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#ateez san angst
monstaxdirtywonk · 1 year
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Heaven is a place in hell with you.
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Member: San as Hades x Reader Persephone
Plot: It's not the typical myth although it does share some similarities I've made some changes too to fit what I had in mind.
Genre: Angst, Fluff and eventual smut (not in this chapter)
Endless darkness. That's all his eyes have been seeing for the eternity of time. If only someone could imagine the depth of time combined with the depth of the darkness, they'd lose their sanity. Being a God grants you great power but being the God of the dead might not be seen as attractive as other God's kingdoms. Poseidon, ruling the vast sea or Zeus, ruling the mortal world. But death is the most powerful of all, Hades thinks, for it holds the power to diminish everything else. Whether someone was rich, privileged or one of a kind, after their passing, they are just part of the soul parade, a group of shadows with no purpose, just lurking around till the dawn of time. Maybe even after that. Hades has a bit of a reputation if you will, hated by most, if not all the living. The God's aren't fond of him either. He is too monotonous for their liking, keeps mostly to himself, he is on his own, just like what he rules, a lonely experience by default. His body is as immortal as it can be, a vast contrast between his surroundings. He stood tall and proud, well shaped and proportionate. His face chiseled and enigmatic, his prominent bone structure and intense gaze making him intimidating in a striking way. Appearance wise he looked no older than 25, but his soul felt awfully old. Maybe others were right to despise him. He can't stand himself either at times. A gloomy haze was his life, that seemed to have no end.
"A girl is playing around the lake, Lord" Thanatos, his trusted winged friend mentioned.
"She comes here often. She doesn't look human, but not godly either. More like a mixture of them too, not ordinary enough for a mortal, not divine enough for a goddess".
Hades decided to take a closer look after Thanatos' description. He is someone that likes to keep his thoughts and opinions independent, but he couldn't agree more. Her beauty was like something he'd witness before and something entirely different, all at the same time. She appeared delicate and gentle, her hands brushing through the bush, as the wind blew against her face. She seemed beautiful, but in a very different way than Aphrodite is. He didn't feel an ounce of lust for her, her vibes innocent and pure, almost angelic. The type of person you want to protect with your life, if he even had such a thing.
"Maybe she is a nymph? But she is someone I've never seen before and I keep up with them to say the least" Thanatos laughed, confirming his womanizer nature.
Hades laughed as well. His friend had a charm that drew others to him. Maybe they liked getting a taste of death while still alive, literally.
"That's true, you'd know her by now. I'm sure Artemis despise you, my friend. You are ruining chaste virgins left and right."
"Well what can I say? I'm popular with the ladies. I guess they might have a thing for my wings? I mean there aren't that many of us, even in the immortal world. But speaking of getting down and dirty, you haven't been laid in such a long time, Hades!"
The latter's eyes grew at the realization. He had some needs but they never bothered him to that extent. Keeping busy did the trick so far and he was more of an old fashioned man to say the least. His mistress was the night but he grew sick of her. They were too similar, he thought. He wanted some light to enter his world, a blinding brightness to shake him up and warm his icy heart. Or at least that was his persona, his mask. He knew, better than anyone, how much he felt and loved and longed for it. But he could wait for that, he had time, that's for sure.
"Mind your business boy" he said in a teasing tone but failed at intimidating his friend. Hades looked dark, dangerous even, until he became familiar to you. Once you made a place for yourself in his heart, he couldn't be further from that.
"Okay okay, I was just saying that it's a pity for you to go like that. But whatever makes you happy." He answered and raised both of his arms in a defeating manner. Thanatos knew that he was basically a brother to Hades, but he still wanted to keep their relations good, because he had the tendency to say more than he should.
"It's all good, I'm just teasing you!" Hades smiled his way and showed his dimples, the sweetest sight his kingdom had to offer.
Thanatos smiled back and took a look at the lake again, which they were able to see from the inside, as it was the main portal for the underworld. His smile quickly turned sour, and worry played over his handsome features.
"What is it?" Hades asked.
"The girl...seems to be in danger". Thanatos pointed out and Hades took a closer look. A wolf was some meters away from her, moving eerily elegantly for such a creature. Given the area the lake was, it seemed unlikely for an actual wolf to be there. It's size was extraordinary large too, all this made him believe it was one of Zeus' tricks again. A sudden surge of protective energy took over him and he wanted to save this poor girl from Zeus. She didn't deserve Hera's wrath either. None of them did. Hades took a hold of his scepter and pushed it on the ground. The lake started waving and it turned dark as if it was raining during a perfectly sunny day. The girl gasped at the sight in front of her and took a step back since she was almost right next to the lake by now. The waters were divided and a set of stairs showed up. When Zeus realized that the girl was about to escape, he started running towards her and she felt such an overwhelming fear that made her run without even realizing that this was probably a bad idea. She followed the stairs which turned to water again after each of her steps. As soon as she touched the ground, she broke down in tears and hid her face inside her hands, too scared to open them and face her destiny. But sometimes our destiny isn't as scary as we think it is, because there, in this dark and seemingly unwelcome world, she'd find a man with no soul, but more capacity to love than anyone else with a soul ever could.
Next chapter:
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hwaightme · 1 year
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Wilting to bloom
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🍃 pairing: soldier!san x reader (told in first person) 🍃 genre: angst, a smidgen of fluff, warrior/royalty, battle 🍃 summary: we were meant to remain in the meadows, living under the sun and blessed by joyous unity. no eyes were made to witness what you had seen, san. these letters and dreams are a recollection of all that is to never be, and all that we have to bear. 🍃 wordcount: 5.0k 🍃 warnings/tags: nightmares, discussion of trauma, side character death, waiting for san to come back, cottagecore, military, ptsd/trauma, paralysis, told through the eyes of mc ('you' is an address to san), a dog, hoping for a better life, nothing will be the same. let me know if anything else. 🍃 taglist: @doom-fics @layzfeelit @acciocriativity @izuijin @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 🍃 a/n: a chaotic experiment, bear with me; much love <3
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Wearing the purest white, chasing the freedom of being young. Hot summer rays kissing bare skin, the wind cheering us on until we collapse on the ground with breathless, airy laughter. Hiding among the lilac, lavender, and black locust. Those carefree days. Nobody thought that this could ever change. Our life was that of a mayfly’s, existing entirely in the present – the reason for our happiness. We lived in blissful stagnancy, with our guardian angels watching over us, hand in hand, from the heavens above. We were free in the groves, free to do whatever we wanted.
The clover and chamomile crowns we would make for one another – yours were always much better than mine. Sorry I could never give you something you truly deserved. But you smiled anyways and took my collection of withering leaves and put it on your head with pride, dirtying the perfect locks that turned to rich chestnut and mahogany hues in the sun. Pollen would stick to your tousled strands, and yet, you would wave off my hands, saying that this was a blessing of nature. I did not argue. You managed to make the floral grains take on the appearance of magical fairy dust, or glistening gold. We went out during daybreak into the meadows to pick the marvellous beauties – second compared to you, but nevertheless wonderful.
You brought me flowers – whichever were in season. By the bouquet on my windowsill, I could tell what time of the year it was. You were my messenger, my sun and moon. You knew how to make me blush and how to tease me painlessly, peppering kisses in a playful apology after a joke that would make me tear up from laughter. You learnt how to braid hair, just so you could tame my unruly curls on the days when the air hung low and stuck to the skin. A simple braid had turned into gorgeous designs, ones which I had never seen on any other lady, even on those aristocratic dames that had taken to visiting our lovely part of the kingdom.
Whenever I went out into the world, the market mainly, with your gentle touch having moulded me into what you called a goddess, it was a reminder that you were unparalleled – the girls would give me long side glances, obviously trying to spot a mistake, cursing me over and over. Little did they know, you, and everything you do, defined faultlessness. You have marvellous hands – not too delicate, not too rough. Just right. Those hands still linger on my skin in the echoes of caresses, yet another reminder of your irreplaceable presence. A man’s marvellous hands, your hands, which I could rely on holding me up to greatness. I wonder how they are now and if you are managing out there. Those hands were never meant for bloodshed and violence.
‘A musician’s fingers’ – that is how they are called; I found out recently. It is a shame that I could never put it into words for you then, so you just laughed whenever you caught me admiring them. You brushed me off, saying ‘they are just hands’ and continued doing what you were doing. Sometimes, your fingers would intertwine with mine and we would amble in the verdant grass together and collect gifts of the earth. Walking at the same pace, side by side. We were one another’s world. At least, you were definitely mine. You still are. The moment I wake up, right up until I fall back into a restless slumber, you greet me in my memories, with that gorgeous smile of yours. Do you still gleam like that, my love?
I have a particular scene ingrained in my mind, moment for moment. How we sat together watching the sunset, tired but still elated after ambling across the endless expanse of fields for far too long. How you glanced over at me and grinned wide. I was stunned then. What had I done to deserve to have such an angel beside me? Your features – a divine perfection, accompanied by wit and charms unlike anybody else’s. If only I could eternally live in that evening when we whispered sweet nothings to one another with our berry-stained lips, embraced by the corals, pinks and dusty ultramarines of the sky. The present would not be so terrifying if I had the ability to go back with you, to that small fragment of heaven.
How are you out there? My apologies for getting so sentimental – it seems that I cannot control myself when it comes to this… I miss you terribly. If only you could come home this instant. We could check on the honeysuckle in your mother’s garden – she gave me some to plant in mine! Just you wait, we will have the best garden in the village! Come home soon, I will have your favourite dinner ready, and we can chat about anything except the world out there, and laugh, and love.
Get back safe, San.
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You came to me in my dream last night. It was so real that I could almost feel the breeze and taste the pungent odour of ripe fruit coming from the orchard. It was the middle of the night, and I was resting, embraced by rolling waves of linen. You had knocked on my window. Gave me quite a fright, you know!? The moon that enveloped your form and climbed into my room with its ashen rays had made your complexion pallid, washed out, ghostly, rendering me terrified and unknowing of who had awoken me from my slumber. A part of me had expected it to be father – you know how he is - a skilled carpenter, loves to work into the night, cutting and shaving away.
With one pull of the curtains, the white light had turned into a halo, and your skin had been covered by a silvery sheen. You beckoned me, and despite my initial hesitations I went with my calling, and in my nightgown, carefully opened the window and slid out. My family home only has one floor, however you were protective of my and were prepared to catch me as if I was about to perform a death-defying stunt, jumping from a cloud straight into your arms.
Not too far from the truth. That was what falling for you felt like. Though the best, unforgettable element was that you were there for me, reciprocating what had been building in my heart for so long. I only realised it when the beating got so loud and strong that it was about to burst. You told me you had loved me from the very beginning and had already sacrificed yourself to being by my side regardless of whether I returned your adoration or not. You were not afraid of any legends of unrequited love – nothing would turn your ribcage into a garden of flowers, for you had told yourself to live on, if not for yourself, then for me.  Are you still living for me? Are you still out there, blood coursing through your veins reciting the vows we had made to one another under the moon?
A memory turned mantra had come forth to me in that dream. Of that night. How we were sat on our favourite hillside, overlooking the meandering river turned moon path, the world holding its breath for us. We promised to one another to be there until time itself would give the universe up to us. A destiny unbreakable by reality. We had tied all our strings of fate together, with you braiding them into an unbreakable union. Or so we thought. For the time being, you are not here. We cannot repeat that moment like we had done every anniversary. I had spent the third one without you sleepless – a wolf soundlessly howling at the glowing orb in the sky with a pitiful expression on my face. You would most certainly have poked me in the cheek and told me off for being so down.
Is the moon the same where you are? Did you think of me? Did you rest underneath the blanket of spectacular constellations, drawing lines between stars, your inhale and exhale being the only thing audible for miles? The nights are getting cooler now, I hope you wrapped up warmer. You had that one trench coat, remember? The hand-me-down from one of your friends who… oh, never mind that. It is not relevant. Didn’t you take it with you? Yes, yes you did! I can see your silhouette drifting away into the distance, becoming a dot in the horizon. You had that trench coat on. It suits you so well. Better not go around stealing the hearts of naïve young ladies wherever you are.
I wonder if you are stationed in a town like the one to which we used to go to for school. Or maybe... you are in a city! A giant city with sky-high walls and a dizzyingly colossal castle, with bustling taverns and busy squares, luxuries spilling over from baskets and intricately woven into the locals’ drapes and… just the musings take my breath away. Last month I went to a city like that. No, even better. I went to the capital of our country – it was even better than in the pictures and textbooks. I was pleasantly overwhelmed by all of the activity and people rushing back and forth. In our village, you know almost exactly where a person is going by their facial expressions, by how they are dressed and how they are walking. Be it the market, the cemetery, the orchards, somewhere further out. We used to sit on a bench next to the main road and make our, nearly always correct, guesses about a fellow villager’s path. In the city, in the security of its grand gates, that was virtually impossible, and yet in the thousands passing me by, I had somehow managed to imagine I spotted your face.
There had been no silence in the night either. Always, there seemed to be something going on, and lights were never put out. Never was there a total somnolence, unlike in our quaint home. I bet that when one falls asleep, another wakes up – a cycle of the day and night. Would our moonlit walks have the same feel if we had been in the city? Probably not. Reality would constantly interfere and mute our true sentiments. I hope you are in a place where you are free to think; it seems to me that that is exactly what those who I shall not dare mention are trying to control lately. The posters clinging to stone walls have become wallpaper, dirtied by the sediment left from horse-drawn carts going to and fro. The announcements and misleadingly fun, inspiring songs boasting glory and promising a brighter future, tailored by fiendish composers to convince impressionable citizens that aggression is the answer. The horror of manipulation did not seduce you – you had cupped my face and whispered your hatred for the game where you and I were crafted to be pawns. But, somehow, the claws of the devilish puppeteer, searching for a fresh sacrifice, had made it into our paradise, ruining the safe haven and ripping you away to a foreign land.
I cannot begin to imagine where your feet are taking you at this very moment. Whether you are in a cheery stride singing at the top of your voice or burying yelps of fear and pain while staying crouched in the dirt. You would probably explain to me that it is better that I cannot see the present you. Before you left, you had told me that once you appear in the horizon once more, liberated from your unwanted service, we will be able to live with even grander joy, grateful for the time that we would still have together. All smiles, you promised to return with your arms wide, ready to embrace me. We could return to the same patterns, the same legend of our love.
Are you keeping your word? Does the promise stand?
Frankly, it does not matter, as long as you come home safe and sound.
San, my love, please return soon, so our hearts can beat in unison once more.
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For the nation, for the glory, for the power.
You never understood why you had to leave. The slogans were obviously manipulated, the encouragements were laughably weak, and yet you left. You had seen through the façade immediately and yet, with pursed lips and tears in your eyes that you were never going to allow to fall, you marched away, so far away from home, from love, from life. We all wanted peace. However, unfortunately, those who had the power to decide thirsted for a good share of the riches that came with a catastrophe. The country, not the people, are struggling – that is what the flyers say. Fight for the greater good. For the big message. From crusades to conquests to battles to wars, there was always, supposedly a greater good. The country: a united front, a body that was the only one allowed to forget the names of those who make it, providing the individuals in control with beautiful ignorance, and the ones beneath them, sacred anonymity. You were called to work and fight for the country, not knowing what the country was. It is said that the country needs your help, but it is the people who have to fall in the end. The same people who fell into delusions that they would be saved by their glorious rulers, by their nation... Crumble like fortification, or rattle on forwards like heavy artillery.
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No way back. You are an automaton. Keep your head down. Left right, left right, left right… A blank stare trained on the muddy path. There is no choice but to continue walking forwards. Those who fall do not get up again. Once you are taken to serve, you lose all sense of self. You forget about who you have been before this moment. Before the higher ups began to shout you down for breathing too loud, for having a foot a millimetre out of place, for blinking at the wrong time… You lose your feeling of being human, praying to become a machine. There is no place for humans out there.
You cannot recall what you have done after charging, spurring yourself on with an earsplitting scream. Your mind draws a blank. It is blocking you from returning to what you have seen and heard. But sometimes, on nights when you are restless and cannot fall asleep, lying on the side and staring at light coming into the room through the line between the curtains, your thoughts begin spiralling out of control. All the shards are recollected at once. You can smell the fear of your comrades, the despair and the lack of willingness to accept that it is all over.
You are holding your friend in your arms, practically lying down beside him in an attempt to avoid the barrage above you. You have known him since childhood. From the age of five years old you have supported one another and have shared one another’s joys and sorrows. You have watched one another grow up, learn, and fall in love… A part of your soul is being torn away from you. He is bleeding out too fast. Shrapnel is stuck in his body and bullet wounds pierced it right through. There is nothing you can do, and yet you keep on uttering that ‘it will be fine, you can survive, you will survive, do not go’. There is horrifying acceptance in his eyes. A gentle, holy smile. The only serenity on the battlefield. You find the actions of the rest of the soldiers around you to be sordid. They are not stopping, those fools. They are running to their own deaths. Your friend is rapidly departing. He gestures for you to lean closer. With tears making rivers down your cheeks, stained with dirt, you obey. Stifling a cry of mourning you hold him in an embrace. He whispers ‘it has been a good life’ into your ear, weakly. There is almost no spirit left in him. You could sense Death lying in wait – standing outside of the action, observing and calculating the work cut out for it: here goes another one, and another… How many guided tours would it have to make to the place of Judgement?
After coughing up the mucus that has blocked up his throat, your friend says: ‘I love you, brother. Thank you for being by my side… until the very end. Tell my wife and daughter that I love them. Yes… it has really been a good life.’ With one final push he grips your hand and squeezes it. The last handshake you will ever share with him. He shuts his eyes and lets out his final breath. His everythings will never see him again, only his name on a letter marking his end. They will never get to have a family breakfast beneath the birch in their garden. ‘Papa’ is gone. ‘Darling’ is gone. ‘Brother’ is gone. The least you can do is clean his fatal wounds and cover his body in tarpaulin to provide the bare minimum protection from the elements. Honour him by letting him go in the right way. He must have a name. Even after his death. The least you can do is to find a place which his ‘everything’, the two women in the photograph he carried in his pocket, could visit.
You scream. You cannot stop yourself. Grief overtakes you and you look up to the gloomy grey sky. Permanently overcast, looming. It is about to rain. You could smell it over the stench of raw and rotting wounds and destroyed earth. The Heavens are preparing to cry for the loss of so many innocent lives. So many guardian angels looking down on the regular civilians thrown into a war that was not meant for them. It is the people who fall, not the country.
The scream permeates dreams and reality. You jolt yourself back. Covered in cold sweat you find yourself shivering. Hair clinging onto the back of your neck and your forehead, you are lost. But it was… so real? Where did it go? You can still hear the gunfire, the sabres cutting flesh and bone, the yells. The sound of utter demise all around you. Your hands fly up to cover your ears. There is no way one can bear this. The noise spreads through you. Your heart is beating to the rhythm of the brutal march you were trained to follow.
You are home, but your inner turmoil cannot let you fully acknowledge it. Stuck in a limbo between past and present, you are trapped. The gunfire fades back into the rustling of the orchards, and the sirens dissolve into the hooting of an owl. You sit in silence, your breathing agonal. Vision swimming, it is impossible to focus. Drifting in and out of consciousness. After staggering from your bed to the windowsill you lean on it with both arms, which now bear a multitude of scars – majority of which you do not remember getting. The curtain obediently slides away revealing the night scene.
The rolling hills that go down to the river; the groves and meadows lining them at the tops. The forest in the distance. The moon. The wondrous, miraculous full moon. Untainted by the sorrows of the world it has to orbit. Forever young and beautiful. It has watched over you. Seen you at your worst and is praying for you to be able to return to your best.
The grass seems to shine in the silvery blue light. Dew has already built up, readying itself for flight in the dawn. Last echoes of grenades disappear, replaced by crickets that are giving a concert in the fields. It has been a pleasantly warm September, surprising the majority of the villagers. They rejoiced and happily spent their days working and then relaxing on one another’s porches.
Now new colours are taking over. Once the sun rises, the yellows are going to stand out against the greens, multiplying and spreading, until they will give way to oranges, reds, and browns. Birds shall migrate to a warmer place. You ponder as to where. What place could be better than this?
It was almost two hours until all symptoms and aftereffects of the attack have faded away. The tremor in your hands halted until another time, and the shallow breathing has finally levelled out and you could fill your lungs. You open the window to allow the fresh, cool night air in. Drifting into the room along with it is relief. You are thankful for the tiredness that washes over you. A welcome fatigue greets you and guides you back to bed.
Snuggling into the white sheets you curl into a foetal position and inhale the night air. It lulls you and comforts you. For now, all that haunts you is forgotten, and you are back to how you were. You are back to racing through the lilac, the lavender… Back to lugging heavy baskets full of fruit. Back when you knew of nothing that could harm you. In less than a second, you enter the land of dreams.
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To this day we do not talk about what had happened. I do not want for you to suffer, nor do I want your present to be tainted with such darkness. We are now focused on what we love, and live to seize the best moments. Perhaps if I were to give my reasons for not mentioning anything, or asking you after what you had done, you would say I pity you and see you as a weakling, but that is not the case at all. I see you as the strongest person alive. You have survived through terror. You have faced phobia and apocalypse and did not cower in its presence. You have come back.
It was on a bright August morning that you have returned. The sun was shining, the nature was gleaming and a sense of victory was still hovering in the air. I had just finished preparing myself for a day of work at the farms and helping out with some resource gathering, when I see a limping figure in the distance. My heart was leaping. I did not want to bring my hopes up, but something was telling me that it was you. Perhaps it was the way your shoulders were outlined against the sky. The way you walked on without the need to check where you were going. You avoided the bump, the dips in the road without a single glance at them. It was you, my love.
I stepped outside and carefully chose my steps. Since our house was fairly close to the outskirts, I did not have to pass through the main roads to greet the mysterious, yet so familiar a figure. I slipped through the gap in the fence that has been there for as long as I can remember and quickened my pace. I strode past the field and followed the meandering path between the shacks and houses. Perhaps my wait was over, I thought. When I stopped at the road, I was sure. It could not be anybody else. But I was still tentative to rush ahead, letting me be carried by my intuition.
My legs moved on their own accord, leading me to you. We took our time. Our eyes were fixed on one another. I could not read your expression. Deep in contemplation and solemn, you trudged on, and we reunited on the golden, gravelly road to the village where we grew up. You were in uniform – had gone up in the ranks, look at you! You took off your hat, and your shabby rucksack fell to the ground, bringing up a cloud of dust with it. You leaned down to place the hat down on it, and then straightened yourself. Your eyes travelled up and down my body, as if you were trying to memorise me. I still could not begin to comprehend what you were feeling. I did not say anything. Were you disappointed? Did you expect to see somebody else?
My doubts dissolved as soon as your powerful arms wrapped around my waist, and you pulled me close. You held me in a tight embrace, whilst my hands snaked around you, recalling just how much I missed you. It was you. It was definitely you. We stood there for an eternity. We were as still as statues, even when a distant shout of ‘he returned’ had travelled to us. There was bound to be a commotion, a celebration. The biggest one after the news that the war was over. But we did not move. You did not look up. You hugged me tighter and let yourself melt into my caresses. Whispering my name, over, and over again, you were misty eyed as you removed your head from the crook of my neck and gazed at me. Tenderly, I guided you into a soothing kiss, reminding you that it was all over. You were here. You were home.
A month later, we said our real vows. We got married in the tiny church that was central to the village square. It was meant to be. The sun blessed us, shining down and giving us a shimmering peck on the tops of our heads. After the celebration, at dusk, we escaped to the hillside and gazed at the stars, drawing those same constellations with our fingers. We had been craving these quiet moments together. Now we always dedicate sometime to ourselves, in unity. Sometimes, we sit on the porch or at the table in the garden, drinking freshly made juice or tea. We do not have to talk. We just exist together. We understand what the other wants to say without it being voiced. Nodding and a knowing smile is plenty.
I will always be there. I hold your hand through your dark times and pray for it all to get better. Whatever it is. Perhaps there is no diagnosis – there are no physical symptoms for what you are feeling, and yet, you experience unbearable agony. I do not know where it comes from, so I can only assume it is in the mind. If only emotion and memory was built up of bricks or was a jigsaw puzzle. Then I would remove the pieces that hurt you so and you could go back to being a young boy with a dream.
You have matured in a way that nobody should. Far too early you have seen the evil of society and had to grow up into a stoic man. Now that you could, technically, return to how you were, the demons have stuck to you, and haunt you wherever you go, attacking you when you least expect it. Once, it happened at the farmer’s market. A loud bang from somebody dropping pots and pans resulting in us hiding in an alleyway where you collapsed with your back to a wall and curled into a ball. I dropped to my knees beside you, and counted out loud, diverting your attention, calling you back. It was always a challenge. There was nobody we knew who could give us a helping hand; we had to combat the invisible on our own.
So here we are two years later. Getting by. Living in small steps. That is enough. We try to stick to routines and use that as a comfort. A year ago, by coincidence on the anniversary that you have returned from the land beyond, we have stumbled upon a spectacular companion – an adorable mutt with wagging tail. He senses your pain and knows when to alert you. He knows you trusted him, and gave him the name ‘Haneul’. Suits him nicely.
He was the runt of the litter, and the owner thought to ‘let him go’, as they had put it. Your heart had ached for him and soon enough, the tiny puppy was wriggling in your hands, snuggling into your warmth. You fed him and cared for him night and day. The new responsibility swept you away and let your mind rest for a record amount of time.
Now, Haneul is always by your side, even when I cannot be with you. He follows you around with unbeatable persistence, protecting you. He allowed you to try and step out into society on your own, with success. Of course, it would not be life if there were no setbacks, but even when you could not leave the house, Haneul is right there, with you. He rests his upper body on your chest, right above your heart, and looks up at you with concern and adoration.
We are a happy family: you, Haneul and I. At least, we are managing with the happiness that we are provided. Long gone are the days when we would dance with the breeze, and bathe in the sunshine; white shirts fluttering like butterfly wings. It will not come back, and for the better. We would not give that time the love it deserves – our souls and will has dried out, and the time of our youth is distant. What is left is to sit in the garden, with Haneul at our feet, holding hands and recalling the time when we had made flower crowns – king and queen of a pretend world, accessible only through a child’s imagination. Too soon we have lost it. Too soon. Without a chance to say goodbye. We are two shells, together out of habit, waiting out the days and seasons. Living in perpetual motion until we live our peaceful last.
Once, in half slumber, you told me about your friend. Yes, the one who said that he has lived a good life. All I can pray for is that when the time comes, we would be able to say the same.
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gummygowon · 1 year
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10:24 pm + choi san
word count: less than 500
genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, boyfriend! san x stressed! reader
warnings: stress, sort of a break down? midterms (ew)
authors note: i literally typed this on my phone just right now. i need to bake. i kinda wanna add stuff but yolo i can just repost it later
you couldn’t do it anymore. everything was too much. schoolwork kept piling and work just kept getting busier and busier. if you had the ability to stop time you would simply use it to just rest.
maybe you needed a nap, that’s all. but you couldn’t fall asleep no matter how hard you tried. deadlines from multiple assignments crept crawling into your dreams to the point it was the only thing in your mind.
normally, a good pep talk with your boyfriend would do the job but you didn’t want to burden him since he was busy with midterms as well. it just hurt even more seeing san’s texts of concern when you didn’t respond to him at all today.
9:32am
sannie <3: good morning princess!
sannie <3: have a good day today :D
12:37pm
sannie <3: hey u wanna grab boba after class?
sannie <3: hey
6:40pm
sannie <3: y/n are you okay?
you didn’t have the energy to reply back. plus, san couldn’t see you like this, acting like a big baby who couldn’t handle the heat of midterms. it made you want to curl up in ball and cry away the pain. it was embarrassing truly.
seeing his texts made your chest heavy as you desperately fought the urge to cry. you needed to learn how to destress on your own. you’re an adult now.
but you can’t. just not today, you needed someone with you right now.
more tears flowed as you hugged yourself tightly on your bed. too many thoughts to sort out, you didn’t know where to begin. it felt like the world was caving in with every breath you took. the room was cold and dark. the bedsheets did not help one bit as you clutched tightly around yourself.
your cried drowned out the sound of every thing. the noisy city down below was quiet for once. the loud birds outside were overpowered by your sobs. you didn’t even hear the door open.
“y/n!”
you froze. you couldn’t look up at him. not now.
“y/n,” san softly begins slowly making his way to the edge of your bed. “what happened baby?”
“please go.” you lie, voice cracking. you wanted nothing more than for san to just hug you. “i can’t-“
a hand snakes around your waist as san pulls you closer to him, “y/n, i know you.” your back eventually hits his chest and his arm tightens around you. “you don’t need to talk but i’m going to stay.”
finally, your hand reaches to grab onto his forearm around you. bringing your forehead to it, you push his arm righter around you.
tears fell even harder but it was different. when you closed your eyes, you were met with warmth. the heat that radiated off his body brought you comfort. but it didn’t stop you from feeling guilty.
“i am sorry.” you sob, turning around to bury your face in his chest.
“don’t apologize.” san assures, his head gently resting against the crown of yours. “I needed this as much as you.”
73 notes · View notes
parkjiminiemouse · 2 years
Text
2:59am
Continuation of the time stamps 3:00 and 2:58 but this can be read as a stand alone as well
——————————————————————————-
You truly felt bad, how could someone hurt such a sweet human being such as San? Caressing his cheek, you smile to yourself. Warmth filled your stomach as you watched him take slow and steady breaths. Only hours before he had been sobbing but now, he seemed so peaceful.
As you pull away your hand, it seems like the sudden stop of movement along San’s cheek causes him to awaken. Eyes clouded with sleep, he pouts which indicates that he wants to you to continue caressing his cheek. A chuckle escapes your lips, “you’re so spoiled.” You mumble softly, hand grazing his cheek once again. He only chuckles in response, his dimples still so bold even in the darkness.
Checking the time you take note that it’s 2:59 am. It was always interesting to you how San would either show up around this time or fall asleep in your bed around this time. You were well aware of that fact that San barely slept in his bed with his girlfriend. Now that you think about it, he probably sleeps in bed with you more than he does his no good significant other.
You had always been so jealous of her, trying your best to be kind when San was around. You hated how his eyes lit up when he saw her, how his angelic smile appeared on his face as she talked to him. You just didn’t get it, what was so great about her? What did she have that you didn’t? Simple, San’s heart.
You and San had built a routine with each other and it was rare you ever strayed from it. Though it hurt you to know the reason behind this routine, you didn’t mind it when it meant San would cuddle with you and provide your warmth and love, even if the love was only in a platonic sense.
Stirring in your arms once again, you feel San’s gaze on you. Curiously, you look down at him. His features only registering in your mind after you take the time to stare. “Hm?”
He doesn’t say a word as he leans in close. Eyebrows furrow you’re about to say more until he presses his plump lips against yours. Butterflies fill your stomach but even though you enjoyed the kiss, you knew it was wrong. Pulling away quickly, you remove your hands from the males body.
Guilt instantly flooded San’s body. He had a strong feeling that you loved him more than a friend. Something that, if it was years ago, he would’ve been excited about. But now, he only felt guilty for using you. Even in his own moment of weakness, he still had an immense amount of power over you and he used it to his advantage.
This time, you’re the one crying. Sitting up in the bed, you bury your face into your knees, scooting away from San. It really breaks his heart and he can only manage out a, “Y/N…”
“Is it bad…” you whisper, voice cracking as you do your best to control your sobs. “Is it bad that I want you to kiss me again even if I end up broken?”
88 notes · View notes
hwaslayer · 4 months
Text
crimson (cs) | one shot.
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—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
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—on rotation: agora hills - doja cat | anywhere - 112 | all night long - thuy & lil kev | IT’s you - wooyoung, san & yeosang
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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.
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“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.”
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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.
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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.
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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. 
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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.
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“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.”
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▹ taglist: @itsvxlentine @vantediary @certifiedmoa @asjkdk @bintificreads @frobin4ever @persphonesorchid
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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
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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.”
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seonghwa
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“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!”
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yunho
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“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
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yeosang
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“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”
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san
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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
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mingi
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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”
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wooyoung
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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?”
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jongho
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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”
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kitten4sannie · 4 months
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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
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“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 running out of the cabin.
Seonghwa and your friend tried in vain to reason with you, getting hit with a death glare and a ‘don’t follow me.’ from you. 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 in there the entire time. 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 the back of his hair 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 of 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 warm, 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, huh?”
“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, pusling 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 popping out of his hands when he gripped your thighs. “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. “Not until I fill you up again.”
“That’s my boy,” you replied, 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 warm fire 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 warm 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 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, his protective walls completely melted away much like the snowfall outside would be once the sun came out the following morning, squeezing you just a little tighter than before. San felt warm. Safe. “I’d love nothing more, Y/N.”
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© kitten4sannie, 2023.
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bvidzsoo · 24 days
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drunk texting bff!Ateez and accidentally confessing you're into them
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author: bvidzsoo
pairing: ot8 x reader
tw: nsfw
genre: smau, reactions, best friend to lovers!au
a/n: another random one lol kill me atp, these were so not supposed to be nsfw idk what happened, help. perhaps a few of these are...strong, if you know what i mean, lol. don't mind me, enjoy!
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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)
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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.
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daesukiii · 5 days
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Pairing: roommate! San x f! yn
Word Count: 10,664
Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut
Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, f2l au, college au, M for mature audiences
Summary: As the resident fuckboy San's best friend, you're legally obligated to be his hype man. It's only fitting as you're one of the few who can resist his boyish charms. But when he's set his sights on someone you cannot stand, perhaps you need to dig a bit deeper into your feelings after all.
Smut Warnings: masturbation (f), voyeurism, sexual fantasies, oral (f), missionary, protected sex, very slight breast play, overstimulation, cowgirl, some cumplay, dirty dirty talk, fingering, slight body worship ig?, praise, I literally have no idea I wrote it at a time when I should've been in bed so lmk if I missed anything
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this is for the jackson wang party fic collab finished with @mingsolo (hella good) @flurrys-creativity (Pygalgia and Abience) and @sanjoongie (trouble) <3 I still have one more to go but we'll ignore that LMAOOOOO I added too much plot :') flurry was a dear and helped me sort out my thoughts and I managed to write 8k of it in one day lol.
hope u all enjoy and sorry I'm a professional yapper there's no shutting me up
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“Going out again?” you ask your best friend and flatmate, San, as he walks past where you’re seated at the kitchen counter, suffering through your essays.
“Yep,” San answers easily, popping the ‘p’ and leaning over to take a peek at your laptop screen. “You misspelt ‘dextrorotatory’, you wrote it as ‘dexrotatory’.”
As your eyes find the typo, you groan and plant your head on the table. “I give up,” you declare dramatically, “I’ll drop out and become a taxi driver.”
San laughs. “First of all, you can’t drive that well. Second of all, you’d make more money as a stripper.” He dodges your smack with ease. “Third, you’re smart and you’ll ace these like always. You’re just a little mentally constipated. Why don’t you join me tonight?”
You think about it for a minute. While you probably do need a break from staring at your laptop, you know how wild the parties San goes to can get from personal experience. And you don’t think it’s a good idea when it's the end of your semester and the final year of your master's program. You just can’t afford to do that. “I’ll pass this time,” you sigh. “Maybe after exam season.”
San hums. “All right. Make sure to take a break, though,” he reminds you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “See you later.”
He soon disappears out of the door and you turn your focus away from your best friend to your homework. You feel bad for whoever his new conquest will be at the party.
In your opinion, it’s best to keep San at arm’s length when it comes to a romantic relationship. Not that you like him, but you also don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost, and you most certainly do not want to ruin your eight-year-long friendship. It’s not hard to see that San isn’t interested in a long relationship, not right now at least.
You honestly find it amusing that so many girls and guys still throw themselves at him and then get upset when he doesn’t give them a second glance after the initial night. His reputation precedes him, especially in your small town, and yet there will always be a line out the door for him. You don’t even know how he knows so many people.
With a sigh, you clear out your thoughts and refocus on your organic chemistry work. You’re lucky your job offered to pay for your master's classes, but the workload is killing you inside. You’re incredibly happy you’re almost done, and with newfound motivation, you hunker down and start writing out your notes again.
It’s almost two in the morning when you finally yawn and start putting your books away, and it’s almost three when you hear the front door open and the sound of San stumbling into the shoe rack as he always does. “You’re home already, Sanah?”
“YN!” San stumbles his way into the bathroom where you’re combing your hair, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his flushed face into your neck. “You’re still up?”
You laugh, tapping him on the head with your brush. “Yes, but I’m about to go to bed. And you should too, you know.”
San groans, his hold on your waist tightening and his words slurring together. “I don’t wanna,” he whines, “the bed's too cold.”
You sigh fondly. This happens almost every time he drinks, and usually, that’s why he doesn’t drink too much when he’s by himself. He gets too cuddly with people and you’re usually the one to keep him from bedding everyone he sees.  You suppose he somehow didn’t end up with anyone in bed and he’s disappointed now. “Do you think you’ll ever ask to sleep with me nicely, or will you just settle for wrestle-cuddling me into my own bed?” you ask, rolling your eyes as San does not answer, just pulling you towards your room. “There’s my answer.”
You’re too used to his drunk antics and just let him move you around. It’s comforting in a way, that he’s comfortable enough around you to do this with you, and it makes your heart warm whenever he throws his arm around you and presses his face in your neck.
You’d never admit it, but it’s nights like this when you sleep the best. With his warm breath tickling your neck, you let your body relax and your eyes flutter shut.
-
“God, I’ve got a raging headache,” San groans when he sees you enter the kitchen with a mess of bed hair. “I went so crazy with the soju last night, I think I’m going to die.”
You laugh, reaching for the pot to make some oatmeal for him. “Don’t be so dramatic. Why did you even drink so much anyway? No bitches?”
San snorts but immediately whines from the sharp pain that probably shot through his skull. “You’re so mean to me! No, I got no bitches, but that was from my own choice anyway. I don’t want to fuck around anymore.”
Both your eyebrows raise into your hairline. “No? What changed things, hm? Finally decided your one true love is Byeol?” As if on cue, your shared cat meows and curls around your ankles, and you bend down to scratch behind her ears.
“Never had to decide that, we all know she’s the real number one in my life. No, I think I’m interested in someone.” You stop your petting of Byeol, who meows in protest and runs off to pout somewhere. “Come on, don’t act like you just saw a ghost.”
“Who?” is the only question that comes out of your mouth. Of course, San has had a crush before, but he’s never stopped screwing around unless he was actively dating that person. He’s a fuckboy, but he’s not a piece of shit at least. This is new.
“Lee Yeseul. I met her yesterday at the party, and she’s so sweet. She was so out of place at the party, and not in a mean way. She just…has such an aura around her.” San’s voice is soft even just talking about her and you get the feeling he’s being serious. “We’re meeting up for coffee today.”
“That’s…amazing, Sanah. I really hope it goes well for you,” you smile at him, pushing a bowl of oatmeal over to him. “Don’t forget to let me make a speech at your wedding.”
San chuckles, rolling his eyes at your jokes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have study group today? Go there and stop bothering me.”
You ruffle his messy hair before planting a kiss on it and pinching his cheek. He blindly reaches around to smack at you but you dodge him easily, laughing as you head out to grab your keys. “See you later, Sanah. Have a good da-ate.”
San grumbles at you but ultimately returns to his food. You think you can hear him muttering about you being a pain in the ass and you smile to yourself. You don’t have the heart to tell him you know Lee Yeseul…and she’s a major bitch. You sincerely hope she’s sweet to San at least—he deserves the best. But you find her absolutely draining, especially with how often she talks about herself and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else ever. If she cries in your class one more time you think you might smack her yourself.
You still remember the time you had gotten a call that your grandfather had died, and after overhearing your conversation, instead of comforting you, she started talking about how “so many of my family members died in the past ten years.” Sure, maybe she was trying, but you’ve known about her antics enough that it was clear she just wanted to make it about her.
But if San likes her, who are you to interfere? He has a pretty good eye for who has a good personality so maybe Yeseul has changed. You’re not one to stop him. Not that you ever could. When he first started going out to party, you would tag along to make sure he wouldn’t make any bad decisions, but your efforts seldom paid off. You’re pretty sure he must be blessed since he somehow hadn’t pissed off anyone majorly enough to have them call a hit on him.
Shaking your head, you rid yourself of these thoughts and go to the library. There’s no use dwelling on it, the more you think about it, the worse your feeling about his crush on Yeseul gets. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need you to parent him.
“Woah, who pissed in your cereal?” You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to hide your bad mood from your study buddy, Hongjoong. Although you only see him for studying, you’re confident enough to call him your closest friend other than San. “Are you okay?”
You sigh, dropping your books on the table. It earns you a harsh ‘shh’ from the librarian which you apologise half-heartedly for. “Do you remember Yeseul? Lee Yeseul?”
Hongjoong’s brows raise high into his hairline. “The professional bitcher? What did she do now?”
“San’s into her, and with her personality, she’s probably loving the attention from the professional heartbreaker.” You groan, glaring at the cover of your organic chemistry textbook. “It’s none of my business if he cares for her, but damn, I wish he could’ve picked anyone else.”
Hongjoong hums, leaning forward and poking at the top of your head. “Look, you’ve been his friend for years. I think you have a bit more of a reason to poke your nose into his business than most. Give it a few weeks, and if it truly bothers you, then you can bring it up to San.”
You sigh. “Maybe.” You say nothing else on the topic and Hongjoong knows not to broach it anymore. Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so smart.
-
“YN, I didn’t know you knew Yeseul!” is the first thing San says to you one week after he returns from one of his many dates with her. “When I mentioned you being my roommate she told me you were in the same class as her.”
You wince to yourself as you take a long swig of your coffee. “Mmh, I didn’t think it was that relevant,” you say. You can practically hear Hongjoong rolling his eyes at your excuse. You know you should tell him your qualms about Yeseul, especially since the gross feeling in your gut has only gotten stronger. But you’re not sure you want to tread those waters. San’s sweet, but he’s loyal to a fault and probably wouldn’t like you talking badly about Yeseul.
San narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious but not willing to pry. “Well, maybe if we ever find you a date, we can go on a double date.” He moves on pretty quickly, though, walking over to lean over your shoulder and look at your laptop. “Still going on that paper?”
You hum, cracking your knuckles. “Yeah, it’s due tomorrow so I need to pump it out today and then get Hongjoong to look it over.” You lean back, letting your head rest on San’s torso as you yawn. “I can’t wait for this to be over so that I can graduate already.”
San laughs, leaning down to rest his chin on your head. “You’re smart. You can do this. And when you’re done, I’ll take you to a party and we can celebrate.”
You groan, shifting forward and putting your hands back on the keyboard. “Well, in that case, I should get back to writing this.” As you start typing again, you hear the buzzer ring and the warmth of San’s body leaves you as he goes to check who it is.
“Oh, hey, Yeseul! Come on up!” Your eyebrows raise into your hairline and your head snaps up. Why would Yeseul go to all this trouble of coming here? Didn’t they just see each other?
You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths before facing the dragon herself. You can hear the tell-tale sound of her voice pitched up to sound more sweet, although it’s grown to be grating on your ears. “Hi, Sannie,” she purrs and you have to refrain from retching. “I was on my way home but I realised it went right by your apartment so I figured I could come say hi. It doesn’t look like you’re too busy, right?”
“No, not at all,” San replies, and you hate how sweetly he talks to her. “YN is in too, she’s writing her final paper. Wanna say hi? She could probably use the distraction.”
No, I don’t need the distraction, is what you want to scream out, but your mother did not raise you like that although you wish she did. Instead, you just smile politely at the girl entering your kitchen. “Hello, Yeseul. Good to see you again.”
“Hey, YNie!” Her cheery nickname for you has your eye twitching. “How’s the paper going? I finished mine a few weeks ago so I’m home free. Just need to submit it.”
“That’s great, Yeseul,” you say, tone slightly more monotonous than you wanted it to be and San shoots you a look. “Hopefully you get a good grade on it.”
“Hey, would you want to join us for dinner?” San cuts in and you can already feel a headache starting to pulse behind your eyes. “I was going to order pizza since it’s my turn today and I’m not nearly as good of a cook as YN.”
“Oh, that would be lovely! I don’t mind whatever toppings,” Yeseul claps happily. The urge to punch her in the face increases bit by bit for you. San nods happily, stepping out into the living room to place the call. After a moment, Yeseul turns to you with puppy eyes and you brace yourself for whatever she has up her sleeve. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water, YNie?”
You try your best to keep your composure as you get up to fetch her a glass of water. She takes it without even a thank you and you decide you’d much rather die than deal with her any longer so you close your laptop with a sigh. “I’m actually meeting with a friend for dinner, but you definitely should stay and have fun,” you say, smiling as plausibly as you can. You do not have dinner plans but you’re sure you can figure it out.
When you go into your room, you’re drawing blanks. You’re still going out, but you’ll probably just end up calling a friend to complain. As you leave the room and grab your keys, San meets eyes with you and frowns. “Where are you going?”
“Ah, I promised to have dinner with a friend so I’m heading out. Enjoy your time with Yeseul, though.”
The furrow between San’s brows deepens. “But I already ordered the pizza.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “I can bring the leftovers tomorrow for lunch. Sorry, I just forgot to tell you, but I really have to go now. Bye!” Before he can say goodbye as well, you slip out the door. The suffocating feeling that is encompassing you lifts and you sigh in relief, but then you somehow feel worse at the idea of San and Yeseul having fun and giggling and cuddling.
You shake your head again, trying to clear your muddled thoughts before setting down to go find your dinner. Fast food was the easiest option, and you figured you could at least sit in your car and wallow in self-pity.
-
After you receive your order you park and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t want to call your family because as much as you love them, they can be a bit over-protective and probably will offer to help you find a different apartment and that would be a bit dramatic. In the end, Hongjoong is probably the next best option.
He doesn't pick up immediately, and you’re just about to hang up when the phone crackles and Hongjoong’s voice comes through. “Why are you calling me?”
You can’t help but bark out a laugh at his disgruntled tone. “Hongjoong, it’s a perfectly reasonable hour to call, don’t blame me for your shit sleeping schedule. Are you actually free though?”
Hongjoong sighs and if you focus you can hear the sound of him rolling over in bed. “What’s up?”
“It’s about Yeseul again. She came around today, and it was just…so suffocating. Like, why did San have to pick her? There’s so many girls, and out of them all he picks her? The most bitchy one I know?”
Hongjoong hums. “Why does it annoy you so much?”
You groan, leaning your head back and taking a long sip of your drink. “She’s self-centred, bitchy, and she’s just so fake. I don’t think this relationship will end well, Joong. Clearly he’s just blinded and she’s so manipulative.”
“But why are you so bothered by this specifically? I mean, sure we’ve had bad interactions with Yeseul, but you’re pretty nonchalant about the shit San gets up to and you like to let him deal with the consequences himself.”
You frown glaring at the phone although you know he can’t see it and you pop a fry into your mouth. “I don’t know. It just feels different. I feel like I should interfere this time. I mean, he’s a lot more serious this go around.”
Hongjoong hums, rolling once again as he yawns. “YN, be totally honest with me. This is a shot in the dark, but I think this is pretty important.” You hold your breath in anticipation. “Do you like San?”
“Oh sure, he’s a good friend–”
“You and I both know that’s not what I meant.” You bite your lip, stiffening in your chair. “YN, you need to be honest with yourself. The way you talk about San, you interact with him, it’s not how just roommates, just friends interact. You kiss each other's heads, YN. And it can be platonic, but I’ve rarely seen San do that to his female friends, and I’ve never seen you do that, period. You don’t even kiss me.” His voice turns teasing on the last bit but you’re too shocked to register.
Do you like San? You love him like a friend, of course. But when you think about him being with anyone else, even if it wasn’t Yeseul, something in you aches. When you think about San’s smile being directed to anyone else, you can feel a burning in your gut. The answer is clear, whether you like it or not.
“I…yes. I do.” The confession comes out quietly. “But I don’t want to do anything about it. Like you said, it’s up to San whether he likes Yeseul enough. I can’t interfere.”
You can practically hear the look Hongjoong would be levelling at you. “Why not?”
You shrug. “When San likes someone, nothing can stop him from liking someone unless he wants to. I’ll just let it run its course and hopefully my own feelings will vanish in the process.”
“That doesn’t sound very healthy, YN.”
You let out a despondent laugh. “Sure, probably not. But who knows? Maybe I can find someone else in the process.” You let out a sigh before glancing at your now-cold sandwich. “I gotta head out, but thanks for talking, Joong. I’ll see you in class.”
Hongjoong can barely say goodbye before you hang up the phone and lean back. This is going to be difficult. The more you see Yeseul, the more you know you’ll accidentally slip up and something will tip her and San off. Your headache is pulsing behind your eyes and you take a small bite of your sandwich, your appetite diminishing. You miss being a child and your biggest worry is that San sneezed on your lollipop.
With another groan, you wrap up the sandwich and just go for a late-night drive instead to clear your head. It’s something that has never failed to calm you down and keep your mind level. San always berates you for driving alone at night, but you’d like to say you’re pretty safe. Plus, even he has agreed that it’s pretty calming when—you frown, forcing thoughts of San to leave your brain.
You don’t really know how long you’ve been out, but it’s surely long enough that Yeseul has left. As you carefully open the door, there’s a long silence, and you sigh, happy you made it home free. But as you’re about to call out for San, you hear a high-pitched moan come from his bedroom. And it certainly is not San.
You almost turn tail and head right back out of the apartment when you hear San’s reverberating moans fill the house. Against your better judgment, you take off your shoes and step closer towards his bedroom. His bedroom door is cracked open and curse him for putting his mirror right in view where you can see him leaning back on his bed, his lower half hidden off the edge of it and you can only see Yeseul’s knees.
And in your head, you know it’s wrong. But your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel heat building in your core. And, well, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. You keep yourself pressed against the wall, staring at the way the muscles in San’s neck strain and the way he moans with every snap of his hips. You’re sure your panties are soaked through by now, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. The taste of copper enters your mouth but you couldn’t care less.
It’s only when San sits up, probably to fuck into Yeseul better and he disappears from the mirror that you rip yourself away and escape into your own room. Not another thought enters your brain as you strip your leggings and underwear off, flopping on your bed and closing your eyes as you let your hand trail down to press against your slick pussy. It doesn’t take long for you to sink your fingers into your sopping cunt, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow.
The guilt in the back of your mind is quickly sent away as you imagine San’s hands fucking you instead. He’s always had well-worn hands, and your brain fogs up as you imagine him leaning forward to mouth at your neck as he fucks you.
Your brain flips back and forth between the idea of him eating you out so well and fucking so many loads into you with his thick cock that your stomach swells and you whimper into your pillow as your core tightens and you come onto your fingers. You feel tears prick your eyes as you get up to wipe your hands of the cream coating your fingers and toss the tissue in the trash. You’re not sure how you’ll be able to face San or Yeseul again after that.
You can feel the shame burning inside of you and you close your eyes and cry yourself to sleep silently.
-
Waking up is disorienting, your eyes red-rimmed and your bottom lip raw and blood dried on it. You feel like death and you’re pretty sure you can’t attend class like this. You lean over and grab your phone, yawning as you send your professor a text with a weak excuse. You don’t really care how plausible it is, Professor Jeong usually is quite understanding so you don’t worry about that for too long. San had texted you an hour ago, asking if you had come home, and you choose not to answer it.
You can hear mumbling in the other room, probably Yeseul and San sharing goodbyes, when you hear the door shut behind her. Unlike you, she’s probably happy to go to class and tell all her friends about her night with the campus fuckboy.
It takes another thirty minutes for you to finally roll out of bed and put some lotion on your face, hoping for the traces of the questionable night you had to erase from your face. Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you venture out into your living room where San is standing by the door. “When did you get back?” he asks without even turning around. “I texted you like, an hour ago.”
You shrug, avoiding his eyes as you move into the kitchen to find breakfast. “I only just woke up, San.”
Your roommate gives a short huff, following close behind you. “Don’t you have class? Yeseul just left so you could walk with her.”
You try not to roll your eyes at the idea of that. “I’m not feeling well so I don’t think I’ll go.” “You’re not feeling well?” San’s voice deepens in concern and as you grab a yoghurt, he places his hand atop your forehead. “You are feeling pretty warm.”
At his touch, too many memories of last night flood through your brain and you shake away his hand. “Yeah. I’ll just go lie down for a little. Have a good day.”
Before he can say anything else, or realise your suspicious behaviour, you dodge past him and head off back into your room to hide. “I left your pizza in the fridge,” he calls after you and you just grunt in thanks before barricading yourself in your room.
You lean against the door for a minute before you realise you didn’t even grab a spoon. Unwilling to go back out there, you’ve resigned yourself to licking it out of the container like a cat when you hear a gentle knock at the door.
“I got you a spoon,” San’s unsure voice filters through the wooden door, and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“Thanks, San,” you murmur, turning to open the door a crack and take the proffered utensil. “Sorry for being short with you.”
His lips quirk into a half-smile, a silent acceptance of your apology. “I get it. Just get some rest, YN.”
You close the door again, this time a warm heart in your chest mixing with the guilt you still feel in your gut. You’re not sure how on earth you’re going to get over your feelings for San.
-
Avoiding San goes well for the most part. You are in your finals week anyway, and you’re spending most of your time at the library or in class. Your college’s library stays open for 24 hours during the last week of school anyways so some nights you’ve just been staying there until morning. Hongjoong disapproves heavily but doesn’t say much about it and you appreciate his support either way.
Avoiding Yeseul proves much harder. She seems to always find her way to wherever you happen to be, interrupting you and Hongjoong’s study sessions with a perfect smile and narrowed eyes. You don’t know what she wants from you, and you aren’t pleased with her presence.
But one evening, you’re about to leave the library to have some dinner when she corners you. “YN, let’s talk,” she says in that sickeningly saccharine voice of hers, looping her arm into yours and pulling you down the street. “I have some things to ask you.”
Unwilling, you try to tug your arm out of her grasp, but the girl is stronger than you expected. She pulls you all the way to her dorm on campus, sitting you down on her leather couch. “What is your relationship with Choi San?”
Her question comes so suddenly you need a minute to register. To her credit, Yeseul waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “He’s my friend and roommate?” you say as truthfully as you can muster, although you know it’s an absolute lie, and judging from her expression, Yeseul doesn’t believe you either.
“Don’t take me as a fool, YN. The way he talks about you is undeniable.”
“That seems like something you should be talking to him about,” you say, attempting to get up from the couch but Yeseul just pushes you back down.
“I’ve tried. He just tells me there’s nothing to worry about and I don’t believe that,” Yeseul grits through her teeth.
And you have to give it to her. She did try to come to San about her worries. But the way she refuses to trust him grates on your nerves. He stopped his fuckboy activities to be with her, and yet she’s worried about you, one of the few girls who isn’t all over him at any moment. You arch a brow. “Do you not trust him?”
Yseul scoffs. “Of course not. He’s a fuckboy. But I like the status I get with him. I just don’t want to end up embarrassed.”
Well, that will be inevitable, you can’t help but think to yourself. No matter how much your relationship with San is strained, you’re not about to let Yeseul talk shit about him like he isn’t genuinely trying for her.
“That’s where you come into play,” Yeseul’s smirk turns sharp. “I’m going to call San. Ask him to choose between us. If he chooses you, then I want you to stay far, far away from him.”
You shrug. No matter the outcome, it’s not like you’re not already keeping your distance from San. In the end, you’ll just tell him to break up with her and let him deal with the chaos himself. “Go ahead,” bitch.
San picks up on the first ring. “Yeseul?” He’s cheery and your heart aches at the thought of Yeseul breaking his so easily. “What’s the occasion?”
“Hey, babe, I just have a quick question, and I need you to answer truthfully for me, okay?” At his pause, she takes that as a go-ahead. “Who would you pick? Me or YN.”
There’s a long silence on the phone. “Yeseul, we need to break up.”
Only one thing unites you and Yeseul in this moment, and it’s your shared confusion for San’s reaction. “What do you mean?” her voice turns panicked. “Isn’t that a little far?”
“You’ve been stuck on this, and I don’t know how much I have to reassure you, Yeseul. I haven’t even seen YN for the past two weeks. And she’s my closest friend. I’m not dropping her for a two-week relationship. I hope you have a good time, Yeseul.”
Before you can react at all, Yeseul screeches and points an accusing finger at you. “This is all your fault, YN!”
Your jaw drops at her absolute audacity. “My fault? What are you on? I was just trying to live peacefully when you dragged me into this plot ignoring my advice. I told you to talk to him, to just fucking trust him. God, you’re an idiot. And I’m going home.”
Without another word, you leave, still fuming over that interaction. Couldn’t she just have made the call without you? You’re happy you don’t have to do all the convincing for San to leave her, but that just complicates things for you. Would he really so easily drop Yeseul just for you? From what you’ve heard, he was practically head over heels for her.
With another sigh, you head back to the library. You need to finish that exam.
-
“Pens down, and turn in your exams,” you hear the professor call, and you don’t think you’ve ever gotten up so fast. You’re so, so fucking happy that you’ve finished your last year and now you’re free.
As soon as your professor accepts your paper you race out of the lecture hall, only stopped by the cafeteria when you hear someone call your name. Lee Juyeon, someone you’ve started growing closer to, waves you down. “Hey, YN, congrats on finishing!” he smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, the giddiness contagious.
“Thanks! You too,” you say, pulling him into a hug. “It’s so nice to be done.” Practically nothing could dampen your mood, especially seeing Juyeon. He’s sweet, and you have an inkling he likes you. And you’re not opposed to it.
“It really is,” Juyeon agreed cheerfully. “Look, I have to go celebrate with my family, I just wanted to say hi. But hey…there’s this end of the year party on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”
And your suspicions were right. You think about it for a moment. You’re not the biggest party person, anyone knows that, but Juyeon is sweet and just what you need, so you accept eagerly. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to exchange numbers and for him to promise to send you more details before he runs off. And through your excitement, you know you still have to go meet with San who’s probably waiting for you just outside. He wanted to see you as soon as you finish your exams, and you didn’t have the heart to decline.
“Congratulations on finishing your last exam, YN!” San cheers as soon as you exit the college building. “I’m so proud of you!”
You’re too tired to complain when San sweeps you up into a hug, just letting yourself relax in his firm arms. After all this work, you think you’ll let yourself indulge in his affection. “Thanks, Sanah. I appreciate it.” You let your chin rest on his broad shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion take over you. “Can I go to bed now?”
You hear him chuckle, the vibrations from his chest comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. We can celebrate later. Come on.”
He tugs you all the way to your apartment, dropping you on the couch and quickly curling right up next to you. You can’t bring yourself to care. “I’m proud of you,” he repeats into your hair as he tucks your head into his neck. Your eyes flutter shut.
When you reopen them, it’s bordering on evening. San is no longer wrapped around you, and you can hear him moving about in the kitchen. “San,” you call out, voice raspy from having just woken up. “What are you doing?”
“Ah, I’m making dinner,” he responds, his voice too warm for your liking, your heart beating just a little faster. “Come and eat.”
With a bit of difficulty, you rise from the couch and move to the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. “Japchae? When did you learn how to cook this?”
San chuckles. “Wooyoung taught me the other day because he was bored. I figured it’d be a nice surprise for you after all your hard work.”
Your lips twitch, unsure if you should smile or pout. “That’s sweet. Thank you again, San.”
As you start eating the noodles (there’s a little too much sesame but you don’t have the heart to tell San that), San clears his throat. “So…I promised to take you to a party.”
You vaguely remember this conversation. “Ah, yeah. What did you have in mind?”
“There’s this end of the year party, it’s supposed to be the biggest one, hosted by Jackson Wang.”
“Ah–” you shake your head, eyes apologetic. “I promised someone else I’d go with them. I didn’t know that was the party you wanted to take me to. Maybe we can do something else on a different day?”
San’s lips turn downward the slightest bit. “That’s okay. There are other parties. Who invited you, by the way?” His tone is casual, and yet you still feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den.
“Ah, Lee Juyeon from college. I think he’s in Hongjoong’s philosophy department, but he’s a year behind. He’s cute so I figured I’d give it a try.”
“It’s a date?” Your brows furrow at the heaviness in San’s voice but you pay it no mind and nod. “I see. Well, have fun.”
The rest of the dinner is filled with silence, San picking at his food and you in no mood to try and dissect his mood. He takes your empty bowl and starts doing the dishes, and you mumble out a thank you before running back to your room. He’s clearly not willing to talk more and it’s best to give him space.
As you lay in bed, you can’t help but worry about what is so grating on his mind after you mentioned your date. You can’t think of anything that would cause him to be angry—as far as you’re aware he has no grudges against Lee Juyeon, much less met him. Shaking your head, you try and fall asleep. It’s best not to dwell on it, you can just ask him tomorrow.
-
It’s Saturday, and you’re in a foul mood. San hasn’t spoken to you in the four days leading up to the party, avoiding you like there’s no tomorrow. The only saving grace comes in the form of Juyeon’s excited texts, telling you all about his outfit for the party, and you respond with matching enthusiasm. When you meet with Juyeon in front of the large house where the party is held, the thought of San isn’t even on your mind. Instead, you just take Juyeon’s offered hand and follow him into the party.
You weave through the bodies, reaching the counter where shots are being passed around. “Want vodka or tequila?” Juyeon asks, his voice pitching higher to be heard over the bass. Without answering him, you just reach for the bottle of tequila, pouring the two of you shots. “Good choice,” Juyeon laughs, throwing his head back as he downs the alcohol, you following suit shortly.
“You know, I never pegged you for a college party fan,” you lean in, laughing. “Maybe I should hang out with you more.”
Juyeon chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Maybe you should. I know great party-throwers. Although I’ve heard you’ve been to your fair share, what being San’s friend and all.”
You shake your head, a smile on your face. “Maybe at first, but you know, organic chemistry isn’t an easy major to balance with a party life.”
Juyeon laughs loudly, bumping you with his hip. “I understand the pain. Philosophy falls into that category of majors too. Another shot?”
You take the second shot happily, letting the alcohol burn through your veins as you stumble alongside Juyeon’s wandering through the crowd. Whatever you’re doing is a blur, all you can focus on is Juyeon’s smile and his warm hand holding yours.
It feels like barely a moment has passed when Juyeon pulls you into a nearly empty room of couches, only a few other couples lingering in the corners. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Juyeon starts, his eyes sparkling as he takes in your appearance. “It’s been fun hanging out.”
“I did too,” you agree with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes.
He leans in, and you lean in, and your lips brush. It’s a sweet kiss, one that you lean into as Juyeon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s warm and you smile into it. And then a familiar face pops into your head. You wonder to yourself how San would kiss you, if he would do it as sweetly as Juyeon or if he would devour your lips like it was his last meal.
When Juyeon pulls away for air, you feel guilt burning in your stomach again. Why would you think of other men when Juyeon’s right here in front of you? As Juyeon leans in to kiss you again, you almost move back before a hand grips your shoulder and pulls you into a broad chest.
“Hey, man, I’m going to have to talk to YN if you don’t mind.” You’d recognise your best friend’s voice anywhere, and it only serves to fill you with annoyance. Sure, you weren’t as into Juyeon’s kisses as you expected, but it doesn’t mean you’re thrilled to be interrupted by the man who’s been ignoring you.
Juyeon takes one look at San, and something changes in his eyes. A mix of reluctance and acceptance, and with a short nod and smile towards you, he slips away from you. You turn to San, frowning at the sharpness in his narrowed eyes, not one you’re used to seeing or enjoy seeing. “Why would you kiss him?” he spits, and your annoyance grows with confusion being added to the mix.
“What do you mean, ‘why kiss him’? I told you, San, I was on a date. Why the fuck did you interrupt us?”
“I like you.” Those three words would be a dream for you to hear from his mouth…if you weren’t so pissed.
“No, fuck that. I do not need to hear that from you right now. Not when I was enjoying my night with Juyeon. What was confessing supposed to do for you, San? It’s too late now. I wanted to enjoy this party, and now I have to go apologise to Juyeon for you.” San opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head, pushing him away from you.
You leave San standing by himself as you search for Juyeon, your mood immediately souring. Why would he fucking do this to you? You can feel tears burning your eyelids and you abandon your search for Juyeon, searching instead for some liquor to take away your embarrassment.
As you pour yourself another shot of tequila, you notice a familiar face, Hongjoong talking to a girl you recognise as someone he hangs out with sometimes. They look like they’re getting it on and you feel a little bad, but you need his advice. “Hey, Kim Hongjoong!” you call out to him, waving him over. Hongjoong’s eyes brighten and he makes his way over, leaving the girl staring after him longingly, but her attention is soon taken away by two other guys. You recognise one of them from the cafeteria but you don’t remember his name.
“Hey, YN, what’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here, did San take you?” Your face falls and Hongjoong realises he stepped into dangerous territory. “Okay, what happened?”
-
“I can’t believe San is mad at me for kissing someone at the party,” you groan after explaining to Hongjoong the events leading up to now. “Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best move on my part but he’s had like, twenty million one-night stands, and yet I can’t kiss someone else? He hasn’t even talked to me after I mentioned going on a date. And yet he looked positively murderous after he saw me kissing that other guy.”
Hongjoong tilts his head, confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted, though? You like him.”
“I did! I do! But I’m so sick of waiting around for him, and I could’ve had a chance at liking someone else. He’s all over the place, and I don’t know if that’s what I want in a man.” You’re lying to both Hongjoong and yourself, and Hongjoong knows it, raising an eyebrow.
“Honestly, YN, it just sounds like you need to talk to him.” Hongjoong crosses his arms, tapping his foot and eager to back to the girl was with, but also not wanting to ditch you in your time of need. You feel a little bad for pulling him away, but your mind is swirling with so many thoughts, you don’t know if you can sort them out by yourself and drinking to erase those thoughts is not something you like to do. You’re not San.
And speak of the devil, you smell his familiar cologne before his hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. You whirl around out of his grip and glare at him. “Get off me,” you snap. “I’m in the middle of a conversation right now, Choi San.”
With one glance at Hongjoong, he raises his hands and winks at you. “Have that talk, YN. It’ll do you more good than harm.”
Oh, you’re going to kill that traitor after the party. You turn your attention back to San, your mouth twisted into a frown. “You make this quick or else.”
San has the decency to look a little ashamed as his eyes shake. “Can we talk on the patio? It’s too loud in here.”
With a dramatic sigh, you grab his wrist and pull him through the crowd to the back door, practically slamming it behind you. You can see the eyes of people interested in the drama through the windows but you pay it no mind. “Speak. You get five minutes before I go back in and you don’t talk to me again for the rest of the night.”
San’s face falls and his lips pull into a pout. But no matter how subconsciously adorable he is, you refuse to fall for his charms this time. The heat of anger is still curling in your gut when you think about the argument from earlier. “YN, come on, I had a good reason.”
You shake your head, ignoring the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. “No, San. Confessing to me is not a good reason to fuck up my night. You didn’t even apologise. You’ve been ignoring me for days after I mentioned my date, and the moment I kiss Juyeon you get all angry and jealous? Be for real.” You pause for breath, glaring daggers into his eyes. “You are not owed my time, especially after that shit you pulled. Yeseul’s jealousy is why you broke up with her, so why are you like this to me?”
San’s gaze intensifies and you can see him actively trying to reign in his temper. Although he does his best to remain calm, if tempers are rising, he can be intense. “YN, what was I supposed to do? Watch you go out with him? Watch you slip from my fingers just like that?”
“Yes!” you all but scream at him. “If I could sit by and let Yeseul take each little bit of your heart, you could’ve done the same! I was going to be happy, San! I wouldn’t have to sit behind and watch you from the sidelines with my heart slowly cracking. But I don’t get that same courtesy.”
You step forward, poking his chest with a finger as you let loose your storm of thoughts. In your anger, you don’t even notice San’s arm moving until it wraps around your waist and pulls you into him. The action shocks you enough that you stop mid-sentence, your finger still pressing into San’s flesh. “You love me?” San leans in, his nose brushing against yours.
You can feel heat flare up in your face as you stare wide-eyed at him. It takes you a moment to register your compromising position and you stumble back, pushing at his chest. “Don’t do that,” you hiss, turning your eyes away. “I don’t like you, San. Not anymore.”
“You’re lying.” San’s voice is firm. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t like me anymore.”
You don’t know where you got it from. You’ve never been good at lying, not to San. Maybe it was the alcohol burning through your system, mixing with the shame and anger you feel. But this time, you stare him directly in the eye and say the four words that might’ve been the biggest lie in your life. “I don’t like you.” San’s brows furrow and he shakes his head.
“No–”
“Yes, San. You cannot just waltz around and expect me to keep the patience I had for you. I’m sick of being pulled around like a puppet. Maybe at first you didn’t know. But refusing to give me space when I asked for it?” You shake your head, glancing back at the party. “I’m going back in. We can talk about the apartment lease later.”
Without glancing back, you re-enter the house. And maybe it hurts a little that he doesn’t go after you, but at this point, you’re too numb and all you want to do is go home and cry. But home is not an option, not when it would probably be the first place he would look for you. Fighting back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you slide into your car, staring blankly at the wheel for a long moment until you feel composed and sober enough to drive.
And drive you certainly do. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, and you’re plenty aware that this is a bad idea, but you just let yourself go around and calm yourself down first. The crisp breeze paired with the warm spring air does wonders to clear your head and paired with the late times, there are not too many cars out. It’s peaceful.
You’re not too sure how long you were out, but it’s long enough for the blurry memory of the argument to clear and you groan, pulling over to park by the side of the road and let your head hit the steering wheel. You went too far. San had always been the more emotional of you two, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He must’ve had a hard time with Yeseul, and although it doesn’t excuse him, you never gave him a chance to properly apologise.
With a sigh, you check your phone to see five missed calls and twenty texts from San asking where you are. He somehow even got your neighbours (a sweet couple in their twenties who babysit Byeol sometimes) to ask you if you’re okay. As your finger hovers over the call button, debating whether to call him back, bright headlights shine behind your car and you stiffen. Your hand hovers over the pepper spray you keep in the dash as you press the call button in a panic. No matter what the disagreement was about, you know San would still come to your aid if you needed it.
“YN, open the door. I’ve been worried sick!” San’s voice crackles through the receiver and you spin around in your seat, squinting at the figure standing behind your car and your shoulders sag in relief.
“God, San, you scared the shit out of me!” you scold, leaning over to unlock the passenger seat and push the door open while hanging up the call. “Get in here.”
A haggard-looking San slides in, his eyes red-rimmed and mouth pressed into a thin line. The car that drove him turns and you look back in confusion before San starts explaining. “I wanted to give you space so I stayed at the party,” he starts explaining after a moment. “But I got worried and went to the apartment to find you. But you weren’t there, and I asked all your friends. I’m lucky you left your location on, and my friend gave me a ride.”
You wince. You forgot about turning off your location, although you’re glad you didn’t as it would’ve been more dangerous otherwise. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning your eyes to look out the windshield. “I just needed to clear my head so I went for a drive.”
There’s a long period of suffocating silence between the two of you when San finally speaks, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry,” he starts and your head snaps towards him, eyes wide. Of all the things you expected to fall from his lips, an apology is not one of those things. Not tonight, at least. “I was too pushy. I shouldn’t have ignored you, or interrupted your time with Juyeon. I should’ve talked to you like an adult.”
You laugh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “What an astute observation, San. However did you come to that conclusion?” Your exasperation is evident in your tone and San sucks in a breath at how done you seem. “Look, San. I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be that bad. But I’m just…tired. I’m tired of always wondering what is running through your mind, where I am in your list of importance. You date Yeseul, but break up with her over me. You give me the cold shoulder when I go on a date, but suddenly me being on a date is unacceptable. I just don’t know how to take anything.”
Against your will, tears start to drop onto your thighs, streaking down the skin and you sniff. “Shit,” San panics beside you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He hands you a tissue and you take it with shaking hands, pressing your face into it as San tugs you closer, guiding you to lean against him.
He repeats soft little ‘sorry’s and leans his head atop yours, his tears falling onto your hair. The two of you stay in this position for a long while, no words are needed to understand the emotional moment.
“Let’s go home, YN,” San mumbles, his voice vibrating deep in your heart. “Let’s go home and we can talk tomorrow.”
You sniff again, tears run dry as you sit up and wipe your eyes. “Okay,” you whisper out. “Let’s go home.”
San stays attached to you throughout the drive home, his hand gripping onto your own hand whenever he can, and quickly wrapping you into a back hug as you walk up to the apartment. “I…cuddle with me tonight?” you ask, eyes flitting away from his face, missing the brilliant smile that spreads across it.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he hums, walking with you to his room, and he lets you slide in first, the smell of his detergent filling your mind and your eyelids flutter shut already. San crawls in next to you, pulling you close.
“Good night, YN,” San mumbles as your breathing evens out. As you drift off into sleep, you swear you feel his soft lips on your forehead but you dismiss it as wishful thinking.
-
When you reawaken, San’s still curled up, your body covered by his, his breathing slow and gentle. You can’t help but blink a couple of times to make sure it isn’t a dream when his arms tighten around your waist and he shifts. “YN?” His morning voice is as rough as always, rumbling low in his chest.
“Hey, Sanah,” you greet him quietly, leaning up to meet his eyes blinking slowly at you like a cat’s. “Good morning.”
“Hi.” He dips his head to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your scent. “I should probably explain myself.” His voice vibrates against your neck and you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling.
“That would be nice.”
San huffs, but he can’t complain about your snark. “I like you, YN. I don’t know when I started to, and I definitely didn’t realise I did until I started dating Yeseul. I did like her, but not as deeply as I thought I did. It was so easy to break up with her as soon as she made me pick between you and her. The answer came to me without a doubt in my mind as soon as the question left her lips, and yet I still didn’t realise my true feelings.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, and you stroke his hair comfortingly. “I didn’t realise why I was so pissed about you going out with Juyeon, and that’s why I was avoiding you. It’s a stupid reason, I know. But I just didn’t know why, not until I saw you at the party kissing him. I just wanted to be there instead of you. And I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t like me anymore, but–”
“I love you.”
His head snaps up to stare at you after your sudden declaration, and after he registers your words a smile spreads across his face. He puffs out a breathy chuckle and you know his answer before he even says it. “I love you too.”
His eyes shine like you’ve hung the stars in the skies, and when they flit down to your lips, you know an unspoken question when you see it. You lean forward slowly, letting your eyes close once more when your lips meet his.
And damn, you were right about how San kisses. In a second, he deepens the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup your face while his tongue swipes at your lips. Shyly, you part your lips and he dives right in, licking into your mouth and biting at your lips.
“Sanah,” you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his plush lips. “Sanah–”
You repeat his name like a prayer as his lips travel down to your neck, littering wet kisses and bite marks all over your sensitive skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet to me,” San moans against your body. “Please, please, let me treat you right, make it up to you. Let me worship you.”
You whine as he laves his tongue over your breasts spilling out of the crop top you had worn last night. Any other time you would’ve stressed at how gross the clothes were but right now you could hardly even think about it. “Fuck, yes, please,” you beg when San nips at your cleavage, leaving a mark.
“Ah, already begging for me,” San groans, his hips pressing into your legs. “You’re so perfect.” His voice grows whiney as his sucks on your nipples, making your back arch.
His kisses move down your body until his breath is ghosting over your stomach and his hands are pawing at your pants, shoving them down as quickly as he can. He doesn’t have the same amount of minimal patience for your panties, and before you can react, he’s ripped them off your legs. “Choi San!” you scold, shifting to try and sit up but his grip on your hips stops you from moving too far.
“I’ll buy you a new pair,” San promises before diving right in and sucking at your clit without another moment’s hesitation. Your hips jerk and your core tightens at the sudden feeling as you throw your head back and moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream
His ministrations on your dripping cunt have you wordless. His fingers are pressing into your hip bones, the sensation making you squirm. As soon as his tongue breaches your clenching hole your hands fly down to grasp at his hair. “Fuck–” you squeal, your legs attempting to close but San just pushes them apart again, busying himself in your folds.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” San groans, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine as he lets his teeth scrape against your clit. You can hardly focus on anything at the barrage of sensations filling you up, San fucking his tongue into you so well. Your thighs are shaking as you can feel yourself grow wetter and wetter against his face.
When you tilt your head down, he meets your eyes as he moves one of his hands to push a finger into your hole. “Shit–” your grip on his hair tightens impossibly. “Sanah–”
“Come for me, love,” San groans, and you let the dam break, screaming out his name until your voice is hoarse, and San licks up your release through it all.
When he finally pulls away from your twitching and sensitive core, his lips are covered in your glistening slick, thick globs of it sitting pretty on his chin. Without thinking, you pull him down and crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. San groans as you lick his face clean, shoving your tongue deep into his mouth.
“Fuck, I need to fuck you right now or else I think I might go insane,” San growls, blindly fumbling in his nightstand to pull out a condom as he shoves down his sweats to reveal his hard, red cock. Without another thought, he opens the pack with his teeth, rolling the latex down his length with ease thanks to the precum dribbling down it.
He lines up, the tip of it kissing your hole, when you groan. You’re much too impatient for this, reaching down and holding him steady as you shift your body to sink onto his thick cock. “Shit, YN,” San grits out as you take him deeper and deeper until your cunt kisses his crotch. “You’re too much.”
You pant, shifting on his cock as you try to get used to the stretch. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but he’s thick and the stretch is almost too much. “You’re fucking talking, you fill me up so fucking well, Sanah.” You hiss as you throw your head back, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Fuck me already, San. Or should I go and find Juyeon to–”
You’re cut off by San thrusting into you so violently that you swear the bed shakes. “I don’t want to hear that fucking name out of your mouth anymore,” San commands, leaning forward until his body weight pins you down and your eyes roll back as he starts fucking into you with short, quick thrusts.
With every movement, you feel like you may break apart. You can hear every slick sound, the sound of it obscene, and yet all you want is more. Your previous release coats his cock so well, thick strings of it attaching to his hips.
His arms wrap around your waist, and before you can protest or do anything, he hoists you up until you’re sitting in his lap. You swear this angle makes him impale you even deeper, his cockhead kissing the perfect spot deep inside you. Your head drops to San’s shoulder, moaning against the fabric of his shirt. “Fuck, San, you’re so deep,” you moan high-pitched. “You’re so fucking good for me.”
San growls, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “You’re so tight for me, so much better than Yeseul. I saw you in the mirror, you know,” he whispers conspiratorially and you gasp and clench, snapping your head to look at him. “You’re not as sneaky as you thought, love. Did you touch yourself to the thought of me fucking you so well?”
You whine, words failing you, and San’s hips slow to a stop. You try your best to grind against him but his hands grip your waist, keeping you still. “Please–” you try to beg but San chuckles and nips at your earlobe.
“Answer me, YN.”
“Fuck– Yes!” you cry out, so eager for him to start moving again. “Wanted you to fill me with your cum so well until it was spilling out of me. Please, please, please, fuck me.”
“Hm.” And without any warning, San jerks his hips up into you, biting into your neck like a fucking vampire and you scream, hips stuttering as you come on his cock. You don’t think you’re making any coherent noises, just babbling into his neck as your bones become jelly from the overstimulation.
If you thought the sounds were obscene before, you swear they’ve become ten times worse as you lay limp against San’s body. He’s moving you up and down his cock like a doll and you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as you still feel aftershocks from your orgasm.
“Shit, you’re so warm around me, I’m gonna come,” San moans in your ear, his rhythm breaking as he drops your weight on his cock. You can feel him twitching inside you as his teeth sink into your neck once more. “God, I want to fill you up so badly, but that’s just going to have to wait, my love.”
After a long moment, he pulls out, groaning at your come coating the condom and his thighs. Without thinking, he dips his fingers in the mess and brings it to his mouth, licking it off like it’s the most delicious thing in the world to him. “Come here, baby,” he says in that beautifully raspy voice, and you lean forward, meeting his lips in another kiss.
This kiss is sweet and soft, but the lingering taste of your shared releases still permeates your taste buds. You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lays against the wall with you in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, pressing another kiss to the top of your head and it’s almost like he hadn’t fucked you like it was your last day on earth. “I won’t ever leave you again.”
You hum, turning your head to pepper kisses over his neck freckles. “I should be the one saying that. I love you, San. And I’ll always run to you with no hesitation.”
425 notes · View notes
bro-atz · 2 months
Text
prelude in e minor
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in which: your brain tells you to focus on your education, but your heart tells you to focus on professor choi.
pair: professor!san/afab!reader
word count: 4.7k
content: angst, smut, teacher x student relationship (college level, so it's completely legal mind you), san is a cellist, themes of infidelity, soft and sensual, completely consensual!
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: ...yes, i know, i write a lot of san angst/smut let's move on... also, i don't recommend listening to the song that inspired the title if you don't wanna cry but if you do, listen to the cello ver
network: @cromernet
taglist: @k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @aaasia111 @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @dutchessskarma @yourlocaljonghoe apply for the permanent taglist here! professor!series: yunho pt. 1, yunho pt. 2, san pt. 1, san pt. 2, yeosang, seonghwa
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He seemed too young to be a professor. It could’ve been because he aged beautifully or something along those lines, but he looked too young to be a professor. That was the only logical explanation you could come with as you gazed fondly at the professor you had come to appreciate greatly.
“Good morning, Y/N,” he greeted.
“Good morning, S— I mean Professor Choi,” you caught yourself before you could address him in the professional manner that he hated.
“Still waking up there?” he asked with a chuckle.
“Yeah…”
“That’s alright. I am too.”
He gave you a small smile that made you want to rip your heart out and hand it to him on a silver platter. You had to slap your cheeks to get it together, making the man laugh at your actions— he thought you were trying to wake up, but in reality, you were trying to slap the improper thoughts in your mind.
The thing was Professor Choi San was more than a music teacher— he was an artist. He created beautiful melodies that entranced you. At first, you thought it was the melodies you were falling in love with, but as you paid close attention to him— you had to because how else were you going to learn?— you started to note the little things like the way his well manicured fingers nimbly glided along the strings, the way his hands danced as he drew the bow across, and the way he was so focused on the gorgeous piece of wood between his legs.
Those little things piled on. During your one-on-one lessons with him, you couldn’t help but admire the way a couple strands of his hair would fall over his forehead. You wanted so badly to trace your finger over the constellation of moles on his cheek and neck, and God, you’d do anything to feel his fingers press into you as they explored the exposed parts of your body.
You slapped your face again, startling the man who was busy tuning his cello.
“D-do you need coffee or something, Y/N?” he asked with a look of shock on his face.
“Ah! No, I’m fine. I’m good now,” you declined.
“Alright. Let’s begin.”
The second you laid your eyes on your sheet music, all the dirty thoughts you had swarming your brain about Professor Choi vanished, and you were focused. Your heart may have wanted the professor, but your brain always made you fixate on your degree. Work first, love second.
“Okay, that was a solid run,” he said with a proud beam on his face. “There’s some sections we could clean up… Can you start at the fermata and end at cut time?”
You nodded and did as he asked, your fingers working effortlessly during the first couple of measures, then you struggled slightly when you got to the run. It was only the run that got you, honestly, because the section after was solid, but after fucking up the run, you messed up the rest of it.
“That gliss is not fun,” your professor noted after you muddled through the rest of that section. “Start slowly. Get the fingerings down for it first.”
That was the issue. You weren’t used to the key signature of the piece, and you had marked up the notes that were in the run, but that simply wasn’t enough. You worked through the notes slowly, but you still kept messing up here and there. Sighing deeply after messing up the run for the nth times, you lowered your bow and cracked your neck, hoping that making yourself less stiff would help.
“Here,” Professor Choi finally spoke up after watching you struggle for what felt like an eternity. He set his cello in its stand and walked over to you, your breath hitching at the sight of him approaching you. “Let’s go over the notes together.” 
Your mind was scrambling and your heart was racing when you felt San’s arms wrap around you, one hand over yours on your bow and the other one matching the placement of your fingers. You thought you were going to lose your damn mind especially when you got a good whiff of his cologne, but when you focused on the pages in front of you, your mind returned to work mode.
He ran through the notes painfully slowly with you, his warm touch turning hot and starting to burn a hole through your skin, but you were so hyper-fixated on the run that you didn’t realize how your body was reacting to him. Finally, Professor Choi let go of you, but he stood right behind you as you went through the run all on your own, this time acing it.
“Oh my God,” you turned around and looked at him happily, your eyes sparkling. “I thought it was going to take longer for me to get that!”
“You’re a fast learner, Y/N. Be more confident in yourself,” the professor responded, his body still right behind you.
You gave him a quick nod and turned back in your seat so you could play the run over and over again, your fingers dancing on the strings as you mastered something new today.
Professor Choi returned to his seat, his cello immediately going between his legs before he could even sit properly. He sat and watched as you went through the entire section perfectly. He was in trance until you called his name and asked for the next section.
Those moments when the professor physically helped you learn the sections you were messing up were the moments you lived for. Sometimes, you considered intentionally failing a section just so you could have him near you because you knew that you could never be with him. He was your professor, and that’s all he was ever going to be. And the other thing was that he had that gold band wrapped around his ring finger. It was never going to happen. You just had to settle for these small, stolen moments.
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Usually, you were good. Hell, you were fucking amazing and talented; after all, if you weren’t, you never would’ve been accepted into your esteemed college of music. However, you were all sorts of off during this solo lesson.
Why? Because of that man. He always wore a three piece suit that always reminded you of dark academia fashion— he apparently had no idea what that was— but today, he took the jacket and the vest off. The sleeves to his button up were rolled up, exposing his thick, sturdy forearms, and his biceps bulged as he held his cello in place. God dammit, how on earth was his suit jacket able to hide Professor Choi’s insane build?
And so, you were distracted as fuck, and you kept messing up— well, it was a combination of him and the sheet music you were sight reading when you were supposed to have practiced it before the lesson.
“Again,” your professor said, his low voice interrupting the pathetic, quivering notes of your cello.
Professor Choi was a patient man, but you had messed up so many times that you could see the frustration on his face, his eyebrows getting more furrowed by the second.
You took a deep breath and started again, your eyes fixated on the notes on the sheet. You were doing a solid job until you looked up at Professor Choi during one of the rests and saw him standing with his arms crossed over his chest. Your rest went on for too long, and you fumbled trying to get back into the song, only for the notes to come out wrong and really wrong.
“Stop,” he said, startling you so much that you nearly dropped your bow. He took his glasses off— fuck, he looked so good even with his glasses off— and rubbed his temples before sighing and putting them back on.
His eyes met yours, and the second you made eye contact, you noticed the tiny little mole above his eye, your gaze softening as you admired it. “Hey,” he snapped you out of your trance. “Look at me.”
You did as he asked, and your heart skipped several beats. You had never seen this look on his face before, this look of concern with his lips nearly pouting, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes sharp. You could barely breathe normally as he approached you and knelt by your chair.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice a lot softer from the strict tone it was at earlier, making your heart pound faster than the vivace tempo on your sheet music.
Yes. I need you to wear your goddamn jacket before I lose my fucking mind.
“No, Mr. Choi, I’m fine” you replied, your voice nearly cracking and exposing your lie because you were not fine. However, you didn’t have to lie as you continued, “I just didn’t prepare for the piece today. I’m sight-reading it right now.”
“It’s not the piece, Y/N. You’re excellent at sight-reading.” Professor Choi clearly didn’t buy it, a knowing glint shining in his narrowed eyes. “You seem to be distracted. What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing. I’m fine. I’m just tired, is all.”
“These early morning lessons must be getting to you,” he mumbled, finally letting you off the hook. “We’ll switch your timings to the evening, is that okay?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Truth be told, you liked the early morning lessons because it allowed you to have the rest of the day to yourself. But, you also didn’t mind the evening lessons, because that meant your lesson could go over time if needed.
“You know,” Professor Choi spoke softly, nearly making you jump as you didn’t realize he was still by your chair. He placed his hand on your knee and said, “You can always come to me if something is troubling you.”
“I know…”
“Good. Okay, let’s just stop here for today. Next week, we’ll meet in the evenings, okay?”
“Okay,” you felt like you could finally breathe the second he got up and walked to his chair across from yours, the knot in your stomach untangling.
“And be sure to have that sheet music perfected.”
Fuck.
“Okay.”
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Next week had yet to come, and you were all sorts of antsy in the days leading up. It was just your normal lesson with the same professor, but at least with a morning lesson you were so drained from the night before that it made it easier to focus on lessons instead of fawning over Professor Choi.
You were wandering around campus as you waited for your friends to get out of class— your class ended well before theirs, so you always had time to kill. You decided to head to the campus coffee shop and look over the sheet music for your lesson when you spotted him.
Immediately, your heart tightened. You knew about the gold band, you remember staring at the gold band and thinking how nice it would be if you had a matching one, but you completely forgot that there was a person who had the actual matching ring, and she was standing right next to him.
The woman was beautiful with long, dark, flowing hair that cascaded down her shoulders and back, her looks completely complimenting her husband’s. And then, hugging his waist as he supported her, you saw his daughter, a beautiful blend of both him and his wife.
You knew he had a family. You knew it, but that didn’t stop your heart from weeping. Rather than continuing to wait for your friend, you rushed back to your dorm, and you shut yourself in before leaning against the door and sinking to the ground.
You had no reason to cry. You shouldn’t have fallen for the professor in the first place, and this was the price you had to pay. You should’ve listened to logic, listened to your brain over your heart, and none of this would’ve been happening.
You couldn’t focus on anything at all— it was to the point where you literally just sobbed over your sheet music, your tears staining the pages of the perfectly preserved original sheet. So, you spent the rest of that week throwing yourself a pity party. The image of him, his wife, and his child burned into your eyes and brain, and every time you thought about it, it made you cry all over again.
Why did you have to go fall in love with a married man?
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Thankfully, your eyes were not red when you met with Professor Choi for your evening lesson, but your heart still hurt, and your brain was all fuzzy. Worst of all, you didn’t perfect the sheet music as he had asked. Perfect.
You played a grand total of six notes before Professor Choi stopped you.
“Stop lying to me. Clearly, something’s up with you,” he sounded irritated, but his tone was soft, as if he was frustrated not by you, but because of lack of understanding. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
God, you hated when people asked you that. No matter what the circumstance was, the words “Are you okay?” always made you cry. Your eyelashes fluttered as you looked down at your lap in attempt to keep the tears inside without making it clear to him that you were about to start crying just as you had been for the past several days.
But he noticed anyway. He quickly placed his cello on his stand before crossing the room and sitting right next to you. He gently took your cello and bow out of your hands, allowing you to just bury your face in the palms of your hands.
“Hey, talk to me,” he said softly. His hands pulled yours away from your face. He held one of your hands while quickly wiping the tears from the corner of your eye with the other, his eyes filled with worry. “You can trust me.”
“I’m just having trouble coming to terms with some things in my life,” you told him, intentionally being vague to protect your feelings. “I haven’t been able to focus all weekend because of it.”
“Do you want to talk about—”
“No,” you refused before he could even finish his sentence.
“I think talking it through would be help—”
You cut him off again by saying somewhat harshly, “I can’t and won’t talk about it with you.”
You shakily exhaled heavily, tears still filling your vision. You got up and tried to get your things and leave, but Professor Choi wasn’t done with you yet. He got up as well and grabbed your arm, turning you around to face him. He had a firm grip on you, but he made sure not to hurt you— he just didn’t want you to run away.
“What do you mean?” he asked you, his voice full of hurt. “Why can’t you talk to me about it?”
You kept quiet and avoided eye contact. You just wanted to get out of there and get away from him before you completely broke down. Yet, you couldn’t because he had both your arms pinned on either side of you, his firm hold on you making it impossible to get away from him.
“It’s because of me, right?”
You pressed your lips together and gave up. You gave up trying to get away, trying to not cry, and trying to deny your feelings. You responded with a tiny nod. Professor Choi let go of you immediately, a sudden realization dawning on him.
“God, uh, Y/N… I’m so sorry— I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that. You must be so uncomfortable… No wonder you’re acting like this. I— I thought I was careful in hiding my feelings, but you must’ve realized it… Shit, Y/N, seriously, I’m so sorry.”
His feelings? What? Your eyes dried up immediately and flew wide open, and your brain went from crying to just pure confusion. There were about a million questions you wanted to ask him, but there was only one you could squeak out.
“What?”
“You’re uncomfortable because I have feelings for you, right?”
He… He what? He has feelings for you? He has feelings for you?
“I didn’t… I didn’t know…”
“Then… Why…?”
“Because I’m in love with you, Pro— No, San,” you said his name for the first time out loud.
San exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair. He, too, had a million questions on his mind, but before he could utter any of them, you continued.
“But… I shouldn’t be. It’s wrong, and you’re already—”
“Don’t,” San covered your mouth with his hand. “Don’t say it’s wrong. Don’t say what we both feel is wrong.”
And with that, San moved his hand to your cheek, and he guided you to his embrace. He wrapped an arm around your waist and cupped your face as he gave you a tender kiss charged with all of the feelings he had for you right there in the practice room. You clutched the collar of his shirt as you pushed yourself further into his kiss, his embrace reciprocating by pulling you closer to him.
Everything was a blur after that. The two of you packed up your instruments and left campus quickly, only to end up at a hotel, your shoes flying off the second you entered the room. San was impatient the second you got into the room, but he didn’t rush a single thing. His kisses may have been intense, but in the same breath, they were gentle and kind. He hugged you while still kissing you and brought you to the hotel bed so that he could pin you down, his lips unable to get enough of yours.
He kept sighing your name, his husky voice making you yearn for him more, making you lust for him more. You slipped his tie off and tossed it somewhere quickly so you could start to work on his buttons. San groaned as he felt your fingers graze and move down his exposed chest, your hand going further as you continued unbuttoning. When there were no more buttons left for you, your hand cupped his clothed cock, the huge bulge aching to spring forward. You heard a hitch in San’s breath as you stroked him from the outside, and when you worked on his belt, he dropped his head to the nook of your neck and let out a little laugh along with a pleasureful sigh.
“San,” you murmured as he nuzzled his nose into your neck, his lips leaving faint kisses in the process. “God, San… I want you so bad…”
“Is that so?” he responded in the same register.
He raised his head to meet your gaze, the two of you breathing heavily in unison. You gazed at his face and brought your hand to his face as you looked at the moles on his face, the moles you couldn’t help but love, the moles that you wanted to connect. You started with the one near his eye and lightly trailed your nail along his face to trace across the ones on his face then the ones on his neck. Your eyes had been following the path of your finger, so when you stopped and rested your hand on his neck, you looked to see him softly smiling, his eyes exuding affection. He kissed you again, but it was a slow kiss, a long kiss, a kiss that made shivers run from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.
“I don’t think I can wait any longer,” you whispered to him when the kiss ended.
Wordlessly, San sat up, revealing just a sliver of his bare torso. He shed his dress shirt and let it fall to the ground. You stared at him in awe— he had such broad shoulders and a tiny waist, not to mention the thickness of his muscles, his entire being making you want him more and more.
The ethereal view of the stunning man didn’t last long. He moved back towards you and pulled your shirt off, then bra, then pants, then panties. His head remained down by your crotch after he stripped you bare, his finger nearing and teasing your clit while his other hand pushed your thigh upwards, your calf nearly resting on his shoulder.
“You’re even beautiful down here,” you barely heard him say, flushing your entire body with warmth and slight embarrassment.
The second you felt San’s tongue against your clit, your entire body reacted. You gripped the sheets with your fingers and toes, and your back arched, the man’s singular action enough to drive you crazy. He then sucked on your clit as he slid two fingers into your cunt, his fingers spreading inside you the deeper they went. You moaned and sighed loudly the more he catered to you down there, the pleasure starting to build up in your stomach.
As soon as he prepped you enough, San moved away from you, disappointment and slight fear seeping into your brain. He got off the bed and pulled a condom out of his wallet before removing the rest of his clothes. You saw his cock spring up, the thickness and length of it scaring you slightly. You bit your knuckle as you watched him roll it on, his hand stroking his dick slowly as he climbed back onto the bed.
San got back on the bed and knelt between your legs. He continued stroking while placing his other hand flat on your stomach. You watched as he licked his lower lip while rubbing the tip along your folds, and he bit his lower lip when he started pushing into you. He exhaled long and lowly as he fully entered you while you opted for a quiet moan. You could feel his every single movement the deeper his cock drove into you, his girth alone starting a fire in your belly.
His thrust following, however, was not as kind. He had moved his hand from your stomach to your waist, and he was gripping your waist in a way that made you have feelings of desire, a feeling you hadn't felt from another man in a while. He didn’t rut into you with his full force, which made you scared for when he did because the feeling his waist hitting yours already made your thighs sting. Plus, every time he pulled out, you felt like you could feel your walls being ripped out, making your eyes watery. You grabbed the pillow behind your head and tore holes in the pillowcase while you squeezed your teary eyes shut as San started speeding up, short, labored breaths leaving both you and the man.
You felt his hand over yours, making you open your eyes to a tear-blurred sight of San above you. His neatly styled hair was now slightly wet with sweat and shadowing his eyes, and you could see him gritting his teeth as he looked at you with narrowed, lusty eyes. His hands moved to lace his fingers with yours. A tiny bubble of his perspiration rolled down his nose and dropped to your cheek, the heat from the sweat making the blush on your cheeks deepen.
“You…” San sighed as he continued rolling his body into yours. “You’re so beautiful… Exactly how I imagined you would look— Hnngh— under me…”
“San— Ah!” You wanted to respond to him, but he finally used the entirety of his strength to ram his cock deep inside you, the action completely taking you by surprise. You flung your head back and cried his name loudly as he relentlessly thrust into you.
White filled your vision when you felt him hit your cervix, and you could only continue to see white as he leaned further into you, making your back leave the bed and his cock rut into you at a different angle. You came hard, your walls clenching, your fingers squeezing his, your tears escaping your eyes, your arousal squirting out of you.
You thought he would cum, that the experience would be over, but San wasn’t about to let this moment end so fast— he only had the one condom, and he wanted to fuck you longer, harder. He grabbed your waist and lifted you so that he was sitting on the bed and you were sitting on his lap, his cock still inside you and somehow filling you up more than it had when he had you splayed on the bed.
His hands guided you. They went under your ass, and he did most of the heavy lifting for you were still recovering from your first orgasm of the night. You held onto his shoulders and looked down at his face as he looked up at you, the two of you sharing your thoughts wordlessly. You brought your lips to his and let his tongue violate yours. Your hips moved slightly, your body rolling into his as he continued to assist you riding him.
You pushed San’s shoulders back, making him lay on the bed and you on his chest. His hips were still moving, still going, still ramming into yours, and his large hands were holding, groping, squeezing your ass. You, meanwhile, started leaving kisses on his beautiful, olive toned skin. Your hands wandered over his chest, your fingers running over his nipples and making his breath hitch. He groaned deeply and spread your asscheeks as he moved your waist forcefully, his hips continuing to ram his cock into you from below.
“S-San,” you whimpered as you started to see stars cloud your vision. “I’m a-almost—”
San brought one of his hands up to hold the back of your head and bring your face to his so he could kiss you as the two of you came. You moaned and cried softly into his mouth as you felt a deep sigh rumble in his chest. Your pussy and his cock both twitched and throbbed, and when he pulled out, you felt as though you were empty, that you needed him to be inside you to make you whole again.
You wanted to tell him to fuck you again, but before you could, he got off the bed. He helped you to your feet and said quietly, “Go take a shower first.”
There was something ominous about the way he said that, but you listened to him regardless. He showered shortly after you finished yours, and while you were sitting on the bed trying to situate yourself, he emerged fully clothed, a dark look painting his face.
“Y/N,” he said, his tone curt but sorrowful. “We can never do this again.”
“W-What?”
“I made a mistake… I’m sorry. You can stay here tonight since the room is paid for, but make sure you check out in the morning.”
San tried to turn to leave, but you grabbed his arm before he could even take one step towards the door.
“What do you mean? You’re the one who told me not to say this was wrong, so why are you all of a sudden changing your mind?!” you didn’t want to yell at him, but you felt so wronged that you couldn’t help it.
He removed his hand from your arm and looked at you, the affection in his eyes now fully replaced by disappointment and regret.
“I know… I did say that. But, Y/N, I shouldn’t have… It was my mistake, and I don’t want to make it again.”
San turned to leave again, but you hugged him from behind, making him stop in his tracks. You buried your face into his broad back and started crying, your tears staining the fabric of his dress shirt. “I love you, San! I love you, so please don’t do this to me,” you sniffled. 
He remained motionless in your embrace, slightly defeated. But, he managed to wriggle out of your arms as he said. “I love you, too; but I also love my family, and I shouldn’t have done this to them. I’m sorry, Y/N. We never should’ve done this.”
The words rang in your ears long after San had left the room. You buried your face in your hands and bawled your eyes out as regret filled your body.
He was right. You never should’ve done it. At least your heart wouldn’t have completely shattered if you didn’t.
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monstaxdirtywonk · 1 year
Text
Heaven is a place in hell with you pt. 5
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Member: San as Hades X Persephone reader
Synopsis: it's based on the myth but I've done some changes to fit my narrative for the story.
Genre: Fluff, Angst, eventual smut
The moment you saw the stairs opening you had a love struck expression and ran down to the bottom. Without a second thought, you hugged him and didn't let go until you realized you should keep your distance. But as you were about to leave his grasp, his arms wrapped around your shoulders and he kept you there for a bit more. He missed you. In comparison to his endless life 3 days were supposed to be mere seconds but they felt so long to be apart from you.
"How are you feeling, love?" He asked and started playing with your hair.
You looked up at him through your long lashes and felt like melting from his touch.
"Very excited to learn more"
He laughed and let your hair go.
"I have something in mind I'd like to share with you but first I have to spend some time with Thanatos because he is addicted to being around me at least twice per week".
He isn't the only one.
"It's not a big deal. I was a bit hostile when I first met him and I'd like to apologize for my manners".
"I'm sure he doesn't mind but you can do that yes. Thanatos is a bit of a prankster and I honestly don't know where he gets his positive energy given his...position. He might be a bit too upfront and friendly with strangers and some find this rude but ultimately he is a sweet friend".
You nodded. It wasn't his fault nor yours. You were a bit more grounded with strangers since forever but after getting to know Hades better, you felt more safe in meeting new people and getting to know them.
"Let's go to the throne room, he's gonna meet me there"
You followed him and took a seat on a couch near the throne.
"Can I ask what do you have in mind when you said you want to show me something?"
"Poems. I won't tell you anything more than that but I'm sure they will touch your heart with their lyrical nature and inspiring words".
Oh no, he is going straight for your feels. How are you gonna keep yourself collected, you have no idea.
You heard someone knocking and he told them to come in.
"Why are you even knocking to begin with?"
"I knew Persephone would be here so I didn't want to interrupt in case something was going on".
You took your hands and hid behind them. Maybe it'd take you more time to forgive him now that you're thinking about it.
"Stop making her shy". Hades looked at him dead in the eyes. He looked very scary when he wanted to.
"Sorry lord but teasing others is a habit I find very hard to get rid of".
"Just pull yourself together. What did you want to tell me that you couldn't wait and had to shorten the already little time I have with Persephone?"
"Ah yes...about that. I'm gonna leave for some days".
"Women hunting....per usual".
Hades sighed and he was gonna turn from passive aggressive to aggressive in no time.
"You take advantage of my love for you to live your womanizer life and on top of that you interfere with mine?" Just leave already! I give you two days. TWO DAYS. No more than that. You are lucky I even entertain the idea in the first place".
Thanatos smiled and came closer to Hades to kiss him and hug him but he had none of that.
"Don't be mad at me. I'll mature some day".
"Don't worry. One day a woman will get you for real and that will do it. Till then, I'm living with a teenager."
Thanatos laughed.
"I hope that will ever happen but we'll see".
"Thank you too" He said and you couldn't understand why he thanked you as well.
"You make him softer and easier to manipulate".
"Hey!" Hades yelled, blushing ever so slightly.
"I've always been so understanding, you have no room for complaints".
"That's true. But the last two weeks you've been even better".
Hades gestured for him to go because he had enough of his annoying yet adorable friend already.
"Byeeeeee"
"Two days, okay?"
"Yes, sir"
Just like that, he was gone.
"He is very energetic, I have to admit".
Hades laughed at your observation. His friend was very energetic and he couldn't keep his mouth shut either. He almost exposed Hades. Now that he thought about it, he had to keep him from going as a punishment for having such a big mouth.
"Talkative. Energetic. Dramatic. But very pure and gentle when he wants to".
"It seems like Thanatos isn't the only gentle guy around here". You eyed him in a "You know about who I'm referring to" way.
"I'm not that gentle. I cam be fierce too!".
"You did look scary when you got all serious with him before".
"I don't want you to think I'm scary" Hades was worried. He knew his looks made others have pre judgments based on his cold demeanor but he wasn't scary, especially for you.
"I'm not thinking such a thing don't worry. All I've seen from you so far is a wise, kind of grumpy but sweet man."
He smiled at that and he felt relived he seemed approachable to you.
"Now, should we do our little reading session?"
"Yes. I'd love that".
Hades went to the corner of his room and searched for a particular book in his bookshelf.
Sappho wrote many books about love and I wanted to share some with you.
It's not just poems, it's romantic poems too. You were panicking to say the least. It's so easy for a thing or two to spill when you least expect it.
"Let's make this a game. You're gonna go around the pages randomly, and the one you're gonna choose-without looking-is the one we will read first."
You loved the idea. Lottery with poems.
"Don't cheat! Look elsewhere".
You closed your eyes to make sure that you weren't cheating and your hand stopped on the 33rd page.
"This one" you said and gave it to him.
He cleared his throat and started reading out loud.
"Thank you, my dear
You came and you did well to come,
I needed you; you have made love blazed up in my chest--bless you
Bless you as often as the hours have been endless to me while you were gone".
Oh this was written just for him.
"That was beautiful" you clapped your hands in excitement.
"I made a good choice". You chose a good poem that spoke to you more than your own words could. Sometimes we don't want yet to admit how we feel for someone, but other people's words can be a happy middle ground to express how you feel without the added of vulnerability of forming sentences with your own words.
"You did. Every single poem of hers is a piece of art. It's like music, dancing and singing combined."
"Which one is your favorite?" You asked.
"There is a line that really speaks to me the most".
"Someone, I tell you, in another time, will remember us
Mortals don't have everlasting lives but they can have everlasting loves. Isn't it better to become immortal for what you've done, how much you loved, what you created, rather than live without purpose like in my case?"
His eyes got hazy and they seemed to become increasingly emotional. Without a second thought you moved closer to him, completely overstepping all boundaries and hugged him. He broke down in tears, feeling relieved he was in your arms and had someone next to him that could withstand his emotional weight.
"We make our purpose. It's all about how you view what you're doing, even a simple task can be meaningful to you if you change its meaning."
"That's true and I'm not complaining about that. I just want to find love too. Remember when I asked you what makes you long for the most when we met?"
You nodded and wiped away some of his tears.
"For me it's that".
You wanted to kiss him, you really did. But there was no going back after that so you hugged him instead. It was your time to cry now too, because you had to confess your longing for love. Your longing for his love.
"I feel the same way. I felt the same way two weeks ago too. But I couldn't admit that, not even to you, I'm still in denial about it myself. I shouldn't be like this as a nymph. But why is my nature so contradicting to my heart's desires?"
"I have the overwhelming desire to kiss you that I can't control. You shook my world upside down in such a short time span."
You wanted that more than anything too. You already felt entirely hopeless with your love. But you couldn't, it was too dangerous.
"If Artemis finds out about this, she's gonna kill. I'd die for you because I'd come here again but I don't know if you'd let me go through the most traumatic experience".
Hades started petting your hair again, erasing all those catastrophic thoughts from your head.
"As long as I'm here, no one will ever hurt you"
"That's not true and you know it. Remember what happened to Kallisto, when Artemis found out about her relationship with Zeus?"
Kallisto was a princess and she joined the nymphs and swore to maintain her virginity just like every girl that stayed in Artemis' circles. But when Zeus corrupted her and she bore his son, Artemis nearly killed her and she was ultimately turned into a bear. You knew Artemis was particularly fond of you, but you also knew how important her principles were and she wasn't making exceptions for others easily.
"But I will protect you. As long as you want me to, of course".
What is he even saying, you wanted him more than anything but
"I'm not doubting your power or glory. She'd never hurt you after all, but I am just an insignificant mortal and I will feel all her wrath for the both of us".
"Are you implying that I only care about my safety? If that was the case we wouldn't even have this discussion in the first place, I would just sweet talk you to bed and then be gone like Zeus does. But you are more than that, you are someone I will protect whether we end up together or not. I know most have selfish motives, even when it comes to love, but mine aren't. I'd sacrifice even my life for you , if I had one".
You felt really sorry the words you said sounded like that. You never doubted his ability to love, you only doubted his ability to love you, specifically. You felt entirely worthless of receiving his love, but ultimately he decided who was worthy of that.
"I'm sorry if I offended you in any way. I'm not scared of death, because it'd bring us closer, but I don't want to betray my mistress, my mother figure, who gave me so much love, a house and warmth. But at the same time, I don't want to live life based on others expectations, I want to choose my destiny and make my own path."
"I know about that. Artemis is admirable for adopting you and providing for you but I can see how you feel frustrated over the entire situation. I don't wanna say anything on this matter because I don't want to influence you in any way".
You were very grateful he had a neutral position regarding the whole ordeal. You needed some time to yourself to think about it before telling him what was gonna happen between you two.
"I don't want you to take a quick decision or feel pressured about what to do. I wasn't planning on confessing to you today. But I couldn't hold myself back for voicing one of my desires. What I said is only a small fraction of my feelings for you. But I feel like I'm gonna scare you away if you'll know the depth of my love so I'm gonna remain silent for the time being".
Your heart was beating so fast from the second confession that happened back to back. Your chest was raising and falling faster than usual, feeling flattered and aroused by his words.
"I'm scared to tell you anything for now, because I don't wanna admit how I feel yet. But if I will ever end up with a man, I swear to Zeus, you will be the only man I'm gonna be with. If that is what you wish for, of course".
You were tearing up again, unable to keep yourself together after coming so close to spilling out the depth of your desires. Hades laughed when he heard the last sentence.
"There is nothing in the whole world, the whole universe, the vast sea or the underworld that I want more than to be with you. So don't even question that for a second".
Now it was time to start weeping because he made it so much harder for you. You didn't have the will power to hold yourself back from ending up in his arms.
"Please don't cry love. We're gonna find a solution, alright?"
You nodded your head but didn't move from his embrace.
"You know you are really not that scary at all".
Hades laughed and you heard the vibrations through his chest. You were so happy you were able to lighten up the mood a bit and make him feel some relief for a second.
"Can we stay like that for the last ten minutes of my visit?" You asked him with pleading eyes.
"Yes sweetheart. Whatever my girl wants".
His girl. You wanted to be his girl more than you wanted to see the light of the next day. Being his girl didn't include a lot of sunshine to begin with, but he was the brightest star in the night sky.
Next chapter:
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frenchkisstheabyss · 3 months
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୨୧ ʝαɯႦɾҽαƙҽɾ (σɳҽ) ୨୧
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୨୧ Pairings: rich boy!seonghwa x chubby!fem!reader, rich boy!choi san x chubby!fem!reader, rich boy!hongjoong x chubby!fem!reader, mentions of yunho
୨୧ Genre: graduate school au/smut/angst/a lil fluffy
୨୧ Summary: It was never your intention to infiltrate one of the most exclusive social circles at your new university, seducing rich boys to get who and what you want. Wait, no, it was.
୨୧ Word Count: 1.7k-ish
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୨୧ Warnings: reader's in her villain era, demon line are wealthy low key villains too, strong language, some dom demon line/sub reader dynamics, you sleep with everyone darling, oral sex (m & f receiving), swallowing, pet names (good girl), obsession, probably a praise kink (who am I kidding? it's for sure a theme), jealousy/light possessiveness, sugar baby origins, unprotected sex, a lil drop of rough sex, marking, fingering, mention of multiple orgasms, public spicy stuff, light choking, scratching, nibbling, dry humping, & that's it, babes.
୨୧ A/N: This baby has sorta just been chilling in the drafts cause I kinda get nervous to post sometimes but I'm gonna let her be free now. This one focuses on Hwa moreso but Joong and San will get their time too. Yunho's also a part of this, just not quite yet. So, yes, I hope you like it!
୨୧ Part Two is Here ୨୧
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Observe a weekly study session held by three best friends. It takes place every Sunday, almost ritualistically so, at 3:00pm sharp in the apartment of ringleader Kim Hongjoong. Situated at the top floor of an old university office turned luxury apartment building, it has a vintage charm to it that somehow makes it feel more absurdly expensive than it already is. 
Observe that, despite their long held agreement that this is a “study” session, no one’s actually studying. Not Choi San lounging in the brown Italian leather chair, mindlessly chewing on one of the legs of his round rimmed glasses when he should be wearing them instead. 
Not Hongjoong painstakingly rearranging the shoes by the door. Seonghwa’s black Dior Oxfords can’t go near Hongjoong’s custom leather Prada sneakers. They are custom after all. 
Not Seonghwa who’s leaning by the window doodling on the crisp pages of his $200 copy of the Netter Atlas of Human Anatomy, an act that would be blasphemous to someone like him on any other day.
But no one’s doing anything they’d do on a normal day because this isn’t a normal day. They’re distracted, unable to peel their minds free from the events of last night and it’s all your fault. 
Staring down at the space between his legs, San can only think about the fact that you were there. You, the new girl with your pretty face and soft cheeks. Cheeks that were even softer as he gently cupped them, pressing the tip of his cock to the back of your throat.
The way that you whimpered, spit dripping from the corners of your mouth, is etched into his memory. If he could rewind time he’d do it over and over just to hear those same whimpers muffled by his cum filling your cheeks. You swallowed him so well, not spilling a drop.
“Such a good girl” he’d whispered, petting your hair as your head lay in his lap. Such a good, good girl. 
By the window, Seonghwa’s still sketching away. The level of intensity and focus on his face does wonders to make it appear as if the motion of his hand has even a shred of intent behind it. None of it means anything, just a half hearted attempt at busying a brain that keeps reminding him how he fucked you against the very window he leans upon. This exact spot actually. 
You, with your plush body and sweet voice had begged, as his lips met yours, “Please don’t stop.” It was pure bliss to have your nails digging into his forearms, the walls of your deliciously warm pussy clenching around him.
You were wet enough that your thighs were almost too slippery to grip when he parted them to sink in deeper. No girl has ever been that needy for him before, so desperate to be ruined by him. Fuck, he wants to ruin you. 
“I need a drink” Hongjoong huffs, rushing off to the kitchen. Drinking’s never been something he’s just done. He considers self medication through alcohol to be silly but what else is he meant to do? He needs something to overwhelm his palate and kill the nagging craving to taste you on his tongue.
You, with your bright eyes and innocent smile, had hopped your cute ass on the counter and let him drink from your pussy until he saw stars. How adorable you’d been, kicking your feet each time his tongue stimulated your sensitive clit, his fingers teasing your sweet spot. “One more for me” he cooed and you gave him exactly what he wanted. More.
It’s all any of them want now. More, more, more. They made a promise to each other that what happened last night could only ever happen again if you were all together. The four of you. Not three. Certainly not two. The boys would do with you what best friends do with all things, share, but sharing’s much easier said than done when you don’t truly want to. 
Seonghwa slams his book shut, snapping back to reality at a speed too dizzying for the others. “I need to go” Seonghwa announces, scrambling to shove his things into his bag. San sits up in the chair, popping his glasses back on.
“Go? Where are you going?”
“I, uh, I have to go look for something. I’ll see you guys later.”
Hongjoong steps back into the living room just in time to hear the door slam as Seonghwa exits. “Where’s he off to?” A question with only one logical answer that pisses San off the second it dawns on him.
“Where do you think?”
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The scholarships aren’t nearly enough. They were enough to get you here but being able to stay? That’s a different story. And so you find yourself here on a Sunday evening, picking up hours at the university’s library to make some extra money.
It’s a grueling schedule. Weekdays waitressing at a five star restaurant, weekends at the library, and every waking hour outside of that spent with your face buried in your books. Well, almost every waking hour. Lately you’ve managed to find time for other things.
Wheeling a cart full of books down one of the aisles, you nearly run over some girl’s feet. “Hey, watch it!” she shouts, shooting you a look that says she wants to tear your head off. “I’m really sorry” you apologize, slinking to the side to let her squeeze past.
“These shoes cost more than your rent, you know that?” she spits before storming off in the other direction.
Everyone’s like that here, always throwing their money in your face. Mommy and daddy’s money anyway. You don’t have what they do, it’s like they can smell it on you, and they’ll never let you forget it. “These shoes cost more than your rent, you know that?” you mock, picking up a book to slip onto one of the shelves. “They’re fucking hideous anyway.” 
“Uh, hey, everything okay?” a voice asks from behind you. You jump, nearly tripping over one of the cart’s wheels. Seonghwa grabs you by the arm before you lose your footing. Your knight in shining armor. Well, a cardigan really but close enough, right?
“Oh my god, Seonghwa. You can’t sneak up on me like that. You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”
“It’s a library” he laughs, straightening out your shirt, “I thought we were supposed to be quiet.”
“Not that quiet! What are you doing here anyway?”
That came out a bit harsher than you intended. Thankfully Seonghwa finds it cute when you’re sassy. “Yunho told me you work here on weekends and I thought…I wanted to see you.” “See me?” you ask, the book now clutched in your arms like a stuffed animal.
Seonghwa moves between you and the cart, pinning you against one of the shelves. This position feels familiar, a flash of heat rushing over your body and settling between your legs. Seonghwa toys with the hem of your short skirt, his knuckles brushing your exposed thigh.
“Do you like it?”
“Hmm?”
“Working two jobs. Do you like it?”
“Honestly, I hate it.” You draw in a sharp breath when his fingertips touch the marks he left behind on you last night. Sneaking both hands beneath your skirt, he traces your hips, relishing in the fullness of them.
Your thighs part and he carefully eases his knee between them, the moist cotton of your panties all that separates your aching core from his slacks. Seonghwa leans in to nibble at your bottom lip, “Then quit.” “Hwa, you know I can’t, ah…” you squeak, the book tumbling to the ground as he slowly grinds you along his leg.
He kisses you tenderly, angling you forward to stimulate your clit in just the right way. Seonghwa can already feel you soaking through his pants. You get wet so easily for him and it eats away at his self control. “Quit” he repeats, “I can get you a job at one of my father’s offices. His secretaries there don’t really do anything. You can kind of just sit there and be pretty. I know you can do that.”
Letting go of your waist, he pulls back enough to watch how perfectly your tits sit as you ride his thigh. “Look at you, doing so well already.” 
The quiet one. That’s how Yunho described Seonghwa before you met him. He’s quiet but no more innocent than the others are. Never let that innocent exterior fool you, he has a switch and when it flips he’s someone you won’t even recognize.
That switch, you can see it flipping on and off. His eyes bright with admiration one second and darkening with lust the next. There’s something dangerous about him but you aren’t exactly harmless now, are you? 
“You’d do that for me?” you ask, taking his hand and pressing it to your cheek. You nuzzle into his palm, taking his thumb between your lips. “Of course I would. I’d…” he loses his train of thought as you start sucking his thumb, the rhythm of your hips picking up speed.
“Anything you want.”
You can feel his pulse quickening. See his face taking on a pink hue. Your breathing grows shallow, the tension building in your core making your body shudder. “So close” you whine, running his hand down to your neck, “I want you to make me cum.” 
Anything you want. Anything for you. Seonghwa holds you by the neck, his other hand slipping into your panties. “Cum for me then like a good girl. Like my good girl.”
There’s a chance someone could hear you. Between the splashing of his fingers in your juices and the moans that spill out from your lips onto his, there’s more than enough noise to draw a little attention. That’s what makes it hotter. What has his cock straining against his pants and your eyes glossing over as the tension finally snaps.
Ruin you, that’s what he wanted to do, and look at you now, coming undone so wonderfully. How can he be anything short of obsessed with you? 
“So gorgeous when you’re falling apart.”
“Only when I’m falling apart?” you ask, leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder. Seonghwa wraps an arm around your waist, kissing you on the forehead.
“No,” he sighs, “And I think that might be the death of me.”
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cheollipop · 4 months
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⚜ 𝙤𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣
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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 🔞
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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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hongjoongsart · 2 months
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Reassuring Words and Mellow Touches | Choi San
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💐 IMPORTANT: Re-upload from my deleted account (hongjoongspoetry).
💐 Summary: Being a mother wasn’t an item on your bucket list, never has and probably never will be. You were more than content with living a childless life and it wasn't an occurring issue before, until you brought your boyfriend on a trip to your parents’ where his love for kids unveiled right in your face. You were adamant on your choice, but scared what the future held for you and your boyfriend.
💐 Pairing(s): idol!San x f!reader
💐 Genres/Tropes: tooth rotting fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, a lil suggestive
💐 Warnings/Tags: no use of (Y/N), mentions of pregnancies, arguments, explicit language, expectations that come with being a woman, reader doesn't want babies, pushy family, emotional invalidation, listed pregnancy side effects, san with kids
💐 Wordcount: 12.2K
💐 Author's note: Here's a lil treat inspired by my fear of pregnancies. I am not a mother and I'm not trying to offend anyone who is. I haven't experienced motherhood so I wouldn't understand the complicit feelings that come with it, this is more my observation of it I guess.
Edited 22 January, 2024!
AO3 Playlist Click on me!
This is all fiction and not meant to represent San in any way or form.
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Babies weren’t foreign to you even at the age of five.
You knew what they were; you had been one, your parents and siblings too, heck every living thing had been a baby at one point in their life. From the carrots growing in your grandma’s garden to the old ducks swimming in the pond down the street. 
Babies were cute. A bit annoying, but nonetheless cute. Probably the reason why your parents decided to have so many children or was it the nostalgia of holding an infant when their kids grew up to be living ticking time bombs. 
It wasn’t anything weird or something you paid attention to. It was quite simple too; people had children because they fell in love or to keep the relationship floating.
Children were simple beings. What they hear they shall question. Seeing your teacher highly pregnant, rubbing her stomach and wearing a gleeful expression, talking about birth and pregnancies and everything else coming with that had you taking in the information like a sponge absorbing water. 
“Mom, did you give birth to me?” 
“Of course, honey, I am your mom aren’t I?” You remember her gently wiping your cheek, a warm smile adorning her face.
You hummed in agreement, throwing a cut piece of steak in your mouth somewhat satisfied with her answer. Your eyes filtered between Hana and Jun, watching them push at each other’s shoulders clearly bickering over something so pointless your dad couldn’t bother stopping them. Not that it was possible, they were brought into this world together and separating them would only bring more chaos.
“Did you give birth to Hana-unnie and Jun-oppa too?”
“Yah! What do you think, airhead?!” Jun snarkily replied and got a light whack of the head by your sister.
“Sweetie, don’t hit your brother.” 
Hana rolled her eyes. “Even if he deserves it?” 
“Even if he deserves it,” your father concluded and urged them to eat. 
Another piece of meat was flung in your mouth as you stared at the family portrait behind the twins, focusing on your other siblings who moved out a long time ago and already started their own families. Your mother saw the bemused tingle covering your features.
“Go on and eat your food.”
A small pout adorned your lips, “How do you give birth?”
Your parents were more than prepared for the wonders of your mind, any question fired at them had already been answered years ago with your older siblings. That’s what they thought at least and it explained why the dinner table went pin silent as the question was flung out in the open.
The seasons changed like your father changed channels. Spring fluttered into summer quicker than expected. Budded flowers opened, the various colored roses adorning your grandma’s fence beautifully. The breeze welcomed you with open arms, proudly announcing the start of summer break. The transition between summer and autumn was slow. The rich green leaves took their time changing shades – red, orange and eventually an ugly brown that reminded you of wet mornings and cold coffees – before the howling wind swirled them away, stripping the trees of its beauty. 
As the years passed your My Little Pony boots were replaced with wedge heels and your favorite color wasn’t pink, but black – even though Jun argued black wasn’t a color – and before you knew it Hana moved out with her boyfriend, now husband, of six years. A small but evident baby bump peeking behind her knitted sweater.
You were seventeen at that time, the twins twenty-two and your remaining siblings already thirty-something. 
Her baby girl wasn’t the first grandchild of your family tree and she certainly wasn’t going to be the last either, because four years later she welcomed another child into the world just a couple of months before your brother’s wife. That made a grand total of seven grandkids, three girls and four boys.
You were very grateful to your mom for giving birth to you last and grateful for the free birth control your siblings provided you with. Despite their children having moments of incarnating the devil, they weren’t the issue to your disdain of want for a baby. 
Some said it was the lack of a boyfriend and others pointed out you being too focused on your academic studies – that your decision to start university was too hasty – depriving you of your youth, as if a newborn wouldn’t.
You saw what motherhood did to your sisters and in-laws, and it wasn’t anything you’d like for yourself. Not even after meeting your boyfriend, who you were madly in love with and he was completely head over heels for you, did your perception change. 
Babies were cute to look at, but growing one inside of you? No thanks. 
You glanced at San through the bathroom mirror, white shaving cream around his face.
“Don’t you have filming with the Return of Superman today?” 
“Yep, have to make sure the beard doesn’t scratch the kids.”
You laughed again, “Beard? I haven’t seen you with a stub in how many months now, let alone a beard.”
Your eyes met in the reflection, one of his brows raised and lips puckered as if contemplating something. He then let go of the razor and gently took hold of your waist and neck, pressing his sticky cheek against yours. You yelled out and tried to push him away, but he barely moved.
“What did you say about my beard?”
“You have a beautiful beard! So pretty and well-kept!”
San smiled brightly, dimples popping and eyes creasing as he planted a wet kiss on your forehead. 
“Thank you baby!”
The white cream was washed off with extreme care, as he was afraid of wetting your clothes and hair. 
“There you go.” He threw on a gray hoodie, black hair slightly disheveled but nothing that couldn’t be fixed with you running your hand through it. 
“I’d say thanks, but you’re at fault.”
He rested his hands on your hips, thumbs sneaking underneath the white fabric of your blouse to caress the soft skin beneath. “You’re lucky I love you.” 
Your twentieth lap around the world was filled with many experiences and emotions. You finally moved out of the countryside to the big city and found an apartment in the middle of Seoul. As much as you loved the feeling of freedom and independence you also despised it. Not having anyone waiting on you by the door, no home cooked meals or clean clothes neatly made on your bed reminded you of what you left behind. 
Although it was hard to adapt at first you managed and with the help of a friend you quickly adjusted to the busy city life. As someone wise once said; after rain came sunshine, and your sunshine was San. The boy your friend introduced you to when you still had little to no knowledge of Korean pop groups besides the older generations and singing ring-ding-dong no repeat.
At the time he was just San, a funny and caring friend you could be yourself with, occasionally going out to secluded shops for coffee and pastries. You never questioned the scenery and request of privacy, always giving people the benefit of the doubt, until a girl stopped you on your way to a morning class with the demand you tell her who you were and what connection you had to her Sannie. 
With a trembling voice you answered her truthfully, debunking any conclusions she already made up in her mind.
You didn’t go to school that day or home for that matter either, scared to be followed and questioned again by a potential lover or side-piece so you did the next best thing; stopped by a 7-eleven and spent your morning there before taking the first train to your sister’s unannounced, spilling everything like an overflowing bucket.
As the mature woman she was, she spurred you on to ask San. Saying you deserved answers to your questions and to potentially clear up any misunderstandings – if there were any of that is. 
The moment you told him about the girl, he came forward with who he was, something he admitted he should’ve done immediately, but didn’t for two reasons: a) you allowed him to be himself with no walls and b) he was worried the truth would scare you away. Heck, you were already chased just by being near him and you didn’t even know anything. To your luck, the girl wasn’t his girlfriend or a crazy ex, but a fan and San was an idol.
A few weeks after his confession your friendship progressed and blossomed into a beautiful relationship. You could proudly call him yours in the privacy of your apartment and he could wrap his arm around you – face masks and caps on of course – scaring the prying eyes of other men. He filled your solitude with the comfort and love you missed so dearly.
“Honey, have you seen my gray hoodie? I can’t find it in your wardrobe.” San stood before your closet, torso exposed and an expensive towel you can’t remember the brand of wrapped around his hips.
You were in the kitchen brewing coffee for the both of you. A plain yet pretty dress stuck tightly to your form, “Mmm, I think it’s in the basket with all the other clean clothes.”
The taps of his bare feet filled your apartment accompanied by a gasp seconds later.
“Did you find it?”
Large arms slinked around your waist and pulled you into San’s chest, he nuzzled his nose against the bare spot on your neck before peppering it with tender pecks, “Thank you, honey.”
“Always, baby. Here’s your coffee.”
You gingerly handed him the cup, but San had other plans. Ever-so-gently he titled your head sideways as his lips met yours. It was soft and made your stomach swoop as if going down a steep roller coaster. 
San had that effect on you no matter what he did. 
“You have to…get dressed or…we’ll be late,” you said between kisses. 
His chest vibrated against your back as he hummed in delight, “This is worth getting in trouble for.”
“I’m sure it is, but I don’t think Wooyoung will appreciate that.”
“I don’t care.” 
A laugh bubbled out as you rewarded him with one last kiss to the cheek. Eventually you both parted ways. San went first, wearing an obligatory cap and mask while meeting up with his manager further down the street and you followed shortly after, taking the commute to your workplace. 
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“So,” you started after placing the pot on the table between your plates, immediately filling San’s, “my parents invited us to theirs next week.”
He nodded, “I think I can make it, but I’ll have to double-check with the guys and managers.”
It was the first date night in weeks where both of you were free from work and had enough energy to meet up. You originally invited all the boys, but San was keen on keeping you to himself, claiming he wanted some alone time. If it were up to him he’d see you everyday even for just five minutes, arguing that the short time could give him the motivation to work harder. In return you reminded him the journey from his dorm to your place was a thirty minute long drive without traffic, the energy he’d get would evaporate in seconds.
“It’s okay if you can’t make it, Sannie. I know you guys have a lot to do, especially with the release of your new album.”
“Mmm, don’t worry about that. We’ll see first, but I’m telling you now. I want to go.” He reached for your hand across the small table and you returned the sentiment with a squeeze before beckoning him to eat.
You took notice of his upturned lips and crescent moon eyes. It wasn’t an unusual sight, San was always in a good mood and when he wasn’t he still mustered up a smile warm enough to brighten your day.
“What are you smiling about?” You teased, carrying a grin of your own.
“You should have seen the kids the other day, they were so cute.”
“Oh, it completely slipped my mind to ask. How was it?”
“It was fun and they were so, so cute. All of them really.”
“I can imagine, Sannie.”
“I don’t want to say too much, you still have to wait for the episode, but ohhh! I can’t stop smiling.”
You chuckled and enjoyed seeing your boyfriend suffer a hard case of baby fever. San loved kids, put that man near a kid and anyone in one mile radius would see it. That was how you found out. 
You were babysitting your niece one random Thursday night, your brother claiming ‘you owed him’ for something you did in your childhood days that was long forgotten. San asked if you were free that same night, but you sadly turned him down, briefly explaining the situation and voilá. The date was moved from a five star restaurant to your living room with blankets and ice cream and a toddler with bigger love for Bluey than her aunt.
San’s love for kids wasn’t something he expressed with you, but rather something you saw through gentle touches and light coos, a few stolen pecks here and there.
It wasn’t an issue to you. In all honesty, it was attractive because how many men did you know who actually showed interest in their children? How many dads knew their kids’ birth dates or their favorite ice cream flavor?
And yeah, you felt the same. Your nieces and nephews were cute, especially when they wore matching clothes for Chuseok and Christmas. Don’t even get you started on their birthday costumes.
But it wasn’t enough to make you want one. 
It wasn’t worth the nine month long journey of fatigue, mood swings, nausea, stretch marks and not to mention the painful process of giving birth and what came after; potentially loss of teeth, tearing the perineum, hair loss… the list is truly endless.
Not wanting kids wasn’t a problem until you stumbled into San who carried a love big enough for the whole population of South Korea. 
“I can’t wait till we have kids,” San admitted as you stuffed your mouth with a spoonful of rice.
The clock hanging above the kitchen entrance didn’t freeze but you sure did. The words would make anyone squeal and melt at once, however they washed over you like a big cold wave in the atlantic ocean and sent your food into the wrong pipe. San jumped up from his seat and patted your back while opening a can of coke with his other hand. 
“Drink this.” He pushed the beverage in your hands and waited to make sure you were alright. The coughing didn’t stop but at least you could breathe. “Better?”
You sent him a nod, not trusting your voice to keep its cool. San didn’t question the lack of response to his blunt statement nor why you nearly choked to death. The night ended with you two hastily filling the dish machine and cuddling together on the couch with you laying on top of him. A boring movie played on the big TV while you basked in each other’s embrace. 
Halfway through the movie you cleared your throat, not being able to shake the conversation from earlier, “You want kids?”
“Not right now, but someday,” San said, one hand under his head and the other rubbing your back. He then glanced down at you. “Don’t you?”
You turned so your chin rested on his chest, noses almost touching and his peppermint breath fanning your face.  The simple two letter word was stuck in your throat, and like the coward you were you swallowed them down with guilt. You shot him a quick smile and even manually crinkled your eyes to make it more believable.
Twenty minutes later and San was out like a light, the hectic schedules and plenty of sleepless nights getting to him in the end. Sleep didn’t come as easy to you. Mind too occupied with thinking, thinking and more thinking. Tears blurred your eyes and you didn't know if they were from the stuffy room or the guilt bubbling in your abdomen. 
The incident was pushed under the rug in your living room, neither bringing it up again nor the topic of a future family, mainly because you were both drowning in work and adult responsibilities. The days passed in a flash and when Friday came around San was parked outside the building early in the morning, welcoming you with a preheated seat and a cup of steaming hot coffee. 
“The twins and their kids are the only ones who could come. Mimi-unnie’s little ones caught the flu and Jin couldn’t get away from work.”
Coming from a rather small family and then moving in with seven men he considered brothers was quite the change for young San, so hearing that neither Mimi or Jin, and their respective families, could make it made him deflate.
“That’s unfortunate. We haven’t seen them in a long time.”
“Yeah, but at the same time I can already feel the headache coming from having seven kids running around all day.”
“That’s how Hongjoong must feel all the time.”
The image of seven twenty-something-year olds running around as toddlers and an exhausted Hongjoong not far behind them popped up in your head and brought out a laugh. Then last week’s phone call with your mother interrupted the vision and you got serious again. 
“Did you bring spare clothes? Mom said they were warning of a rainstorm.” 
“Yep. It’s in the trunk with your things.”
Your hands rested on your lap and San, feeling the need to touch you, gently intertwined your fingers with his and placed a kiss to the back of your hand. He occasionally withdrew when changing gears before resuming his hold. The ride was long and by the time you arrived you were exhausted despite not doing anything but passing San snacks every once in a while. 
Squeals of joy and multiple little feet padding against the hardwood floor had your lips curling upwards as you opened the door. You crouched down and were greeted with two kids catapulting in your embrace.
“Hello little chicks,” you said and planted a kiss on the crown of their heads.
“Did you miss us?” Borah asked, her small hands tightening around your neck leaving barely any room for her little brother. 
Before you could reassure her the door opened behind you and in came San, thus stealing the lovely cuddle session right from beneath your nose.
“Uncle San!”
He lifted both children in his arms and beamed at their giggles and kicking legs. You craned your head up, eyes trailing up to San’s closed ones, and your heart swelled with love. He looked like he belonged right there surrounded by tiny humans with toothless smiles and snotty noses.  
A tug at your sleeve had your head whipping forwards, “Kai,” you cooed at the youngest of the batch earning a blurb of happy noises.
The hallway proceeded to be crowded by the rest of the house. Hugs and kisses were exchanged with your family and out of the corner of your eyes you could see San exchanging a firm handshake with your father.
“You’re right in time for dinner!” Your mother gleefully exclaimed and ushered you inside, the little ones slinking around her legs like overly fed kittens mooching for more food.
The first hour was spent catching up and talking about everything you’ve missed out on in each other’s lives. Your father initiated small talk with San, asking him about the drive there and if he had a lot of work even wondering how the rest of Ateez were doing. To your relief your parents treated him as their third son and your siblings weren’t opposed to the idea of another brother.
You sat in between Jun and Jisoo – his wife – giving her all of your attention. Apparently she was in the middle of her second trimester, something you just found out. You sent Jun a quick glare and a whack to the back of his head, and as he was about to fight back he slumped back in his seat all thanks to the stern eyes of his wife.
“Here let me help you, mom.” 
San ventured into the open kitchen and took the plates from your mother’s hands. She tried stopping him but it was to no avail, once a gentleman, always a gentleman. So she did the next best thing. 
“Are you not embarrassed Jun? Sitting on your rear while the guests prepare the table!”
“I’m a guest too?!” He cried and Jisoo stifled a laugh behind her palm, the other hand rubbing her swollen belly.
“Yah, guest my ass. It’s your house as much as it’s mine so get over here before I rip your ear off.”
San stood by the table and waited for another chance to interfere, or as Jun liked to call it ‘buttering up to the in-laws’. You creeped up behind San and leaned your cheek against his bicep.
“You good?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed a lingering kiss to the side of your head. If someone knew what it meant to be separated from family then it was San, having not seen his own parents in how many years now?
“I’m perfect,” you replied and discreetly created some space between you as the rest of the family entered the kitchen. 
Unlike San, you weren’t very keen on showing public affection especially as you guys never did it due to him being a literal celebrity. You had no problem showering him with love behind closed doors, but it was different with so many people around and in front of your parents nonetheless. That was just forbidden, almost illegal in your books. 
As if they hadn’t done the deed at least four times–
“Well go on, why are you standing there like sheep waiting for Lassie.”
Everyone swammered the table per your mother’s request. You, San and Borah sat on one side of the table with your mother and father on each end, and Jun, Jisoo and Hana across from you.
“How is work, sweetie?”
You faced your mother as she filled your plate with food and you practically tore the spatula from her hands.
“It’s good. There’s a lot now that people are on vacation, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“You’ve always been a hard worker,” she grumbled. “And how are you otherwise?” 
Your brows furrowed, “I’m great too. What do you mean?” 
She stared you dead in the eyes, making sure you were looking at her too, and flickered her gaze down to your stomach and back up again three times.
“I am healthy.”
The bite you tried to hide slipped out and she couldn’t help but scoff. 
“Of course you’re healthy. I don’t give birth to sick babies.”
You don’t know when your mother turned so…sour. When her gentle touches turned to pinches and words of endearment became sneers of displeasure. Over one summer she had changed drastically and called every two to three weeks, asking the same questions, hoping for different answers.
“At least someone here is eating for two.”
The sentence struck you right in the heart and it bothered you how easily she got under your skin. As if prioritizing yourself brought shame on your whole family tree, it wasn’t like she didn’t have a soccer team of grandkids already.
Your sister-in-law smiled timidly and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for her being put in the spotlight just because of your mother’s pettiness.
“Oh, that reminds me, San-ah! We watched your Return of Superman episode,” Hana said excitedly. 
“Who do you like more, uncle San, me or Jaeyul?”
“Mmm, that is a hard question, Borah. How about this, I’ll tell you if you promise to keep it a secret?”
The five year old immediately nodded and San – keeping his promise – gently whispered in her ear, “You.” 
A gasp slinked out of her lips and she threw her hands over her mouth, the two exchanged a look and San made a zipping motion over his lips, a gesture Borah copied. 
“Wah, you’re so good with kids San-ah,” Jun complimented.
“I was just about to say that! We couldn’t stop smiling, it was so endearing. All of you, really,” your sister added and pushed her thick glasses up against her nose. 
San straightened at the praise. A dust of red covered his face accompanied with a bright smile. 
“I just love kids.” 
“Then it’s about time you get some, don’t keep us waiting any longer.”
Your body tensed and your grip on the spoon tightened. Your mother talked about the matter as if babies were truly delivered by storks and not an almost year long process. You kept your gaze on your plate, not daring to meet anyone’s stares, not when you could feel San’s bore into the side of your face. You two had yet to talk about the future and it wasn’t something you were ready for, especially not after his random burst of baby fever. 
San cleared his throat, “Well I’d rather first put a ring on your daughter’s finger, if that’s alright with her.”
Oh, how you loved this man. 
You didn’t need things to be official to know how you felt about San. A scribble of paper and a ring on your finger wouldn’t make your love more real, but you knew if San asked the big question you’d say yes in a heartbeat.
Heat ran through you, from the center of your heart to the tips of your toes, and it was hard to suppress the smile fighting its way on your face. The twins ‘oh-ed’ loudly, Jun even made the table into a makeshift drum as Borah and Jisoo jumped on the teasing wagon. Your father smiled at the scene before him. It was about time you got married, he thought but kept it to himself. Your mother on the other hand wasn’t all too pleased. As much as she wanted you to marry before conceiving, she didn’t want to wait any longer than necessary and with how your life was going, a marriage wasn’t an event in any of her five future calendars.
“Are we supposed to call you Mrs. Choi now?” 
A hard smack resounded in the house with a groan.
The dinner ended with no more personal questions about your and San’s relationship as all the attention was diverted to Jun and Jisoo’s unborn baby. Now you were all gathered in the living room, except for Jisoo who long passed out in Jun’s childhood bedroom. 
“Auntie.” Borah grabbed at your elbow, her legs stretched over your thighs as she sat in San’s lap with her head resting against his chest. 
“Yes, flower?”
Her eyes were droopy and she barely stayed awake despite the loud conversation of the adults. You inched closer to her to easily decipher her slurring words.
“I wanna sleep with you and uncle San.”
“Mmm, you want to cuddle with us?” She nodded tiredly. “Lemme ask uncle San first, okay flower?”
You caressed her hair and she smacked her lips before readjusting herself in San’s arms. Despite balancing between sleep and consciousness she was determined to know his answer. 
It didn’t take much more than a gentle ‘Sannie’ for you to catch his attention, “Borah wants to sleep in our bed. Is that alright with you?” 
He glanced down at the usually sugar rushed child and chuckled at her passed out form. “Of course. Here, I’ll tuck her in.”
While he went upstairs, easily navigating through the house from the previous visits, you stepped foot in the kitchen. The dishes from the dinner had just been pushed aside by your mother as she was dead set on everyone spending more time together, not allowing anyone entry in the kitchen unless it was to get more food. 
Although she was challenging your patience for the past five hours, you still loved her dearly so washing the dishes was the least you could do without blatantly saying it.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” 
Speak of the devil and they shall appear.
“Nothing, making your life easier.”
“Oh, please. My life hasn’t been any easier since you moved out. Constantly worrying about you.”
“Really, mom? There’s nothing to worry about plus it’s not like I’m alone. I have San.” You rinsed a plate and stacked it on the rack to your left.
“I know…That’s what I’m afraid of.”
A glass nearly slipped out of your hands. Your confused eyes met her worried ones and you bit the inside of your cheek, not really understanding what she was getting at.
“Why…I’m sorry, what are you exactly…afraid of?” 
The anxiety grew like weeds in your mind at her gentle whisper of your name. Did she not like San? But that was impossible; she practically referred to him as her favorite son-in-law. 
“Don’t you think it’s time you two get serious?”
“Okay!” You dropped the sponge in the sink and placed your soapy hands on your hips. “You really need to stop talking in riddles or my head is going to explode from anxiety.”
“There you go again with that anxiety. It’s not real!”
“Nope! Don’t try to change the subject. Say what you really mean or just stop talking, mom I swear it’s the only chance I’m giving you to be outright honest with me.”
A beat of silence passed and then another. Just as you thought she was backing down, the second most outrageous thing of the day came out of her mouth.
“Get married to San before he leaves you for someone else.”
You scoffed, “Unbelievable. You’re unbelievable.”
The rag hanging off your shoulder was snatched as you used it to dry your hands, but the anger proved that to be difficult so you bolted up to your room, not bothering with bidding anyone a good night’s sleep. You just needed to get away from the tension downstairs and, believe it or not, you craved San’s comfort.
Anger clouded your vision and all rational thoughts were pushed aside as you threw the door open, scaring San and nearly arousing little Borah. As much as you wanted to slam it shut, you couldn’t. Instead you did the childish-angry thing where you swing the door with all your might and stop it just as it was about to close and create an atomic-like explosion. 
San rose from his comfortable position on the pink fluffy carpet that teenage-you chose, eyes wide in alarm and arms reaching for you. 
He had changed out of the black hoodie and gray suit pants and into something more comfortable; a satin black pajamas you gifted him for Valentine’s day with a pair of semi-rimless glasses perched on his nose. Something about the look made him so domestic your anger nearly disappeared into thin air. 
“Woah, woah. What’s wrong?” 
You hid your face in your hands and San wasted no time taking you in his arms, bringing your body close to him. The motion had you sighing deeply as you exhaustively sunk into his embrace. San didn’t push for an answer and for that you were grateful. He rubbed your back and kissed your temple, nose and cheek.
“It’s my mom,” you eventually whispered.
“You wanna talk about it?” 
You didn’t move at first, weighing your options. Sharing the harsh words of your mom would lead to a conversation you weren’t ready to take. So you shrugged and clasped your hands around his torso. 
“Yes and no.”
“Okay, come here.” 
He gave you another kiss before moving you so your back was against his chest and shuffled over to the bed. He sat down by Borah’s feet, careful not to wake her, and pulled you between his legs dangling over the edge of the queen sized bed. His hands found home on your stomach immediately easing you off your anger. 
“We’ll do whatever you feel like. We can talk about it if you want or I can just listen to you, but if you don’t want to we won’t. We can find something else to do. It’s up to you, honey.”
You took his hands in yours and examined his each and every finger. A wave of nervousness washed over you and a distraction was needed to untangle your tied tongue. 
“She just said some…mean things I guess.”
“About you?”
You nodded silently. “About us.”
San hummed and you honestly expected a stronger reaction, but you should’ve known better. 
He was rational and never really lashed out, at least not that you knew of. You’d never seen him angry enough to act on it.
“She didn’t mean anything ill thought, but you were the starting point of it.”
“Look at me?”
As you faced him his eyes immediately found yours and in them were swirls of pure affection and sincerity.
“I love you.”
The skin on your cheeks burned hot and your lips curled into an embarrassed smile. The confession sent a magic tingle through your body.
“Where is this coming from?”
“I love you,” he said again, not satisfied with your response.
“I love you too, Sannie.”
“Good. Don’t worry ‘bout what your mom says. I love you and nothing will change that.”
Reassuring words and mellow touches. 
“Nothing?”
Not even your fear of childbirth? 
Or the idea that the two of you never may have children?
“Nothing, my love.”
And if he noticed the turn your smile took – going from happy to sad – he didn’t mention it. Because despite everything you couldn’t stop the gnawing thoughts of dread and what if’s from filling your mind.
“Did you watch the episode?”
“What episode?”
“The one of Seonghwa-hyung, Woo and I with the kids.”
Right, that one.
At first you didn’t purposely push it back on your agenda but the more you remembered his wish of starting a family the more chores you suddenly had to do and oh, that pile of paperwork could certainly not wait until after the weekend and when you actually had the time to watch it your phone would ping with a billion messages, every single one coming from San who insisted he craved to hear your voice and see your ‘absolutely angelic face’ – his words. 
So no. You hadn’t seen it.
“Ah, really?” He laughed at the speed you shook your head. “Well, let’s watch it together.”
“Now?”
“Mmm. Unless you don’t wanna?”
“Oh– Uhm, no! Go ahead, I’ll just change into something comfortable.”
Why he brought his laptop for a two day journey, you had no idea but apparently it worked in his favor because there you were laying on the side closest to the wall with Borah snuggled between you guys while the laptop was perched on San’s stomach, the episode playing in full swing.
Every interaction with the twins or Jaeyul made your guts twist and clench. You had to admit it was cute; so cute that your dinner almost went back up the same way it came from. You felt so bad and the worst of it all was the guilt that followed, the guilt of knowing you weren’t doing anything wrong yet you’d still be treated as if you were. 
And it was such a shitty situation, because how come that the man who’d single-handedly light up each and every star for you, also was the one to summon the clouds obscuring the night sky?
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You didn’t notice San’s lingering eyes or the way his fingers itched to hold yours or the three word long question resting on his tongue. Not that he was being obvious about it. Whenever you looked at him he’d flash you that derpy smile of his and a reassuring blink that lasted a second too long. 
It may have been unclear to you, but nothing passed your radar of a brother. He did have the maturity of a boy going through early stages of puberty, but you had to give it to him, he was observant. Too observant for his own good.
“What’s going on with you and lover boy?”
Thanks to Jun’s stupidity you both were honored with dish-duties. What you didn’t know was that it was all a part of his masterplan. 
“What?”
“I don’t know I’m the one asking you.”
You glared at him and he wordlessly took the clean tray from you.
“I’m just saying, we dudes, we see when something’s wrong.”
“So something’s wrong with San?”
“Not with San.” He put the tray in place and threw the rag over his shoulder, painfully dragging out the conversation, “With you.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me?” 
“Mm-mm, there is. You’re all tense and silent, and anytime someone mentions a baby you do this thing where you disapp– Yeah, just like that!” He snapped his fingers and pointed at your face void of emotion.
“I’m just not feeling it today.”
A gasp left his mouth and he looked around almost alarmed. “Don’t tell me you’re…pregnant?” He whispered the last word as if it was a crime that could sentence you to life in prison.
Out of sheer surprise and terror you smacked the side of his head. 
“Are you out of your mind?!” You hissed back.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“It is a no!” 
“Okay, don’t hit me again!” As you raised your arm he simultaneously threw his hands up to shield himself from your wrath. 
A third party watched the banter from the living room, his feet tucked under his thighs in a pretzel motion and tongue poking at his cheek. The three years you spent together, from the platonic start to the blossoming romance, granted you more knowledge of each other than anyone else. 
San noticed your change in behavior at the dinner table last night, after the talk with your mother and as you cozied up to him in bed. At first he brushed it off as jitters for not being home for so long and the overwhelming emotions of finally meeting everyone again, but the more he thought of it the more he realized it wasn’t like you. And he promised himself to ask you about it, he just needed to find the perfect moment when you weren’t being swammered by everyone else which proved to be nearly impossible. If you weren’t hounded by your mother or bothered by your siblings, then you were stuck with the little ones and their sticky fingers.
“San-ah.”
Hana brought him out of his thoughts.
“Do you ever see yourself having kids?”
The question threw him off guard because wasn’t it obvious? What more could he want than to start a family with the love of his life?
“Of course, but it’s not something we’ve gotten around yet. We’re not rushing anywhere either!” 
Hana nodded and took a long sip of her chamomile tea. There was something so uneasy with her watchful eyes and the slight purse of her lips that had San thinking a little too much to his liking.   
Was he missing something? 
And he really shouldn’t have asked, prod at her interest and start something he wasn’t sure he was ready for but being the curious cat he was, San couldn't help himself.
“If you don’t mind, why are you asking?”
“Mmm…you see, she’s not the brightest when it comes to children.”
That sentence sounded like an unstrung guitar being played with a dull rock underwater. If San remembered correctly, you shone the brightest around your nieces and nephews. There was never a dull moment with them, always bringing you to tears from laughing too much. He saw you with them; you were gentle, thoughtful and careful, and he was certain it had nothing to do with you sharing the same blood. 
San must have looked confused because Hana spluttered out an explanation, her hands waving around at the speed of light. 
“I’m just saying that because I know how you’re with kids. Anyone can see you love them and I know it wouldn’t be fair to you.” 
“What wouldn’t be fair?”
“Not having kids,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
San wanted to ask more questions yet he decided to hold his tongue. He wouldn’t be able to see the complete puzzle anyways and he knew the missing piece could only be received from one person – you.
“It’s a mutual concern of ours and we are just looking out for you.” She gave him a few pats of comfort, for what he had yet to find out, “God knows my husband would be devastated if I didn’t want kids.”
San listened silently, the frown on his face deepening with each word.
Did your sister not want kids? 
He followed her line of vision leading straight to you and then it hit him.
You didn’t want kids. 
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The images of San holding a toddler that was the spitting image of him; a head too big for its body, chubby cheeks and faint brows, haunted you every night. Some dreams were more vivid than others, but they were never the same. The most recent one was of the three of you taking a walk in the park. The little girl sat on San’s shoulders wearing a purple hat with cat ears while you trailed behind them, a matching bag around your shoulder and a camera in your hands. As San turned around you caught a glimpse of their bright smiles and identical dimples. The girl saw you and stretched her arms out, a giddy ‘mom!’ tumbling out of her mouth.
That’s when you woke up in a puddle of sweat. You could barely catch your own breath as you jumped out of bed, nearly toppling to the floor in the process. 
A cloud of guilt and shame loomed over you for various reasons. Mainly for dreaming of a future you could not see for yourself. It got to the point where you stayed up all night just to avoid the dreams. You picked up more shifts at the office, working late nights and early mornings, and it was a success until you cleared your whole schedule. Then came the idea of starting a new hobby; crocheting but your patience ran out rather quickly, who knew learning a double crochet would be so difficult? 
Your guilty conscience affected your relationship with San too. Dates were painfully awkward as if you were a high school couple going on your first outing together, stealing shy glances and looking away as soon as your eyes met. 
Then it was the skinship, whenever you accidentally touched fingers or feet collided underneath the dinner table, you’d withdraw so quickly as if burned by the scorch of a hundred suns. It was almost foreign to cuddle up on the couch too, San’s hands on your lower back and your cheek against his chest. At first you didn’t think he noticed the change in your behavior, but as you laid on top of him you could feel his heart rapidly beat in your ear and hands ghost over your skin, a trail of goosebumps following his faint touch.
Neither dared to speak up about the thick tension, assuming it would all go away in due time but the closer you got to the date of Ateez leaving for their tour in Latin America, the less likely it was to subdue. 
Little did you know San wasn’t feeling any better himself. Hana’s words played in his head on a loop, creating new presumptions of what she meant. She wasn’t that straightforward with her message and San could’ve either pieced together the wrong information or been completely spot on. He’d never know if he never asked, which proved to be harder than expected.
The few times your schedules aligned you were interrupted by San’s phone – Seonghwa and Mingi checking if he was dining at yours or with them – and if it weren’t that then it was something else. The days he made sure nothing could interrupt he’d chicken out last minute and smoothly avert the attention to anything remotely more interesting.
“Did you see Mingi’s new hair color?”
“I made Jongho promise to teach you how to break an apple in half!”
“Yeosang wants to buy a puppy!”
The confidence San possessed on stage in front of thousands was plummeting to the ground. Hard and fast. It honestly baffled him how much control one person could hold over him. Not that he complained, who was supposed to make his knees weak and brain all mushy besides you?
Knees weak and mushy brain was exactly how he felt as you opened the door, revealing yourself. You wore a black and white striped sweater with a black skirt stopping midthigh. The top was slightly big so you tucked it in your skirt. A small dark bag hung over your shoulder matching your leather boots. Simple yet elegant jewelry adorned your fingers and ears. You topped it off with black see-through stockings and black coat. 
“Is this too much for a night out?”
You were stunning. 
“It’s perfect, babe.” 
He handed you a beautiful bouquet of pink and red roses mixed with fillers, the brown paper gave them an old school look. You suppressed a squeal of joy and took the flowers from him, planning to put them in a vase, but not before planting a quick and shy kiss to the apple of his cheek. Your lipstick smeared on his skin almost camouflaging with the redness crawling up his neck, attacking his ears and cheeks, luckily for him you bolted to the kitchen, embarrassed at your own gesture.
You truly were like a pair of high schoolers, but for once you didn’t feel an ounce of guilt.  Perhaps it was your consciousness pushing the thoughts away for the night as it was your last date before San left overseas. 
“Ready to go?”
San was breathtaking.
It was no surprise that your boyfriend was a work of art, but there was something different about him tonight. Dark slacks accented his hard thighs a black turtleneck covered his bulging arms and slim waist with a gray coat hung snuggly over his frame reaching his calves. You always said his natural hair color suited him the best and it was true, especially when it was slicked back with a few strands falling over his exposed forehead.
You gulped harshly, “Yup.” 
You placed your hand in his and smiled as his fingers thread through yours like the roots of a tree becoming one with the earth. Giddy smiles hid behind your masks but the sparkle in your eyes was brighter than the night sky and its million stars.
San stuffed your woven hands in the pocket of his large coat for the short walk to his manager’s car and then his hand found its long lost place on your thigh during the drive to your favorite restaurant. 
You were addicted to his reassuring words and mellow touches.
San held his breath and was fully prepared to feel your body still at the skinship or for you to slowly pull away, but when you did the complete opposite – tightening your hold on his hand – he exhaled in relief. 
The restaurant was made for celebrities to have somewhere to go and enjoy their time without noisy people and overbearing fans. They even had a no phone policy to maximize the safety and privacy of everyone inside, that way the possibility of scandals coming out were zero to none. It wasn’t everyday you went on expensive dates for obvious reasons, mainly because of San’s schedule but also because you felt bad for him paying every time. It was no secret San earned more money than you, being a literal idol, but you still made it work somehow.  
For the first time in a while you felt good beside him. The unsettling dreams and thoughts of the future were as if non-existent and you didn’t want it any other way, at least for the night. Halfway through your second glass of wine San started blabbering about the tour. You wouldn’t say he was drunk, but rather relaxed. 
“So where are you going first?”
He thought for a minute, “Mexico, Brazil, Chile and then Colombia.”
“Isn’t it your first time performing there? That must be exciting!”
“Mhm, I can’t wait to see our Latin American Atinys. I know some of them have been with us since predebut. Honestly I’d travel around the world just to meet them all.”
“That’d be the dream wouldn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he smiled, “It’d be even better if you were there with me.”
His small pout and glistening eyes made you laugh, “Because that’d be such a good idea. I can bet all my life savings it would end up in a disaster one way or another.”
“What? Why?”
You placed your utensils down, “San, honey. I don’t think you realize how popular you are, like all of twitter wants to fuck you.” 
San stopped mid chewing, his eyes wide and brows raised to the roof. The loading wheel appeared above him and he smiled embarrassingly as your words finally registered, his teeth white but the tips of his ears burned red. 
“Yah, don’t say that.” He suddenly looked away as if he wasn’t showered with compliments on a daily basis.
“Well it’s Atinys’ words, not mine.” 
“You jealous?”
The cheekiness didn’t go unnoticed by you so in an equally teasing tone, you replied, “I can’t be jealous of something I actually get to do.”
And if there was anything better than a tipsy San then it was a flustered one.
“You shy, baby?”
He shook his head with a little ‘no’ that barely reached your ears.
The rest of the date was perfect – much to your surprise – and not once did the guilt ridden thoughts infiltrate your mind, not even when you passed a happy couple pushing a stroller on your way home or when you saw, what must have been, the biggest smile of the night on San’s handsome face. For a split second you thought everything would work out in the end. You’d overcome this obstacle just like you did with the move to Seoul or with the test you nailed after months of pulling all-nighters. But only for a split second because as the clock struck midnight your night took an unexpected turn with it.
“You need a place to stay for the night?” It came out more suggestive than you intended, however you didn’t mind.
“I don’t know, did you plan to sleep tonight?”
Your pointer finger rested against your chin as you pretended to think.
“If that’s the case then you won’t be getting any sleep tonight.”
A pair of very familiar hands grabbed your hips sending an electric feeling through your body despite the skirt separating your skin from touching. Your bodies fit like two pieces of a missing puzzle. 
“I wasn’t planning on it,” you replied and threw your head back against the crook of his neck. 
“Good.”
You were a feather in San’s hand and he treated you with care. Never too rough or foul, always considerate and kind but not opposed to it if you asked. He spun you around and stared at you with a million stars in his eyes, completely and utterly lost in the beautiful galaxy that is you. 
San cupped your cheek and traced your bottom lip with his thumb. His touch stopped at the corner of your mouth, his eyes widened as you lightly bit down on his finger. Your warm tongue against his cold skin. Your parted lips pulled into a smirk and it spurred San to push his thumb deeper in your mouth, now laying completely flat against the wet muscle. The innocent yet sultry bat of your eyes drove him crazy.
Reassuring words and mellow touches. 
He wanted you. He wanted to lick and nip at your skin, paint it full of violet and crimson clover. Make your writhe and turn in his hold until breathless pleas filled your apartment. He craved you beneath him, bare and vulnerable while he worshiped your body with praises and sinful words. He wanted to make love to you.
Yet he couldn’t. 
Not when you were both haunted by your thoughts.
He slipped his thumb from your mouth taking the sexual atmosphere with it.
“Love?” 
His eyes snapped to yours and he knew then and there that the art of love wouldn’t solve any of your worries, because at the end of the night he’d still travel halfway across the world with the nagging thoughts packed between his briefs and socks.
“Is everything alright?” You gently latched onto his wrist, thumb stroking the back of his hand.
“I love you,” San suddenly confessed.
A crease formed between your brows, lips glued together and eyes almost glossy. You were taken back at the sweet words but even more so at the way he was looking at you – almost sad. 
“Where is this coming from?”
“I love you,” he repeated. 
The scene wasn’t a sense of deja-vu, that much you knew, but rather a memory from a few weeks ago. A memory that was much sweeter and domestic than now. The response San expected to hear didn’t come as quickly as he hoped and through his tipsy vision he recognized a moment of hesitation. 
“Honey?”
“I love you too, San.” 
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” He suddenly asked.
The loving touches and flirty banter went down the drain and you were left with a silence so loud and overwhelming you couldn’t think properly. 
“What?”
“I said, what’s going on in that head of yours?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean something’s got you distracted.”
“There’s nothing going on,” you insisted stubbornly.
“Absolutely nothing?”
“San…everything's fine.”
“Except it isn't! I know you enough to see the changes. You barely sleep and this is the first time in days where I’ve seen you with a real smile.”
It broke his heart to see you slink from his embrace. Arms crossing over your chest and head turning sideway.
“Honey, please talk to me.” He sounded desperate. 
“And I am. There’s nothing wrong.” 
He raked his hand through his hair. The deep sigh whirling around your apartment. 
“Don’t lie. Not to me.”
You stayed silent yet again. 
“I’m here for you, always will be.”
“I can’t,” you whispered into the august breeze.
“What?”
“I can’t tell you,” you repeated a little louder.
“Why?”
“Because you’ll hate me!” It stung San into silence. “You’ll hate me and never want to speak to me again.”
He hungered for your touch, hands itching to reach for yours and as he took a step forward you took one back.
“You can’t keep it bottled up forever, love.” 
“I can try.”
Tears formed in your eyes and your voice cracked. You tried blinking them away but they raced down your cheeks against your will.
“C’mere.”
That was all it took for you to fling yourself at him. Your hands gripped the back of his shirt, nails digging into the expensive material. One hand cradled the back of your head and the other supported your back, rubbing gentle circles against your knitted sweater. San leaned down and pressed a long kiss to your crown, lingering and breathing in the sweet scent of you.
“I can’t breathe without you by my side so if you think I’ll ever hate you, you’re wrong. My love, you could break my heart a thousand times over and I’d still find reason to love you.”
Hot tears soaked into his shirt and you wanted to disagree but the tremble of your lips told you to be quiet so you shook your head violently instead.
You stood there for a long time, in each other’s arms with soft kisses and soothing touches. The emotions swirling around the apartment were too big for your shoulders and the rational part of you knew that you wouldn’t be able to carry them with you much longer.
“I don’t want children.”
It was interesting how a four worded sentence could either be the demise or rise of a relationship. What path your and San’s would take was yet to be determined, but God did you hope it was the latter. 
The argument broke out three days ago and while you've gone months without seeing each other, these 72 hours were by far the most excruciating period of your relationship. You didn’t ever think there’d be a person you’d miss this much. To see and hold, kiss and laugh with.
The first day was spent bathing in your own tears and snot. You were forced out of work by your co-workers as they didn’t buy your lie of ‘everything being alright’. It wasn’t like you could tell them your idol boyfriend of three years ran head first out of your apartment after an argument, absolutely not because you literally told him to give you space. So from nine am to nine pm you were cooped up in your bed, crying, scrolling through your socials, crying some more until you eventually fell asleep. 
The second day wasn’t anything better, except for the three tubs of ice cream you inhaled. They were kept in the back of your freezer for emergencies such as these. With a quick pat on the back for eating something you pushed the containers aside and continued your self wallowing, dressed in one of your (San’s) hoodies that smelled of caramelized sugar. Your phone blew up with calls from your family. Everyone concerned about you suddenly going MIA, but not enough to pay you a visit which you were both thankful and bitter about.
The third following morning came around and you decided that it was time to get your shit together. You still had a job to return to and bills to pay. It was all going well too, you cleaned the apartment and got rid of all the empty ice cream tubs, made a home cooked meal for the first time in three days, you even changed your bedsheets and did the laundry. The last thing on your list was a well deserved full-body shower.
The frantic ring of your doorbell fell on deaf ears as water pattered on your bare body and the tiled floor. Your fingers worked through your hair, rubbing almost painfully at your scalp as shampoo water went down the drain. 
It was first after you cut the stream and stepped out of the shower that you realized someone was at the door. With a roll of your eyes, you leisurely squeezed the excess water out of your hair and wrapped a towel around yourself. The chime of the bell didn’t stop and you were on the brink of insanity.
There were only two people with keys to your place; San and your mom. 
Your parents had no reason for coming all the way to Seoul in the middle of the day and San…even though your relationship wasn’t in the best shape you knew he’d never turn up unannounced, whether he told you by call or text didn’t matter as long as he reached out. He said it was a way of respecting your privacy and as much as you didn’t care for that, it was heartwarming. 
6:30 PM glared the digital clock on the console table in the hallway. 
All you wanted was one normal day. A morning without spilling coffee on your clean clothes, an afternoon without stubbing your toe on the desk in your office and a night without someone trying to sell you cookies or whatnot. It’d also be so much easier to crawl beneath your sheets and cry yourself to sleep without a maniac creating the newest billboard hit outside your apartment, but hey each to their own.
As much as you wanted to swing the door open and bark out profanities at the nuisance, you knew better and opted with looking through the peeping hole. Never did you expect a soaked San to stand there, rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet while desperately abusing the doorbell.
San didn’t have time to react, neither at the door being opened nor for you appearing with only a towel. You took hold of his hand and dragged him inside to which he shut the door behind him and somehow managed to take off his shoes. You threw him a spare towel and disappeared in your room. San stood there like a kicked dog, ears flat against his head and tail certainly not wagging. A few seconds later you returned dressed in one of San’s many t-shirts and your pajama shorts, carrying a change of clothes.  
You wordlessly gave them to him and escaped to your room again. San took that as his queue to get dressed. 
The run to your apartment gave him barely any time to collect his thoughts, too busy with providing his burning lungs with air and keeping an eye out for cars and potential followers. So now that he stood, not in front of your door, but in your living room he was completely shitting his pants. 
The cold and distant facade you managed to pull off in front of him crumbled the second you crossed the threshold of your room. You really strained all seventeen of your muscles not to cry and you could argue it was your best accomplishment yet as not a single tear kissed your cheeks.
“Hey.”
You looked up from your spot on the bed. Staring at your partner who stopped by the door. Your throat was dry and itchy, brain indiciseive of what to say and do. He wasn’t supposed to be here, that much you knew. Their agency had this weird rule of not allowing their idols out a day prior to their tour and it didn’t sit right with you knowing he went against their words, for you nonetheless. 
“San, what are you doing here?”
Unsteady sleeping schedules, caffeine filled drinks and insomnia were the standard for idols. Anyone claiming otherwise was either lying straight through their teeth or had a great planning method something San could really use these days. 
San was no stranger to succumbing to sleep at the early hours of the morning or not sleeping at all. The extra time was usually put into practice or perfecting his secret project, and sometimes something simple as laying in bed staring up at the ceiling.
But now it was hard to do any of that with you taking over his every thought. He found himself wondering about things that weren’t supposed to infiltrate his mind for the next five years. 
Get married. Move in. Adopt a cat. Have kids.
A short list of things that were crossing the line between adolescence and adulthood. 
The image of you and San doing that together spread a radiant smile across his face and his roommates, clueless as ever, couldn’t stop their own mouths from curving upwards. There was truly no other person he could think of doing any of that with and his heart was heavy as he realized he may never complete the list.
It took three calls from Seonghwa for San to acknowledge the older man sitting on the edge of his bed beside the open and empty suitcase. 
“Are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
Seonghwa leaned back on his arms keeping him from completely falling on the bed and stared at San’s computer screen, nonchalantly watching as he played one of his many games. The elder had come straight out of his own room from finishing a youtube live – a youtube live San crashed for a good fifteen minutes before abruptly leaving – and although Atiny probably didn’t notice the change of behavior in the younger Ateez member, Seonghwa did. 
San sighed as the last character of his team died and the word ‘defeat’ flashed in large capital letters took over the majority of the screen. 
“San-ah.”
Said man placed his expensive headset on the desk and twirled in his chair, and Seonghwa had a feeling the glum look on his features wasn’t from losing the game. 
“I’m not saying you aren’t. I’m just checking if there’s something bothering you. Something I can help you with?” 
The prolonged silence did nothing to soothe Seonghwa’s worries. He closely watched the hesitation slowly crack through San’s facade – bottom lip caught between his teeth, picking at his nails and eyes glazed over, darting literally everywhere except at Seonghwa.
Cautiously, he asked if it had something to do with you and his suspicion was confirmed when their eyes met. 
“It’s…complicated.”
“How so?”
“Because I thought of a thing and it turns out I was right.”
Seonghwa tried asking as few questions as possible to not overwhelm San, but the conversation wasn’t giving him much to work with.
“And what were you thinking about?”
San ran his hands through his black hair and looked as if he was racking his brains, he then violently rubbed at his eyes too. It was one thing to think about the whole situation and another to say it out loud, possibly speaking it into existence. 
“You don’t have to te–”
“Starting a family.” 
The trip to your hometown really did a number on him, Seonghwa thought. 
Cheeks red and palms sweaty, San cleared his throat. A little embarrassed at the confession and for cutting Seonghwa off so abruptly.
“I was thinking of what it’d be like to start a family with her.”
“Starting a what with who?”
Mingi stood in the doorway with parted lips and eyebrows raised to the roof, wet tufts of blonde and black hair peeked from underneath the towel on his head.
“It was just a thought.”
“And there’s nothing wrong with it,” Seonghwa assured.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t really matter.” 
“How come?” Mingi pressed, now leaning against the door.
“Because she doesn’t want a family…or well, at least not kids.”
Seonghwa and Mingi exchanged glances. All of Ateez knew of San’s adoration for kids. Heck, Seonghwa had front row seats to it and all. He remembered thinking how skilled San was with the twins and even with the energized boy. 
But none of it mattered now. If what San said was true – which he had no doubts about – then your choice went above everyone else’s, including San’s. 
“And how do you feel about that?”
San looked at the eldest. “There’s nothing I can do about it. I mean, sure I love kids I do, but I love her more.”
“Then I don’t see what the issue is,” Mingi chimed in. 
“It’s still a bitter situation Mingi, and Sannie has the right to feel…upset. Have you talked to her?” 
San groaned and buried his face in the palms of his hands, thinking back how it all escalated so quickly. The split second he tried processing everything, you’d already decided it was time for him to leave and pushed him out, crying how you needed to be alone. Too stunned to properly react, San did as told.
“I walked out…”
Dread filled their guts as Mingi and Seonghwa patiently waited for the remainder of the story. They hoped San wouldn’t say what they were thinking.
“She confided in me at first and then pushed me away, screaming at me to go and I…listened. ”
“Well that changes the trajectory of things don’t you think?” Mingi said after the minute long silence and Seonghwa shot him a pointed look.
“San, we are not leaving for the tour until you talk to her,” Seonghwa declared. 
The elder had no lover of his own, but he had seen enough movies to know how these situations ended. Spoiler alert: a painful break up for both parties.
San shrugged, “I’m sure Hongjoong would like that.”
“And you don’t think your girlfriend would? Listen here. We’re supposed to leave for the airport at seven am, I’ll give you the night if you make amends.”
Seonghwa stopped before San, a wide smile on his gorgeous face. “Besides, a family doesn’t become a family when a child is brought into it. If you think about it, the three of us and the rest of the guys are like a family, right?”
“We are a family,” Mingi corrected.
“Exactly. So who’s to say you two aren’t one too?” 
“I’m here to do what I should’ve done days ago.”
It was hard to look him in the eye. The sincerity in them had your heart in knots, tugging and tightening with your every breath. 
“Can I come in?”
San had his arms by his side and hands balled into fists to keep them from trembling. There was no doubt in his mind that you’d be in his arms by the end of the night, but it didn’t stop his pulse from skyrocketing.
“You’re already here.” 
A faint, appreciative smile crossed his features as he gingerly took the seat beside you. There was no real malice to your words and he was thankful because honestly speaking he wouldn’t know what to make of it if you still needed ‘time’. San straightened and breathed out a sigh as if letting go of all his nerves.
“I want to start by saying; I’m sorry.”
You snapped your head towards him, confused as to why he was the one apologizing. You were the issue at hand here. You were the one depriving him of something he wished for, you pushed him away. Not the other way around. 
“I’m really sorry for pressuring you–”
“San, no–” You shook your head, tears already threatening to make their dramatic entrance.
“Just listen to me, please.” 
And his desperate plea was their queue to waltz in much to your dismay. 
San lifted your chin so he could see your face and frowned at the tears. “I'm sorry if I ever made you feel obliged to push your feelings aside for me. That has never been my intention and it never will be.”
He cupped your face gently in both hands and wiped away your remaining tears with his thumbs. It pained him to know the tears were inflicted by his doing.
“I love you.”
“San,” you whimpered, barely able to get the word out. 
“Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe for me. I’m not leaving.”
That was your breaking point. You heaved for air as more tears blurred your vision. A heavy weight lifted off your shoulders as you found solace in his words and San felt his own heart break at your wails. Feeling embarrassed you abruptly stood up and put a hand over your mouth to stop the broken cries. Staying true to his words, San hugged you from behind and pressed you into his embrace. Chin resting against your shoulder as his arms went around your waist. You stood like that until your tears ran dry and cries turned into hiccups.
San whispered words of encouragement in your ear, lips grazing the skin with each pronunciation. Your feet moved with his as he maneuvered you to bed and under the covers. A meteor could hit the earth and he wouldn't leave your side. You laid there in silence with your back to his chest. His arm under your neck and the other curled around your waist, keeping you flushed against his front. Your occasional sniffles filled the gaps letting San know you were awake.
“My love,” he started and you shifted as a reply of acknowledgement, “remember that night at your parents’ house? When your mother said something to upset you and you stormed up to your room?”
You nodded while playing with his fingers spread across your abdomen.
“Do you remember what I told you?” 
“That you loved me and nothing would change that.”
He kissed the back of your head. “I still stand by that. I love you. Not what you can or can’t give me. I love you when you cry and I love you when you laugh. I love you through your anger and grief. I love your kindness and selflessness.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing, please. You should only apologize when you’ve done something wrong.”
“But I led you on. San, we want different things. You want a child–” your voice cracked and you drew in a sharp breath, “–and that’s not something I’m sure I can give you, ever.” 
“That’s not true.” He sat up and leaned over your body, “I wanna cuddle you to sleep and wake you with breakfast in bed. I want us to buy furniture and assemble it together only to give up halfway through. I want us to bake a ridiculous cake that ends up in a flour fight. I want all of that with you!”
San planted a soft kiss against the back of your hand.
“Children or not, it won’t change the fact that I love you and I’ll continue to say it until all the trees are cut down, until the ocean dries out and all the stars go out. I love you. Always have and always will.”
His caring words drew a smile from you and the harsh knot around your heart slowly came undone. His affectionate eyes searched yours and he’d wait an eternity for your answer, but you didn’t need more time to know what you wanted. Your hands caressed the sides of his neck and with a quick pull of his neck, your lips clashed in a passionate kiss.
Reassuring words and mellow touches. 
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© HONGJOONGSART 2023 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.
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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
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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”
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mingi
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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
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wooyoung
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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.
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jongho
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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?”
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