahhahahhahhahha....haha...ha

Choi San, despite popular belief, was not an idiot. Not really at least. Unfortunately for him, he seemed to fit most of the stereotypes of a college athlete.

He was fit, that was without a doubt and he would not deny it. Six days a week in the gym after football practice did him good. Toned arms that hardly fit any of his shirts, the fabric stretching and nearly tearing every time he got dressed. Thick thighs that bulged against every pair of jeans or sweatpants, noticeable from the stands on game day and having girls swooning as he walked. Not to mention his ass. Had he not built up a brick wall called “confidence” the comments made about his ass would have had him blushing and covering his cheeks rather than smirking. 

God, that smirk. He flashed it casually to anyone who looked at him— students, professors, the crowd, the opposing team, the cheerleaders. It was a near unfortunate bonus that he was just as hot as he was fit. That stupid chiselled jaw, the dimples, and his tall frame. It’s irritating. 

At least, it’s irritating for you. 

See, being the supposedly stupid captain of the football team came with many stereotypes. 

Dating the captain of the cheerleading squad was just one more, even if no one knew. 

No one important, that is.

“Sannie,” Yewon was practically hanging off San’s arm, her manicured nails lightly scratching the tan skin. The sing-song tone of her voice made you cringe, the noise scraping at your eardrums and creating a dull throb in your already aching skull. Your back was turned to the pair, but San could tell you were likely trying to grow eyes in the back of your skull to watch the interaction. That stupid, casual smirk of his was trained on the newer cheerleader, her eyes big and filled with faux innocence. “How did you get so big?”

A poorly stifled snort from another girl on the squad, Sihyeon. A good friend of yours who knows exactly what goes on between you and San behind closed doors, and knows exactly what he’s planning. That little snort has you turning the daggers you call eyes onto her, the girls around her shifting uncomfortably at the now tense energy around you. 

Jealousy. That’s what San’s goal is and you know it. He’s pulled this trick several times before, trying to egg you on and expose the relationship that you’d chosen to hide. So he’d play stupid, that same act that everyone believes is a poor reality. The dumb, hot captain of the football team who can’t seem to get a girlfriend despite the girls falling at his feet for a moment of his attention. All he wants is for you to finally get jealous enough to rip that girl off his arm and finally stake your claim publicly. 

Unfortunately, you’re patient. 

Fortunately, so is he.

He smirks down at her, his arm grazing the skin of her lower back that her top doesn’t cover. You can practically hear her breathing stutter, and your grip on your pom poms tightens.

“Never skip a day at the gym, never skip practice, throw a good party on the weekends.” His answer is…lackluster at best. Your nose wrinkles, knowing he did it on purpose. The idiotic responses are for you, in hopes that you’ll turn around and yell at him for pretending to be a moron even though he’s one of the best students in the Kinesiology department. 

“You’ll have to coach me through a workout one day,” Yewon grabs San’s arm tighter when she sees you turn to face the pair. 

“Maybe I should take you up on that.” San isn’t looking at her, not even a brief glance down to acknowledge that she’s there. No, his eyes are trained on you. Daring you to say something, anything. 

Do it.

You know you want to.

Stake the claim.

You know I’m yours. Why not let everyone else know?

You open your mouth to speak, and he quirks an eyebrow at you. Do it, do it, do it.

“Kim Yewon,” the words are laced with venom and she goes rigid. “Break ended ten minutes ago.”

“I was talking to Sannie!” She glared at you, and you almost laughed. 

“Sannie,” you mocked, watching a pout form on your boyfriend’s lips, “has his own practice to get to.”

“Our practice ended half an hour ago.” He argued, toeing the limits of how far he can push you before you finally break. 

“Then leave.” 

“I don’t want to. I wanna stay and talk with Yewon.” He challenged. Sihyeon grimaces behind you, watching as San digs himself a grave not even he can climb out of. 

The two of you stare each other down for a few moments, a mix of emotions running through you. You know that he’s challenging you and trying to get a rise out of you, but you know better. You know you can’t challenge him like that without exposing your relationship— the one thing in your life that you want to keep to yourself for just a little while longer. 

You’re the first to cave, your shoulders slumping just enough to be noticed by San, and his eyebrows knit together. 

“Do what you want. Practice is done for the day.”

The two-story rental house you share with Sihyeon and a few other girls from the squad is eerily silent. The air conditioning and the sound of you quietly walking around your room are the only things keeping you from the thoughts in your head. 

Did San take Yewon up on the ‘offer’?

Did you take it too far?

Should you have just caved for him?

What if he’s sick of this? Of the secret meet-ups and the acting?

Something hits the window as you’re walking past it, and a loud squeak escapes you. You whip your head around just as, what you now realize is, a rock hits the window. Not a large rock. Small, just enough to be noticeable and visible to the naked eye as it tumbles back down to the front lawn. Another rock as you take the two steps you need in order to peer down and see San with a pile of rocks on the ground next to him, a fourth in his hand ready to be thrown if needed. He grins when he sees you, tossing the rock up and down a couple of times before taking aim.

You fling your window open, scowling down at him before he winds his hand back. 

“Don’t you fucking dare, Choi San.” He pouts up at you, but all you do is glare. 

“How else was I supposed to get your attention?”

“Ring the doorbell, dumbass. Like a normal person.” 

Much to your annoyance, San just grins and drops the rock. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You lean against the window frame, arms folded as you run your tongue over your lip in thought. “Shouldn’t you be with Yewon?” 

You can see San’s nose wrinkle at the thought, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he makes his way to the tree he’d been using as a sort of ladder to get into your room. He’d been doing that since you met, since the first time you ever slept together. He’d never been a fan of the whole…front door tactic. Your father would probably hate him. He’d think San was no good, a troublemaker if anything. You would disagree. 

Maybe your relationship was more stereotypical than you were willing to believe. 

San’s shoes are louder than either of you had expected as he jumps down from the tree, grimacing at the noise he makes.

“If my neighbors didn’t know any better, the police would’ve been here by now.” You shuffle back as your boyfriend tucks awkwardly through your window. His large frame pushes against the frame, the vinyl creaking against him as it struggles to stay in one piece. His neck cranes to look up at you, his feet hitting the ground with another loud thump.

“Glad they know better then.” He pushes a hand through his hair, the silky black strands falling loosely over his forehead in spite of his best efforts. 

A moment of silence falls between you, and you take this time to sit at your dresser. Makeup wipes and cleansers are scattered in front of you from when you’d made a weak attempt at distracting yourself from, well, the problem you’d created. 

San sits on your bed behind you, watching every move you make. He sits quietly, like a child in a timeout chair. He waits, letting you make the calls. You never knew why he started doing that— started letting you take the lead in every argument, even the petty nonsensical ones.

“You never answered my question,” your eyes are trained on him through the mirror. He presses his lips together, loosely folding his legs.

“Are you really that upset?” The question is innocent enough, but it brings back the previous irritation from the field. 

“Why wouldn’t I be? My boyfriend is openly flirting with other people knowing that I’ll get pissed off. You flaunt that knowledge like it’s your fucking birthright or whatever. Do you really think I’m not gonna get upset about it?” You put your moisteurizer down with more force than you’d wanted to, shaking your dresser a bit. San flinches at the sudden noise, gnawing at his lip in thought. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Are you, though?” Your eyes are narrowed as you turn around in your chair. A momentary pause as San lets the words sink in. He’s patient. So patient with you, even when you feel you don’t deserve it. “You act like you don’t give two shits about our relationship, and then show up at my fucking window acting like nothing is wrong and that the world is all sunshine and fucking rainbows. You go out of your way to piss me off, make me angry at my own squad, just for what? So you can get a good fuck at the end of the day?” 

Sometimes you forget that, while Choi San is patient, that patience runs thin. 

He isn’t stupid. He knows that this outburst, this frustration, isn’t just at him, but the more you spit your venom at him, taking your anger and misdirecting it, the more his patience begins to run out. You can see it in the clenching of his fists, the ticking of his jaw, and the glare in his eyes. 

Unfortunately, you’re far too lost in your mind that you can’t see the way San rises from his seat on your bed and takes a step toward you. Then another, and another, and suddenly he’s right in front of you. 

“Sometimes I think that the idiotic front that you put on isn’t exactly a front at all—” You spin around, expecting him to still be on your bed. A loud yelp escapes you when you come face-to-face with his well-built frame. “Jesus Christ, San! Why the fuck are you right behi—”

“Shut up,” he says it so simply, so calmly that you almost think he’s not being serious. 

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!” You snarl, and San scoffs. 

“Do you even realize why we’re in this situation to begin with?”

“Yeah, you were flirting with my fucking—”

“Don’t blame me for your fucking problems,” San spits out. Your eyes widen and you take a step back. “I’ve been going along with this stupid fucking secret relationship for who knows how long, and all I’ve gotten in return is you bitching about me wanting you to just come out with it!” 

“You know I want to keep—”

“You want to keep your love life private,” San interrupts and flings his hands into the air. “I get it. I understand, Y/N. That doesn’t make it suck any less.” 

“It isn’t just—” you huff, pressing your hand to your forehead in a poor attempt at calming yourself down. “It isn’t just the fact that I want to keep us private, Sannie. I just— I don’t—” 

Your eyes are welling up with tears, and you blink a few times to force them back. San pulls you toward him, his hand practically engulfing yours as he tugs you onto his lap. Your legs are on either side of his, and he laces his fingers with yours, resting them between the two of you. 

“I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong, sweetheart.” He murmurs, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Let me help you.”

You shake your head, and his chest rises and falls with a quiet sigh. “I’m just— I’m just so sick of— of everything.” 

San presses a little kiss to your forehead, tugging one of his hands free from yours and lacing it through the strand of hair on the back of your head. He doesn’t move for a few moments, placing another kiss on your forehead and then another. He waits for you to calm yourself and gather your thoughts. 

“Can—” your voice is quieter, a bit more shaky than it was just moments ago. “Can you kiss me?” San smiles, his lips still just millimeters from your forehead.

“Tell me what’s wrong first.” Your hips shift against his, and you drop your head against the column of his neck. Your breath is warm against his skin, and the scent of your shampoo begins to flood his senses. His hand tugs at your hair, drawing your attention back to him. “You’re absolutely insatiable, you know that? Tell me what’s wrong or I’m leaving.”

You can’t fight the little whine that’s pulled out of you. Not that you wanted to. You wanted him. You wanted Choi San so badly that it hurt.

“I was— I was mad because I didn’t want…” You can hardly form a sentence, too distracted by the gentle tugs at your hair and the way San’s other hand has drifted to your hip, drawing circles underneath the fabric of your sleep shorts. 

“What didn’t you want, sweetheart? Tell me.” San pulls your head away from his neck, holding back a grin at the near-glazed look in your eyes. 

“I didn’t want to be part of anymore…stereotypes. We already fit so many, I just—I just wanted to hold that one back for a bit longer.” You whine, your lips falling into a pout that San just wants to kiss away. Instead, he smiles. 

“Was that so hard, pretty girl? So much fighting just for a silly little reason like that?” Your pout deepens, and he sighs. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah…”

“And nothing is gonna change that, no matter how many stereotypes we fall under. You understand?”

“Yes,” San smiles, stroking your hip and squeezing it.

“‘Yes’ what, baby?” Your eyes are glossy now, your lips parted slightly in your daze.

“Yes sir.”

Despite San’s patience running thin, he always recovers it with ease. Patience is what he’s known for in class, on the field, in your relationship, and in your bedroom. 

He can edge you for hours, cooing at the way you beg for him, beg for that sweet release, for just one more finger, please just one more.

“Pretty girl,” he strokes your cheek, letting his hand slide down your spine to rest against the small of your back. You’re writhing beneath him, trying desperately to bring your hips up just enough for him to hit that sweet spot inside of you but failing miserably. “I don’t think you can handle anymore.” 

Only two of his fingers sit inside you, but it’s more than enough to stretch you out, to provide you with the stimulation you need to go right over the edge—

“San—sir, please.” Your hands grip the pillow beneath your head tightly, nails digging into the fabric so tight you’re afraid it might tear. “Pl—Please lemme cum, I prom—promise I’ll b—be good. Please,” You’re nearly hysterical, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as he plunges his fingers in and out of you, his thumb dancing over your clit but not quite giving you that extra stimulation. Not that you need it with the way he grinds the tips of his fingers into the spongy spot just within his reach. 

“You wanna cum that bad?” San leans down, his chest pressed against your back and his lips right up against your ear. “You’re gonna have to work harder than that. Beg for it. Scream. I want everyone to know that you’re mine.” 

Patience is a virtue you haven’t quite learned yet. What you have learned? You’re extraordinarily good at making Choi San cave for you. 

“Sir,” you plead, pushing your hips back against his hand just enough. There’s a burning feeling in your stomach, the knot winding tighter and tighter until you almost can’t take it. “Please. I’m so so—sorry for yelling. Please I’ve been so good for you. I can take it. Please let me take it. Want you s—so bad. Want you to ma—make me cum. Want you, Sannie! Please, please make me cum. Want you to fuck me so bad, ple—please!” 

For a moment, San’s hand stills inside you. For a moment all you can hear is your desperate whining and your boyfriend attempting to steady his breathing. 

Then he’s ripping his fingers out of your sopping cunt and rolling you onto your back. His frame looms over you in a way that has your body quivering with anticipation, eyes searching yours for…something that you can’t figure out in your lust-filled haze. 

“Such a pretty girl,” San murmurs, pressing his palm at the base of your stomach, one hand nearly covering the expanse of it. “So small, so good for me. So good for Sannie, hm?”

“Yes!” You grab his wrist, nails digging so tightly you’re afraid you might draw blood. “Please, wanna be so good for you Sannie!” 

He sighs, prying your hand away from his wrist and pinning it to the mattress. “You say that, but I don’t know if I believe you.” 

A sob pushes out of you, your back arching into him. He catches you before you can lower back down to the bed, his arm looping around you to keep you pressed against his chest while he sits back. You’re right where you started— on the bed, straddling him with tears running down your cheeks— but this time you’re both completely undressed. You can feel his cock pressing against your thigh, little twitches being the only indication of any impatience. You try to roll your hips against him, trying anything to get that friction back. San clicks his tongue and shakes his head. 

“Naughty girl,” he murmurs, stilling your hips with one hand. “Thought you said you’d be good for me.”

“I—I will!” You grab his shoulders, leaning your face up to his, trying desperately to kiss him— to do anything that might sway his decision. “I’m sorry, sir! I promise I just— I just wanted—”

“I know,” he kisses you gently, smiling softly, deceptively. “I know you just wanted to cum all over your Sannie’s lap. Been edgin’ you for so long, haven’t I? You deserve to cum for being so…patient.” You let out a relieved sob as San releases your hip and grabs his cock. He guides it through your folds briefly, soaking it in your arousal and pumping his hand up and down his shaft to thoroughly lubricate it. “You’re gonna prove to me that you can be good, baby. Okay?”

“Yes, yes Sannie!” You lift your hips just enough for him to align his tip with your entrance, almost starting to cry again at the feeling. He helps you sink, knowing that two fingers weren’t enough for you. It never is. No matter how much he fucks you, it’s always a tight fit for you, not that you ever complain. You never complain about how big San is compared to you. He’s caught you drooling over this size of his dick more times than he can count, usually trying to talk you out of riding him out of fear of hurting you. But not today. No, today he’s giving you exactly what you wanted. 

“Go ahead, sweetheart.” He encourages. “Fuck yourself dumb on Sannie’s cock.”

The look in your eyes becomes almost animalistic. You shift your body a bit, steadying your hands on his shoulders, and lift your hips until just his tip remains inside of you. San can feel the way you’re clenching around his tip, knows you’re doing it intentionally, and he lets his head fall back. 

When you sink intohim for the first time, you emit a strangled gasp, your eyes rolling into the back of your head and your nails digging into your lover’s shoulders.

“F—Fuck Sannie!” You bite down on your lip, lifting your hips again and dropping back down. “Mmph—fuck you’re too big!”

“You wanted this, sweetheart,” San tells you, rolling his head to the side and groaning as you continue to struggle with riding him. You try so, so hard to build a steady rhythm, but your legs are shaking and your breath is already gone. “I thought cheerleaders were supposed to have good stamina.”

“No—Not when their boyfriend has a f—fucking huge dick!” You cry out, giving up and grinding your hips against his. The steady rolling of your hips relieves the burn just a bit, and you moan as the tip of his cock grinds into that spot with more strength than his fingers did just minutes ago. “Fuck, I can fe—feel you in my stomach!” 

San lifts his head at that, a new hunger in his eyes and he leans you back. You slow your hips at the sudden movement, furrowing your brows while you watch him. He kisses his teeth and places a firm slap on the side of your hip. 

“I didn’t tell you to stop, did I?” He grips your hip tightly in both hands, forcing you to keep riding him. “Keep going, sweetheart. Keep going until I tell you to stop.” 

You do, your hips picking up a steady pace with the help of one of his hands to guide you along. His other hand presses against your stomach, and you hear his breathing hitch.

“Baby,” he takes your hand from his shoulder, squeezing it gently as he guides it to where his hand was previously. “Feel right here.” 

You hesitate just a moment, and he looks down at you, smiling encouragingly. 

Then you feel it. 

The bulge in your stomach where the tip of his cock reaches as far as it can possibly go. 

“You feel that, baby?” San presses your hand down and you both let out a simultaneous moan at the feeling. The white-hot pleasure builds back up in the pit of your stomach, the loosened knot returning with renewed fervor and you know San can tell. You know that he’s close too, his hips thrusting up to meet yours halfway. “God, you feel so good. How did I get so fucking lucky, huh?”

You don’t respond. You can’t respond. The pleasure is blinding. All you can feel, see, hear, and smell is San. He clouds your thoughts, your senses, your very being. The pleasure is winding up, drawing that knot tighter and tighter and tighter—

“C—Cumming, San!” You arch into him, and he holds your hip to keep you moving. “Fuck, fuck I’m cumming!”

“I know, pretty girl,” he grunts, his thrusts stuttering. “Fuck, I’m close. Keep going baby, wanna cum with you.”

Your hips are moving slower, your muscles burning and you can’t stop yourself from forcing San back until he’s laying against the bed. Your hands find purchase on his chest, sweat beading on your forehead with the effort to keep moving, to keep riding him until you’re both forced over the edge you’d been begging for. 

San’s thumb drifts across your hip, finding purchase on your swollen clit and rubbing sloppy circles into it until you’re sobbing again, sobbing his name and begging for that sweet release. 

When it hits you, it’s blinding. Stars spark behind your eyes, your head tossed back and sweet cries pulled from the depths of your chest. His hips thrust into yours one more time, his eyes trained on how you arch your back and twitch with your release, and then he’s cumming. Thick globs of cum fill you up to the brim, seeping out from the seams of your cunt and mixing with your release. You let yourself collapse against his chest, practically gasping for air and shaking from the effort of riding him.

“You finally got what you wanted,” San murmurs, resting one of his hands on the small of your back as his cock softens in you. “You finally got to ride me.”

“Never…never doing that again,” you mutter back, placing a kiss on the base of his neck. “Absolutely…not.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually letting this happen.” San is grinning ear to ear as he drives you to campus, his free hand holding yours tightly. You purse your lips, refusing to admit defeat.

“This doesn’t mean I want everyone knowing—”

“Bullshit,” San interrupts with a grin. “You want everyone to know that I bagged the hottest cheerleader in the world.”

“You didn’t bag shit, Choi San. And if you say that you ‘bagged’ me to anyone on the football team,” your eyes turn to daggers as you jab a finger into his shoulder, “I will end your bloodline where it stands. Your mom can say ‘bye’ to any chances of a grandchild from us.”

San grimaces, but it’s replaced by a radiant smile as he pulls into the parking garage closest to your building. “You can make as many threats as you want, sweetheart, but you and I both know you won’t risk that. You love getting fucked after dealing with Yewon every day.” 

He opens your door for you, beaming as he helps you out of his car. 

“I’ll make you a deal, sweetheart.”

“Will you now?” Your response is sarcastic but San ignores it.

“You let me show you off as much as I want, and I bitch out Yewon today.”

You don’t even have to think about your response, a grin replacing your scowl.

“That sounds like a damn good deal, Choi San.”

“Sannie!” 

Yewon’s grating voice has never sounded so fucking heavenly in your ears, knowing exactly what’s going to happen next. San is already at your side, rifling through your bag for the extra granola bar he knows you have. He grimaces at the sound, his eyes almost begging you to help him, but you shake your head.

“You dug your own grave, Sannie.” A quick pat on his shoulder and his fate is decided for him.

“Yewon,” he greets the girl, continuing to rifle through the bag. “Can I help you?” 

The disinterest in his voice didn’t deter her, not that anyone was surprised. The cheer squad watched the younger, newer, dumber member as she stumbled through her flirtations, complimenting him on things he didn’t need nor want to be complimented on while searching for a fucking granola bar. 

“Yewon,” San finally interrupts the girl, rising with the snack in his hand and glaring down at her. “I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m not interested.” 

The shock on her face made you smile. Maybe it was cruel. Maybe it was a bitch named Karma. Or, maybe, you were sick of the shitty stereotypes that you always seemed to fall victim to. 

“But you—you always—”

“I was trying to make my girlfriend jealous of me, as shitty as that is,” San pinches the bridge of his nose and scoffs. “But I’ve already got myself a cheerleader, Kim Yewon. And she’s the best girlfriend I could ever ask for. Plus, she’s hot as fuck,” San grins at you, but you can only roll your eyes.

“I said no—”

“You said I couldn’t tell people I bagged you,” it takes him three steps to reach your side and grab your chin. “Not that I couldn’t call you the hottest cheerleader in the world. No offense, Sihyeon.”

“None taken,” your best friend waves her hand dismissively. “I’m just glad you two finally got your heads out of your asses.” 

“Shut up, Sihyeon.” You scowl, but San is quick to bend down, hunching at the shoulders to reach your height and kiss you firmly on the mouth. It’s a searing kiss, more than he said he would do in front of the squad, but you let him have his moment. 

You’d made him wait long enough.

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[bvidzsoo]

accidentally texting fwb!ateez about the hook-up

author: bvidzsoo

pairing: ot8 x reader

tw: suggestive, swearing

genre: smau, reactions, nsfw, friends with benefits!au

a/n: lol I'm back with one of my random ideas, helloo lovelies! I hope these are funny and entertaining! Let me know what you think about them! ^^ (divider)

⚞ Masterlist ⚟

↳Perm. taglist: @orshii @jjoongstar @tinyelfperson @thestarskiller @zuuhaaa

❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

[cocobeanncteez]

Song Series One-shot: Choi San — Into You

Genre: SMUT (MDNI / 18+), fluff, idol au, fwb to lovers au

Pairing: ateez San x idol!reader (fem)

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings/content: heavy making out, dry humping, breast play, oral sex (f receiving) / cunnilingus, clit play, fingering, hand job, cum eating (f), vaginal penetration, protected sex (pill), multiple orgasms, aftercare, pet names (sweetheart, baby, good girl, pretty girl), praising, sorry if I missed anything!

Disclaimer: Please note that my Song Series One-shots are purely based on how I personally interpret the lyrics of the songs I chose for this series. It is not based on the music video (if it has one).

Song Inspiration: Into You by Ariana Grande

You watched the stage lights dim, casting a soft glow over the bustling, cheering crowd, various colored lightsticks twinkling like little stars. Your group stepped into the backstage area, and a familiar rush of adrenaline coursed through you while a staff member helped you take your in-ear monitors off.

Tonight’s performance at a major music festival had been electric, your voice carrying through the venue like a siren’s call. Your group had been practicing very hard for this festival, and your body was begging for some well-deserved rest and some food.

But now, amidst the crowd of technicians, staff, and fellow artists backstage, you searched for one person: Choi San.

“Good job out there, Y/N,” your group's leader said and pats you on the shoulder. You offered her a quick smile in return, but your eyes continued scanning the area. She smirked at you and left you alone, knowing exactly who you were searching for.

Then you spot him, leaning against the far wall, his gaze already fixed on you. San’s dark eyes glittered with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. He straightened up, pushing away from the wall. He strides towards you, his eyes scanning you from head to toe, mentally thanking your stylists for putting you in such a great outfit that really highlighted your beautiful features and hugged your body.

“Y/N,” he greets, his voice a low rumble. You bowed to him as he was your senior in this industry, knowing that there are people around that could be observing the two of you very closely. “You were incredible out there," he complimented.

San looked visibly exhausted as Ateez had performed right before your group did. He wanted to lie down and close his eyes, but he would never miss the uncommon opportunity to watch you perform on stage. Despite the tiredness, he still looked like he was going for a magazine photoshoot.

You laughed lightly, though the sound is tinged with nervous excitement from seeing him after weeks. “Thanks, San. You weren’t so bad yourself." Your eyes couldn't help but scan his muscular arms, marveling at how built he was. He seemed to have gained more muscle from the last time you saw him weeks ago.

He smirked, a teasing glint in his eye. “Just not bad, huh?”

“You know what I mean,” you replied, rolling your eyes playfully. “What’s up?”

San’s expression turns serious, his gaze piercing. He looked at his surroundings before shifting his gaze back to you. “Can we talk somewhere private?”

Your heart skips a beat. “Sure, follow me, I know a place.”

It hadn’t always been this way—the two of you lost in each other’s orbit. In fact, the first time you met San was far from the intense, passionate moment you now shared. It was at an after-party of an awards show a year ago, a glitzy affair full of laughter, music, and mingling with fellow idols.

You were standing by the bar, nursing a drink and chatting with some fellow idol friends when you felt a presence beside you. Turning, you found San leaning casually against the counter of a bar, a mischievous smile on his lips.

When the bartender approached him, he gently cleared his throat. "One chocolate martini with extra chocolate liqueur, please," he ordered, and you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, utterly fascinated by his choice of cocktail.

“Y/N, right?” he asked when he noticed he caught your attention, his voice smooth.

You nodded, intrigued. “And you’re San. Your group's been killing it lately.”

He chuckled, a low, warm sound, and you noticed his cute dimples. “Thanks, that's kind of you to say," he said, "I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I’m a fan of your work.”

You felt a flush of pleasure at his words, and your heart was beating rapidly. “Thank you, and I'm a big fan of your work too," you said, taking a sip of your drink. "So, what brings you here?”

“Just looking to unwind a bit,” he replied, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “Maybe meet some interesting people.”

The night had flowed effortlessly from there. You found yourselves in deep conversation, talking about everything from music to dreams and fears. There was an undeniable chemistry, a pull that neither of you could ignore.

It was no surprise when, later that night, you ended up in a quiet, secluded corner of the party's venue, lips locked in a fervent kiss. The taste of him, the chocolate you could taste on his lips, the feel of his hands on your skin—it was intoxicating.

That night had been the first of many. Whenever your groups crossed paths, you found yourselves drawn to each other, sneaking away for stolen moments of passion and connection. Each encounter only deepened the bond between you two, making it harder to deny the feelings that had grown.

Presently, you led him to a secluded corner of the venue, away from prying eyes and eager ears, no cameras in sight; this was a place you found when you had a mental breakdown during an awards show and needed a place to cry.

The muffled sounds of the ongoing concert created a bubble of intimacy around you two. San steps closer, his presence overwhelming.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You swallow hard, your pulse quickening. “Yeah?”

He nods, his eyes never leaving yours while he stepped even closer to you. “I can barely breathe when you’re around, Y/N. It’s like you’ve got this hold on me, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “San...” He was so close, and you realized that he indeed got bigger since the last time you saw him. The new haircut and dyed navy blue hair made his features look sharper. Half his abs were covered by the black leather crop top he was wearing, and his pants seemed to be hanging a little lower than what you saw on the screen when he was performing before. You wanted to get even closer to him; you wanted to cross the line.

San’s voice broke through your little reverie. “Remember the first time we met?”

You smiled, nodding. “At that party. You were so confident.”

He laughed softly. “I was nervous as hell. But there was something about you, Y/N. I couldn’t stay away.”

“And now we’re here,” you murmured, your hand reaching out to his face, fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “And I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

The temperature in the area seemed to rise, the air thick with anticipation. You knew that this was a turning point, a moment that would define whatever came next. And you were ready, ready to take that leap with San.

He takes your hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. “I don’t want to play games anymore. I need to know if this is real, if we’re real.”

You squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “It feels real to me, San. But it’s dangerous, you know that. With everyone watching us…” One mistake and a scandal could ruin both your careers.

San steps even closer, placing a finger under your chin to tilt your head back, his lips just inches from yours. “A little danger never scared me, Y/N. What scares me is not knowing what we could be.”

Your heart races as his words sink in. The air between you crackles with unspoken desire. “So, what do we do?”

His eyes darken with determination. “We take a chance. No more waiting, no more hiding.”

You nod, your decision made. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

San’s lips curve into a slow, confident smile. “Then come here.”

When you finally pull away at the interruption of the crowd's cheering when another group finished performing, both of you are breathless. San’s forehead rests against yours, his eyes closed in bliss. "Come over tomorrow?" he mumbled.

He pulls you into his arms, the world fading away as your lips meet in a kiss that’s been weeks in the making. The passion between you is undeniable, a fire that’s been waiting to ignite. You lose yourself in the moment, the taste of him, the feel of his body against yours. This was dangerous. This was scandalous.

And oddly, that's how you wanted it.

You didn't catch what he said. "Huh?"

Checking your appearance in your bathroom mirror one last time, you shoved your wallet, keys, and your phone into your bag. You switched your bedroom lights off before you tip-toed to your apartment door.

He moved to place a kiss below your ear. "Come over tomorrow night... my apartment," he whispered. "I'll pick you up."

"Going somewhere, honey?" you heard a familiar voice behind you, and you gasped in shock. "God! Maya, you scared me," you said to your fellow band mate and noticed she seemed to be going somewhere as well. "Where are you going?"

She giggled, "With you, of course." You raised an eyebrow. "I wanted to see Seonghwa, so he's coming with San to get us," she elaborates and you smirk at her. "Anyway, lets go, Y/N, they're here."

The two of you put your face masks and hats on before making your way downstairs to the parking lot.

"So you and Seonghwa... since when?" you ask and she blushes.

"Right before their Europe tour," you says and your eyes widened.

"That's like, what, five months now?"

She nodded. "We're keeping it secret. You and San are the only ones that know now."

The familiar black car came into view and you and Maya quickly got into the backseat. You greet both the boys and notice how Seonghwa's eyes sparkled when he saw Maya. You were genuinely surprised they managed to keep this a secret.

San began driving, and thankfully there was barely any traffic on the road, so you reached earlier than expected. The security system in this apartment complex was incredible, so you felt at ease.

The four of you made small conversation in the elevator when you reached, and as soon as you entered San's apartment, he was pulling you away to his room.

"There's cake in the fridge, Y/N," Seonghwa called out behind you. You yell out a quick thanks before San shut his bedroom door and pinned you against the door. He took your mask and hat off, tossing it aside on the little table by the door, his own mask following.

San placed his arms on the door on either side of you, trapping you in between his arms. "Hi," he says, dimples showing, causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach. God, you're so into him.

You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. "You're so cute, Sannie," you say, pecking his lips. He giggles in response, returning a peck on your lips.

"What do you wanna do?" he asks, dragging you further in his room and making you sit down on his bed. San's room wasn't unfamiliar to you, having been here at least ten times already. You always loved how clean and tidy his room was, and how it was laced with his scent.

"Hmm, anything you want," you reply.

"How about a movie? Sounds good?" You nodded and San moved to get under the sheets, pulling you into his arms, putting the blanket over you both. He reached for the TV remote on his bedside table with one arm, while the other was still around you. You watched his arms flex, and you thanked god that he was wearing a tank top right now.

While he scrolled through the list of movies, you were stroking his arm, marveling at the bigger muscles. His bicep looked so juicy, you couldn't help the thought of wanting to bite it.

And your impulsive thoughts won.

Realizing what you did, you slowly turned to look at San who had an eyebrow raised at your actions. Before you could explain yourself, he moved to hover on top of you, capturing your lips with his own, kissing you hard. You arch your legs and pull him closer to you by his back so that he was now in between your legs, his chest pressed against yours. You moan softly when you felt his boner rub against your clothed clit.

The temperature seemed to be rising the more you kissed, and San pulled away to catch his breath— except, his way of catching his breath was trailing kisses from your lips to your neck.

"Look what you started," he whispered against your neck, placing open mouthed kisses, being very careful to not leave marks on your skin despite how desperately he wanted to.

He pulled away to look at you. "I was waiting for you to make the first move before I did," you say, your tongue poking out slightly to wet your lips, catching San's attention.

You moved your hands down the sides of his body, stopping at the waistband of his sweatpants. You slip a finger inside to hook it under the band of his underwear, pulling it away from his skin and then letting it go so that it slapped against his skin.

"Y/N," he starts, but you push him by the shoulder so his back was against the bed, and you straddle his lap. Your fingers grasp the ends of your t-shirt before you lift it up and over your head, tossing it to the floor. Your chest was covered by a lacey bra, and San could see the color of your nipples through it. You leaned down to kiss him, hungrier and hotter. His hands explored the exposed skin of your back while you slowly grinded on his hard cock, earning a low moan from him.

San sucked in a breath at your bold actions. He wanted you. He wanted you so bad. He's held himself back so much. The two of you still haven't crossed the line, keeping it strictly to making out.

And you wanted to change that. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

San's hand hovered over the hook of your bra, and he pulled away from the kiss to look at you. "Can I?" he asks and you instantly nod, letting him unhook your bra and toss it aside.

"God, you're so pretty," he says, leaning forward to place a kiss in the valley of your chest, and goosebumps erupted on your skin.

San trailed open mouthed kisses to your nipple, taking it in his mouth, tongue darting out to flick the bud, while one of his hands cupped your other boob, massaging it gently.

"San..." you moaned, hands moving to play with his hair while he repeated his actions on your other boob.

You rolled your hips back and forth on his hard cock and he pulled away to look at you with hooded eyes. "Y/N... baby, you're driving me crazy," he mumbles, his hands moving to the waistband of your sweatpants. "Tell me what you want, sweetheart."

"San, I want you," you moan when his hands at your waist press you down on him. "Fuck, I just... I need you right now, San. I want you to fuck me, fill me up with your cock." You wanted a little less conversation and a little more of him touching your body.

San flipped you onto your back and hovered over your body. "Are you sure, baby?" he asks and you hum in response. "Use your words, sweetheart."

"Yes, Sannie, please..." you beg and that was all it took for San to take your sweatpants off along with your panties, shedding his own clothes right after.

And god was naked San truly a marvelous sight. Your hands glided up his arms to his shoulders, before dipping down to his chest and then his hard abs. You maintained eye contact when your hand wrapped around his hard length, slowly pumping his cock.

Only for him to swiftly lay in between your legs, taking your clit in his mouth, his fingers still maintaining the same pumping pace. "What a pretty pussy," he compliments, sucking on your clit, "And it's all mine."

San sucked in a breath while his own hand moved to cup your pussy, his finger swiping along your slit to collect the wetness there, rubbing it on your clit for some lubrication. He leaned down to capture your lips with kiss while his finger moved on your clit in circular motions, your toes curling in the process.

After working on your clit, he finally slipped a finger inside your dripping hole, and you moaned at the stretch. He pumped his fingers to match the pace you kept while pumping his cock, and a second finger joined the first. The stretch made your hips buck up while you moaned, and you were starting to lose your senses. Your walls were practically sucking his fingers, and San pulled away from kissing you.

"San, fuck, please don't stop!" you moaned loudly, your thighs squeezed his head while he lapped at your clit, his wet tongue pressing harder on you. He hummed, the vibration giving you an extra push towards your building orgasm. You were so close to coming, and he seemed to notice that. His hand and tongue worked faster on you, and seconds later, you were releasing all over his fingers. He lapped at your throbbing clit once more before pulling his fingers out, sucking them clean, eyes closing at your sweet taste.

"Are you ready for me, sweetheart?" He asks, lining himself up with your wet entrance.

"W-wait San, let me..." you reached for his cock to return the favor, but he stopped you.

"No, baby, that's okay," he says softly with a smile. "I'll cum too quickly otherwise, and I'd rather cum in you. Is that okay, pretty girl?"

"Yes, Sannie..." He pumps his cock one more time before sliding his tip into your warm hole, sucking in a breath through his teeth.

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm not even fully in and you're already so fucking tight," he moans, slowing pushing himself fully in, finally crossing the line.

His cock stretched you out so well, and your eyes closed shut, your body feeling like it was on fire. You were clenching around his length, and San swore he was going to bust right then and there. He leaned down to kiss you softly. "I'm going to start moving, okay?" he whispered against your lips. Once you hum in approval, San goes back to kissing you while rolling his hips, pushing in and out of you in a steady, slow pace, wanting to take his time to familiarize the way you felt around his cock.

But you were growing slightly impatient. You pulled away from kissing him. "Sannie, baby, please... faster please..." you moan, and he chuckles in response. "Please, Sannie."

"So impatient," he murmurs and he goes even slower to tease you, making you whine.

And then he pushes hard into you, knocking the air out of your lungs before thrusting into you faster like you asked.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you cried out, clawing at the sheets beneath you. San's hands gripped the black headboard of his bed, his arm muscles tightly flexing. "God, it- it feels so good, fuck."

You feel the coil of pleasure get tighter in your stomach, and you could tell San was close too. "You're taking my cock so well, fuck, Y/N, you're so pretty," he says, and wets his thumb in his mouth before reaching down to rub your clit, all while maintaining his pace, and you felt your pussy spasm.

"Are you close baby?" he grunts, "You gonna cum all over this dick? Hmm?"

You tried to respond to him, but your words were all jumbled and incoherent. San rubbed faster on your clit, and the coil in your stomach finally snapped. Your orgasm hits you in waves, your body shaking beneath him.

"Such a good girl for me," he cooed, chasing his own high. "Hold on, sweetheart, I'm a-almost... almost there," San says, thrusting even faster before he groans, his cock pulsing, indicating that he came, his cum painting your walls white. He thrusts two more times to milk himself dry, before collapsing onto you, being careful to not put all his weight on you.

You stroke his back and he kisses your collarbone before pulling out and lying down beside you. The room was filled with the sound of both you breathing heavily, heartbeats moving at a rapid pace.

San got off the bed to get some wet wipes before he wiped your dripping pussy, and you whined when the tissue touched your sensitive clit.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" San asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Hmm, sensitive," you mumble. "Can't feel my legs." He chuckles and leans down to kiss your head before disposing the wipes in his bathroom.

You got off the bed to head to the bathroom to pee and clean up a little more. While you were washing your hands, San wrapped his arms around you, turning you around to face him when you were done drying your hands on the hand towel. He gently pressed you against the sink, leaning in to kiss you oh so gently.

"I love you," you say against his lips. "I want to be with you, San."

"I love you too," he says, his heart swelling with happiness to finally hear the words he's been longing to hear. "I know you're scared, Y/N, and honestly I am too. This is dangerous and scandalous in our lives... but I love you a lot," he reaches out to cup your cheek, stroking your skin with the pad of his thumb. "We're humans before we're idols. We deserve to fall in love too. There's nothing I want more than to be your boyfriend, Y/N."

Tears well up in your eyes and you nod at his words. "I'd like that," you whisper, pulling him into a tight hug. San held you for a bit, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

"How about we shower, and then I'll make you some ramen?" he suggests, and you instantly agree, not wanting to waste any precious time you have with him.

San smiles widely, his cute dimples popping out while he kisses you all over your face, and you've never felt happier before.

God, you were so into him.