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#Burn Care Centers Market Sales
industryforecastnews · 5 months
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Burn Care Centers Market Size To Reach USD 31.9Bn By 2030
Burn Care Centers Market Growth & Trends
The global burn care centers market size is expected to reach USD 31.9 billion by 2030, as per a new report by Grand View Research, Inc. The market is projected to expand at a CAGR of 4.2% from 2023 to 2030. The increasing global caseload is responsible for nearly 180,000 mortalities each year, as per the WHO. The majority of these incidences and accidents occur in lower-middle-income countries in the Asia Pacific and Latin American regions. The current market is witnessing an overall increase in the cost of care, which is a major driver behind the growth of the market.
According to an article published on UpToDate, burns rank 4th in the common types of trauma, on a global level. It also states that low-middle income countries despite having high incidences of trauma, severely lack the necessary infrastructure and means to manage these patients. Another article published in Annals of Burns and Fire Disasters states that treatment and care in most of these countries are often delayed. Rural areas are more severely impacted due to the lack of proper medical facilities. For instance, in Ghana, only 48% of Pediatric injuries are treated at modern healthcare facilities.
In the facility type, the in-hospital type held the largest revenue share of more than 51.1% in 2022. The majority of developing and underdeveloped nations have a scarcity of specialized treatment units, due to which the patient load or volume goes to in-hospital settings. In these countries, the cost of care at specialized treatment units is much higher and is another reason why in-hospital settings record the majority of admissions. However, the stand-alone centers are forecasted to see a surge in growth rate. This can be credited to the growing need for the quality of care and management of patients that these units are capable of delivering.
In the treatment type, the largest revenue share was held by the wound-debridement section. It is the standard procedure in case of all injuries, this not only helps in avoiding infections but also promotes faster healing resulting in better outcomes. The highest growth potential has been exhibited by the pain management section for treatment type. Pain management in patients has come to be of paramount importance even when deciding the kind of wound dressing to be used for the patient. The pain during the healing process can have severe psychological implications due to which the recovery can be hampered, this is a primary driver for growth in this treatment type. A research article published in the Burns journal stated that the patient population studied considered several important factors while considering the type of dressing, nearly 80% responded with pain-free dressings as the most important characteristic.
The partial-thickness burns segment held the largest revenue share in 2022. The majority of the cases fall into the category of less than 10% TBSA. Partial-thickness wounds if not treated timely and properly can fester into infections and can turn fatal. The fastest growth is to be exhibited by the full-thickness burns and require management at specialized medical centers which are capable of providing advanced surgical and non-surgical interventions in care management. The in-patient services segment held the largest revenue share in 2022, owing to the increasing cost of treatment. There has been an overall decline in the annual number of cases, especially during COVID and otherwise as well. Workplaces have fire-safety norms in place to better manage situations to avoid accidents. The cost of care, however, has risen, and thus the market is growing. It is expected to grow lucratively during the forecast period.
North America accounted for the majority revenue share of over 44.1% in 2022. The region has the largest number of specialized burn care units, totaling to 120, across the U.S., many of which are verified by the American Burn Association. The reimbursement plans for patients also significantly support the growth of the North American market. The fastest growth however is being seen in the Asia Pacific region. This can be attributed to the improving healthcare infrastructure due to increased healthcare spending. As per World Bank data, East Asia and Pacific’s annual healthcare spending in 2019 was 6.7% of the region’s GDP, higher than the 2018 value.
The lack of proper resources has also been providing a necessary push to the concerned authorities to bring about the formation of specialized treatment units in the region’s countries. The above-listed reasons are contributing significantly to the growth of the market. There was an overall decline in the number of patients going to burn care units in hospitals or burn centers, the major focus was on the COVID-19 pandemic. However, due to global lockdowns and cross-border trade restrictions, the cost of materials and amenities shot up, ultimately increasing the overall cost of care being delivered to burn patients across the globe.
Request a free sample copy: https://www.grandviewresearch.com/industry-analysis/burn-care-centers-market  
Burn Care Centers Market Report Highlights
The market revenue is expected to reach USD 31.9 billion by 2030. The increasing need to find specialized care for burn patients is driving the market
The in-hospital segment bagged the largest revenue share owing to the limited number of specialized units
The pain management segment is anticipated to emerge as the fastest-growing treatment type for burn patients across the globe
Burn Care Centers Market Segmentation
Grand View Research has segmented the global burn care centers market based on facility type, procedure type, burn severity, service type, and region:
Burn Care Centers Facility Type Outlook (Revenue, USD Million, 2016 - 2030)
In-hospital
Standalone
Burn Care Centers Procedure Type Outlook (Revenue, USD Million, 2016 - 2030)
Wound debridement
Skin graft
Wound management
Respiratory intubation and ventilation
Pain management
Blood transfusion
Infection control
Rehabilitation
Burn Care Centers Burn Severity Outlook (Revenue, USD Million, 2016 - 2030)
Minor Burns
Partial Thickness Burns
Full Thickness Burns
Burn Care Centers Service Type Outlook (Revenue, USD Million, 2016 - 2030)
Inpatient
Outpatient
Rehabilitation
Burn Care Centers Regional Outlook (Revenue, USD Million, 2016 - 2030)
North America
U.S.
Canada
Europe
Germany
U.K.
France
Italy
Spain
Russia
Asia Pacific
Japan
China
India
Australia
South Korea
Latin America
Mexico
Brazil
Argentina  
Middle East & Africa   
South Africa
Saudi Arabia
UAE
List of Key Players in the Burn Care Centers Market
LAC+USC Medical Burn Center
Weill Cornell Medicine William Randolph Hearst Burn Center
Temple University Hospital Adult Burn Center
Parkland Memorial Hospital Regional Burn Center
Medstar Washington Hospital Center
UMC Lions Burn Center
Burn and Reconstructive Centers of America
Pediatric Burn Care Center (The General Hospital Corporation)
University of Rochester Medical Center
Chelsea & Westminster Hospital
St. Barnabas Burn Center
National Burns Center
Browse Full Report: https://www.grandviewresearch.com/industry-analysis/burn-care-centers-market  
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vijaypandit011 · 28 days
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A Guide to Finding the Best Commercial Printer Deals in Abu Dhabi
In the present cutthroat business climate, having the right gear is fundamental for keeping up with proficiency and remaining ahead. One such significant piece of gear is the business printer, an instrument that numerous organizations depend on for great printing errands. On the off chance that you're searching for a business commercial printer on sale in Abu Dhabi, this is your lucky day. This guide will assist you with exploring the market and find the most ideal arrangements that anyone could hope to find, guaranteeing you get a first rate printer without burning through every last dollar.
Why Put Resources into a Business Printer?
Prior to jumping into how to find the best gifts, it's essential to comprehend the reason why putting resources into a business printer is useful. Dissimilar to standard home printers, business printers are intended to deal with huge volumes of work at a lot quicker rate. They offer predominant print quality, strength, and frequently accompany progressed highlights like remote availability, various paper plates, and high-limit ink cartridges. Whether you run a little office or a huge partnership, a business printer can essentially improve your efficiency.
Where to Begin Your Inquiry
Finding the best commercial printer on sale in Abu Dhabi begins with knowing where to look. The city has various choices, from devoted hardware stores to online commercial centers. The following are a couple of spots to start your inquiry:
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To guarantee you get the best commercial printer on sale in Abu Dhabi , think about the accompanying tips:
Set a Financial plan: Realizing the amount you're willing to spend will assist you with reducing your choices. Recollect that the least expensive choice isn't the most ideal all of the time. Think about the drawn out cost, including support and ink or toner substitutions.
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Look at Particulars: Not all business printers are made equivalent. While contrasting arrangements, take a gander at the printer's details, for example, print speed, goal, and paper limit. Ensure the printer you pick meets your business needs.
Check for Guarantee and Backing: A decent arrangement ought to accompany a strong guarantee and client care. Guarantee that the printer you're buying has satisfactory inclusion in the event of breakdowns or deformities.
Think about Repaired Choices: In the event that you're on a limited financial plan, think about checking restored business printers out. These are frequently sold for a portion of the expense of another printer and can offer magnificent worth whenever bought from a trustworthy source.
Conclusion 
Finding the best commercial printer on sale in Abu Dhabi doesn’t have to be a daunting task. By knowing where to look and what to consider, you can secure a high-quality printer that meets your business needs at a price that fits your budget. By knowing where to look and what to consider, you can get a great printer that meets your business needs at a value that accommodates your financial plan. Watch out for progressing deals, and make sure to both on the web and disconnected choices. With the right methodology, you'll track down a business printer that upgrades your business tasks without extending your funds.
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kwikcars111 · 1 month
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Traveling by Car – Look for Used Cars for Sale in South Africa
Going via car is an energy that resounds with many individuals. The excitement of the open street, the extraordinary recollections manufactured with loved ones, and the comfort of individual car is a satisfying encounter.
Well, as the costs of new cars keep on soaring, numerous people and families are turning their consideration toward the choice of buying used cars. This is where Kwik Cars becomes possibly the most important factor, making a wide choice of cars for sale in South Africa that take care of different preferences and financial plans.
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makaankhojo1 · 3 months
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Property available to be purchased in Tapovan, Rishikesh: An Exhaustive Aide
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Rishikesh, a quiet town settled in the lower regions of the Himalayas, is eminent for its profound importance, yoga withdraws, and the peaceful progression of the Ganges Stream. Among its numerous areas, Tapovan stands apart as an ideal spot for property ventures. Whether you're looking for a serene retreat, a getaway home, or a worthwhile land speculation, investigating the property for sale in tapovan rishikesh, Rishikesh can be a remunerating try.
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Developing The travel industry: As an entryway to the Burn Dham journey and a famous objective for experience sports like stream boating and traveling, Rishikesh sees a consistent flood of vacationers. This makes Tapovan an essential area for interest in neighborliness properties like guesthouses, lodgings, and resorts.
Kinds of Properties Accessible
Private Properties: From rich manors to comfortable lofts, Tapovan offers a scope of private choices. Whether you're searching for an extremely durable home or a country estate, you can find properties that take special care of different inclinations and financial plans.
Business Properties: With the rising number of travelers and profound searchers, there is a developing interest for business properties. Putting resources into lodgings, bistros, yoga studios, or wellbeing focuses can be exceptionally productive in Tapovan.
Plots and Land: For those hoping to construct their fantasy home or foster a business project, there are various plots and land bundles ready to move. Buying land gives the adaptability to plan and build as per your vision.
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Exceptional yield on Speculation: The developing prevalence of Rishikesh as a vacationer location guarantees an exceptional yield on venture for land owners. Rental yields from both private and business properties are alluring, turning out a consistent revenue stream.
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Consider Future Advancement Plans: Check for any impending foundation activities or improvements in the space that could upgrade the worth of your property later on.
End
Putting resources into property available to be purchased in Tapovan, Rishikesh offers an extraordinary mix of profound enhancement, normal magnificence, and monetary development. Whether you are searching for a tranquil spot to live, an occasion retreat, or a beneficial venture an open door, Tapovan presents an optimal decision. Embrace the quiet way of life and receive the rewards of possessing property in this pleasant and profoundly lively area.
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astutemarketresearch · 11 months
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UK Medical Compression Garments Market Insights, Growth & Forecast 2022 to 2030
Astute Analytica created the Global UK Medical Compression Garments Market Research Report based on a thorough understanding of the client’s needs.
This research offers details on the regional and worldwide market conditions as they are right now. This offers insightful information on the world market. This industry analysis report provides specifics on market forces, market constraints, and their impact on market demand going forward. The market research provides a broad overview of this sector.
The UK Medical Compression Garments Market is estimated to witness a rise in its revenue from US$ 150.3 Mn in 2021 to US$ 238.7 Mn by 2030, registering a CAGR of 5.5% over the forecast period 2022–2030.
Download the Comprehensive PDF Strategic Report for Exclusive Details: https://www.astuteanalytica.com/request-sample/uk-medical-compression-garments-market
The report includes data on businesses, app categories, nations, and geographies. These reports include data on trade, investments, sales, and turnover. The impact of COVID-19 on the upstream, midstream, and downstream businesses is examined via market research. This research uses statistics to analyze a number of different aspects of the industry.
The report on the worldwide UK Medical Compression Garments Market looks at prospective expansion in various applications and geographical areas. The impact of industry demography and industry growth are examined in this study. The study looks at preferred channels, domain drivers, and market dynamics in emerging markets. There are also restraints in it. Prices, revenues, revenue growth, and production costs were all analyzed.
The elements in this study have the potential to significantly impact market expansion throughout the projected period. Access to the necessary data is made simple by the availability of a market dashboard with all the specifics. There are various components to the UK Medical Compression Garments Market Analysis and Future Outlook. This report contains facts and information that can help businesses decide more wisely and increase their return on investment (ROI). CAGR figures are used in this study to quantify changes in or increases in product demand throughout a predicted period.
Leading Companies
The key players in the UK Medical Compression Garments Market are Medi GmbH and Co. Kg, LIPOELASTIC, Essity AB, Eurosurgical and Medasun Medical among others. Through extensive research, it is found that big players have adopted various competitive strategies such as mergers & acquisitions in order to have a grip on the emerging market. Furthermore, leading companies are expanding their geographical boundaries by acquiring small brands and domestic companies.
Explore the Full Comprehensive Report Here: https://www.astuteanalytica.com/industry-report/uk-medical-compression-garments-market
Segmentation Outline
The following are the different segments of the UK Medical Compression Garments Market:
By Product segment of the UK Medical Compression Garments Market is sub-segmented into:
Upper Compression Garments
Lower Compression Garments
Anti-embolism Stockings
Others
By Class segment of the UK Medical Compression Garments Market is sub-segmented into:
Class 1 (14–17 mmHg)
Class 2 (18–24 mmHg)
Class 3 (25–35 mmHg)
By Application segment of the UK Medical Compression Garments Market is sub-segmented into:
Varicose Vein
Deep Vein Thrombosis
Wound Care
Burns
Oncology
Other
By End User segment of the UK Medical Compression Garments Market is sub-segmented into:
Hospitals
Clinics
Ambulatory Surgical Centers
Other
Important Developments in the UK Medical Compression Garments Market:
The report examines manufacturers’ profiles, news, main companies, and revenue.
To demonstrate the intense competition that the top manufacturers in the world deal with.
Presenting the market by kind and application, along with each type’s revenue, sales, and growth rates.
An examination of the major nations in North America according to manufacturer, application, and kind. Southeast Asia and Europe. Latin America. Sales, turnover, and market shares for manufacturers.
The report examines the manufacturing expenses, raw resources, and production process.
Grab Your Sample PDF Report for Deeper Understanding: https://www.astuteanalytica.com/request-sample/uk-medical-compression-garments-market
About Astute Analytica: Astute Analytica is a renowned global analytics and advisory company, having swiftly established a strong reputation through the tangible and impressive results delivered to our valued clients. Our commitment lies in providing unparalleled, in-depth, and remarkably accurate estimates and projections to demanding clients across diverse industries, such as technology, healthcare, chemicals, semiconductors, FMCG, and more, drawing from a wide spectrum of satisfied and returning customers from around the world.
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rohans18 · 1 year
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Wound Irrigation Systems Market Trends, Share, Competitive Dynamics, Demand - Forecast 2030
Global Wound Irrigation Systems Market, By Type (Manual, Battery-Operated), Product Type (Irrigation Fluids, Antiseptics, Topical Antibiotics, Wetting Agents), End-User (Hospitals, Ambulatory Surgical Centres, Clinics, Long-Term Care Centers, Home Care Centers), Wound Type (Burns, Chronic Wounds) - Industry Trends and Forecast to 2030.
In the consistent Wound Irrigation Systems market research report, industry trends are put together on macro level with which clients can figure out market landscape and possible future issues about Wound Irrigation Systems industry. The scope of this market report include but is not limited to latest trends, market segmentation, new market entry, industry forecasting, future directions, opportunity identification, strategic analysis and planning, target market analysis, insights and innovation. The report presents with the CAGR value fluctuations for the specific forecasted period which helps decide costing and investment strategies. An influential Wound Irrigation Systems market report brings precise and exact market research information that drives business into the right direction.
Key Players
Zydus Group (India)
Torrent Pharmaceuticals Ltd. (India)
Eli Lilly and Company (U.S.)
Sun Pharmaceutical Industries Ltd. (India)
Aurobindo Pharma (India)
Lupin (India)
Mylan N.V. (U.S.)
Teva Pharmaceutical Industries Ltd. (Israel)
Alembic Pharmaceuticals Limited (India)
Coloplast Group (Denmark)
Browse More Info @ https://www.databridgemarketresearch.com/reports/global-wound-irrigation-systems-market
The research studies entailed in the winning Wound Irrigation Systems market report supports to estimate several important aspects that includes but are not limited to investment in a rising market, success of a new product, and expansion of market share. The strategies underlined here mainly consist of new product launches, expansions, agreements, joint ventures, partnerships, acquisitions, and others that boost footprints in this market. Several other factors such as import, export, gross margin, price, cost, and consumption are also analyzed under the section of production, supply, sales and market status.
Key questions answered in the report:
Which product segment will grab a lion’s share?
Which regional market will emerge as a frontrunner in coming years?
Which application segment will grow at a robust rate?
Report provides insights on the following pointers:
Market Penetration: Comprehensive information on the product portfolios of the top players in the Wound Irrigation Systems Market.
Product Development/Innovation: Detailed insights on the upcoming technologies, R&D activities, and product launches in the market.
Competitive Assessment: In-depth assessment of the market strategies, geographic and business segments of the leading players in the market.
Table Of Content
Part 01: Executive Summary
Part 02: Scope Of The Report
Part 03:  Global Market
Part 04: Global Market Size
Part 05: Global Market Segmentation By Product
Part 06: Five Forces Analysis
 More Reports:
Diuretic Drugs Market
Patient Engagement Technology Market
Healthcare Business Intelligence Market
Chinese Hamster Ovary cells (CHO) Market
Anti-cancer Drug Market
About Us:
Data Bridge Market Research set forth itself as an unconventional and neoteric Market research and consulting firm with unparalleled level of resilience and integrated approaches. We are determined to unearth the best market opportunities and foster efficient information for your business to thrive in the market
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Compression Garments and Stockings Market 2022 Report Overview, Company Profiles, Consumption by Region, Value Chain and Sales Analysis to 2029
Increasing demand for compression garments to avoid sports injuries is prominently driving sales of compression garments and stockings in the global market. Surpassing revenues worth US$ 2.8 Bn in 2022, global compression garments and stockings market is projected for a promising CAGR during the forecast period (2022 – 2029). Ascending prevalence of varicose veins will remain a significant contributor to the growth of compression garments and stockings market.
Manufacturers of compression garments and stockings would maintain their strategic focus on advancements in fabric technology and innovation in fabric materials to provide patients with increased comfort and efficiency.
Increasing frequency of new product launches, which are centered around improved safety and comfort for patients, would continue to propel the number of products sold annually. Chiropractors and physiotherapists, prescribing compression garments and stockings for degenerative disorders are fueling the market growth.
Key Takeaways – Compression Garments and Stockings Market Study
Growing adoption of compression garments for orthopaedic post-surgical pain management, has contributed to the significant market share of the segment by product type.
Hospitals to remain as prominent distribution channel for compression garments and stockings for patients suffering from muscle pain, swelling and bone-related injuries.
Online sales of compression garments and stocking are gathering momentum owing to favorable discounts and free shipping offered by various platforms.
Growing preference for compression garments and stockings among geriatric population in Western Europe, contributed to the significant dominance of the region in compression garments and stockings market.
Increasing number of sports injuries and wounds are expected to drive the compression garments and stockings market growth. Strict norms for the use of compression garments and stockings among armed forces personnel and athletes are anticipated to propel the market growth.
Browse Full Report: https://www.futuremarketinsights.com/reports/compression-garments-and-stockings-market
Rising Awareness Holds Key to Unlock New Markets
The key manufacturers in the global compression garments and stockings market are keen to spread awareness about the benefits offered by compression garments and stockings. In May 2017, BSN Medical hosted panel discussions on chronic venous diseases and wound infection management at EWMA 2017. Medi GmbH & Co. KG spreads awareness through its alliance with German Society for Arthroscopy and Joint Surgery, Eurocom, German Association for Shoulder and Elbow Surgery, German Knee Society and other associations.
More About Compression Garments and Stockings Market Study
Future Market Insights brings the comprehensive research report on forecasted revenue growth at global, regional, and country levels and provides an analysis of the latest industry trends in each of segments from 2015 to 2029. The global compression garments and stockings market is segmented in detail to cover every aspect of the market and present a complete market intelligence approach to the reader.
The study provides compelling insights on compression garments and stockings market on the basis of product type (compression garments, compression stockings), application (varicose vein, wound care, burns, oncology, other indications) and distribution channel (hospitals, ambulatory surgical centers, clinics, online sales, other healthcare facilities) across seven major regions.
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hakesbros · 2 years
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Casita Las Cruces Nm Trovit
This three Bedroom with 2 Baths Ranch Home Is Immaculate & Full Of Upgrades! Enjoy the ground plan which gives it a great home feeling! Look no further for that excellent piece of land to build new homes las cruces or place your dream home! Site-built, Double-wide Mobile Homes and Modular Homes only. Farm animals allowed and to prime it off; owner-financing options are available.
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propertyforsale000 · 2 years
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M3M Hillside Sector 79 Gurugram - A Moment Of Buying A New Home
M3M Properties Launch Is a Residential Project in M3M Sector 79 Gurugram. Among families who decide to move, but want to save money, there is a growing acceptance of this type of real estate. M3M Property Sector 79 Gurugram comes with good surrounding infrastructure. Since such a product was not available in the original market, people often chose to live in a town on the outskirts of the city.
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However, after many property buyers burned their fingers with built-in projects, the introduction of this type of property in 2-3 BHK configurations has become the seasonal flavor and is bringing buyers back to the table as closings progress. Realtors have also received positive feedback from consumers about the planned development of M3M Hillside Gurugram the luxury project. 
 Even large, mid-ticket sites have been well received in the market as consumers have begun to choose these products without being able to stay in the same price categories in their chosen location.
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Gurgaon is not only adapting to consumer goods preferences, but they are also making major changes in implementing changes in the sales process of its project M3M 79. This is a spectacular address. It’s the most desired living address in Gurugram brought to you by M3M Properties that are designed to care for you.
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Residents will experience a select collection of super-luxury conveniences at the M3M Hillside including Gurugram's first temperature-controlled, spa, indoor pool, and wellness focus with sauna, steam, and back rub rooms, library, relax games room, kids' play region and business focus, just to give some examples. The building's staff will give its residents in-house catering, an attendant, a 24-hour doorman, and valet parking services. 
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formidxble · 3 years
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𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆
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𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: fixing ties is a part of your job, so why is your boss acting like it isn’t?
𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 “𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆” 𝒃𝒚 2𝑷𝑴 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄 𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒐
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𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: bang chan x fem!reader 
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 13k 
𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut, fluff, slight angst, and established relationship || ceo!bang chan x secretary!reader
𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: romantic sex, dirty talk, (some) possessiveness, marking, oral (female receiving), praising, “sir” kink (? 👀), (some) begging, unprotected sex (remember to always stay safe!!!), creampie
a/n: this is a gift to all you who submitted ceo bang chan asks and to everyone who followed me! thank you so much for 500 followers. i’m a bit late, but thank you! <3 thank you all so much!
little update (061921): three steps back has been posted!! this is a prequel to this fic, but you don’t have to read it in order to understand this one!! 
three steps backˏˋ°•*⁀➷masterlist 
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taglist: @meow-minho @bxngchxn @dreamwrld​ @my-blueprint-haven @bobateastay @hyunsluvv @etherealeeknow @solistired @popisdead @arohabangtan @imagineinnie @happy-at-home @anna1126 @lattechans @yjunrecords @http-hyxnjxn @minaamhh @violethhj @changlix-mp4 @instachans @qtieskz @itsapapisongo @jisungcherry @healinghyunjin @asweeetdisposition @poutypoutybin @vogueinnie @fizzydrink698 @minniehohos
huge shoutout to @/popisdead for giving me an idea to put in the smut! you know what it is when you read it, l! 😌❤️
please don’t interact with this post if you are under the age of 18!
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here we go again.
being the bang chan’s secretary meant that you had to accompany him to every event that required a plus one— public events, soirees, sales pitches, all the like. for the longest time, people have linked you to him and that wherever he went, you were expected to be there. it was almost like clockwork and here you were, beside him again, as he talked to mister seo changbin, the company’s vice chairman and chan’s right hand man. you relax your shoulders slightly.
don’t get it wrong, you loved being with chan and getting to see all the wonderful event venues around the country. people in chan’s level and caliber always threw the grandest of parties and though it was tiring just following your boss around, it was still better than staying at home and fixing chan’s schedule for the week. you also get to meet other high profile names in the industry and the company’s investors, most of which are also in the party tonight.
the party was thrown by the company to celebrate another successful sale made by none other than bang christopher chan. everyone who’s here is here to celebrate chan’s leadership and his success as the company’s youngest CEO. and, not to mention, as changbin lovingly put it just now, “his cockiness”. you giggle beside chan, smiling sheepishly when he gives you a playful glare.
when chang— mr. seo excuses himself to go grab another drink from one of the waiters roaming the hall, chan turns to you with a soft smile, his eyes content. “enjoying?” he asks as he gently swirls the wine glass in his hand.
“trying to,” you tease. you stand up straighter beside him, aware that people have eyes on you. it was one of the complaints you had about being next to chan. he was the center of attention everywhere and because you were beside him always, people tended to stare after they give chan a bow or even if they were gazing from afar. you always had to look presentable and though it came with the job, it gets tiring after a while. chan raises an eyebrow.
“what’s wrong?”
“nothing,” you smile. “just a little uncomfortable. that’s all.”
chan hums as he blinks. he surveys the hall before nodding. “if you want, you can go talk to some of the people here.”
chan barely allowed you to leave his side during public events. since you became a staple of his public appearances, seeing him alone always rose some eyebrows. so, why was tonight any different? you scrunch your eyebrows, swallowing as you tilt your head. the side of chan’s lip quirks up as his eyebrows mimic yours. it takes a second for chan to realize why.
“don’t worry about me,” chan laughs. “it’s a company event, so, i guess i can let you go for a bit.”
you look around the hall, frowning to yourself when you don’t spot any familiar faces. how were you supposed to interact with the businessmen in this party and wouldn’t it be weird if you just slid in the conversation? chan senses your hesitation, sucking his lips in as he gazes at the area.
“there’s, um,” chan moves in closer, tilting his glass toward the direction of a small group, “hwang hyunjin. do you remember him?”
of course, you do. chan sent you to the man’s office to confirm a sale a few months ago. you tripped in front of his desk and he only stared at you when you dusted yourself off. it wasn’t the most embarrassing moment in your life, but it was up there on the list. you huff softly.
chan hums once more as he glances at you. “you can talk to him or“—he tilts his glass to another group— “to the people in the office.” he takes a quick sip of his wine before grinning. “get the latest office gossip, like who’s dating who, you know? just all that fun stuff that i don’t get to know.”
office gossip? chan’s asking for juicy office gossip? you can’t blame him. out of all the people in the office, chan’s not the go-to person to talk about office drama. part of you feels bad, but then again, why would he care about one of the interns getting dumped if he’s too busy making sure the company doesn’t go under?
you fight the urge to giggle as you nod. chan catches the smile on your lips and he shakes his head, a soft ‘tsk’ leaving his lips.
“go on,” chan shoos playfully. “go socialize.” you give him a quick bow and before you could say anything else, mr. seo comes back, a full wine glass in his hand once more.
you step aside to look at the two groups chan pointed out. you could play it safe and go to the group you see around the office or you could shoot yourself in the foot and go to the group of millionaires.
you look behind as you feel chan’s eyes on you. once your eyes meet, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip of his wine. maybe you could impress him by going to the other group. the thought makes you turn away from him, feet moving in the direction of hwang hyunjin’s group.
you realize that this was a bad idea the moment the blonde-haired man spots you walking towards them. he raises his glass to greet you, head tilted to the side in curiosity and amusement. when you get nearer, the chatter in the group dies down and your mouth grows dry. their stare burns your skin and you can’t help but feel out of place.
“miss y/l/n,” hyunjin calls out, opening his arm out to invite you in the circle. “what brings you to our humble group?”
humble is not a word in this group’s vocabulary, that’s for sure. you smile at them as you inhale through your nose. this is a chance to mingle with the country’s richest and though you were nervous, it wouldn’t hurt to make a good impression, right? transactions in the future should be easier if you play your cards right. so, you part your lips and hum, “mr. bang wanted to get insider information and sent me over.”
the group laughs, almost rhythmically, like it’s been practiced before. nevertheless, the air grows lighter and beside you, hyunjin cracks a smile.
“that bastard. always one step ahead of us,” one of the men laughs. the other men join in and the conversation picks up where it left off— something about the trends in the market. not the most interesting of conversations, but you were already here.  hyunjin keeps his eyes on you and he leans over to your side.
“thank goodness you didn’t trip this time around.” your cheeks flush red and you laugh the statement off as you shake your head. “i thought i’d have to relive it all over again.”
“it must have been a nightmare, mr. hwang,” you play along softly. hyunjin hums.
“a nightmare for you, a comedy for me.”
if this was bang chan, you would have shamelessly smacked him. the thought makes you realize how easy-going everything is when it came to your work relationship with chan. after all, the two of you have been working together for almost a decade. during that time, you’ve gotten to know chan in ways his right-hand man hasn’t and he’s gotten to know you in ways previous employers haven’t. the line between work and friendship has been blurred for a long time now, but none of you have complained.
“i’m happy my pain provided entertainment, mr. hwang,” you tease. hyunjin chuckles before finishing his glass of wine. behind you, you feel a set of eyes travel down your back. you ignore the feeling.  
despite your lingering thoughts of chan, you couldn’t help but admire the man beside you. just like your boss, hwang hyunjin is one of the younger CEOs in the industry. he was younger than chan, but definitely carried himself in a manner that exuded superiority and grace, like he was on par with the men he’s standing with.
it seems to be the case because one of the businessmen in the group calls his attention, bringing him back to the conversation he was part of earlier. you frown when you see how loose his tie is around his neck.
someone’s secretary isn’t good with ties.
“not a good look,” you remember chan saying. like second nature, you reach over to grab hyunjin’s shoulder, gently turning him to face you. your hands find their way to the man’s tie, sliding the knot up to tighten it. when you look up, hyunjin’s eyes are on you and so are the eyes of the men around you.
the group grows silent and both of your breaths hitch. you’re frozen in your spot, blinking as you see hyunjin’s cheeks turn bright red. his eyes scan your face, panicked and confused. your hands on his tie start to shake and as you’re about to apologize, you feel a hand land on your lower back.
“i’m afraid i’d have to steal her for a bit, hyunjin,” you hear behind you. you bite your lower lip as you lean away from hyunjin, settling into the familiar hand. it takes a second for the blonde-haired man to recover, but he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck as he forces a smile.
“go ahead,” hyunjin chuckles shakily. “i’m not about to steal your secretary from you.”
“i’d like to see you try,” chan laughs and as if on cue, the others laugh with him. you give hyunjin an apologetic look when your eyes meet and he responds with a quick bow of his head like it was his fault. you put on your best fake laugh, your heart beating in your ears.
once the men stop laughing, the jokes thrown out earlier dissipate into thin air. and as much as you’d like to believe that these men were all friends, you were knowledgeable enough about the industry to say that this was all for show— the bows, the greetings, the jokes, the laughs, them coming to the party to “celebrate” chan’s success, all of it.
hyunjin’s the first to speak again, moving away from you and chan to close the circle and get away from the awkwardness that has formed between the three of you.
you feel chan remove his hand from your lower back and he uses it to grab your hand. “let’s dance.” chan whispers in your ear. you wet your lip as he leads you to the dance floor and the crowd parts to make way for the man of the hour and his plus one.
chan has always made you feel like you were the only woman in the room and he does it again tonight when he circles around you, his hand not letting go and his eyes never leaving yours. chan grins as he closes the gap between you and you hear your own breath stop. your eyes trail down to his lips when he wraps an arm around your waist.
your heartbeat rings in your ear once more when you and chan start swaying in time with the music. “i thought you didn’t want to dance tonight,” you whisper.
“it doesn’t hurt to have a little fun, you know.”
you rest your forehead on his shoulder as you scoff internally. bang chan, the man whose head is always filled with work, even during events like this, now wants to have fun and dance with his secretary?
you could laugh, but instead you let him lead you on the dance floor. you and he have never done this and you wonder if he feels as nervous as you are. but knowing him, he would never show it, at least not right now.
as the both of you settle in the feeling of each other’s warmth, he mumbles, “you feel it too?”
you shiver as you lean back from his shoulder. you wanted to ask what he meant. was he referring to the way your heart skips a beat when you catch him staring from his office window or when he throws you a soft smile when he walks by your desk? or was he talking about the way his hand lingers for way too long when you give him his coffee or the way his hand subtly reaches out for yours when it’s close to his?
you weren’t stupid. of course, you’ve felt it. everyone in the office has, except for bang chan himself.
maybe it’s not insanity after all. your colleagues aren’t talking out of their asses and there’s a chance, no matter how small it is, that bang chan felt it too. whatever it may be.
chan clicks his tongue when you don’t answer, his eyes scanning your face as you struggle to come up with a coherent thought. he breaks the eye contact before looking around the hall. “everyone’s watching.”
you feel a quick pang of pain in your chest. bang chan, the youngest CEO of his family’s company and the smartest out of all the men in here, is the most oblivious man you’ve ever come across. heat creeps up onto your cheeks and you mentally smack yourself in the head. you were crazy for even hoping that you were both on the same wavelength. it’s just not possible, no matter how much you romanticize the whole situation. you swallow as you nod, hanging your head gently as the both of you continue to sway.
“don’t be shy,” chan chuckles softly. “you’re doing great.”
“yeah, right,” you mumble, playing off the embarrassment and the pain bubbling in your chest. you see a flash of worry pass chan’s eyes, but he doesn’t say anything.
the dance floor slowly fills up with the other couples in the hall, taking the prying eyes off of the two of you. for now. you let out a shaky exhale as chan’s hand squeezes yours.
“you also did great with hyunjin’s tie.”
you raise your eyebrows in surprise, letting out a soft, but nervous giggle. “i have enough experience with yours, sir.” chan snorts before rolling his eyes playfully. he spins the both of you around, wading through the other couples as smoothly as he could manage.
“my ties are of better quality, miss y/l/n. you, of all people, would know.” chan chuckles before his eyes leave yours. he pulls you in closer to him, inhaling softly when you collide with him. what that was for, you don’t know, but you’re close enough to feel his breath on your skin. there must be something in the air.
or maybe he’s just drunk. who knows, really?
“right,” you tease after a few beats of silence, “your ties are imported and his are...?”
“probably imported too,” chan shrugs. “he has the money.”
you scrunch your nose, pulling back from his embrace. “you have to make up your mind. you either talk about him behind his back or you compliment him.” chan tilts his head as he shrugs again, eyes filled with amusement. “you can’t do both.”
“i can do both,” chan mumbles. “i just did it, yes?”
you feel a set of eyes on the both of you, but this time you couldn’t care less. chan, with his charm, wit, and annoying smile, has managed to calm your nerves yet again. it makes you wonder if there was ever a line between friendship and work with the two of you.
you’re taken back to reality as you and chan sway in a comfortable silence, letting the orchestra take you to a world only the two of you knew. you sigh as you turn your head and rest your cheek on his shoulder. you inhale the scent of his cologne, the one you’ve come to know and love after all these years.
“hey,” you hear chan say after a while. you raise your head to meet his eyes before raising an eyebrow. “don’t fix anyone else’s ties when we’re together, okay?”
“are you jealous?” you taunt as you try not to focus on the fact that bang chan’s lips are right there, plump, red, and lonely. chan scoffs, his arm around your waist tightening.
“should i be?”
you laugh, throwing your head back dramatically as chan twirls the both of you around. when he stops, your eyes meet again and he gives you another grin. “you sound like you are.” his grin disappears as quickly as it formed, turning into a small, playful snarl.
“do i? that’s interesting,” chan teases, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “i just,” he breathes, “don’t appreciate you going around the place fixing every man’s tie in here.”
you giggle, lightly smacking chan’s shoulder. “i fixed one, chan,” you snicker. “i fixed one tie. one!”
“that’s one too many ties, sweetheart.” the nickname travels throughout your body. it’s something he’s never called you before. you blush once more, turning your head away from him as you pretend to look at the other couples dancing. chan hums in front of you, unwrapping his arm around you to instead plant his hand on your waist.
“i was just doing my job,” you mutter. chan licks his bottom lip before he responds. your breath stops when you catch him taking in your facial features, but within a second, his eyes travel back to yours.
“i don’t think ‘fixing hwang hyunjin’s tie’ was part of the contract you signed years ago.”
“but fixing your tie is?” you retort.
chan grins at how fast you respond, shrugging playfully before twirling you around. the couples beside you gasp and giggle, your cheeks heating up at the sudden motion and attention. when you return to chan, he’s chuckling as he wraps his arm around your waist again, pulling you into his torso once more.
“you signed up for that the moment you were hired,” chan mutters, lips painfully close to yours. you swallow as your body starts to grow hot from the lack of space between the two of you.
for a moment, the people around you disappear and you could only focus on the way chan’s breath comes in contact with your skin. when he notices your eyes on his lips, he grins as he continues. “that means you’re only fixing my tie.”
you bite your lip when he leans in to whisper, his arm lowering to a place that you weren’t used to, “and the last time i checked, we’re still in a party thrown for me. in my company. in my house.”
your eyes widen when he pulls away, putting a small space in between the two of you. his arm loosens around you and you can’t help but long for its warmth again. your cheeks are flushed red when you part your lips to say, “chan, i—“
“don’t apologize,” chan interrupts, tilting his head as his arm comes back up to its previous position. it’s as if the words that left his mouth earlier were nothing important, like it wouldn’t keep you up at night. “just do better next time.”
you were used to hearing those words from chan, being his secretary. you had to admit that you  weren’t the best one for the job, almost always messing up the man’s schedule or just being plain absentminded while you’re sat on your office chair. you’ve lost track of how much you’ve put chan through, but it was always the same seven words he utters when he helps you clean up the mistakes. it’s a miracle you’re still his secretary, almost a decade after.
“as always,” you stutter softly, your breath betraying you when it hitches.
you see the couples on the dance floor dispersing and before you could move away from chan, he pulls you back into his chest to whisper, “let’s get out of here.” you raise an eyebrow.
“this early?” chan nods in response.
“in 10 minutes,” he turns the both of you to the direction of the back door, “i’ll be waiting for you over there.”
you blink at him as his words replay over and over in your mind. bang chan was the type to finish parties to the point that sometimes, you and he were the last people to leave the venue. but now, he wants to leave the party that was thrown specifically to celebrate him?  
“this is new,” you choke out. chan chuckles as he steps away from you, hand still not letting go of yours. he brings the back of your hand to his lips and gives it a soft peck. his lips linger on your skin and when his eyes come up to meet yours, he smirks.
“10 minutes.”
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when you look at the obnoxiously large clock on the stage at the end of the room, you realize that the minutes have flown by before you even started counting them.
meeting chan’s eyes from across the room, you knew that it was time to leave. he puts his wine glass on the table beside him, giving one of the businessmen a pat on the back as he excuses himself. when he disappears into the crowd, you clasp your hands together as you wonder what he had planned for the remainder of the night.
your eyes fall on chan when you arrive. he’s resting his back on the wall behind him and his shoulders are slumped, a stark contrast from the way he looked inside earlier. his hands are inside his pockets and the top two buttons of his black formal polo are now unbuttoned. he’s looking at the floor as he waits, his foot tapping to the rhythm of the song being performed in the other room. the echo of your heels in the empty room grabs chan’s attention and he raises his head to meet your eyes, a smile on his lips. 
“ready to go?” he asks.
“to where, exactly?” you hum, grabbing your phone from your dress pocket to give chan’s driver a quick text.
like the way your breath hitches, your movements halt when chan opens the back door for you. shouldn’t you be the one to open it for him and not the other way around? you motion forward with your hand and chan shakes his head.
“ladies first.”
“listen, i don’t know what you’re doing,” you start, “but i know you’re expecting something in return after this.” chan lets out an exhale through his nose as he smiles. “so, i think you should step out first.”
“maybe, i just want to do something for you this time,” chan shrugs. “have you ever thought of that?”
chan watches the way your cheeks heat up and before any of you could say anything else, you hear a honk outside. he’s the first to break the eye-contact, looking behind to wave at his driver. he turns his attention back to you with a cheeky grin on his lips.
“like i said, ladies first.”
you narrow your eyes toward him, but you step out nonetheless. behind you, you hear the door close and chan’s walking toward the car before you could blink. you follow after him, your heels clacking on the concrete. you overtake him as you near the car, your hand gripping the handle to open the door for him. his hand makes contact with yours, enveloping it as he does the same.
your eyes meet and it might have been because of the cold night air, but you see the color of bang chan’s cheeks turn into a light shade of red. you try to stop yourself from shivering when he grips your hand tighter to open the car door. your eyes don’t leave him as it opens and he motions for you to enter first.
you hesitate. wasn’t this your job?  
“y/n,” you hear him call, “i insist.”
you sigh, but don’t say anything else when you slip your hand out of his grip, ducking as you get inside the backseat. chan follows soon after, closing the car door and greeting his driver as he relaxes his back on the seat behind him.
chan’s driver turns to him as he asks, “where to, sir?”
he answers, “take us home, please.”
and with that, chan presses the button to slide the partition close.
the words that left his mouth almost give you whiplash. it was such a simple sentence, but somehow, your brain couldn’t comprehend it. you open your mouth as you turn to give chan a look. he reciprocates as he cocks his head to the side, chest glistening underneath the streetlights. 
“i apologize if that was a bit forward, but is it okay if i bring you to my place?” your boss hums, putting his arm on the curve of the backseat. “i figured we could work there instead of the office.”
you let his words settle into you the same way you lean back on the seat. your mind travels back to the calendar you prepared and submitted to him last sunday—a couple of meetings on monday and tuesday, a press conference on wednesday, and a celebratory party on thursday. and since everyone’s too hungover to function the next day, friday’s scheduled to be a lighter one, as requested by chan himself. you furrow your eyebrows, looking up at the ceiling to wonder, did you somehow forget the details you put on the schedule?
and not just details, but work? didn’t you and chan rush two days worth of tasks the previous nights so that the both of you can, as you quote him, “enjoy the party”? but, here you were, on the way to his house to work. again.
chan catches the look in your eyes. “it’s nothing heavy. i just need your help.”
“and why wasn’t this plotted in your official schedule?” you question, letting your eyes drift to his, an eyebrow raised.
chan’s eyes widen and he brings his forearm up to scratch the side of his head. “it’s...it’s really not that important to warrant a spot in my calendar.”
“but, important enough for you to ask for my help?”
the color on chan’s cheeks disappear and his smile drops the way his arm does to his side.  he scoffs softly. “if it’s work related, of course.” he shakes his head. “you’re my secretary. a part of your job is to heed every call.”
“is this what i have to do since you opened the door for me earlier?”
“‘this’ being?”
“staying up all night with you again. working.”
chan rests his elbow on the window beside him. “that’s never been a problem for you, y/n,” he pauses. “why is it a problem now?”
you weren’t one to complain, but was it such a bad thing to long for a break? sure, the party takes place inside the company’s hall, but you didn’t have to be hunched over a desk, reading through paperwork to summarize and report or make him coffee to keep him awake. you weren’t required to do things for him—to work— because the both of you were there to have fun, mingle, and socialize with all of the other hot shots in the industry.
you were hoping, even just for one night, that you’d escape work responsibilities, that chan would have something fun planned for tonight.
but, maybe you expected for too much from bang christopher chan.
his dry laugh interrupts your thoughts. “unless you’d rather be with hwang hyunjin on that dance floor?”
“hwang hyun— are you kidding me?” you exclaim, eyes wide, as you turn to him. “you’re picking a fight because of hwang hyunjin? i can’t believe this.”
you huff as you cross your arms in front of your chest, looking away from chan to gaze out the window. the previous topic of the calendar is thrown out and it joins the blur of the buildings moving past the car. never in your life have you despised a three-letter word until now, when memories of tonight are slowly overpowered by the word tie. 
you hear chan take a deep breath and you couldn’t help but wonder if the man is actually jealous. if so, you’d prefer he tell you, rather than going back and forth. but then again, you were perfectly fine sitting like this with him—silent and unmoving. it stays like this for a few good minutes, until, in the corner of your eye, you see chan’s knee start bouncing. if it weren’t for that, you wouldn’t—
“i don’t see the big deal,” you sigh exasperatedly. “it’s just a damn tie.” before your hands even fall to your lap, chan’s eyes are on you like they never left.
he turns his body to you, motioning with his hands as he frowns. “it’s not just a tie to me. do you know how close th—“
“so, you are jealous?” you ask, putting a hand on your forehead as your skin heats up. “you’re jealous because i fixed another man’s tie?”
he furrows his eyebrows, shaking his head, as he grips the curve of the backseat. “i—“
“chan, you’re not even wearing a tie tonight! what am i supposed to fix—oh my god!“
the air in the car grows heavy as you try and catch your breath. chan slowly lowers his head to gaze upon his exposed chest. the tips of his ears turn red and it quickly travels down to his cheeks and neck. he swallows as he rubs his nape, a sheepish grin replacing the frown he had on earlier.
it was moments like this that make you wonder if chan’s really the smartest man you know.
“i guess you’re right,” chan whispers. “i’m sorry.”
“you should be,” you say in disbelief. “god, chan, it’s not like i wanted to do it!” he raises his eyebrows, letting out a soft hum, as he nods at your words. you crinkle your nose as you continue. “it was an honest mistake that i”— you point to yourself—“wholeheartedly regret doing and before yo—“
“i just don’t like other men looking at you the same way i do,” chan cuts you off, volume higher than usual. “okay? that’s it.” your boss slices the air to, quite literally, cut the tension. “end of argument.”
absolutely not. not after what he just said.
chan shrugs as he turns away from you to rest his elbow on the window once more. your heart pounds in your chest as his words float around in your mind, attacking every single thought that had made its presence known. your mind becomes an empty void and when you come to your senses—one of them—your skin forms goosebumps.
and it’s not because of the ac in the car.
“help me understand what’s happening right now, chan.”
“y/n,” chan groans softly. “if only you saw the way hyunjin looked at you. his eye—“
“i tripped in front of him!”
“and that’s the charm of it all,” chan states as he turns to look at you. your eyes meet and your heart skips a beat. you blink at him and he sighs.
“you’re different from all of the other women in there. you’re a breath of fresh air.”
your shoulders relax, but your hands begin to sweat. your anger and frustration have now been replaced by confusion and the butterflies in your stomach, which have been reserved for the man in front of you, start flapping their wings as your cheeks heat up. you’re about to ask what he meant, but chan parts his lips and it shuts you up quickly.
“it’s hard to let our guards down. the industry’s full of competition, full of rivalry, so you have to have thick skin,” chan pauses to shrug. “the businessmen in that party don’t care about my success, nor do the media. they only care about what’s next for us, what’s next for the company, all that good stuff.” chan sighs, “you know what i mean.”
“because of that,” he clicks his tongue, “i can’t have friends, nor can i have relationships because i’m never sure why they’re with me.” chan laughs bitterly and you feel a bit of resentment seeping out as he continues. “is it about the money? the fame? corporate espionage? fuck if i know,” chan looks back out of the window. on his thigh, you see his fist clench.
it was at this moment that you knew that this was not bang christopher chan, but this was only chan beside you, the complex, but relaxed and soft-spoken man you were privileged enough to know and spend time with during late nights in the office. a side of him no one else saw, but for some reason, he was willing to share as you sat beside him on his office couch.
the silence that comes after is louder than anything you’ve heard at the party earlier. you decide to take the leap, reach out, and hold his hand.
“y/n,” he breathes out, stopping your hand. “you’re different, okay? you’re different because you’ve never made me feel that way.” chan runs a hand through his hair. “the men and women in the office tiptoe around me, like there’s eggshells or something,” chan hangs his head down as he taps his fingertips on his thigh. “but you, you barely ever do.”
your breath catches in your throat and you whimper, “chan—“
“i’m not finished,” chan jokes shakily, turning his body to you this time. “you’re not afraid to make mistakes when you’re around me, laugh at my jokes, or sometimes, you just sit there and listen to me ramble.” chan smiles to himself. “you tell me what’s on your mind, your opinions, your views and most of the time, that’s the highlight of my day, not”— he motions with his hands—“the sale i’ll be making in the afternoon or the press conference we’ve got planned.”
us, we. always the duo, you and chan were. but why does tonight feel different and why is the sparkle in his eyes more prominent than before? “hell,” chan rolls his eyes playfully, “you even answer back to me. not a lot of people get that privilege.” even if your eyebrows are furrowed, your lips part to let out a soft giggle.
“and it does infuriate me,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “but i’ll let you do it.” chan lets his eyes meet yours and you freeze.
“over and over again.”
you feel as if a strong wind blows in the car, knocking you back into the seat. you grip the side of your dress to keep your hand from shaking. chan’s stare burns your skin and you try your best not to melt into the car itself. he inhales, “whenever you talk back, it makes me feel human. it reminds me that”—he puts a hand over his chest—“i’m not perfect, that i make mistakes, and that i should let my pride down sometimes.”
“sometimes?” you interrupt. chan’s ears perk up when he hears you and he lets his shoulders relax, his eyes growing soft and a grin forming on his lips. 
“yes, sometimes,” chan snickers. “but, i guess what i’m trying to say is,” he sighs, “you make me feel human, not a business drone or ‘the most successful CEO of the year’.”
before you could respond or even make sense of the point, chan quickly adds, “and you probably made hyunjin feel the same way when you tripped. i remember you told me that he bursted out laughing as soon as you left his office.”
“yeah,” you deadpan. “thanks for that memory.” beside you, chan chuckles and the car slows down when the light turns red.
“anytime.”
and with a small smile on his lips, your boss at the other end of the seat looks back out of the window. in the corner of your eye, you see chan’s hand on the middle of the seat. you’re almost tempted to take it into yours as your mind travels to the words he uttered only moments ago.
there’s a reason why he’s awarded as the country’s most successful CEO. chan, as lovingly labelled by the media, is the industry’s Wolf, a title that was given to him during his second year in the position. and though many have come close, like the blonde-haired man in the party earlier, chan has never been overthrown by any other. sharp and smart, bang chan has done more than his father ever could, bringing the company to the international stock market and to other heights that only the other CEOs could dream of.
but, all these achievements came at a price. it’s lonely at the top, as they’ve said, and with bang chan, you saw that very statement come to life. chan, because of his reputation and riches, has closed himself up to make sure his mind and his company stays ahead and clear. that, of course, meant that he had to solve his personal problems on his own.
because who would the man on top run to when there’s no one else with him?
however, with his words, you realize that, maybe, you were that person for him. the person he can laugh and joke around with. the person he can talk to freely, ramble to, and spend time with. the person that allows him to be himself, no judgements, no pressure.
though, you’ve always felt some sort of tension between the two of you, it was enough to know that chan saw you more than just his secretary. you’d rather have him that way, than nothing at all. you turn to him.
you’re about to thank him, but chan’s voice rings out in the car as the light outside turns green. “and apart from all of that, you’re gorgeous too.”
“excuse me?” you choke out, eyes widening. chan turns to you, an eyebrow raised as he exhales through his nose. a soft ‘what?’ leaves his lips. “did i have too much to drink tonight?” chan merely chuckles at the question.
“you didn’t have any,” he responds. you shake your head as you shift uncomfortably in your seat.
it couldn’t be possible. was this a dream? first, chan became slightly possessive and now he’s calling you gorgeous like it won’t affect you, like you’ll believe him. the world must be punishing you right now, but if you close your eyes, maybe you’ll wake up in your apartment like it’s groundhog day. as you try and shut the world off, chan calls out your name and it brings you back to the car.
“do you want me to repea—“
“no!” you exclaim, leaning over to grab chan’s forearm.
chan glances at your hand, then at your lips. it’s through this subtle action that you realize how close the two of you are. he blinks at you while his cheeks become coated with a nice shade of red, but he doesn’t pull his arm away. “well, you heard me,” he utters. “i apologize if i don’t say it enough or don’t say it at all.”
you’re about to lose your mind.
“but, um,” chan uses his free hand to scratch the back of his neck, “you really are beautiful. hwang hyunjin knows it, changbin knows it, the staff in the office know it, and i know it.” chan pauses as his eyes scan your face for any reaction, to which you respond only with your mouth slightly opening.  
he huffs as he furrows his eyebrows, “i know it because i get to be with you everyday and i’d be stupid to deny it to myself any further.”
“and yes, it does bother me when men stare at you,” chan continues. your chest tightens and you couldn’t breathe, but it’s somehow the good kind, the kind that you don’t want to end, the kind that you could get used to.
“they see how much of a great woman you are, in the office and out of it. i’m glad they do, but at the same time,” chan pauses to remove his forearm from your grip. he wraps both of his hands around your wrists.
“you and i have been together for so long that i can’t see myself working with anybody new.” you blink. “what if they take you away? what if they offer you a higher salary or promise you more opportunities? or what if the—“
“chan,” you whisper, “just tell me what you want to say.” the man in front of you lets out a shaky breath and when he opens his mouth once more, a mess of incoherent words come out.
“just give it to me straight.” you plead. both of your eyes lock as his breath intertwines with yours.
you’ve only really lit one firework in your whole life.
how it goes is you strike a match to ignite a spark and while it travels down the incredibly long wick, it gives you ample time to run away and cower. the experience of running and waiting was thrilling, but what came after was underwhelming—the spark did not carry over to its destination.
but as chan presses his lips on yours, his hands tightening around your wrists to pull you in closer, you’re finally able to see the spark reach its destination after the 8 years of long, agonizing wait. the firework fires up into the sky, the black canvas being painted by a million different colors all at once. chan removes his hands around your wrists to cup your face.
now, you can say that you’ve lit two fireworks in your life.
compared to the absolute chaos happening inside of your body, the kiss is slow and gentle with chan’s lips, soft and plump, perfectly fitting into yours like a puzzle piece you never knew was missing. you tangle your hands into his hair to push him into you deeper and chan lets you, tilting his head to the side.
chan’s hand is the match that ignites another spark in your chest as it travels down to the side of your neck. your heart pounds louder when his hand settles on your skin, the heat from his fingertips combining with the heat that has formed on your neck.
you find yourself leaning back to the corner of your seat and before you could process it, chan’s on top of you. your skin forms goosebumps when his hand moves down to your waist. when you arch your back and push your torso onto his, you rip a soft groan from the back of his throat.
chan pushes himself off of you, his pupils dilated and his breath not being remotely enough for him.
“what was that for?” you whisper, your chest heaving. outside, you see his mansion come into view.
“you said to give it to you straight.”
but, fuck, you wanted more. you wanted curves, zigzags, waves, all of it. as long as chan’s lips are on yours again, you wanted it all.
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truth be told, you’ve never set foot in chan’s house. you’ve only seen the mansion through the car window, but you knew, one way or the other, you’ll be able to see what lies inside. of course, you were his secretary. heed every call, right?
you just didn’t envision that it’d be in this way.
“chan—“
you don’t finish your sentence as you’re gently pushed back onto the front door once it closes. chan’s on you like the way he was in the car, but this time, he’s closer, the distance almost non-existent as he puts his hands on your waist. goosebumps arise from your skin as his lips find their way to your neck. you’ve always thought you were stronger than this, but you’re already gasping for air when he starts peppering kisses down your skin.
“chan,” you breathe. he comes up from the side of your neck with his eyebrow raised and a small grin on his lips. “i thought we had work to do.”
chan hums nonchalantly in response and he merely dives back in your neck, closing the space between the two of you like you weren’t close enough. you find yourself tilting your head to give him more access and chan, being the smart man he is, notices this immediately. he grunts softly and you shiver, his lips latching onto the sides he hasn’t taken in.
you bite your lip, but as much as you were enjoying the attention, especially after 8 years of longing, you and chan had to work. knowing him, he’d value work over this in a heartbeat. you try and push him off of you, but he only tightens his grip.
“chan,” you whine, “this can wai—“
“no,” he mutters as he pulls you into his torso, “it can’t.” he hovers his lips on yours, his hot breath hitting your skin. “i don’t want to wait anymore.” you gasp when he squeezes your waist.
“i can’t. not anymore.”
though chan’s tone is stern, there’s longing in his voice like he’s a man who’s been denied of life’s pleasures for years and frankly, you feel the same way. he didn’t have to say anything else before you’re clashing your lips into his, your hands travelling to his hair and tugging on it. chan presses his body onto yours and you’re pushed back on the door again. you whimper.
chan’s clothed torso is hot against yours and its heat travels down in between your thighs. your wetness pools in your panties and before you knew it, he’s unwrapping his arm from your waist to lift you up. your legs wrap around his torso in an instant, like the both of you have done this before. he grins into the kiss, his hands finding their way to the curve of your ass as he starts walking to his bedroom.
even with his eyes closed and his neck craned up to keep his lips on yours, chan wades smoothly through his furniture and the both of you make it up the stairs with no problem. you should have been more concerned, but knowing bang chan, he’s got you. always have and always will, that much you know. he does, however, accidentally slam you onto his bedroom door. you wince.
“sorry,” chan mumbles. “won’t happen again.”
“excited?” you tease softly. chan chuckles against your lips as he reaches out to grab the door handle.
“very.” you feel a gush of wind hit your back as the door opens. his lips are on yours again as the both of you make your way in.
he lies you down on the bed, your hair splaying all over your shoulders and on the sheets behind you. when chan pulls away, he latches himself onto the skin behind your ear and you sigh as you put your hand on the back of his head. you arch your back into him when you feel his member hardening from below you and all he could do is chuckle, though a bit shaky.
chan runs a hand down to your waist as you spread your legs open to accommodate him. “you’re already so beautiful,” he breathes on your skin, “and you aren’t even naked yet.”
your breath catches in your throat, whimpering in response. it was overwhelming enough to learn that chan finds you beautiful, but to think that he’s thought of you unclothed? you could die happy now, as cheesy as that sounds. he comes up from your neck to press a soft kiss on your jaw. his free hand trails up the side of your body, fingers playing with the zipper located on the side of the dress.
“may i?”
the question rings out in the room and it echoes in the confines of your mind. such a simple, harmless question, but you feel blood rush to every part of your body. your legs close around his torso, your clit starting to throb at the prospect of being undressed by the man you’ve been hopelessly in love with. you nod and chan whispers a soft ‘thank you’ as he starts unzipping your dress.
as you feel your dress start unravelling with his touch, you inhale, taking in chan’s scent. it’s a combination of mint and lemon and it’s something you’ve gotten used to after years of working with him. it’s never been anything but cologne to you, but tonight it’s ambrosial and intoxicating. you let yourself drown in it, closing your eyes as chan’s lips continue to do their wonders on your neck.
the cold air hits your skin once chan fully unzips your dress and it brings you back to his bed, in his presence, in his hold. you whimper softly in his ear. he squeezes your waist, grunting as he presses a soft kiss on your shoulder.
“i can’t believe we waited this long,” chan whispers. you giggle before slowly slipping your arms out of your now loose dress straps. you don’t break the eye contact as you tug your dress down to your chest. the dip in between your tits catches chan’s attention and he breaks the stare to shamelessly trail his eyes down.
chan licks his bottom lip before he looks back up at you.
“we don’t have to wait anymore,” you reassure, reaching a hand up to swipe your thumb over his lip, glistening and swollen.
at your words, chan’s eyes dilate and darken. the color of his cheeks turn into a shade of red and as you’re about to tease, chan tugs your dress down your chest, exposing your breasts in all of its entirety. heat travels all over your body and your nipples harden under his touch. chan dips down to your chest like the bead of sweat trickling down your back and you can only moan when his lips start sucking the skin in between your breasts.
you whimper when he cups one of your tits, kneading it softly as he continues to suck on the skin. your hand finds its way to chan’s shoulder and you grip it as he pulls away with a soft pop. chan gazes up at you before smirking, your words failing you once again when he attaches his lips beside your nipple, nipping on the skin to leave another mark.
you moan his name as your hand latches onto the back of his head, pulling him into your skin even more. his teeth graze you and you arch your back into him, only to be pushed down by his hand on your waist. he doesn’t say anything once he pulls away, only going back in to leave more marks on your chest.
as if the marks weren’t proof of who you belonged to, chan utters, “mine.” you squeeze his shoulder tighter. “all mine.”
maybe, this is why chan’s called “the Wolf”.
your mouth falls open, his name falling off of it as his lips wrap around your nipple. the hand on your waist moves back up to cup your other breast. one of chan’s fingers plays with your other nipple and your hips lifts up to meet him, your heat making contact with his member. chan groans onto your skin, the vibrations travelling back down to where you ached for him.
“you say my name so prettily, babe.” the nickname shoots you straight in the chest and your heart aches. never in a million years did you think that chan would be on you the way he was now. the thought makes you whine softly. you feel chan’s hand move away from your breast. it follows the curve of your body and it slips in between your thighs, making you spread your legs even further apart. chan chuckles breathlessly.
you shiver when he presses his fingers in the front of your panties and you bite your lip when he starts rubbing, his tongue on your nipple following the motion of his fingers below you. as most new lovers, however, chan’s missing where you needed him most and you move your hips to help him find it. chan’s off of your nipple the moment you call out above him, chest slightly heaving as he looks up at you.
“can you move—“ you pant, “to the left?”
it takes a second for him to realize, the movement of his fingers slowing to a halt as he tilts his head. he blushes softly when he does and he chuckles. “i... just—“ he complies with your needs, but he’s still not—
“oh fuck. yeah,” you cry out when he finally finds your nub. “right there, chan. right there.”
“yeah baby,” he grunts, a smirk taking over his lips after. “i feel you.”
it’s amazing how chan’s making you see stars when he’s only rubbing you through your panties. chan notices this too, pecking one of the marks he left on your chest as he hums, moving down in between your legs. he inhales softly, fingers still making circles on your clit.
“god,” he groans. “you smell so sweet.” your wetness gushes out of you and you grip the sheets beside you, biting your lip as you feel his hot breath caress your folds. chan raises his eyes and he licks his lip when your eyes lock.
“i want to taste you.”
so simple, so straightforward, yet so obscene coming from the mouth of an executive. chan grins when you breathe a ‘yes’, your back arching when he hooks a finger on the waist band of your panties, teasingly taking his time as he pulls it down your thighs. you buck your hips up and chan snickers, “okay, okay. i got it.”
he puts your panties aside before he comes back up to your torso. his clothed member is dangerously close to yours and you’re almost tempted to grind yourself onto him. “let’s get this off,” chan mumbles as he tugs on your dress. “now.”
it may be the secretary in you or it may just be the lust that’s driving you at this point, but you’re scrambling to help chan get rid of the dress that’s clinging to your body. you shiver when it’s removed fully, the dress hitting the floor with a soft thud. chan looks down at you and he lets out a long breath like he’s been holding one in. you blush and instinctively, your hands try to cover your body. he frowns as he leans back down to grab a hold of your hands.
“no,” he mumbles before pressing a kiss on your lips. “your body’s beautiful. you’re beautiful. don’t hide from me.”
chan lets go of your hands and you let them fall down to your sides. “do you know how long i’ve wanted to see you like this?” he mutters as he kisses down your torso. goosebumps form on your skin. “especially when you wear those skirts.”
your heart pounds in your chest when he settles in between your thighs, kissing them before he dips down to press a kiss on your clit. your hand goes to his hair, your core clenching at the feeling of being empty.
“sir—“
“oh, that’s so cliché,” chan interjects, a playful smile on his lips as he raises his head.  the atmosphere in the room changes and you find yourself opening your eyes as you prop yourself up with your elbows. you raise an eyebrow as heat travels to your cheeks.
“i—“
“if i got off to that nickname, i would have had a hard-on every time you called me sir.”
you roll your eyes with a huff as you lie back down on the bed. “just get on with it.”
“wow,” he laughs softly, “my secretary’s ordering me around now?”
truthfully, you loved banter with chan, but not tonight. not when he’s there, in between your thighs, purposefully ignoring the sex that’s staring him straight in the eyes. always the tease, bang chan was. you’re just not having it tonight.
“i’m not your secretary right now.”
you hear chan inhale sharply and within a second, he’s on your core like a fiend craving a shot of his drug. your hand’s on his hair again, tugging on it as you moan incoherently. he licks a stripe from your hole to your clit, the lewd sounds of his tongue lapping your wetness ringing out in the room after. your hip bucks up when he starts sucking on your clit and he puts your leg over his shoulder in the process to give him more access to your folds.
“you’re so delicious,” chan groans. “better than anything i’ve ever tasted.” you moan out brokenly, pulling him back into your clit like your life depended on it. he chuckles against it and the vibrations allow an explosion of a million fireworks inside of you. your mouth falls open the way your legs do, your moans filling the room with the sound of chan’s full lips on your pussy.
chan smirks below you, obviously pleased by the way your body is reacting to him. it’s embarrassing, but that’s what he gets for taking his precious time with you. you know he won’t let this go any time soon, but you couldn’t care less. he pecks your clit before pulling away. your clit throbs at the loss of the friction, but chan makes up for it when he plunges two of his fingers inside of you.
the intrusion is sudden, but welcome, as your back flies off of the bed with a loud cry, sitting up as you grip his shoulder. chan mewls softly as he plants a hand outside of your thigh to support himself as he leans up to crash his lips into yours. you taste your juices on him when he swipes his tongue on your bottom lip and your wetness seeps out, dripping onto the sheets below you. his fingers continue their assault on your pussy, alternatively thrusting and rubbing your walls.
chan pulls away from the kiss and a string of your combined spit attaches itself on his bottom lip. he breaks the string by licking his bottom lip and you find it unfair how chan’s lips just continue to look immaculate despite how swollen and red it is. he simpers as he rests his forehead on yours, sweat starting to form on its sides.
“do you hear yourself, baby?” he purrs. “do you hear how wet you are for me?” for him, for him, for him. all for chan, all for the man you’ve loved for years now. your hand wraps around his nape, pulling chan into your shoulder as he continues to thrust into your heat. he groans as he bites down on the skin, the sound of your slick overpowering anything else in the bedroom. you feel the familiar coil starting to form in your lower regions.
your cunt clenches around his fingers when he curls them and your hips start to gyrate. “y/n,” chan moans, “you’re getting so tight.” you whimper his name as your wetness coats his fingers even more, the sound and the smell of your sex getting more and more prominent as the coil in your stomach threatens to unravel for chan.
“cum for me, baby,” he growls. “cum.”
chan wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into him as ecstasy takes over the entirety of your body. you shake and tremble in his hold as he whispers sweet nothings and praises in your ear. his fingers slow to help you ride out your orgasm and he hums as your legs continue to shiver at his sides. he thrusts his fingers in once, twice, before he pulls them out, pulling away from the embrace to lick his fingers clean. he groans in delight.
you’re panting as you push chan onto the bed, getting on top of him before pressing your swollen lips onto his. naturally, his hands fall onto your hips as your lips move in sync. you run your hand down his clothed chest, the satin feeling supple against your fingertips. your desire, fuelled by the adrenaline surging through your veins, makes you whimper as you pop open the remaining buttons of chan’s polo.
every pop is significant to the way the both of you are letting yourselves go, baring your bodies and souls to each other after years of not being able to, after years of merely hoping. your heart pounds as you rip open chan’s polo, sighing as his torso shines underneath the light streaming inside the bedroom. chan pulls you back into his lips with a gentle hand on the back of your neck.
chan’s lips are soft on yours and you let yourself get carried away as you cup his face. chan hums as he sits up to remove his polo, lips not moving away from yours. he throbs in between your thighs and you gasp. chan takes this opportunity to slip his tongue to connect with yours and the both of you create a new language in the process.
“you’re so beautiful, y/n,” he whines as the both of you pull away. “you’ve always been so beautiful.”
you blush, your hand caressing his cheek gently as you utter a soft ‘thank you’. you share one more quick kiss before your hand moves down his torso to start unbuckling his pants. “let me return the favor.”
“no,” chan answers, reaching down to hold your wrist. “you don’t need to.”
“baby—“
he tightens his hold on your wrist as he pleads softly, “please. you always take care of me, y/n.” he leans up to mutter on your lips, “let me do that for you tonight.”
you weren’t strong enough to refuse the offer and you let chan raise you up from his lap, only to be lied down on the bed once more. you relax into the mattress as chan positions himself in between your legs. as he unbuckles his belt, your mind travels to the moment in the car and you can’t help but wonder—
“you meant what you said earlier, right?”
chan’s eyes are on you immediately as he hears your voice, his hands stopping. “of course, i did.”
“you didn’t just say that to get in my pants?”
chan bites his lip to suppress a laugh and he shakes his head as his hands resume their task earlier. “no,” he giggles. “if that was my plan the whole time, i would have just said ‘hey, i’m bang chan’ and your pants would have slid right off.”
you throw your head back onto the pillows as you laugh softly. “that didn’t happen when you interviewed me.”
“yeah, well,” chan mumbles, sliding out of his pants, “it’s happening now.”
“8 years after, but okay.”
“it’s still happening, so my point still stands,” chan shrugs, chuckling when he sees you cross your arms in front of your chest. “i’m sorry,” he laughs as he leans down to kiss you. “i’m kidding.”
“you’re so full of yourself, babe,” you tease.
your smile disappears when chan’s cock springs out of his boxers, thick and hard, with the tip red and glistening as pre-cum leaks out of it. the base is adorned with his veins, prominent enough to show up in the darkness. his cock twitches and your mouth opens, salivating at the sight of him. 
when you look back up, you let your eyes take in chan and you marvel at him, basking in the presence of a man whose body looks like it has been sculpted by the Gods up above. shoulders broad, muscles defined, your core throbs and tightens at the promise of getting to have him tonight.
it was here that you understood that you didn’t need to be swept off of your feet or be brought to anywhere else fancy when bang chan, in all of his glory, is no place you’ve ever been to. you’re more than willing to get to know him tonight and let him take you where he pleased.
“you’re about to be full of me in a second,” he jokes, smirking. his cheeks turn pink and you try your best to ignore the fondness brewing in your stomach. despite putting on his confident facade, you know chan is as nervous as you are. “lie back.”
you rest your back on the sheets below you, your legs opening to welcome chan in between them for the second time tonight. the feeling of his hands on the side of your body awakens something feral in you and before you can process the reaction, you buck your hips up onto him, your wet core brushing his hard cock. he groans as he pulls away, spitting on his palm before smearing it all over his member. you lick your lip before reaching up to hold his nape once more.
“ready?” he asks as he pumps himself, lining himself up in front of your core.
you feel as if you’re walking a tightrope when he asks you the question. one misstep and you’re falling into everything that encapsulated him, into everything that was bang chan. were you ready to let go and let him overwhelm you? after 8 long years, you finally let your foot slip and the next thing you know, you’re looking back up at chan, hand squeezing his shoulder as you say,
“ready as i’ll ever be, baby.”
it’s as if the gates of heaven opened when chan pushes himself in you, the both of your moans creating a melodic symphony that echoes in the bedroom. his girth parts your walls and the feeling burns ever so slightly. you whimper as you bite your lip, throwing your head back onto the pillows. a comforting hand rests on your waist as he stops at his thickest.
“you’re so big,” you choke out. he hums as he leans down to bury his face in your neck to smile against it. chan presses a soft kiss on your skin as he bottoms out, groaning softly when your cunt clenches around him. you put a hand on his back, pressing his skin as he pulls out fully. he pushes back in roughly, the sound of his balls hitting your skin echoing in the whole room. you claw at his back as you arch yours, gasping, and he grunts softly.
chan starts thrusting, his skin grinding against your swollen nub. “your pussy’s so tight, babe,” he moans. you sigh in response as your legs wrap around his torso, pushing him in you even deeper. you needed him, you wanted him, and you’re here to make sure you get to experience bang chan in ways you’ve never experienced him. it doesn’t matter how many he’s had before you. what matters is that he’s in you now, thrusting his cock and taking you to heaven.
“you’re so good,” you praise, voice cracking as a whine comes out. “you’re so good to me.”
“yeah?” chan breathes, a smug smile forming on his lips. his chest heaves as he continues to ram into you. his skin is hot against yours and you drown in the feeling and in his scent. “you’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?” you whine in response. “such a dirty mind for a refined secretary. ”
chan bites down on your shoulder before slowing his thrusts, raising his head from your neck. “turn around.”
it doesn’t register quickly, but once it does, you’re off of his cock to get on fours, planting your hands on the soft mattress and arching your back to expose yourself to chan. he groans behind you, hovering over you as he puts a hand on the headboard in front of you.
“tell me what you want,” chan whispers, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder.
“baby, please,” you cry. “you know.”
chan snickers, pushing only the tip of his cock in. “i need to hear you say it.”
“chan—“
“tell me, baby. tell me what you want.”
“your cock, chan. please, i want it. i need it. i want to feel you inside me, please. pl—“
chan squeezes your hips before pounding his cock inside of you. you cry out his name, throwing your head back as your eyes close. you get lost in chan’s grunts, letting them wrap themselves around your body the way chan’s arm snakes around your waist. he pulls your body back into him, your back flushing against his chest. the sounds of your slick coating chan’s cock as he continues to ram into you rings in your ears and you feel your clit ache below you.
“god, baby,” chan grunts. “it’s like my cock’s made for you.”
you whine at his words, your hand making its way down to rub circles on your clit. chan growls softly, removing his hand from the headboard to hold your wrist.
“let me,” he mutters. “let me take you there.”
you weren’t about to say no.
the promise of an orgasm looms on you as chan draws rough circles on your clit. his thrusts start to syncopate from his rhythm and he pushes you back down on the bed gently. you bury your face on his soft sheets and you turn your head to the side as you moan and whine an incoherent mess of praises and curses. you grip the sheets as you spread your legs apart and your thighs start to shake as chan presses his fingers down on your clit.
“baby,” you rasp, tears forming in the corner of your eyes, “i can’t—“ 
chan grunts, “you want to cum for me again?”
“yes, please, please, pl—“
“gush on my cock, baby. let me feel you.”
it’s pure ecstasy when you do, letting yourself go in the pleasure of everything that was bang chan—his moans, grunts, breathing, cock, everything. you cry out into his sheets and grip them until your knuckles turn white. your legs try to close as your whole body shakes and just like the first time, chan takes you to a place you’ve never been, your vision turning blurry as he continues to pound you. your toes curl as you moan his name,  like it’s the only word in your vocabulary. behind you, chan whines softly.
“where do you want me to cum?”
you don’t respond immediately, body shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm. “inside,” you pant. “give it to me.”
chan cries, “jesus, fuck.” he loses his rhythm completely as he leans over you, his sweat falling on your back. “shit, y/n, baby, i— ”
he thrusts a few more times before he grabs your hips, pulling you into him with a groan as he spills his cum, hot and sticky, inside of you. your pussy clamps down on his cock as he grinds inside you to ride his high out, his hand finding its way to the dip of your back. he pulls out after a short while and you whine at the emptiness that comes with it. you do, however, feel both of your juices seep out of you, dripping down on his bed sheets.
“what a sight,” chan mutters behind you as you let your body fall on the bed. you giggle softly as you close your legs, the high wearing down as your body starts to feel heavy. you have a feeling you’d be sore tomorrow, but the both of you weren’t expecting many to come into work, anyway. so, you’ll end up getting away with it. for now. the bed dips beside you and chan pulls you into him, your back against his chest.
for a moment, you listen to his breathing and focus on the way his fingers lied on your stomach. your eyes start to grow heavy, but you hear chan whisper, “are you okay?”
“i am,” you respond softly, turning around to face him. once your eyes meet, chan smiles as he tucks a hair strand on the back of your ear. his hair is disheveled and wet with sweat, but still, chan looked as well put together as he always does. you lean up to kiss him, your lips moving slowly on each other. when you pull away, chan’s eyes are twinkling and he lets out a soft hum of satisfaction.
“so,” you mumble, playfully tapping his bottom lip, “are we still going to work tonight?”
chan groans, throwing his head back with a chuckle. “it can wait.”
“no. it can’t,” you tease, pressing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. chan’s arms around your waist tighten as he pulls you closer.
“don’t use my words against me,” chan grins. he places his hand on the back of your head, lightly stroking your hair. your eyes grow heavy and the next thing you know, you’re wavering in between falling asleep and staying awake.
you do hear chan’s voice in the midst of all of this, a soft and gentle, “hey, i love you.” you feel him kiss your forehead before you blissfully fall into oblivion.
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you wake up when chan’s bedroom door bursts open, the door handle hitting the wall.
you raise your head, squinting as you watch chan come in with a tray of food. the aroma hits your nose immediately and your stomach growls softly. he gives you a quick, apologetic smile as he puts the tray down at the edge of the bed.
“good morning,” he greets, running a hand through his hair. he sits down beside the tray and he grins. your eyes travel down his figure, the black formal polo from last night is on his torso again, paired with the boxers, you could only assume, he was wearing last night.
friday, a new work day for the two of you. “good morning to you too, sir,” you mumble before rubbing your eyes. your chest stings from all of the marks from last night and you wince. chan lets out a soft hum, reaching out to hold your hand in his.
“did you sleep well?”
“yeah. thanks to you,” you tease. chan runs his thumb on your palm, inhaling as he looks up at you, cheeks pink.
a comfortable silence falls in the room as the both of you sit in each other’s company. it was overwhelming enough that you woke up in chan’s bed, but now he’s cooked you breakfast, plated it, and put it on a tray to bring to you. it didn’t even occur to you that he knew how to cook. you smile to yourself as you realize— you didn’t know everything about him yet. you part your lips to speak, but you didn’t notice chan doing the same.
“listen—“
“chan—“
“oh, you go firs—“
“no, you can—“
the two of you huff simultaneously, laughing at each other. “you go first,” you giggle. chan nods, coughing into his fist with a smile.
“about last night,” he starts, “i hope i didn’t hurt you too much.”
you look down at your chest playfully as you shrug. “it’s no big deal,” you hum. “i enjoyed it.” chan chuckles in response. he watches as you reach over to the plate, letting go of his hand as you bring the plate to your lap. “did you enjoy?” you question.
“yeah, of course,” chan responds immediately. “what’s not to enjoy? i mean, you were spectacular.”
“i could say the same to you, mister ‘no, i can’t wait anymore’.” you joke. chan’s cheeks flush as he scratches the back of his head sheepishly. you dig in your breakfast as chan does the same, the both of you eating in silence. you rest your back on the headboard and you watch chan. his hair is made already and he looks like he’s ready to start the work day. you bite your lip as you look down, your body merely being covered by the duvet. suddenly, memories of last night flood your mind and you sigh softly.
chan catches it immediately.
“y/n?”
“where does this lead us?” you ask, putting down your utensils. “you know, this—“ you motion between the two of you—“whatever this is.” you didn’t know what answer you’re waiting for, but you hope it’s positive.
chan thinks for a moment and the silence is deafening. he puts his hand on your thigh,   putting down his plate beside him. “we can tell the office that we’re dating or...” he trails off, looking up at the ceiling, “we can keep this between us for now.”
your eyes widen, coughing as you struggle to come up with an answer. you and chan were together now? chan mentioned the word already, right? his eyes grow worried and he comes over to stroke your back. “did i say something wrong?”
“no, god, no, i just didn’t expect—“
“that i liked you back?” chan furrows his eyebrows. “i think last night was proof enough, baby.”
you blush, covering your face in your hands. chan chuckles softly as he leans over to move your hands away. “we can figure it out as we go,” he hums. “you don’t need to give me an answer right now, okay?”
you nod, your mind in shambles. your breath hitches as chan presses a kiss on your wrist. he looks up at you, “once we’re done eating, we can start the day.” you blink at him and he merely laughs.
“are you even ready for today?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, a smile on his lips.
the question hits you in many different ways, your mind travelling back to the last words you heard from him last night. are you ready to finally be with chan after all these years? you scan his face, taking him in as his smile reaches his eyes. chan looked beautiful and you know you wouldn’t be anywhere else, wouldn’t be with anyone else because all you needed is in front of you and he always has been. both of you were just too stupid to admit it to yourselves.
you straighten your back, clear your throat, throw your disheveled hair behind your shoulder, and smile at him.
“ready as i’ll ever be.”
3K notes · View notes
givemethatgold · 3 years
Text
Fix’er Upper Pt. 8
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Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader Warnings: none? Length: 2.1k Notes: I’m sorry, Cyn, I know I said there would be smut but I was just enjoying the slow burn too much. And I just feel like these two NEED this. Not me nervous to write about his p in her v, nooope. Also, I’m wine drunk and did not spell check this bitch, have fun with that. Divider by @firefly-graphics
Series MASTERLIST
The day of the fair had finally arrived and you woke with more than a little excitement churning in your stomach. Multiple meetings at the community center had given you a chance to meet more of the town's population and you'd gained a deeper appreciation for them. Small towns afforded very few entertainments, which had resulted in some of the older kids, driven by boredom, getting into trouble. Minor things like graffiti and trespassing, but the community knew if they weren't careful that things could escalate. So, instead of making the kids feel judged or harshly reprimanded, the town was working towards better programs and facilities to keep them busy.
It was an unseasonably beautiful Autumn day, the kind that carried memories of Summer on the warm breeze. Knowing that cold and snow were just around the corner, these "second summers" made people act a little more recklessly and freely than they usually might. You had a feeling that the crowds tonight were going to be bigger and rowdier than anyone could have hoped for.
Jacquie had stopped by later to offer you a ride to town but you had just sent your baking with her, insisting that you wanted to enjoy the sunshine and bicycle in.
Once you'd entered the main square you were blown away by the effort from the town. Banners, balloons, streamers, and posters were everywhere. A stage for musical acts and a ticket booth had been built and donated by Hank's Hardware, food carts selling anything and everything you could deep-fry were scattered down every road. Carnival games had been set up in rows down multiple, closed-off, streets, as well as people setting up face-painting, balloon animals, and a smaller version of the Saturday Farmer's Market. The high school football field had even been converted to a tiny amusement park with a Ferris Wheel, carousel, and swing ride.
It was still early, and there was still a lot to do before the fair would be open, but the excitement was already palpable. After making sure your pies had been marked down for the auction, you beelined for the water gun race game that you and a lovely woman named Heather had been assigned to operate. 
Too preoccupied with making sure you had the water tanks filled, the pumps were working, and your ticket box was in place you didn't notice how some of the other volunteers were acting strangely, making sidelong glances and meaningful head nods. 
Nothing seemed amiss once Heather had joined you. In fact, you were getting along with her so well the two of you had already made plans to meet for coffee the next day.
Soon, the fair was in full swing. The games booths were a popular stop with families and you were having the time of your life cheering for every child who tried their hand at your game. 
Eventually, there was a natural lull in the festivities as fair-goers drifted from the games towards the food and live entertainment. You were just suggesting making a quick snack run when Heather's phone rang. 
"Sorry, one sec, it's my husband," she grimaced, holding her finger up to stop you from leaving.
In a bid to give her a modicum of privacy, you tallied up the tickets and bunched them into coils for easier counting later. Heather's normally calm voice rose in pitch and urgency, drawing your attention back to her in time to see a look of alarm and annoyance cross her face.  
"What do you mean, burned? Like, burned burned? There's smoke?! Oh, honey, what on earth..." she paused, listening to her husband's voice some more, giving you an eye roll that clearly said 'Men. They're hopeless' and interrupted whatever he had been saying. "Alright, alright. It's slowing down here so I can run home."
Putting her phone back in her purse, Heather turned to you with a huff. "He's burnt dinner, and it sounds like my skillet is toast, too. I'm sorry to do this to you but I need to run to the store and bring dinner home. I've got the only car, so they're stuck."
Assuring her you could manage on your own, you shooed her away and told her to take her time.
Walking backward to wave goodbye, Heather kept spouting numerous apologies and promising she'd make it up to you on your coffee date. Giving one last smile she spun around and immediately ran into old Mrs. Crawley who was being escorted by no other than a very bored and trapped-looking Frankie Morales.
"Oh! Mrs. Crawley! So sorry!" She began, steadying the white-haired octogenarian, "I'm being called home, ditching my post, gotta run, bye!" With that, she was gone, weaving her way through the crowd of people.
Mrs. Crawley had glanced over at you when Heather had mentioned having to leave and was currently shuffling her way towards you, Frankie in tow.
"Frankie, be a dear and help this beautiful lady out while Heather is away."
It wasn't a question but you still felt the need to speak up, giving Frankie an out if he wanted it.
"I can manage-"
"But what about your-"
You'd both spoken at the same time and stopped mid-way through to let the other go first. Mrs. Crawley broke the silence instead.
"My hip is feeling much better, and I think I'll just make my way over to the bandstand," she gave Frankie a meaningful look accompanied by a rather sharper-than-expected slap to his cheek, "alone."
You both watched her walk over to the stage, stopping to wave at Jacquie and Agnes where they were organizing the bake sale.
"What on earth is going on," you thought to yourself while staring daggers at Jacquie from across the street. This had zero effect on her, she was just sending you lewd winks and had the audacity to give Mrs. Crawley a thumbs up. That conniving little-
"Emmmm... hi."
His voice, sounding uncertain and shy, brought your attention back to Frankie. Taking a moment to soak in his presence, you noticed how worn down he looked. "Good," thought the petty part of your brain, but she was easily squashed by the rest of it appreciating the rest of him.
Tight jeans hugging his thighs, the buttons on his shirt working overtime where the material pulled across his back and chest, his hair was long and getting shaggy but when you saw the curls peeking out from under his baseball cap you had to fight the sudden urge to run your fingers through it.
Your eyes traveled up his neck, noting the way his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, and across his face. He'd trimmed his beard, filthy thoughts of how it would feel on your skin flashed in your head.
Finally meeting his eyes with your own, you had to take a breath before replying.
"It's nice to see you, Frankie." Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, drawing his gaze "I guess we should talk-"
You were cut short by rowdy laughter and a crowd of people bustling onto the street, another wave of ticket-holders were coming to try their luck and win the huge teddy bear prize each game boasted.
For the next hour, you were kept too busy to talk more than what was necessary for running the booth. You used the time to gather your thoughts and make a list of what you wanted to say, how you wanted to say it, and how you were going to start the conversation casually.
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Frankie wasn't sure how he had ended up as Mrs. Crawley's crutch. One minute he was dropping off a crate of fruit for the apple bobbing contest and the next he was walking at a snail's pace listening to the old woman reminiscing about her long-dead husband. 
She was sweet, and he didn't mind the slow meander around the square. No, it was the subject matter that had bugged him. After his divorce was finalized and his daughter was taken from him, which he could see now was the right thing to do at the time, Frankie had accepted the fact that he was alone.
Just him, his trees, and the memories of what he did to end up this way.
Then, you had come along. The first woman to catch his attention in five damn years. It wasn't just your beauty, or your easy smile, or the curves of your body. It was your goodness, your innocence, your ability to worm your way into everyone's hearts and not even know it. 
Listening to Mrs. Crawley and the love she had shared made his chest ache, knowing he'd never deserve it himself he still found himself longing for the same. The first moment he had laid eyes on you, it was like a movie about his life had played in flashes in his mind. The meet-cute at the market, romancing you with thoughtful dates like picnics and driving up to the city’s museums and theatre. Getting married, growing the business, then growing your family. It had all played out in a split second but the impression it had left was immeasurable. 
Then, he'd opened his mouth and ruined the moment. Crashed into your truck and ruined the moment. Spooked and burned you, ruining the moment. Gained your trust, broke down your walls, and then left like a coward in the morning and ruined it.
Shaken by his inward reflecting when Mrs. Crawley was jostled, Frankie froze in place once his eyes were directed to where you stood. You were glaring over his shoulder and refusing to meet his eyes, understandably, yet he still felt his chest contract with the hope you'd look at him and smile. 
The way your gaze had eventually taken him in, once he'd been abandoned by a suddenly spry-looking elder, had flared that longing back into a roaring flame. The sudden need to work the booth gave him plenty of time to plan his speech: begging for forgiveness and admitting to the way he felt. While his mind was busy planning his speech, his heart was bursting at how comfortably and effortlessly the two of you worked with each other, like you’d been doing it for years.
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Heather returned, strolling over with a barely concealed smile on her face, not looking at all like she'd just come back from a domestic emergency. This whole town could win an Oscar for their performance tonight, it was mildly humiliating but you knew they were acting out of love.
She thanked Frankie profusely for standing in for her and wouldn't take no for an answer after suggesting the two of you go and enjoy yourselves for a bit. Glancing at Frankie you shrugged your shoulders and made a face that said "why not?". He smiled and nodded back, grabbing your bag and slinging it over his shoulder before joining you on the bustling street.
You walked in comfortable silence for a while, relishing just being near each other and absorbing the jubilant energy surrounding you.
Frankie bought you cotton candy and you made him belly laugh when you showed him the few bottles of cider you'd smuggled in your bag. Seeing the way his face lit up, how he exposed that delicious neck when he threw his head back, hearing the joyous rumble from deep within, sent a realization slamming into you so suddenly it made you stumble.
You loved him.
You might not be in love with him, not yet anyway, but there was a lightness and a warmth in your heart and he had put it there.
Frankie had grabbed your arm when you had stumbled and when you didn't pull away from his touch, his hand slid down your arm and his fingers wove their way through yours.
Walking like this, hand in hand, you found yourselves at the rides.
"I've never been on a Ferris Wheel," he admits to you, craning his head upwards to stare at the top carriage.
Dragging your eyes away from his neck, again, it took your brain a moment to acknowledge what he’d said. "What?!" You expressed with mock horror, already making your way toward the ride’s gate, "Then let's remedy that!"
"I'm- uh this is stupid," he was barely moving with you and adjusted his hat, a nervous tick you'd noticed, "I'm scared of heights."
This admission stopped you in your tracks.
"Frankie." You deadpanned, gripping his hand and pulling on it to emphasize your words, "You're. A. Pilot."
He groaned and you were sure you could see a blush creeping up from beneath his collar, "I know! I know. It's just that, up there?" He stops with a sigh, gazing at the stars wistfully, "I'm in control. I trust myself."
"Do you trust me?" You ask him softly gripping his hand between the both of yours.
Frankie gazed at your face for a breath, not in a way that made you think he was hesitating, it was more like he was pausing so you knew the full weight of his words.
"I trust you with everything."
PART NINE
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reluctant-mandalore · 3 years
Text
Clarity (Din Djarin x gn!Reader)
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Chapter One: The Herbalist
Living on a desert planet as a herbalist had its downsides, and it definitely was not the easiest life to live. It was the only one you had ever known though, and even if you had wished for a better one, you knew that it would never come.
 This all changes of course when a Mandalorian comes to your town looking for a quarry with a high price on their head. 
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Warnings: slow burn, kidnapping/hostage, herbalist!reader, I’m not sure what to tag for this chap tbh. 
Word Count: 4829
Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!Reader
a/n: This chapter gives a lot of background to the reader’s life on their home planet. You’re a herbalist, trying to survive on your desert like planet, when Din comes and pretty much kidnaps you though at this moment you don’t know why. Other than the introduction to reader’s background and life as a herbalist, there is no other descriptions of the reader themselves. The rest is up to you. This is mostly a set up chapter. Also, I tried to give Tarth an accent(?), but I’m not very good with writing things like that yet. :/
The days on your home planet were long and overbearing. Its sun had hung high and large within the vast sky. Allowing for its viscous rays to warm everything they had touched. Even during the night—when the sun had laid to rest and the stars had begun to peek awake—the blistering heat was still unfazed. Nothing could escape the sun’s wraith it seemed.
Not even you.
Walking through its vast dunes after your morning herb scavenging, had only made it apparent to you of how dry and practically lifeless the land had appeared. The sea of sand being one of the only things you could lay your sights on for many miles on end.
Oftentimes you felt as if you were traveling through a smoldering graveyard. This thought only being amplified when you had come across some bones peeking out from the loose grains below your feet. A find which had always made you shudder. You knew one day that could be you lying among the dunes—left only as a reminder of how deadly the desert could be.
This was why you had usually tried to leave in the early morning for your daily gathering. Today you had regrettable slept in though, and had ended up leaving later than usual. It had still been morning when you had left of course, but with how much you needed to gather, it had also meant that you were returning closer to the afternoon time. Now you were simply suffering the consequences of your morning self’s actions.
Rather than wallow in your own self-pity though, you had decided to focus on that task at hand. Besides—the image of the large gate belonging to your city was beginning to come closer and closer the more you had walked. So with this in mind—combined with your refusal to succumb to the cruelty of your homeworld and your own stupidity—you had pressed on.
Finally entering into the city walls had brought some much needed relief to your mind, and you had found your steps beginning to slow the further you went into its streets. While making your way to the market, you had shifted through the content of your basket. Soon finding yourself quite pleased with the plentiful of goods you had managed to find this morning. Hopefully, you would be able to get a good handful of credits from selling—especially with how busy the city seemed to be today.
Despite your home planet’s reputation, the town you resided in was small and quite overpopulated. People from all kinds of backgrounds—the good and the bad—seemed to find themselves attracted to your town regardless of its surroundings. This had made it so that the streets were nearly always lined and flooded with a sea of people wandering around. Thus making it great for selling anything and everything you could get your hands on.
Most of these folks were just visitors looking to refuel their ships, or buy any needed supplies they required. They were the pleasant ones usually. Leaving as quickly and quietly as they had arrived. Others though had of course come for some more unsavory and sinister reasons.
There was no lying about how dangerous a town like this one could be, especially when those with a tainted past had come looking for a hideaway. From simple smugglers to terrifying war criminals—all sort of vile folk had found themselves trying to turn your little town into their new sanctuary. It was these types of visitors who had made you happy to see the bounty hunters roaming about the streets.
The bounty hunters would usually appear out of the blue. Their arrival always quieter than anything you had ever seen. As they had found themselves searching for whichever criminal who had decided to hide out here within the city walls.
Many of your neighbours had seemed to take fright at the sight of a fierce bounty hunter lurking around the city, but you usually took joy at the prospect of them. The knowledge of—whether they meant to do it or not—them making your home just a little bit safer for the locals who dwelled here being usually a happy one for you personally.
Any improvement—no matter how small—was still improvement in your eyes and your town definitely needed that improvement.
While others had busied themselves with hunting down the scum of the Galaxy. Most of your own days had been spent in the market square at the center of town. There you would start off with selling any scrap metal or parts you had found in your morning gathering. Only then would you make your way to your usual table next to the local fruit and veggie stall. The owner of the stall—Tarth—would let you use one of his tables to set up whatever herbs or medicines you had managed to collect and produce.
Throughout the town, you were mostly known for selling herbs and medicine. You had picked up the practice from your late parents when young, and had continued it long after they had passed. All sorts of people would seek you out when a loved one was ill. As they had hoped you had something in your limited supply that could cure whichever sickness had overcome them.
Though at times it was hard, you did your best to help everyone you could. You knew how painful the death of someone you cared for could be. However, there were always those cases where you had nothing to give. Sometimes your supply was just too low, or the needed herb was just not in stock. That was just how life was you supposed—especially out here of all places.  
Medical herbs were hard to come by in the wasteland, as plant life was hard to find within its hills of rolling sand. They were there though, and you considered yourself quite the herb finding expert at this point. You had to be after all. Otherwise you probably wouldn’t have survived as long as you had.
Every morning—with the sun just barely rising over the horizon—you would leave the comfort of your home and search the desolate landscape. Trying to scourge up whatever little plant life you could. There were some days where you returned with nothing but sand filled shoes and empty pockets, while others contained plentiful finds.
Today of course had been one of the latter, which was most likely due to the blissful rain your area had experienced the few previous nights. So when approaching the market you couldn’t help but grin at the prospect of having a good day of sales. Though you had quickly found that smile dropping at the worried chatter which filled the streets around you.
Gossip and rumours were quite normal in a town such as yours. There always seemed to be something new going on with its wall. Although usually you had found yourself trying to ignore the chatter. As you most of the time you didn’t see the need to listen to such things. Today’s information had piqued your interest though, as the people around you had discussed the arrival of a stranger in your hometown.
This stranger being that of a Mandalorian.
According to them, he had been spotted lurking through the streets late last night. He was most likely looking for someone too. A bounty to be more specific. Something which hadn’t surprised you in the slightest with the reputation of the town, and with what little knowledge you had of the famed warriors.
When finally reaching the market, you had smiled at the sight of Tarth at his stall, and had given him a little wave when your eyes met his own. Tarth had been a business friend of your parents from when they were both alive and selling their own products. After their passing, him and his wife had taken to keeping an eye on you as best as they could, all while also having five children of their own to raise no less. They were kind to you, and though not able to exactly raise you themselves, they helped you as much as they were able.
So when you had wanted to start selling your own herbs and medicine—but couldn’t afford your own stall—Tarth had offered you to use one of the tables set up at his. You had accepted graciously and swore to pay him back one day. Although he had always insisted there was no need for such a thing. You’d pay him back anyway of course—it was the least you could do for everything he and his wife had done to help you after all.
After having walked around a bit—selling off what you could and buying some much needed supplies—you had made your way back to Tarth’s stand. When you had arrived, he smiled at you, and his eyes had crinkled at their corners with the wide stretch of his grin. His free hand soon had soon patted the empty table where you would set up products, before he had returned to talking with his current customer.
Shortly after you had set up for the rest of the day, the market had become overcrowded with people. You had very quickly found yourself selling just as you did any other day. Helping people with whatever you could offer them. Only letting out a small breath of relief when the rush had begun to die down a little. It would probably pick up soon, but you relaxed into the brief break you could take anyway.
“You were late, ya know?” Tarth’s sudden voice next to you had made you jump from surprise, though the chuckle you had heard from him had made you relax again.
“I know… I’m sorry Tarth.” You had replied to him with a shy smile. “I got a late start to the day, so my gathering was later than usual.”
“Figured as much.” He had let out a small grumble. His small frown not hiding the worry he felt from you as he spoke. “Next time come to our place, myself or one of the kids will go with ya, so yer not alone.”
“Oh no that’s not necessary.”
“Are ya kiddin’ me?” He had scuffed cutting you off with a shake of his head. His hands motioning to you in a dramatic manner as he continued. “Look at ya! It's like you crawled out of a sandpit.”
You had looked down at yourself then. True to his words you were quite a mess. Patches of sand and dirt had littered your clothes. It was a poor sight to be sure, but it was one you and the other folks had come far to used to.
“Tarth I’m fine! Nothing I’m not used to by now.”
He had let out a displeased hum at your words. His gaze shifting from yours to look out across the market square again, as a heavy sigh had left him. “I know but… Ah nevermind. There’s extra water and some food in my pack if ya need any. Alema made sure to pack some for ya.”
“Thanks Tarth.” You had said, as you had decided to take him up on his offer and had gone to drink some of the blissful liquid he had brought for you. “I appreciate it a lot.”
“Heh, don’t mention it kid.”
The afternoon had been busy, as the market square had become overcrowded with people again all too quickly. You weren’t complaining of course. The business and the large amount of visitors had only meant good sales for you after all. Other than your earlier morning mishap, the day had been going fine anyway. Though your good mood had dwindled far too fast for your liking at the appearance of a new guest within the market.
When helping a woman with her purchase of some medicine, the bright glinting of metal in the sunlight had caught your eye. The glimmer had caused for you to glance throughout the market square for its source, and by doing so you had found your gazed suddenly locked with that of a helmet’s vizor. The vizor of a Mandalorian to be more exact.
For a long moment you had stood there frozen in place. Your eyes had been effectively locked with his own steady gaze, and an unexpected shudder of fear had blossomed in your gut at the sight of him. The breath you had held in your throat had burned, as you had almost forgotten to breathe with how loud your heart thundered within its cavity. While before you had welcomed the idea of a Mandalorian into your town, actually setting your sights on him was another story all together. He was awe-striking, but at the same time, he was also terrifying.
So the rumors had turned out to be true. There was in fact a Mandalorian stalking through your little town, and he was staring right at you. Unrelentingly no less.
The two of you had stared at each other for what felt like an entirety—though really it was more likely just a few minutes—as neither of you gazes had faltered away. His own stare had been intense and almost deathly. There was no emotion to be felt from him. Although, that helmet he wore did a fine job at hiding any expression he could ever process anyway. As it had left him only as an emotionless slate to strike fear into all those who dared a peek. If anything, the helmet only added to his dangerous allure. The atmosphere surrounding him becoming more suffocating than that of the sun’s heat.
“Do you all just see him too?” One nearby merchant had said—a middle aged woman who you recognized as the one who you had sold some scrap metal too earlier—a look of fear and worry in her murky eyes.
“Yes! He must have a bounty on someone here.” Another had replied—the man from the jewelry stall—his mouth in a thin line as he looked from his purchased fruits to the man in armor across the square. “I feel bad for whoever that person is.”
The lady who had just bought some medicine from you had looked over in shock too at the sight of the bounty hunter. Her eyes instantly becoming wide, as she clutched her child closer into her chest. “Oh that’s terrifying! I wonder who he could be after?”
“I don’t know or care. I just want him and that bounty of his gone. His presence is scaring everyone and chasing away customers.” Tarth had finally chimed in, ending his words with a huff, as he was clearly annoyed with the whole ordeal. He was right of course. The new appearance of the Mandalorian was in fact causing the crowd to dwindle away quite steadily. “You’d think he’d hurry it up. Bet ya he’s sweating up a storm in all that armor.”
Tarth’s last comment had made you let out a small laugh, and you had finally broken the eye contact you had held with the bounty hunter in question. Though the new found freedom of that action didn’t stop you from keeping a watch of him through the corner of your eyes for the rest of the day.
Even by the end of the day, he had hardly moved from the spot where you had first laid your sights on him. Instead he had remained firmly in place. His back still against the wall he leaned on and his arms crossed over his chestplate, as his gaze had never shifted away from your direction. A small drop of worry had told that he was in fact staring at you in particular, but you had tried to reassure yourself that couldn’t be true. After all—why would a Mandalorian be interested in you? You were just a simple herbalist.
Regardless of who, he was definitely watching someone, and you had pitied whoever it may be.
Eventually, you did breathe a sigh of relief when you had finally seen him move from his spot. Your gaze following his form and refusing to leave it, as he made his way out of the market square. Most of the other people were beginning to leave now as well, and many other vendors were also starting to pack for the night.
The sun had begun to set over the horizon by this point after all. Its sinking rays casting an orange glow across the wide sky. The stars had even started to peek out from beneath their blanket of daylight. Gleaming brighter and stronger as the sky had darkened. Night was quickly approaching clearly. Which meant that it was time for you and the other people of your town to be on your way home.
The city wasn’t safe at night—it wasn’t even considered safe during the day—and no one wanted to be caught out during the late hours. Those times were when the more those vile of folk liked to come out and play. Then of course, when adding the new arrival of the Mandalorian on top of that, everyone just knew they didn’t want to be caught outdoors tonight.  
“Welp, it’s that time of the day dear. Time to start heading back. Ya don’t wanna be out past dark.” Tarth had said to you as he slid the doors to his cart shut. The old wooden doors rattling as the lock had clicked into place. “Lots of bad folks have been out and about lately.”
You had hummed in agreement, and soon you had stood to stretch out your back, as it had begun to feel sore from the position you had sat in all day. Only then did you begin to pack up your leftover supplies—smiling over at the food seller as you did. “As if that Mandalorian didn’t make that evident enough.”
“Ugh. Don’t get me started on that!” He had grumbled with another irritated huff. His arms crossing as he looked out across the market square. His gaze quickly landing on the spot where the said bounty hunter had spent most of the day. His face had held a scowl. The wrinkles along it deepening and the frown he wore growing the longer he stared at it. “He was there nearly all afternoon! Probably scared off at least half of the customers today.”
Another little hum of agreement had left you in reply, though you found yourself more focused on organizing your stuff in the basket rather than the man's anger. “Let’s hope he gets whoever he’s after soon then.”
“Yup, yup.” He had said while scratching at the fine grey hairs on his chin, seemingly to ponder in thought for a moment. “The faster it happens, the better.
After you finished gathering up your things—placing your unsold items into the handwoven basket—you had slung your satchel over your shoulder. Turning to look at Tarth once more, you had intended on saying farewell, but had instead paused in confusion at the expression he wore.
“What?”
“I was thinking I should walk you home.” He had said. “I’d want someone to do the same for one of my own kids. It’s dangerous after all. 'specially with that Mandalorian and his bounty running about.”
“Don’t worry about me Tarth.” A small smile had appeared on your lips, replacing your confused expression with one of fondness. “I’ll be fine on my own—always have and always well.”
His frown had only deepened at your reply. His eyes filled with undeniably concern, as he crossed his arms again while staring you down. Tarth really did treat you as his own child at times. “Now listen here-”
“-Tarth I’ll be fine! Don’t worry about me.”
“Alema and I will always worry about ya.” He had sighed, though he had smiled wryly at you as his gaze had softened. “We worry about you just as if you were our own kid.”
“I know and you know how much I’ve appreciated all these years where you’ve both watched out for me.” Saying this, fond memories had begun to flood your mind of the two. Though soon and almost proudly, you had grinned at him. “I’m an adult now though, so don’t worry about me too much. I can handle myself now!”
He had only sighed bitterly at knowing he wasn’t going to win this fight. “If ya say you’ll be fine... then I guess I’ll just have to accept that. You’re more stubborn than my wife at times, ya know?”
“No arguments there!” A giggle left you at his reply and you gave one more smile to your friend, “See you tomorrow Tarth!”
“Yeah, yeah. Just get home safely, ya hear?”
A nod and a wave was your final reply to the older man before you had turned to start heading in the direction of your home. Now finding yourself happy to finally get back to get some well deserved rest—especially after the day you had suffered through.
The walk home that evening had started the same way it always had—with you humming a sweet tune to yourself and saying good night in passing to those of which you had known. Though the more you had traveled, the more you had found yourself with a feeling of unease suddenly growing inside of your mind.
It almost felt as if you were being watched or even followed while on your way home. This new feeling of nervousness refusing to leave no matter how hard you had tried to convince yourself of it otherwise. Soon finding yourself becoming more frightened at the sight of the slowly emptying streets with each step you took.
This had been where you had begun to ponder your different options for the moment. Taking the main streets—though more safer generally—usually took longer to travel. By the time you would return home, it would have already become way past dark. On the other hand, you could take the back alleys. Which admittedly had seemed appealing to you at the moment. They were like a shortcut of sorts, and if you took them, you’d end up returning home before either of the moons had even a chance to rest themselves within the night sky. Though of course, there was always that risk factor with them, as you could never be too sure of who would be lurking within their walls.
Maybe you should have let Tarth take you home.
The feeling of being followed had made you want to return quicker in the end though. So you had found yourself leaning towards the alleyways rather than the main streets. You figured they would be your best bet. What was the worst that could happen anyway? You may not be the strongest person in the Galaxy, but you could handle yourself most of the time. Everything would be fine at the end of the day anyway.
That was what you had tried to tell yourself at least.
The alleys were dark and eerie, but had still felt oddly safe in a way. Even though with every corner the feeling that you were being followed had increased—you still felt fine and had even felt your mood pick up the closer you got to home. It wouldn’t be long now till you returned. Only one more abandoned street to travel along and you would be home. Nice and safe.  
Your fear had spiked again though at the glimpse of a large figure out of the corner of your eye. Dread had instantly consumed you at the sight of it, and you had felt your stomach become a flutter at the realization of it all being very real. Someone was in fact following you home. Who? You didn’t know— and honestly—you didn’t want to know.  
Thanks to your newfound fright, you had picked up your pace, now practically running as you went. The basket in yours had been pulled closer into your chest as you ran, and your breathing had increased dramatically with the panic you had felt. The end of the last alley was quickly approaching though—with every sinking step you took into the sand bringing you closer and closer to safety.
Home was only a few steps away, and a sigh of relief had left you at the sight of the light at the end of the alley. The main street was coming into view and you swore that you could even see your little house from here. Even the sound of what was left of the earlier crowd could still be heard as you approached. Their shadows passing by the entrance to the alleyway in which you had travelled. The sight of which making you feel so hopeful and reassured.
The safety of home was just within your grasp—so close and yet still so far—but you would be safe soon regardless of this fact.
Though unfortunately you would never reach your home.
Before you could even step out into the evening light—and just as your foot had made to exit into the main street—a hand had reached out from the darkness towards your form. It had grabbed you quickly. So fast in fact, that you hadn’t even realized what was happening until it was too late.
One arm had placed itself firmly around your midsection. While its twin had clamped over your mouth before a scream could even pass your lips. The basket of goods that were once held tightly in your hands had tumbled to the ground. Its contents spilling all over the sandy street below you and your attacker.
The person had instantly pulled you close into their hard chest. Their arms holding you tightly in their grasp like a cage that refused to budge. The grip around you had been unrelenting and overpowering. The strength behind it only making you panic more in your attempts to free yourself from them. Although such freedom would never come, as instead, you had only found yourself being dragged further into the alleyway.
They had captured you so easily, and it had honestly made you feel so unbelievably helpless.
It also didn’t seem to matter what you had tried to do to escape in the moment. The clawing at their arms had only made their unwanted embrace tighten around you, and digging your heels into the ground had been useless thanks to the loose sand beneath your feet. Then of course squirming around and kicking at the attackers own legs had done nothing but encourage the person to pull you into the darkened alley even quicker.
At one point you had even bit down into the hand over your mouth. The taste of leather and blaster residue flooding over your taste buds as you did. Though the only thing you had received in response to your retaliation was a grunt of disapproval. Their gloved fingers in return only digging more harshly into your skin, and refusing to allow you any more wiggle room in the slightest.
Whoever this was was much stronger than you could ever hope to be, and they clearly out skilled you in every aspect. It seemed like you weren’t going to be escaping from them so easily.  
The light at the end of the alleyway had dimmed with every step further into the darkness, and you had felt yourself cry at the sight of your safety fading away. The tears which had formed at the corner of your eyes rolling down them in thick trails. All while the fear and panic you had felt consumed you to your very core. Not even a scream could leave you thanks to the hand still clamped over your mouth. Its placement muffling any sound you had tried to make. No one had seemed to pick up on your predicament. Which meant no one would be coming to rescue you from this person taking you away.
When your attacker had felt like they had pulled you deep enough into the alley. Where the likelihood of anyone hearing or seeing you was at its smallest. They had shoved you roughly into the nearest wall. They had turned you to face them as they did. The sharp gesture making your back slam into the filthy stone behind you.
On instinct, your eyes had closed and your body had hunched into itself as if it was trying to protect you from any incoming blows. None had come though, and instead all you had felt was their body moving to pin you more firmly into place.
The wall had dug sharply into your back now, and you had winced as its sharp edges poked and pierced your delicate skin. A blaster had been roughly shoved into your chest by this point. The end pointed in the dead center of it and openly taunting you with taking your life. Allowing your eyes to finally open, you had felt your stomach drop at the sight of the now familiar visor staring deeply into your soul.
“I can bring you warm, or I can bring you in cold.”
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rohans18 · 1 year
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Wound Irrigation Systems Market CAGR, Trends, Top Players, Analysis, Industry Size - Forecast 2029
Global Wound Irrigation Systems Market, By Type (Manual, Battery-Operated), Product type (Irrigation Fluids, Antiseptics, Topical Antibiotics, Wetting Agents), End User (Hospitals, Ambulatory Surgical Centres, Clinics, Long-Term Care Centers, Home Care Centers), Wound Type (Burns, Chronic Wounds) – Industry Trends and Forecast to 2029.
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BIONIX, INC. (U.S.)
Teleflex Incorporated (U.S.)
WestMed Medical Group (U.S.)
Braun Melsungen AG (Germany)
Zimmer Biomet (U.S.)
Stryker (U.S.)
BD (U.S.)
Medtronic (Ireland)
Cooper Surgical Inc. (U.S.)
Cardinal Health (U.S.)
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Report provides insights on the following pointers:
Market Penetration: Comprehensive information on the product portfolios of the top players in the Wound Irrigation Systems Market.
Product Development/Innovation: Detailed insights on the upcoming technologies, R&D activities, and product launches in the market.
Competitive Assessment: In-depth assessment of the market strategies, geographic and business segments of the leading players in the market.
Table Of Content
Part 01: Executive Summary
Part 02: Scope Of The Report
Part 03:  Global Market
Part 04: Global Market Size
Part 05: Global Market Segmentation By Product
Part 06: Five Forces Analysis
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molkolsdal · 4 years
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Pakistan's Transgender Community Is Hiding Out in a Hostile City
As Peshawar has come under increasing sway of an extremist view of Islam, its community of transgender hijras has been increasingly marginalized.
By Beenish Ahmed, 16/05/2014 Photos by Abdul Majeed Goraya
"My father used to beat me and ask, 'Why do you have to go around pretending to be a girl?'"
Now at 35, she says her cheeks burn and fists tighten if anyone refers to her as a man.
Khushboo, whose name means fragrance, classifies herself as a hijra, a South Asian gender designation that encompasses transgender and transexual people, as well as transvestites and eunuchs.
She has a different definition for herself and the estimated hundreds of thousands of other hijras across the region. "Our souls are female and our bodies are male," she says, dipping a rag into a red plastic pail filled with a chalky mixture of water and face powder. Surrounded by a group of several other hijras in a room they call their "office," Khushboo smears the dripping rag over her face and adds, "I've known I was a hijra since I was a child."
She used to wear her sisters' clothes. At 16, Khushboo slipped out of the house in one of their outfits and didn't return home for years. Along with another hijra, she settled in Peshawar, a city in northwestern Pakistan one night's drive from the costal city of Karachi where she'd grown up.
Peshawar has long been home to cultural traditions that insist on strict gender segregation, and the city has come under increasing sway of an extremist view of Islam in recent years. These intolerant, conservative beliefs are made brutally clear through the bombings and shootings that are now near-weekly occurrences. Taliban suicide bombers killed 85 worshippers at a church there last September, and militants killed thirteen people at a cinema showing pornographic movies in February. Lesser attacks are momentary blips on local news coverage featuring bloodied streets and blaring sirens.
Khushboo points to battered doors and broken windows around her. She says young men—"college boys" she calls them—wreak havoc on her and fellow hijras who are preparing for a dance performance later that night. Sometimes the men recite scripture and beat the hijras to shame them out of their profession as dancers, and other times they force them to dance or even rape them, she tells me.
Despite the extremism that has only further marred the city since her arrival nearly 20 years ago, Khushboo has an affinity for Peshawar because it's where she had a sort of rebirth as her new self.
Free from the abuse of her father and brothers, as well as the sense of dishonor she felt on behalf of her mother and sisters, Khushboo embraced a new life of openness—and was adopted into a new family.
"In this field we have mothers. We have gurus. We have uncles and aunts," she says, and then points to a girl who's rolling a spliff in the corner of the room. "She's my daughter. I'm a daughter of someone so she has a grandmother too. And," Khushboo adds, "She also has a father."
That last bit comes so quickly that I almost miss it. I inquire further about the girl's "papa" and Khushboo says, "Her father is married to someone else, but he loves me." She then goes on to explain what their relationship entails—and it's all very practical until it gets utterly tragic: "If I'm sick, he comes by and brings me medicine," she says proudly. "If I don't have money he drops some cash off. If I die, it's this man who will dress me up as a man and take my body to his house to carry out the cemetery. He might not explain the full story and just say that I was killed in the market or that there was some kind of shooting, but he's the one who will take care of the funeral."
I can't help but think that this grim possibility is one that Khushboo has discussed with her "husband"—and one that he too has come to terms with.
"In Pakistani society, there is a really strong [sense of] place and family," says Dr. Jamil Ahmad Chitrali, a professor of anthropology. "There is no alternative for anyone."
Based at the University of Peshawar, Chitrali has written about the city's hijra community. He says that by forging the same sorts of familial connections that they left behind, hijras create a social order that mimics the very society from which many of them fled.
"It's forcing all those revolutionary individuals who are against those binaries of man and woman to come into a structure which is reaffirming patriarchy," he says.
Pakistan's hijras have made some strides in recent years despite their rather isolated existence. In 2012, the Pakistani Supreme Court allowed for a "third gender" category to be added to national identity cards, which effectively gave hijras increased legal standing. It's because of this broader recognition that hijras could vote in that year's presidential election—at least five hijras even ran for office.
But the third gender classification has made little practical difference in Khusbhoo's life. "We live in a third world," she says, the difference between her life and that of a cisgender person just as stark as the difference between life in Pakistan, and say, Monaco.
And, she says, no matter what she does, she'll always be seen as different.
"Even if I give up dancing, everyone will still call me a hijra so what's the point? Why not do what I love?" She adds that even if she were to become a traveling evangelist, her family would still regard her with the same disdain. "I'm better off staying a hijra."
And that's the hardest thing that Khushboo has to face: her family. She got back in touch with them after five years of not speaking, and goes to see them in Karachi at least once a year. But when she does, she goes dressed as a man.
Though she moves about as a woman in Peshawar, Khushboo wears a black floor length, full-sleeved robe (or abaya), and a face covering (or niqab) that reveals only her eyes to hide herself from prying eyes. Even so, she's been thrown out of several houses by people who fear hijras will ruin their neighborhood.
While they occupy a marginalized space across Pakistan, hijras are probably worst off in Peshawar. In all of the other major cities in the country, they are frequent sites at traffic intersections or in shopping centers where they offer a prayer for a few rupees. Many passersby fear denying them might mean a curse and so will either oblige quickly or turn away completely.
I've spent a lot of time in Peshawar over the years, and have never seen hijras out in public the way they are in other cities. After speaking with Professor Chitrali, I learned that might be because hijras have a different role in the Pathan society that dominates the Peshawar area. In this part of the country, hijras aren't seen to have some sort of greater spiritual connection than cisgender people—instead, their role is celebratory. They're often asked to sing and dance at weddings and births.
"It's their performance which gives [a family] social recognition," Chitrali says, though the tradition is fading as weddings move from family houses into wedding halls. Some might have other professions—Khushboo says she has hijra friends who are lawyers and pilots and act cisgender in order to maintain their jobs, though they're free to "be themselves" with her and other hijras. Due to a lack of societal acceptance, many hijras live marginalized lives as low-income entertainers, but they've got a bit of a role as educators, too. Hijras sometimes teach—or even initiate—young men into sex. For many in Peshawar who live by strict religious and cultural codes that denounce almost any pre-marital interaction between the sexes as sinful, hijras provide a sort of in-between, or a "cushion," as Chitrali calls it.
"If you cross the domain of manhood into womanhood, that is against the culture, that is crossing your limits. But you can always move into the gray area, so this hijra community, in that sense, in a clear binary of man and woman among Pathans, [forms] a gray area." But he says that this "learning experience" is becoming less common with such how-to's readily available on the internet.
In Peshawar's increasingly religiously-motivated milieu, the presence of hijras—be they dancers or sex workers—is frowned upon and politicians vie for favor by pushing them out of their homes and worksites.
Seeing this, Malik Iqbal says he wanted to do something. "I sympathize with them because no one gives them any space," he tells me.
He rents out the office that Khusboo and her fellow hijras use to prepare for their dances.
"I didn't used to be on their side," Iqbal says. "Now I help them. I say they're humans too. We should have some empathy for that reason. Not just me, everyone should empathize with them as people."
But some believe Iqbal's connection to hijras goes beyond a shared humanity. Though he refuses to speak about it, Iqbal was arrested in 2010 for attempting to marry a hijra called Rani. Such a union would be illegal under Pakistani law, which only recognizes marriages between men and women. He has repeatedly denied the charge and claimed that police were trying to extort money from hijras at an event that wasn't a marriage but an innocent birthday party. Either way, the shock the story garnered reveals just how far removed everyday Pakistanis are from the hijra community. A big-grossing film called Bol, or Speak—released in 2011—may have helped some, but real connections like Iqbal's remain few.
And not everyone in close proximity to hirjas is sympathetic. Noor Illahi, who owns a grain shop down the street from the hijras' office, doesn't have a problem with the hijras themselves or even their work, but thinks they should find some other place to go. "My work has suffered because of them. The other storeowners and I, we think they should be given some place off to the side. It should be separate."
He's worked in his store for 15 years and says that sales have dropped fifty percent since the hijras set up shop next door a few years ago. "There are a lot of fights here now. They create quite a scene sometimes."
The raucousness has driven away his customers. Those who stop in the area are more interested in the hijras than the sacks of flour he has for sale.
"I'm not personally offended by them. But look," he says, pointing to a group of several white shalwar kameez-clad men loitering outside the hijra's building. "These poor people have earned just three or four hundred rupees all day ($3-4) and they'll come here and waste it all on them."
The men are all rickshaw drivers. One by one, they go on the record to deny being there to solicit sex. "We're just here to chit chat with them," one says while peering over his shoulder to see if any of the hijras have come out into the alley. "It's a totally innocent relationship that we have with them."
Back up in the hijras' office, the lights have gone out as a part of the rolling power outages that have frustrated Pakistanis for years. It might be another hour before they're ready to leave for their performance. When they do, they'll be cloaked in massive shawls and under the cover of night.
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Turn Christmas:  Hidden in Finery
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A Robert Townsend & Arielle Nathan story I was meant to publish awhile back but forgot about so happy late December 17th!! 
The problem of forgetting you are trapped is when the trap twists itself around your ankle, and you dare to show your distress.                                                     At Rivington’s, she had forgotten about it all, the redcoats and the beatings from Captain Hennely’s wife. In the daze of candlelight and a humorous conversation, she forgot about the war outside her door. She forgot about her role as prisoner & friend, governess & respectable guest she forgot about all the titles given to her when James Rivington made a joke or John André mused a poem out loud.
Arielle forgot about her family being miles away in Philadelphia when Robert smiled at her.
That rare secret smiles that she tugged close to her chest.  Robert Townsend had many ways of smiling- the polite line for drunk customers who ranted about everything and nothing, that reserved smile of amusement when Rivington would refer to him as “Robby Boy” or her favourite- well favourite two.
The sly one that would catch the glint in his eyes when something amused him- genuinely unrefined. It could be a joke or a complaint made by a person, or perhaps it was a thought that crossed his mind. Those rare melancholic free thoughts as he laughed to himself about a uniform three sizes too big on a young officer or the invisible ink debacle. Arielle liked those smiles.
The one she loved, was that gentle smile unaided by a raise of his eyebrows or a slant of his chin. No, instead it draped over his lips in momentary content. His witty smiles were regular affairs that fluttered her chest- these gentle ones; a rarer variety as if budgeted and allotted in his monthly account books—emerging when he felt in control when the world stopped spinning, when everything felt in order- as if Robert had not sacrificed all his prospects in a high stakes gamble. That of a spy; that of life and death.
When he first gave her that smile, her heart melted. She realised that the love she thought she had felt previously was nothing because she wanted to imprint this moment in her very being. She was longing for some reception, for some encouragement. Arielle could still recall the way his eyes softened when the coffeehouse was closing, and he glanced up from his books and smiled—not seeing her as out of place in this world of his but rather a comforting part of it, amongst the candles burning low and the day's numbers recorded.
This sense of belonging was not here tonight. Andre was away at dinner and Rivington was entertaining a table of ladies. The one man she did care about was tending to his wares—streets away which at this table felt like oceans away.
Bitterness coursed her chest, gripped at her tongue, forcing her to taste anxiety in her bones and the resentment of this cage. This cage that had deceived her so well until the cards were laid in front of her. Numbers racked up in debt, the men around her smelt like gin and rum, like a pulsing wound under bandages. Toxic and jaundiced.
Captain Hennely, the fool, was in debt and racking it up fast as he insisted on another betting coin. Arielle watched him with abject horror- leading him to snap at her “Shut your damn eyes constantly!” “Judas of a woman!” the two alternating every two minutes. When he lost a round, he slammed his fist down in front of her. If he chose not to bring it down on the table, he could quickly bring it down on her, to her stomach and thighs, causing her heart to patter in her throat.
Arielle could not just leave, to find another table even when she longed for anyone else's company. For if she tried to move he would snap about having to keep an eye on her. That someone should see his victory should learn the value of coin over-etching it out in budget plans.
The man he gambled against was a wolf of a man. Conniving and greedy for anything that glittered. Rivington once told her that he got violent with anyone who tried to cheat him. Oft, dragging them to the nearest alleyway to crash bone against bone. Townsend’s nod told Arielle this wasn't just James’s typical exaggerations. This man focused his gaze on her neck, on her necklace like a fox upon a goose.
Upon the pearl and aquamarine choker, a gift from her parents, the first necklace of significance she was allowed to own; Not to share the diamonds and pearls with her sister or mother from the family safe. Not the gold chains of girlhood. This necklace was her sixteenth birthday present, a present that told her she was now allowed her safekeeping items. The pearls were small white river pearls that circles her neck in singular role while in the center was a cushion-cut aquamarine secured in gold plated brass while hanging from it was a baroque seawater pearl, with its pear shape, that felt like a tear, the size of her thumbnail- small, delicate yet strong.
This necklace may not have been the most costly, but it had sentimental value, it demonstrated when Arielle has first trusted with value herself and now this man wanted it. Hennley failed his bet and had no money to give. Taking the opportunity, the man demanded her necklace to settle all debt- so he could play another night again.
She began to refuse, this was not his to give it was hers- it was her possession. “I apologise sir but this is mine, it is not for sale”. It was then she realised she was still entrapped that she was the property of the crown, that a last-minute cry saying it belonged to her father meant nothing.
He slammed his hand in front of her, the same way Hennley did. Demanding it outright or else that captain would be no longer, and she wouldn’t want that. Oh, see how I care Arielle thought spitefully, at first. Drag him by his guts for all I care this is mine. Her barred teeth in a snarl meant nothing. For every time, her emotions began to get out of check, that another guest may notice- this same captain pinched her hand. “It doesn't belong to you, it belong to the Crown and as you’re exchequer I demand you hand it over”
Protests died on Arielle’s lips as tears pricked her eyes. Her neck felt cold as her possession was stored safely in the man’s hand. “It will fetch for a fair price” he murmured as he passed her. Straight to the market. Away from her hands. Standing sharpley she demanded a coin- a carriage she was going home. Henley handed her a coin reluctantly “be prudent with your travel” he had such a nerve.
No one met her eye, Rivington continued chatting, Andre was still gone and Robert was far away while she was left feeling like a bartered whore- none of her possessions bound to her by ownership let alone honor. Her anxiety fretted- what else will they take from her?
The accounts were in check, the stock for the Christmastide sales was prepared. When Robert Townsend came back to Rivington’s the following day everything felt alright. He was prepared for last minute officers trying to barter the price of rum. He had everything from second hand goods to newer ones. Abraham often critiqued him for his loyalty to his business. Accusing him of not engaging with the Ring fully in order to save his own income. Fool.
That was the only answer Robert would give to it. It is not like he spent nights awake pondering if there was any merit in his words.
There was one thing out of place, however, Miss Nathan’s regular expression of glee, often smiling with some wit on her tongue. Her choleric rants. Her general ability to hold court in the room. That is what made her and Rivington work so well. He would work one half of the room and her th either. Yet while James was intentional- Robert thought it was just Arielle’s nature to challenge, twist, debate and laugh.
Instead she appeared late; strange. Her dress plainer than her regular vibrant colours or patterns. No jewellery around her neck. The most telling was the way she sulked around the room. Eyes dark refuting anyone who came near her. Watery and untrusting. Perhaps that was what concerned him, Arielle was as volatile as he was. One minute light hearted next minute serious, melancholic then temperamental. While he was private however; her face was a stage informing everyone of her mood. Robert didnt know how he felt about the twisting in his chest when he caught her eye.
It felt strange not to have a presence by his elbow, peering down at whatever he was working on. It was all very strange indeed.
Yet; Mr Townsend could not go and talk to her. Risk showing the world their closeness. No instead he would have to make inquiries. The hint came when Captain Hennley- he never bothered to catch his first name, scoffed past her and she scowled, teeth bare like a fox disturbed.
Pouring a glass of port, he delicately placed it next to the man.
“Gambling good, sir?”
“Could be better,”
“is that so?”
“Aye, some wolf like bastard bet me out of my money” Robert cringed but continued.
“I hope you found a way to remedy it” He tried to sound neutral, not generally given to inquiries.
“Oh I did- he wanted the girl’s necklace, she has been in a wicked temper ever since, the King doesn’t pay me enough for this”
Over the next couple of days, Arielle felt herself go from bad to worse. It was not the material object of the gif that mattered. It was this idea of not having any grounding of being trapped. She suddenly became more aware of her limits, of her confinements. Of how much she missed her family. The necklace was a symbol.
Who was her ally?
The bustle of officers, actresses and curious traders made for decent observing; they were like headless chickens on the 24th. Arielle failed to take notice of the man behind her. His hand dropped to her shoulder, startling her with a squeak. “Hush now” came Mr Townsend’s voice “Do not startle all of York City.”
Even now, she felt herself chuckling. “Come”. He was gesturing to the cellar. Leaving first; curious Arielle disappeared from the crowd into the back. Two seconds later, he held out his arm. “Where are you escorting me to, Mr Townsend?” “You will see.”
Robert guided her to his room and with the wit she had left she turned “Now this is not very proper”.
“Look what is on the bed.”
There was a small brown paper package wrapped neatly in twine. It was not very thick, and she could tell there was cloth under it. “Am I to open it” “Well it is a gift, I believe that is what you do with them” Too curious to retort Arielle undid the tie and noted underneath one of his handkerchiefs- the one subtly embroidered with white cross-stitch. Unfolding it, she felt something cold. By God, it was impossible.
Sparkling back at her was her necklace.
“It is not a replica; it is the same one...I traced down Captain Hennley’s contact and made some inquiries the man he sold it to is in debt to me for sharing stock so in exchange for settling our debts I got it back” Robert explained, each word gave her this urge to embrace the living daylights out of him and never let go.
“Before you ask why you were far too miserable for this establishment and I could not have it affecting business” “business? What one?” “the one of my mental state.”
So he was concerned about her. She had an ally.
“I suppose it is a Christmas present.”
“Don’t tell any of the other Quakers” Robert cooed with an amused expression.
“Now, let me put that on for you” gently moving her hair out of the way he clasped it around her neck, his breath warm against it. If Arielle could have melted, she would have. Then he knelt down placing an intense, warm kiss to the back of her neck.
The gesture made her think of customs. In Sephardi culture, a groom as a sign of engagement would gift anything of value, a coin, a ring or a necklace. It was a sign of the marriage that he could support them. It was not limited to the Ashkenazi ring or coin. It could be earrings, or it could be the hunting down of the string of pearls around her neck.
“I won’t tell the Quakers if you won’t tell the Jews.”
With a grin, she added “or else we might be engaged.”
Startled, Robert sharply inhaled before laughing “I think I could think of worse things.”
“Run along, go light up the room again.”
Instead of moving, Arielle sprung up and embraced him. Her head in his shoulder, arms tight around him. Robert’s arms were soon around her. A quiet, warm embrace. Murmuring a thank you,  she caught the sight of him.
Robert Townsend was smiling, gentle and unaided.
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