#and so the company's cracking down saying no you have to cover you can't just say you have to prepare for lessons

[corvid-language-library]

Sooooo sometimes when we have no regular classes scheduled we get "office days", which are basically days when we're on call for cover. Most of us use these days to prepare materials for classes but usually we have to stretch it out fill our time and end up spending 1-3 hours twiddling our thumbs with nothing to do.

But we've now received a company-wide email saying office days are not for preparing classes and we should be doing something that "benefits the company or customers". Whatever the fuck that means. I have legit no idea what I'm supposed to be doing if I'm not prepping lessons; I thought that's what office days were for.

My supervisor said he considers us prepping for lessons/making materials "beneficial to the company and customers" because it allows us to deliver better lessons. But I asked him "does studying Japanese count because it means I'll have better interactions with students and parents" and he said yes. So in future I'll no longer have to pretend to be busy for like 3 hours; I can just openly get out my Japanese books and study! :D

[gyuzgrl]

all I need //csc//

summary- ceo!cheol just really fucking misses you, okay?

Glass in hand, you glance at the bottom of your laptop, briefly checking the time.

11:34 pm.

Seungcheol's never been this late before, but you're at ease- courtesy of the barrage of messages and calls he sent earlier this evening. At exactly 4pm, the first notification went off-

'hey sweetheart, work's piling up so I gotta stay back late tonight :('

Within a minute, there was another.

'is that okay? or do you need me home early?'

And then your phone rang, with his assistant calling to inform you that he'd be home late. It makes you feel all gooey and fuzzy inside, how thorough he is when it comes to your feelings. It's clear that you're a priority. Nothing comes before.

After you assured him for the hundredth time that you'd be fine, and that he could take his time saving the company or whatever, he went back to work. Sure, you ate together every evening and watched dating shows and stuff, but one night away from that shouldn't be too hard, should it?

For you, this newfound me-time gave you an opportunity to crack open a bottle of red and start working on your novel- the perfect evening in your eyes, but for Seungcheol?

Time away from you is his own inferno- a circle made especially for him.

Obviously, you miss him too... It goes without saying, seeing how your eyes fleet down to the time ever so often, how your thigh trembles as you rock it up and down, how you nearly jump out of your seat when the doorbell rings.

Grabbing your wine goblet, you dance your way to the door- elegant as a tide, and pull it open for your man.

"hey you," you grin, tilting your head to the side as a fond sparkle lights up your eyes.

Before you can say anything more, Seungcheol steps towards you and pulls your body into his, placing his lips on yours.

It's breathtaking.

His lips suck desperately at yours, trying to take you in as much as he can. Like a man lost in the desert, Seungcheol drinks you in- parched.

He's been starved of you all day, far longer than he'd like, and it's been eating away at him, wearing him down until now.

Letting his lips cradle your lower one, he nips at the tender flesh, sighing when he gets a taste of you after having waited all day.

You gasp against his mouth, holding your glass high to the side, letting your free arm rake through the base of Seungcheol's scalp. The way your nails drag against his skin has him growing weak, and he can feel his patience wearing thin.

In desperate need of air, you pull away, gasping, stuttering.

"hi," Seungcheol whispers, hands finding your waist as he admires you. "missed you."

Beaming wide, your lips find his in a brief peck, and you let your gaze meet his- now scanning over your body, pupils blown wide at how beautiful you look.

Donned in a white satin robe barely long enough to cover your thighs, hair puffed wildly around your face, skin bare and glowing- god, you made it look so easy.

"how w-"

No time for words. Seungcheol shuts you up with another kiss, this time pressing his lips to yours harder than before. A few whines of protest bubble up your throat, but are quickly swallowed up rather greedily as he pushes his tongue into your mouth.

Walking you backwards, he grabs the back of your neck, taking large strides forward that you can't seem to keep up with. Your little backward stumbles are a tad bit too slow for his liking, and in one steady motion, Seungcheol hoists you up, holding your weight on one arm as the other threads through your hair.

A surprised "mmph-!" leaves your lips, and you try your best to keep your wine from spilling all over. One hand held precariously at a 90 degree angle, jutting out over his shoulder, you try to keep your balance, but he makes it so damn hard.

Soon enough, the red liquid begins to slosh around, whirling higher and higher against the walls of your glass, until a tiny splatter escapes it's confines and lands on your exposed wrist.

"baby-" you pant between kisses, wriggling away from his lip-lock, "it'll stain if i don't-"

Seungcheol flicks his gaze from your face to the bead of liquid rolling down your wrist, and licks his lips.

He sets you down on the dinner table- where you were working, originally- and stands between your legs, taking hold of your hand.

"we don't want that, do we?" he muses, taking your glass and setting it aside.

You shake your head, gulping as he lowers his lips to your wrist, licking a delicate stripe up your inner arm- following the path the liquid set. Transfixed, your breaths grow shallow, eyes focused on the deft movements of his tongue.

How the wet muscle peeks out from between his lips, just barely visible, has your head spinning. You can't help but want to feel him somewhere...lower. There's an all too familiar heat pooling between your legs, and you need him to come fix it.

Desire builds within you, swelling to an unbearable crescendo until you can't take it any longer. With a firm tug, you grab his tie, diverting his lips back to yours.

As your lips meet once again, your senses flood with the sharp notes of wine lingering on his tongue. It's sweet and rich, and on his lips?

Oh, it tastes divine.

With one hand on his tie, you slide the other back to Seungcheol's hair, fisting the loose strands just above his neck. The dual stimulation- on his scalp and neck- is just a little too much for him, and he sinks to his knees, feeling each joint buckle under your touch.

"easy-" he warns, voice husky as his throat quivers. "can I ea-"

"yes,"

You interrupt with a breathy plea, and Seungcheol's hands pry your legs apart slowly.

"please tell me you're we- oh my fucking god-"

To his dismay, you're completely bare under your robe. No panties, nothing.

"thank you thank you thank you-" he mutters, and it's unclear whether he's saying it to you or to some higher being. For all you know, to him, you're one and the same. Especially now, with how effortlessly you control him, how you know him, Seungcheol can't help but pedestalize you.

He parts your legs wide, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of your glistening cunt, and he spares you one last glance before closing in. Your jaw falls slack as his tongue makes contact with your folds, licking through them, right up to your clit.

Effortlessly, Seungcheol finds where you're most sensitive, and cradles your nerves with his lips while he prods you with his tongue. He alternates between suctioning and nudging, coaxing your clit out of hiding, and you gasp when his tongue makes direct contact.

"s-shit," you pant, your grip tightening on his hair. The additional pull makes him groan, and you feel the deep rumble of his voice running through your nerves.

Spurred on by the noises you make, Seungcheol quickens his pace, his sights set on your high. He'll do anything to taste you, anything.

As he laps at your cunt- devouring you like a man starved- your legs begin to shake, thighs quivering with the tensing of your muscles. With each flick of his tongue, you feel your stomach tighten further and further until you can't hold back any longer.

The tension in your belly is unbearable, and your lips give way to desperate, helpless moans, loud enough for your neighbors to hear. You don't care, though. You'll deal with them tomorrow.

Right now, all that matters is the two of you, alone in your own universe.

"fuck- m'gonna cum oh my go-" you moan, dragging out the last syllable into a high-pitched whine as your orgasm crashes into you.

Seungcheol grins against your cunt, flicking his tongue up and down, working your through your high. When your thighs begin to close in around him, he holds you open, backing away for a second to let you recover.

"you taste," he pants, "so fucking good"

And with that, his lips find your cunt once again, this time prodding your entrance as he collects your arousal, savoring your taste.

Your legs try to force themselves shut- overstimulation setting in- but they're no match for his brute strength.

After he's certain there's not a drop left to be spared, Seungcheol places a gentle kiss to your clit and rises to his feet.

"did I say I missed you today? 'cause I really fuckin' missed you today"

You smile through shallow breaths, trying to settle your lungs after whatever that was.

"you did?"

"every second of the day. you're all I need."

A gentle blush makes its way up your cheeks, lighting up your skin, and Seungcheol smirks.

"you're on my mind a lot more often than you think, sweetheart" he leans closer, caging you in between his arms.

"when you're at work?"

"especially, when I'm at work."

Leaving words for a later date, Seungcheol scoops you up in his arms, one hand hooked under your knees and the other supporting your back.

"baby!" you squeal, legs fluttering as he walks over to the bedroom.

He sets you down on your duvet, letting the crisp white sheets engulf your body, and crawls over you. Settling on his knees, he brings a hand up to his collar, undoing the top buttons of his shirt, and your eyes grow wide.

No matter how many times you've seen him, the sheer muscle there is to this man will never fail to astonish you. Peeking through his split neckline, the firm outline of his pectorals greet your hungry eyes. It's a slight glimpse- nothing more- but it has an unmistakable desire surging through you.

"want me to take it off?" he teases, fingers halting at the next button.

You nod eagerly and he chuckles, quickly pulling apart his shirt to give you what you want. Before long, the white fabric is tossed aside to some corner of the room, and Seungcheol's body comes into view.

"oh my,"

Every ridge, every contour of his torso is nothing short of perfection. He's spent years crafting his body, and it shows. From his heavy chest to the shocking definition of his abs- he's stunning.

As he moves closer, inching forward with his arms set on either side of your head, you see the way his biceps tense, working to support his weight. They're big too. Big and strong and sturdy- you feel safest in his arms.

Nothing in the world can hurt you here.

"you're so beautiful," he whispers against your lips, placing a gentle kiss there before leaning back to undress you.

Deft fingers work to untie the knot of your robe, pulling it loose in a matter of seconds. Seungcheol flicks his gaze up to yours, asking for permission as he pulls the silk apart, unwrapping you like a present- although he's being careful, you can tell, deep down he's trying not to rip that robe apart.

Prying the fabric off of you, Seungcheol's throat goes dry.

Your body has him in awe. It isn't possible to be this beautiful, he thinks. It really isn't. Your skin glows under the dim lights, hair strewn around your face, eyes glittering so bright they'd put the sun to shame. It's a messy, real kind of beautiful. The kind of beautiful you see when you know you're in love.

And Seungcheol knows now that he is.

"I-" he hesitates, taking in a shaky breath.

You scan his face for any signs of discomfort, brows scrunched as you're met with an overwhelming sense of affection. Affection that you're certain you return.

For a moment it's silent, just you and him staring into each other's eyes, thinking the same thing. The wide expansion of his pupils seems different today, as though lust and desire isn't the cause of their dilation.

It's love. Adoration.

"I-" he starts again, but the words stick like velcro to the back of his throat, and you run a hand along his chest soothingly.

"me too"

Seungcheol gulps, shivering under your touch, and leans in, pressing a longing kiss to your parched lips.

It starts of slow and gentle, mapping out the motions of your mouth, and then it shifts. He pushes harder, the kiss growing intense, as if he's trying to show you his feelings. Desperately, feverishly, you pant into each other's mouths, locking lips in a way you haven't before.

"I love you-" he breathes, speaking the words against your puffy lips. "i love you, y/n"

Tears prick your eyes, the intensity of the moment weighing down on you, and you can't help the whimper that slips past your lips.

"Seungcheol-"

"I know, sweetheart"

"Seung-"

He cuts you off, kissing you deep, before making his way down your body, until he's at your feet. In a flash, his pants are off, leaving him in his boxers, and he takes hold of your ankle.

"what are y-"

"shh, just- just let me take care of you, okay?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle, "lemme make you feel good"

You gasp when his lips make contact with your skin. Somehow, this feels more intimate than anything you've done before.

Seungcheol peppers soft kisses up your leg, earning pleased jolts and squirms in return. With each sound you make, each quiver of you body, the corners of his lips twist up into a satisfied, knowing smirk.

Reaching your thighs, he presses a teasing kiss to your throbbing clit, pushing a little harder to make you jolt the way he likes.

"oh-"

Your lips part, giving way to a loud gasp as your hips jerk upwards, and Seungcheol's smirk widens.

"still sensitive, sweetheart?" he asks, painting on a worried, innocent pout.

You know damn well he did that on purpose. There's no hiding that.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you huff, half-pleased that he knows your body better than you do.

Seungcheol marches forward, determined general that he is, and kisses his way past your legs and over your torso, moving slowly as he goes along.

Desperate, you feel your clit throb uncontrollably despite just having cum mere minutes ago, and you squirm under him, eyes bearing into his, pleading silently.

"stay still," he mutters, preoccupied with your skin. "wanna take my time with you"

Your heart flutters at his words. A gentle smile creeps up your face- one you can't seem to contain- and he pouts, pausing at your collarbone.

"what?"

"nothing," you smile.

Seungcheol grins back, resuming his work on your chest, working his way up. The boyish smile turns into an evil smirk when he reaches the crook of your neck, right where you're most sensitive.

Most responsive.

He nips at the tender skin, placing his lips firm against your neck as you shiver under him. A loud, pleased sigh leaves your parted lips, and you tilt your head to the side, offering him further access to you.

It's adorable- to Seungcheol, at least- how easily you give in to him. The way you get so desperate for his touch, so eager for more, has him feeling like he's on top of the world.

"cute." he mumbles, the low tinge of his voice resonating right below your ear. It sends a trail of goosebumps scattering over your shoulder, prickling your delicate skin.

Seungcheol finds his way back to your lips, placing a gentle, loving kiss there, and draws back, stepping off the mattress momentarily to push off his boxers.

You marvel at his naked figure, staring shamelessly at his skin like you've never seen a cock before. Although, to be fair, you've never seen one like his.

Long and thick and veiny- god, he's like a dream come true. Earlier on in the relationship, when you'd first slept together, you couldn't even get all of it in without bursting into tears. The thought excites you now- being split open by him until you're sobbing on his dick.

He shakes his head, chuckling at your wide-eyed adoration as he settles back onto the duvet, shuffling up until his back hits the headboard.

Wordlessly, he beckons you over with a quirk of his fingers, and you scramble onto his lap instantly.

"you know what to do, don't you, baby?" His voice is low and rough, sending shivers running along your spine. You nod, aligning yourself over his cock, sucking in a shaky breath when the head nudges at your entrance.

"fuck-" he drawls as you sink down on him, squeezing so tight it almost hurts. No matter how many times he's drilled into you before, the initial stretch is always deliciously painful.

Your jaw falls slack, shoulders tensing as you feel him split you open. Shaky, clenched fists loop over his neck, forcing his head forward, right in front you.

As you sink further, you breathe out trembling exhales, moaning softly into his mouth, while he does the same. With each notch you move lower, Seungcheol's hips strain harder and harder to keep still.

He knows he can hurt you. He knows you need time to adjust to his size.

"y/n," he breathes, gritting his teeth as he forces himself to hold still, "baby I can't- oh fuck-" Seungcheol breaks out into a loud groan when you sink down completely, thighs landing flush against his.

Your eyes shoot open, brows set in a deep scrunch, and you meet his stare- heavy and intense. It's as if he's pushed the air out of your lungs, and your voice has gone somewhere with it.

"breathe," he soothes, moving his hands to hold your thighs, "you gotta breathe, baby"

You suck in a trembling breath, and he holds you up, pulling you off his cock just a little.

"there we go, that's it sweetheart,"

When your breathing returns to normal, Seungcheol pushes into you, lifting his hips while he lowers you back onto his girth. A helpless cry leaves your lips and you clutch onto his shoulders, tears pooling in your eyes.

He sets his pace, starting off slow, pushing into you gently to get you used to his size, before things take a rougher, more forceful turn. Once he sees that you're well accommodated, Seungcheol thrusts up into you, hitting all the right spots in an instant. You moan, digging your nails into his skin, and he hisses, shoving himself harder into you.

"Seungcheol oh my g-"

Your walls spasm around him as he thrusts into you, moving at a brutal pace, shoving his heavy cock into you with force enough to break the bed frame. His biceps contract as he lifts you, holding you up while he slams his hips against yours.

It's honestly shocking how strong he is.

With each thrust, you feel your body tense up, and that familiar, sought-after knot begins to form deep within your tummy. You clench down around him, and he chokes out a guttural- "oh fuck"- through gritted teeth.

Taking on the challenge, Seungcheol tugs you down onto his length, all while his hips increase their pace, and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You see stars.

"Seungcheol- please- oh my fucking god," you cry out, voice shaking pathetically with the impact of his thrusts.

He uses you like a toy, lifting you on and off his dick like you weigh nothing to him, controlling your body as you sit helpless against his strength.

The veins of his cock drag against your walls, carving their shape into you ruthlessly, and you can't help but take it.

Take everything he gives you.

"that's it, sweetheart-" he grits, "so fucking good for me"

His praise only adds to your arousal, and you feel yourself on the verge of pleasure, almost about to let it all go. Through heavy, merciless thrusts, a hand leaves your thigh to flick at your clit, and you let out a shrill, surprised cry, as your body falls victim to an electrifying orgasm.

You let out a sob, calling his name while tears spill over your cheeks. Seungcheol silences you with a kiss, licking into your mouth, bullying his way inside. His hips continue their movements, thrusting up into your poor, abused cunt to chase his own high, and soon after, he follows suit.

Blowing his load deep inside your hole, Seungcheol moans against your lips, and you gasp, feeling fuller than before.

"take me so well," he pants, "you're fuckin' perfect for me"

Drained, you nod weakly, the burn of your thighs finally catching up to you. He smiles sheepishly, lifting you off himself and placing you back on your duvet.

A thick, creamy mixture spills out of you, and Seungcheol gulps as he watches. The view before him is more than tempting, and he feels the blood rush back to his cock, but he knows better.

You're already spent.

"you did so good, baby," he smiles, dismissing his thoughts, kissing your forehead, "I'll run us a bath, hm?"

It's cute, honestly, how caring he is. Even cuter that he thinks he can just get away with it.

You shoot him a sly, coy smile-

"I thought you missed me"

[woso-dreamzzz]

Big Bed IV

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Sometimes you just need the Big Bed

It was a rough game.

Against a team like France, the games are always tough. They're ranked so highly and they play so skilfully and they run circles around most teams.

Their shots come in rapid fire, one after the other and it's like they're playing with multiple balls because the pressure keeps piling up and up and up.

A corner is where it all goes wrong for you.

One of your midfielders conceded it, a young girl that you're pretty sure plays for Häcken who had to kick the ball out after your defence was caught off guard.

France swing it in.

You can't get a good grip on it, not with all the jostling and pushing in your box but you manage to punch it away.

There's a leg already up though, a dangerously high leg with a knee that cracks into your eye.

The pain is instantaneous and you groan.

Your eyes swells shut quickly. You can already tell a bruise is forming.

It's a straight red card.

No leg should be high enough that the knee is what connects with someone. There should be no high legs regardless but the fact that it's the knee that hits you instead of the foot is pretty dangerous play and the player gets sent off.

You get taken off too. You can barely see out of your other eye. You're no use to the team right now.

You give the armband over to your vice-captain and follow the medics out to get treatment.

You don't have a concussion which is good but you have to sit there with an icepack on your face to make the swelling go down.

"You look rough," Magda says, tilting your head to one side when you come home that night.

This was the last match of your Euro Qualifiers and, honestly, it hadn't really meant much.

Sweden were already through so it's not like your absence from today's match was make or break for the team.

It's nice to be home though even if you still feel a bit unsettled.

You don't know if it's because of your eye or just plain exhaustion but you feel a little out of your skin, like you're sitting at the dinner table but not at the same time.

You're hyper-aware of every part of your body and your stomach swirls uneasily.

But you can push that feeling away, at least for a little while. At least while you eat with your mothers.

It's a good time, mostly. Good food. Good conversation. Good company.

You think you've made yourself feel better, pushing away this fleeting feeling of anxiousness.

It comes back though, like it always does. It creeps up on you like a phantom, waiting until you're alone to pounce.

You stare up at your ceiling.

It's dark out and, even though you took some painkillers, you can swear that you feel your eye throb.

You toss and turn for what feels like hours, unable to settle yourself.

The last time you felt like this, you were at home with Talia. She'd held you and whispered sweet nothings in your ear, a supportive body against yours as you both waited for the feeling to fade.

You feel dangerously unmoored, like you're a boat that's been pushed out to sea with no sails and no oars. You just drift into the darkness as your stomach swirls uneasily.

You sigh, pulling yourself from bed and shoving down the covers.

It's a short walk across the hall to your mothers but your hand freezes on the door handle, suddenly worried that they'll kick you out for doing this.

Your hand hovers, clenching and unclenching around the smooth metal before you close your eyes, resting your head on the door.

You push the door open, slipping inside.

It creaks slightly and Pernille rolls over in bed, voice still rough with sleep.

"Princesse? Is that you?"

"Yes."

"Is something wrong?"

"I..er...I mean no but..." You sigh. "I don't know. Can I sleep in here tonight?"

Even in her sleep addled mind, Pernille can't make much sense of why. "In here?"

"I can sleep on the floor," You say quickly," I just...I don't know. Can I?"

"Don't be stupid," Magda says, awoken by the noise and blunt as ever," You're not sleeping on the floor." She pats the spot between her and Pernille. "Get in."

"Are you sure?"

"Get in. The bed's big enough for all of us."

"I feel like a kid again."

"You are a kid. You're our kid. Get in bed."

It's the best sleep you've had in weeks.

[merakiui]

angels in tibet.

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, obsession, abo/omegaverse (alpha azul & omega reader), knotting, brief implications of breeding, mirror sex, sugar daddy, age gap (azul is 50 and reader is 24) note - while experiencing a nasty bout of low self-esteem, you fear azul has lost interest in you. on the contrary, he can't get enough.

I’m not sure about this…

You fidget in front of the horizontal mirror, tugging at the sheer material of your violet babydoll. It’s a beautiful piece, matched with a pair of dainty, crotchless panties, but there’s something about it that doesn’t fit right. Will this make you more irresistible? Were you irresistible to begin with? Maybe you’re worrying over nothing. Azul is a very handsome alpha, looking as affluent as he sounds and smells. It’s natural he would receive all kinds of compliments. Having attended dozens of dinner dates with him throughout the year, you’ve grown accustomed to the occasional interruption—an omega overwhelmed with his presence or an alpha hoping to gain another wealthy connection.

Compared to the exquisite company he keeps, you feel worthless—a speck of nothing versus a brilliant something.

A gentle knock at the door shakes you from your self-conscious spiraling. You pat yourself down to give your anxious hands a mindless task.

“J-Just a moment!”

“Is everything all right?”

You glance at yourself in the mirror once more. “Yes, I’m fine! I’ll be out in a second.”

“There’s no rush. Take your time.”

Steeling your nerves, you swallow razored insecurities and reach for the knob.

Stop thinking about it. Lots of omegas approach him all the time. It’s the same for alphas and betas. Sometimes they approach me, too. You crack the door open and nervously step out into the bedroom. But he looked so happy when that one omega was talking to him…

Azul’s cerulean hues snap up to view you from where he lounges on the end of bed loveseat. His stare trails up the length of your legs, assessing every inch of you as if you’re a rare gemstone and he’s a skillful lapidary. You cover the distance to reach him, suddenly shy.

He runs his hands up your arms once you’re within reach. “I was right to assume that set would look stunning on you.”

“You’re always right,” you say with a superficial giggle, admiring his dusky eyeshadow behind the lenses of his glasses. You swipe his hair aside and lean down to press a kiss to his forehead. “It’s nice. Thank you for the gift.”

Azul hums his acknowledgment. His hands crawl along your sides, grabbing at your hips. You allow yourself to be pulled down to his height, his thigh between your legs. Your bare pussy brushes against beige trousers, and it sends a pleasant shiver up your spine. His fingers dance across skin, searing in the same way his lips are when they ghost over the juncture between shoulder and neck. He licks and nips at the area for a moment before withdrawing slightly, his tongue free of the bitter, medicinal taste of suppressant gel.

“No blockers?”

“It’s fine. I’m with you, and my heat isn’t scheduled for another week.”

“What makes you think I won’t give into libertine impulse?”

At the sly implication that he’d mark you as his, you feel a fresh bout of slick pool between your legs, leaking out onto his thigh and wetting fine fabric. Azul notices this and chuckles.

“Y-You wouldn’t,” you manage through your embarrassment, shifting awkwardly.

“Is that right?”

“You probably want a better omega o-or a strong alpha. Someone like yourself.”

Azul, who had contented himself at your neck, pulls back to look at you. His hands settle upon your waist to hold you still—to prevent you from wriggling away.

“What makes you say that?”

“Nothing… I just assumed—well, you’re…you. I’m me.”

He frowns, easily reading between the lines. “Do you find yourself undesirable?”

“You’re popular. Rich. Good-looking… You could have anyone you want.”

“Variety means nothing if it doesn’t include my favorites.”

“I’m your favorite?”

“Such disbelief… Is it really so surreal?”

“But I’m nowhere near your level.”

“Who said you had to be?” Azul takes your hand and brings it to his lips. He kisses the top of it. “You’re perfect as you are, mio tesoro.”

You spend a long minute watching him. He can’t really mean that. Azul isn’t your boyfriend or your alpha. He’s the parody of one—a sugar daddy who spoils you with luxurious trips and hefty allowances, and in return you offer your time, companionship, and body. Tonight is no different. Just another dinner as per the arrangement. Another night spent in a high-rise hotel. Another transaction.

“You don’t mean that,” you say, ice crystallizing each word. “You’re just saying that.”

“I have no reason to lie.” He glances past you at the tall floor mirror, an idea sparking in lust-lidded eyes. “I’ll prove it.”

His intentions are lost on you, even more so when he moves you off of his leg and onto the cushions below. You sit with your back against the bed, a concoction of curiosity and caution bubbling within you. You can smell him, crisp like a new car, the musky, unforgettable scent of salt and sage. Before you can ask, he lowers to his knees and parts your legs to get a look at your dripping pussy.

“So eager…” he muses, his breath fanning across your folds. You bite back a whine. “And it’s all for me.”

“All yours. Always yours.”

Another wave of alpha arousal blankets the room, thick like smoke. You realize he’s done away with his scent blockers for tonight. Could that explain your territorial jealousy and dampened mood? Is it because it’s bothersome to think that another omega expressed so much desire towards Azul—that they were treated to his enticing smell even though it’s a luxury often reserved for you? Is it really his money you’re after or something grander?

You want to think it’s the former.

It must be, right? There’s no way it could be the latter. You’re just caught between fantasy and reality, bordering a beautiful illusion garnished with the impossible. 

Azul’s fingers dig into the soft pudge of your inner thighs, spreading them further despite your weak attempt to shut them. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“Don’t hide from me, principessa. It’s nothing I haven’t seen already.”

“Still…” You flinch when he presses the pads of his fingers against your slit.

“What’s the matter?” He lifts his hand for you to see. Your slick clings to his digits in dewy strands. “You’re so wet for me, and yet you seem…distracted.”

“It’s nothing. I’m thinking.”

“About?” When you refuse to answer, he leans in to lick a languid stripe up your cunt. You slacken against the bed, a gasp rattling through your lungs. Azul makes a dramatic show of licking his lips clean. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me, bambolina.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, worrying your lip between your teeth, as you debate your next admission. Rather than say it outright, you tiptoe around it with a shaky mumbling: “D-Do you usually call other omegas by pretty names?”

“Just you.”

“Just me?”

“Have I not been unfalteringly faithful to you all this time?”

“You have. I’m just wondering…”

Azul waits for you to finish that sentence. When it becomes obvious you’ve lost it, he fills in the blanks. “I thought of you all throughout tonight’s dinner. So much it nearly spoiled my appetite.”

Unconvinced, you crack your eyes open to glimpse him. His head is between your legs, lips centimeters from your cunt, and it leaves you wilting once more. He looks good on his knees in his fancy suit. You wish he was yours.

What a dangerous wish.

Azul meets your stare. He removes his glasses and hands them off to you. 

“Be a dear and hold these for me.”

“Looks like a new pair.”

“I thought I’d try circular frames again. What do you think? Fitting, no?”

“Very fitting. Like an old man.”

Azul’s grip on your thighs tightens ever so slightly. His voice comes out sharp and strained when he speaks next. “Is that so? I assure you I’m still plenty youthful.”

“You age like wine, Mr. Ashengrotto. The finest kind.”

“And your beauty is timeless.”

“You say it so easily, but do you mean it?”

“Most ardently.”

Your argument is stifled when he leans in to taste you again. This time, rather than retreat, he remains between your legs. His lips are warm and soft against your pussy, his tongue all too tempting as it trails over the area. A startled gasp slips past parted lips when he pushes in, and it isn’t long until you’re deflating against the bed. 

Your doubtful thoughts are temporarily silenced, numbed with slow, slothful salacity. You grab fistfuls of his hair, tugging it tousled, and he groans in response to your harsh treatment.

“Ooh… Mmh, fuck…” You blink up at the ceiling, breathless.

Too good.

You push him closer to your crotch, to which he rewards you with a sloppy slurp of your slick. The obscenity of it all has you hot and aching, and you submit bonelessly to the bliss he provides as if you’re simply drifting down a calm river. Azul laps at your folds like a man parched. He hums his appreciative delight, each vibration shaking you to your core, and the sensations only serve to triple your pleasure when one of his hands slides over to find your clit. He tweaks it between two fingers just to listen to you come undone.

It takes everything in you not to crush him between your thighs. Although with how hungrily he fucks you with his tongue, you think he might enjoy the suffocation. He sets a sweet pace, one that has you grinding down against his mouth in a desperate attempt to reach your climax. You open your mouth to beg for more, but all that tumbles free are shaky gasps and low groans.

As if sensing your unspoken need, Azul draws his tongue out. A thin strand of saliva strings from your pussy and his lips, connecting both for a fraction. Just when you think he might’ve finished, he swaps his tongue for two fingers. They stretch you open while he nurses on your clit. Slowly, like he has all the time in the world in this opulent hotel room, he curls his slim digits inside you. They press against your walls, searching for the spongy spot that will have you seeing galaxies. Once more, you’re reduced to a foggy-headed mess.

In this room, where nothing else matters, it’s just you and him. There is no outside world. No other alphas, omegas, or betas who might distract him. No other factors that might convince him to toss you aside, to grow tired of you, to abandon you…

Azul takes full advantage of your woozy state, pumping his fingers in and out. Paired with the way he lavishes your clit with attention, it sends you spiraling into a sudden orgasm. You grip his hair forcefully, pin him in place, and gush on his face with a strangled moan. He stays between your legs to lick you through it, running his tongue across your folds to gather as much of your slick as possible. And then he’s pulling away to offer you a boyish grin, seeming quite proud of himself. It adds deceptive youth to his weathered features.

Blinking pleasured tears away, you gaze at him until his figure gradually gains clarity. His face is wet, glistening with your essence, and it fills you with newfound heat.

“That was quicker than I expected,” he says, his voice a playful purr. “Were you anticipating this? Or perhaps my technique is simply unmatched. You’ve always been so sensitive for—”

You move without forethought, grabbing at the jewel-encrusted lapels of his fashionable jacket to yank him up to your height. His blue eyes are blown wide, his mouth parted in the middle of a mute question, when you smash your mouth against his. It’s short and sloppy. You taste yourself on his tongue.

“So impatient…”

Recovering from the momentary startle with newfound cupidity, Azul surges forward for a real kiss. You breathe him in and come away with a noseful of pheromones. It spins your mind dizzy, banishes rationality to dark, desolate corners, and renders you addicted. You allow him to lick into your mouth to taste expensive wine in every crevice. You’re avaricious in your approach when you pull him closer, desiring to feel his weight against yours. He falls on top of you, his hands placed on either side of your head to keep himself propped, and you peer up at him through glazed eyes. It brings you smug satisfaction when you reach between your bodies to feel his erection straining against his pants.

Breathing hot and heavy, you scrabble to grab hold of his shoulders. “Kiss me again.”

“Aren’t you forward? If I didn’t know any better, I’d hazard a guess that you’re jealous.”

“I—” you clamp your mouth shut, debating your words, before opening it again— “I am. I want you all to myself. I want you to look at me and only me during our dinners. I hate when other omegas talk to you… It’s not fair. Why do you have to be so amazing?”

Your confession catches him off guard, for he blinks at you owlishly. The surprise doesn’t remain for long, though, because he quickly composes himself. A gentle smile graces his face next.

“It’s mere courtesy. I assure you I’ve thought of you the entire evening.”

“Just me?”

“Only you. At every hour of the day. Even when we’re apart.” His hand slides down to interlace with yours, and he leans closer to kiss both of your cheeks, one at a time. “I think of nothing else. Si il mio universo.”

“R-Really? So that… That omega who spoke to you—”

“They were kind, but I have no interest.”

You frown, suddenly perturbed. “But you could’ve if you wanted to. We’re not together in that way. There’s nothing stopping you.”

He raises a brow. “Is that what you want?” Your face falls further into dismay and he chuckles. “I don’t mind. You’re allowed to be greedy around me. I’m all yours tonight.”

But I want you forever.

Azul helps you up from the bed and leads you over to the mirror. You stare at yourself—at the you adorned in fleeting finery—and grimace. Is this really you? Is this who you want to be, an unclaimed omega stuck in a stagnant situationship?

“Tell me what you see,” he whispers, running his hands along your sides.

“Myself.”

“Anything else?”

“She’s a fool who’s jealous for no reason. For a dumb reason, actually.”

“‘Dumb’?” He scoffs. “No such thing.”

“But it is! It’s because—” I want to be yours. “I’m just being immature. I’m sorry. It’s ruining the mood.”

“Not at all.” Azul grasps your chin and turns your head towards the mirror. “When I look at you, I see in color. You make my world so indescribably vivid. Very few can accomplish such an impressive feat. You should be proud.”

“Why?”

“You’re a smart girl. I’d have thought you would’ve realized it by now.”

You track his hand like it’s a spider you’re hellbent on catching. Carefully, with keen intent. He speaks in honey-coated hauteur, as if anyone could’ve deciphered the meaning in his declarations, and it would’ve irked you if not for your distracting thoughts. 

He’s never told me any of this before. Is he saying it to placate me? Or does he actually mean it?

The answer is right there. You just don’t want to believe it.

Rather, you can’t. It’s impossible. 

“For the record, I disagree with all of this negative self-talk. You’re not dumb or immature. Not in my eyes.” His arms close around you from behind, and he laces his hands together at your front. “You are a goddess cut from the rarest cloth. A beauty brighter than light itself, mia stellina. Sometimes I wonder if I should lock you in a little cage. That way you’d shine for me. Just me.”

Laughter squeezes through your teeth. “You’re being more dramatic than I am tonight.”

“You think so? I’m only telling you what I see and how I see it.” Azul takes your hand and guides you back towards the loveseat. He lowers onto it and then tugs you onto his lap. Just like before, he directs your attention ahead. “Why should I covet others when you’re right here?”

“That’s just convenient. It’s because we’re using each other.”

“How cold… And I have been nothing but authentic in my adoration.”

“Yeah, right. We both know—” You squeak when he shifts you only slightly so that he can unbuckle his leather belt. It slides away from his waist, soon discarded on the bed. “Sure, it’s authentic, but that’s because it has to be. B-Because it’s part of our deal.”

“Is that what you think? Your oblivious nature is most endearing.” He hums, half-listening. You roll your eyes at that, to which Azul tuts. “We’ll have none of that. Here. Since you’re so keen to argue, why not help me out of my jacket as you mull over your next retort?”

Unamused, you turn to face him. He looks awfully pleased with himself as he stretches his arms out. Not wanting to keep him waiting any longer, you undo the single button and gently peel the coat away from his person. It’s so silky, crafted from a material you’ve never known before, and you take care folding it for later. Azul watches you with a smile.

“I’m not arguing.”

“Is that not what we’re doing right now?”

“I’m just saying…” You huff, your cheeks puffed out in annoyance. “Ugh. You’re being so obtuse.”

“Why don’t you turn around and say that to your reflection instead? She needs to hear it more than I do.”

Begrudgingly, you comply with the first instruction. You lift yourself off of him just enough so that he can pull himself from his clothes. As for that second part, you treat it like a suggestion and keep your lips clamped stubbornly shut. Azul rumbles with laughter, affectionately pinching your cheek. You think he may have picked the habit up from his family. He’s spoken about them scarcely, but from what you’ve learned both his mother and grandmother have always had a knack for physical fondness. It’s cute that this gesture seems to run in his blood.

“Eyes open and ahead, mia bella ragazza. You deserve to witness just how charming you are as you come undone around my cock.”

Nodding mutely, your arousal heady, you line yourself up until the head of his cock is kissing your pussy. One hand holds your waist to steady you while the other presses against your clit. You whine, legs trembling in anticipation, and lower yourself slowly.

“A-Azul—”

“Don’t look anywhere else. Ahead, tesoro,” he reminds you, kissing along your jaw. He reaches to procure his glasses from the bed, fitting them on his face one-handed.

Your body responds to those pleasant pet names without a shred of shame. Even though this isn’t your first time with him, you can’t stop your breath from hitching or your heart from skipping. For the sake of an easily ingested excuse, you deign to blame it on your upcoming heat. Why else would you be this desperate to feel him inside, as close as he can possibly get pressed up against you like this? Azul’s hand slides over your thigh to rub at your clit, and your walls flutter around every inch you’ve managed to take thus far.

You remember you’re meant to be watching yourself in the mirror then, so you gaze at your reflection. Azul’s voice is deep and gravelly in your ear, thrumming like thunder, when he murmurs his praise: “Good girl. Just like that.”

As if to further humiliate you, a testament to just how carnally you crave him, you clench tighter around him and whine pitifully. He chuckles and rewards you with a soothing smooch to your cheek. You heave a satisfied sigh once he’s slotted inside.

“Why do you want me to watch myself?” you ask, fighting through the haze while he busies himself with your clit. “Mmh…” 

At this rate, you fear you might just somersault into your heat. Which, now that you’re considering it, wouldn’t be such a bad thing… Maybe he’ll give you a claiming bite, mark you as his omega, and then it’ll be a real relationship. Maybe the heat is the push he needs.

Don’t think about that sort of nonsense. He would never…

“I want you to take in every part of yourself,” he explains matter-of-factly, “and know that I will never trade you for anything.”

“But other omegas—” The words are choked off in a yelp when he thrusts up inside you. 

“Are not you,” he finishes, a minacious edge in his tone. “What must I do to prove to you that I’m telling the truth?”

“You could—ah. Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m being unreasonable.” You shake your head. “Just… Just promise me. Please promise you won’t get rid of me.”

“Why, I would never! The mere assumption that I would stings… I feel as if I’ve just been slapped.”

“I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just… I… I know you’re allowed to see other people—and I am, too, of course—but I like being the only omega you spoil. I like feeling special.”

“And you are.” He squeezes your clit to draw another reedy moan from you. His other hand crawls up your side to slip under your sheer babydoll. He cradles your breast, kneading it gently. “You’re my special girl. That will never change.”

“O-Okay… I believe you.” Your lashes flutter when his fingers brush against your nipple. “You… Ooh… You can cum inside tonight. It’s safe. I think…”

A shadow passes over his face. As if your words have stoked some sort of possessive fire in him, he slips his hand out from under your lingerie to grab at your hip. All of his previous smooth, sultry edges harden into something rough. Fingernails dig into your flesh, leaving little half-moons in the forceful wake of his grip. Your tongue trips over itself at the sudden shift, but the treatment isn’t terrible.

“You know very well I’d take good care of you if that happened,” he mumbles, kissing the space just below your ear.

“If what happened?” you ask, playing stupidly innocent even though the image reflected back at you makes his implication more than obvious.

“Why don’t you start moving first? Then you’ll see exactly what I mean.”

You shudder, drunk off his pheromones, so potent they cloud your brain like smog, and shift in his lap. He groans lowly at the friction and it encourages you to move with confidence. You lower yourself, lift yourself halfway off, and then lower again. This is executed for three more jerky rotations before you slam yourself down in one go. Azul sucks in a breath. You don’t quite catch what he says. It’s a jumble of words in his native tongue. With the harshness dripping from every syllable, you think he’s saying some colorful words, each one brought on by the tight hold your pussy has on his cock.

“Perfect,” he manages next. You continue to bounce with reckless abandon. “You’re so—oh—so perfect. Ho bisogno di te… B-Bisogno—ah, no, need.”

You watch yourself, your ravenous gaze flicking from your pussy stretched around his cock to his hands glued to your hips to his head bowed near your neck. His canines are so close. Any closer and he could tear into you, bite you hard and deep enough to make you his.

“W-What was that phrase you taught me? The one about—haa—love… Not love, but sorta love.”

“Mmh… Which one? There are many, principessa… You’ll have to be more specific. Ti amo is ‘I love you,’ but that’s—nngh—not the one you’re looking for, is it?”

“The not-quite-love one… Um—oh! Adore… Adoro…”

“Aah, ti adoro.” He pronounces it in a pleased hum before breaking off with another groan. He drags your hips down to meet his when he bucks up into your gummy pussy. “If you’re saying it platonically, you would use ti voglio bene. Ti adoro is more intimate.”

“It sounds pretty when you say it.”

“Of course it does,” he brags, his ego satiated. “Why don’t you try pronouncing it?”

“Which one?”

“Whichever.” Azul kisses your scent glands and you mewl, your thoughts soupy and incoherent. “With such a tempting smell, I’m baffled you’re not yet mated. Ah, but you’re still young.”

“Hmm… Yeah, I just haven’t found the right person.” You place your hands over his. “W-What about you? Why haven’t you—”

He tuts. “Now, now. Before we get into that, I’d like to hear you say it. Ti…”

“Adoro. Ti adoro!”

“That’s right. Ben fatto, mia cara. You say it so sweetly.”

“I do?”

“Mhm.” He noses at your neck and sighs. “Sweet and musical.”

Relishing in the compliment, you tilt your head to reveal more of your throat. You roll your hips slowly, taking him in patient strokes. “I still think it sounds better coming from you.”

“Perhaps I should say it more often.”

“Please. Oh, please do. I wanna hear it always—every day!”

His teeth scrape your skin then. You brace yourself for a bite that never comes. Rather than allow your unmet expectations to dishearten you, you focus your attention ahead.

“I’ll send you a voice message when we’re apart.” His hands travel up your body, beneath lacy lingerie, and finally close around your tits. You watch him in the mirror, following his movements as he shamelessly fondles and gropes. “And when we’re together like this I’ll say it over and over. As many times as you’d like.”

Now it’s clear. He’s placed you on his own pedestal, admiring you like one might a sculpture. You aren’t the omega from dinner. You aren’t those alphas who hunger for his status. You’re unlike any of his other connections. You’re a personal treat he indulges in, a prized portrait he’s free to touch at his own discretion, and you allow it because he’s unofficially yours behind closed doors.

Part of you knew this all along. You just couldn’t see through your self-doubt.

“Thank you. I love—” You catch yourself, stumble over a gasp, and thank the stars for that. “I love your voice.”

Azul’s aged features soften with a smile. “And I love yours all the same. Why don’t you touch yourself so that I can hear more of it?”

You do just that, obediently circling your clit with two fingers. Amidst your own sounds, Azul’s groans, and the loud smack of skin on skin, it’s enough to bring you even closer to the edge. You’re almost there, nearly teetering over into the abyss, but then you stop.

“Wait… I want—wanna look at you.”

“You are. The mirror—”

“Not enough.”

Wordlessly, you peel his hands away and lift yourself off of him. Azul stares at you, awaiting your next move. Before you can regret your spontaneity, you hold onto his shoulders and position yourself to straddle him on the loveseat. 

“I read about this and wanted to try it,” you admit as you sink down. Your relieved sigh joins Azul’s in unison. “I like looking at you. The real you. Not just your reflection.”

“You never cease to amaze me.”

“It’s good, isn’t it?”

“Very.”

With this proximity, you’re free to gaze into his powdery blues, trace every wrinkle beneath your fingers, adore him so intimately. Azul presses his forehead to yours, meeting your sultry stare. He wraps his arms around your waist, his palms settling against your lower back. No words are exchanged, but the intention is clear. You rock your body like the rolling tide, effortless and hypnotic, and he matches your lazy pace with grace. Now you’re breathing together—soft huffs between moans—and it’s a lustful duet that pairs well with the salacious squelch of your bodies.

Even though this moment will inevitably end, you never want to leave. You want to stay wrapped up with him, pressed close and breathing him in like he’s perfume. You want to bathe in his scent until it mixes with yours and marks you as something special. Something irrefutable. A bond that can never be broken.

“I wanna go on a trip,” you mumble absentmindedly, your mouth inches from his.

He steals a quick peck. “Do elaborate.”

“Not just any trip. A honeymoon—like a pretend honeymoon! I know it’s a lot to ask—”

“Nothing is ever too much. If I may, why a honeymoon in particular?”

“I just wanna know what it feels like.” You melt against him, your arms sliding away from his shoulders to loop around his neck. “Without having to go through the marriage part. That involves actually finding someone and falling in love and…yeah.”

“I understand. We can plan something.” Twin sapphires flick from your lips to your eyes and then back. “Shall I make you Signora Ashengrotto for the duration of our faux honeymoon?”

Your hips almost stutter to a halt, and you blink back at him in surprise. “Signora… Wouldn’t it be signorina?”

“If you were unmarried, yes. It applies because you’re young.” He flashes his teeth at you in a proud grin. “But in this scenario you’re all mine, Mrs. Ashengrotto. Thus, you’re signora.”

“Mmh… I like that. The sound of it…”

You sigh dreamily and close what little distance is left. Softly like swaying seagrass, it’s a meeting of mutual moods—of lust embellished with love. The two of you kiss like you’re starved, like you’re each other’s only source of oxygen, like this is your last night together. You’re in the clouds; euphoria is at your fingertips. Every drag of his cock coaxes you closer and closer to your climax, your body alight with a fiery urge. You don’t want to break this sinful spell and face a reality in which he isn’t yours. It’s too cruel.

So it’s a shame when he pulls you down without warning and, rather than bite your neck, sinks his pointed canines into your shoulder instead. You would’ve been content to let him claim you, but that idea is soon knocked from your skull when you feel warm, thick cum flood your walls. You snuff the urge to beg for more, dangerously avaricious. You’re sure that’s just a product of your encroaching heat. The normal, level-headed you wouldn’t dare beg him for a baby. 

But a baby would give him a reason to keep you around, wouldn’t it?

I shouldn’t. He probably doesn’t want a family at his age… It would be wrong to force it.

Azul pulls away only slightly to speak. His attempt is muffled when you kiss him again. You lick your blood from his lower lip. It’s strong and metallic, staining the corner of his mouth a deep vermillion. He pursues, nibbling at your lip in return. And then, just as you roll your hips once more, you feel it—his knot swelling against your ass, fat and thick. All for you.

“I’m going to—”

“Yes! Oh, please—yes.” You shift in his lap, grinding down with a desperate sort of determination. “Please knot me. I want it. I’ve always wanted it.”

“Always?”

Your head bobs in a hasty nod. It was more of a private fantasy—a mental indulgence you delighted in during dreams. And now it’s happening. You’re so happy you could cry. Azul, upon seeing the light in your eyes, bucks up towards you in a sharp, sudden thrust. You suck in a breath through grit teeth and bore down. The push is heavenly and hellish all at once, a delicious pleasure-pained strain as your slick walls stretch to accommodate him.

“Almost… You’re doing well, tesoro,” he grunts, his brows pinched together with concentration and exertion.

To provide you with an extra shred of help, he massages your clit. And that’s all it takes. The rest of his knot pops inside, now connecting the both of you, and it leaves you feeling much fuller than you were before. Ecstasy crashes into you like a tumultuous wave, pulling you into a rushing current. It seems to happen in a flash. Collapsing against him, you dig your nails into his shoulders, your cunt clenching like a vise, and cum around his cock with a bawdy cry.

You don’t notice tears wetting your face until he’s lapping at the trickling trails. Azul coos at you in a lilting voice. This one is different from the patronizing tone he uses when he’s being playful. This one is intensely fond. “Oh, che brava ragazza. Molto buono.” He holds your face still and kisses each cheek. The wet smack of his lips on your skin brings you back to yourself. He brightens when you finally lock eyes with him. “There she is. My sweet girl, you’ve done so well.”

His flowery flattery warms the stone hearth that is your heart.

“Don’t let go of me. Stay here,” you plead even though you know that won’t be for another few minutes. You’re stuck together, and with this comes the delirium of mellowed rapture.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He runs his hand along your back, soothed in the same way you currently are.

You rest your head against his shoulder and inhale deeply. “You smell so good… Why aren’t you mated yet? I’m sure your mate would be happy to have you as their own.”

“I would hope so.”

“I’d be happy…t-to have someone to call my own! I think it’s a wonderful thing.”

“As do I.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone.”

“I already have.” Something sly flickers in his gaze. It’s cold, creeping up your spine like a shadow. Without meaning to, you shiver. “And I’m not going to let her go. She’s always been mine. From the moment I met her, I was certain of this. She just can’t see it yet.”

You blink at him. His words play in loops, but you can’t comprehend his meaning.

Surely he’s not talking about…

You bark out a short laugh. “Stop messing around when we’re stuck together.”

“Aw. I thought it was plenty amusing.”

“Your sense of humor is so crooked!”

“Perhaps.” He pulls you flush against him and pets the bite on your shoulder. “My apologies for being so boorish.”

“Hm? Oh, that’s nothing. It’ll heal.”

“I do hope you feel better.”

“Ah, that… Sorry. I don’t know where my head was at earlier. Thanks for tonight, by the way. You’re too good to me.”

“I’d do anything for you. Never forget that.”

“What a scary sentiment…”

“Is that not a facet of love?”

“Depends. You don’t have to do everything for someone just to prove that you love them. And someone might not want that kind of love…”

“In the event of an unwilling spirit, I suppose the easiest solution is acceptance by way of entrapment.”

“What?”

“They say a room of glittering gold is still a cage even without the shackles. Perhaps there is no better love than the suffocating kind.”

“No way. That’s totally wrong!” You shake your head in amusement. “What a warped sort of love!”

“Is it? I’ve always believed this was most tangible—undeniable, even. Proof of one’s devotion.”

“That’s less romantic and more…obsessive. Don’t you think so?”

“There’s a phrase we sometimes say. Amore non è senza amaro.” You nod along, expecting the translation. But Azul merely smiles. “Well, I’m only saying such things to pass the time. Think nothing of it.”

“You really are an old man, speaking utter nonsense.”

“How you wound me with your slander!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Nonno,” you tease, winking.

Azul feigns hurt. “To think I would be called that at my young, young age… My heart crumbles.”

You smile. Maybe it really was nothing. Although I was sure that he… It’s not really my problem. We’re not even together.

Still, something is nagging at you. A heavy word despite being so little—merely three letters.

Yet.

We’re not even together yet.

Maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

And yet, something tells you it’s not.

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (12)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, slow burn—really slow burn, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, cursing, blood, stabbing, loan sharks, OC cusses excessively so watch out, hurt/comfort

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

← Previous Chapter (11) | Next Chapter (13) →

Baggage Chapter List

*****

You weren’t sure if your students prayed for your downfall after assigning them complex business cases to crack. But even if they didn't, you were starting to regret listening to Jungkook's suggestion. You missed the time when your students were your only worry. You weren’t stressed about school anymore. Unfortunately, you were experiencing frequent headaches in your business venture.

"What do you mean they won't pay?" You delegated business work to your people since you wanted experts to deal with issues you weren’t that familiar with. However, it seemed that was a regrettable decision too. Your accounts receivable manager told you the team couldn't collect your customers' debt.

"I'm sorry." The manager explained that the contract with customers was biding, so he didn't expect them to breach the terms. "They said they can't pay us on time since they're having difficulty with their operations."

"Tsk." You heard Jang Min make this sound on the other line. You were so stressed that you had to call your boyfriend and ask for business advice. As far as you know, Jang Min managed multiple lending companies. He would know what to do with delinquent debtors.

Sure enough, Jang Min rubbed his chin thoughtfully before covering his mouth with his hand. He looked as though he was deep in thought when he said, "Cолнышко мо, why don't you let my men handle those rats?"

"Rats?" Your brow knitted together as you gestured for your dejected manager to leave for a while. You were on speaker and didn't want your employees to think badly of you or Jang Min. You might be angry, but you care much about your team.

"Yeah, rats. Your debtors are filthy rats." Jang Min's face was unreadable. "My men would know what to do. Lee Sung-ssi will land in Korea in a few hours. Just say the word, and he'll handle them."

For some reason, Jang Min's way of helping left a bad taste in your mouth. Your heart was pounding, indicating that you wouldn't like whatever your boyfriend would say next. Still, you pushed through, "And how exactly will Lee Sung handle them?"

Jang Min paused—as if contemplating telling you the truth. He shrugged after a few minutes of deadly silence. "Lee Sung can visit them...they will talk. If the debtors insist on not paying, we can arrange some..." Jang Min trailed off, his eyes darkening. "Punishment."

You weren’t sure how you tolerated listening to your boyfriend despite your loud beating heart. Jang Min said the punishments range from mild to severe, depending on the loan amount. Some of his tactics involved intimidation and verbal threats, though he didn't recommend this as words didn't deter people. Harassment was an option, too. Lee Sung and the others could constantly call and show up at the debtors' houses and offices to scare them.

"We've batons and other weapons to—"

"Wait—Hold up." Your lips quivered as you stopped your boyfriend from speaking. You felt like your heart stopped beating, too. Was this true? Did the person you were dating really advise you to employ "Torture?" You gasped, taken by surprise. "You want me to give you the signal to torture my business clients?" 

The thing about you was you gave people the benefit of the doubt. You had no reason to think Jang Min was lying when he said: "No, of course not, Cолнышко мо. The weapons are merely a front to scare them."

Your therapist told you to trust your instinct, but how could you do that when, deep down, your whole being was screaming at you to run away from Jang Min? How could you follow your instinct when Jang Min never gave you a reason to distrust him?

Jang Min had been nothing but good to you. He loved you. Most importantly, he trusted you.

"How about we talk later?" You knew it wasn't best to keep running away from the worry at the pit of your stomach. You avoided your boyfriend every time you didn't like what he did or said. Until now, you and Jang Min hadn't discussed your minor fight regarding Soobin from weeks ago. You thought it would go away once he ignored it.

It was a wrong assumption as you realized that your doubt and anger toward Jang Min had accumulated in your heart. But still... you couldn't—not right now. Not when your mind still couldn't wrap around the thought of Jang Min not being the person you thought he was. It's too speculative and distrustful.

Jang Min didn't hold the line longer. You didn't know why, but relief instantly flooded your veins once the line had been cut off. You sat on your chair, absentmindedly turning it, until you felt dizzy. It didn't help that your office door burst open, with Soobin barging in after eating a bar of chocolate.

"Mama! Mama!" The kid was uncharacteristically hyper. Soobin used to be a quiet child who could sense whenever you needed some space. But since Jungkook started babysitting him, Soobin's childish nature became more prominent.

Your head hurt.

"What are you two doing here?" You didn't want to sound accusatory, but your tone and glare directed at Jungkook said otherwise. Jungkook hovered around the door, smiling proudly at his overjoyed son.

"I picked up Soobin from school. The kid said he wants to see you." The pick-up was a stretch when Jungkook never left the school premises in the first place. Soobin was recently enrolled in preschool since he was almost four years old. You used to have a homeschool tutor for Soobin in France, but you figured your son needed to adapt to Korea’s school system. Besides, Jungkook couldn't always look after the kid; he needed to work, too.

Fortunately, Jungkook wasn't fired from the fast food restaurant he worked at after proving that he was hospitalized. His manager reassigned him to a different duty, though. Jungkook was now a food delivery rider in the restaurant's parent company. He ordered himself the cheapest meal and had it delivered at Soobin's school just so he could 'deliver' it there and watch over his son from the start until the end of his class.

Soobin ran to Jungkook when his teacher gave him the signal to go. The kid learned to sing and play a tambourine. He asked his father if they could visit you in the office as he wanted to show off his new skills.

Soobin did precisely that. He tried climbing onto your lap while excitedly shaking his instrument back and forth.

"Soobin sing!!"

Your head immediately pulsated when your son opened his mouth while still 'playing' the tambourine. It was the worst. You gritted your teeth in annoyance, your patience wearing thin.

"Soobin." You lightly grabbed your son's arms to get him to stop. You looked helplessly at Jungkook, too, but he was downright oblivious.

"Twinkle! Twinkle! Star! Soobin wonder! What! You are!" Soobin tried singing the song he had learned. Unfortunately, you didn't appreciate it. You unconsciously snarled at your kid.

"Stop it! Why won't you listen to me? You're so naughty!" You got Soobin off your lap and onto his own feet. You tried to purse your lips to control your temper, but it was too late. Tears filled Soobin's eyes.

Normally, Soobin would softly call out, "Ma?" to you, but the kid's changed. He didn't like your reaction, so he flopped on the ground, whining like a true toddler as he kicked his feet in the air.

You stared blankly at Soobin, unable to wrap your mind in the thought that, for the first time, you didn't know what to do to pacify your son.

"Mama! Mean! Mean! Hate me!" Soobin sobbed mercilessly; tears fell from his eyes. His cheeks were bright crimson because of frustration. 

There was ringing in your ears. Distantly, you heard Jungkook call your name. You remained rooted in your seat, though. You physically couldn't tear your gaze from Soobin.

Crying. Soobin was crying because of you.

Jungkook was a wide reader who came across a book on how to calm an agitated child. If he wished, he could rush to Soobin and soothe him. But this wasn't his call to make. Soobin was yours before Soobin was Jungkook's. He couldn't impose but couldn't bear seeing such a heartbreaking scene.

Jungkook walked behind your back, gripping your shoulder. You froze, though you didn't shy away from Jungkook's touch. His warm hand was soothing. It gave you a sense of support, as though you could pacify Soobin on your own.

You could. But first, you had to calm yourself down.

"Breathe." Jungkook crouched down until his hot breath sprayed on your ear. "In and out. I'm going to count, okay? Be with me."

You followed the sound of Jungkook's voice until you felt your heart rate picking up its normal speed. You blinked as Soobin's cries filled your system, and suddenly, you crouched down.

"Oh, Mon bébé." You embraced Soobin, embracing him while continuously kissing his head. "I'm so sorry. Mama didn't mean to shout at you." You regretted not bringing pudding, but you figured it was best not to bribe your son with things he liked just to get him to stop feeling emotions. 

Jungkook didn't say anything to you. However, that small gesture supporting your back pushed you to snap back to reality and calm down. You'd probably scream at Soobin more had it not been for Jungkook intervening.

You felt shame stabbing your heart.

"I'm sorry, Soobin. Mama is very sorry." You forced yourself to stop crying as you soothed your kid. Soobin wasn't an unreasonable child. He calmed down after you gave him a few kisses and hugs. You tried to explain the situation to your son as calmly as possible. Every time you ran out of words, Jungkook would rub your back and say you were doing well. It also helped that Jungkook smiled at Soobin to assure the kid everything was alright.

"Wanna sing my song!" Soobin demanded when you asked how you could make him feel better. Your head throbbed again, but you nodded at Soobin.

"Alright, Mon bébé."

Soobin played his tambourine while singing his song. You felt dizzy; thankfully, Jungkook was there to rub your back and lightly distract Soobin from overstimulating you. Soobin played his music at least five times before he got tired and distracted by other things.

"Lego!" He dropped his tambourine on the floor and ran to the other room where you stored his toys. Jungkook was about to go after him, but you advised him against it.

"Let him be." You massaged your temples. "You don't have to monitor him constantly, you know? I didn't know you were clingier than me."

Jungkook's lips protruded. He flopped down the chair beside you. "I'm not the one constantly attached to the baby monitor at home."

"That's cause you're with Soobin all the time!" You snorted. "You don't need a baby monitor to see him."

Jungkook didn't correct you, simply shrugging his shoulders as he busied himself, looking at the scattered papers on the table. Jungkook had thirty minutes to spare before his manager looked for him. He booked five deliveries using different names and canceled them before the orders were completed. This was not honest work, but Jungkook couldn't care less. He missed Soobin. He liked spending time with his son—with or without your push.

"What's this?" Jungkook could not control his mouth or hands. There were documents on your table. Jungkook picked up the paper that caught his attention. "You're having a hard time collecting debts? What happened?"

Jungkook's eyes moved fast. He got the gist of your problem, so he didn't mind it when you snatched the paper from him.

"Don't you have work to do?" You uttered coldly, the paper in your hand crumpling. It was Jungkook's cue to shut the fuck up, but he didn't. He couldn't. His hands and feet were cold as Lee Sung's face flashed in his mind.

He hadn't seen Lee Sung in months now. Jungkook wasn't sure if the case of him getting seriously injured deterred the loan shark from bothering him. Jungkook tried not to think about his problems, but he couldn't shake it off now that he had read something about loans.

"You're not..." Jungkook's mouth went dry. Ugly thoughts circled his brain. However, he tried to fight them off. You were not like Lee Sung. You wouldn't hurt people just because of money. 

He changed his question, "How long is their debts overdue? Have you tried talking to them?"

"Jungkook." You crumpled the paper entirely. "I don't see how this is any of your business. Will you drop it? I'm already stressed as it is. Didn't you see how I snapped at my son? I..."

You inhaled sharply. You weren’t over what happened between you and Soobin earlier. It was your first big fight, and you both lost your temper. You didn't know what to do.

Jungkook was still antsy because of his issue with Lee Sung, yet his heart melted at seeing that you were struggling to adjust. Jungkook wasn't a stranger to business problems. He was like you before, afraid to voice his concerns as it was too stressful and it might affect his competency. He didn't want to appear like a sore loser before you.

You were headstrong and wouldn't shut up with your I told you so speech. But Jungkook didn't want you to go through the same problem he did. He wanted his best friend to be worry-free.

"You know Soobin throwing a tantrum is not bad, right?" Jungkook's tone was mellow. 

It didn't comfort you at all. You splayed fingers over your eyes, "I don't know. He's a good kid, Jungkook. He never cries like that."

Soobin usually demands crab spring rolls and pudding, but he was well-behaved. Jang Min even claimed that Soobin would just sleep around a lot. It was shocking to see him crying and screaming.

But Jungkook assured him it was fine. "Kids who throw tantrums are not bad, okay? It just shows that they're comfortable around you. Do you think Soobin will act all vulnerable with you if he doesn't trust you?"

Jungkook made sense. You were similar to Soobin when you were a child. You refused to let out your whines and sobs in front of your mother and those people at the club for fear of punishment. But with Jisoo, you slowly learned to be vulnerable.

It should be comforting, yet a scoff left your mouth as you said sarcastically, "Is that why you didn't act 'vulnerable' around me before? Because you don't trust me?"

It was petty—an attempt to throw Jungkook off because what did he know about trusting people? However, you didn't want to be in this position anymore. It was a constant battle between your past and current self. You didn’t want to stay loyal to your suffering anymore.

And Jungkook was trying. He had never done anything wrong since he first got involved with Soobin.

"I'm sorry," you said immediately. Because trust, you realized, was a two-way street. You shamed Jungkook for what he did years ago, but here you were, one step forward and two backward with Jungkook.

"That's not fair of me." You held Jungkook's cold hand in an attempt to show sincerity. The bastard's hands were warm. You wanted to press your face against them. "You're trying to be helpful. I shot you down."

It's okay. Jungkook wanted to say because, like he claimed weeks ago, he was not in any position to snarl at you. But it wasn't working anymore. No one said breaking down walls would be easy.

Jungkook needed an axe to smash those damn cemented walls.

"Then don't shoot me down anymore." Jungkook didn't pull his hands away. He wished he could caress your face. "Let me help you.”

You tongued the inside of your cheek, looking hesitant, but you nodded. 

Jungkook let out a long breath.

"Thank you." Then his face turned solemn. "There are many ways to make your debtors pay. I didn't see all your files, but I'm guessing they're merely accounts receivable?"

You did not want to have this conversation with Jungkook. You thought you were still discussing how to raise Soobin. You found yourself answering Jungkook's queries, though.

"Most are accounts receivable, yes." Your forehead creased. "But I have people who loaned money from my business."

"Are you taking legal action?" Suddenly, Jungkook couldn't breathe. His throat hurt—as if he was being choked. "Please listen to me. There's no point in imprisoning or employing violence to them."

"What do you take me for?" You scoffed, hiding your nervousness behind your mask. Shit. Did Jungkook know? Did he somehow figure out Jang Min's suggestion?

"No." Jungkook pulled you out of deep thought. "I'm just asking. It's not a good idea.”

He explained to you why legal action was not worth it.

"It's costly. The court will fix a payment date for them, but your debtors are not guaranteed to pay you. Besides..." Jungkook said imprisonment wasn't viable as it would hinder the debtors from paying you more. How could they make money if they were in prison?

"Sell your accounts receivable to factoring companies. You have products nearing the expiration date, right? They're in debt because they bought similar items from your company. You won't be able to sell most of them. This is Korea. We're strict about the dates, so just hand them as freebies to those who will pay you on a specified date. As for your loans receivable, wave the interest. Do you have an accountant in your firm?"

You couldn't follow how fast things were going. Jungkook solved your worries in seconds, and none involved pressuring your debtors illegally. They all sounded fair.

"I..." You blinked and wetted your lips, "Yes. I've several of them."

"Good. Schedule a meeting with them. You need management accountants to formulate strategies for you, but I have some tricks to speed up collection without hurting anyone. Are you familiar with the lockbox system?"

Your mind was floating. This was such a dreamy solution. Your weeks' worth of stress was rapidly crumbling down.

You smiled at Jungkook—a sincere smile. "Hold on for a minute. I'll call everyone involved, and then we can all discuss. Stay. I need you here."

Jungkook flashed a smile, too. He squeezed your hands. "I'm here, okay?"

You didn't mind that you were holding hands with Jungkook all this time. Good. Everything was good.

**** The first week of you and Jungkook teaming up to solve business problems passed without a hiccup.

You were both sleep-deprived, though.

"Drink." Jungkook placed a glass of hot milk in front of you. "You’re too hotheaded. Hotheaded people need milk to cool down."

"Tsk." You clicked your tongue, but you drank the milk in one go. "You're insufferable."

****

You faced some challenges in the second week. Fortunately, it was not something you and Jungkook couldn't handle.

"I miss Soobin," Jungkook complained while you were in a boring meeting.

"He's literally on the other side of the room."

Jungkook gave you a knowing look. You raised your hand in surrender. "Fine. I miss him, too. Go on, call him. If he doesn't quietly sit on your lap, I'll kick both of you out of this meeting."

"Always so violent, sweetheart."

You just shook your head. Jungkook was wrong. You didn't have it in you to kick him out anymore.

**** The third week was where you gave your all. It was finalized. Your company has partially recovered. It wouldn't take long before everything returned to normal.

"Thank you." You told Jungkook sincerely.

"No problem." Jungkook wiggled his brows playfully. "What are best—frie—"

It was painfully embarrassing (and endearing) to witness Jungkook looking for the right word to describe your relationship.

"Friends." You supplied helpfully. "We're friends now."

Relief washed over Jungkook’s face. It showed in his sparkly brown eyes.

"Thank you." The unsaid words went like this:

I won't fail you anymore.

****

The fourth week was when you proposed an official position for Jungkook.

"Join the company." You said without any hesitation. "Head strategist in finance. The team needs you."

It should be answerable by yes or no. Regrettably, Jungkook only murmured your name.

"What." You tried to remain calm despite feeling your heart falling. Jungkook was rejecting you. "You ventured with Jimin before, didn't you? This isn't any different. I guarantee you the pay is good. It's more than what you make as a delivery rider."

It wasn't said out of spite. You simply stated a fact, but Jungkook's lips were tightly shut.

The words 'come on, bastard' were at the tip of your tongue. You didn't voice it out, opting for a safer approach.

"You've done a good job saving us all. I owe you one." You patted Jungkook's shoulder and squeezed it in a friendly manner. "Let me treat you to a fancy dinner, alright? I already bought you a suit. Wear it. Forget everything first and have fun with me there."

The silence ballooned. You popped it after a few seconds.

"Then, at the end of the night, you can tell me your answer about the offer. See you, Kookie."

Kookie.

Jungkook's breathing hitched; by the time he could react, you were long gone.

****

In spite of his doubts, Jungkook was happy to go on a date with you.

A date.

Jungkook snorted at himself. He was pretty sure you didn't see your meeting as a date, but it didn't stop him from daydreaming. Months ago, his life was so messed up that he wished he could end it all. Now, though...

Jungkook looked at his figure in the mirror. He cleaned up nicely. The white suit you bought for him was akin to royalty. He knew you spent a fortune on this one.

It's going to be okay. Jungkook cheered, a rare thing he did. It was just dinner—he'd casually talk to you, and just like you said, you would have fun.

Your meeting was timed at 7PM. Jungkook went to the washroom to freshen up, expecting you to arrive when he returned to your reserved table.

Sadly, there was no sign of you anywhere.

Jungkook looked at the time: 7:35PM. It was rare for you not to show up on the dot, causing him to check the date.

He didn't get it wrong, though. You were really scheduled to go out tonight. Perhaps you had a difficult time looking for a babysitter?

But if so, why didn't you contact him?

Jungkook shook his head slightly. Never mind. He'd just wait for some time.

****

The clock said 8:15PM, but you hadn't arrived yet.

****

9:24PM and there was still no sign of you anywhere.

****

10:13PM

Jungkook brought out the company phone you lent to him.

Are we still up for tonight? He asked.

There was no response.

***

10:28PM

Jungkook's stomach growled. The server asked if his company would still be coming.

"She is." He said as he drank his sparkling water.

His stomach growled, but he had no money to order food.

Frankly, he wasn't in the mood to eat either.

****

11:08PM

Jungkook asked for the bill. He paid a small amount since he only ordered water.

"I guess my friend isn't coming at all."

The waiter looked at Jungkook apologetically.

It's okay. Jungkook wanted to say. I've been through worse.

The walk out of the restaurant and into your home was layered with lavender haze. It wasn't raining, but a storm was brewing in his heart.

Jungkook looked up at the sky. It wasn't okay.

****

11:42PM

Jungkook arrived at your house. He still lived with you. Truthfully, You gave him a spare key to go in and out of the house whenever he wanted. However, Jungkook wasn’t sure he could enter as he pleased because outside your home was an Aurus Senat car. Jungkook had the worst timing—he saw you hopping out of the vehicle; your expression was soft as you looked at the other person getting out of the car.

It was a man. Jungkook couldn’t see the man’s face as he was carrying a sleeping Soobin in his arms. The mysterious man stood near you, crouching down a little to give you a slow kiss.

Oh.

Pain flashed in Jungkook’s eyes as he witnessed the scene before him.

You were dating another man.

Jungkook knew he wasn’t entitled to feel anger or jealousy. Unfortunately, those were the exact two emotions that engulfed his heart—jealousy being more apparent than the other.

The green monster screamed at Jungkook to storm over there, possessively wrapped his arms around your waist, and carried Soobin in his arms.

That’s my child. Jungkook’s jealousy was taking control.

And you. You were….

Jungkook’s thoughts had been cut off when someone sneaked behind him. The emotions he had yet to process went down the drain in an instant—it was replaced by fear when he felt a cold metallic blade hovering on the side of his stomach. It was followed by an overly saccharine greeting.

“Hello there, Jungkook-ah. Long time no see.” Jungkook froze. The man behind him chuckled. “Stay with me for a while, hmm? We can’t have you ruining a perfect family reunion, right?”

The man harshly angled Jungkook’s face toward your direction to see the perfect image of a family.

Jungkook’s heart clenched, but he didn’t have it in him to feel jealous anymore. His days were numbered.

Lee Sung was back.

*****

A/N: I didn't use too much jargon, did I? What do we think about this chapter.

Reblog, like, comment if you can! It inspires me to write 🎀

it's 3AM i need sleep. i have work later. good night!

[bamsara]

"I just wanted to say. Thank you for protecting me"

Eclipse-Centric | Wordcount: 805 | AO3 Version

(Maybe some major spoilers for Solar Lunacy, TW for some robot gore, human injury)

The damage to their body was... extensive. Not life-threatening. But extensive.

You don't know how you're going to fix this right now, but Gramps has a toolbox in the shed, and there's duct tape underneath your kitchen sink, and Eclipse is very, very patient as he sits numbly on your coach, of few words and more looks, as you pluck out charred wires and plastic out of the hole in his arm to the robot that's probably held together less out of reasonable sense and more out of will and magic that you don't understand.

The arm that was torn off has sharp edges in the metal that cut at your fingertips when you try and brush it off, and you don't know if the animatronic feel pain if you were to try and sand it. So, in a comical fashion, you've put an oven mitt over the end of it, taping it to hold its place.

The other arms are laying limp, two on the couch, resting with its palm up in your lap. There's fried wiring around the elbow, dents in the forearm where Monty grabbed him, and openings that you can't tell look like they're from wolf claws or the steel of a knife.

The sight of them makes the wound under your own bandages ache for a moment, but you swallow back the wet soreness in your throat and continue working. The hospital gave you decent pain meds. You needed to stay on task while they were effective.

"Lift, please." You talk quietly, fearing that your voice may crack.

Eclipse doesn't respond, eyes locked onto the television. The news is playing, covering the fire. The sound is low so not to bother you. Still, the animatronic shifts his limbs for you, head turned towards the screen.

There's melted plastic stuck to his forearm, and you're peeling it off with chipped fingernails and whatever willpower you have left, flicking off the pieces onto the carpet to vacuum up later when you have the energy. Leaning back, you gather the duct tape from the coffee table, pulling out a strip to cover the hole in his shoulder.

It's...not what he needs. But it's all you have. All you can do is pick up the pieces and cover up the damage so it doesn't get any worse.

"I'm gonna put this over the opening, okay?" Two long strips are wide enough to cover this 'wound', and it seals the inside of the wiring away. "So nothing gets in your chassis. Or falls out."

Eclipse doesn't make a movement to acknowledge what you said, staring limply with the default smile toward the news broadcaster detailing the company's statement, and it's an estimate of the cost of damages.

Their ability to emote is not currently active, just like their voicebox. Not until they are both fixed. You wish they were active. You wish you could get something, a facial expression, a joke, a sentence, anything. You're taping your friend's fingers together like broken bones only theirs were stuck as claws.

A warmth travels down your face, past your mouth and you don't feel the wetness until it hits your neck. Lips pressed together into a thin line, you rub the tear away. You'll do that on your own time. Not now.

When you blink, you see a shift in the corner of your eye. Eclipse is staring at you now.

Your tongue feels swollen in your mouth. "I, uh-" You busy yourself with his hand, grey-tainted with burned-off paint and scorched sharp points. "I wanted to say thank you for protecting me. You know-" You keep your head low. "Back then."

He looks at you with black eyes and still pupils. The crack in his faceplate feels like guilt and sorrow in your ribcage.

You missed them saying things. You'd be happy for a stupid nickname, even.

The fingers you were treating suddenly tense in your grip, and by instinct, you let them go, until they turn and they fold around your own hand. Long, damaged fingers curl into your own, grasping your hand and holding it along with your wrist.

You freeze as Eclipse leans down, and his faceplate presses against your forehead. Not barely, but heavily, firmly, resting in your hair.

He lingers there as the news broadcast flashes familiar images on the screen, casting different colors on both of you.

You only raise a hand to press your fingertips to the bottom of his faceplate pushing him back as you mummer you needed to remove his ruffled collar so you can clean the soot you've spotted hidden underneath it.

He lets you, but the hand not using the rag stays in his hold, and his other comes up to palm away a warmth that falls from your face and onto your neck again.

[lunardragon00]

Pretty Woman

Choi San x Reader

A straitlaced CEO hires a spirited, streetwise prostitute to be his companion for a weeklong series of business events. But what begins as a job proposition takes a turn toward the romantic.

Warning: Prostitution // talk of past SA // angst // drug transactions // semi-smut // derogatory remarks // Physical confrontations // fighting

A/N: So this ended up being way longer than I anticipated, can't say I've written a 34k story before. But this is one of my favorite movies and I had a lot of fun writing out this story. I hope you guys enjoy!!

Choi San sat alone in the penthouse suite, his gaze fixed on the glass of whiskey in his hand. The room around him was pristine, every surface spotless, every piece of furniture carefully chosen for its clean lines and understated elegance. It was a reflection of his life—controlled, orderly, and completely under his command. But tonight, as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass, he felt an unease creeping in, a crack in the carefully constructed facade.

The day had been long, filled with meetings that stretched his patience thin. This latest merger was proving more complex than he'd anticipated, and the board members he needed to sway were proving to be tougher than expected. They weren't just interested in numbers; they wanted to see the man behind the empire, the one who could charm them as easily as he could close a deal.

But charm was never San's strength. His reputation in the business world was built on precision, not pleasantries. He was known for being direct, sometimes to the point of intimidation. It worked in the boardroom, but in social settings, it was a different story. These were circles where charisma often outweighed competence, and where the right companion could make all the difference.

He took a sip of his drink, the burn of the whiskey grounding him in the present. He hated this part—the games, the false smiles, the endless small talk. But he couldn't afford to let personal discomfort jeopardize the future of his company. Not now.

San placed the glass down and glanced at the portfolio on the table, filled with profiles of potential business partners and socialites he might have to charm over the coming week. He pushed it aside, a sense of restlessness growing within him. The walls of the suite felt like they were closing in, the quiet too suffocating.

Without another thought, he grabbed his keys and jacket, needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere of his own success. The penthouse, with its panoramic views and luxurious trappings, suddenly felt like a gilded cage. A drive—that's what he needed. Something to clear his mind, to escape the pressure, even if just for a little while.

The piercing sound of the alarm cut through the darkness, dragging Y/N from the fragile grasp of sleep. She groaned, reaching out to silence the shrill noise, but the weight of exhaustion clung to her like a heavy blanket. It was late—too late, by any normal standard—but this was her reality. Her work didn't start until the sun went down, and tonight, like so many others, she would have to push through the fatigue and face it head-on.

She sat up slowly, the dim light of the small apartment casting long shadows across the room. The space was modest, almost bare, with only the essentials to fill it. A single bed, a rickety table with two mismatched chairs, and a small kitchenette that had seen better days. The walls were thin, the paint peeling in places, and the constant hum of the city outside was a reminder of just how close the world was, yet how far out of reach it felt.

Y/N rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the lingering sleep. The truth was, she was tired—tired of the late nights, the endless hustle, the constant worry about whether she could make rent this month. The bills were piling up, and the money she made barely stretched far enough to cover the essentials. The landlord had been patient so far, but she knew that wouldn't last. Sooner or later, the demands would come, and she'd be out on the street if she couldn't pay.

She hated this life. It wasn't what she had dreamed of, not by a long shot. But dreams didn't pay the bills, and right now, this was the only job she had. The streets were unforgiving, and while she had learned how to navigate them, the cost was steep—her dignity, her peace of mind, her sense of self-worth.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her feet touching the cold floor. The weight of reality settled heavily on her shoulders as she stood up, forcing herself to move, to get ready. There was no time for self-pity. She had to make it through another night, like all the nights before, and hope that somehow, things would get better.

In the bathroom, she caught her reflection in the cracked mirror. The woman staring back at her looked older than her years, the stress and strain etched into her features. She had learned how to paint on a smile, how to project confidence and allure, but it was all a mask. Beneath it, she was just trying to survive, one day at a time.

She sighed and turned away from the mirror, focusing instead on getting dressed. The clothes she wore for work were another layer of armor, a way to protect herself from the harshness of the world outside. But tonight, as she prepared to step back into that world, the weight of it all felt heavier than usual.

With a final glance around the apartment, Y/N grabbed her coat and headed for the door. The night awaited her, as it always did, with the promise of more struggles, more compromises. But she pushed the thoughts aside and forced herself to move forward. She had no other choice.

The night air was cool against her skin as Y/N stepped out onto the street, pulling her coat tighter around her. The city was alive with noise and movement, even at this hour, a mix of neon lights and shadows playing across the cracked pavement. She walked with purpose, her steps quick and determined, though the heaviness in her chest made each one feel like a struggle.

As she moved through the city, the sights and sounds of the underbelly surrounded her. She passed by an alley where two men huddled close, exchanging cash for small, wrapped packages. Their eyes darted nervously, their voices low and hurried. Further down the road, a couple of men were shouting at each other, the tension between them palpable as they squared off, fists clenched. She kept her distance, not wanting to get caught up in whatever was brewing.

Y/N had learned to navigate these streets, to keep her head down and her wits about her. She wasn't new to the dangers that lurked in the shadows, the unseen threats that could emerge at any moment. But that didn't make it any easier. Each night was a test of survival, a gamble she was forced to play.

The shouts and hollers of drunken revelers echoed across the road, mingling with the sounds of traffic and the occasional blare of a horn. Groups of men and women, some dressed in flashy clothes that reflected the city lights, others looking more worn down by life, wandered along the sidewalks. Y/N kept to herself, her eyes scanning the area, always aware of her surroundings.

She turned a corner and spotted a familiar face waiting for her beneath a flickering streetlamp. Seoyeon. Her friend's expression was a mix of impatience and irritation, a cigarette hanging loosely from her lips. Seoyeon's appearance was sharp and eye-catching, but her demeanor was far from friendly tonight.

"About time," Seoyeon snapped as Y/N approached, her tone sharp and dismissive. "I've been waiting forever. Did you forget we had a deal?"

Y/N forced a smile, trying to mask the frustration that bubbled beneath the surface. "I'm here now. What's going on?"

Seoyeon rolled her eyes, exhaling a cloud of smoke with a dramatic sigh. "I'm in trouble again. You know how it is—always something. I need you to cover me this time. Can't have another mess on my hands."

Y/N's jaw tightened, the familiar resentment flaring up. "Seriously, Seoyeon? Every time it's the same story. You get into trouble, and I'm the one who has to clean up your mess."

"Hey, don't get all high and mighty," Seoyeon retorted, her voice defensive. "I didn't ask for this, alright? But you're the only one who can help me out. Just this once, okay?"

Y/N clenched her fists, struggling to keep her temper in check. She cared about Seoyeon, had been dragged into this industry because of her, but it didn't make the constant reliance any easier to bear. "Fine. What do you need?"

Seoyeon's face softened slightly, though there was still a hint of manipulation in her eyes. "I owe some guys money. I was supposed to meet them earlier, but I messed up. Can you go and sort it out? I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples. "You always say that. When's the last time you actually followed through?"

Seoyeon's gaze shifted, a flicker of guilt passing over her features before she masked it with a smirk. "Look, I'm in a bind. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. You know I wouldn't."

The unspoken history between them—how Seoyeon had been the one to introduce Y/N to this world, how she had promised it would be a temporary solution—hung heavy in the air. Y/N had hoped for something better, but now, each promise felt like a broken record, spinning endlessly without resolution.

"Alright," Y/N said finally, her voice resigned. "I'll take care of it. But we need to talk about this. Soon."

Seoyeon nodded, her expression a mix of relief and annoyance. "Sure, sure. Thanks, Y/N. You're a lifesaver."

Y/N watched as Seoyeon turned and walked away, the cigarette still dangling from her fingers. She felt a pang of anger mixed with sympathy, a complicated cocktail of emotions that never seemed to resolve itself. 

The night had grown colder as Y/N walked through the winding streets to the rendezvous point, her breath visible in the crisp air. The alley was dimly lit, illuminated only by the flickering light of a broken streetlamp and the occasional passing car. She approached a group of men leaning against the graffiti-covered brick wall, their faces half-hidden in the shadows.

"Hey, guys," Y/N called out, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm here about the money."

The men looked up, their expressions shifting from casual to curious as they recognized her. One of them, a taller man with a more approachable demeanor, smiled and pushed off the wall.

"Ah, Y/N. We've been expecting you," he said, his tone friendly. "Glad you could make it."

Y/N managed a relieved smile, stepping closer. "Yeah, sorry I'm late. Seoyeon was supposed to cover this, but she's in a bit of a mess. I can sort it out—just need one more night."

"Of course she is," the man said, his demeanor relaxed. "Well then, let's get this over with. We've got other matters to handle."

Y/N nodded, trying to remain calm. "I get that. Look, I don't have anything one me right now, but I'll have the cash for you tomorrow night, I swear."

The men exchanged glances, clearly unimpressed. "Look, Y/N, you're a sweet girl but tomorrow night? You think that's gonna cut it?" the burly man shot back, his voice edged with anger. "We need the money now."

"I understand," Y/N said, her voice growing more desperate. "Just give me one more night. I'll have it for you, I promise." The man's smile turned into a smirk. "Well, there's an easy solution. How about you spend the night with us, huh?" He gestured to himself and the main guy, a heavily tattooed man with a menacing presence. "For free. We'll call it even."

Y/N's blood ran cold. "No, I can't do that. I told you, I'll pay you back tomorrow. C'mon you know me, you know I'm good on my word."

The atmosphere turned hostile as the men's smiles vanished, replaced by harsh glares. The wiry man with the predatory look stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. "You think you can just waltz in here and make promises? We're not in the mood for games."

Y/N took a step back, her pulse quickening. "I'm not trying to play games. I'm serious about paying you back. Just please—"

Before she could finish, the wiry man grabbed her arm roughly, pulling her toward Tony. "You're coming with us. We're not waiting another night."

Y/N struggled, trying to pull away, but their grip was firm. "Let go! Hey, this isn't right!"

The situation escalated quickly as the men began to surround her. The taller man's initial friendly demeanor had vanished, replaced by a predatory gleam in his eyes. The burly man moved in closer, clearly intent on making good on their threat.

Just as the situation seemed to reach a breaking point, a new figure appeared from the shadows—tall, well-dressed, and entirely out of place in the gritty alley. His presence commanded immediate attention. He moved with purpose, his demeanor confident and authoritative.

"Hey!" the newcomer called out sharply, his voice cutting through the tension. "Let her go."

The men turned to face him, surprise and irritation evident on their faces. The newcomer stepped forward, placing himself between Y/N and the group. His gaze was cold, his stance unyielding.

"Who the hell are you?" the wiry man demanded, his voice laced with hostility.

The well-dressed man didn't respond immediately. Instead, he gently but firmly placed a hand on Y/N's shoulder, guiding her away from the group. "We're leaving."

Y/N glanced at him, her eyes wide with a mix of relief and confusion. She followed his lead, her heart racing as they moved away from the men and into the safety of the streetlight's glow. Behind them, the group of men muttered angrily but made no move to follow.

Once they were at a safe distance, the well-dressed man stopped and turned to Y/N, his expression softening slightly. "Are you alright?"

Y/N nodded, though her voice was shaky. "Yeah, thanks to you. I didn't expect anyone to come along."

The man's gaze remained steady, his demeanor calm despite the tension of the moment. "You shouldn't have to deal with that kind of situation. Where do you live, let me give you a ride."

Y/N hesitated, the events of the night weighing heavily on her. She glanced back at the alley, then at the man, unsure of what to do next. "I don't want to impose..."

The man's look was firm yet kind. "It's not an imposition. You look like you've had a long night, just let me help."

With a grateful nod, Y/N followed him to his car, the warmth of the interior a stark contrast to the cold night air. As they drove away from the city's shadows, Y/N couldn't help but wonder about the man who had come to her aid.

The interior of the car was a world apart from the grimy streets Y/N had just escaped. The leather seats were plush and inviting, the dashboard gleaming with high-tech controls that she had only ever seen in movies. As they drove through the city, Y/N's gaze wandered around the cabin, her eyes wide with curiosity.

San's focus remained on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel with practiced ease. Occasionally, he glanced at Y/N, amused by her fascination with the car.

"Is it far?" San asked, breaking the silence as he navigated through the night traffic.

Y/N snapped back to the present, momentarily disoriented by the question. "Oh, um, no, not too far. Just a few more turns up ahead."

She then turned her attention back to the interior of the car, her fingers lightly brushing the leather seat beside her. "I've never been in a car like this before. It's... wow. Everything is so sleek and shiny. The seats are so soft, and look at this dashboard! I don't even know what half these buttons do, but they look so cool."

San chuckled softly, his eyes still on the road. "Glad you like it."

Y/N nodded vigorously, her eyes sparkling. "I do! I mean, I've seen fancy cars in magazines and on TV, but this is different. It's like being inside a work of art. I bet you have a lot of these kinds of things, huh?"

San shook his head, still amused. "Not really. This is just one of the nicer ones I use."

Y/N's eyes widened. "Oh, so you have more cars like this? That's cool! You must really enjoy them."

San gave a noncommittal shrug. "I suppose you could say that."

Intrigued, Y/N leaned forward a bit, her curiosity piqued. "So, what do you do? I mean, you must be pretty important to have a car like this. Are you like, a businessman or something?"

San glanced at her briefly. "Something like that."

Y/N tilted her head, her curiosity getting the better of her. "You don't talk much about yourself, do you? It's like you're all mysterious and stuff. I bet you've got some fascinating stories."

San's lips curled into a slight smile. "Everyone has their stories."

Y/N's eyes sparkled with a mix of admiration and amusement. "You're like one of those enigmatic figures you read about in books. I bet you've had all sorts of adventures and high-stakes meetings. You probably have to deal with all sorts of dramatic stuff, huh?"

San's expression remained steady, but his eyes held a glint of amusement. Y/N laughed softly, her gaze drifting back to the sleek dashboard. "I can't help but imagine you're the type who has a secret lair or something, like in those spy movies. Is that why you're so good at keeping things vague?"

San chuckled, the sound low and pleasant. "Maybe I just prefer to keep things simple."

Y/N grinned, her mood lightened by the conversation. "Well, whatever your secrets are, I'm just grateful you were around tonight. It's not every day someone gets saved from a rough situation and ends up in a car like this."

"You always talk this much?" San asked, his tone teasing.

Y/N laughed, a genuine sound that carried a hint of relief. "Well, I do like to keep the conversation going. It's better than sitting in silence, don't you think?"

San raised an eyebrow, glancing over at her with a smirk. "I suppose so. But you do have a lot to say."

Y/N's eyes twinkled with mischief. "What can I say? I like to make the most out of any situation. And besides, it's not every day I get to ride in a car like this with a mysterious, enigmatic gentleman."

San chuckled, the sound warm and easy. "I'll take that as a compliment."

They shared a moment of comfortable silence as the cityscape glided past outside the windows. Y/N's mind raced with thoughts, her nerves settling into a curious excitement. She had never been in a situation like this before—driving through the city with a wealthy stranger who had come to her rescue. As the car continued its smooth journey, Y/N decided to seize the opportunity.

Turning towards San, she shifted her posture slightly, leaning in with a playful glint in her eyes. "You know," she began, her voice taking on a softer, more flirtatious tone, "it's really kind of you to help me out tonight. I'm sure a guy like you doesn't get to meet people like me very often."

San's eyes flickered with amusement, though he kept his focus on the road. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Y/N's smile widened as she toyed with the hem of her jacket. "Well, I'm just saying, a man of your... caliber must have a lot of exciting things going on. And I'm pretty good at making a night memorable."

San's expression remained guarded, but there was a faint, intrigued glimmer in his eyes. "Is that so?"

Y/N leaned a little closer, her voice dropping to a more intimate pitch. "Absolutely. I mean, I could make this night unforgettable in more ways than one. I'm available for, let's say, special services. And considering how you're such a great guy, I'd be happy to give you a special rate."

San glanced at her with a raised eyebrow, his lips curling into a half-smile. "You're quite the charmer. But I think I'll have to pass on that offer."

Y/N chuckled softly, her cheeks tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "Just thought I'd ask. Can't blame a girl for trying, right?"

San's tone softened, his gaze returning to the road. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm not looking for anything like that. Just helping someone out."

Y/N nodded, a mix of relief and disappointment settling in. "Fair enough. Thanks again for the ride and for stepping in back there. It really meant a lot."

San's expression relaxed into a genuine smile. "No problem."

As the car continued its journey through the city, the atmosphere between them remained light and easy. Y/N felt a newfound sense of comfort in the company of her mysterious rescuer, and despite the night's earlier chaos, the drive had become a small, unexpected adventure of its own.

When they finally reached her apartment, Y/N turned to San with a grateful smile. "This is me. Thanks again for everything."

San nodded, his expression sincere. "Anytime. Take care."

With a final wave, Y/N stepped out of the car, her mind still buzzing with the events of the night. As she watched the sleek vehicle drive away, she couldn't help but feel a mix of gratitude and curiosity about the man who had come to her aid. 

San leaned back in his chair as the last of the meeting's participants filed out of the conference room. The air was thick with the residue of business discussions and deal-making, but the tension had eased. He rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of the upcoming week settle heavily on his shoulders.

Sung-Ho, his assistant, approached with a stack of files in hand. "Good meeting, sir. I've got the agenda for the week and a few other updates for you."

San nodded, accepting the files and flipping through them briefly. "Great, let's hear it."

As Sung-Ho outlined the key events and gatherings San would be attending, he made a subtle but pointed comment. "You know, San, with all these formal dinners and social gatherings coming up, it might be a good idea to find a date. You've been turning down every candidate I've sent your way."

San sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I've been busy. Besides, I don't see the need for a date."

Sung-Ho raised an eyebrow. "It's not just about having someone to accompany you. You need someone who can help you make the right impressions and navigate the social intricacies. Your presence alone won't be enough to charm the people you need to win over."

San leaned back in his chair, contemplating the week ahead. Formal dinners, high-profile events, and social gatherings—each one demanding a perfect blend of charm and sophistication. He knew Sung-Ho was right. His sharp intellect and business acumen were only part of the equation. The social finesse required to win over his targets was something he needed to address.

"I'll find someone," San said dismissively, waving off the concern. "I've got a few ideas."

Sung-Ho nodded, though his expression was one of mild frustration. "Alright, but don't wait too long. The events are just around the corner."

As Sung-Ho left the office to handle other tasks, San's thoughts drifted back to the girl he had encountered the previous night. Despite his best efforts to focus on the pressing business matters at hand, she lingered in his mind—a vivid memory of her wide-eyed curiosity and her desperate yet hopeful demeanor. The way she had spoken about his car, the brief but genuine connection they had shared—there was something about her that struck a chord.

San's gaze drifted to the window, his thoughts a whirl of the week's demands and the unexpected encounter. He found himself wondering if she might be the very person he needed. Not just for her charm, but for the unique spark she seemed to possess. A companion who could navigate the social scene with ease, who could stand by his side and play the perfect partner—she might just fit the bill.

San sat in his penthouse, a glass of whiskey resting in his hand. The room around him was vast and sleek, filled with an understated luxury that perfectly matched his quiet intensity. He swirled the amber liquid, his mind still racing with thoughts of the week ahead, and more importantly, of the girl who had occupied his thoughts all day. His phone buzzed on the table, breaking the silence.

San picked it up, already sensing what was coming.

"There's a guest waiting for you downstairs," the voice on the other end said smoothly.

San didn't need to ask who it was. "I'll be down shortly."

Hanging up, he stood and straightened his jacket, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. The intrigue of it all had him moving with a certain energy, a curiosity that he rarely indulged. It wasn't every day that someone broke into his carefully calculated world, and the prospect of seeing her again—her wide-eyed wonder, her unabashed honesty—brought an unexpected thrill.

Descending to the lobby, the elevator's soft chime announced his arrival. The grand, marble-clad space of the hotel's entrance greeted him, bustling with guests coming and going, the soft hum of activity filling the air. His driver stood by the entrance, a tall figure dressed in black, as composed and professional as ever. But San's attention wasn't on him.

Near the towering glass doors, she stood, her figure slightly hunched with nervous energy. Her gaze darted around the opulent lobby, eyes wide and mesmerized by the splendor of it all—the chandeliers glittering above, the golden accents that adorned the room, the polished floors that gleamed beneath her feet. She seemed out of place but not in a way that detracted from her; if anything, she stood out even more vividly against the backdrop of wealth and luxury.

She wore a simple outfit, nothing flashy, but her nervous fidgeting gave away her uncertainty. Her fingers twisted the edge of her coat as she anxiously glanced around, trying not to seem overwhelmed.

San paused for a moment, watching her from a distance. Her wide-eyed fascination was endearing, and the vulnerability she carried with her was unlike anything he had seen in the circles he usually moved in. He almost found it amusing—how she couldn't stop gazing at the grandeur surrounding her, like a tourist stepping into a whole new world.

Finally, he stepped forward, his movements purposeful yet unhurried. As he approached, Y/N's gaze flicked towards him, and her eyes widened slightly when she recognized him. For a moment, she looked as if she didn't know what to say, her mouth opening slightly in surprise.

"Enjoying the view?" San asked, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement.

Y/N blinked, realizing she had been caught staring. A small, sheepish smile tugged at her lips. "Yeah... this place is incredible. I've never seen anything like it."

San offered her a brief smile. "It has its charms."

Y/N shifted on her feet, still unsure of how to handle the situation. She opened her mouth again, words tumbling out in a hurried string of sentences. "I, uh... I didn't know you were the one asking for me. Your driver... Jungwoo, right? Yeah, real good guy, super nice. He, uh, didn't say much, just kind of looked at me all serious-like. But you know, he did open the door for me, so that was nice. And this place... wow, it's like something out of a movie. Do you live here? Like, is this your everyday life?"

Her words came out fast, her nervous habit of talking when she was anxious taking over. She fidgeted with her coat, her fingers constantly moving, twisting the fabric as if seeking some sort of comfort. San observed her with a quiet amusement, noticing how her fidgeting seemed to mirror her thoughts—fast, unpredictable, a little scattered.

San found the habit unexpectedly charming. In his world of poised confidence and carefully chosen words, her raw nervousness was a rare thing. She was trying to navigate the moment, not with the smoothness of someone accustomed to such luxury, but with an open curiosity and honesty that made her stand out even more.

"I live here when I'm in town," he replied, his voice even and measured, doing little to hint at the thoughts running through his mind. "And yes, Jungwoo's a good man. Been with me for years."

Y/N nodded rapidly, her eyes flicking between him and the grand interior of the lobby. "That's nice. It's nice to have someone you can rely on, you know? I don't really have that kind of thing, but... anyway, this place is just... I mean, do you ever get used to it? Like, walking in here every day and not getting lost in all the marble and the chandeliers?"

San's lips twitched into a faint smile. "You'd be surprised how quickly it becomes normal."

Y/N laughed nervously, her fingers still twisting at the edges of her coat. "I bet. You probably don't even notice the fancy stuff anymore, huh? Meanwhile, I'm over here trying not to bust my ass on the shiny floors."

The words left her mouth before she even realized how loud she had spoken, and in that instant, an older couple walked past them, their heads turning sharply toward her. The woman gasped, her eyes widening in shock as though she'd just overheard something scandalous.

San caught the reaction out of the corner of his eye and tried his hardest to suppress the laugh bubbling up in his throat. His lips twitched as he glanced back at Y/N, who was blissfully unaware of the couple's disapproval.

"Did... did she just—?" the woman whispered loudly to her husband, her voice brimming with disbelief.

"Yes, I think she did," her husband replied, equally scandalized.

Y/N blinked, realizing something was off. She looked at San with wide eyes, and he nodded subtly toward the retreating couple. When she saw them, her face flushed red in embarrassment.

"Oh, no..." Y/N muttered, clearly mortified. "I didn't mean to—ugh, this is why I shouldn't talk so much."

San bit back a chuckle, raising a hand to his mouth as if clearing his throat. "Come on," he said smoothly, placing a gentle hand on the small of her back to guide her. "Before you scandalize anyone else."

Y/N couldn't help but let out a sheepish giggle as she hurried along beside him. "Right."

As they approached the entrance, Jungwoo was still standing dutifully by the door. He gave a respectful nod to both San and Y/N. "Good night, sir. Miss," he greeted.

"Good night, Jungwoo!" Y/N chimed back cheerfully, waving at him in a way that made San smile. The driver's stoic expression softened ever so slightly at her enthusiastic farewell.

San nodded at Jungwoo before ushering Y/N towards the elevators. She hadn't quite stopped fidgeting, still nervously twisting her coat in her fingers as they walked.

"Stop fidgeting," San said, his tone gentle but firm.

Y/N blinked up at him, momentarily surprised by the command. She opened her mouth to apologize, but instead, she found herself laughing. "Sorry! I didn't even realize I was doing it. It's like a nervous habit or something."

San smiled faintly, though his tone remained steady. "I noticed."

She grinned back at him as they entered the elevator. "You know, for a guy who doesn't talk much, you sure notice a lot."

The elevator doors slid shut, and the gentle hum of the machinery filled the silence. San glanced at her, his eyes flickering with quiet amusement. "I like to observe."

Y/N's grin widened. "So what do you observe about me, huh?"

San chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You talk too much."

Y/N gasped in mock offense, playfully nudging him with her elbow. "Hey! You saved me, remember? The least you could do is pretend you enjoy my rambling."

San's smile deepened, a warmth in his expression that hadn't been there before. "I don't mind it," he said, his voice softer now. "At least it keeps things interesting."

Y/N looked up at him, surprised by the admission, but before she could respond, the elevator dinged, signaling their arrival. She stepped out into the hallway, still buzzing with nervous energy, but now there was a touch of excitement in her eyes.

Y/N stepped out of the elevator, her footsteps light as they moved through the quiet hallway. Her nerves still hummed, but now there was a noticeable shift—an underlying excitement that had taken root. As they reached the end of the hallway, San led her toward a grand set of double doors, and with a slight twist of his wrist, he opened them to reveal the vast expanse of his penthouse.

The moment Y/N crossed the threshold, her eyes widened in disbelief. Her gaze swept across the enormous open living space, the floor-to-ceiling windows framing the city lights in the distance, the pristine furniture that looked like it had been plucked straight from a high-end design magazine, and the endless stretch of the space itself. The room seemed to go on forever, each corner revealing something more extravagant than the last.

"Holy shit!" Y/N blurted out, her voice echoing through the room before she could stop herself. "You could fit a whole school in this place!"

San turned to her, momentarily caught off guard by her outburst. His brows lifted slightly in surprise, though a hint of amusement lingered in his expression. He hadn't expected such an unfiltered reaction, but with Y/N, perhaps he should have known better by now.

He said nothing, simply watching her as she continued to take in the grandeur of the penthouse. There was something refreshing about her genuine amazement, so different from the poised reactions he was used to seeing from others.

Y/N, realizing her own words, glanced sheepishly at him. "Sorry, I... guess I got a little carried away. But seriously, this place is insane! Do you live here alone?"

San merely nodded, his hands casually slipping into his pockets. "Yes. It's quiet. I like it that way."

"Quiet?" Y/N repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief. "How could it not be quiet? You'd have to scream just to be heard on the other side of the room!"

San's lips twitched as if suppressing a smile. "That's not entirely true."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Right. I'm guessing you don't throw a lot of parties in here, huh?"

"Not exactly," San replied, a rare touch of humor in his tone. He turned toward the sleek kitchen area, gesturing subtly. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Yeah, sure," Y/N answered, her eyes still roaming the expansive space in awe. "I'm guessing whatever you have in here is way fancier than the two-dollar wine I usually get."

As San moved toward the kitchen, Y/N continued to take in the penthouse, her wide-eyed curiosity unable to be contained. It wasn't just the sheer size of the place—it was everything about it. The sleek surfaces, the high-end appliances, the subtle but expensive décor. It was a far cry from anything she had ever experienced before.

San opened a cabinet, pulling out a bottle of wine and pouring two glasses. He handed one to Y/N, who took it with a small nod of thanks, still looking somewhat out of place in the lavish surroundings. She eyed the glass cautiously before taking a sip, pleasantly surprised by the smooth taste.

"So," she started, trying to sound casual despite the obvious confusion in her voice, "I still don't really get why I'm here." She glanced over at him, waiting for some sort of explanation. "I mean, I get the whole 'driver showing up' thing and all, but what's the deal? Why'd you bring me here?"

San leaned back against the counter, his expression unreadable as he regarded her. He was silent for a moment, as though considering his answer carefully. "I need a companion," he said at last, his voice steady. "For a few business events happening this week."

Y/N blinked, clearly not expecting that. "A companion?" she echoed, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Like... arm candy or something?"

San's lips quirked into a faint smile, but his eyes remained serious. "In a manner of speaking, yes. These events are important—networking opportunities, meetings with influential people. They require a certain... presence."

Y/N stared at him for a moment, trying to process what he was saying. "So, you're saying you want me to be that presence?" she asked, still somewhat incredulous. "Why me? I'm not exactly the type of girl who mingles with the high and mighty."

San shrugged, his calm demeanor unruffled by her questioning. "You stood out to me," he said simply. "There's something about you that's... different."

Y/N narrowed her eyes slightly, clearly unconvinced. "That's it? You just decided I'm 'different' and figured I'd make a good companion for your fancy events?"

San's smile deepened, but he didn't offer any further explanation. "It's more complicated than that," he said, deftly avoiding the heart of her question. "But I think you'll do just fine."

Y/N opened her mouth to press him further, but something in his gaze stopped her. He wasn't going to elaborate, and for now, it seemed like that was all she was going to get. With a sigh, she leaned back against the kitchen island, swirling her wine in her glass.

"Alright," she said, finally giving in. "I guess I'll roll with it. But don't expect me to suddenly become some glamorous socialite. That's not really my thing."

San's eyes twinkled with amusement. "I'm not asking you to change who you are. Just be yourself."

Y/N raised an eyebrow at that. "You sure about that? Because 'myself' tends to stick out like a sore thumb in places like this."

San met her gaze evenly. "That's precisely why I asked you."

Y/N let out a soft laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "Alright Mister, but how's this gonna work? Do I have to blow you or something to get paid?"

San blinked, momentarily caught off guard by Y/N's bluntness. He hadn't expected her to be so direct, but then again, he was quickly learning that Y/N wasn't the type to shy away from uncomfortable topics. Still, he handled it with the same calm he always carried.

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he set his glass down on the counter. "No," he replied smoothly, his voice steady. "That's not part of the deal."

Y/N looked at him skeptically, leaning against the kitchen island with her arms crossed. "So, you're telling me you just want me to hang out with you, look pretty at some fancy events, and that's it? No strings attached?"

San met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "That's exactly what I'm saying. I'm not asking for anything else from you. You're here for one reason: to be my companion at these events. Nothing more."

Y/N studied him for a moment, as if searching for any sign of deceit in his words. But his expression remained unwavering, his gaze steady. It was almost unsettling how calm and composed he was, like he'd thought this through a hundred times already.

She finally let out a breath, feeling some of her tension melt away. "Alright, then," she said, though there was still a hint of doubt in her voice. "If that's all you want, I guess I can handle that."

San's lips quirked up in the faintest hint of a smile. "Good," he said, pushing himself off the counter and picking up his glass again. "Tell me, how much do you guys usually make?"

Y/N shifted on her feet, her eyes drifting to the floor as she considered his question. It wasn't exactly something she liked talking about, but at this point, everything was already out in the open. She lifted her gaze back to San, her voice casual but tinged with a hint of bitterness. "I typically charge about a hundred an hour."

San nodded thoughtfully, swirling the liquid in his glass as if he were deep in contemplation. "A hundred an hour," he echoed, almost to himself. "Well, I think we can do better than that."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, taken aback by his matter-of-fact tone. "Better than that?" she repeated, unsure if he was being serious or if this was just some kind of joke.

San met her gaze directly. "You're not here for one night," he stated calmly. "This will be for the entire week. I'll pay you for your time, your presence, and your ability to keep up with what will likely be some of the most boring social events you've ever experienced. So... let's make it worth your while."

Y/N blinked, still trying to process what he was offering. "Wait, so how much are we talking about?"

San tilted his head slightly, his eyes calculating for a moment before he spoke. "Let's start with five thousand," he said evenly. "For the week."

Her eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. Five thousand? That was more money than she had ever seen in one place. "Five thousand," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

San nodded, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "Do we have a deal?"

"Before I agree, I at least need to know who you are. I don't even know your name." San's gaze lingered on her for a moment, the intensity in his eyes softening slightly. He realized that amidst all their interactions, he had never properly introduced himself. It was a simple request, but her words reminded him of the strange nature of their encounter.

He set his glass down on the counter and turned to face her fully, extending a hand in a formal gesture. "You're right. I should have started with that." His voice held an air of professionalism, but there was an undertone of warmth that hadn't been there before.

"My name is San," he said, his eyes meeting hers. "Choi San."

Y/N glanced at his outstretched hand for a moment, before reaching out and shaking it, her grip firm but a little hesitant. "Y/N," she replied. "I guess you already knew that."

San smiled faintly. "Yes, but it's good to hear it from you."

She let out a small laugh, pulling her hand back. "Alright, Mr. Choi San. Now that we're formally acquainted, I'll give it a shot." Her expression turned a little more serious, though there was still a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes. "

Y/N's lips parted, her curiosity still bubbling up, but before she could say anything further, a sharp ring cut through the air. San glanced down at his phone, his expression shifting ever so slightly—businesslike and composed.

"Excuse me for a moment," he said, his tone polite but firm. "Make yourself comfortable."

Y/N watched him move to the side, the sudden shift in his demeanor catching her off guard. He walked away with purpose, phone in hand, already engaging in a low conversation. The warmth that had filled the space between them seemed to dissipate for a moment as his focus was pulled elsewhere.

Left standing there, Y/N took a deep breath and glanced around the penthouse again, trying to ease her nerves. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but things felt a bit... surreal. The walls seemed to close in slightly as the reality of the situation set in once again. She was in this world of luxury, where she didn't quite belong, yet here she was.

With a shrug, Y/N wandered over to the plush sofa, sitting down gingerly, feeling the soft fabric under her fingers. She glanced back at San, who was deep in conversation, pacing slightly by the large windows that overlooked the city. Something about him was still an enigma to her, his duality between warmth and aloofness keeping her on edge, but also intrigued.

Not knowing what else to do, she pulled her feet up onto the couch, allowing herself a moment of quiet as she took in the space around her. Her gaze drifted to the art on the walls, the polished furniture, the view beyond the windows. Despite her initial discomfort, there was something oddly calming about the environment.

Y/N exhaled, trying to relax, though she still couldn't shake the sense of wonder that lingered at the edges of her mind. San returned from his phone call, his demeanor relaxed but focused. He looked over at Y/N, who was still seated on the plush sofa, her eyes wandering around the opulent room.

"Have you eaten?" he asked, his tone casual.

Y/N shook her head, a faint hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "No, not yet. I didn't have time before I came here."

San nodded, moving toward a nearby door that presumably led to the bathroom. "I'm going to take a quick shower. Feel free to order anything from room service if you're hungry. It's all on me."

Y/N's eyes widened slightly, her gaze shifting to the small menu card sitting on the coffee table. "Oh, thanks. I might just do that."

San paused, a half-smile tugging at his lips as he looked back at her. "Make yourself at home. I'll be out in a few."

With that, he slipped into the bathroom, the door closing behind him with a soft click. Y/N was left alone in the vast, elegant space, the soft hum of the city outside mingling with the gentle sounds of the penthouse.

She took a moment to herself, considering her options. The menu was extensive, and she felt a pang of hunger as she scanned the offerings. The idea of ordering a meal seemed almost like a luxury she wasn't quite used to, but it was a welcome change from her usual routine.

Deciding to take advantage of the opportunity, Y/N picked up the phone and dialed the number for room service. As she placed her order, she couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and nervousness about the evening ahead.

When she finished, she set the phone down and looked around again, feeling a strange sense of calm settle over her. The penthouse was quiet, and the luxurious surroundings made her feel both at ease and out of place. As she waited for the food, she found herself contemplating the unexpected turn her night had taken and the enigmatic man who had brought her here.

San had just settled into the living area of his penthouse, dressed casually in a short-sleeve shirt and baggy sweatpants. The change from his usual formal attire made him feel more relaxed, but his mind was still occupied with the details of the evening.

He was about to head to the door when the chime of the doorbell interrupted his thoughts. Just as he was about to get up, he heard the distinct sound of running feet and a cheerful shout of "I'll get it!"

Y/N appeared from the hallway, her hair damp and styled loosely, and wrapped in a plush robe that seemed to swallow her whole. The casual look was a stark contrast to her earlier appearance, but it was charming in its own way. San's gaze lingered on her as she hurried to answer the door.

The room service attendant, carrying a cart laden with a selection of dishes and a bottle of champagne, greeted Y/N with a professional nod. Y/N's face lit up with an enthusiastic smile, clearly excited about the meal.

"Hi there!" she said, her voice warm. "This looks amazing!"

San watched with mild amusement as Y/N chatted with the attendant, her robe slightly askew as she gestured towards the food. The attendant glanced around the luxurious penthouse with a hint of curiosity before focusing back on Y/N.

"Where would you like us to put the bottle of champagne?" the attendant asked.

Y/N looked over at San, who had taken a seat on the sofa, observing the scene with an appreciative smile. She raised an eyebrow playfully. "Uh, San, where would you like it?"

San met her gaze, his smile widening slightly. "Just set it on the table, please."

Y/N relayed the instructions to the attendant, who efficiently placed the bottle on the coffee table, then began arranging the food with practiced ease. As the attendant finished setting up, Y/N continued to chat amiably, her enthusiasm for the food evident in her animated expressions.

Once the attendant left, Y/N turned back to San, her face flushed slightly from the exertion. "Thanks," she said, her eyes sparkling with genuine appreciation. "I was starving."

San leaned back, watching her with a thoughtful expression. "You're welcome. I'm glad you're enjoying it."

Y/N moved to the sofa, dropping onto it with a sigh of relief. "I wasn't sure what to expect tonight, but this is definitely a nice surprise. I hope I'm not overstepping my welcome."

San shook his head, the corners of his mouth curving up. "Not at all. I'm glad you're comfortable."

Y/N's eyes lit up as she started to explore the food, her excitement palpable. "I'm definitely taking you up on that. This spread looks incredible!"

San watched her, his gaze lingering as he admired her natural charm and easygoing demeanor. In that moment, he felt a sense of contentment, realizing that having Y/N around was turning out to be a more pleasant experience than he had anticipated.

San's morning had been a whirlwind of back-to-back meetings and tense negotiations. As the hours dragged on, he found himself yearning for a brief respite, something to lift his spirits. In the midst of his busy day, a thought occurred to him—Y/N. He decided to check in on her, if only to break the monotony.

Leaving his office, he strolled over to the receptionist desk, where he picked up the phone and dialed the hotel room he knew Y/N was staying in. He leaned casually against the desk, a small smile playing at his lips as he awaited her response.

The phone rang a few times before Y/N answered, her voice coming through the receiver with a hint of casual nonchalance. "Hello?"

San decided to tease her a bit. "Never answer the phone for anyone."

Y/N scoffed softly. "Good Morning San, what do you want?"

San chuckled lightly, leaning back against the desk as he spoke. "Just checking in. How's your morning been so far?"

Y/N let out a relaxed sigh. "It's been pretty good, actually. I explored a bit and got used to the place. And you? Still drowning in meetings, I assume?"

San's expression softened. "You're not wrong. It's been one of those days. But hearing your voice is a nice change."

Y/N laughed lightly, a sound that lifted San's spirits even more. "Well, I'm glad I can be of service. So, what's up?"

"Just wanted to let you know that I left my card on the dining table," San said. "Feel free to use it for shopping today. We've got a formal dinner tonight, and I thought you might like to pick out something nice."

Y/N's voice brightened at the suggestion. "Wow, really? That's so thoughtful of you. Thanks, Mr. Choi."

San grinned. "Of course. Enjoy your shopping."

After hanging up, San's mood had notably improved. He felt lighter, more energized. As he returned to his office, he glanced at his receptionist, who was watching him with a hint of curiosity.

"I need you to call the hotel room again," San instructed, his tone light but purposeful.

The receptionist nodded, picking up the phone and beginning to dial. Just as the call was connecting, one of San's coworkers approached with a stack of documents.

"Mr. Choi, the meeting is about to start," the coworker said, glancing at his watch.

San held up a hand, his expression focused. "I'm in the middle of a very important call."

The coworker gave him a puzzled look but stepped away, leaving San to his call. The phone rang a few times before Y/N's voice came through again.

"Hello?" Y/N answered, sounding slightly amused.

San's tone took on a mock-serious edge. "I thought I said not to answer the phone anymore."

Y/N's laughter was evident in her response. "Well then stop calling me!"

San's smile widened at her playful retort. "Fair enough. Enjoy your day, Y/N."

"Thanks again," Y/N replied, her voice warm and genuine. "And don't worry, I'll make sure not to answer the phone again. Unless it's you, of course."

San chuckled, shaking his head as he ended the call. He turned back to his coworker, who was watching him with a raised eyebrow.

"Ready for the meeting?" San asked, the earlier tension in his demeanor replaced by a newfound sense of ease.

His coworker nodded, and together they headed toward the meeting room. Despite the busy day ahead, San felt a renewed sense of optimism, buoyed by the light-hearted interaction with Y/N.

Y/N hung up the phone, her face still lit up by the playful conversation she'd just had. As she moved away from the phone, her eyes fell on the dining table where San's card lay in plain sight. She approached it, her fingers grazing the elegant script embossed on the surface.

The card was sleek and simple—black with silver lettering. It had San's name and contact details neatly printed, along with a generous credit limit. Y/N couldn't help but admire the opulence of it all. She picked it up, turning it over in her hands as if it were a precious artifact.

Her thoughts drifted to San's earlier offer. She was both excited and a bit apprehensive about the shopping spree he had suggested. On one hand, it was an opportunity to dress up for the evening and perhaps blend in with the high society that seemed so foreign to her. On the other, it was a reminder of just how different her world was from his.

Determined to make the most of it, she decided to start her day with some retail therapy. Y/N quickly got dressed, opting for something comfortable yet stylish enough for a shopping trip. After a quick glance in the mirror to make sure she looked presentable, she grabbed her phone and the key card to the hotel suite before heading out.

The hotel's lobby, with its glittering chandeliers and polished floors, greeted her once again. This time, she was more composed, but the awe she felt was still evident in her wide eyes. As she walked toward the front desk, she noticed the hotel staff moving around with practiced efficiency. She couldn't help but smile at how everything seemed so perfectly orchestrated.

Y/N approached the concierge desk, where a young woman with a friendly smile awaited her. "Hi, I'm looking to pick up some recommendations for shopping. Could you help me with that?"

The concierge nodded enthusiastically. "Of course! We have some wonderful boutiques and high-end shops nearby. Would you prefer something more classic or trendy?"

Y/N's eyes twinkled with excitement. "Surprise me! I'm open to anything."

The concierge handed her a brochure with a list of recommended stores and pointed out a few key locations. "Here's a list of places you might enjoy. They're all within walking distance."

Y/N thanked her and headed out, clutching the brochure tightly. The day was shaping up to be an adventure, and she was eager to dive into the world of luxury shopping.

As she walked down the bustling streets, she marveled at the high-end shops and their elaborate window displays. Her mind buzzed with possibilities, imagining the various outfits she could choose for the evening.

She decided to start at the most luxurious boutique on the list, where the displays were an art form in themselves.  Y/N entered the boutique, the plush carpet underfoot and the faint scent of luxury surrounding her. The store was everything she had imagined: sleek, elegant, and filled with high-end garments that sparkled under the soft lighting. Her heart raced with excitement as she made her way past rows of designer dresses and tailored suits, each more exquisite than the last.

She was still in awe of the place, taking in the details—the rich fabrics, the intricate designs, the careful arrangement of accessories. Y/N felt like she was in a different world, one that was both mesmerizing and intimidating.

As she browsed through the racks, she couldn't help but notice the occasional sideways glance from the shop staff. Their subtle expressions ranged from puzzled to dismissive, and it was clear they weren't used to someone like her wandering through their pristine aisles.

Y/N tried to ignore the looks, focusing instead on the clothes and the thrill of trying on something new. She picked out a stunning dress—a deep, midnight blue number with delicate beading along the neckline. It felt like a perfect choice for the evening.

When she finally made her way to the fitting rooms, she had high hopes that this would be her chance to feel truly transformed. But when she emerged from the fitting room, feeling more confident in the dress, she realized she needed it in a different size.

With a hopeful smile, Y/N approached one of the sales associates—a tall, impeccably dressed woman who seemed to be in charge. She held up the dress and asked, "Excuse me, do you have this in a size smaller? I also noticed it didn't have the tag on it, could you tell me the price?"

The sales associate looked her up and down with a mixture of disdain and disinterest. "Oh, you probably won't be able to afford it," she said, her tone dripping with condescension. "Maybe you should try another shop further down the road."

Y/N's face flushed with embarrassment and hurt. She had hoped to find something beautiful for the evening, but instead, she was met with a judgment that stung deeply. She tried to muster a polite smile, but her spirit was already deflated.

"Thank you," Y/N said quietly, turning away from the associate. She felt her heart sink as she walked away, the weight of the encounter pulling her down. The boutique that had once seemed like a wonderland now felt like a cruel reminder of the gap between her world and this one.

The experience had shattered her earlier excitement. She left the store with a heavy heart, the brochure clutched in her hand now feeling like a burden. As she walked down the street, the luxury of the shops seemed to mock her, a world she felt she could never truly belong to.

Y/N strode through the luxurious lobby of the hotel, her pace quick and determined. The high ceilings and opulent decor only made her feel more out of place, but she was focused on reaching the elevator. The polished marble floor seemed to echo her footsteps, and she tried to ignore the lingering looks from the staff. Her mind was still spinning from the unpleasant encounter at the boutique, and she just wanted to get back to her room.

Seonghwa, the hotel manager, stood near the open door of his office, watching her with a keen eye. As Y/N approached, he moved with purpose, intercepting her with practiced ease.

"Excuse me, miss. May I help you?" Seonghwa's voice was smooth but firm, his gaze scrutinizing.

Y/N, her eyes fixed ahead, barely slowed her pace. "I'm going to my room," she said, her tone carrying a note of impatience.

"Uh, do you have a key?" Seonghwa asked, stepping closer.

Y/N halted, turning to face him with a sigh. "Oh. I forgot that cardboard thing. I'm on the top floor," she said, gesturing vaguely.

Seonghwa's brows knitted together. "You're a guest here?"

"I'm with a friend," Y/N replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

"And who would that be?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment. "San... oh, uh, Choi. Choi San."

Seonghwa's expression shifted to one of skepticism. "Mr. Choi?"

Y/N started to move toward the elevator again, but Seonghwa was quick to follow, placing a hand gently but firmly on her elbow. "Oh, God! What now? What? What?" she muttered, her frustration evident as she was guided away from the elevator.

Seonghwa's demeanor remained calm, but his tone was assertive. "No, no. It's all right. Just come with me. We'll have a little chat." He led her behind the reception desk and into his office, her shoulders slumping slightly as she followed.

The office was neatly arranged, with a green plant sitting in a metal pot by the window. The sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting soft patterns on the carpet. Seonghwa walked over to the plant and began watering it, his movements deliberate. "Uh, what is your name, miss?" he asked as he put the watering can aside.

"Y/N," she said quietly.

"Thank you. Y/N," Seonghwa replied, placing the pot down on the desk and taking a seat on the edge, facing her directly.

"Well, Miss Y/N," Seonghwa began, his tone softening but still authoritative. "Things that go on in other hotels don't happen here. Now, Mr. Choi is a very special customer, and we like to think of our special customers as friends. As a customer, we would expect Mr. Choi to sign in any additional guests. But as a friend, we're willing to overlook it. I'm assuming that you're a..." Seonghwa bent his head slightly, and Y/N mimicked the gesture, her voice barely above a whisper as she replied.

"Relative," she said, her voice tinged with shame.

"Mm-hmmm. I thought so. Then you must be his... cousin," Seonghwa continued, maintaining the same tone.

Y/N nodded, her gaze dropping as she felt the weight of the situation. "Yes," she confirmed.

"Of course. Naturally, when Mr. Choi leaves, I won't see you in this hotel again. I assume you have no other relatives here?"

Y/N shook her head, looking weary. "No, I don't."

"Good. Then we understand each other." Seonghwa's tone was more conciliatory now. "I would also encourage you... to dress a little more appropriately. That'll be all."

Y/N's frustration boiled over. She threw her hands up, her voice rising. "No, that's not all. That's what I was trying to do! I went out to get a dress today, and the women at the store wouldn't help me. And I have all this money now and no dress! Not that I expect you to help me, but I have to buy a dress for dinner tonight. And nobody will help me!"

Seonghwa's expression softened slightly. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket, pulling out a white handkerchief. He handed it to Y/N with a small, sympathetic nod. "Here. Use this."

Y/N took the handkerchief, loudly blowing her nose in a mixture of relief and frustration. Seonghwa walked back to his desk and picked up the telephone.

"Oh, man, if you're calling the cops... You know what, yeah, call the cops. That's great. Tell 'em I said hi," Y/N muttered, still miffed.

Seonghwa didn't seem fazed. "Women's clothing," he said into the phone, his voice calm and authoritative. "Hongjoong, please."

Y/N glanced up, a mix of surprise and hope in her eyes. "Hongjoong?"

Seonghwa continued speaking into the phone, detailing Y/N's situation. "Yes, Hongjoong. Hello. This is Park Seonghwa here at the hotel..... Well, thank you. Yes, but I'd like you to do a favor for me, please. I'm sending someone over. Her name is Y/N. She's a special guest. She's the cousin of a very special guest."

As Seonghwa ended the call, he looked at Y/N with a reassuring smile. "You'll have someone to help you find a dress shortly."

Y/N nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and lingering anxiety. "Thank you. I really appreciate it."

Seonghwa gave a nod of acknowledgment. "You're welcome. And try to stay calm. We'll get this sorted out."

With that, Y/N left the office, feeling a bit more hopeful. She headed back to the lobby, ready to wait for Hongjoong and hopeful that the day would end on a positive note after all.

Later in the day, the luxurious ambiance of the hotel lobby buzzed with activity. The sun was casting a warm, golden glow through the high windows. Y/N, now feeling a bit more refreshed and composed, settled into one of the plush armchairs by the reception area. The comforting hum of the lobby's ambiance was a stark contrast to her earlier frustration.

Her phone buzzed with an incoming call, and Y/N saw it was from San. She took a deep breath, trying to push aside the remnants of her earlier worries. She answered with a cheerful, if slightly forced, tone.

"Hello?"

"Y/N," San's voice came through, smooth and warm. "How's the shopping going? Did you find a dress?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, memories of the boutique's cold reception still fresh. But she decided to keep her frustration to herself, not wanting to dampen the mood. "Oh, actually, yes! I found a really nice dress. It's perfect."

"Really?" San's voice held a note of genuine interest. "I'm glad to hear that. I was worried you might have trouble finding something."

Y/N smiled, relieved to have diverted the conversation from her earlier difficulties. "No trouble at all. I think you'll like it."

"Excellent," San said with satisfaction. "I'll come by to pick you up around six o'clock then. Be ready by then, alright?"

"Got it," Y/N replied, her spirits lifting at the prospect of spending the evening with San. "I'll be ready."

"Great. See you soon," San said before ending the call.

Y/N set her phone down and leaned back in the chair, allowing herself a moment of relaxation. The brief conversation with San had lifted her spirits, and she felt a renewed sense of excitement for the evening ahead. The day's earlier frustrations began to fade, replaced by anticipation for the night's events.

As she prepared for her evening out, she felt a mix of nerves and excitement. The luxury of the dress and the promise of a pleasant evening with San were the highlights of her day. With a final glance at the clock, Y/N began to get ready, determined to make the most of the evening.

San strode into the opulent hotel lobby, his sharp suit slightly rumpled from a meeting that had run longer than anticipated. The grandeur of the space seemed to dim slightly as his gaze swept across the seating area, searching for Y/N. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he was about to pull it out to call Y/N when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned, half-expecting to see a hotel staff member, but instead was greeted by Y/N's familiar voice.

"You're late," she said with a playful lilt.

San's eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of her. She looked stunning, the dress she had chosen clinging to her figure in all the right ways, the deep color contrasting beautifully with her skin. Her hair was styled simply but elegantly, and her makeup accentuated her features without overwhelming them.

He managed a smile, momentarily caught off guard by her appearance. "I'm sorry about that. The meeting ran over. You look fantastic."

Y/N beamed at the compliment, her eyes sparkling with a mix of relief and excitement. "Thanks. I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me."

San chuckled softly. "I wouldn't forget. I was just held up longer than I expected. But now that I'm here, let's get going."

Y/N nodded, and San extended his arm towards her in a gentlemanly gesture. She took it with a smile, and they began to make their way towards the exit. As they walked through the lobby, San glanced over at her, his curiosity piqued.

"So," he said, "how did the rest of your day go? You seemed a bit frazzled earlier."

Y/N gave a small shrug, trying to play down her earlier frustration. "It was... a bit of a rollercoaster. But I'm just glad we're finally heading out."

San nodded in understanding. "Well, I'm glad you found a dress you're happy with."

They continued towards the hotel's grand entrance, the crisp evening air welcoming them as they stepped outside. San guided Y/N to the sleek car waiting by the curb, the driver already standing by with the door open.

As they settled into the car, the interior's luxury cocooned them, offering a momentary escape from the day's earlier stresses. San turned his attention to Y/N, his expression relaxed and attentive.

"So," he said, his tone lighter, "any particular plans or places you've been dying to visit?"

Y/N looked out the window, the city lights reflecting in her eyes. "Not really. I'm just excited to enjoy the evening and see where the night takes us."

San smiled, feeling a sense of anticipation himself. "Sounds perfect."

With that, the car pulled away from the hotel, carrying them towards the evening's destination, the promise of an enjoyable night ahead hanging in the air.

The sleek car came to a smooth stop in front of a luxurious restaurant, its grandeur evident in the elegant façade and the soft glow of ambient lighting that cascaded over the entrance. San stepped out first, holding the door open for Y/N, who followed with a graceful step onto the polished stone path leading up to the restaurant.

San adjusted his suit jacket and offered a reassuring smile. "Alright, here's the rundown for tonight. We're meeting with Min Yoongi, a potential business partner. He's quite the tough nut to crack—very discerning and reserved. The dinner is crucial for our negotiations, and I need you to help me make a positive impression."

Y/N nodded, her eyes scanning the impressive exterior of the restaurant. "Got it. What exactly do you need me to do?"

San glanced around, ensuring their arrival hadn't drawn undue attention. "I need you to help keep the atmosphere lively and engaging. Yoongi can be a bit standoffish, so it's important to create an environment where he feels comfortable and willing to open up. Be yourself, and don't hesitate to bring some energy to the table."

Y/N grinned, feeling a surge of confidence. "Sounds like a plan. I'll do my best."

San led her towards the entrance, where a well-dressed host greeted them with a warm smile. After a brief exchange, they led them inside, past the bustling dining area filled with clinking glasses and murmurs of conversation. The restaurant exuded sophistication, with its rich, dark wood paneling and soft, ambient lighting casting a warm glow over the tables.

They arrived at a semi-private dining area, set apart from the main floor by a discreet partition adorned with lush greenery. At the table, Min Yoongi was already seated, his posture relaxed but his expression carefully neutral. He looked up as San and Y/N approached, his gaze flicking over Y/N with a hint of curiosity.

San offered a friendly smile and extended a hand. "Yoongi, it's good to see you. This is Y/N, a good friend of mine. Y/N, this is Min Yoongi."

Yoongi shook San's hand first, then turned his attention to Y/N, offering a polite nod. "Nice to meet you, Y/N."

Y/N smiled warmly, her demeanor friendly yet poised. "It's a pleasure, Mr. Min. I've heard great things about you."

Yoongi inclined his head slightly, his eyes lingering on Y/N for a moment before he glanced at San. "Thank you. I'm looking forward to the evening."

San gestured for Y/N to take the seat next to Yoongi, while he settled into his own chair. The dinner began with light conversation, the initial exchanges polite but somewhat formal. As the evening progressed, Y/N made an effort to weave into the conversation, her lively energy providing a welcome contrast to the otherwise reserved atmosphere.

She spoke with enthusiasm about various topics, from recent trends to intriguing anecdotes, her genuine interest and charisma slowly drawing Yoongi out of his shell. San watched with a mixture of relief and satisfaction as Yoongi's demeanor began to shift, his responses becoming more engaged and animated.

By the time the main course was served, the conversation had become more relaxed and engaging, with Yoongi participating more openly. San occasionally exchanged knowing glances with Y/N, appreciating her ability to bring a sense of warmth and approachability to the table.

As the evening continued, the atmosphere at the table became more congenial. San felt a sense of optimism about the potential outcomes of the meeting, grateful for Y/N's invaluable contribution to the evening's success.

As they arrived back at the penthouse, the atmosphere was noticeably lighter, the evening's successful negotiation casting a glow over both San and Y/N. The luxurious elevator ride to the top floor seemed to pass in moments, San's mood visibly buoyed by the evening's success.

Stepping into the penthouse, Y/N kicked off her shoes and shook off the last of the evening's formalities. The expansive space felt even more welcoming in the soft light of the late hour, the grandeur of the earlier day now settling into a cozy elegance.

San moved with a renewed sense of ease, his earlier intensity replaced by a relaxed confidence. He made a beeline for the living area and pulled out his phone, quickly placing an order for a bottle of champagne. The sound of his voice, usually so authoritative, now carried a hint of elation.

Y/N watched him with a laugh, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Look at you, grinning like a Cheshire cat. You must be pretty pleased with how the night went."

San chuckled, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "You have no idea. That went better than I could've hoped for. Yoongi was actually quite receptive, thanks to your help."

Y/N's laughter was light and infectious. "I'm just glad I could help. I'll admit, I was a bit nervous at first, but it turned out to be fun. And it looks like you're enjoying the victory!"

San waved a hand dismissively, though his smile didn't waver. "It's not every day you have a successful business dinner. Plus, you were fantastic tonight. Couldn't have done it without you."

As he placed the phone back into his pocket, he caught Y/N's eye and winked. "Now, let's celebrate a little. How does champagne sound?"

Y/N grinned, her earlier fatigue forgotten in the warmth of the evening's success. "Champagne sounds perfect."

San poured two flutes, the bubbles rising swiftly to the top. He handed one to Y/N, raising his glass in a toast. "To a successful evening and to great company."

Y/N clinked her glass against his, her smile broad and genuine. "Cheers to that."

They settled into the plush seating area, the clinking of their glasses and the faint pop of the champagne adding a celebratory note to the room. The ambiance of the penthouse, paired with the relief of a successful negotiation, created a moment of relaxed luxury.

San settled comfortably beside Y/N, the earlier tension of the night melting away. As he sipped from his glass, his gaze softened, his eyes never leaving hers. "I really have to thank you again, Y/N. You were absolutely incredible tonight."

Y/N's cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment, but she couldn't suppress the pleased smile that curved her lips. "Thank you, San. I'm glad I could help."

San leaned in a bit, his voice warm and genuine. "No, seriously. You were amazing. Not only did you look stunning tonight—" he glanced at her with admiration, "—but you also handled the whole situation with such grace. I was genuinely impressed by how effortlessly you adapted. It made a world of difference."

Y/N laughed softly, a hint of modesty in her tone. "Well, I had a great teacher. You made it easy to feel at ease."

San shook his head, still smiling. "It's not just that. You were a natural. The way you engaged with everyone, how you kept the atmosphere lively—it was like you were born for it. And that dress was perfect."

Her heart fluttered at his words, and she looked down, toying with the rim of her glass. "You're making me blush. But I really did enjoy the evening. It was something different."

San's gaze softened further, his eyes reflecting the genuine appreciation he felt. "Well, I'm glad you did. And you know, you don't have to do this just for tonight. If you ever want to join me for any future events—or just for a good conversation—I'd be more than happy to have you around."

Y/N met his gaze, a warm smile spreading across her face. "I'd like that. Thank you for the offer."

As they continued to chat, the conversation flowed effortlessly, the champagne enhancing the ease between them. San's compliments and Y/N's laughter filled the room, creating an intimate and enjoyable end to their evening. The luxurious surroundings seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of them and their shared sense of connection and accomplishment.

San and Y/N continued to bask in the afterglow of their successful evening, their conversation a blend of easy laughter and heartfelt compliments. As the champagne glasses were emptied and the conversation began to lull, a comfortable silence settled over them.

San leaned back, his gaze fixed on Y/N with a soft, appreciative smile. "You know," he said, his tone taking on a more intimate quality, "tonight wouldn't have been the same without you." 

Y/N's eyes met his, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away. She felt a flutter in her chest, a mix of warmth and anticipation. "I'm glad I could be a part of it," she replied, her voice just above a whisper.

An idea sparked in her mind, and a playful yet determined glint appeared in her eyes. "Actually, I have an idea," she said, her tone light but tinged with purpose.

San raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And what might that be?"

Without waiting for a response, Y/N shifted closer and straddled his lap, her movements confident but tender. She settled herself comfortably, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders. "You've done so many nice things for me tonight," she said, her voice soft but firm. "And I want to pay you back."

San's smile widened, his hands instinctively finding her waist to steady her. "You don't have to do anything, Y/N. What you did for me at dinner was more than enough."

Y/N shook her head, her gaze steady and sincere. "It's not about your business, San. It's about what I want to do for you."

There was a moment of stillness between them, charged with unspoken emotions. Y/N's heart raced as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his. The kiss was gentle at first, exploratory, but quickly deepened as she pressed closer, her hands finding their way to the back of his neck.

San responded with a warmth that matched the intensity of her kiss, his hands moving to cup her face as he pulled her gently against him. The kiss became a dance of emotions, each movement a reflection of the connection they had forged throughout the evening.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads rested against each other's, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them. Y/N's eyes fluttered open to meet his, a shy smile playing on her lips. "I've been wanting to do that," she said softly, her voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and contentment.

San's smile was tender, his eyes filled with affection. "I'm glad you did," he said, his thumb gently brushing her cheek. 

They lingered in the moment, savoring the closeness and the warmth between them. The world outside seemed distant, their focus solely on each other. The silence was comfortable, filled with unspoken promises and shared emotions.

After a few moments, San's eyes sparkled with a playful glint. He broke the silence with a cheeky comment. "You know... I did do a lot of nice things for you recently. I think I'm going to need more payment."

Y/N's laughter bubbled up, a bright and genuine sound that warmed the room. "Oh, really? Is that so?"

San's smile widened, his gaze playful yet sincere. "Definitely. I think you owe me a bit more."

Without missing a beat, Y/N leaned in again, her lips meeting his in another kiss. This time, it was more intense, charged with a deeper passion. Her hands slid up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, while San's arms wrapped around her, drawing her firmly against him.

The kiss was a mingling of heat and tenderness, their movements synchronizing with an unspoken rhythm. San's lips moved against hers with a fervent urgency, as if savoring every moment, every touch. Y/N's response was equally fervent, her body pressing into his, their breaths quickening.

The intensity of the kiss grew, becoming a dance of passion and desire. Their movements became more insistent, more eager. The space between them seemed to shrink until it was almost non-existent, each touch and caress deepening the connection they felt. The room around them faded, leaving just the two of them lost in their shared moment.

Y/N woke up to the soft caress of morning light filtering through the curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. Her eyes fluttered open, slowly adjusting to the new day. She shifted slightly, becoming acutely aware of the warmth and weight of San's arm wrapped securely around her waist. His legs were intertwined with hers, creating a cocoon of shared warmth.

The sensation of his steady breathing against her neck sent a delightful shiver down her spine, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest both comforting and intimate. As she turned her head slightly to face him, the early sunlight kissed his face, highlighting the relaxed features softened in slumber. His hair fell across his forehead, a few stray strands brushing against his brow.

Y/N couldn't help but smile, her heart swelling with affection. She carefully reached up and tenderly swept the hair away from his face, her fingers grazing his skin in the process. "He sleeps," she whispered softly, her voice a tender murmur meant only for him.

San's breathing was deep and even, his expression serene. The way the morning sun highlighted his features made him look almost ethereal, a calm and perfect moment encapsulated in the quiet of the morning.

Y/N savored this tranquil moment, a gentle contentment filling her as she lay there, wrapped in the comfort of both the morning and San's embrace.

San's phone buzzed insistently on the bedside table, breaking the serene silence of the early morning. The vibration seemed almost intrusive against the peaceful cocoon of warmth and closeness Y/N had found herself enveloped in.

San's eyelids fluttered open, his peaceful expression shifting to one of groggy realization as the ringtone grew more persistent. He stirred, his arm gently slipping away from Y/N's waist as he reached for the offending phone.

"Mmm..." he murmured, his voice rough with sleep as he fumbled for the device. The sunlight continued to bathe the room in a golden glow, adding a soft halo effect to his tousled hair and sleepy eyes.

Y/N, feeling the shift in the atmosphere, tried to ease herself back into a comfortable position. She turned onto her side, attempting to find solace in the residual warmth San had left behind.

San finally managed to answer the call, his voice still heavy with sleep. "Hello?" he said, his tone a mix of irritation and drowsiness.

The conversation on the other end was muffled and distant to Y/N, but it was clear from San's responses that it was work-related. He mumbled a few affirmations, his focus clearly shifting away from the intimate moment they had shared.

Realizing that San was now fully awake and engaged in business, Y/N sat up slowly, pulling the sheets around her. She glanced over at him, her expression a mix of amusement and reluctance to leave the comfort of their shared space.

San ended the call and placed the phone back on the table with a sigh, his eyes meeting Y/N's with a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Work never seems to respect personal time."

Y/N smiled softly, her heart warmed by his disheveled charm. "It's alright," she said, her voice gentle. "I was just enjoying the morning."

San's gaze lingered on her with a tender affection. He shifted closer, the warmth of his body inviting. "I hate mornings," he murmured, his tone almost wistful as he wrapped his arms around her once more.

Y/N snuggled back into his embrace, savoring the intimacy of the moment. The bed seemed to cocoon them in a world apart from the outside. San's arms felt secure around her, and his soft breaths against her neck added a soothing rhythm to the quiet morning.

He tilted her face gently towards him, his eyes searching hers with a soft intensity. Without a word, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, lingering kiss. The contact was tender at first, but it deepened as the moment stretched, each kiss a silent testament to their shared affection and the newness of their closeness.

Y/N closed her eyes, losing herself in the sensation, her fingers resting lightly on San's chest. The kiss was a blend of warmth and promise, a shared heartbeat in the quiet of the morning.

Eventually, with a gentle push, Y/N broke the kiss, her eyes meeting his with a playful glint. "Don't you need to get ready for work?" she asked, her voice a mix of teasing and genuine concern.

San's smile was soft and relaxed. "I don't need to go in until later," he said, his tone almost as if he were reluctant to leave their cozy bubble. "I'd much rather spend this time with you."

Y/N chuckled, her heart swelling with affection. "Well, in that case, I suppose I can stay a little longer," she said, settling back into his embrace. 

As they lay together, San's fingers gently caressed Y/N's skin, his lips planting soft, lingering kisses on her neck. His touch was soothing, and the intimacy of the moment deepened with each affectionate gesture.

"Tomorrow should be fun," San murmured against her skin. "Yoongi's invited us to this horse racing event. We'll need to dress up a bit more, though. You might need to go shopping again."

Y/N's mood shifted slightly as she recalled her last shopping experience. "Oh, really? The last time I went out, they were quite rude to me."

San's fingers paused in their gentle exploration, his expression turning serious. He pulled back slightly to look at her, his eyes searching hers. "They what?"

Y/N met his gaze, sensing the sudden tension. "Yeah, they treated me like I didn't belong there. I just don't wanna deal with that again."

San's expression hardened, a flicker of anger crossing his face. "That's unacceptable," he said firmly. "No one should ever make you feel like that. Why didn't you tell me?"

Y/N's eyes softened at his protective tone, touched by his concern. "I just didn't want to make a big deal out of it."

San shook his head, his expression softening but still resolute. "No, it's not okay. I'll take care of it. You deserve to be treated with respect, no matter where you go."

He leaned in and pressed a comforting kiss to her forehead. "We'll find a better place for shopping, and I'll make sure of it." Y/N nodded, feeling reassured by his support. She nestled back into his arms, grateful for his understanding. 

"San, maybe we should just go back home. Really, it wasn't a big deal," Y/N said softly as they walked up to the entrance of the upscale boutique. Her hand rested lightly on his arm, trying to downplay the discomfort that lingered from her last shopping trip.

San glanced at her, his brows knitting together slightly. "No," he replied firmly but with a gentle tone. "You deserve to feel good when you shop, and you deserve to be treated right." He placed his hand over hers reassuringly. Y/N exhaled softly and nodded. She appreciated how San always seemed to know what to say to comfort her. Together, they stepped through the door of the boutique.

Immediately, several of the store's employees took notice of San. Their eyes widened with recognition, and within moments, a few of them rushed forward with welcoming smiles, eager to assist. "Mr. Choi! What a pleasure to have you here. How can we assist you today?" one of the women chirped, practically fawning over him.

San smiled politely but quickly redirected their attention. "Thank you, but we're shopping for her actually. You see, she's very important to me, and she needs a few outfits for the week. I'd appreciate it if you could give her the attention she deserves."

The employees' gazes shifted to Y/N, their demeanor subtly adjusting. The sudden shift in attitude was obvious, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a bit awkward under their scrutiny. But with San beside her, she stood a little taller, finding comfort in his presence.

"Of course," the woman said, smiling warmly at Y/N now. "We'll make sure you find something perfect. Here, take a seat and we'll pull some pieces for you."

San gave Y/N an encouraging nod, his hand lightly squeezing hers. "Take your time," he said softly. "Anything you need, we'll make sure you have it."

Y/N smiled up at him, her heart fluttering with gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered before turning her attention to the store, feeling a renewed sense of confidence. This time, things would be different, and it was all because of San.

As Y/N sifted through racks of elegant clothing, the employees diligently pulled out dresses, blouses, and skirts, eager to present her with the best of what they had to offer. They were attentive and eager to please, showing her pieces of every style and color. Y/N, though trying to focus, couldn't help but occasionally glance toward San.

He stood a little further back in the store, his phone glued to his ear as he juggled work calls and glanced over documents he'd brought with him. Despite his distraction, every few minutes, he'd look up, meeting Y/N's gaze as she tried on different outfits. When she caught his eye, she'd gesture towards the clothing with a subtle motion, silently asking his opinion.

Some outfits earned a simple shake of his head, others got a nod of approval. A few earned a raised eyebrow, and occasionally, a hint of a smile tugged at his lips as their silent communication flowed seamlessly. Y/N felt a warmth in her chest whenever their eyes connected, a quiet reassurance in the midst of the boutique's bustling energy.

The boutique's manager, clearly aware of San's presence and status, made several attempts to approach him. Each time she sidled up to him with offers of coffee, praise for his taste, and promises of exclusive deals, she seemed more focused on impressing him than helping Y/N.

After the third or fourth attempt, San, now slightly irritated, put down his phone mid-call. His gaze, though composed, was sharp as he looked at the manager. "It's her whose ass you need to kiss, not mine," he said plainly, nodding toward Y/N, who was engrossed in the selection in front of her.

The manager blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting the blunt comment, but quickly composed herself, offering a flustered but polite smile before scurrying back toward Y/N with renewed enthusiasm.

San picked up his phone again, his expression softening as he watched Y/N for a moment longer before returning to his business matters. As San scrolled through yet another email on his phone, his screen lit up with an incoming call from Sung-Ho, his assistant. He sighed and answered, already suspecting what the conversation would be about.

"San," Sung-Ho's voice came through, direct as always. "I hate to interrupt, but you're needed at the office before we can officially wrap up for the day. There's been a minor complication with the new acquisition deal."

San pinched the bridge of his nose, glancing over at Y/N, who was now trying on a deep emerald gown that perfectly accentuated her figure. He could tell from the way she admired herself in the mirror that she liked this one. She caught his eye again, gesturing for his opinion. He smiled, giving her an appreciative nod before turning back to the phone.

"Alright, I'll be there soon," San replied, trying to keep his tone calm, though there was a flicker of frustration. He ended the call and slipped his phone into his pocket before walking over to where Y/N stood, still examining herself in the gown. He reached out and gently touched her arm to get her attention.

"Hey," San said softly, giving her a small smile. "I need to head to the office for a bit. Something came up, but I'll pick you up in a little while, okay?"

Y/N turned to face him, her expression shifting from surprise to understanding. "Oh, okay," she replied, a hint of disappointment in her tone, though she quickly masked it with a smile.

San reached into his jacket and pulled out his sleek black card, handing it to her. "Here," he said, "take your time and pick whatever you want. Don't hold back, alright? And if you need anything at all—anything—just let them know. I've already made it clear that they should take care of you."

Y/N took the card from his hand, feeling the weight of it between her fingers. She looked up at him, warmth in her eyes. "Thank you," she said, her voice soft but sincere.

San turned to the manager, his expression shifting back to serious business. "Make sure she gets everything she wants," he instructed firmly, "and I mean everything."

The manager nodded eagerly, clearly flustered and eager to please. "Of course, Mr. Choi. We'll take excellent care of her."

San shot one last affectionate glance at Y/N before heading toward the exit. "I won't be long," he promised. "See you soon."

As he left, Y/N watched him go, a smile tugging at her lips. Despite the interruption, she couldn't help but appreciate how San made sure she was well taken care of. 

San and Y/N arrived at the horse racing field, the buzz of excitement in the air as people milled about, enjoying the lively atmosphere. Arm in arm, they walked past the entrance, their presence drawing attention from onlookers who whispered about the handsome businessman and the stunning woman at his side.

San, dressed in a tailored suit that perfectly accentuated his broad shoulders and confident stature, looked down at Y/N with a soft smile as they strolled together. Y/N, equally captivating in her new dress, moved with elegance and poise, her arm linked with his, making them appear every bit the powerful couple.

The field stretched out before them, lush green and vibrant under the afternoon sun. Colorful jockeys and sleek thoroughbreds paraded around in preparation for the race. The grandstands were packed with spectators, their chatter and laughter blending with the distant sound of galloping horses.

San leaned down slightly to speak to Y/N over the din of the crowd. "It's quite the scene, huh? I don't think I've been to one of these in years."

Y/N smiled, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's incredible," she replied, her voice filled with awe as she took in the grand spectacle around them. "I've never seen anything like this."

As they walked toward the VIP section, San's grip on her arm tightened slightly, a subtle sign of his protectiveness in the midst of the bustling crowd. They made their way through the people with ease, heads turning as they passed, but the two of them were wrapped up in their own world, the noise around them fading into a distant hum.

When they reached the exclusive seating area, San pulled out a chair for Y/N before taking his own seat beside her. The excitement of the upcoming race and the thrill of being there together settled over them, but there was also a certain quietness, a sense that they were enjoying just being in each other's presence.

As San and Y/N settled into their seats, the sound of footsteps approaching caught their attention. San looked up to see Sung-Ho, one of his most trusted associates, making his way toward them with a broad smile on his face. Beside him was a woman, elegantly dressed, her delicate features framed by soft waves of dark hair. She seemed the picture of poise and innocence, her eyes sparkling as she approached.

"San!" Sung-Ho called out, extending his hand for a firm handshake. "It's good to see you here. I didn't know you were a fan of the races."

San stood up, returning the handshake with a polite smile. "It's been a while, but Mr. Min invited us to join him," he replied smoothly, his tone warm yet measured. His eyes flicked briefly to the woman at Sung-Ho's side before returning to his associate.

Sung-Ho noticed the subtle glance and quickly gestured to his companion. "San, you remember my wife, Min-ji," he said with a light laugh.

Min-ji offered a graceful nod, her smile sweet and unassuming. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Choi. Sung-Ho always speaks so highly of you."

"The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Han," San responded politely, though his tone remained professional. He then turned slightly to include Y/N in the conversation. "Here, let me introduce you. This here is Y/N," he introduced, a touch of pride in his voice as he mentioned her name.

Y/N offered a warm smile and a polite nod, her demeanor effortlessly charming. "Nice to meet you," she said softly.

Sung-Ho's eyes widened slightly as he took in Y/N's appearance. It was clear that he hadn't expected to see San with someone so striking, especially since San had never mentioned anything about being involved with anyone. "Well, this is a surprise," Sung-Ho said, his tone light but laced with curiosity. "San, you never told me you'd found someone. Y/N, you must be very special if you've managed to capture his attention."

San chuckled, his arm subtly resting on the back of Y/N's chair as he looked at Sung-Ho. "Some things are better left as pleasant surprises," he said, his words carrying a dual meaning that wasn't lost on Sung-Ho.

Min-ji's gaze flickered between San and Y/N, her expression polite but observant. "It's always nice to meet new people," she said, her voice soft and almost demure. "I'm sure the two of you will enjoy the race today."

"Indeed," San replied, his smile unwavering as he glanced at Y/N, then back at Sung-Ho and Min-ji. "We're looking forward to it."

Sung-Ho nodded, though the surprise still lingered in his eyes. He exchanged a brief look with Min-ji before turning back to San. "Well, we won't keep you. We just wanted to come over and say hello," he said, his tone as friendly as ever, though there was an undercurrent of curiosity in his gaze.

"Enjoy the race," Min-ji added with a sweet smile, though her eyes held a subtle sharpness as she looked at Y/N.

"Thank you. We will," Y/N replied, maintaining her warm demeanor as the couple turned to leave.

As they walked away, San leaned in closer to Y/N, his voice low and amused. "I think we caught them off guard," he said with a grin, the subtle tension of the encounter now dissipating.

Y/N chuckled softly, her hand finding its way to San's. Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the lively atmosphere of the racetrack. "San!" Min Yoongi called out, his tone warm and welcoming.

San turned, his eyes lighting up as Yoongi approached, looking genuinely pleased to see them. "Yoongi," San greeted, standing up to shake his hand. "Good to see you."

Yoongi's smile widened as his gaze shifted to Y/N. "And you brought Y/N! I'm delighted," he said, his tone sincere. "I enjoyed her company so much at dinner the other night. It's nice to see you here, Y/N."

Y/N returned the smile, feeling at ease with Yoongi's friendly demeanor. "Thank you, Mr. Min. It's nice to be here."

The three of them exchanged easy conversation, Yoongi's natural charm making the interaction comfortable and lighthearted. He spoke animatedly about the races, adding a few anecdotes that made Y/N laugh.

After a few moments, Y/N glanced at San and said, "I'm feeling a bit thirsty."

San immediately stood. "I'll get us some drinks," he offered, his tone warm. "Anything specific you want?"

"Just some water would be nice," Y/N replied with a grateful smile.

San nodded and turned to Yoongi. "I'll be back in just a moment."

Yoongi chuckled. "Of course. We'll be just fine."

As San made his way toward the small bar set up on the field, the sun casting a golden hue over the lively crowd, Sung-Ho spotted him and walked over, his pace casual but his expression laced with curiosity.

"Hey man," Sung-Ho greeted again, his tone still polite but carrying an air of something deeper as he stopped beside him. "Got a minute?"

San raised an eyebrow but nodded, his usual composed smile never faltering. "Sure, what's up?"

Sung-Ho glanced back briefly toward where Y/N and Yoongi were still engaged in conversation before turning his attention back to San. "I wanted to ask you about Y/N," he began, his tone just a shade too casual. "You've never mentioned her before. How did the two of you meet?"

San gave a measured smile, keeping his response light. "We crossed paths a little while ago. Things just... clicked."

Sung-Ho hummed, his skepticism more apparent now as he leaned in a little closer. "She seems... different," he remarked, the subtle weight of his words hanging in the air. "Not exactly someone I'd expect to see with you."

San's expression didn't waver, but there was an underlying edge in his tone when he responded. "In what way?"

Sung-Ho raised his hands slightly in mock surrender, his lips curling into a smirk. "I wasn't implying anything. I'm just looking out for you, that's all."

San felt his patience beginning to wear thin as Sung-Ho's questions became more pointed, the subtle skepticism turning into something more intrusive.

 Sung-Ho's eyes gleamed with curiosity. "What does she do for a living anyway? Is she from around here?"

San clenched his jaw subtly, trying to maintain his usual composed demeanor, but the prodding was beginning to grate on him. "She's private about her life," San replied evenly. "And I respect that."

Sung-Ho didn't seem satisfied with the vague answer. "Come on, San," he pressed. "You can't just show up with someone like her and not expect people to ask questions. What's she hiding?"

San's frustration bubbled up, his lips tightening into a thin line. He knew this would happen sooner or later, but he wasn't prepared for how much it annoyed him—how invasive Sung-Ho was being about something that, frankly, was none of his business. Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.

"She's a prostitute."

Sung-Ho blinked, momentarily caught off guard. The revelation hung in the air for a beat, San's voice almost surprising even himself. But once the shock registered in Sung-Ho's eyes, it quickly faded into something else—a gross sense of amusement and intrigue.

"Really?" Sung-Ho's tone dropped to something sleazy as he patted San on the back, a wide grin spreading across his face. "You sly dog. I didn't expect that from you, of all people."

San's stomach twisted as Sung-Ho leaned in closer, his voice lowering to something conspiratorial. "That must be quite the arrangement," he said with a chuckle, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of sleaze and curiosity. "I mean, what's she like? I always figured those girls would be... you know... pretty open to whatever."

San's hands clenched tightly into fists at his sides, but he forced himself to stay calm. Sung-Ho's disgusting comments made his skin crawl, and he fought back the urge to lash out. His voice, when he spoke, was tight and controlled, though anger simmered just beneath the surface.

"Sung-Ho," San said evenly, his voice dangerously low, "don't talk about her like that."

The shift in San's tone caught Sung-Ho off guard, and his grin faltered for a moment. "Hey, hey," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, trying to backpedal, "I was just messing around. No need to get all worked up."

San's eyes hardened, his patience finally snapping. "She's not some joke for you to make disgusting comments about. If you can't respect that, then this conversation is over."

Sung-Ho straightened up, the tension between them palpable. For a moment, his expression was unreadable—caught somewhere between annoyance and surprise. But ultimately, he chose not to push further. With a small, insincere chuckle, he shrugged and backed off.

"Alright, alright," Sung-Ho said with a placating smile. "Didn't mean to offend you, man."

San didn't respond, just giving a curt nod before turning away. As he walked back toward Y/N, drink in hand, he couldn't shake the lingering discomfort in his chest. Sung-Ho's words stuck with him like oil clinging to his skin, but seeing Y/N's bright smile as she laughed with Yoongi melted some of that tension away.

San returned to Y/N with a composed expression, but the tightness in his shoulders betrayed the tension still clinging to him. As he handed her the water, his fingers brushed hers, and for a split second, he let his guard down just enough for her to notice.

Yoongi had shifted his focus to the race, the excitement building on the track as the horses were about to start. Y/N, however, wasn't as easily distracted. She stole a glance at San, noticing the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly, and the way his gaze seemed distant, unfocused. Something was wrong, and she could feel it.

Her hand slipped into his, resting on his lap, her thumb tracing gentle circles on his skin. "Is everything alright?" she asked softly, her voice low enough that only he could hear.

San's instinct was to lie. It was always easier to shield his emotions, to push them aside and pretend everything was fine. So, he offered her a small smile and nodded. "Yeah," he said, though his voice lacked conviction. "It's all good."

But Y/N wasn't convinced. She knew him well enough to catch the subtle signs—the stiffness in his posture, the way his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. She didn't push, though. Instead, she leaned in closer, her shoulder resting against his, offering quiet comfort without demanding an explanation.

San felt a rush of gratitude as her warmth settled beside him. Even though she didn't press him further, he knew she understood that something had bothered him. Her silent support, her presence alone, was enough to ease some of the weight that had settled in his chest. 

As the sun began to sink lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the fading day, Y/N stood by San's car, idly fanning herself with a small floral fan she'd picked up earlier. The heat had clung to the air all afternoon, and though she was used to it by now, a gentle breeze would've been a welcome relief. She glanced over at San, still deep in conversation with a business partner, his usual composed expression in place as he wrapped up their day at the races.

Just as Y/N's attention began to wander, a shadow fell over her, and she looked up to see Sung-Ho approaching. His smile was easy, but there was a gleam in his eyes that made her uneasy. She held her fan a little tighter, though she kept her own smile in place, her polite mask never faltering.

"Y/N, right?" Sung-Ho greeted, his tone light, though it carried that same subtle weight as earlier. "Enjoying the day?"

Y/N nodded, keeping her voice pleasant. "It's been nice, thank you."

Sung-Ho stopped a few feet in front of her, his gaze sweeping over her as if appraising. "I didn't get a chance to speak with you earlier," he said, a note of casual familiarity creeping into his tone. "But I wanted to introduce myself properly. I'm Sung-Ho, one of San's longtime business partners."

Y/N gave a polite nod, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "Yes, I remember. It's nice to meet you."

Sung-Ho seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if considering his next words carefully. He glanced back briefly toward San, still deep in conversation, before returning his attention to Y/N. "You and San seem close," he said, his voice taking on an almost probing quality. "I didn't realize he was seeing someone new."

Y/N's brow furrowed slightly, sensing something off in his tone. She maintained her polite demeanor, though there was a growing discomfort in the pit of her stomach. "Yes, we've been spending time together," she said carefully, not offering more than necessary.

Sung-Ho's smile widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. He took a step closer, lowering his voice as if to share a secret. "I have to admit," he said with a sly grin, "I was surprised when San mentioned... what you do for a living. Not exactly what I'd expect from someone like him."

Y/N stiffened, the words hitting her like a sudden gust of wind. Her grip tightened on the fan, but she kept her expression steady, refusing to let him see the sting his words caused. "And what exactly did he say?"

Sung-Ho's smirk grew a little wider, his gaze almost predatory. "Oh, nothing too specific. Just... some insights." His voice dripped with insinuation, as if he were dangling something unsaid between them.

Y/N held his gaze firmly, refusing to let him intimidate her. "I'm not sure what you're getting at," she said, her voice calm, though there was an underlying edge. "But whatever you think you know, it's none of your business."

Sung-Ho chuckled, seemingly unbothered by her response. "Relax, I'm just curious," he said with an exaggerated shrug. "After all, I've known San for a long time, and I've never seen him with someone like you before."

Before Y/N could respond, a voice cut through the air. "Sung-Ho," San's tone was firm, controlled, but with a distinct edge. He had finished his conversation and now stood a few steps behind Sung-Ho, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked between them. "Is there a reason you're bothering her?"

Sung-Ho turned, startled, his easy smile faltering for just a moment. But he quickly recovered, giving San a friendly clap on the shoulder. "Oh, just chatting," he said casually. "Didn't mean to overstep."

San didn't smile. He stepped closer to Y/N, his presence immediately protective. "Well, I'd appreciate it if you left her alone," he said, his voice even but with an unmistakable warning.

Sung-Ho held up his hands in mock surrender, his grin returning as if nothing had happened. "No harm done, right?" He winked at Y/N before turning to walk away, leaving an uncomfortable tension hanging in the air.

San watched him go, his jaw clenched. When he finally turned back to Y/N, his expression softened. "Are you alright?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. San's gaze softened as he looked at Y/N, but before he could ask again if she was alright, he noticed the way her jaw was clenched, her body tense.

"Y/N?" he asked, his voice gentle but laced with worry.

Y/N pulled away slightly, her hand resting on her hip as she let out a quiet but sharp breath. "Why did you tell him?" she asked, her voice low, though it carried the unmistakable edge of hurt and frustration.

San blinked, caught off guard. "Tell him what?"

Y/N met his eyes, her own simmering with emotion. "About me. About what I do."

Realization dawned on San's face, and his stomach sank. He stepped closer, his hands reaching out instinctively, but she took a small step back. "Y/N, I—"

"No," she interrupted, her voice firmer this time. "You don't get to explain it away." She shook her head, trying to hold back the rising frustration. "It's no one's business, San. No one's."

San frowned, clearly not expecting this reaction. "I didn't mean to—"

"But you did," Y/N shot back, her voice quiet but heavy with emotion. "And now, every time someone finds out, they stop seeing me as... me. It's like I become this... thing to them. Sung-Ho looked at me like I was some new toy he couldn't wait to unwrap." She swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "And you're the one who told him. You're the one who put me in that position."

San's chest tightened with guilt. "Y/N, I'm sorry," he said, his voice filled with regret. "I didn't think he'd react that way. I just—"

"You just what?" Y/N snapped, her anger bubbling over now. "Thought it wouldn't matter? Thought he'd just ignore it? Well, it doesn't work like that, San."

San opened his mouth to respond, but the words didn't come. He wanted to fix it, to take back what he'd said, but he couldn't. He could only stand there, helplessly watching the pain in her eyes.

Y/N crossed her arms, her voice thick with a mix of anger and sadness. "I just want to go home," she said quietly, the fight leaving her as she looked away, her shoulders slumping.

San's heart ached seeing her like this, and all he wanted to do was reach out and comfort her, but he knew he'd messed up. He nodded slowly, his voice subdued. "Okay," he said softly. "Let's go home."

Without another word, Y/N climbed into the car, her silence louder than any argument they could have had. San followed, feeling the weight of her disappointment pressing down on him, and as they drove away from the racetrack, the tension between them lingered, unspoken but heavy.

The drive was quiet, both of them lost in their own thoughts. And as they pulled up to the apartment, San couldn't help but steal a glance at her, hoping for some sign that things would be okay. But Y/N didn't look at him. She stepped out of the car, her expression distant, and headed inside without waiting for him.

Y/N stormed ahead of San the entire walk back to the penthouse, her silence sharp and cutting. The moment they stepped inside, she made a beeline for the bedroom, throwing open the closet and dresser drawers with fury as she began stuffing her belongings into the small bag she had brought with her.

San followed closely behind, his voice desperate as he pleaded, "Y/N, can we just talk about this? Please."

She didn't pause, didn't even glance in his direction. "Oh, now you want to talk?" she shot back, her voice brittle with anger. "If you were going to tell everyone I'm a hooker, why didn't you just let me wear my own clothes, huh? At least then, when some creep like Sung-Ho comes at me, I know how to handle it. I'm prepared for it." Her hands moved frantically, shoving clothes into her bag, as if packing was the only thing keeping her together.

San winced at her words, guilt gnawing at him. "I'm sorry," he repeated softly, following her around the room as she paced. "I didn't think—"

"No, you didn't!" Y/N cut him off, her eyes blazing as she zipped up the bag with finality. "You think you can just pass me around to your friends like I'm some kind of toy? I'm not yours to flaunt!"

She swept past him, her fury palpable, and headed into the living room. San was quick on her heels, his frustration rising as she continued to shut him out. "You're not my toy, and I know that! But let's not pretend here, Y/N. You are a hooker. And, for now, you're my employee."

His words hung in the air, biting and cruel. Y/N froze, her hands clenching into fists as she faced him, tears welling in her eyes despite her best efforts to contain them. "You don't get to own me," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of hurt and anger. "I decide. I say who. I say when. I... I say who..." Her voice faltered, breaking under the weight of her emotions.

San's frustration boiled over. "I refuse to spend the next few days arguing like this! I said I'm sorry. I meant it. Can't that be enough?"

Y/N stared at him, blinking away her tears, her voice quiet but filled with devastation. "I should never have gotten into your goddamn car."

Her words pierced through him like a blade. San could feel the walls crumbling around them, but before he could respond, Y/N turned back to the bedroom, retrieving her packed bags. She re-entered the living room with a determined stride, her eyes sharp despite the tears that still clung to her lashes.

"I've never felt as cheap as I did today," she said, her voice thick with emotion as she hoisted her bag over her shoulder. "And that's because of you."

San took a step closer, panic rising in his chest. "Where are you going?"

Y/N didn't hesitate, her eyes hardening as she spoke, "I want my money. I'm done. I'm going home."

San stood frozen, watching Y/N storm around the apartment with frantic determination, collecting everything she needed as if being near him for even a moment longer was unbearable. His heart pounded in his chest, each second ticking by, feeling like he was losing her piece by piece.

"I'm going down to the lobby," Y/N announced coldly, her eyes barely glancing at him as she slung her bag over her shoulder. "One of the bellhops will help me get all this shit out of here."

She moved swiftly toward the hall doors, her footsteps echoing in the space as she left the apartment. The sound of the door clicking shut behind her snapped San out of his daze. Panic surged through him as he rushed after her, his breath uneven, desperate to catch up.

He found her standing in front of the elevator, the numbers above the door slowly ticking down as she waited in stony silence. She didn't acknowledge his presence as he came up behind her, but he didn't care. He couldn't let her leave like this.

"Y/N," he called out, his voice strained and pleading. She didn't turn around. He swallowed hard, stepping closer, his heart in his throat. "I'm sorry."

She stayed silent, her eyes fixed on the elevator doors.

"I wasn't prepared to answer questions about us," San continued, his voice trembling with the weight of his regret. "It was stupid and cruel of me to say what I did. I didn't mean any of it. I was... I was caught off guard, and I reacted like an idiot."

The elevator dinged softly, but Y/N didn't move, her hand gripping the strap of her bag tightly.

San reached out, gently taking her hand in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "Please don't go. I don't want you to leave." His voice cracked, the vulnerability clear in his words. "I need you here with me. I'll do better. Just... please."

For a moment, Y/N didn't say anything, her eyes still focused ahead. Then, slowly, she turned to look at him, her expression unreadable as she studied his face. The elevator doors slid open behind her, but neither of them moved to step inside.

San waited, his heart pounding in his chest, hoping that this wasn't the end. Y/N's voice was soft, yet heavy with the weight of her emotions. She turned fully to face him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she finally spoke, her words cutting through the air like a blade.

"You hurt me," she whispered.

The depth of her pain, so clear in those few words, struck San like a blow to the chest. He felt his heart drop, guilt flooding every part of him. His grip on her hand tightened slightly, his eyes searching hers, desperate to find the right thing to say—anything that could undo the damage.

"I know," he whispered back, his voice thick with remorse. "I know. I never wanted to hurt you."

Y/N swallowed, feeling the tightness in her chest begin to loosen just a bit as she listened to the sincerity in his voice. There was still hurt, still the sharp sting of betrayal.

San stepped closer, lifting her chin gently so she could look him in the eyes. "I'm not perfect. I'm going to screw up, but I don't want to lose you, not yet. Not like this."

Y/N held his gaze, the conflict of emotions still swirling within her. She felt torn between the pain that lingered and the undeniable connection she had with him. The thought of walking away hurt just as much as staying.

She took a deep breath, the heaviness still there but with a flicker of hope. "This can't happen again."

San nodded, his thumb gently brushing her cheek. "It won't. I promise."

The elevator doors had long since closed, leaving the two of them standing in the quiet hallway, their hearts laid bare between them.

San and Y/N lay together in the tub, the warm water enveloping them in a soothing embrace. Y/N's back rested comfortably against San's chest, his arms wrapped securely around her, offering both warmth and support. Her fingers traced gentle patterns along his arm, the rhythmic motion calming them both.

The soft hum of the water mixed with their quiet conversation, creating a cocoon of intimacy and trust. San's voice was gentle as he spoke, his words barely more than a murmur. "How did you end up in the industry? If you don't mind me asking."

Y/N took a deep breath, her voice reflecting the vulnerability she felt as she opened up. "It's not something I like talking about," she began, her tone laden with regret. "But I guess you deserve to know. It all started when I was struggling to find a job. Seoyeon—she was a friend, though I use the term loosely now—she introduced me to it."

San's arms tightened around her slightly, a protective gesture as she spoke. His heart ached as he listened, each word from Y/N painting a clearer picture of her struggles. She continued, her voice growing softer, tinged with bitterness.

"She was having a hard time too, and she knew I was desperate. I didn't have many options, and she made it seem like it was just a temporary thing, a way to make ends meet until something better came along." Y/N paused, her fingers stilling on his arm. "But things didn't get better. The longer I stayed in it, the more I hated it. I hate everything about it—the judgment, the loss of dignity... It's not who I am, not who I want to be."

San's heart ached for her, the weight of her confession settling heavily on his chest. He held her closer, his chin resting gently on her shoulder as he absorbed her words. The empathy in his eyes was palpable, a silent testament to the pain he felt for her.

"You don't deserve any of this," San said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "You're so much more than what you've had to go through. I see so much potential in you—so much more than what this world has given you."

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed as she listened, the warmth of his words washing over her. "Thank you, San. For everything."

San kissed her temple softly, his arms tightening around her in silent reassurance. “You don’t have to thank me,” he murmured. 

Y/N smiled faintly, though the sadness still lingered in her eyes. “I do,” she whispered. “You've been so kind to me. I don't know how I can every repay you. ”

San shook his head gently, his expression soft and full of care. “You don’t owe me anything, Y/N. This isn’t about repayment.”

She turned slightly in his arms, her eyes searching his face as if looking for something deeper. “But you’ve done so much,” she said quietly. “You didn’t have to help me, but you did. I... I’ve never had anyone treat me like you do.”

San gently cupped Y/N’s face, his thumb tracing delicate circles over her cheek as his gaze held hers. The intensity in his eyes was soft yet profound, like he was baring his soul without needing to say more. “That’s because no one has ever truly looked at you the way I do,” he whispered, his voice warm and tender. His hand slid down to rest at the nape of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair as if he needed to keep her close. “I want you to see yourself the way I see you—strong, beautiful, worthy of every good thing.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, the raw emotion in his words unraveling something inside her. She brought her hands up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. That connection, that grounding warmth, sent a surge of emotion through her, making her feel both vulnerable and cherished.

She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing sync with her own. "San..." she whispered, her voice thick with emotion she didn’t yet have words for.

San's arms wrapped around her more tightly, pulling her against him as though he could shield her from every painful memory that had weighed her down. He pressed his lips to her forehead, letting them linger in a slow, affectionate kiss. “You deserve the world,” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. 

Y/N felt the words sink in, and for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to believe it. She tilted her head up slightly, her lips brushing softly against his in a kiss that was more than just a meeting of lips—it was a promise, a shared moment of understanding that bound them closer.

San deepened the kiss, his hand coming up to cradle her face as though she were something precious and fragile. The kiss was slow and unhurried, filled with affection that made her heart swell and flutter. When they finally parted, both of them breathless, Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears—but for the first time, they were tears of hope rather than sorrow.

With San’s arms still securely around her, she felt safe, loved, and for once, as though maybe she truly could have more. She let herself melt into his embrace, nuzzling into the curve of his neck as she whispered, “Thank you for seeing me.”

San rested his cheek against her hair, his voice soft and full of affection. “Always, Y/N. Always.”

San had endured an exhausting day at the office—one of those relentless stretches of time where the hours bled together, filled with endless meetings, negotiations, and phone calls that left his mind buzzing. By the time he returned home, he felt utterly drained, craving nothing but the solace of solitude. The weight of the day clung to him like an invisible burden, pulling at his shoulders as he slipped out of his jacket and loosened his tie. Without a word, he made his way out to the balcony, the cool evening air offering some respite from the heaviness in his chest.

The night sky stretched above him like an endless canvas of stars, their soft twinkling somehow calming. He let out a long breath, allowing the tension to ebb as he listened to the quiet hum of soft music playing from his phone—a gentle tune that matched the serenity of the moment. It was exactly what he needed—no conversation, no obligations. Just a few stolen minutes to himself, where the world outside could fall away.

Unbeknownst to him, Y/N had been waiting in the bedroom, eager to surprise him. She had slipped into something sultry and elegant, hoping to catch his eye and offer him some relief after his long day. But as the night wore on and still no sign of him, she began to wonder if something was wrong. She sighed, slipping on a robe to cover the revealing outfit she had chosen. She tried not to let the disappointment settle in, reminding herself that he’s probably held up at work.

Hoping to distract herself, Y/N wandered into the kitchen in search of a snack. The quiet hum of the refrigerator and the low lighting created a peaceful ambiance, but it didn’t stop her mind from wandering. She munched on her snack absentmindedly as she wandered back down the hall, but something made her pause as she passed by the living room. The soft glow of the night sky outside caught her attention, and when she looked toward the balcony, she saw San there—sitting alone, staring up at the stars.

He was leaning on the railing, his gaze cast upward to the stars, the soft strains of music reaching her ears. He looked so still, so serene—but there was a weariness in the set of his shoulders, a weight she could almost feel from where she stood. She paused for a moment, her snack forgotten, watching him quietly.

Her heart squeezed as she realized how much he had on his shoulders. His job, his responsibilities—everything seemed to press down on him, demanding more and more of his time and energy. He looked so strong, yet in this quiet moment, he seemed vulnerable, as though he needed the night sky to keep him grounded.

Y/N slowly approached the glass doors, her hand resting lightly on the handle as she watched him, unsure whether to disturb him or leave him to his thoughts. She knew he needed this time to unwind, but a part of her couldn’t help wanting to comfort him, to be close to him.

After a moment of hesitation, she softly slid open the door and stepped outside. The cool breeze kissed her skin as she stood there for a beat, waiting to see if he would notice her presence. San didn’t turn around, still lost in his own world, but she could tell by the slight shift in his posture that he sensed her nearby.

Quietly, she moved closer, her bare feet barely making a sound against the balcony floor. She wrapped her arms around herself, the robe falling loosely around her as she came to stand beside him, her eyes tracing the same stars he had been gazing at. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, the night air carrying with it a peaceful silence.

Finally, Y/N turned her head to look at him, her voice soft when she broke the stillness. “Hey,” she whispered, as if not wanting to disturb the tranquility of the moment. “Are you alright?”

San turned his head slightly, meeting her gaze. His eyes were tired, but they softened when they landed on her. He took in the sight of her standing beside him, her robe falling open just slightly to reveal a glimpse of the outfit she had planned for him. Despite everything, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice low and calm, though she could hear the exhaustion beneath it. He reached out, his hand finding hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Just… needed some air. Needed to clear my head.”

Y/N nodded, understanding. She slipped her hand into his, her fingers threading through his as she leaned into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. They stood like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s presence, the stars twinkling above them like silent witnesses to their connection.

“I was waiting for you,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. 

San’s grip on her hand tightened slightly as he turned to face her fully, his expression softening even more. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, bringing her hand up to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

Y/N smiled faintly, shaking her head. “It’s alright. I just—wanted to see if you were okay.”

San looked down at her, a flicker of warmth passing through the haze of his exhaustion. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer as they stood in the quiet intimacy of the balcony. The city below hummed with distant noise, but up here, in this moment, it felt like the world had paused just for them.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” he said softly, his lips brushing against her temple. “I just needed some time to unwind.”

Y/N tilted her head up to meet his gaze, her eyes filled with understanding. “I get it,” she whispered. “Do you need anything?”

San's eyes softened even more at her question, the sincerity in her voice reaching him deeply. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he thought about how to respond. “Just you,” he murmured, his voice carrying a tenderness that contrasted with the weight of his day.

Y/N smiled gently, her hand coming up to rest against his chest. “You’ve got me,” she whispered in return, her touch soothing him more than any words ever could.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I know,” he whispered back, his lips lingering there for a moment as if drawing comfort from her presence. For a moment, they simply stood together, wrapped up in each other as the night air swirled around them. Y/N could feel the tension slowly draining from San’s body as he held her close, his breathing becoming steadier.

“Come inside,” Y/N coaxed gently, her voice soft but insistent. “Let’s get some rest.”

San hesitated for a moment, glancing up at the stars one last time before nodding. He turned toward her, his hand still in hers, and together they walked back into the warmth of the apartment, leaving the worries of the day behind them.

San allowed Y/N to guide him back into the apartment, her hand never leaving his. There was something soothing about her presence, like she could absorb all the tension he carried and replace it with calm. As they reached the bedroom, Y/N suddenly pulled away and gave him a playful push toward the bed.

"Alright, mister, you’re going to lie down and let me take care of you," she said, her voice filled with mock sternness as she bustled around the room.

San chuckled softly, watching her with amused eyes. "Oh? And how exactly do you plan to do that?"

Y/N flashed him a mischievous grin before walking over to the dresser, where she grabbed the remote. She switched on the TV and started flipping through the channels until she landed on his favorite show—one he'd only mentioned to her once in passing during a random conversation.

San blinked in surprise. "Wait, you actually remembered that?"

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a hint of pride in her smile. "Of course, I did. I pay attention, you know. Now, you relax and watch your show."

San laid back against the pillows, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "So bossy."

Y/N turned to grab her phone, already pulling up a food delivery app. "I'm also ordering dinner, your favorite."

San raised an eyebrow, his smile turning into a teasing smirk. "Oh, so you’re pampering me by spending my money? I see how it is."

Y/N shot him a playful glare as she tapped her phone, confirming the order. "Hey, taking care of you isn't cheap. And besides," she added with a cheeky grin, "it’s your money, might as well put it to good use."

San laughed, shaking his head. "Touché."

Y/N sat down beside him on the bed, crossing her arms with a satisfied look. "Exactly. Now, let me spoil you for once."

San reached over and pulled her into his side, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head. "Alright, alright. But don't get too used to this—I'm the one who's supposed to be spoiling you."

Y/N snuggled into him, a content smile on her face. "We'll see about that."

Later in the night, after their food was long gone and the remnants of a few glasses of alcohol sat on the nightstand, San and Y/N found themselves tangled together under the covers. The TV droned on in the background, but neither of them paid it much attention. San, still dressed in his business attire—minus his tie, jacket, and shoes—held Y/N close, her head resting on his chest, her robe still wrapped tightly around her.

As they lay there, San shifted slightly, glancing down at her with a curious look. “Why are you still wearing that robe? Aren't you hot?” he asked, his tone teasing but laced with genuine curiosity.

Y/N shrugged, keeping her face nestled against him. “I’m comfortable,” she replied nonchalantly, trying to brush it off. She knew he’d had a long day, and the last thing she wanted was to start anything now.

San’s lips quirked up in a playful smirk. “Comfortable, huh? Or hiding something?” His fingers danced along the edge of her robe, tugging at it lightly as if testing her resolve.

Y/N swatted his hand away with a mock stern expression. “Stop it,” she said with a chuckle. “You’re tired, San. Just relax.”

But San, despite his exhaustion, wasn’t about to let it go. He grinned at her, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Tired or not, I want to know what’s underneath this robe.” He tugged at it again, only for Y/N to bat his hand away once more.

“San!” she giggled, squirming as he playfully tried to pull the robe open. “I’m serious! There’s nothing to see!”

“Oh, I highly doubt that,” San teased, shifting his weight so that he could get a better angle, his hands now sneaking around her waist as he pretended to pry her robe open.

Y/N laughed and rolled onto her side, keeping the robe tightly closed, her cheeks flushed from the playful battle. “You’re relentless,” she huffed, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, but San wasn’t having it. He playfully tackled her back onto the bed, holding her in place with a triumphant grin.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered, his voice soft but teasing as his nose brushed against her cheek. “Just show me.”

The pet name caught Y/N off guard. Her laughter faded, replaced by a quiet moment of vulnerability. The way he said it, with such warmth and tenderness, transformed the playful banter into something more intimate. For a moment, it felt different—more meaningful than the casual nicknames she had grown used to from others.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. The sincerity behind his words, the way he made her feel special rather than objectified, was something she hadn't experienced before. It stirred something inside her, a blend of surprise and warmth. She realized that with San, these names didn’t just carry the weight of discomfort—they held meaning, an affirmation of their bond.

A soft smile tugged at her lips as she met his gaze. “Alright,” she said softly, her voice tinged with affection. Slowly, with a teasing glimmer in her eyes, Y/N slipped her robe open to reveal a light purple lingerie set—his favorite color. The delicate fabric contrasted beautifully with her skin, and the sight of it made San’s breath catch in his throat. The lingerie clung to her curves just right, accentuating her figure in a way that was both elegant and alluring.

San’s eyes widened with appreciation, his earlier exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “Wow,” he breathed, his gaze traveling over her with a mix of admiration and desire. “Beautiful.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed with a soft pink, her heart racing at the intensity in San’s eyes. The air between them seemed to thicken with a new, palpable energy. She felt a delicate thrill of anticipation, the kind that whispered promises of closeness and shared moments.

San reached out, his fingers grazing her arm lightly as he pulled her closer. The touch was gentle but filled with a quiet urgency. “You’re stunning,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

Y/N’s breath hitched as she allowed herself to be drawn into his embrace. The tenderness in his touch, the warmth of his body against hers, created a cocoon of intimacy around them.

With a playful smile, Y/N straddled his waist, her robe slipping just slightly to reveal more of her lingerie. San’s hands roamed over her sides, his impatience palpable as his fingers traced her curves.

“Do you like it?” Y/N asked softly, her voice carrying a teasing undertone. San’s eyes were fixed on her, unable to find the words. He simply nodded, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and admiration.

Y/N chuckled softly, her fingers moving to the buttons of his dress shirt. “Oh, you’ve had such a long day,” she said, her voice sweet and almost sing-song. “You work so hard all the time.”

She worked methodically, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, each button revealed with deliberate slowness. Her fingers brushed against his chest, and she took her time, enjoying the contrast of his warm skin against her cool touch.

San's breathing grew more ragged, his hands gripping her hips with a gentle but urgent pressure. All he wanted was to kiss her, to lose himself in the soft, intimate space between them. His eyes followed her hands, the slow disrobing making him yearn for her touch.

Y/N’s hands slid the shirt off his shoulders, revealing his bare chest. She leaned in, her lips brushing lightly against his collarbone. “You deserve to be pampered,” she whispered, her voice filled with affectionate mock-seriousness. 

San’s hands tightened on her waist, his desire evident in the way he pulled her closer. He turned his head, his lips seeking hers, but Y/N pulled back slightly, her eyes dancing with playful defiance.

“Patience,” she murmured, her fingers dancing over his bare skin, drawing soft, teasing patterns. “I’m not done yet.”

San let out a low groan, his frustration mixed with pleasure as he fought to keep his composure. “I can’t wait,” he admitted, his voice thick with longing.

Y/N smiled, her eyes glinting with mischief and affection. “I know,” she said softly. “But for now, let me take care of you.”

Sung-Ho strolled through the office, his eyes scanning the rows of desks and the bustling activity of the staff. He spotted San’s secretary, who was tidying up her desk. Approaching her, he raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Hey,” Sung-Ho greeted casually. “Do you know where San is? I was hoping to catch him before lunch.”

The secretary looked up, her expression thoughtful. “Oh, Mr. Choi? I saw him heading towards the elevators not too long ago. He should be on his way out for the day.”

Sung-Ho nodded, a frown settling on his face. He made his way to the elevators, catching sight of San just as the doors were closing. He quickened his pace, slipping into the elevator before the doors shut completely.

“San,” Sung-Ho called out as the elevator doors opened on the ground floor. He stepped out and caught up with San, who was heading towards the exit. “Hold on a minute.”

San turned, his expression a mix of surprise and mild annoyance. “Sung-Ho. What’s up?”

Sung-Ho’s gaze was sharp, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What's up? What's up with you, huh? You're leaving early today? You’re usually the first one in and the last one out. What’s going on? Where are you headed?”

San shrugged nonchalantly, his tone dismissive. “Look, I’ll be back first thing in the morning. Whatever it is you're needing I'll handle it tomorrow.”

Sung-Ho’s frustration grew. “Why are you in a rush? Come on, what’s really going on?”

San sighed, rubbing a hand over his face in a tired gesture. “I've got a date.”

Sung-Ho’s eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and irritation flickering across his face. “A date? Don't tell me it's with that hooker?”

San’s jaw tightened at Sung-Ho’s words. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. “Careful Sung-Ho,” he said, his voice steady but edged with frustration. 

Sung-Ho’s face flushed slightly at the warning in San’s tone, but he pressed on, unable to mask his disdain. “Come on, San. You’re seriously letting a hooker distract you from your work? You’ve been distracted lately, and now you’re letting this affect your performance.”

San’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. “Frankly, I don’t need you judging my personal life. I’m perfectly capable of handling my work and my relationships.”

Sung-Ho shook his head, his frustration evident. “I just don’t understand why you’re settling for someone like her. You’re better than this, San.”

San took a deep breath, his jaw clenching. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me. I’m making my own choices, and I’m happy with them. If you have an issue with that, then maybe you should look elsewhere for answers.”

Sung-Ho’s mouth opened in a mixture of surprise and frustration, but he didn’t have a retort. He watched as San turned on his heel and walked briskly towards the exit, his posture rigid with determination.

As San exited the building, Sung-Ho stood in the lobby, his mind racing with a mix of confusion and irritation. He had always seen San as a workaholic, dedicated to his career above all else, and seeing him so absorbed in his personal life was jarring.

“So... what do we think?” she asked, her voice bubbling with excitement and a hint of nervousness. Y/N twirled in front of the mirror, adjusting the hem of her elegant dress. The fabric shimmered softly under the light, a deep sapphire blue that contrasted beautifully with her skin. 

San looked up, his eyes traveling from her hair down to her shoes. The expression on his face softened into a genuine smile, his gaze filled with admiration. “You look incredible,” he said, his tone warm and approving. “Absolutely stunning.”

Y/N's cheeks flushed with a delighted pink, and she beamed at him. “Thanks! I’m so excited for tonight. It’s been ages since I’ve seen a musical, and this one has been on my list forever.”

San nodded, his smile widening. “I remember you mentioning it. Besides, I've been dragging you around to all these places with me, I thought it’d be nice to surprise you with something.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she took a step closer to him, her expression touched. “You remembered? I didn’t think you’d go through all that trouble.”

San shrugged casually, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his pleasure at her reaction. “I wanted to make sure you had a great time.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered with a mix of happiness and appreciation. She reached out, taking his hand in hers, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’re making this night really special for me. I can’t wait to see the show.”

San’s fingers tightened around hers, his eyes locking with hers. “I’m glad you’re excited. I’ve heard this performance is supposed to be incredible.”

They both glanced at the clock, noting they needed to leave soon to make it to the theater on time. Y/N grabbed her clutch from the dresser and turned to San with a playful grin. “Ready to see what all the fuss is about?”

San laughed softly, a genuine, carefree sound that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat. “Absolutely.”

As they walked out of the apartment together, the evening air was crisp and refreshing. They strolled hand in hand to the car, the city lights casting a warm glow over the streets. San opened the car door for Y/N with a courteous smile, and she slipped inside, feeling a wave of contentment.

During the drive to the theater, Y/N chatted animatedly about her past experiences with musicals, her excitement bubbling over as she shared her favorite moments and performances. San listened intently, occasionally glancing at her with a fond smile.

When they arrived at the theater, the anticipation in the air was palpable. The marquee lights shimmered, announcing the night’s performance in elegant script. Y/N’s eyes sparkled with joy as she looked up at the sign, then at San, her excitement evident.

“Thank you, San,” she said softly, her voice filled with heartfelt gratitude. “This means so much to me.”

San squeezed her hand gently, his expression sincere. “I’m glad to see you so happy."

They made their way inside, the theater bustling with patrons and the buzz of anticipation. As they took their seats, Y/N settled in comfortably, her hand still clasped in San’s. The lights dimmed, and the curtain began to rise, revealing a dazzling stage.

Y/N’s eyes widened with awe, her heart swelling with joy. She turned to San, catching his eye and offering him a radiant smile. “It's starting.”

San smiled back, his gaze warm and affectionate. The performance began, and the magic of the musical enveloped them, creating a night filled with laughter, music, and shared moments of wonder. Y/N leaned into San, savoring the experience and the closeness they shared, knowing this was a night she would remember for a long time.

After the performance, Y/N and San walked out of the theater, the cool night air brushing against their faces. The city streets were bustling with people, but Y/N was glowing with happiness, her excitement palpable. She practically bounced as she walked beside San, her hands animatedly gesturing as she spoke.

“Okay, so remember that big number at the end? I was convinced they were going to do a tap dance routine. I was practically holding my breath!”

San laughed softly. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Oh my god, and then! Did you see that part when the lead actress—” Y/N's voice was practically bubbling over with enthusiasm. “She did this incredible flip! I’ve never seen anything like it. And the set changes were so seamless. One minute, they’re in a grand ballroom, and the next, they’re on a moonlit terrace. It was like magic!”

San chuckled, clearly amused by her energy. “I’m glad you enjoyed it so much. You were pretty wrapped up in it.”

Y/N’s laughter was infectious, and she reached out to give San a quick hug. “I did! It’s just been such a great night, and I can’t wait to tell everyone about it.”

As they made their way to the car, Y/N’s excitement didn’t wane. She continued to recount her favorite moments, her voice animated and full of joy. San listened intently, his heart warmed by her happiness. The night had been a success, and seeing Y/N so delighted made every effort he’d put into arranging it worthwhile.

When they finally reached the car, Y/N turned to San with a grateful smile. “Seriously, thank you for tonight. It was more than I could’ve asked for.”

San opened the car door for her, his smile tender. “You’re welcome. I’m just glad I could make you happy.”

Y/N slid into the passenger seat, her eyes sparkling with appreciation. “Well, you definitely did. I’m already looking forward to our next adventure.”

As San settled into the driver’s seat, he looked over at her with a warm, satisfied smile. “Me too.”

They drove home together, Y/N’s cheerful chatter filling the car with an infectious joy that made the night even more memorable.

Back in the apartment, the energy between Y/N and San was electric, the afterglow of the evening still shimmering brightly. Y/N, still buzzing with excitement, practically skipped into the living room, her eyes sparkling with a lively enthusiasm that made San smile.

They settled down on the floor in front of the coffee table, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over them. Y/N poured two glasses of wine, handing one to San before they began shuffling the deck.

“So,” Y/N began, her fingers deftly mixing the cards, “what’s your game of choice? I’ve got a few up my sleeve.”

San took a sip of his wine, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Surprise me. I’m game for anything.”

Y/N’s grin widened as she began dealing the cards. “Alright, how about we start with poker? A classic. I’m feeling lucky tonight.”

San chuckled, taking his hand and inspecting his cards with a mock-serious expression. “Poker it is. But be warned, I don’t play nice.”

The two began playing, their laughter and light-hearted banter filling the room. Y/N’s competitive spirit came out in full force, and she teased San relentlessly whenever he made a misstep. San, in turn, was more than happy to dish out playful retorts, his laughter mingling with hers.

“Ha!” Y/N exclaimed triumphantly as she won a hand. “Looks like my lucky streak is holding!”

San raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a teasing smirk. “Beginners’ luck. I’ll have you know I’m just letting you win to make it more interesting.”

Y/N scoffed playfully, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, is that so? I think you’re just afraid of my superior card skills.”

San leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone. “Careful, or I might have to show you just how skilled I really am.”

As the game continued, the competition grew more animated, their playful banter creating a comfortable, intimate atmosphere. They laughed, joked, and occasionally leaned in close, their shoulders brushing as they tried to conceal their hands or strategize their next move.

Eventually, as the night wore on, their card game devolved into a series of silly bets and challenges. Y/N had dared San to perform a dramatic monologue from one of her favorite movies, and he, with a good-natured grin, obliged with exaggerated flair.

Y/N clapped and laughed, thoroughly entertained. “Bravo, Bravo!”

San laughed, taking a theatrical bow. “Thank you, thank you. I’ve always wanted to be a performer.”

The two continued to enjoy their wine and each other’s company. By the time they decided to call it a night, both were still riding high on the joy of their evening together.

Y/N stretched, her eyes full of contentment. “Wanna do another round? Or we can move to another game?”

San glanced at the clock and realized it was past midnight. He looked back at Y/N, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Why don’t we finish this tomorrow? It’s really late, and I have to work.”

Y/N’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Why don’t you just take the day off?"

San looked at her, a hint of confusion in his eyes. “Take the day off? No, I’ve never done that.”

Y/N tilted her head, a playful grin on her lips. “Exactly. You’re always pushing yourself. Just one day won’t hurt. Besides, you deserve a break.”

San raised an eyebrow, considering her words. He had always been so dedicated to his work, it felt almost foreign to think of taking a day off without a pressing reason. Yet, the idea of spending a full day with Y/N, without the usual pressures of his job hanging over him, was tempting.

Y/N reached out, placing a hand on his arm with a reassuring squeeze. “Come on. Just this once. Let’s enjoy the day together, no work, no stress.”

San hesitated, his internal conflict clear. He had always felt a sense of responsibility to his job, but Y/N’s enthusiasm and the promise of a carefree day with her were hard to ignore.

Finally, he let out a resigned sigh, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Alright, you win. I’ll take the day off.”

Y/N’s face lit up with a delighted grin. “Great! I’ll make some fun plans for us. Trust me, you won’t regret it.”

San chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “I’m sure I won’t." 

The next day dawned bright and warm, and Y/N had successfully dragged San out to the city’s public park. It was a beautiful day, and the park was buzzing with life. Families gathered at the playground, their children’s laughter filling the air as they swung on jungle gyms and dashed through the open spaces. Nearby, food trucks and stands lined the sidewalks, offering everything from ice cream to gourmet sandwiches. The smell of freshly popped popcorn mingled with the scent of blooming flowers.

San sat on the blanket Y/N had brought with them, his suit jacket left behind in the car but still looking somewhat formal compared to the relaxed atmosphere. He was on the phone, his brow slightly furrowed as he discussed something work-related with one of his employees. Despite being physically present, his mind seemed anchored to the office.

Y/N, on the other hand, was completely in her element. She had already kicked off her sandals and was enjoying the feel of the grass under her feet. Glancing at San, she rolled her eyes playfully. Without saying a word, she knelt down in front of him, her hands working to remove his shoes. San barely registered what she was doing as he continued his conversation, his attention focused entirely on the voice on the other end of the phone.

Once she had successfully unfastened his shoes and slipped them off, Y/N pulled off his socks, tossing them aside with a smirk. She could feel his eyes flicker toward her in mild confusion, but he still didn’t interrupt his phone call.

That was until Y/N made her next bold move.

With a mischievous grin, she leaned forward, yanked the phone from his hand, and tossed it to the side onto the blanket—well out of his reach but safe from any damage. San’s eyes widened in surprise, his sentence cutting off mid-word as he stared at her in disbelief.

“Y/N, what the—” he began, but she cut him off with a firm but playful look.

“You’re supposed to be taking the day off, remember?” she said, her tone light but teasingly scolding. “No work, no phone calls. Just us.”

San blinked, processing the moment. “But that was important.”

“Not as important as this,” Y/N replied, pointing toward the park, the families, the sunshine, and the two of them sitting together. “You promised me a day with no work. So, I’m holding you to that.”

San sighed but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. The seriousness in his demeanor slowly melted away, replaced by a relaxed warmth. He shifted on the blanket, glancing at his phone sitting uselessly beside them before turning his full attention to Y/N.

“Alright,” he said, his voice softening. “No more work. Just us.”

Y/N beamed, satisfied with her victory, and she leaned back on the blanket with a contented sigh. The playful atmosphere wrapped around them like a warm breeze as the sounds of the park filled the air. It was a rare, carefree moment—one that she knew San needed more than he realized.

She gave him a quick wink, her eyes dancing with mischief. "See? You’re already doing better."

San chuckled, leaning back onto the blanket beside her. “I guess I am. But you’re a dangerous influence.”

“Someone’s got to remind you how to live a little,” Y/N teased, nudging his side playfully.

San’s hand found hers on the blanket, their fingers entwining easily. As they sat together, surrounded by the life and laughter of the park, it felt as though time had slowed down, giving them the space to simply be with each other—no work, no stress, just them.

Their day had been packed with activities, and the joy of it all still lingered in the air as they drove through the city. After a morning at the park and an afternoon spent at the horse ranch, Y/N was radiating happiness. She had begged San to take her back to the ranch they visited a few days earlier, eager to try horseback riding for the first time. Though San had done it before, he was more than happy to oblige her excitement. Watching her carefully learn the ropes, laugh at her clumsy moments, and eventually grow more confident on the horse had brought a lightness to his own heart.

They spent hours riding through the trails, the sun warming their backs as they explored the scenic landscapes together. By the time they returned to the ranch, both of them were glowing with the thrill of the experience. After that, Y/N had insisted they stop by a food truck on their way back into the city, pointing out a stall she had tried once that sold the best street tacos. San had never tried food from a truck before, but seeing her eyes light up at the sight of something so simple, yet meaningful to her, made the new experience worth it.

Now, with the sun setting and casting golden light across the cityscape, they were cruising through the same part of town where they had first met. The coincidence of it wasn’t lost on San—he glanced out the window, recalling that fateful night, and wondered at the strange pull that had led him down these streets again.

Y/N, who had been quietly watching the city lights pass by, suddenly sat up straighter. Her eyes fixed on a familiar spot up ahead, a small bar tucked away in a corner.

“That’s it!” she exclaimed, pointing toward the bar. “That’s where I used to hang out with Seoyeon.” Her voice held a mix of nostalgia and eagerness.

San slowed the car, pulling over to the side of the street as she had asked. Y/N was already unbuckling her seatbelt. “I’m going to see if she’s in there,” she said, her tone light but determined. “Wait here. I’ll be quick.”

San’s eyes flickered with hesitation. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Y/N stepping into that old bar, especially given what he knew of her past with Seoyeon, but he didn’t want to dampen her enthusiasm. He trusted her, after all, and if she wanted to check on her friend, who was he to stop her?

“Alright,” he said with a small smile, though his gaze lingered on her for a moment longer. 

Y/N flashed him a grateful grin before hopping out of the car and walking toward the bar’s entrance. The neon lights of the bar’s sign cast a faint glow on her as she pushed open the door and disappeared inside.

San watched her go, his hands resting lightly on the steering wheel as he waited. The city hummed with activity around him, cars passing by, people walking along the sidewalks, and the familiar sounds of urban life filling the air. Despite the casual atmosphere, a small flicker of unease crept into his chest as the minutes ticked by.

It was strange, being back in this part of town—the place where it had all started for them. He glanced around at the quiet streets, a nostalgic memory of their first encounter surfacing in his mind. The way she had stood her ground against those men, the fierce determination in her eyes, and the way fate seemed to have aligned to bring them together—it all felt like a distant dream now, yet so vivid at the same time.

San leaned back in his seat, waiting patiently but keeping a watchful eye on the bar’s entrance, hoping Y/N wouldn’t be long.

As Y/N stepped into the familiar bar, the smell of liquor and old wood washed over her, tugging at memories she had tried to leave behind. The dim lighting and worn-out stools felt the same, but something inside her had changed since the last time she was here. She no longer felt that deep sense of suffocation, like the walls were closing in on her. She was free—free from the weight of everything that had held her back for so long.

Before she could make it far, a voice called out from behind the bar. “Well, well, if it isn’t Y/N.”

She turned to see Lila, one of the bartenders she used to know well. Lila was leaning against the counter, her eyes scanning Y/N up and down with curiosity. “Where have you been? You look… different.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the comment. “Different?”

Lila smiled knowingly. “Yeah, you do. Healthier. Happier. Like, your skin’s glowing, your hair looks amazing,”

Y/N glanced down at herself, trying to see what Lila meant. She hadn’t really noticed the changes before, but now that Lila mentioned it, there was something different about her. Her skin, which used to be sallow and tired, now had a warmth to it. Her hair, once dry and brittle, had a healthy sheen, and she could feel the difference in her body too—stronger, more at ease. It was as if all the tension and exhaustion she’d carried around with her for years had started to melt away.

She smiled softly. “I guess I’ve been taking better care of myself.”

Lila grinned and crossed her arms. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up. It suits you.”

Before Y/N could respond, another figure joined the conversation—a tall, older gentleman with graying hair and kind eyes. Pops, the owner of the bar, had always been a friendly presence, looking out for the girls who came in and offering them a safe space when things got rough.

“Y/N,” Pops greeted warmly, his voice gruff but affectionate. “I heard you landed yourself a new job. That’s what’s behind this new look, huh?”

Y/N chuckled lightly, a bit embarrassed. “Something like that.”

“Well, good for you, kid,” Pops said, clapping her on the shoulder. “You look better than I’ve seen you in a long time. Whatever it is, you’re doing alright now.”

“Thanks, Pops. It’s been… different,” Y/N admitted, feeling a wave of gratitude for the people who had once been part of her old life. She glanced around, her smile fading slightly as she remembered why she’d come here. “Actually, I was hoping to run into Seoyeon. Have you guys seen her around?”

Both Lila and Pops exchanged glances, then shook their heads. “Haven’t seen her in a while,” Lila said. “She stopped coming in earlier this week. Must be with some new guy.”

“Yeah,” Pops added. “Last time I saw her, she was in a bit of a rough patch, but nothing since then.”

Y/N’s heart sank a little, though she tried not to show it. Seoyeon had always been unpredictable, but this time, something felt off. She dug into her bag and pulled out a small piece of paper, scribbling down the phone number for the apartment. “If you see her, or if she shows up, could you tell her to call me? I just want to make sure she’s alright.”

Lila took the note and nodded. “Of course, Y/N. If she shows up, we’ll let her know.”

Pops smiled gently. “Take care of yourself, alright? It’s good to see you like this. Don’t let anything pull you back down.”

Y/N smiled gratefully, feeling the warmth of their concern. She thanked them both and made her way back toward the exit. As she stepped out into the night, she couldn’t help but glance back at the bar, the place where she had spent so many nights lost and uncertain. Now, she was walking away from it, back to a life that felt more like her own.

As she approached the car, San looked at her questioningly, his expression softening when he saw the calm determination in her eyes. Without saying a word, she slipped back into the passenger seat, offering him a small smile. The past was still there, lingering in the shadows, but now she had something brighter to look forward to—something worth holding onto.

The dim glow from the bathroom lights spilled into the bedroom as Y/N finished getting ready for the night. She smoothed down her sleeveless nightdress, the soft fabric brushing against her skin as she released her hair from its bun, allowing it to fall in loose waves around her shoulders. Stepping out of the bathroom, she paused at the doorway, her gaze falling on the bed.

San was there, half-sitting, half-leaning against the pillows, his bare chest rising and falling in the soft rhythm of sleep. He looked peaceful, the hard edges of his usual composed demeanor softened in slumber. Y/N smiled to herself, the sight of him like this warming her heart. She stood there for a moment, simply watching him, letting the stillness of the moment settle between them.

“He sleeps,” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible.

Quietly, she walked toward the bed, the floor cool beneath her feet as she approached him. She sat down gently on the mattress, careful not to disturb him too much. Her eyes traced the contours of his face, the strong lines of his jaw, the way his lips were slightly parted as he breathed. He looked so different when he slept—unguarded, relaxed, vulnerable in a way she wasn’t used to seeing.

Y/N smiled softly and pressed her index finger to her lips, kissing it gently before placing the same finger against San’s lips. The lightest of touches, tender and affectionate. She hesitated for just a moment, feeling a flutter of nervous excitement, then leaned down closer to him.

Her lips brushed his cheek, soft as a whisper. She paused, her heart skipping a beat, before leaning in again—this time pressing her lips against his. The warmth of his skin sent a shiver through her, and for a moment, she thought he hadn’t stirred. But then, his lips responded, returning the kiss with gentle pressure.

San blinked his eyes open, the hazy fog of sleep fading as he registered what was happening. His gaze found hers, and a slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he met her kiss more fully, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch her face. He lifted himself from the bed, the kiss growing deeper, more passionate as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer.

Y/N’s hands slid up his chest as they kissed, feeling the heat of his skin beneath her fingertips. She let herself get lost in him, in the moment, her body responding to the tenderness and desire in his touch. San’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer still, the connection between them electric, the room around them fading away.

When they finally parted for breath, San gazed at her, his voice husky and low. “Hi,” he murmured, his lips curving into a soft smile.

Y/N grinned, brushing her thumb along his cheek. “Hi handsome,” she teased softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Y/N's teasing grin lingered as she held San’s gaze, her heart racing with anticipation. The room felt charged with a new kind of energy, the air thick with the unspoken tension between them. Slowly, her hands left his face, fingers trailing down his chest before finding the hem of her nightdress. With a quiet confidence, she slipped it off, letting the soft fabric pool at her feet.

San’s eyes darkened with desire as he watched her, his breath catching in his throat. The sight of her standing before him—bare, vulnerable, and breathtaking—sent a surge of heat through him. He couldn’t look away, utterly captivated by the way she moved, the way her skin seemed to glow in the dim light.

Y/N leaned back down, her lips finding his again, the kiss deeper this time, more urgent. San responded immediately, pulling her close as their bodies pressed together, his hands roaming her skin, exploring the curves of her waist and the dip of her back. Each touch felt electric, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through them both.

She climbed back into the bed, straddling his lap, and San’s hands instinctively gripped her hips, his thumbs tracing slow circles against her skin. They kissed like they had all the time in the world, savoring the moment, letting the passion build between them. There was a tenderness in their connection, a quiet intimacy that made the moment feel like more than just physical desire—it felt like a promise.

San’s hands moved up her sides, exploring the familiar and beloved lines of her body. His lips never left hers, matching her hunger with his own, the kiss deepening as his desire for her grew. Y/N moaned softly against his mouth, the sound sending a thrill through him.

Time seemed to blur, the world outside fading completely as they lost themselves in each other. Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, her breath hitching as he responded with equal fervor. Everything about him—his warmth, his strength, his touch—made her feel alive, wanted, and loved.

San shifted, rolling them both so that he was now hovering over her, his lips trailing from her mouth to her neck, then lower, each kiss leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Y/N arched beneath him, her body trembling with anticipation, her hands running over the muscles of his back as she whispered his name in the darkness.

Some time later, Y/N lay beneath San, his body resting comfortably on top of hers, his arms wrapped tightly around her in a protective embrace. His head nestled against her chest, the weight of him grounding her in a way that made her feel safe, even though her mind was anything but at ease. The warmth of his body, the soft sound of his breathing as he slept, wrapped them both in a cocoon of intimacy that felt like it could last forever. But Y/N knew better.

She let her fingers drift through his hair, brushing the strands back gently as she gazed up at the ceiling, her thoughts swirling. Their arrangement, whatever it had turned in to, had an expiration date. She knew this. He had never promised more than what they had now, and she had been content with that for a while. But lying here, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against hers, she couldn’t help but acknowledge the truth she had been avoiding.

This wasn’t just some temporary thing for her anymore.

Y/N bit her lip, the realization hitting her hard as she continued to absentmindedly stroke his hair. She hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to worm his way so deeply into her heart. What had started as an unlikely connection had evolved into something that scared her because it felt so real, so raw. She hadn’t planned on feeling this way, but here she was, her heart betraying her careful walls, crumbling every time he smiled, every time he held her like she meant the world to him.

She gazed down at him, her chest tightening as she took in the sight of him—so peaceful, so unguarded in his sleep. Her fingers paused in their motion for just a moment, lingering in his hair as if committing the feeling to memory.

Then, in the quiet darkness, with only the sound of his soft breathing and the thudding of her own heart, Y/N whispered the words that had been dancing on the edge of her mind for days now. “I think I’m falling for you,” she breathed, so quietly that the words almost disappeared into the night.

San stirred slightly but didn’t wake. Y/N swallowed hard, her heart racing as if speaking those words aloud had somehow made everything more real. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to hear it yet or if she was ready to face the consequences of her feelings. But for now, with his weight grounding her, his warmth comforting her, she allowed herself to hold on to that small, fragile truth.

She wasn’t sure what the future held, but tonight, lying there with him in her arms, she was falling—and it was terrifyingly beautiful.

The next morning, Y/N stirred in the soft sheets, her hand reaching instinctively for the warmth beside her. But the bed was empty. Her eyes fluttered open, taking in the quiet room, sunlight streaming in through the curtains. She sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before swinging her legs over the side of the bed. 

She got dressed quickly, slipping into something comfortable before making her way through the quiet penthouse. When she reached the dining room, she found him seated at the table, his usual business attire sharp and polished, a stark contrast to the ease and vulnerability of the night before. A tray of food sat in front of him, but San wasn’t eating much—he was lost in thought, his expression distant as he stared out the window.

Y/N lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching him. It felt as if a subtle shift had occurred overnight, a quiet tension that neither of them had addressed yet. She approached the table, her footsteps soft on the floor.

“Morning,” she greeted with a small smile as she sat down across from him.

San blinked out of his thoughts and looked up at her, his lips curving into a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Morning,” he responded, his voice calm but laced with something heavier beneath the surface.

Y/N helped herself to some of the breakfast laid out, but she could feel his gaze lingering on her, the silence between them feeling different than usual. After a few moments, she glanced up at him. “What are you thinking about sitting here all by yourself ?,” she noted softly, studying him.

San sighed, setting his fork down and leaning back in his chair. He offered her a faint, almost self-deprecating smile. “The fact that this will be our last night together...and you'll finally be rid of me.” He said it in a light, joking tone, but Y/N could hear the weight underneath it—the way the words seemed to carry more than just casual humor.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, smirking as she responded playfully, “Oh, what a relief! Finally, some peace and quiet.” She winked at him, trying to keep the mood light, though her own heart raced at the thought of this arrangement coming to an end.

San chuckled softly, shaking his head at her teasing. But then his expression grew more serious, his eyes searching hers. He hesitated for a moment before continuing, “I would like to see you again.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she just stared at him, her mind racing. She had convinced herself that everything between them had been part of the deal—that his touch, his kisses, the tenderness he showed her had been because that was what he had paid for. But now, hearing him say this, she realized that maybe...just maybe...he had wanted to be close to her. He had wanted to kiss her, to hold her, to be with her.

She felt a surge of excitement rise in her chest, her heart pounding with a mixture of disbelief and joy. “You do?” she asked, her voice almost hesitant, as if she didn’t want to get her hopes up too high.

San nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “Yeah. I do,” he said simply, but there was an honesty in his voice that made her heart flutter. “I’ve realized I don’t want this to just end.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a smile, her eyes lighting up as she reached across the table, placing her hand over his. “I’d like that too,” she whispered, her voice full of warmth.

San’s fingers tightened around hers, a relieved smile spreading across his face. And in that moment, the tension that had been hanging in the air seemed to dissipate, replaced by something lighter, something hopeful. But then, as the joy settled in, San’s next words began to twist it into something else.

"Good," he said, relief evident in his tone. "Because I've already arranged for you to have an apartment, to have a car..." He continued, his words tumbling out easily as though he was sharing something wonderful. “And a wide variety of stores guaranteed to cater to you whenever you want to shop. Everything's taken care of.”

Y/N’s smile faltered. Her heart sank, and she felt the warmth from just moments ago cool into something that made her stomach knot. Her head dropped, and she brought her hands to her face, exhaling deeply as she tried to process what he had just said. She bent down over the table, her elbows braced against it.

"What else?" she muttered, her voice tinged with bitterness. "You gonna leave some money by the bed when you pass through town?"

San’s smile disappeared, the weight of her words landing hard. He shook his head slightly, his tone gentle but defensive. “Y/N, it wouldn’t be like that.”

Y/N straightened, standing up as frustration bubbled inside her. “How would it be, then?” she countered, her voice sharper, edged with hurt.

San looked at her, trying to explain, though his words were stumbling now. “Well, for one thing, it would get you off the streets.”

She scoffed, the dismissive sound cutting through the air between them. “That’s just geography,” she shot back, her voice growing quieter but no less powerful. She turned and walked toward the terrace, her steps steady but her heart aching.

San watched her go, the weight of his good intentions landing wrong, and his chest tightened with the realization that he might have misunderstood what she needed from him. Y/N walked out onto the terrace, the cool morning air brushing against her skin, offering a momentary escape from the tension that had gripped her heart. She leaned on the railing, staring out at the cityscape, trying to make sense of the swirl of emotions within her.

Inside, San remained seated at the breakfast table for a moment, his mind racing. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, hadn’t wanted to make her feel less than what she was to him. Realizing he needed to fix this, he stood up and followed her to the terrace, pausing at the door.

"What is it you want?" San asked, his voice softer now, tinged with uncertainty. "What do you see happening between us?"

Y/N didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she let out a sigh, her gaze still fixed on the distant skyline. "I don’t know, San," she began, her voice carrying a wistful tone. "You know... when I was a little girl, I loved hearing the story of Rapunzel. When I was bad, which was pretty often, I would pretend I was a princess... trapped in a tower by a wicked queen. And then, suddenly, this knight on a white horse with his colors flying would come charging up and draw his sword. And I would wave. And he would climb up the tower and rescue me."

Finally, Y/N turned to face San, her eyes meeting his as she walked toward him. The weight of her words hung between them, a longing she hadn’t even realized she still carried.

"But never in all the time... that I had this dream did the knight say to me, 'Come on, baby, I'll put you up in a great condo.'" Her voice was quiet, but the impact of her words hit San hard, making him realize how deeply he had misunderstood her needs.

As they stood there, the phone rang inside the penthouse, cutting through the silence like a jarring reminder of the world outside. San hesitated for a second before turning and walking back into the penthouse to answer it.

“Yes,” he responded curtly, his voice taking on a sharp edge. Y/N watched him from the terrace, knowing instinctively that the call was work-related. She couldn’t hear the conversation, but she knew the look on his face all too well. Business was pulling him away—again.

"No, it's no good. If he's really caving in, I don't want to wait until this afternoon. Have him meet me downtown this morning. Goodbye." San hung up the phone, his expression set as he grabbed his jacket from a nearby chair. He slipped it on as he walked back toward Y/N, who was now standing just inside the room.

"I have to go," he said, his voice laced with an urgency he couldn’t entirely mask. "But I want you to understand... I heard everything you said. This is all I'm capable of right now. It's a very big step for me."

Y/N nodded absently, reaching up to straighten his tie, the small gesture a contrast to the turmoil in her heart. "I know. It's a really good offer for a girl like me," she replied, her voice resigned, her eyes reflecting a sadness that cut deep into San’s heart.

He searched her face, the look of defeat and disappointment foreign and painful to witness. "I've never treated you like a prostitute," he said, his voice earnest, almost pleading. He wanted her to understand, to see that he was trying, even if he was failing.

But as he turned and walked away toward the front door, Y/N stood there, watching him go. Out of his hearing, she whispered to the empty room, "You just did."

San sat at his desk, the weight of the decision he’d made settling in his chest. The room around him hummed with the quiet efficiency of his team, all focused on the deal that had been the center of attention for weeks. They had poured everything into it—time, effort, resources. All of it for a partnership that San had now decided to pull away from.

He knew Song-Ho would be livid. The man had already sent him several messages throughout the day, trying to figure out why the deal had suddenly fallen apart. But San didn’t care. It was his company, and at the end of the day, the decision was his to make. He refused to associate himself with an organization whose values clashed so strongly with his own. The more he thought about it, the more he knew he had made the right choice.

His thoughts drifted, however, back to something—or rather, someone—far more pressing: Y/N. The memory of her standing on that terrace, her words still echoing in his mind, tugged at his chest. He had left her with little reassurance, unsure of what to say, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. What was he going to do? How could he bridge the gap between them?

With a sigh, San stood from his desk, his decision made. There were still loose ends to tie up, but right now, they could wait. Without a word, he grabbed his jacket and strode out of his office. His assistant blinked in surprise as he passed, but she said nothing, only watching as he made his way to the elevator.

He got to his car and drove off, where to he hand't quite figured out yet. His mind was a tangle of thoughts, but all of them led back to Y/N. Before he knows it, he sees the park and moves towards it. When he finally arrived, San parked his car near the same grassy field they had spent time in just the other day. He slipped off his shoes before stepping onto the grass, feeling the cool earth beneath his feet. It grounded him, if only for a moment.

As he wandered through the park, he watched families laughing and playing, couples sitting close on blankets, their worlds narrowed down to just each other. The park was alive with the hum of life, and yet San felt like an outsider looking in. His mind continued to race. He had spent so much time in control of everything—his company, his life. But with Y/N, things were different. He wasn’t sure how to navigate this unfamiliar terrain, wasn’t sure what his next move should be.

He stopped walking and stood in the middle of the field, his eyes scanning the scene around him. Part of him longed for that same simple happiness he saw in the people around him, that unspoken ease of connection. It was something he hadn’t thought he wanted until now.

San’s gaze drifted to the horizon, his thoughts circling back to Y/N, wondering if he could really have something more with her. Something real. 

Meanwhile, Y/N moved to the penthouse living room. The doorbell rang, the sound sending a slight jolt through Y/N. She placed the large box she had been holding on the floor, already feeling a pit form in her stomach as she approached the door. When she opened it, her unease solidified into a deep, unsettling dread. Song-Ho stood there, a sneer twisting his features.

“Well, well. Hello again,” Song-Ho drawled, his voice slick with malice. Y/N’s grip on the door tightened as she tried to mask her discomfort. “I’m looking for San.”

Y/N stood firm in the doorway, unwilling to let him see the full effect his presence had on her. “He’s not here. I thought he was with you,” she replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

“No, uh, San is definitely not with me.” Without waiting for an invitation, he pushed past her, stepping inside as if he owned the place. The audacity made her skin crawl, but she closed the door behind him.

“No, if San were with me…” Song-Ho said as he put his briefcase down, his tone mocking as he walked deeper into the room, “...he wouldn’t be blowing off billion-dollar deals.” He made his way to the bar, helping himself to a drink. Y/N watched him with growing unease, knowing that he was here for more than just small talk.

“I think San’s with you. That’s what I think,” he said with a dark chuckle. He poured himself a generous glass of whiskey, raising it toward her as if offering her some.

“No, thank you,” she muttered, her voice tight. She moved away from him, her nerves on edge.

“Well, I’ll just wait.” Song-Ho settled himself on a stool by the bar, his gaze never leaving her. Y/N walked over to the sofa and sat down, crossing her legs beneath her and grabbing her notebook, trying to create some semblance of normalcy. But his eyes, sharp and predatory, followed her every move.

"San should be home soon," she didn't know who she was saying it to. Didn't know if it was meant for Song-Ho, or herself. 

Song-Ho stood up and moved toward her, the menace in his steps making her heart pound faster. He chuckled again, the sound sending a chill down her spine. “You know… this isn’t home. And you…” he gestured to her, a cruel smirk playing on his lips, “...you’re not the little woman.”

He sat down on the sofa next to her, too close for comfort. Y/N uncrossed her legs, trying to ground herself, but every fiber of her being was tense.

“You’re a hooker,” Song-Ho sneered, his tone casual but cutting. “Maybe you’re a very good hooker, huh?”

Y/N set her notebook down, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to remain composed. But he moved closer, his sneer growing as he sensed her discomfort. “Maybe if I do you, I wouldn’t care about losing millions of dollars.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as his hand reached for her bare leg, his touch invasive and unwelcome. She swatted his hand away, glaring at him with all the strength she could muster.

“I have to be honest with you, Y/N,” he continued, undeterred. His voice was low and venomous, and he leaned in closer. “I’m really pissed right now. So maybe if I screw you...”

His hand inched between her legs. Y/N shoved it away, panic rising in her chest. “Get off me!” she snapped, her voice shaking but fierce.

But Song-Ho didn’t stop. He grinned, leaning in closer. “Come on, I’ll take you out. Make you feel good, just like San.”

The situation escalated quickly. Y/N fought against his advances, her body twisting as she tried to push him away. Her heart raced, fear clawing at her as his hand came at her again. She bit down hard on his hand, drawing a curse from his lips.

“Goddamn it!” he snarled, the back of his hand connecting sharply with her face. Y/N gasped as the force sent her tumbling onto the floor. Dazed, she felt him grab her roughly, his voice leering over her as he pinned her down.

“Come on! I’ll pay for it!” he growled, his voice dripping with cruelty. “How much is it? Twenty bucks, thirty bucks?”

Y/N screamed, struggling against his grip, her voice cracking with desperation. “Get off me! Get off!”

“Fifty? You a fifty-dollar whore, Y/N?” he spat.

Before Song-Ho could say another word, he was ripped away from her with a violent force. San had entered the room silently, his face a storm of fury as he yanked Song-Ho to his feet and shoved him back, the sheer intensity of his anger vibrating through the air. Song-Ho’s smugness faltered instantly, fear flashing in his eyes as he realized the consequences of his actions were far from over.

San’s eyes burned with a cold, quiet rage as he held Song-Ho by the collar, his grip vice-like and unrelenting. He forced him up to his feet, the air around them charged with the tension of barely restrained violence.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” San’s voice was low, dangerously calm, but the fury behind it was unmistakable. Song-Ho’s bravado crumbled, his sneer replaced by a flicker of panic as he glanced nervously at San’s clenched jaw.

“San, man—” Song-Ho tried to speak, but San cut him off sharply, shoving him back another step.

“Shut up,” San hissed. His hands flexed as if he was fighting the urge to do something far worse to the man before him. “You come in here, into my place, and pull this shit?” His voice dropped even lower, lethal in its coldness. “Touch her again, and I swear to God, you won’t walk out of here.”

Song-Ho’s hands came up defensively, his eyes wide. “I didn’t—”

“You did,” San bit out, his grip tightening on Song-Ho’s shirt. For a moment, it looked like he might lose control, his anger crackling through the air like static electricity. But then, with a sharp exhale, he released Song-Ho, giving him a final shove that sent him stumbling back.

“Get out,” San said, his voice still dangerous but more controlled now. “Get out before I change my mind about letting you leave in one piece.”

Song-Ho, realizing the severity of the situation, straightened his shirt hastily and backed away toward the door. He cast a final, hateful glance at Y/N before scurrying out of the penthouse, his footsteps quick and unsteady.

The moment the door slammed shut behind him, the tension in the room shifted. San stood there for a long moment, his hands still balled into fists as he stared at the door, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. His anger was palpable, but beneath it, there was a deep well of concern.

He turned around slowly, his eyes searching for Y/N. She was still on the floor, her breath shaky as she tried to compose herself. Her face bore the red mark of Song-Ho’s slap, and her expression was a mix of shock and fear.

Without a word, San crossed the room and knelt down beside her. His expression softened immediately as he reached out, gently cupping her face in his hands. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and thick with worry.

Y/N nodded, though her body trembled from the adrenaline. She didn’t trust her voice to respond, so instead, she leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hands grounding her in the moment.

San’s thumb brushed over the reddened skin on her cheek, his jaw clenching again, but this time in sorrow rather than anger. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his gaze locking onto hers. “I’m so sorry this happened.”

Y/N shook her head slightly. “It’s not your fault,” she whispered, her voice soft but firm.

San sighed, pulling her into his arms. His embrace was strong and protective, a silent promise that he wouldn’t let anything like this happen again. He held her close, his chin resting on top of her head as her breath began to even out.

For a long moment, they just sat there in the quiet of the room, the remnants of the confrontation lingering in the air. But it was the comfort of San’s arms that eased Y/N’s tension, allowing her to feel safe again despite what had just transpired.

San pulled back slightly, looking down at her with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. “I’m going to take care of you, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice full of sincerity. “You’re not just some woman I paid for. You mean more to me than that. You’re more.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat at his words, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She could feel the depth of his emotions in every word, every look. San wasn’t just saying these things to placate her; he meant them.

San’s gaze softened, and he gave her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right back,” he said, his voice tender.

He moved into the kitchen, and a few moments later, he returned holding a box filled with ice cubes. Y/N watched as he carefully removed the cubes, wrapping them in a white napkin. His movements were deliberate, his focus solely on the task at hand.

He sat beside her on the sofa, gently pressing the wrapped ice to her bruised cheek. Y/N flinched slightly from the cold, but the discomfort was outweighed by the tenderness of his touch.

“Why do guys always seem to know just how to hit a woman right across the cheek?” Y/N asked with a faint, pained smile. “Wham! It feels like your eye’s going to explode. Do they pull you aside in high school and teach you how to do this?”

San didn’t respond to her words, his attention entirely on the ice pack he was pressing gently against her cheek. The light touch was still a bit painful, but it was a relief compared to the sting from earlier.

“Is that... Ow!” Y/N winced slightly, the cold still sharp but soothing.

“Not all guys hit,” San said quietly, his voice steady and reassuring. Y/N gave a small, appreciative smile despite the discomfort, touched by his concern and care. As San continued to hold the ice gently against her face, the room seemed to settle into a new, more peaceful quiet—one filled with unspoken understanding and the promise of a better, safer future.

After a moment, Y/N gently moved his hand away from her face and began to sit up. “I think this is okay now,” she said softly. “I need to get going.”

San glanced around and noted her packed bags. “I see you’re ready to leave. Why now?”

Y/N sighed, standing up from the sofa. “San, there’ll always be someone, even someone you know, who’ll think they can treat me like Song-Ho did, that it’s somehow acceptable. What are you going to do? Beat up everyone who thinks like that?” She shook her head. “I know you can’t do that.”

San’s expression grew serious. “That’s not why you’re leaving.”

Y/N picked up her jacket and began to put on her shoes. “You made me a really generous offer. A few months ago, it would have been perfect. But things have changed, and you can’t undo that. I... I want more.”

San moved to stand beside her. “I understand wanting more. I’ve spent my life chasing more. But the question is, how much more?”

“I want the fairy tale,” Y/N said, a sad smile playing on her lips. As she fastened her jacket, she glanced at San, who had taken out his wallet and removed some money. He placed the wallet on a nearby table and sat down on the steps next to her, handing her the money.

“Thank you,” Y/N said, slipping the money into her jacket pocket.

“You're welcome,” San replied, holding out a business card. “If you ever need anything—dental floss or otherwise—just give me a call.”

They both shared a brief chuckle, and Y/N looked at him with a lingering sadness. “I had a good time,” she said softly.

“Me too,” San replied with a warm smile. Y/N stood up and started gathering her luggage.

“Do you want me to call a bellboy for you?” San asked as he bent down to pick up a bag.

“No, I’ve got it,” Y/N replied, heading toward the front door. San moved ahead of her and opened it, but then paused and closed it again.

“Stay,” he said earnestly. “Stay the night with me. Not because I’m paying you, but because you want to.”

Y/N paused at the door, her hand resting on the handle as she looked back at San. The room was filled with a heavy silence, the weight of his offer hanging in the air. Her heart pounded as she considered his words, the hope in his eyes mingling with the uncertainty in her own.

“San, I…” She hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know.”

San stepped closer, his expression earnest and vulnerable. “You don’t have to say anything. Just stay. Give us a chance to figure things out, without the pressure of all the expectations and the roles we’ve been playing.”

Y/N’s eyes searched his face, trying to read the sincerity behind his words. The vulnerability in his gaze, combined with the genuine concern he had shown her, made her heart ache. She had wanted more, but the idea of staying, of letting herself be vulnerable in a different way, was daunting.

“I want to stay,” she admitted quietly, “but I’m afraid.”

San reached out and took her hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “I understand. We’ll take it one step at a time. Just us, figuring it out together.”

Y/N looked at him, her resolve strengthening as she took in the earnestness in his eyes. She nodded slowly, a small, hopeful smile forming on her lips. “Okay.”

San’s face lit up with a relieved smile. “Thank you,” he said softly. He gently led her back into the living room, his hand still holding hers. As they settled back onto the sofa, the tension that had been there earlier seemed to dissolve, replaced by a new, more hopeful sense of connection.

They sat in silence for a few moments, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside. San reached out and took her hand in his, holding it gently as if it were something precious. Y/N leaned into his side, feeling the warmth of his presence and the comfort of his touch.

As the night wore on, they talked and laughed, their earlier sadness replaced by a sense of peace and possibility. For the first time, Y/N felt like she was truly seen and understood, and San felt a renewed sense of hope and connection. They had taken a leap of faith together, and it felt like the beginning of something new and promising.

The room was filled with a soft, warm light, casting gentle shadows on the walls. The city outside continued its rhythmic dance of lights and sounds, but inside the penthouse, there was a quiet intimacy that wrapped around them like a comforting blanket. And as they sat together, hand in hand, they both knew that whatever came next, they would face it together.

Epilogue:

Y/N was seated on Seoyeon's bed, the two women enjoying a rare moment of calm. Seoyeon was in the midst of preparing for her day, her movements quick and practiced. The room was filled with the soft rustle of fabric and the hum of their conversation.

"I’m starting college soon," Y/N said with a bright smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I’m finally going to get that degree I’ve always dreamed of."

Seoyeon paused in her preparations, turning to face Y/N with a warm smile. "That’s fantastic, Y/N. I’m really proud of you. If anyone deserves to get out of this life, it’s you."

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, a mix of laughter and shared memories filling the room. But the moment was abruptly interrupted by the distant sound of a car honking.

Seoyeon’s brow furrowed in irritation as she glanced toward the window. "Who the hell is that? It’s like a parade out there."

Y/N’s curiosity was piqued. She set aside the magazine she had been leafing through and moved to the window, peering out. As the honking grew louder, her expression shifted from curiosity to delight. A broad smile spread across her face.

Outside, a sleek, black limousine glided slowly toward the hotel. The roof of the car was open, and San’s familiar face appeared, his upper body visible. He was holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a black umbrella in the other. The car’s honking persisted, and the limousine finally came to a stop in front of the hotel.

Y/N’s laughter bubbled up, a mix of joy and disbelief. “Oh my God, it’s San!”

San was waving both the umbrella and the bouquet with exaggerated enthusiasm. His driver, stepping out of the vehicle, watched with a bemused expression as San continued his dramatic gestures. Y/N’s excitement was palpable as she waved back, momentarily forgetting everything else.

Seoyeon watched with an amused expression, shaking her head. “Your boyfriend seems like a psychopath.”

Y/N, still grinning, quickly moved to the emergency exit and stepped out onto the narrow balcony. She looked down at San, who was now standing confidently on the sidewalk, his eyes locked on her with a mix of affection and determination.

“What the hell are you doing?” Y/N called out, her voice carrying over the noise of the city.

San looked up at her, his grin widening. “Princess Y/N! Come down! I’ve got a surprise for you!”

Y/N’s heart raced with anticipation. “I’ll be down in a minute!” she shouted back, her excitement growing. She turned to head back inside, but not before giving San one last, joyful look.

Seoyeon chuckled from inside the room. “He’s definitely got a flair for the dramatic.”

With a final smile, Y/N hurried down the emergency stairs, her mind racing with what San might have planned. As she descended, her thoughts were filled with the promise of a new chapter, one that was beginning with a grand, unforgettable gesture from someone she had come to care deeply for.

Y/N descended the last ladder of the emergency exit with a mix of eagerness and anticipation. As her feet touched the ground, she found San standing there, his hands now empty after having passed the flowers and umbrella to his driver.

Without missing a beat, San extended his arms toward her. With a strong, reassuring grip, he hoisted her into his embrace, pulling her down gently but securely. His touch was warm, and his eyes sparkled with genuine affection.

"Hi, baby," Y/N said giddily, her voice bubbling with excitement as she looked up at him. The sheer joy of the moment made her heart race, and she could hardly contain her smile.

San’s face lit up with a tender, adoring smile as he held her close. “Hi there,” he replied, his voice soft and filled with warmth. He looked down at her with an intensity that made her feel like she was the only person in the world.

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the city bustling around them but feeling like a distant backdrop to their private moment. The world seemed to narrow down to just the two of them, and everything else fell away.

San finally set her down gently, but he kept his hands resting on her shoulders, his gaze never leaving hers. “I missed you,” he confessed, his tone earnest and filled with emotion.  San’s arms remained around Y/N as he leaned down to kiss her. The kiss was tender and full of longing, a moment that seemed to stretch on forever. Y/N melted into the embrace, her heart swelling with affection as she wrapped her arms around his neck, savoring the connection between them.

After a few blissful moments, they pulled away slightly, their foreheads resting against each other. Y/N’s eyes sparkled with a mix of happiness and curiosity. “You just saw me this morning,” she said with a teasing smile, her voice soft yet filled with wonder.

San’s eyes twinkled mischievously as he smiled back at her. “Ah, but you see, sometimes grand gestures are necessary to remind the people you love just how much they mean to you,” he said, his voice dripping with dramatic flair.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. “And I had a feeling you might need an escape from Seoyeon’s endless chatter. I thought this would be the perfect way to sweep you off your feet.” His words were spoken with a blend of sincerity and affection, making Y/N’s heart flutter even more.

Y/N’s smile widened as she looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude and love. “You always know how to make everything feel special,” she said softly.

San gave her a playful wink and took her hand, guiding her towards the awaiting limousine. “Come on, let’s go. I have a whole day planned for us, and I want to make sure it’s unforgettable.”

Together, they walked towards the car, their laughter mingling with the city sounds as they stepped into the luxurious vehicle, ready to embark on an adventure that was as thrilling and unique as their love story.

[malereadermaniac]

Serial Cheater ~ Mako x Male Reader

This takes place somewhere along season 2 - Mako having just broken up with Korra and chatting to Asami again You are a core member of team Avatar! word count: 750 - Short fic! Sorry lol m!reader (no genitalia mentioned) / FDNI

Even though Mako is the kind of guy fan girls swoon over, most people would say that he's pretty down to earth

Your friends wouldn't describe Mako as flirty or as a serial romantic

But for the entire time you've known the muscular fire bender, some things have stuck out to you - most notably that he is, in fact, a flirt and a serial cheater (on accident)

Mako never actually means any harm to the girls he dates, but you have noticed a trend in his dating patterns of dating drop-dead gorgeous girls with a little overlap between them

It may just be the law of attraction - maybe Mako is just a magnet to romance and he can't help it

But it's most definitely a fact that if an opportunity is presented to the police officer, he takes it

And that is exactly what got the both of you into this situation

Mako and you were hanging out, Korra away somewhere on avatar business and everyone else at their respective jobs

The two of you were just chilling in Mako's apartment, having ordered take-out and drinking some new companies mass-produced rice-wine

As conversations drifted from one to the other, Mako started to vent about his highly active love-life

Being a good friend, you listened to the tall police officer - nodding along to assure him that you're listening to his ramble about his feelings for Korra and also for Asami

You of course throw in a joking comment or two at Mako's adulterous nature, but all in all you listen to his problems and offer your comfort

And your comforting and caring nature, mixed with the alcohol in Mako's system, was what resulted in your current situation

That being you on Mako's lap, making out with you handsome friend

Yes, you broke the kiss initially

Yes, you said you two shouldn't do this because of your close friendship with both of Mako's love interests

Yes, Mako begged for your warm, soft lips and for your comfort

And yes, you gave in...

Even though Mako was just yapping on about kissing Asami less than 24 hours ago, his chiseled face and warm brown eyes drew you in like an inescapable black hole

As the two of you made out, clothing started to make its way off of your body - the air in Mako's apartment becoming hotter and stuffier

But as your nude chest rubbed against the handsome man's pecs, a knock of the door forced you two apart

"Mako? Hey I wanna... talk about earlier!" you could hear your dear friend's voice shout

Asami was behind that door, and you most certainly didn't want her to walk in and see you and her not-so-boyfriend-boyfriend getting it on

You and Mako struggle to get off of one another and desperately reach for your clothes to cover up

You head to the bathroom to hide and dress back up as Mako let's Asami in to talk

You over-hear the two as you wait in your friends' tiny bathroom

Their conversation had ups and downs, but it definitely ended in an up

You peaked out of the crack between the door frame and the door, watching as Asami and Mako kissed goodbye

As the front door shut, you open the bathroom door and lean on the frame

"Sooo... looks like you really just can't help yourself" you say with a smirk to Mako

The tall man chuckles as he walks over to you

"Heh... yeah, I guess so"

"I don't think you deny being a playboy much longer, haha..." you joke

Mako holds you head up with his soft hand to make you look him in the eye - Mako's height being emphasised

"Shut up... and what if I am?" Mako half-lids his eyes as he focuses on your features

And while you know that it's a dick move on your part, breaking Asami's and even Korra's trust, you couldn't help but push your lips against Mako's

Your hands rest on Mako's strong chest, his tongue slipping past your lips as his masculine hands slip onto your waist

"That's what I'd do if your were... Hmhm~" you laugh after breaking from Mako's warm lips

The two of you laugh as the strong man picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist and your arms around his neck

As Mako makes his way to his bed, all thoughts of guilt float out and away from your brain

[nicoleheichou]

i miss you, don't call me - chapter 36 : caught!

♡ masterlist ♡ - 《 prev | next 》

synopsis: when your acting careers start to pick up you and your boyfriend zoro both decide that it's better to go your separate ways. you didn't want to, but you knew he was right. fast forward to a couple years later, when you're finally starting to heal, your friends score a deal to shoot a movie together with your ex and you're starting to think maybe you haven't really moved on.

you groan as your alarm goes off. you tiredly glance at the screen and see it's only 5 in the morning. you toss the covers off and rub at your eyes. you sigh as you get up and slip on a hoodie, stumbling in the dark to gather your belongings. "why did i have to be the one caught leaving at the ass crack of dawn?" you grumble to yourself as you walk down the hallway towards ace's room. you pop your head through the door and see him slowly stirring.

"mmm, is it already time for you to leave?" he mumbles as he turns his head to face you. "yeah, come on. you need to get caught saying goodbye to me." you say as you motion for him to follow you. he groans before trailing behind you towards the front door. "are you sure you don't want me to drop you off? i seem like a shitty boyfriend making you find your way home after spending the night." he stifles a yawn as he steps into his slides. you shake your head as you slip on your shoes.

"whitebeard has one of the company drivers waiting for me across the street. you just have to walk me to the car and give me a hug and kiss." he yawns again before holding the door open for you. "alright, let's get this over with."

he shuts the door behind him before throwing an arm around your shoulder. "let's never do this again." he says as he pulls you closer, wanting to keep warm in the cold early morning. "it might not be in the contract anymore, but unfortunately, you don't get to decide that." you reach up and give his hand a pat.

as you approach the car, ace turns to face you. "text me when you get home shorty." you nod your head, looking over ace's shoulder and noticing the photographer across the street with their camera pointed towards you. you move to play your part, wrapping your arms around ace's neck, pulling him towards you and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. you pull away after a few seconds, a smile on your lips.

"trying so hard not to gag." he teases and you can't help but roll your eyes. "i could say the same thing, your morning breath is rank." you joke before pulling away. "oh shut up." he rolls his eyes before holding the door open for you and helping you in. "i'll see you later." you nod and signal for the driver to go. once the driver pulls away you let out a sigh of relief. the only thought in your mind being that hopefully zoro doesn't feel hurt when he sees those pictures.

luffy is doing his best to play his part lmao.

poor sanji just wants love lol

as usual, leave a comment and let me know your thoughts! just know it really motivates me when i see your comments. even if you write things in the tags lol.

taglist is open! just send an ask or leave a comment.

taglist: @queen-aria-things @soranihimawari @youraggedybitch @captaincyberqueen @yukichan67 @roselleviennesstuff @yukimaniac @minssecret @meosq @himezoro @youmake1mistake @aixaingela @ayeputita @writing-wh0re @asterizee @redpool @hikkarins @chamomilespetal @murnsondock @firefistsimp @mimisweetz @moonlight-dreamer04 @shuujin @gespirida @diarythroughmylens @haitaniwhor3 @songbirdemerald-blog @xenop0p @alatushours

[verysium]

some hcs abt the bllk boys doing modeling shoots as pro-players? (like what they’d model for and the ways they captivate their audiences and stuff)? ty and love ur works btw 💞💞🫡

idk why but this ask made my brain freeze up and refuse to write anything for 3 days, so apologies if this is late anon:

sae would be so done. i mean....he walked out on a literal interview, so what makes you think he won't walk out on a photoshoot? he probably hates the very idea of plastering his face all over billboards and magazines. but his manager said that he was in desperate need of good publicity, especially after that stunt he pulled with the last commercial endorsement. if sae was forced to model though, he'd definitely be as stiff as a board. no facial expressions whatsoever and always sticks to one pose. oftentimes, this involves him facing the wall and only showing half his face. if the photographer wants a full frontal, he's going to have to deal with sae's "i don't want to be here and i'm being held hostage" face. even if sae does try smiling, it looks more like a grimace. the only redeeming quality here is that he is good-looking. if you look at the official art, he doesn't even have to try to get all of you drooling over him. that face card does not decline. like ever. so the shoots usually wrap up pretty quickly because out of the 100 images taken, at least half are going to be usable. he's photogenic from any angle.

kaiser would strike a pose for everything, even his own mugshot. i picture him as that one johnny depp advertisement for dior sauvage. blue lighting. a silk blouse with the top button open to show off a sliver of his sculpted chest. his hair is slicked back with gel, and his knuckles are decorated with silver rings. the tattoo just pulls everything together. if not a perfume commercial, then i think he'd model for adidas or some other german brand (maybe even a beer company if he's old enough). i don't think he has any trouble with the actual modeling part of process. he knows how to flaunt himself. the only issue is that kaiser is a lazy perfectionist. he would show up late to the shoots and then stays even later just looking through the shots and choosing which ones to include. puts a lot of time and effort into things like this. after all, his image and his brand are important to him.

shidou would be sponsored by an energy drink brand. like red bull or monster. if not that, then axe body spray lol. as for modeling, i feel like he wouldn't be able to sit still. probably pulls out crazy poses that piss the photographers off on purpose. it always cracks me up how one of his first appearances in the manga is him being muzzled and restrained in a straitjacket inside blue lock's time-out zone. he's so chaotic. you would have to hold him down and shove the camera into his face to actually get a good shot. i also picture him wearing lots of black leather, maybe even silver jewelry (eg. studs, piercings). and of course, you can't forget the hot pink accents.

isagi would model for family-friendly brands. if not that, then just japanese brands in general. i imagine him doing skincare commercials for shiseido or maybe even participating in a campaign for UNIQLO. as for modeling, he would be awkward at first but then gradually get the hang of it. always thanks the team afterwards and is very mindful of the photographer's suggestions. everyone says he is a pleasure to work with.

rin would model for luxury watch brands like TAG heuer or IWC. maybe when he grows older and further develops his career, he might even become an ambassador for louis vuitton or bulgari. overall, his advertisements are very elegant and professional. only endorses high quality products. never looks at the shots afterwards because he hates looking at his own face. gets somewhat embarrassed when his mama points out his billboards and makes clippings of his magazine covers. he absolutely flipped when a brand suggested that he do a collaboration with his brother. so when this collaboration actually did take place, it was like a repeat of the whole messi-ronaldo photoshoot. they didn't actually meet on set. they were just photoshopped together into the same frame.

barou models for calvin klein. lots of denim and shirtless photos. all of the staff got nosebleeds, and his fanbase went wild when the issue was finally released. there's this one image his fans worship religiously where he's posing in his boxers and there's a clear shot of his abs and happy trail. (he's so hot wtf) there's also another shot that wasn't used cus a million people would've been deceased. he's standing there with his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans and wearing nothing underneath his denim jacket. his hair is also down, and his skin is all sun-kissed and golden.

reo models streetwear, and this is canon because he has the drip. honestly, his duality needs to be studied because he can go from high class gentleman to bad boy who wears chains and knuckle rings. he'd try all different sorts of styles, and he'd look good doing it. out of all the bllk boys, i feel like reo gets the most sponsorship deals because of his versatility. he does the styling, hair, makeup, posing, editing, etc. honestly, they need to hire him as a creative director already. nagi would tag along behind the scenes, but he'd end up scrolling on his phone the entire day.

[loquaciousquark]

"Please don't leave me/I can't do this without you" from anonymous (caretaker - 20); "dance with me" from @sasskarian (flowers - viscaria); "come down/come back" from anonymous (flowers - Jacob's ladder).

3000 words, set mid-Act 3. I had too much fun with this one, so you'll have to forgive the self-indulgence.

—

“Say it.”

“Certainly not.”

“Say it.” Tav’s whisper had taken on the wheedling quality that it always did when she was laughing at his expense. “Please don’t leave me, darling. I can’t do this without you.”

“I’ll rot first,” Astarion snapped, and he heard Tav stifle a snort of laughter in her own arm. A few rustles followed as she clearly settled down to wait on the other side of the cell wall; Astarion guessed they were roughly back to back, even if six inches of solid stone separated them. He stretched out his legs in the thin, disgusting straw that covered the prison floor, crossed his bare ankles, and closed his eyes. “How utterly useless you are.”

“I’m not the one in Heapside.”

“For once in your life,” Astarion said bitterly, and he heard her laugh again. “Wretched, half-witted clod. Watching me paraded away by three Fists—three of them—for no reason at all. Not even an attempt to save me. An innocent man!”

“You stole a melon in broad daylight.”

“Half a melon. From an abandoned picnic blanket in the middle of the park without a single soul in sight to complain.” He curled his lip in annoyance. “I’d picked it up for you, darling.”

“Liar.”

She was right—he’d taken it as idly as Gale humming while he cooked—but Astarion was in no mood to entertain conciliation. “Well! As charming as it is to sit here and listen to you gloat, my dear, I apparently have a gods-damned sentencing to await.” He thumped his head back against the wall in annoyance. “Nearly two hundred years successfully avoiding this execrable place, and you have me slung in here within a handful of months.”

“I just wanted to share the joy with you.”

“Please don’t.”

“Shut up in there,” one of the guards said sharply. He rattled a cudgel against the bars of Astarion’s cell, then peered into the dim shadows. “Who the hells are you talking to?”

“Myself, darling,” Astarion drawled. “The best company one can dredge up in this awful place.” He rapped a knuckle against the wall behind his head. “Tell me, what’s behind here? Storage? Another cell?” He leered. “Somewhere you and I might be a little more…private?”

“Fink,” he heard Tav breathe through the cracked stone.

The guard flinched, blushed, and smacked the iron bars again. “Nothing for you to care about. Shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you.”

“I suppose my fortitude is robust enough to endure the mystery,” Astarion said aloud, and the guard continued on his route, still grumbling. After a moment, with the last bare vestiges of his temper, Astarion hissed, “Well?”

A series of images raised themselves before his mind’s eye, like a cardsharp rifling through a trick deck. A loose stone about two feet to his left, displaced just enough for Tav to slide through a wrapped set of her lockpicks. A great storage chest in the middle of the main prison floor, made of oak and reinforced with iron straps, where all his stripped belongings had been stored. A view of the main room through a cracked door—the door to the privy hallway where Tav was hidden—and the pair of guards playing checkers at the back table, swords ready at hand beside them.

Excellent. He didn’t bother to work out a plan—they never seemed to come right anyway—but as he laid one surreptitious hand on the loose stone, he felt Tav hold it in place from the other side, preventing him from taking the tools. “Please, darling. Don’t be a bore.”

“Tell me you can’t do it without me.”

“I’ll shout your name to the bloody rafters if you don’t let go.”

“How stupid that I still love you,” he heard her sigh, and the stone released.

Ignoring the swoop his heart gave at that, Astarion quickly unrolled the leather and perused her tools. This part of his cell was exceedingly dark, and he had to pause with affected unconcern for a moment or two as the patrolling guard made another lap. Even so, he could see enough to be disgusted. “Ugh.”

“What?”

“Your tension wrench has a bend in the neck.” He grimaced. “And your long rake is missing altogether. Darling, you live like this?”

“Why would I need a rake when I have the half-diamond?” Ah, there was real irritation in her voice now. Entertainment at last. “And you bent the tension rod, remember? When you borrowed it in the basement of Sorcerous Sundries, after your own melted in that fire trap.”

“I don’t recall,” he said in that offhanded way that he knew infuriated her, and he tucked the rest of the rolled-up toolkit into his shirtsleeve. “Honestly! I’m amazed you’ve ever unlocked anything lately.”

The gasp of outrage made him choke on his own laughter. “Idiot!” she said, the whisper almost slipping into full voice, and then he heard a shuffle behind the wall. “You’re on your own. Tymora keep you in your escape, because I certainly won’t.”

“Come now, darling, don’t be petty.” Astarion paused, but there was no answering retort, no further whisper or step. He reached out with the tadpole, but it rebounded off her mind like a hammer off an anvil, and he winced at the recoil.

She’d wholly shut him out. She’d actually left him here in this Heapside cell by himself. He was shocked at his own dismay. “Tavish? I demand you come back.”

“I told you to shut up in there!”

Silence.

Gods. She’d left him. Two hundred years knowing himself utterly alone and friendless, and the betrayal still felt as new and agonizing as a white-hot poker between the ribs. Gods below. He wanted to rip out his dead heart and crush it. He knew he could get out easily with what she’d slipped him—knew these cells would be as porous as she’d described—but by the Hells, that wasn’t the point—

“What are you waiting for?” Tav hissed.

Relief crashed over him like an upturned bucket of water. “I thought you’d left,” he gasped, unable to pretend away the fear.

“I would never really leave you,” she said shortly, as if it were obvious. Her voice was a little further away, he realized, and a little lower, as if she’d crouched deeper in some shadow, but she was still here, still with him, and the tremendous comfort that provided was at once appalling and invigorating. “I wouldn’t leave my worst enemy here. Well—maybe Gortash, I guess. But you? No. Never.”

“Good,” Astarion said, thoroughly shaken. “I’d hate to have to snap this tension wrench the rest of the way.”

“I’ll snap your fingers if you do. Are you ready?”

“Naturally, darling. Do try to keep up.” He clambered to his feet, stretched, then went to the door of his cell, where he casually folded his arms against the bars. “Guard! Oh, guard! Come here—something’s the matter with my lodgings.”

“Tyr’s right hand,” the man sighed, circling the room’s central pillar to come to him. “You���re noisier than a fleet of jackdaws. What’s wrong with you now?”

“Any number of things,” Astarion said, letting the annoyance bleed through every word. As the guard reached his door, a shadow flickered behind him. It was gone in an instant, and a moment later one of the braziers on the pillar went out with a little puff of smoke. “I’ll settle at the moment for the straw, however.”

“The straw?”

He swept his arm grandly behind him. “Look at it! Thin, damp, and utterly reeking of piss. My dear boy, these aren’t fit conditions for a dog, much less a man.” He could barely make out the shape of the chest that held his belongings in the deepened shadows, but he thought he saw the lid lift an inch or two, pause, then lift a few inches more. “Oh! How curious…hm.”

The guard took a few hesitant steps nearer, hand on his cudgel. “What? What is it? What are you looking at?”

“Your eyes. They nearly glow in the lamplight.” He let his voice drop into his chest, low and rumbling, and turned his head so that the curl of his close-mouthed smile caught the torches. “They’re…beautiful. That’s all. Captivating, really.”

“What does he want?” called one of the guards playing checkers.

“Nothing, nothing!” Even in the dimness Astarion could see the man was blushing furiously. Gods, how easy it was to slip back into all of this, like reaching for some ancient tattered overcoat at the start of winter. Not warm, not beloved, not even attractive—just the only functional defense one had against freezing to death. “Captivating,” the man repeated, a little amazed, and then he gave a self-conscious laugh. “Oh. Because you’re—because you’re captive.”

Disgusting. A wit. Astarion snaked a hand between the bars and ran a finger up the man’s armored stomach. “And charming, too. What a pity.”

In his periphery, the lid of the wooden chest dropped silently shut. The shadow darted back behind the pillar while the man was staring cross-eyed at Astarion’s finger; a moment later Tav straightened up directly behind the guard, peering at Astarion over the man’s shoulder. Her eyebrows were raised in question.

The fight to keep his face still was monumental. Little idiot!

The man gave a startled, awkward laugh into the quiet and began to back away. Astarion hooked a finger in his collar like lightning and dragged him an inch or two nearer the bars. “You know, darling, this cell’s rather big for one person. A man might find himself lonely if he’s left here long enough. You know…” He licked his lips. “Frustrated.”

Tav rolled her eyes over the guard’s shoulder, but she noiselessly dipped away into the dark again as the guard stammered and babbled. After a few seconds Astarion saw the door on the far side of the room crack open, revealing a glimpse of stairs beyond, then close. He waited a few minutes more, idly toying with the guard’s belt as he murmured something nonsensical about candlelight, and then the door opened and closed again without a sound. Perfect.

“But you’re—you’re so beautiful,” the man was saying, and the very small portion of Astarion that was still listening gave a polished, tittering laugh. “I reckon I probably shouldn’t have—you know. Told you to shut up.”

“You’ll think of a way to make it up to me,” Astarion purred, and the entire prison rattled with a brief but deafening explosion.

Dust and grit cascaded down around them. Astarion’s guard didn’t yelp, but the other two did, and all of them waited in breathless silence for the braziers to stop trembling. The explosion had come from directly above the prison’s main room, and Astarion could hear shouts and calls of worry over many pounding feet.

“We’d better—” one of the guards at the checkerboard said, and she and her partner rose and hurried through the far door to the stairs—after unlocking it first, which Astarion found immensely satisfying. The guard at Astarion’s cell hesitated, glancing back and forth between Astarion and the door where they’d disappeared; eventually the fear won, and he trotted with one hand on his cudgel to the base of the stairs and peered up after his comrades.

As effortless and choreographed as a dance. The moment the guard’s back was turned Astarion had the lock undone, even with Tav’s wretched half-diamond and bent tension wrench. In a trice he was out of the cell altogether, the dagger Tav had slipped him via the guard’s belt firm in his grip.

She’d understood his need for a blade, even with picks in hand. She knew better than most the difference between being loose and being free.

Another brazier winked out with a puff of smoke. Astarion spared a precious few seconds to relock the cell door behind him—if she could do it, so could he, and it would be hilarious besides—and as he finished he felt Tav’s hand alight on the small of his back. He raised his arms for her to rebuckle his belt around his waist; in the same motion he returned her picks to their leather case and hooked the case itself to her hip. The belt’s leather tongue hissed as she drew it taut, and the returned weight of his sheathed knife was a comfort in itself.

The dagger he kept bare in his hand. For an instant his eyes fell on the guard still standing at the bottom of the stairs. The throw would be effortless, even in the dark. Simple. Clean. The smart thing to do, really.

But Tav wouldn’t like it. He knew she wouldn’t, as sure as he knew their next steps in this silent waltz, and with a grimace he turned away from the guard. She lifted her eyebrows again; he gestured impatiently, and she gave a slow, sweet smile before hooking a hand around his neck and pulling him down into a kiss.

Ah. An improvisation, and one Astarion enjoyed very much, even here. He sighed through his nose, the weight of the last few hours rolling away like the coins from a spilled purse, and he slid an arm around her waist. His own pack obstructed his way briefly, the straps far too long for her shorter frame, but she arched into his chest anyway with her habitual eagerness, and that was more than enough.

Gods. How easy it became to endure every trial the city might conjure up when he knew Tav would be waiting for him at the end of it.

“I have a confession, darling,” he breathed against her mouth. A second, much smaller explosion went off upstairs to a chorus of startled cries.

Tav’s eyes were bright with humor. “Hm?”

“As it happens, I’d rather not do this without you.”

“Mm,” she said, satisfaction thrumming through the sound, and she kissed him again.

Ah, but they were pushing their luck already. Despite every part of him yearning to cling to Tav until the prison came down around them, he released her when she pulled away, and when she led him by the hand back through the privy door he followed without complaint. She locked the door behind them; he broke the bolt in place. He’d very much miss seeing the guard’s look of stupid shock, but—

“Here,” Tav whispered in his ear. She slid aside a stone about the length of a finger, just wide enough for Astarion to peer through if he crouched a bit. “Found this about eight months ago.”

“The gifts you give me, my dear,” he breathed, and he felt her vibrate with laughter against him. It took a little jostling, but they managed to find a position where they both could see, and they watched together as the guard at last came back around the pillar, glanced over, and paused with comic confusion at the sight of the empty cell.

“Uh,” the man said aloud. He crossed to the cell door, jostled it, and then unlocked it with a key from his pocket. He stepped into the cell itself with a series of useless looks to the walls, the scattered straw, and inexplicably the ceiling, as if he expected to find Astarion clinging upside-down to the stone, then came out and stared helplessly at the empty room. “Uh,” he said again, much higher, and then with obvious panic he quick-marched himself up the far stairs and out of sight.

Still laughing, Tav led Astarion back along the privy hall, past the privy itself, and then through a small broken grating about halfway up the wall. It was a tight squeeze for Astarion, though he made do by pinching Tav’s ankles every time she paused, and soon enough they stood on a small stone ledge overlooking a reasonably finished portion of the sewers. Another much larger grate to their right let in a considerable amount of afternoon sunlight, and Astarion stretched catlike in its warmth.

“An acceptable rescue, I take it,” Tav said, watching him. That damnable smile still played over her mouth; Astarion wanted very badly to kiss it.

“A little lengthy, I thought,” he said instead, and settled for resting his fingers alongside her throat. “And it all involved me spending rather too much time with a very dull idiot. Though I suppose I can’t really complain, seeing as I am, in fact, free once more. Here, darling, for you. Never let it be said you found me ungrateful.”

“What’s this?”

“Only a small trifle,” he said, and watched with tremendous satisfaction as she opened the clinking bag.

“Astarion!” Her eyes lit with genuine delight, and she ran her fingers through the gold like water. “You lifted this for me? Really?”

“Every coin he had,” he said, and when she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek the satisfaction in his chest brimmed over into an ocean. “Besides, my dear, I suspect you’ll need it. How much alchemist’s fire did you use, anyway? I thought the walls might come down around my ears.”

“Every vial we had,” she admitted, and she gave him a proper, if woefully brief, kiss on the mouth. “I thought the first match hadn’t taken, so I threw three more. Thank Gond the mortar held. Here, take back your pack. It’s heavy.”

“And you’ve all the strength of a damp tissue,” Astarion said, but he lifted the pack from her shoulders. A glimpse of something beneath the half-latched flap made him pause. “What have you done?”

“I thought you might want it back,” Tav said, the picture of perfect innocence. “Seeing as it started this whole mess in the first place.”

“You ghastly thing,” Astarion said, fangs bared, and with a great deal of prejudice he slung the blasted sunmelon as deep into the sewers as he could. It bounced twice, then disappeared into a small algae-choked pond with a sploosh. “How fortunate you have other charms.”

“Yes,” Tav agreed, linking her fingers through his, and they climbed together from the sewers into the clean, sweet air of the sunlit afternoon.

—

end.

—

For the record, Astarion's melon incident is adapted from this series of in-game events.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Three

Literally saw the orange sweater and my heart sank. Here we go.

George's hair!! I hate him.

Also literally WHY does he have to lend them his own personal recording equipment? It really is ridiculous how bad the record company treated them considering they were the fucking BEATLES.

Magic Alex! Honestly though why is half of me like "Yes! Scamming king! Take their money and RUN!"

"My Imagination" is physical cringe level.

"The rhythms in the guitars anyway." It's a callback to their earliest days when they had to say that to hustle, but I think part of them really did believe that back then, and part of Paul still does. That the four of them are all they need.

And then in response to that callback to early days to convey current not-articulable feelings, John responds with one of his own. His mini rant about how stupid it is to use three mikes and never come together and sing as a GROUP. It's like he can't bear the thought.

Paul singing his guitar and drum ideas. Apparently my sexuality is women and unhinged men. There's nothing to be done about it. Poor George literally can't get a word between all Paul's "Downownownowneernernerner" and "chuchuchutah ba Ta. Ba." And if I was a good person I'd be annoyed. But no. It's too hot.

"Corny's alright on this one though because what he's doing's corny." Be fucking nice to him. He needs you to be like you were on 909 about every single thing he does because he cares so much what you think. Of course they don't talk about that kind of thing so Paul has no idea. But look at his face!

I also like "the same old shit," George. "Don't Let Me Down" is so fucking sexy idgaf what anyone says.

But here's the other thing is that John is SO down for all of these wrong suggestions Paul's making. If they're not literally saying the same thing at the same time, it's instantly "Yes. Exactly. Yeah."

So John says "alright girls" and sounds like he's just so above Paul and George squabbling and bickering and couldn't care less except for the fact that they're annoying him. Because that's his macho front, right? But then look at his face while they're fighting, eyes darting and full of love, sorrow, and what honestly looks like fear.

Ringo stays the hell out of all of it. Good for him.

Shortly after Paul says "I can't frickin do it on camera either" John starts strumming. And soon George joins, while Paul's pacing and gesturing. And at first I was confused like "they're not being very good listeners that's not very nice" but they're trying to cover up the dialogue for Paul's sake. Trying to take away the cameras if he can't do it with them. "Forget about candy camera." It's very loving, very protective, especially from George. John, we expect this kind of thing from, when it comes to Paul. But George is literally in a fight with him and protecting him at the same time and I find it to be so beautiful.

Gosh, there's so much in this little rant though. "I always feel as though I'm tryna put you down and stop you playing *voice cracks and goes higher* but I'm not." How he looks at John when he says "and I never get any support or anything" and the "and you know it's right." I usually find the 'Paul's the mom, John's the dad' analogy reductive, but boy is it perfect here.

But really, Paul, you've got to just let George do his thing. "I can only do me, you know." George is absolutely right in this argument. He's actually very emotionally mature for being the youngest.

Ugh it's hard to leave them on this note. But I'll pick back up tomorrow

[mvltiwritez1]

Breathe - Angela Giarratana x Fem!Reader

Requested by: @loverluzer - ‘A love confession with Angela but reader has really bad anxiety so it's kind more like a bunch of word vomit’

WARNING(S): little mentions of throwing up (in a jokey way), really mild swearing

I’m still taking requests! Just Dm me if you want one fulfilled! - August

————————————————————————

"You should tell her Y/n" Arasha said to her friend, taking a bite of her lunch after. Y/n sighed and pulled her gaze away from Angela talking to Amanda reluctantly.

"What if she doesn't like me back? It would be so embarrassing, especially since we're co-workers" Y/n explained, picking at her own lunch, losing her appetite due to nerves.

"If she doesn't then it's in the past, no hard feelings and certainly no awkward situations. You know Angela, she's very outgoing and understanding." Arasha replied, keeping her tone hushed when she mentioned the Italian's name.

"I know she is but what if she feels like she has to say yes? Or what if we can't act like we're just fine? I know we're actors for a living but sometimes it's hard!" Y/n whined slightly, making sure her voice wasn't as loud as well.

"I understand that sometimes it is but you're going insane dude. You're pulling your hair out over a crush, I'm saying this out of love and care but your mental health could really benefit from you just saying it flat out." Arasha gestured with her hands as she talked as she normally did.

Y/n stayed silent, she knew Arasha was right. Why did she have to be so?! Y/n rubbed at her forehead, pondering a way to tell her.

"It's not like I could just pull her aside for a few and be like 'hey I wanna kiss you'" Y/n said, oversimplifying her feelings. Arasha chuckled.

"Okay maybe you shouldn't lead with that but I'm just saying, maybe tell her off of company time like the weekend since it's Friday? Ask if you can come over or just tell her over text, it's really just about getting it out there" Arasha tried giving her best advice and Y/n nodded, appreciative of whatever guidance that could be provided.

"Now, are we finally done talking about your crush for a while? I don't want my lunch to come back up" Arasha joked lightheartedly and Y/n cracked a smile.

——

Y/n walked onto the games set for a Try Not To Win Mario Party video and sat beside Shayne on the couch, the man doing something on his phone before they started shooting. They acknowledged each other with a small greeting as they got mentally prepared to shoot.

Angela walked in after Y/n and sat right beside her.

"Hey Y/n! This shoot is gonna be so fun" Angela beamed at Y/n, a light rose covering her cheeks. Y/n chuckled along in response before talking back.

"Yeah I agree. I can't wait to beat your ass...by losing" Y/n put up a confident front but in reality, her heart felt like it would burst through her rib cage and onto the clean carpet below them.

"You wish" Angela spoke, her voice getting slightly deeper. No one barely paying attention could notice it but Y/n did and it made her all the more nervous that her hands started sweating. The rest of the cast for the video came in along with the crew at the right time, cutting their conversation short.

——

Y/n finally was able to sit on her own couch in her own apartment. She sighed and let her body relax for a second before having to get up and make something for a meal.

She got up after sitting in the quiet of her apartment for about 5 minutes and made a simple sandwich, her energy was down so she didn't want to stand at the stove for a while.

Her mind wouldn’t shut up about Angela, any conversation they had or any type of physical contact between them replayed in her head like an old movie. It was beginning to be unbearable.

Y/n tried blasting music through her headphones but that just caused the thoughts and daydreams to get worse and for her to get a headache. She even tried sleeping early but couldn’t as her mind kept thinking back to Arasha’s advice.

‘Just tell her’

Y/n couldn’t take it anymore so her body carried her to her running shoes and windbreaker and put them on quickly.

Before Y/n could talk herself out of it, she started running. Down the hallway and stairs of her apartment complex until she reached the outdoors.

It had been raining so the air smelled of Petrichor and clung to her skin as she continued running. Her direction seemingly random.

She heaved and puffed as her legs kept her steady, not stopping for a second.

Finally she found the very place she wanted to go, Angela’s front door. Since they were friends, they both knew each other’s address and had been to each other’s places.

Y/n knocked on the door and ran a hand through her - now wet - locks as she panted. The door opened to reveal Angela, dressed in a loose t-shirt, sweatpants, socks, and her glasses with her hair tied up.

“Y/n?” Angela asked before looking around for a vehicle of some sort. Y/n felt like she had to say it or else she would puke.

“Listen Ange, I really really like you and I have for months but I’ve been too afraid to tell you because we’re co-workers and I don’t wanna make things awkward at all but I’m done hiding my feelings from you because I’m afraid that if I do I’ll explode and if you’re uncomfortable I’ll drop it but I can’t handle hiding it anymore I like you a lot and—“ Y/n’s tired ramblings we’re cut off by Angela’s hands on either side of her face and her soft lips on Y/n’s.

Y/n’s eyes grew wide but soon closed and her hands moved to Angela’s waist when she realized what was happening. Angela gently pulled away and looked into Y/n’s eyes.

“I was afraid you were gonna turn blue…or yark” Angela said softly. Y/n exhaled, really processing what just happened.

“You…like me too?” Y/n asked, her voice laced with insecurity. Angela chuckled and looked at Y/n astounded.

“Of course, I thought I was being so obvious!” Angela exclaimed and Y/n blushed slightly while smiling, the information finally catching up to her.

“Thank goodness. I thought I fucked everything up” Y/n said and they both chuckled.

“Now come inside, you’ll get sick if you spend another minute out there” Angela pulled Y/n into the apartment and planned to take care of Y/n first and ask a million questions later.

[grievedeeply]

the less time, the better. pt 2.

PREVIOUS | NEXT

pairing: heimdall × gn!reader

summary: ever since you had beaten him, the aesir god of foresight seems to be acting strange. you almost want to get to the bottom of it.

notes: this is a part two of this work, so i recommend reading that before this one! hope you all enjoy and thanks so much for all of the support on this so far!! contains a slightly out of character heimdall, only because he's still in shock on how reader beat him :") let me know if you want a part three!

you'd been staying in modi's old room. you remembered the day he died as clear as day in your mind. atreus— having just found out about his godhood— killing him, though he had already surrendered. he was weak. not worth killing, you heard your father's voice clearly in your mind as your gaze met the shield he once brandished sitting in the corner of his.. your, room.

you thought of your brother and father in moments like these, as you walked down the steps into odin's library. it was buried deep underneath his study, covered from wall to wall in books. atreus would love get his hands on all of them, and you resisted the urge to swipe a few. you needed him to trust you. stealing something, even something as meager as a book, wouldn't be a good look.

in the distance, you saw the familiar green glow of the crack. that's what you'd been calling it. you had no idea what it was, but odin insists he hears something reaching out to him from the other side of it. he believes the mask, the one attached to your hip as you continued into the library, contained a way for him to harness whatever it could be.

he was in a desperate search for answers. you knew it would be easy to manipulate someone in a state like that, but you also knew that this was odin you were dealing with, and it would never be that simple.

your feet hit the rock underneath you, and you made your way over to his desk. odin stood behind it, head turning up and eyes brightening as he saw you approach. "ah," he greeted you, maneuvering himself in front of you with open arms, "come, come." he set his hand on your shoulder, and you reminded yourself not to shrug it off as you did at the cabin on midgard.

that day felt so long ago. you pictured thor, how he dragged your father through the roof and into the sky with ease. you had to work with him previously, when you searched for the other mask piece. he didn't trust you, and he hurled insults at you often, but other than that, he wasn't the worst company, surprisingly. thor felt lonely. you knew his relationship with his family was.. rocky, even at it's best. you couldn't help but to feel a bit responsible for that, given the deaths of his sons.

you remembered magni and modi. you thought of them every day. though you hadn't been the one to strike the killing blow on either of them, all you did was stand by and watch. magni's death happened because of self defense.. but modi's? you pursed your lips. his was needless. unnecessary.

"how did you sleep?" odin's voice brought you out of your thoughts, and you tried not to shrug your shoulders. the truth was, you had missed your family. you missed your father, your brother— especially. you wondered what he was doing, now. did they miss you, too? "good," you said with a small smile. it was a lie, of course. sleeping in asgard was never something you'd get used to.

"good, good. i'm glad to hear it," he lifted his hand from your shoulder, his gaze turning towards the mask you held in your hands. "have you deciphered it?" he asked, leaning in as though he were interested in your words. you knew he didn't care about you. he only cared about where you could get him. you nodded. "sounds like.. helheim, maybe? or niflheim. can't exactly figure out if this says 'cry of cold breath' or 'cry of first breath.'" you told him, staring down at the mask that rested in your hands. it was almost embarrassing, how much time you'd spent on figuring out what it said. atreus would be much better for this than you, but you would hate him being here.

"then we try both." odin only shrugged his shoulders, "we have plenty of time. you'll figure it out when you're there, won't you?" a thin lipped smile appeared on his face, holding his hands together in front of him. "to helheim, yes?" you hummed a yes in response, letting out a sigh. you hated helheim.

"oh, and.. heimdall will be joining you." his voice cut through the silence of the room like it were butter, and you closed your eyes. "what a privilege." heimdall's voice rang out from behind you, and you felt his hands on your shoulders. you didn't shrug them off, knowing that if you did it would look poorly for you. they sat there for longer than you'd anticipated, and by the time they left odin's ravens were surrounding the two of you, sending you off to helheim.

odin crossed his arms over his chest, "oh, and you don't want to walk into the blistering cold of helheim without this. efri-lá. should keep you nice and toasty. you're welcome." with a flick of his wrist, he was gone, and all you could see were feathers. you felt heimdall's presence next to you, but you decided to pay him no mind. it would only feed into his already ginormous ego.

the birds disappeared, and you found yourself in helheim. the cold didn't bother you, and you were grateful for it. you remembered the last time you were in helheim with your father. it was horrible. not even because of the hel-walkers, but because of the freezing temperatures. you remembered mimir telling you that even odin couldn't survive the could. well.. he couldn't be right about everything.

"come on, already. stop standing around, will you?" heimdall's annoyed voice echoed around you. he stood in front of you, eyebrows narrowed. he was taller than you, but it was to expected from a god like he was. "right," you pursed your lips, pulling the mask off of your belt. you held it up in front of you, smiling when it finally lit up in a familiar green to let you know the correct direction.

you could only hope this was the right place. you didn't want to imagine heimdall's reaction to having his time wasted, and you didn't want to spend another minute with him even if you had to. the less time you spent around him, the better, you reminded yourself. he was insufferable, cocky, arrogant— everything your mother raised you not to be. you cleared your throat, "this way." you nodded your head in the direction the mask led you to.

it was awkward. you wouldn't deny that. the air was filled with more silence than there was with thor in muspelheim, and that was uncomfortable enough. you wondered why he was suddenly so quiet. he was talkative the last time you had seen him. then.. you remembered.

seeing him falling to the ground, the front of his shirt torn open by your sword. you could only assume that was the first time anyone has touched him in battle before. you couldn't help but to chuckle at the thought. was he so dependent on his abilities that he didn't know what to do without them?

"what are you laughing at?" he asked you, glancing over his shoulder to look at you coldly. "just thinking." you said in response, eyebrows raised. you could see him roll his eyes, and you did the same. he was entitled. a brat. you were glad you put him in his place then, and you would happily do the same now if it came to it. "do less of it," he continued, "focus on the mask." his voice came out softer than normal, and you could almost hear his shaky breath as he looked at the path in front of him.

you only nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. was he really that embarrassed by you beating him? he shouldn't be. he was still a formidable opponent, you were sure of that. he was just overconfident. unable to even fathom the possibility that someone could be immune to his foresight. he would have to accept it if he were to move forward. you said nothing else to him, pulling the mask out in front of you again.

"this way," you spoke up after a few minutes, climbing up onto a higher portion of the ground in the direction the mask was leading you to. heimdall still remained silent. it was unlike him, and you hardly even knew him.

you paused, turning around to face him. "alright, what's wrong with you?" you questioned, arms crossed over your chest as you looked into his eyes. he stopped in front of you with furrowed brows, shaking his head. "move." he said to you, jaw clenched. "nope. not until you tell me what's going on." you replied, shaking your head. your eyes didn't leave his, though his gaze wavered. he did look.. embarrassed.

"i said.. move." heimdall stated, hands moving to your shoulders to push you out of his way. he moved in front of you, continuing forwards. he didn't know where the mask was. he couldn't find it without you leading him towards it. "oh my gods, stop. stop being so.. so.. petty." you told him, taking a few quick steps to catch up to him. "it's fine that i beat you. grow up. get over it. stop sulking." you continued, blocking his path again. you didn't look away from him, though he continued to avoid your eyes.

"petty? really?" heimdall replied. "yeah. petty." you retorted, "i'm right. we have bigger things to focus on. besides, we're allies, right?" you asked him, an eyebrow raised. "unless me being a giant is too much for you." you added after a brief pause, and his head turned to look at you. "allies," he let out a dry, breathless laugh, "right." he muttered sarcastically.

you rolled your eyes, "you're mad that you got bested by a giant, aren't you?" you questioned, a proud smile forming on your lips. you'd be lying if beating heimdall wasn't something you weren't happy about, even if it meant nothing in the long run. you'd heard plenty of stories about the people who tried to lay a hand on him from mimir, and knowing that you were the first— and that you were a giant? it felt good. really good.

"the mask." he changed the subject, and all you could do was laugh. you turned your attention back to it, glancing around at your surroundings for the correct way to go.

heimdall only watched you as you did so. he knew this was out of character for him, but how else was he supposed to react to you? the last time he had seen you, you had beaten him with ease. he wasn't used to that. no one else ever had. he looked at you and it made his chest tighten. what was that feeling? he couldn't tell. it couldn't be anything more than embarrassment, right?

he thought of your father. he had yet to see the man himself, but he knew he was a danger. by association, you were too. though.. a part of him felt like you weren't. not to him, anyway. he knew better, though. he wouldn't let that thought process continue. he couldn't.

why were you so.. so frustrating? you would do anything to manipulate your way into getting exactly what you wanted— he knew that. he couldn't be wrong. he wouldn't be. how were you able to bother him so easily?

why was his heart beating so fast?

"we're close." your voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he nearly sighed in relief. the less time he spent around you, the better. "finally." he replied, his tone finally moving into something that sounded like normal.

he might've been faking it. you didn't care. as long as he focused on getting the mask back.. the less time you spent around him, the better.

you turned the corner, only to be met with what looked like a huge wolf. atreus would love this. "it isn't here." heimdall told you, and you glanced over at him. "why's that?" you asked, returning your eyes to the animal.

"because.." he let out an annoyed breath," that's garm. idiot." he murmured under his breath, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. you clenched your jaw, turning on your heel to look at him. "how was i supposed to know that?" you asked, tone filled with exasperation. "everyone knows that, sweetheart." he chuckled, "come now. don't want to wake the thing, do we?"

sweetheart? who did he think he was? you closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath. you wanted to punch him, but you knew if you did it would only make you look poorly in front of odin. plus, he would never let it go.

"what's wrong with you?" you inquired, retracing your steps. you wanted to at least check if the mask piece was with the wolf, but arguing with him would get you nowhere, and make your trip more awkward than it needed to be.

"me?" he chuckled, shaking his head as he walked, a smirk on his features. "seriously?" he licked his lips, turning to face you, walking backwards. "you're the one who showed up here. with immunity to my abilities. what's wrong with you?" he replied, eyebrows furrowed, but the rest of his features formed a pout.

"oh, i don't know. maybe i'm just special." you shrugged your shoulders. "you have to get used to it. not my fault your stuff doesn't work on me." you said in response, your eyes meeting his.

why were they.. beautiful? you shook the thought out of your mind. thinking of him in that way.. it didn't make sense to you. all he had done was be a nuisance. a cocky, annoying one. his personality made his attractive looks diminish in your eyes. you looked at his features. he was quite pretty. it would be nicer if he was actually good company.

"you're strange. that's what you are." heimdall said. he was being honest. he did think of you as strange, but there was something more to you. something he wanted to unpack for himself.

the less time he spent around you, the better, he reminded himself. as curious as he was about you, he couldn't let it get in the way of his real responsibilities. protecting asgard was what mattered. you were a giant. nothing more.

"you can just admit you're embarrassed."

"i'm not embarrassed."

"sure you are. i saw how you walked off after i knocked you off your high horse." you told him nonchalantly. "my high horse? oh, please. you came into asgard as if you knew better than everyone else."

"as if you don't do that already. at least i don't think of myself the way you do. at least i'm not horribly annoying, ridiculous cocky.. but somehow self conscious." you put on a fake pout.

"i am far from self conscious." heimdall told you. "right." you replied, "keep thinking that way. that'll really get you places."

he rolled his eyes, and odin's ravens enveloped you once again.

your return to asgard had gone relatively smoothly. odin wasn't too disappointed with the fact that you had returned without the mask piece, but he was pleased with how the two of you had handled the situation with quick thinking. he referred to garm, of course. a part of you felt bad for it. sitting there in the cold. it was no life, but there was nothing you could do about it.

modi's room remained the same. it was uncomfortable sleeping there, but you didn't have much of a choice. you frequently ran into thrúd, thor's daughter. at first, she had threatened you— but she had dropped her blade and shook your hand, introducing herself as if nothing had happened. she looked to be about atreus' age, if not a little older. you thought of them being friends, but it seemed impossible given the circumstances.

as for heimdall, you had seen him in passing a few times, but you made no effort to talk to him. you didn't see a point. the less you talked to him, the better. though, you loved seeing his ego crumble whenever you were around him.

you pushed open the door to your room, adjusting your sword hilt as you walked up the stairs and into the mess hall. you would never get used to being surrounded by einherjar. you had fought them a countless number of times at this point. it was strange without them attacking you on sight. you pushed your way through them and out into the courtyard, making quick strides to the training grounds.

odin made it clear to you that all of asgard was welcome to you. all of it's resources, too. you'd take advantage of that. the einherjar would be there, but you knew of a spot that none of them seemed to use. you could only help but to wonder why that was.

you sat down your bag, a sigh escaping from your lips as you unsheathed your sword. there were plenty of things to hit, plenty of einherjar around the grounds to train with, but you decided to stay on your own. you needed to think. think about your family, your friends back at sindri's place, what the mask meant.. and why heimdall was acting so strange.

you swung your sword in front of you, twirling your weapon in your hand as you finished the move. what was his deal? you knew that you were part jötnar, and that the aesir hated the giants— whatever. everyone knew that. whatever his problem was.. it was more than that. every time he looked at you.. you couldn't tell, but something was off.

"well, well." a voice came from behind you. speak of the devil.. and he shall appear. you turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. "what now?" you asked without a moment's hesitation. "you have a problem with this, too?" you tilted your head, a gentle look in your eyes as you stared at him.

if you didn't know any better, you could've swore you saw his pale cheeks brighten up at your look.

heimdall cleared his throat, "you're in my area." you rolled your eyes. he always would find something to complain about. "you weren't here, so. looks like it's mine, now." you shrugged your shoulders, a nonchalant smirk on your lips as you gripped your sword.

his eyes flickered between your gaze and the weapon in your hand, and his jaw clenched. "hey, there's plenty of room. don't start being petty again." you chuckled, nodding your head to the space next to you. it mirrored the equipment that surrounded you. it shouldn't be a big deal to him. "fine." he spat, taking out his own sword. you wondered how long it had been since he actually had to use it.

you both fell silent, and you resumed training with your sword. unlike him, you actually needed to be good at wielding a weapon. you looked over at him. his eyebrows were furrowed, his hands tightened around the hilt of the sword he brandished.

"how did you do it?" heimdall asked you, his voice coming out gentler and more genuine than it ever had before. "do what?" you inquired back, deciding to play dumb to see if he would admit to you beating him.

"touch me." he replied, a defeated tone to his voice. you almost pitied him. you let out a sigh, "i don't know. just did." you told him after a brief pause, turning to face him. this was what has been bothering him so badly. you knew that much, but it was nice to hear him admit it.

you bit at the inside of your cheek, "come on, then. cheer up." you said, gesturing to him with your sword. "we'll train. it's what we're here for, right?"

he furrowed his eyebrows. what were you doing? were you trying to be friendly with him? he nodded. "fine." heimdall muttered under his breath, and you managed a smile. you turned, pulling out a few wooden swords from a barrel that sat behind you. you faced him, a playful look in your eyes.

he moved in front of you, and you took in a breath. this was almost exactly like the first time you had fought, but this.. this was different, somehow.

you dug your heel into the ground beneath you, not taking your eyes off of your opponent. he made the first swing, and you moved to your left to escape it. you took a quick step forwards, trying to catch him off guard with a quick jab— only for him to maneuver out of your way. "see?" you chuckled, "focus." you told him.

"shut up." he replied, a frustrated groan escaping his lips as he swung at you again. you ducked underneath his sword, swiping his legs out from underneath him with your own. he extended his free hand and brought you down on top of him, your sword flying out of your hand and across the dirt.

your hands rested on either side of his head, and— out of breath— you laughed. "guess we both need work, then." you admitted, your face flushed from the activity.

heimdall only stared at you, his mouth falling open as he looked up at you.

you.. you were unlike anyone else. you were gorgeous. he could admit that to himself. you were a giant, he found himself thinking over and over again. what was wrong with him? picturing you in that way.. it was something he wanted to go away. why wouldn't it? why were you so.. insufferable? his arms laid at his sides, and he could almost feel you sitting on top of his waist. he swallowed. what was he thinking?

"get off of me." he tried to collect himself, his hands moving to your shoulders to push you off. "calm down." you continued laughing, rolling your eyes at how seriously he seemed to take this.

without sparing another glance at you, heimdall turned on his heel, brushed off his clothes and walked away from you.

wherever he was going didn't matter to you. you shrugged your shoulders, picking up the sword you'd lost when you fell on him. you watched his back as he left.

this was familiar.

you laughed.

and he heard it.

he hated it. right?

tags: @graciegizmo3184 @anzanishira @chocokaylarobin @uncoveredsun @caelestis-lyrae @prio-motu @bluehorizon987 @freyrees @ieatmarbles @rohansregret @konigd1cks0ck @smilesdarling | join my taglist!!

if your name is crossed out in the taglist, it means it didn't work for some reason :( i tried but i couldn't get it to work unfortunately

[trtyutr]

Attention of the Court V

Ryan lies on his couch, clad on in his boxers. His hands lie on his five week baby bump. One lies on top of the baby filled mound while the other paces the side of the bump that looks more as if it six months along if it were normal. It was the last week he was staying in his apartment before he moves to a small condominium. Then the packages arrive.

It takes him a bit to get up to the door. He opens the door a crack before taking a peak outside to see if there's anyone who would see his nearly naked form. When he saw that the coast was clear, he looked down to see two boxes, one small and red, the other large and blue. He moves as quickly as he can with his over one hundred kids weighing him down. He manages to push them inside just in time for him to hear some another door down the hallway open up. He's safe. He grabs blue box. Its cardboard is that same dark shade of blue as the envelopes. He rips off that the blue tape to find a piece of paper on top of a bunch of neatly folded up clothes. The paper says that he was given ownership of a managed account with $112,500 in its portfolio. "It's increasing by 50% each time. I think I can get used to it. "The clothes are also pretty nice." He said as he picked through them. There was a variety in the selection, t-shirts, fishnet tank tops, to white button down dress shirts. These actually came at a great time, because he down to three boxers, two sweat pants, and a hoodie that barely covers half his belly. He tries on a t-shirt. It's a bit tight, but it fits. It even covers his baby bump. It doesn't leave a lot to the imagination, though. He turns to the red box. It flips open easily to reveal an amulet on a silver chain along with a note. "You only have to wear it for five minutes for our deals. I don't think it's my style, but I want the money." He sets an alarm for ten minutes, just to be safe. He puts it on. The metal is cool, and for some reason wearing it makes him feel off, like his thoughts can't form. It wears off after five minutes, and when the alarm goes off, he puts the amulet off and forgets it. Three days later, he's at the gay bar. He's sitting at a table alone. He's wearing a tank top, a jock, and jeans. He sips his water, when he hears "Can I buy you a drink?" He turns around to see a shorter man with bit chin scruff and a brown leather jacket. "I'm fine with water, but I would like your company." Ryan says patting the seat beside him. "I'm sorry if this is forward, but are you" "Pregnant? Yes. I'm about five weeks along." The strangers face knits together as a few gears start to turn, but soon he smiles again as the glamour pushes away all those bothersome questions. "I was going to ask single, but pregnant is good is good to know too. It's hot." He scoots his chair closer. The man puts his hand on Ryan's leg. "You're hot." Ryan's at the stranger's place. He's peeled off the tank top and lying on the bed. He's being showed a series of strap one. "Which one does Daddy like?" Ryan points to a ivory white eight incher. "This one, and don't worry, I'm loose enough." He says taking off his jeans. "No wonder a slut like you is pregnant. That's even hotter." A condom, some generous lube, and a transman rutting into him, Ryan's cumming into his jock hand's free. "Dear Peers, my game is covered, and our fertile Ryan is growing like a garden, but only with his womb, so I'm going to send him a fruit basket with everything that a growing father needs. Every vote of yours will add your voted fruit to the basket. I have some wonderful Milky Coconuts, great for building pectorals. I have Juicy Peaches, great for the glutes. Heavy Avocados that hang low and heavy on the tree, perfect for making man virile. Long Bananas, which will help his manhood. Maybe Fatty Olives to add some fat on his form. Or maybe Protein Packed Berries to help build his muscle. " (Instead of winner takes all, each vote in this poll will make Ryan grow in whatever you vote for.)

[techmomma]

Various things I have learned while working at this mitigation company:

different insurance providers are more or less willing to cover more things. some companies are real lenient and will give you a lot of leeway. some will absolutely not and will find every means possible to not pay. we tend to keep an unofficial list (at least among employees) of which ones we love to work with (aka which ones will approve and pay for the most and be easiest to deal with) and which ones we hate working with (they will usually reject the claim meaning NO mitigation work is done at all because you think most regular people can afford $20K mitigation out of pocket?). you can ask us which ones we like working with.

if the overhead sprinkler system is activated, then even if nothing burned, you will still need so much mitigation. modern sprinkler systems aren't just full of water, they have various fire-fighting chemicals in them that should not come into contact with people for extended periods. and definitely not food.

not every business is willing to pay for fire sprinkler mitigation. sometimes they just decide to paint over it! one of the local grocery stores decided to do that! remember what I said about exposing those chemicals to food?

mold can start growing from a water leak within like 48 hours. faster if it's a sewage leak. if you had a leak and you waited a week to call anyone, you need a mold inspection too.

we get screwed over by churches so, so much.

all houses must be tested for asbestos before any mitigation can begin. it used to be that we only really needed to test on houses built before about 1990, but as asbestos was used in building materials LONG after that, they've finally cracked down and now all houses needed to be tested. my coworkers aren't as happy about this as I am.

if the building was built before 1978 though then we have to test for asbestos AND lead! I think we should test them all for lead frankly but the law says 1978.

asbestos and lead usually have to be removed by special companies. we use subcontractors for that since we don't have the equipment ourselves.

subcontractors! your mitigation company usually can't do everything themselves, so they'll enlist the aid of another company. so for example, when we have to test for asbestos and lead, we use a subcontractor who has the equipment to analyze samples.

generally, if you can see damage, whatever is inside the wall is so, so much worse.

there is so so much mold in like every building

even with industrial cleaners and professional equipment, mold is so hard to actually get rid of permanently. if it's gotten into an organic material like wood or cloth, you can count that as pretty much permanently affected. they will almost always be unsalvageable.

this counts for say, the wood beams of your house. we can clean them down and spray mold killer and seal them, but it'll ever be a 100% guarantee, ESPECIALLY IF YOU LIVE IN A WETTER CLIMATE. LIKE, IDK, WASHINGTON.

houses on the water are so full of mold

if you have a sudden Emergency, please make sure you decide if you're going to use a mitigation before you actually call us. especially for emergencies where there's water like actively flooding your house. please, for the love of god, don't call us and say "we have an emergency and need help cleaning this up" and then call a short while later saying "well, actually, can we be put on hold, we're not sure if we'll go with mitigation yet...". our technicians are almost always working on a job, we don't have anyone just sitting around the office we can send at any time. and sometimes those jobs can be like an hour away from our office

that means the tech has to pack up their equipment on the site (meaning making sure the site is secured especially if it's going to rain), get back to the office (remember the hour drive from before), get the right equipment for your emergency, and head out there. if they've been pulled from their previous job site they had to drive an hour for, we're not going to fucking send them back.

meaning if you cancel, that's like half of our day wasted and now that other job is going to be behind, too, because they're minus an extra five hours that could have been spent doing the work for that job

please. please don't do your own mitigation work. oh my god.at the very least because sometimes insurance companies get super super picky about that and might reject your claim for it.

if you can see water damage on the other side of a wall, it means the water has gone through the drywall. the longer it's wet and uncared for--I'm talking like, 2 days or more--the more likely things will need to be removed and/or demolished. certainly after 2 days the insulation will almost certainly need to be removed and new insulation installed. this will cost money.

the older the building, the more likely anything in that building will fail at any given time. sure maybe the piping lasted 100 years but that's because it took 100 years to eat away the piping until it finally gave out on the 101st year

meaning the older the building, the more likely it becomes that you'll experience pipe bursts, leaks, electrical mishaps, sewage leaks, etc. etc.

when it comes to water mitigation, there's two kinds: cleanwater and blackwater. cleanwater is what comes out of your tap. blackwater is poopy sewage. blackwater is, without fail, a gazillion times more expensive because it will, as a requirement, involve some form of demolition. it should. that's a health hazard man. you don't know what (else) is in poopy sewage water.

if you can't have the water turned off to do any mitigation, then you HAVE to get a specialist before we can do any restoration. if the pipe is still leaking, then mitigation work will kind of be for nothing.

if you're planning on filing any claims, do that FIRST before you call anybody. the insurance company will have a list of people to call and will tell you how to go about things so that your claim is solid. filing online is fine but it's usually a good idea to have an actual name and contact information for an adjuster (the person who'll be looking at the damage and seeing what needs to be done)

don't fret. sometimes even things I thought would be totally unsalvageable were salvageable! they have lots of tips and tricks, and the technicians and their managers are usually happy to talk about their trade with you

a lot of these technicians really do care, even if they're mostly in it for the work. so many of these guys would do this because this kind of work is pure enrichment for them, but they got families to take care of. it gets genuinely frustrating sometimes to know what work needs to be done and wanting to do so, but the insurance company won't pay out, so nothing can be done.

if your insurance company is giving you the reach-around and you think they're fucking you over, there's something called the insurance commissioner. they're who you can report insurance company fuckery to and the commissioner is usually pretty on top of it. I've seen customers be fucked over for months by their insurance company call the commissioner, and within a few hours the insurance company ~*~magically~*~ has a fire lit under their ass and just so so happy to help you out.

you get what you pay for. whether construction, mitigation, whatever. you pay for cheap mitigation work, you will get cheap results.

something you really don't want cheap results for: mitigation work

things landlords are absolutely fucking notorious for: wanting cheap mitigation work. don't listen to any stupid schpiel they give you about caring or whatever work they said they put in. sure they did pay $10k for restoration work--because it was a job worth about $20k, and they went with the rock-bottom contractor who put a half-assed half day's work in that will fall apart in a few years

fuck landlords and property managers. but you already knew that if you follow me.

Lastly, if you have time to spare and want to make a technician's day, ask them what their worst or most fun job was. they are so happy to tell you.

they have so. many. stories.