#and the spirits that drive her to silence them all

[saintobio]

₊˚✩ starlight.

pairings. l&ds xavier, fem!reader tags. 800+ wc. jealous bf!xavier, fluff, reverse hurt/comfort, main story long awaited revelry spoilers, altered some scenes, may or may not be inspired by his tender nights memory :’) dividers by strangergraphics.

xavier isn’t exactly the happiest when you returned to linkon city after being in the n109 zone. don’t get him wrong—he’s absolutely grateful that you came back safe and whole. it’s just that… he didn’t like how your eyes sparkled when you started mentioning his greatest adversary: sylus.

you’re obviously suppressing a smile too, as you reminisce the events that occurred between you and the onychinus leader. you’re particularly giddy about that moment at the auction, it seems, where you said you had to play the part of being sylus’s partner for the night.

dammit, xavier feels his chest tightening when he imagines those scenes in his head. he wants to cover his ears badly, but has no other choice but listen intently. all he can do is listen in silence and try to bottle every spark of jealousy that ignited within him. he has to pretend that he’s happy and proud of you, but then again, he just can’t freaking ignore the way your face lit up at the mention of sylus. 

xavier sighs as you continue your enthusiastic storytelling. fine, then. he sulks to himself. just have to get this day over with.

~

date night came, and as you walk through the city garden, you notice xavier’s silence grew more pronounced. you try to engage him, but his responses are rather curt, his usual warmth replaced by a cold distance. during dinner, even his favorite hotpot couldn’t lift his spirits. he would push the food around on his plate, barely having the appetite to eat.

huh? that’s new, you muse. xavier is usually the most excited to eat hotpot on a cold day.

when he takes you to your place later that night, the tension is palpable. you know you have to bring it up at that point. otherwise, this game of silence will never end.

“xav, is something wrong?” you try to ask in a soft, comforting voice. 

but xavier only shakes his head, forcing his usual endearing smile. “nothing’s wrong. you should go to sleep.”

~

that same evening, xavier sits at his desk, staring at his laptop screen for more than an hour. his fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitating before he finally types into the anonymous forum.

starlight123: what do you do if your gf keeps talking about another guy? i love her, but it’s driving me crazy. any advice?

he hits post and leans back, running a hand through his hair. the minutes ticked by, each one stretching longer than the last. then, the replies start coming in.

anonymous user: talk to her about it. anonymous user: maybe she doesn’t realize how it’s affecting you. anonymous user: communication is key, bro.

but one comment stood out, cutting through the well-meaning advice like a knife.

anonymous user: it's game over for you, man. girls like toxic boys who treat them like dirt. you're too nice. she probably already slept with him.

xavier’s heart sank.. he quickly closes the laptop, feeling an uncomfortable pang on his chest. is he really losing you to someone like sylus?

~

the next few days are torture. xavier stopped responding to your messages. he stopped commenting on your moments posts. he won’t even ask you to play kitty cards or catch plushies on the claw machines. and even if you see him around, he’s always distant, giving you brief, obligatory smiles. he still greets tara warmly, but with you, there’s always this thick wall in between. he's acting like a stranger, as if he doesn't care about you, as if he's not dating you...

agh, you can’t stand it anymore!

one night, you find yourself knocking on his door, needing desperate answers for your desperate questions.

xavier then opens the door, sweaty and out of breath. a dumbbell lay on his living room floor, and his hair is pushed back, revealing a flushed face.

“new hairstyle?” you ask, stepping inside and noticing the sudden eccentricity in his movements. “what are you doing, boyfriend?”

xavier’s cheeks are limned with a red tint as he looks away. “nothing.”

“are you trying to gain more muscles?” you press, amusement edging your voice.

at this, he lets out a defeated sigh and finally faces you. “do you prefer tall, muscular guys?” the sudden question came out of nowhere, until it was followed by another, and that’s when you started seeing the pattern. “do you… do you like bad boys more?” 

“xav, why are you asking me this?” crossing your arms, you tilt your head so his avoidant eyes would meet yours. 

“well, you can answer me first.” 

“not until you look me in the eyes!” 

still, he refuses to meet your gaze and his voice wavers with insecurity when he spoke, “it's okay, i get it. you do prefer guys like that.” his eyes stays on the floor, turning his face away. “if so, then i may not be like them, but i can still make you happy in my own little ways.”

your heart immediately melts at his words. it all makes sense now. him working out in the middle of the night, him styling his hair up, him trying to act like he doesn’t care about you—he’s trying to be sylus!

stepping closer, you chuckle and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a sweet kiss. “xavier, you’re the only one i like. i’ll never replace you.” you place another peck on his lips, then on his cheek, then on his nose. “besides, sylus is annoying. i prefer the presence of my very adorable golden retriever boyfriend!”

“you really mean it?” his puppy eyes stares at you earnestly.

your response is a confident nod. “i swear it. and, duh! lumiere is way hotter than him.”

his arms encircles your waist, holding you tightly as he lifts your chin and plants a tender kiss on your lips. the tension eventually melts away as you reassure him with your touch and your words. in that moment, all his jealousy and insecurity faded, now replaced by the warmth of your love. “you’re mine,” he reminds, nose nuzzling into yours. “i don’t want to share you with anyone else.” 

[calicoheartz]

“Baby I” - Paige Bueckers♡

summary : jealous Paige Bueckers x reader !

wc ; 897

synopsis : inspired by the song “baby i” by Ariana Grande :) Paige’s jealousy often gets in the way of your relationship, so what happens when you interact with a particularly attractive stranger?

warning : angst , suggestive content , jealousy / possessiveness

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : look at me having a posting streak !! decided to try something new today, so I hope yall enjoy ◡̈

You and Paige had been dating for not too long, but your relationship had certainly developed into one where strong feelings and emotions played a huge factor in your everyday lives.

It was no secret to you that Paige was jealous, envious even; it caused you a fair share of problems throughout your relationship. Whether it was through jealous ridden comments, or snarky remarks, it was slowly starting to take a toll on you.

You and Paige were invited to go bar hopping with the team, as a celebration of the victorious win for Uconn. The free spirited and ambient environment encouraged you to let loose, encouraging you to not only grab a drink from the bar, but to strike up a couple of conversations with individuals around you.

It’s not that Paige didn’t want you to talk to other people, it’s just that when it comes to you; she’s very, how do I word this.. Overbearing? Whether it was constantly having her hands glued to your waist, peppering your face with kisses, or shooting bitter looks and whoever even dares to be just a little too friendly.

On this particular night, a very attractive character to say the least, approached you; beginning to start a simple conversation. Asking things like your name, complimenting your outfit, and overall trying to learn more about you

From across the room, you can see the blonde staring intensely at you, giving you a disapproving look; signaling you to end the conversation. You furrowed your brows and gave her a confused look back, not understanding how the conversation was moving south in any way.

You quickly turned back around, further continuing your conversation with the stranger, when all of a sudden you feel a harsh tug on your wrist. “It was nice meeting you, but we have to go.” And just like that, there you were, being dragged out of the bar by your girlfriend. Who seemed incredibly pissed.

The drive back home was unbearable, no words were exchanged between you two. The blonde never acknowledging you on your journey back home, knuckles white due to her intense grip on the steering wheel. You couldn’t tell if she was upset, disappointed, horny, or a mix of all 3.

As soon as you reached your apartment, your nerves were eating you alive. You had no idea what was waiting for you once you reached your apartment door.

You quickly hurried inside, and situated yourself on your shared couch. Waiting for her to say something. You felt your heart pounding, unable to even form coherent words. When you realized the endless silence, you simply muttered out a “I’m..sorry?.” Paige rolled her eyes at you, scoffing in the process. “YOU’RE sorry? They were practically throwing themselves at you and all you did was stand there and let them.” You were shocked, you knew Paige could take things the wrong way, but you never imagined her of all people would think you would be the type to do that.

“Paige…” you started. “You know I love you more than anything, but you know words can’t even touch what’s in my heart,” you continued. Your eyes now spilling out tears you tried your hardest to keep in.

“Then why don’t you ever tell me?”... “I feel like I’m constantly competing with others for your attention” This statement startled you, as you knew Paige was well aware of your difficulty to express yourself, let alone reassure others. Fuck. Oh how badly you wished the floor underneath you would simply collapse, giving you any sort of escape from the high tensioned conversation.

You felt as if you were to speak, your throat would simply close up. You managed to croak out.. “It’s just when I try to explain it, I be sounding insane. Sometimes it feels like the words don’t ever come out right.” She looks at you, her gaze softening a bit; as a reaction to your sudden vulnerability.

“It’s just I don’t know…the words just never come out right when it comes to you. You make me get all tongue tied and twisted, and I literally cannot explain what I’m feeling.” “Baby-” “No.” - you cut her off. Quickly feeling a rush of adrenaline run through you. “Yes, I should’ve been more clear and work on my communication, but you need to realize that not everyone is trying to sabotage our relationship. It’s exhausting. I can’t keep isolating myself due to your jealous fits of rage.”

Paige looks at you, tears welling in her eyes, threatening to spill out if she even mumbles out a word. She muttered a quiet “im sorry…”, her voice cracking at the last word, her eyes glued to the floor as she anticipated your response.

As if she were a magnet, you run towards her and wrap your arms around her tall frame, gently rubbing circles into your back as sobs slowly escape her lips. This entire thing had been a complete misunderstanding, and her jealousy blinded her judgment. Through her weeps you were able to make out “i love you. All i was trying to say is that youre my everything and-”

She wasnt even able to finish her sentence as she felt your warm lips on hers, entangling her in a deep and loving kiss. “If that doesnt show you that i love you, i dont know what will”

not sure how to feel about this tbh, originally i was gonna give this a sad ending but since the song is a love song, it didn’t feel fitting. Lmk ur thoughts !! Thanks for reading ◡̈

[bbina]

"i don't understand why you feel scared meeting my parents, babe. i'm one hundred percent sure they'll love you as much as i do" chenle calls out from your bedroom as you go over your outfit for the 127th time today

today was the day you were gonna meet his parents for the first time. chenle decided that you two have been dating for a decent amount of time that it was time to introduce you to his folks

there was nothing wrong with meeting your significant other's parents. in fact, it's even a privilege to meet the people who've raised your partner with care and love

but what chenle doesn't understand is that you're afraid of meeting his parents. so scared that you might actually ditch on them on the last minute in attempt to hide away from the fact that you, out of all people is dating their beloved son

you've heard it for quite sometime now. that chinese parents tend to usually look after people who are in some impressive bloodline that could lead to business expansions. knowing that chenle's parents were very much involved in the business scene, maybe chenle has been set up with other wealthy chinese bloodlines that could eventually carry their legacies for further generations

this has always been your insecurity with your relationship with chenle. hell, you even knew what you were getting into when chenle first courted you

although chenle has been great at easing out your anxieties and fears about this stereotypical reality, still, the thought of his parents disliking you upon the first meet still lingers at the back of your mind

you must've been deep in thought that you barely noticed chenle's presence behind you. you were brought back to reality when you felt chenle's arms wrap around your body, his chin resting on your shoulder

"i promise you, they'll love you. just trust me" chenle says, leaving kisses form your shoulders up to your jaw

your shoulders drop, looking at chenle through the mirror

"i'm just scared that they won't like me" you whispered, looking at yourself in the mirror, "terrified even. what if they judge me for my background? what if they did a background check on me- on my family? what if your mom will ask me to meet her at the back of the alley and she'll be like 'stay away from my son'? what if–"

chenle cuts you off by grabbing your cheeks, smashing your lips together

"breathe, babe, breathe" chenle soothes, rubbing circles on your cheeks with his thumb. you stare up at him tearily. your mind going haywire at the thoughts going on your head. your insecurities being with someone like him going overtime

"didn't we already talk about this last time? i told you not to think like that. my parents aren't like that. i swear on my life they will like you. if i like you for who you are then i'm sure they will too" chenle reassures, leaning his forehead against yours as he meets your eyes

you bite your lip, still unable to shake the feeling away. you know chenle means well and he sticks to his word

"just trust me on this, bǎobèi. trust me" chenle kisses your forehead, hoping that it will ease your nerves more. you suck in a deep breath before slowly nodding your head yes

"... okay"

chenle pulls away, looking at you with a big smile on his face.

"that's the spirit, baby. i can't wait to tell my mom all about you when we get there. she'll be happy to hear that i'm in good hands" chenle babbles, smiling to himself at the thought of you and his mom being close

and just like it was on cue his phone vibrates inside his pocket. chenle whips it out and reads the notification

"it's my dad. he said they're on the way to the restaurant"

—

the car ride to the restaurant was filled with a nervous silence. you fidget with the hem of your dress, stealing glances at chenle occasionally. he reaches his hand out for yours, squeezing your hand gently when he felt your nervous glances. his silent way of calming your nerves as he drives you two to the restaurant.

you and chenle were now at the parking lot of the restaurant you two were meeting his parents in

"ready?" chenle asks, looking over at your side of the car

you take a look at yourself through the sun visor one last time before sucking in a deep breath

"ready as i'll ever be.." you murmured. if you walk through those doors your life might change for the better or for the worse. you are silently praying that it will be the latter

chenle smiles, reaching over to tuck some hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek. "i sound like a broken record right now but trust me when i say that they will absolutely fucking love you"

you placed your hands above his, giving them a small squeeze. "i hope they will, lele"

chenle grins before removing his hand from your face. he clasps them together, "okay let's go. they might be inside already"

it was now or never.

—

you and chenle walk inside the restaurant where his parents were waiting in, hand in hand

his parents chose a restaurant that had exclusive rooms reserved for VIP customers. that itself was already a slap on the face on the difference of their social status compared to yours. the plush carpets, the glittering chandeliers, everything just screams wealth and privilege

chenle must've read your mind because he suddenly blurts out that his parents and the owner of the restaurant go way back that's why they get special treatment such as using the said exclusive rooms

"my dad loves this place and is actually friends with the owner. so i'm not surprised they chose to use the VIP room to meet you. they must be so excited to meet the love of my life" chenle gushes, guiding you through the endless backrooms of the restaurant

chenle then stops at a door. it must be the room where his parents were waiting in. this is it. you are finally getting to meet mr. and mrs. zhong

he knocks and wait for his parents to acknowledge it. not a second later the red door opens and there you first make eye contact with his dad, mr. zhong

"dad!" chenle beams, greeting his father with a hug. you straighten your posture as you wait for chenle to introduce you to his father first.

chenle's dad laughs before patting his beloved son on his back

"dad, meet my girlfriend, y/n. y/n, this is my dad" chenle puts an arm behind the small of your back, pulling you slightly to let you meet his father.

you smile as you bow politely in front of mr. zhong

"hello mr. zhong. it's so nice to finally meet you" you greet politely. hoping you were showing your best smile in front of the older man. you felt a surge of nerves meeting mr. zhong's eyes for the first time. but his firm handshake felt more reassuring than intimidating.

before mr. zhong can reply, his mom suddenly stands up and goes up to you. mrs. zhong's excitement catches you off guard. her warm hug and excited chatter dispels your fears and anxiety on meeting them today

"is this my future daughter in law i've been hearing about? i've been wanting to meet you, sweet child!" chenle's mother gushes, waving her hands around to show her excitement

you freeze in shock with the sudden unexpected turn of events. this was definitely not how you imagined it to be. you were expecting hard glares, cold shoulders and not this

"ma! you're scaring her!" chenle nags, shooing his mother off who only swats his hand away

"oh shush, lele! you talk about her all the time of course i'm excited to meet the lady who makes my son the happiest!" mrs. zhong retorts. she then takes a good look at you before gushing again

"she's prettier in person, lele! why didn't you introduce her to us sooner!" she squeals in delight.

you try your best to bite back a smile. you honestly didn't expect this at all. you then make eye contact with chenle who's looking at you with the biggest smirk on his face you've ever seen. almost like he was telepathically telling you 'i told you so'

"i should say the same about you, mrs. zhong. it's so nice to finally meet you. chenle has told me a lot of things about you" you bow again to show formalities

"well i hope they were good things! likewise, dear. you sit down first. are you hungry yet? we can order already if you are. don't be shy! lele! are you treating her right?!"

questions are thrown all over the place you honestly don't know what to answer first. all you're getting is that you're in one hell of a ride today

food is served by the time you and his mom are in a deep conversation. you never thought you'd connect to another woman who wasn't your mom. mrs. zhong’s genuine interest in your life and happiness was touching

"as i was saying dear before we got interrupted, is chenle treating you well?" mrs. zhong prods, side eyeing her son who's ears were now perked up at the mention of his name. her eyes twinkling with curiosity and a hint of motherly concern

you take a good look at chenle before looking back at his mom. he kinda resembles his mom, you thought to yourself. shaking the thought away, you give his mom a smile

"he's the best. you raised him well, mrs. zhong" you smile

mrs. zhong beams and chenle’s father nodded approvingly. chenle reaches for your hand under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

as dinner progressed, the conversation flowed effortlessly. you found yourself laughing and sharing stories with chenle’s parents, the initial fear melting away.

by the time dinner has ended, mrs. zhong was already planning another get-together.

"you should come by our house sometime and have some tea! do you like tea? what tea do you like? i can order some right away so you'd come over. lele! bring her over sometime! how does tomorrow sound? are you free?"

"tea sounds delightful, mrs. zhong! and tomorrow is fine with me. not sure with chenle though.." you trail off, nudging chenle with your elbow.

"dunno. don't want to drive all the way ther– ow! what was that for!" chenle cries out when his mom pinches his arm. "i was just playing! we'll see you tomorrow ma!" chenle hisses, rubbing the spot his mom just pinched him

you, along with mr. and mrs. zhong laugh. the evening turned out better than you could have ever imagined. before you were gonna go on your separate ways, mrs. zhong pulls you aside.

"you know," she starts, "chenle has always been our pride, and now i see why he chose you. welcome to the family"

tears of relief fill your eyes as you thanked her. "thank you mrs. zhong. i'm so happy and relieved to hear that" you wipe a stray tear that escaped from your eye

"oh please, sweetheart, call me lily. calling me mrs. zhong makes me feel old!" she jokes, softly stroking your hair.

and before you know it, both mr. and mrs. zhong go on their separate ways. you and chenle stand outside the restaurant as you both watch their car slowly disappear from sight.

now here you two were, outside under the soft glow of the streetlights, walking back to his car to go back home.

chenle kisses the side of your head, "what did i tell you? told you they'll love you" he smugly says, feeling nothing but pride and joy that you are now welcome to his family

you poke his side causing him to yelp. "oh shut up!" you blush

chenle’s smug smile says it all. he knew this would happen. he wouldn't be with you in the first place if he knew his parents wouldn't like his partner from the get go

in that moment, you realized that you didn't just meet his parents, you were now becoming a part of a family that already cherished you as one of their own

so much for conquering the great wall

[ktaerssoi]

cheering for us pt. 2

pt. 1

summary; the three first dates with kate martin

kate martin x cheerleader!reader

you had been cheering your girlfriend on from the sidelines for four years, the first two years you were just hopelessly staring out on the court doing your routine cheers, praying that she would see you. then she did, and the two years since then have been truly nothing but bliss. 

you have countless stories of the dates the two of you have gone on, but none of them can top the first three. 

date one, the movies. 

traditionally, first dates at the movies aren't great. sitting in a crumby theater with a bunch of other people where you can't talk for at least an hour? and you're supposed to bond with someone? That's why your plans to go to the movies were adapted. 

kate had picked you up from your apartment at six o'clock on the dot. you had a feeling she wasn't exactly sure what she was doing from the moment she had asked you to the movies. 

it was half time and the spirit was high as you and the rest of the cheer squad tried to ramp up the energy. Iowa was down by 6, and you could tell Kate was stressed. you guys had been friends for a little while at that point, she called you her "good luck charm." she told people she never did well at games when you weren't there. needless to say, people already thought you guys had something going on. 

because it was halftime, you and the team had been instructed to go out onto the court and do some sort of routine. it wasn't bad, to say the least, the crowd ate it up at the team seemed to be ready to lock in for when the third quarter started.   

before you could leave the court Kate had grabbed your arm. "hey do you want to catch a movie sometime?" the words had tumbled out of her mouth and your adrenaline kick mixed with the fact that she was the only person you thought about while performing made you give her an instant "yes!" an answer that you would not regret in the future.   

Now, you were standing in the lobby of the movie theater, playful banter between you and Kate as you argued whether Skittles or M&M's were better. (it's skittles.) you guys had gone to see some Marvel movie, Marvel being a movie series that you originally bonded over. 

as the two of you were walking out of the theater, you realized that it would be time to part ways for the night. but, it was your turn to be spontaneous. "hey, wanna go back to my place?" you bit your lip trying to gauge her reaction, and as you saw the look of a middle school boy thinking about what "going back to my place" could mean, you quickly added onto your statement. "or we could get food or something, I just don't want to go yet." 

kate saw your nervous demeanor, thinking it was cute you didn't want to leave yet. "yeah sure, I could eat." 

-

You had been ranting to Kate for the whole twenty-minute drive to some diner you found on Google Maps, and she would occasionally have a question or words of advice. 

When you pulled into the parking lot before you could even unbuckle your seatbelt Kate was opening the door for you, her hand extended out to you. "Thanks," you mumbled as you tried to hide your flustered state. 

walking into the diner, you quickly get seated. you were almost self-conscious of how much you had been talking, biting your lip to try and silence your words. 

Kate clears her throat, looking down at the menu before her eyes flick up to you. "so, whatcha getting?" You snap out of your thoughts, picking up the menu and flipping through it. "um, I don't know, probably a sandwich or something.." 

"Mmm, sounds good, I think I'll go for the burger. You okay? You're quiet all of a sudden." She sets the menu down, crossing her arms. She was staring at you. intensely. 

"I, uh, yeah. I'm fine, I just want to get to know you more." It's your turn to cross your arms, thinking of more topics to talk about. Kate takes a deep breath, narrowing her eyes at you. "Okay, what do you want to know? That you don't already know, I mean." 

You smile, a playful eye roll following it. "Well, what did you think of the movie?" She takes yet another deep breath, smiling. "It was good, gotta love Dr. Strange." 

"Dr. Strange? That is your favorite character? seriously?" You scoff, then quickly sit up straight as a waiter comes over to your table. She jots down your drink orders, letting you know that she would be back shortly with them.  

"Yes, Dr. Strange. He's hot in a way.." Kate says sheepishly, her cheeks becoming red. "No shot you just called Dr. Strange hot. I thought you were supposed to like me! hm, you know, I'm thinking this was all just some ploy to go fangirl over him."

"What? I'm offended, truly." She raises her hand to her chest in mock offense, her mouth agape. "And I would take a date with you over Dr. Strange any day." You nod a smile on your face at her antics. 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. but I swear if I catch you watching edits I'm out of here." 

date two, the fair 

A week or two after your first date you got a text from Kate, inviting you to go to the fair for some double date. You accepted before even finding out who the second couple was, but you knew it would be fine as long as Kate was there. 

You found out later on the phone that night that the second couple would be Caitlin and her boyfriend, and that's when it hit you. caitlin and Conner weren't the second couples, you and Kate were. To most people, that wouldn't mean anything, but to you it made you think that Kate had been talking about how awkward the first date was and Caitlin decided to step in and help. 

Or you were overthinking. Definitely overthinking. 

-

You smiled as you read the text that Kate had sent you letting you know she was outside. You waved as you walked up to her car, "Hi Kate," You watched as her face lit up, color rushing to her cheeks. "Hey," She said breathlessly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. 

"Oh my gosh I am so excited for funnel cake." you ranted as she drove to Caitlin's, the four of you deciding to take her car. "I only had it once, and it was in like the seventh grade with a bunch of my friends but it was so good." 

"Really? I dunno, I think fried ice cream is far better." She liked hearing you talk, it gave her time to think. mostly think about you, and if it wasn't you, it was your future together. "What about the games? I mean, the ring toss is so fun" 

You were surprised, you had been friends for a month or two before she asked you out, but even then she listened to you more than she spoke. "Really? Aren't there rides too? I feel like I remember a drop ride" 

"Uhh, yeah. I'm not a big fan of them though, it's freaky that they get taken down and put back up so quickly. Cait likes them though, so you could probably get her on a ride." She bites her lip, shuddering as she thinks about the structure of the attractions. 

"Yeah, sure sounds fun." You mumble as the car pulls into Caitlin's complex. "Are they nice? like I know Caitlin chill with you, but like how is Conner, do you think they would like me?" You fidget with your hands, trying to relax. 

"They'll like you, I swear." She parks the car, grabbing your hand, and giving it a gentle squeeze before she got out to open your door. making your way up to Caitlin's apartment.

You take a deep breath as you watch Kate knock on the door, trying to calm your nerves. You relax as you see Caitlin's warm smile, you had never met her before, not officially, but you could tell she was kind. 

Caitlin cared for her teammates and you were aware of how close she and Kate were, that's why you were surprised when she pulled Kate in for a hug. She quickly remembered that you were there too, and pulled back flashy you one of her signature smile. 

"Hey, I'm Caitlin." she sticks out her hand, which you quickly accept. "Nice to meet you, Kate has told me so much about you." You smile at her, following Kate as Caitlin leads the two of you into her apartment. 

You have a similar introduction with Conner, and soon after, the four of you leave to head to the fairgrounds. You and Kate found yourselves situated in the backseat while Caitlin and Conner took the front. 

-

"Oh my god funnel cake!" You laughed as you dropped Kate's hand, running over to the stand. "You're so immature." Kate laughed as she caught up to you, pulling out her wallet. "Hey woah, what are you doing? I got it, it's for me after all." You narrowed your eyes at her, pulling out your wallet. 

"Nuh-uh, I'm getting this...please?" She gave you her signature puppy dog eyes, and you knew you couldn't say no, opting to instead shake your head as you watched her pay. "Unbelievable." You mumbled as Kate walked over to you, a plate of funnel cake in hand. 

"shut up, you love me." She quickly realized what she said, and the color drained from her face slightly. "I, um, I didn't mean it like that I just," You nod, a smile of adoration on your face as you watch her get all flustered. 

"It's fine, I know what you meant." You grinned down at your food, picking up a piece and trying some, a look of surprise on your face. "That's so good! Oh my god, seriously try some. What?" You look up to see Kate already staring at you, a look you couldn't quite read present on her face. 

"Nothing, it's just, i don't know. You're so pretty." She tucks her hair behind her ears, something she does when she's nervous, and you realize that Caitlin and Conner have disappeared. "thank you, I mean, you're really really pretty too," You stutter, not exactly sure what to think. 

"Can I kiss you?" She asks quickly, her eyes flashing between your eyes and your lips. "Yes." You don't even think about it before pushing yourself up onto your tippy toes to level your heights. Her lips crash onto yours no more than a second later, passion and adrenaline coursing through the two of you. 

You were the first to pull away, letting your feet fall flat as you took a deep breath. "Woah," you say breathlessly, your close proximity still clouding your brain. 

Kate chuckles, a sound you wish to never forget, as she brushes a stray hair out of your face. "You are so pretty." She stares at you, not breaking eye contact for a second. dodging the compliment, you ask a question, "Where'd Caitlin and Conner go?" 

"Um, I think to get a pretzel, Conner was hungry or something. I don't know, the guys a tool," she says as she looks around, seeing if she can spot them in the crowd. "Kate!" you yelp, playfully hitting her shoulder. 

"What? Are you telling me it's not true?" She smiles down at you, waiting for your objection. "Exactly, the guy is a tool!" You shake your head, amused by her antics. 

Best second date ever. 

date three, a picnic 

Not even a day after your date at the fair you ran into Kate at the gym, and she had asked you out, yet again. This time she was more formal with it. 

You had been packing up your things, it was late, almost four. You had been walking out of the shower area, taking out your AirPods when you ran into someone. "Oh my god, I am so- oh, hey Kate." You flashed her a wide smile, happy to run into her. 

"Hey, I didn't know you came here?" She crossed her arms, and you watched as they flexed under her shirt. "Yeah, I switched gyms a few months ago, longggg story." You smiled, pulling your eyes away from her biceps.

Sensing the conversation coming to a close you began to walk away, but were quickly stopped when Kate lightly tugged on your arm. "Want to go out again this week? We could have a picnic or something, I'll plan it and everything I just want to hang out with you."

You nod your head, watching her intently. "Yeah sure, I would love to, text me about it later." She looked at you expectingly, and you almost didn't understand what she wanted. "I'll see you around Kate." You were going to keep her waiting. 

-

The plans had been made that night, she had called you after practice, telling you all about her day. One thing about phone calls with Kate is that she was a completely different person. She was talkative, saying anything that came to mind, regardless of your opinions.

The two of you decided to have a picnic the following day.

-

"hey," you smiled at kate as she opened the door, moving to let you into her apartment. "hi, i just need to grab some stuff and then we can go, okay?" kate looked at you, waiting for your reassurance.

"oh yeah, sounds good." you nodded, taking the moment alone to look around her space. Kate kept a clean home, all the blankets were folded neatly and everything seemed to be in its place. Either Kate was surprisingly clean-lined, or she had clean profusely before your arrival.

You snapped out of your thoughts as Kate walked back into the living room, blanket and cooler in hand. "Ready?" Kate questioned as she nodded toward the door, you responded wordlessly, walking over to the door and holding it open for her.

"Are we taking my car or yours?" You asked as you held your picnic supplies while Kate locked her front door. "Mine, obviously. I mean, it's the one with the bigger backseat." She says with a grin.

Confused, you narrow your eyes at her, not understanding her implications. "What does size have to- oh. I get it." Kate nods, a smirk on her face at your bashful state. "Mhm," She hums as she walks over the the drivers side of her car.

You quickly place the items you were carrying into the backseat, Kate was right, the backseat was bigger in her car. "So, where are we off to?" You question as you hop into the passenger seat.

"It's a surprise," Kate notices your hesitation at her comment, "a good surprise a swear." You nod, anxious for the possibilities of the night. "So, what did you think of the other night?" Kate asked, her hand inching closer to your leg as she drove.

"Like, the people or the night in general? because the fair was great, the company, not so much." You grin, shrugging your shoulders as she gasps. "Well, here i was thinking i was taking out a nice girl, but really you're just leading me on. What a shame." Kate tries to contain her laughter, but fails as she sees you giggle.

"No, seriously, it was a lot of fun. Did Caitlin like me? I mean, her liking me is almost as important as your family." Your question is joking, but Kate can sense the hint of true curiosity in your words.

"Yeah actually, i was talking to her after practice yesterday and she said that she really liked hanging out with us. She even invited us to some party." Kate had taken her arm away from your leg to make a turn, and you miss the feeling of slight anticipation from your closeness, but quickly regain your excitement when you realize where you've arrived.

"Oh my gosh, i haven't been to the beach in ages!" you smile, opening your door as soon as the car was in park. Kate watches as you run down the boardwalk, kicking off your sandals as you rush down to the water. "Calm down, Killer, we still have to eat before you go and drown in your excitement."

"Hey, i'll have you know that i was on swim team! The only one with the possibility of drowning in excitement is you, because your here with me," You send Kate a wink, watching her face flush at the simple action.

"Okay, lets not get to cocky." Kate shakes her head, as she continues her walk to a picnic table not far from the water, you close behind her. "So, what did you bring?" Your face lights up as she pulls out a fruit salad, and to her surprise you get even happier when she tells you she brought cookies too.

"You're seriously to sweet," You take a moment to admire Kate, taking note of the way loose strand of hair falls perfectly from her ponytail, how her hands are calloused from years of refining her sport, she was breath taking.

"What?" The sound of kate's voice pulled you from your thoughts. "Nothing, you're just amazing. I mean, you didn't have to do any of this." You sit down across from her at the table, looking at all the food. "Is it to much? If it is i totally understand, we can just go get pizza or something,"

"What? No this is literally so sweet, i'm just really grateful." You grab her hand, giving it a squeeze of reassurance. "We never talked about our kiss." The words tumbled out of Kate's mouth, like she had been thinking of saying it since it happened.

"Well what is there to say?" Your eyebrows knitting together at her statement, you thought it was a good kiss, not relationship defining though. "I don't know, it was good." Kate bites her lip as she hands you one of the paper plates she brought.

"I thought so too," you laughed, thinking back to the memory. "I had a lot of fun, i really like hanging out with you." you pop a piece of pineapple into your mouth, punctuating your statement. "You trying to ask me to be your girlfriend or something?" you nearly choke on said pineapple, the thought of calling Kate yours being insane.

Clearing your throat, you spit out your thoughts. "Is that what you want me to be asking?" Kate's eyes widen slightly as she pushes a grape around her plate, shrugging. "I mean, I wouldn't be opposed to the idea.."

You shake your head at her attempt to be nonchalant. "Okay then, Kate Martin, would you be my girlfriend?" You bite your lip, awaiting her answer. "Well now it feels forced!" Kate laughs, nodding her head yes. "but yes, i would love to be your girlfriend."

"cool, good thing we talked about that kiss." You laughed, getting up to throw your plate away in a near by trash can. Kate pulled you close to her as you came up behind her after discarding your plate, her chin resting against your stomach.

"you're so pretty," Kate mumbled as she stared up at you through her eyelashes. "Uh-oh, thats what you said last time we kissed and now i'm stuck with you!" You giggled as Kate stood up, muttering a little "shut up," before her lips were on yours for the second time that week.

"Is that how you talk to your girlfriend?" You cross your arms as the two of you separate. "Seriously shut up, i'm not done." Kate rolls her eyes, pulling you closer to her once again.

That bigger backseat did come in handy.

notes: a special thank u to my fav person ever, @girlokwhatever.. i swear im going to bed after this.

[peachhcs]

can we get some samy and jack time? I feel like their dynamic would be fun!

mini golfing the anger away

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

jack takes samy out on an adventure to help her get over the breakup

here’s some requested samy & jack dynamic as he helps samy through the breakup in an attempt to lift her spirits. i don’t know how many words this is but it’s around the same as my other fics:)

au masterlist

there was one loud knock on samy’s door before it flung open without a chance for her to ask who it was. jack’s mop of brown hair peaked its way through as the younger girl raised her eyebrow in confusion.

“good you’re up,” the boy hummed.

“what do you want?” samy huffed, a bit annoyed that jack just bursted in without much explanation.

“we’re going for a little adventure because you’ve been stuck inside all day and i think you need fresh air to clear your mind,” jack determined like he had everything planned out already and he did.

“i don’t need fresh air. i’m wallowing in self-pity,” the girl groaned, pulling her blankets further up her body like they’d hide her.

jack shuffled to the bed until he sat down on the edge of it and pulled the blankets back down much to his sister’s dismay. “look, i know you’ve been going through a lot with the breakup and everything. i just wanna brighten your mood a bit and hang out with you because i feel like we haven’t hung out one on one in awhile,” the older boy softened his tone out.

“you and me hanging out results in things we shouldn’t be doing 99% of the time,” samy deadpanned.

“doesn’t that make it more fun though?” jack smirked.

the girl knew her brother wasn’t taking no for an answer, so with a long sigh, she sat up and pushed the blankets down completely.

“okay, fine. can you give me like fifteen minutes and i’ll meet you downstairs?” with that, jack beamed and nodded.

“no later than fifteen!” samy rolled her eyes a bit as her brother quickly disappeared from her room, but the small smile on her lips said otherwise.

—

fifteen minutes later on the dot, samy trailed down the stairs dressed in better outfit that wasn’t a t-shirt and sweatpants. jack was in the kitchen scrolling through his phone when the girl found him.

“okay, i’m ready,” she poked his shoulder.

“ow, that’s my bad shoulder,” the older boy pulled away making samy laugh.

she followed him out of the house and to his car. because jack planned the outing, he let samy have aux.

“are you gonna tell me what we’re doing?” the girl asked as they rolled out of the driveway.

“it wouldn’t be a surprise if i told you,” jack said in a “duh” tone. that made the brunette roll her eyes, but she didn’t say anything else.

the siblings let the soft music fill the car’s silence as jack drove through the familiar roads of ann arbor, michigan. everything they passed reminded samy of a memory with will when they were little which was a bit bittersweet now.

“remember when you and luke got stranded in the lowe’s parking lot?” jack snapped the girl from her thoughts. her gaze bounced to the big department store they flew past and a smile inched its way to her lips.

“god, that felt like a nightmare. we were so scared,” samy laughed.

“mom was freaking out when she realized she left you guys behind. i don’t think i’ve ever seen her that crazy. she swerved around on all of these roads,” jack laughed too.

“i’m pretty sure i cried the entire time until i saw mom,” the younger brunette grinned.

“you were always such a cry baby,” the older boy teased making samy pinch his arm.

“shut up, you were too. quinn’s the worst one out of all of us though,” for being the oldest, quinn sure was a mama’s boy when he was little.

after another ten minutes, jack pulled into a small gravel drive while samy’s eyes lit up a bit when she realized where they were.

“we’re going mini golfing?” the girl wondered as the sign in front of them read “annie’s putt putt and ice cream” — a staple of the hughes’ kids childhood.

“i thought you could use a pick me up, so why not reminisce on how competitive we all got with one another,” the boy smiled widely as he climbed out of the car leaving samy no other choice but to follow him.

jack quickly paid, handing samy her signature pink putter and ball. quinn always took dibs on green, jack got blue, leaving luke stuck with orange. he complained every time.

“i can’t believe we’re doing this. i haven’t done this in years,” samy hummed as she walked towards the first hole.

“this is gonna be fun. a little bonding between us,” jack nudged her arm and samy couldn’t help but agree.

she missed hanging out with jack because he always seemed to have something else going on. plus, this would get her mind off of things for at least an hour.

“whoever wins buys the other ice cream,” the older hughes sibling determined as he set his ball up first.

“i hope you’re ready to pay for my ice cream then,” the girl grinned widely making her brother roll his eyes.

jack took his first swing marking the beginning of the very fierce competition. if there was one thing about the four siblings, it was that they were very competitive with one another. whether it be pool, wakeboarding off the boat, or simply seeing who could chug the most water in a minute, the four were always going at it over the summer. mini golf always got them going which was why the family hardly went with all of them anymore because of how heated it got.

one year, quinn pushed luke over one of the obstacles making the poor kid sprain his ankle. after that, going to mini golf was banned in the hughes household.

by the fourth hole, samy was close behind jack in strokes. the two carefully followed jack’s ball down the path where it landed five inches away from the hole.

“that was rigged!” jack exclaimed in annoyance.

“ha! if i get this in, i’m ahead of you!” samy exclaimed, going into position for her next putt.

jack held his breath as he watched samy’s ball roll right past his directly into the hole. the younger girl cheered while jack stomped away like a little kid.

“i’m winning! you have more strokes than me now!”

“you’re just cheating,” the older boy rolled his eyes.

“i am not! you literally watched that go in!” the younger brunette pushed jack to go take his last putt for the hole.

the two moved through the rest of the holes fairly quickly. by the ninth hole, samy was significantly in the lead and was most definitely gonna win.

“better get your wallet out, jack,” she winked before taking the putt.

her pink ball traveled through the windmills and around the hill as the siblings followed it down the path. it came out the other side of the cave just an inch away from the hole.

“shit! so close to a hole in one,” samy frowned, tapping the ball in.

“do i even need to putt?” jack huffed.

“be a team player,” the girl giggled, pushing her brother back to the start.

jack lined his putt up with the ball, going in for a swing. his blue ball took the same path as samy’s through the windmills, around the hill, and through the cave except his landed directly into the hole for a hole in one.

“holy shit! hole in one!” the boy jumped up and down in excitement.

“hey, good play,” samy clapped for him.

“you know, i’ll take that as the end. i may have not won, but at least i got a hole in one,” jack grinned as the two went back to the counter.

“good game. that was fun,” samy hummed as she set her putter and ball into the basket.

“i’m glad you had fun. that was my goal,” the older boy smiled and made his way to the ice cream stand.

jack got his usual of soft chocolate and vanilla while samy stuck with her strawberry in a dish. the two found a quiet spot at one of the farther tables away from the smaller kids running around.

“are you glad i dragged you out of bed now?” jack wondered.

“you know, yeah, i am. thank you. this was really fun. i felt like i was a kid again,” samy smiled some.

“we hate seeing you sad, so i figured some mini golf wouldn’t hurt. mom only agreed if it was only us though,” that made the two laugh.

“it’d be a shit show if we were all here,” the younger girl giggled.

“exactly. luke wouldn’t have survived again.”

a comfortable silence fell over the siblings. it was rare for samy and jack to be in silence without one another bickering about something stupid and quinn needing to mediate, so they took advantage of it.

“i got broken up with once when i was 16. do you remember that?” jack broke the silence. samy raised her eyebrow and shook her head.

“i guess maybe not. you were..probably 12. anyway, this girl i dated for a bit broke up with me before i started dev program. it actually really hurt,” the older boy’s gaze fell away from his sister’s as he thought about the memory.

“i’m sorry. that sucks,” the girl sympathized.

“yeah, it did suck. breakups suck in general. i’m sorry you’re going through one.”

samy shrugged some, “it’s fine, i guess. he made that choice and..it’s whatever.”

“he’s an asshole,” jack determined making samy snort.

“i think you, quinn, and luke think the same thing. it’s so weird because..i..i wanna be mad at him and i am. i’m really hurt, but also..i’m not if that makes sense? like i don’t think i could ever be mad at will no matter what,” the younger brunette met jack’s gaze again.

“i get it. he was your best friend. it’s hard to..be mad at people like that. i dunno..maybe time will change things? like..you guys just need some time apart?” the older boy shrugged.

“yeah, maybe. i don’t know. like i hate him, but i don’t. i love him, but i don’t. it’s confusing me,” samy sighed.

“give it like a month and see how you feel. the breakup’s still really fresh so the feelings you’re having may be different from the normal ones you have on a normal basis. let it kind of..sit with you and then reassess i’d say.”

“yeah, that makes sense. i just feel weird showing and feeling the emotion because growing up with you guys makes me not wanna do any of that,” the girl laughed a bit.

“hey, we’re always here for you to talk or anything. i mean you say the word and we’ll go knock on his door. i think luke really wants to,” the two shared a laugh.

“thanks, i appreciate it. you guys have been really good to me,” samy grinned.

“it’s what older brothers are for,” jack poked his sister’s arm making her squirm away from him.

the two finished up their ice cream before heading back to the car. samy’s head felt a bit lighter on the way back thanks to jack’s outing. she’d really have to thank her brothers one day for getting her through this because she’d probably be unable to move from her bed if it weren’t for them.

[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.

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭— 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐅

Note: Check Description and other chapters first to understand the story ^^♡

Chapter 8

WARNING!!!🔞 This Chapter contains SMUT: Unprotected sex, oral (f.recieving), morning sex, mention of kink and size (I think it's that?), strong language, pet names, multiple orgasms.

Minors do not interact!!!

Bang Chan

The day I met Aria when my father introduced us to eachother a week before our wedding, some instinct told me she will be the death of me.

And I was right.

With those soft curls, brown eyes, that small beauty mark on her chin which was unwantedly attractive to my eyes, she is going to be why I'll lose every sense of control I've had of myself.

Every part of me wanted to have her last night, to make feel like she is the one and every part of her drove me crazy. Because my mind was tipsy, I wouldn't have been able to worship her the way she deserved. But one day, which isn't so far, I will have her.

It's obvious Aria desires me the same way I do, but fuck, my mind is never straight when I'm around her. Maybe Hyunjin was right. I should try talking to her sober. Instead of like a fucking alcoholic.

Never in the 26 years of my life was I ever attracted to woman the way I was attracted to Aria. She held something, a magnetic pull in her voice and in every single thing about her. A part of me wants to get lost in my world with her, forgetting about any deadline of us.

I woke up before an hour before sunrise, sitting in front of my laptop, I worked until I heard the birds chirping outside my window. Which I think was the first time I ever heard them since I moved into the mansion last year.

I usually either wake up late or don't sleep at all, depending on what I do the night before but ever since my father brought up about the marriage topic and I got married to Aria, my mind has been focusing a lot on work than anything I used to do when I was in Europe.

I was never a workaholic back then, not even when I first got the COO position, I don't know what fucking alien took over my body.

"Once you bring her home, you will understand that life is more than just partying Christopher"

My father's words replayed in my head again, echoing through the morning silence. He was right, as much as I hate to admit it.

My mind drifted back to the day of our wedding. Despite the conversation about the agreement the two of us had the night before, Aria's face was swelled with happiness on the wedding day, a smile I remember like it's a photographic memory. It's now that I'm realizing, that the smile was masking the uncertainty she must have felt.

Maybe this new focus. This relentless drive to work, was a distraction from her, my way of providing for her, of ensuring that our future was secure, well, at least for a year. But still, the change was startling.

Back in Europe, my nights were filled with laughter, music, and the constant thrill of the unknown. My friends used to joke that I would never settle down, that I was a free spirit, untethered and wild.

Yet here I was, grounded and, dare I say it, domesticated.

I looked up at my calendar on my phone, I didn't have any plans today neither was I in the mood to go to the office after finishing half of the work at home itself, I thought to check up on Aria and see if she had any plans. I quickly freshened up, ruffling my hair, I left my room and walked to hers at the other end of the corridor.

Once I reached the door to her room, hesitation crawled but like Bin said,

"If you want to make it through the next 300 whatever days without losing your fucking mind, maybe try talking to her. Really talking."

I had lock my ego up in a cage and properly communicate with her.

As I was about to knock on the door, it swung open revealing a cutely sleep-rumpled Aria, tousled but fixed hair and pillow crease on her face.

It looked like was expecting me to be at work, she instantly covered her chest, seeing the view in front of her.

She was wearing just a silk camisole and boyshorts, that gave me a view of too much of her flawless skin. The top did barely to cover those sweet, peeking nipples.

My jaw tightened at the sight at the same time sending an electrifying shock straight to my cock. Was she roaming the mansion like this when I was at work?! Almost half-naked while my staff was around?

"Chris, oh my— what are you doing here?" She stammered, her hand over her chest and eyes wide with surprise. They fell on my bare torso first and then met my face earning sly smirk from me.

"I...um. I just thought to— check up on you—"

Fuck.

The words kept coming out of my mouth before I could process them in my brain but I managed to keep my gaze fixed on her face.

Aria's eyebrows drew together, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine." I replied quickly, cursing at myself that this was again, a bad idea.

She blinked, clearly taken aback. "I thought you were supposed to be at work." Her voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Took the day off," I said rubbing the back of my neck and sliding my other hand in the pocket of my shorts.

"I just," I swallowed, "I wanted to see you" I finally admitted.

"Oh," She was unaware of what to say next and so was I. The moment seemed to stretch like an eternity and I fucking hated it.

"Alright then," I turned to walk downstairs but her soft hand held my wrist stopping me. "Chris wait," Her brown eyes locked with mine, steady breathing but I knew she still felt slightly intimidated by me.

For a moment the two of us stood still without a movement. The next, before either of us could say anything, I cupped her face and crushed my lips against hers.

Roughly. Possessively.

She pulled me inside her room, her fingers pressing on my arms then sliding up my neck, I kicked the door shut behind me, fisting her hair and not breaking the kiss as we fell onto her bed.

My tongue stroked the seam of her lips, I grunted, tilting her neck, demanding entrance, this time not letting any damn thing interrupt what I was going to do.

No contract. No deadline. Just her. Just us.

Her hands sank into my hair as my palm swept beneath her little silk top. We kissed like we needed eachother before the world ended.

Frantic. Hungry. Desperate. But I couldn't get enough. I needed more of this. More of her.

I broke the kiss as I trailed my path down her neck, sucking on her sweet skin, leaving my marks and making her mine. Only mine. I didn't give a fuck about anything else at this moment other than her.

"Chris..." The sound of my name as she whimpered when I cupped her breast beneath the top sent another jolt of electricity straight down to my cock, it throbbed behind the barriers of my shorts.

"That's it sweetheart. After today my name shall be the only thing you remember" I said as I slid her top off and shorts down with little effort, leaving her completely naked and bare beneath me, it was the sight of a lifetime.

Flawless skin, breasts the right size to knead and suck on, perfect little waist, I eyed her body capturing every single detail like a wanderer discovering a hidden paradise.

I leaned low and kept my mouth around her nipple, sucking the sensitive tip and rolled the other with my index and thumb, earning another whimper of my name.

"You're such a good girl"

Neck. Arms. Breasts. Every part of her had a pleasing marks of hickeys, I was eager to map every inch of her heavenly body with my hands and my mouth as I made my way down kissing the valley of her stomach to her pubic bone.

Her soft skin was hot as she trembled when I got closer to her pussy, the scent of her arousal and the glazed sight in front of me felt like snorting a line of pure cocaine. I softly placed a kitten kiss on the awaiting clit, goosebumps pebbling her skin as I stroked her thighs.

"Chris, God Chris, please"

"Please what sweetheart?" I taunted.

"Are you that excited to have my mouth on your sweet cunt and eat you out?" I cooed. She looked up at me and her head fell back on the pillow when I licked her slit.

"Tell me babydoll"

Aria's breathing increased as her hand fisted my hair so hard, the tiny ache just turned me on more.

"Yes," The word left her mouth in a plea mixed with a demand. "Please Chris"

The next second my face was buried in the wet heat between her legs.

Her back arched instantly as her juices coated my tongue, I delved on her clit like a man starving to death. Sucking and devouring her cries of pleasure as my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

Where I thought her presence drove me insane along with whiskey that had me tipsy, Aria's moans and her taste down here were fucking intoxicating. My cock twitched, matching the rhythm of my pulse, begging for me to dive into her.

Aria bucked her hips, pleading to stop, but her body begged to keep going, moan after moan escaping from her throat. Slow licks and flicks, I focused on her dripping cunt, a twelve course meal I'd enjoy for the rest of my life.

"No...please...I...more..." Aria pleaded and begged, coating my face by every passing second. I wanted all of this inked on my brain.

Her back arched as I continued to feast on her sweet little pussy. I sucked on her clit and pushed a finger stretching her lips, then another, pumping in and out, her knuckles turned white as she grabbed on to the sheets for dear life.

Forget coffee, water or a great buffet for breakfast, she tasted so much fucking better.

I groaned, sweat beading my forehead as I pulled my fingers out and I rested her legs on my shoulders, fiercly holding on her thighs, letting my tongue thrust inside of her. The taste of her made me want to do nothing but stay here and let this morning last forever.

My nose kept nudging on her clit as I ruthlessly tongue fucked her, eating her out, that tore sharp cry after cry. After feasting on her cunt, Aria came down shuddering, her orgasm flooding my senses and my face as I was sent to the ends of insanity.

"Want me to stop sweetheart?" I towered her, wiping my chin with back of hand, her taste still lingering on my tongue. I placed my hand next to her on the pillow holding me up, the other hand pinched her nipple and then went down circling that swollen nub.

I knew she wanted more. But I loved hearing it. Making her beg.

Aria shook her head whimpering, her face was tinted pink as her cheeks were flushed with arousal, my mind clouded with lust. My cock was so hard it threatened to pierce through my shorts.

"You have to tell me babydoll."

"Don't stop Chris, please"

Nothing turns me on more than the sound her sweet voice pleading me. I freed myself from the fabrics of my shorts and boxers, they joined her clothes on the floor. Her chest was still heaving from the aftermath of her first orgasm. Oh baby she's going to come more than once.

"You will come for me again okay?" My voice remained rough even though I tried to soften, I traced her pussy with the pad of my thumb and sank two fingers again to find her still soaking.

So wet. So fucking gorgeous.

Her eyes fell on my coated fingers as I pulled them out and licked the glistening pleasure, then at my cock jutting out, long and painfully hard, when she slowly got from up her high.

I leaned down to her ear, "I'm going to make you feel really good baby"

I spread her legs further apart and positioned myself in between, grazing the tip in the inner thigh and the folds of her opening, teasing her a bit more.

"Christopher,"

Never has my name sounded this good when someone said it. I felt a different sense of pride and possessiveness when it came out of her mouth. In that voice.

The tip was still slowly grazing her opening, she was so wet, it kept slipping. I was testing my own patience along with hers, without another thought I gripped her waist, Aria's head fell back on the pillows the second I thrusted through her wet entrance smoothly.

Her legs instantly wrapped around my hips locking me into place, it was now I knew I have found my heaven on earth.

"Too— big...ah" I couldn't help but chuckle at the way she moaned and commented about my size.

"But you take it so well baby" I teased.

A muffled moan.

I stayed in place for a few seconds, letting her adjust to my length and slowly pulled out and then slammed back in.

Starting slowly and easy first, then I picked up a hard and fast pace, pounding into her, each thrust making her breasts bounce. Sweat slicked her body, her eyes and mouth were half shut as she kept moaning, it was the sweetest sound to my ears.

Christ. I've never had a kink for breasts but her tits alone were enough to drive me mad. And this sweet tight little pussy that took in my cock like she was fucking made for it.

Nails grooved scars on my back and my arms, the piercing sting felt good more than pain. She was so tight, her walls clenched nicely around my cock, it drove me out of my mind.

I slowly leaned to her face and kissed away the tears that had run down her cheeks, Aria slowly peeled her eyes open as she looked at me, they were fogged with intense pleasure and unshed tears glittering like a sparkling galaxy.

She looked at me in a way no one ever has, it fucking hurt like a punch to the soul, leaving me breathless and reeling. My mouth crashed onto hers desperately, a tidal wave possessiveness washing over me frantically.

"Mmm" She hummed into my mouth, I chuckled swiping a strand of hair from her face.

"What do you want sweetheart?"

"More— more" And that undid me.

Her pussy squeezed my cock as I fucked her harder and faster, watching her back arch and bouncing breasts, the dirtiest symphonies of moans filling the room. Seeing her take in my cock this gorgeously was a sight I want to keep seeing for the rest of my life.

"Fuck...Aria..." I hissed, her walls pulsated, I was at the edge and if I didn't release I would literally explode right here.

She looked so fucking gorgeous beneath me, I could have believed she was unreal.

No part of my skin goes untouched and no part of hers goes unfucked. I held her pretty waist beneath my palms, picking my pace, sucking on her sweet nipples, her moans and whimpers and cries sounded MUCH better than the melodic sounds from the strings of my guitar.

"Chris, I— I..." Aria moaned.

"You will sweetheart"

Molten lava dripped down my spine as I hit her G spot, her back arched, giving me the once again perfect view of her beautiful chest.

"Come," Before the word fully left my mouth she came all over my cock in a harmonious cry, flooding my cock with her juices.

I let her settle for a few seconds but then kept fucking her until another orgasm chased the first, and another, she shattered apart falling into a glorious limp of a mess and in that moment I was grateful to be alive.

After what was her fourth time coming, a few seconds later I came inside of her in a powerful orgasm that felt like a volcanic eruption, thunder roaring in my chest.

Never had sex felt so good like this.

There was sweet love making and rough hard fucking and definitely many more. But this? This felt like it was a route to find peace and but at the same time, a route to insanity.

I slowly pulled myself out, in taking the sight of her wrecked wet pussy and kissed her inner thigh making my way upto her face and fell next to her. The both of us starting the day in a very Good Morning.

"Goodness Chris I...," I chuckled at her breathless response and turned to her, placing a kiss on her forehead and pulled her into my chest in a tight embrace.

I had surely pushed her beyond her limits after making her come so much, I held her tight, wrapping her with my warmth.

I've had my time back in Europe with other women, but I cuddles after sex wasn't my thing. It was way too intimate and I couldn't get myself lost in that. And I had my rules when fucking.

Don't look at me in the eyes. Don't expect aftercare or whatever. Simple.

But Aria. Damn it. She is the reason why the icy barriers I built around my heart is threatening to crack.

"How do you feel sweetheart?" I asked, her lips met the soft skin on my neck causing me to inhale a deep breath.

"Amazing" Her eyes closed, my hand glided up from her ass to her waist, my grip tightening.

"Is this why you took your day off?" She asked mischievously, I let out a deep chuckle, my grin widening.

"Maybe. Since I'm always having trouble getting you," I pulled her, her chest pressed against my chest, "I had enough of it"

"I see. Well, I didn't know Bang Christopher Chan desired so much"

"You don't know how crazy you drive me" I said pressing my mouth on hers hard and demanding. She melted against me as I kissed her, never getting tired of her taste.

We remained in each other's embrace for a while before I glanced at the clock on the wall, it was almost 9am, I slowly removed my arm from under her neck and sat up on the bed, the sheets rumpled around my waist.

She got up as well, an expression painting across her face, worrying if I might leave after having my time. Honestly I did want to leave now that I fucked her but somehow something made me stay with her.

I leaned in and smiled at her, kissing the corner of her lips.

"You've plans for today?" I don't know why, but I wanted to spend some time with her, my friends' advices still replayed in my head every now and then. She shook her head, looking at me, curiosity filled in her eyes.

"Good. I have a nice spot we can go to"

I'm definitely getting myself locked in a complicated cage, mixing sex when we have an expiration date.

But when time comes, I'll deal with it then.

------------------------

Taglist: @bowsnbang @bangchannie97lov @hwasmints @laurenalpha123

If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know <3

Thank you for reading!

xx,Ivyy

Next Chapter

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Canvas of imagination (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: On the eve of Rhaenyra's wedding, Daemon decides the best gift he can give to the father of the bride is a dreamer. A shame said dreamer does not seem to share the joy of the occasion.

Warnings: Kidnapping. Period typical misogyny. Violence. Unflattering depiction of characters (You might hate me for this)

A/N: Remember please, Daemon is an unreliable narrator. Here is where things start to get dark. I researched genetics for this and ended up really insecure. Read the previous part here.

There are many ways of silencing women. Murder is, of course, one. It’s not an elegant solution, but it is an effective one. It ensures the victim takes her secrets to the grave. Daemon likes to think himself more elegant than that.

There is, too, the possibility of a ruined reputation. But that strategy is one that is only effective towards women of a certain standing. You can hardly ruin what are already damaged goods, and a bastard certainly counts as damaged goods.

Daemon still could chuck you off Caraxes mid-flight. Yet, it does not seem like a good idea, either. Each one of your servants saw you get chained to his saddle. Not even Viserys’s intervention could save him from the angry mob of commoners that would await his return to the Vale.

Besides, he likes you there, mounted on his dragon. For once, quiet, too scared of screaming and disturbing Caraxes. Daemon likes the lack of noise, but he likes your presence much more. It would be foolish to silence a dreamer forever.

You need other kinds of chains. To tie you to him. Silencing you, when he does not want to hear. One often used for Targaryen women.

Marriage. A Bronze Bitch for another. But not exactly, is it? Not if you can truly see the future.

Perhaps this was meant to happen, then. As a way of honoring his ancestors. Grabbing a pretty maid, one with Valyrian gifts and…

Well. Children are another kind of chain, right? He is still not sold on the perks of bedding you. You are wrong. Too dark, too different. Nothing like Rhaenyra, and slightly older than her. But Daemon knows the children you will birth him will be strong. The gift on you is, after all.

To be able to look so far into the future speaks of a power unseen before. Targaryens have not been blessed by many dreamers in the last generations, and the few times they were, their gifts were fickle and weak. Not far enough to allow them to see further than days. The last time someone was able to look further was in the age of Aegon the Conqueror.

It must mean Valyrian descent. Nothing else is an acceptable answer. Even if you don’t look it.

Daemon mounts behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You feel soft in his arms. Perhaps bedding you will not be as bad. He had been afraid that you would be like Rhea. Those inquisitive eyes of her, the body as hard as the body of any man. They were not features he enjoyed on a female partner. It always turned him off.

It was not that he had refused to consummate the marriage. He wasn’t able to bed her, the awful bitch. Not only were her features off-putting, but her attitude. She was constantly trying to sit on his hips, push him down, and he couldn’t stand it. Daemon felt trapped. Emasculated.

He had to chase the shame, the powerlessness away, somehow. That was how he got started fucking whores, collecting maidenheads. It was much better when women were maidens. Easier. He likes the contrasts, Daemon has realized. Half women, half children are always more entertaining to play with.

You are not Rhea. You feel different in his arms. Your body is soft, all sweet limbs. There are no harsh muscles on your arms, and you smell like fresh baked pastries. Rhea always smelled of horse.

You are a girl, not a warrior like your sister was. Yet, you share her wild spirit. All the delicious curves of womanhood are already formed, a delicious pair of tits and hips that could drive any man to insanity.

Your parentage is a bit more undesirable, though. As the daughter of a whore, your innocence could be sullied. Daemon would have to ask if you were passed around when younger. He doubted it, but just in case. If you had not, bedding you would be the most fun he had in years. Open-minded, hot-blooded, but pure. It was not often you found that in a woman.

You try to squirm, but are too well bound. Getting too comfortable for his liking.

“Soves. ” He orders. Caraxes obeys. You shriek in terror, and Daemon hugs you harder against him. That, too, he likes. The helplessness, the honest reaction of someone who was denied her birthright. The amazement, once you settle down and notice that Caraxes will not drop you.

Riding Caraxes is always a thrill. It’s even more thrilling when he has a captive audience. There is something about it that does it for him. Showing others the might of true Targaryens always makes him proud.

He wants to show you all the things you have missed, being born of a whore and a Royce. It’s clear you don’t belong here, among the bronze piles of the Vale. You belong with him, on dragonback. And no one is taking you away from him.

The servants, your servants, according to the Bronze Bitch’s will, can only watch as the dragon rises in the air. No one dares deny Targaryens anything, not when faced with the truth of their strength.

Daemon perches his chin right on top of your head, so close his chest is flush with your back. Your screams do not bother him. You might be terrified, after a life spent living on the ground. But Targaryens are born to be in the skies. You will get used to it.

“Oh, Lady Cuffs, you have much to learn.” He kisses your temple, once you have screamed your throat raw and finally quieted down.

The first time he had ridden Caraxes, Daemon had, too, screamed until his voice gave. He had thought back then, like many Targaryens did, that if his egg didn’t hatch, he would get no dragon. The moment is clear in his memory. Heart beating loud in his chest, screaming commands in High Valyrian, and the absolute certainty that Caraxes was going to burn him to a crisp. Then, as he came down from sheer terror to amazement, he understood why his egg didn’t hatch.

It was a lesson. To take what he wanted, what was his by right. Targaryens were conquerors, not whiny children. It was what had got him thinking about Lady Laena, in the first place. The amount of confidence one needed to claim a dragon that big, it spoke of a power within.

Not as yours was, of course. You may lack the confidence, but you had power in spades. Dreamers were often like that. Or they were supposed to be, according to his studies. Daenys had been. A fragile little thing, scared of shadows and set on leaving Valyria behind. It had been what saved them, in the end.

Daemon wonders what it must be like to be haunted by terrors in your sleep. Some real, some imagined. How could one possible tell the difference between the two? It would lead a fragile mind to insanity.

What had it done to you? Seeing your sister’s death, thinking it a nightmare, and then watch it come to life in front of your eyes?

Fear. Horror. A cornered animal reaction, wanting to fight an opponent that could crush you like a bug if he so wished. Your loyalty to Rhea was commendable, though.

The thought of you having to go through that makes him uncomfortable. Something about the death of a sibling upsets him. Viserys. Oh, Viserys. Can’t live with him, but can’t live without him, either.

No. He needs a distraction. He is not willing to go down that road now.

“Dracarys!” Daemon screams, fighting to project his voice over the wind. As expected, you flinch and let out a tiny scream. He hides his smirk in your hair. He wonders if you would squeal like that when he took you.

A bit of fear makes for a better fuck. Lovers tend to turn pliant in the face of pain. Women's cunts flutter delightfully when choked. And you are already so responsive.

“This cannot be happening.” You mutter, under your breath. Your voice sounds small and confused. Lost. “This defies all the laws.”

“Targaryens have married sisters before,” Daemon speaks over your ear. Despite knowing that's not how dreamers work, he can't help but taunt you. It's amusing to him, how you struggle and huff. “You must have seen this already. You will make a good wife, in time.”

“I am not a dreamer!” You scream, and if he could see your face now, he would bet you are scowling. It matters not, really. Whatever you say. You would do anything to get him to let you go.

Daemon knows the truth. He has done his investigation about you. It would be no good, if he were mistaken and presented Viserys with something less. His good gesture would be ruined.

You would earn him his forgiveness. Daemon is willing to share you with Viserys, if that's what Viserys wants. He wants to keep you, so Daemon wouldn't gift you to him. But share you? It's a good gesture to show the honesty of his words.

Let it not be said that Daemon Targaryen is not humble in victory.

“Deny it all you want.” Daemon turns a finger over the middle of your back, making you shiver and try to move away from the touch. Oh, such a fierce spirit. A shame it's wasted, with how well you are tied to the saddle. “You have some Valyrian blood in you.”

“I do not!” You scream, and tilt your head to the side to glare at him. You have pretty eyes and the most enchanting nose. Closer to a goddess than a woman. How can you not be a Targaryen?

Your hair is the wrong shade. So are your eyes. But most of the time, First Men features overpower Targaryen ones. Dammed your father. Useless rat, that Yohn Royce. But at least he had given him you.

“You will birth me silver haired babes.” Daemon can do the math. With you being half Valyrian, the odds of you giving him what he wants are higher. He places his hand on your stomach, sneaking it behind the apron and touching the soft linen dress you wear.

Daemon imagines what it will be like, to see you swell with his child. The skin over your womb is warm and soft. You are young, closer to Rhaenyra's age than his. You look healthy and strong. A good environment for a child to grow in. And by the look of your bosom, you would produce good milk, too.

The thought makes him suddenly hungry. His cock twitches in interest. Ah. Good to know that your coloring won’t bring forth the same performance issues Rhea’s had.

This time, you squirm harder. Your ass rolls against his hips. Daemon rolls his hips against you, delighting in the friction. "Oh, you temptress.” He laughs.

He can't wait to have you, pinned under him and forcing you to take and take until his seed breeds true. How you would struggle, hips trying to escape him before surrendering to the sheer pleasure of it all.

“You are disgusting!” You buck against him, all wild mare. You have yet to be mounted and it shows. He bets once he does, you will be all sweet. Daemon is not cruel enough to deny you the pleasure. But you seem upset, and so he tries to reassure you.

“Just think, how strong, how true our children will be. With the blood of Old Valyria, flowing through their veins.”

It seems like the thought is not as reassuring for you as it is for him, since you start tearing up. He will have to tread more carefully. It’s clear your time with the Bronze Bitch has affected you. Perhaps, too, growing up in a whore’s house. You must have some strange ideas of women not needing marriage, or men, to lead their lives.

It was good, that Rhea got you when she had. You could have been sold or auctioned like any other woman. Taken up the profession of your mother. But you hadn’t. He knows it by the way you flinch, when he trails his hands over your ribs, when he presses his lips to your temple. Whores are used to touches like those. They melt into them. Not you.

“I’m not Valyrian!” You scream, trashing. Daemon smooths your hair down, tenderly. Perhaps this will soften you, he thinks. Many bastards share the longing for learning about their origins, after all. You should be no different.

“Your mother was, though.”

“What? No, she wasn't!” Your shrill tone makes him flinch. Gods, what a pair of lungs you have. And you are so set on disguising your origins, too. As if Daemon can’t tell. As if he can’t recognize one of his own when he sees them.

“I asked the servants about you.” He squeezes your shoulder, trying to sound encouraging. He wonders what it must be like, to carry so deep a shame you are set on denying the obvious. If Daemon had been born of a whore, without his Targaryen blood, he would be ashamed too. “They said you bathed every day. Only whores do that. And you don’t keep male company.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Your voice comes out high and questioning, confused. Oh, his poor, sheltered girl. Thinking your behavior was normal.

“You must have learned it somewhere.” He brushes his thumb against the shell of your ear. It’s a tiny thing, and soft. You give a sweet shiver, and it confirms his suspicions. You have not been touched in such a way before. Not a whore. Only the daughter of one. "Your father was said to frequent a brothel in King’s Landing, one that I’m well acquainted with. They only have Valyrian stock.”

You splutter, and whip your head to the side. You are not allowed much movement, with your binds. But gods, you try. The sliver of your face he can see is twisted in righteous anger. Similar to when he confessed to finishing the Bronze Bitch.

“Stock? How can you refer to women like that!” And it comes out so righteous, so fierce. His little warrior. Yes, it’s clear he is right about your origins. No one else would launch themselves in such a passionate defense of whores. A shame, he can’t seem to resist to riling you up.

“Oh, I have much lovelier names for women. I called your sister the Bronze Bitch.”

You let out a fierce little scream, now bucking and twisting and shifting, trying to get any kind of retribution for the slight. What a joy you must be in the sheets, all that unbridled force and passion, turning into a single objective. You just have to learn to aim it right.

“Don’t you dare speak of her like that! She is the most…” And you choke up a sob, realizing that Rhea was, not is. You do not speak the words, curling into yourself like a scared child. Hurt and sad for the first time since he took you.

“Was.” Daemon says, very quietly, and this time he is unable to distract himself from the thought. Daemon thinks of Viserys, of how angry he would be were someone to hurt him. No matter if they had parted in anger, no matter if they had not spoken a word.

He hugs you to him. You fight him, at first, but then you are sobbing too hard, too panicked to do anything about it. He presses a kiss to your nape. Even in tears and sweaty with your efforts, you smell perfect. All sweet pure maiden.

Eventually, your body sags. Daemon wonders if you accepted your fate or merely fell asleep. He doesn’t ask. The rest of the ride is uneventful. You wake up, later on, squirming in your bounds before sagging in defeat. No more words are exchanged between the two of you.

Landing is quite the interesting experience. Lyonel Strong, wearing the Hand's brooch. Next to him, stands the Kingsguard and a couple of Citywatchs.

“Is that a serving girl?” Crispin, Chris, whatever his name is, asks. He must think himself so sly, muttering under his breath.

“You were vanished.” Lyonel deadpans, eyeing you with vague interest. You scowl at him and tug on your bonds, again. Admirable persistence.

“Ah, Lyonel.” He gets off the saddle and carefully unchains you from it, making sure that your hands remain bound. Daemon keeps a tight grip on the chain from your cuffs, as he pulls you down into his arms. You kick and scream. The Kingsguard look vaguely concerned, but the gold cloaks don't even blink. They had been his men a few years back. They are used to such things.

He is not getting any younger, Daemon realizes. With you, he might need to get a better training regime because he is winded from the struggle. It's almost thrilling. You will keep him on his toes.

Daemon addresses Lyonel once again, dragging you forward.

“Summon Viserys, would you? I have something to show him.”

Good thing it’s not Otto Hightower anymore, or else he would have been detained on the spot. Lyonel is slightly softer to him, too honor-bound to let his personal feelings get in the way.

“Another of your whores?” The man asks, face unchanged. He would look at ease were it not for the way he is pressing his lips together in a grim line. No doubt remembering the Mysaria episode.

You keep struggling, rubbing your poor wrists raw. Daemon will have to tend to that later.

“Help! Help! Please!” You plead to Lyonel, once he is close enough. His lips twitch. Ah, the Strongs. Always ready to jump in rescue of a fair maiden. Your cries seem to be weakening the resolve of the Hand, and Daemon can’t have that.

Daemon places a possessive arm over your hips, showing you off. The possessive gesture will distract Lyonel from his rescue attempt, he is sure. No one gets between a Prince and his lovers, willing or not.

“No, actually. This time, the Lady is still a maiden. Although she won’t be much longer.” He smirks.

You flinch, your whole body tensing under his grip. Lyonel looks torn. He can’t order Daemon to let go of you, as for all he knows, you are but a serving girl. If you were a Lady, what he is doing might mean war. No one here cares about commoners.

Surprisingly, your rescuer is another. The dornish knight, jumping in, without the bow of his commander or the Lord Hand.

“I’ll go get the King, Lord Hand.” Good gods, what were they teaching the dornish these days? Not an ounce of respect on that one. He was getting too cocky for Daemon’s liking. He might have unseated him, but he lacked manners.

Daemon glares at Lyonel. Lyonel glares right back. The Kingsguard square behind Lyonel, menacingly, but the City Watch remains undecided on the side. Daemon grips your cuffs harder.

Crispin, Chris, whatever, comes out again after a few minutes, with an aggravated looking Viserys. You start shrieking, again, and trying harder to escape. No one pays you any mind.

“I told you I didn’t want to see you again.” Viserys says, but his eyes crinkle. He has cooled down. Daemon lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He still has everything to play for. Forgiveness is on the way.

“I think she might earn my forgiveness.” He tugs at your cuffs, bringing you slightly forward. You scowl, fiercely. “A gift, brother.”

“You come to offer me a whore? You are insane. Or drunk. Or both.” Viserys arches an eyebrow, but takes a good look at you. Daemon can’t blame him for it. You are a pretty thing, young and healthy.

Despite someone who claims offense at being offered a whore, Viserys surely looks interested. He steps closer to him, trapping you between them both. It’s Viserys, in quite the bold move, who tilts your chin up with a finger. You snarl at him, bucking backwards and right into Daemon’s chest.

“Careful. She bites. Special breed, from the Vale. All bitches.” And it’s not even funny, but it makes Viserys laugh, and that’s all that matters to him. Viserys’s laughter prompts the rest of the sycophants knights to do so as well. Only Lyonel and the dornish man remain disapproving.

“I’m quite busy at the moment, brother.” Viserys steps back, giving Daemon a long look. Unable not to twist the knife because otherwise they wouldn’t be related, he adds. “I’m in the middle of planning a wedding.”

“Ah. Congratulations are in order, then. Think of this as a wedding gift to the father of the bride.” Daemon pushes you forward, and then, insistently, to kneel. You resist, impudent little thing that you are. He pushes harder, until you kneel in front of Viserys with a sullen expression. “What better omen for a marriage than a little dreamer?”

Viserys goes suddenly serious, the hint of a smile at his antics long gone. This time, when he looks at you, his eyes are much more searching. First, to your hair. Then, your eyes. Then, to his face, incredulous.

“If this is your idea of a joke, Daemon…”

Daemon gives him a look. He would not joke about it, knowing how much Viserys has longed to be connected to that side of their heritage. He never understood it. Dreams were a powerful tool, but could be hard to differentiate from just nightmares. And what had made them conquerors had not been dreams, but dragons. That had been the part that interested him.

They had talked, once, of sharing a woman. Back when they were much younger, much less troubled. He tried to let that shine in his eyes, too. This was not something he was keeping to himself, it was a gift to his brother. If Viserys asked, Daemon would say yes in a heartbeat. Anything to make him happier. To protect him. Your dreams might not get him another kingdom, but would help keep Viserys safe and secure Rhaenyra's claim.

The silence stretched. Then, Viserys, looking absolutely fascinated and dumbfounded, stepped aside.

“Inside the throne room. Anyone else, leave us!”

As the guards scrambled to obey, Daemon tugged you inside. Viserys entered the room first, and grabbed the chain, as Daemon made sure to close the door after them. Working together with a fluidity not seen since the days of their youth.

Daemon smiled. Not even a day in your company, and you were already fixing things in the way he had wanted you to.

Viserys let go of your chain, eyeing you with quite a bit of precaution. All for naught. Instead of attacking, you tried to flee. Daemon grabbed you, and spun you to face him.

“You say she is a dreamer.” Viserys sits down on the throne, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“She is. The bastard sister of my newly deceased wife.” Daemon can’t help but boast. He is proud of finding you. Of the smile that has formed on Viserys face. “You know how it was. Yohn Royce and his precious Silver Dragon.”

“Lady Rhea is dead?” Viserys frowns. Still, he doesn’t look too upset. Perhaps a bit angry, but Daemon knows he will forgive him for it. What is the murder of a woman no one loved to the acquisition of a dreamer?

“He killed her!” You scream, unable to help yourself. Ah. Curse him, he was mistaken. Someone loved the Bronze Bitch. But it didn’t count. You were her sister and she had rescued you from a brothel. You were morally obligated to. It didn’t count.

“Shut up, little girl. I didn’t.” Which, yes, he had, but it would be better to give Viserys plausible deniability. Safer that way.

“Yes, you did. I saw.” You grin at him, menacingly. Daemon arches an eyebrow. It seemed your nap had given you the energy to be defiant. Again. Good gods, you were like a child. Having to be put to bed, pacified, taken care of. On and on the list went. Daemon was not sure that he was ready for the responsibility of parenting a recently legitimized Targaryen. Your manners were atrocious, and you were so young and so soft.

Rhea had taught you nothing of use. Perhaps to read books and ride horses, but it was clear she hadn't hardened you as she was. You had no idea of politics or respect for your King. Soft. Sheltered. A blessing in disguise? Or a curse?

“That will be a problem, dreamer or not.” Viserys interrupts. It’s clear what he means. Daemon has to fix it. Because the Seven forbid Viserys is the one to get his hands dirty. He likes to believe he is above Daemon, in that sense. That he has some sort of morals that go beyond caring for Rhaenyra.

He has not. His tastes are the same as Daemon's. Fire and blood and all that came with it, but with the delusion of having some great sense of morality.

“Give her to me. The Bronze Bitch left her everything she had. I can keep the Vale and the little girl in line.” Daemon quickly says, ignoring your indignant yelp and trashing. “I’ll marry her.”

“Allow you to own a dreamer?” Viserys raises his brows, looking doubtful. “Don’t you think it’s too much? If she truly is one, of course…”

“Show him, Lady Cuffs.”

You remain in obstinate silence. Daemon feels the urge to scream. Clearly, the Royce genes ran strong because Seven Hells you were infuriating.

“Didn’t you say you could keep her in line?” Viserys taunts, amused. Oh, if Daemon could, he would spank your pretty arse red from that defiance. Little brat that you are, it would be a fitting punishment.

He can’t do much more, not without endangering you. Neither Viserys nor him are experts on dreamers. They have been oddities during the history of their house. Their lessons on them were far less detailed than on dragons.

The upkeeping and care of one would require research. But some things are clear from the start. Dreamers shouldn't be hurt. Or too traumatized. They might get nightmares, and that would make their powers wane.

Daemon needs to scare you into thinking he will hurt you, but not actually do it. How to scare you into compliance and punish you, but not hurt you? He looks at the Iron Throne, and suddenly, an idea sparks into his mind. You are, in many ways, a child. And a man is allowed to discipline his wife.

Daemon unsheathes his sword, making as much noise as possible. You flinch, clearly recognizing the sound. He bangs it against your vulnerable behind, making you jolt forward and yelp. Not only it must have hurt, but the sound echoed in the throne room. You turn to look at him over your shoulder, surprised and a little teary-eyed. Viserys smiles.

"Answer his question. Properly." Daemon orders. You look between him and Viserys, clearly unsure. He gives you a few moments, but when you are taking too long for his liking, Daemon raises his sword again. The words nearly tumble out in your haste to speak.

"I… Your wife. Aemma, she held on to you and begged you to not let them cut her. You held her down. Monster.” You say to Viserys, now openly crying. Daemon blinks. Now that was something he didn’t know.

Viserys’s anger at the “heir for a day” comment is suddenly framed in a new light. Guilt. The fool. Daemon would never do something like that to you. A dreamer is too valuable of an asset.

“Something more pleasant.” He orders, swinging the sword. You try to dance away from the hit, but you are unable to. You give another cry.

“You have a dagger. With Aegon’s dream. And the Lady Alicent visited you in your chambers, wearing one of her mother’s dresses, after Aemma passed.” This time, Daemon keeps a close eye on Viserys’s face, instead of you. His face is slack, jaw hanging open. Apparently, you are telling the truth. He wonders what other seedy secrets about him you know.

Daemon raises his sword, ready to hit your bottom again.

“That’s enough, Daemon. You proved your point. You can marry her.” Viserys says, voice shaky. He is clearly overcome by what you know and by the methods needed to extract the information from you. Viserys is about to give you to him. He has realized he will not be able to handle you.

Daemon doesn't mind. To be kept safe, every King needs someone willing to get their hands dirty. He has done much worse, and that was not even in the hopes of protecting Viserys and Rhaenyra.

“No, no, no…” You protest, pitifully. Your whole face is streaked with tears.

“Thank you, brother.” Daemon answers, smirking. Never has he felt more victorious. He gives another slap to your behind, this time with his hand. Viserys nearly smiles at your indignant shriek. “Oh, Lady Wife, no one asked for your opinion.”

[mononijikayu]

a red winter — ryomen sukuna.

The wind whispered through the cherry blossom trees, casting a delicate veil over the scene. Sukuna's heart, heavy with sorrow, echoed the mournful silence of the winter landscape. He had loved you more deeply than he could ever express, and now, in this moment of finality, he struggled to comprehend a world without your presence. He struggles to know what life truly is worth, if there is no you to give it meaning. He looks at you, defeated. 

GENRE: Heian Era to Shibuya Arc, 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Emotional Hurt, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining, Domesticity, Friends to Lovers, Character Death, Grief, Miscarriage, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Violence, Depiction of Harm, Depiction of Blood and Wounds, Depiction of Miscarriage, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Harm, Pseudo-Incest, Adoptive Cousins, Portrayal of Misogynist And Degrading Acts and Language, Smut, Detailed Depiction of Sex, Depiction of Sexual Foreplay, Sexual Penetration, Consensual Sex;

masterlist

ashes of love

song: a red winter by ahn ye eun

ko-fi

note: i quickly wrote this knowing ill be gone for a while due to my exams. i would like to say that i apologize that this is what im leaving you with for a week or two. but truly, i hope you forgive me. in any case, two more chapters!!! thank you for your support for ashes of love. i hope you love this chapter and i'll see you in the next one!!! i love you <3

YOU FELT EXHAUSTED. In the following months, you found yourself embroiled in relentless clashes against the usurpers of your son’s rightful lordship—the formidable Zenin and Kamo clans. Each battle drained you further, the weight of responsibility and the constant struggle wearing down your spirit. Despite your children's repeated insistence on joining you in battle, their youthful determination remained unwavering. They wanted to avenge their clan, their name, their father. 

However, you steadfastly refused, maintaining that a child should never be on the battlefield. Your son was just ten and seven, your daughter only shy of ten and two. You refused at each turn their determination to be in battle. And each time, the quarrels would tear you apart. But you would not let them win. Not at this moment. They were all you had. And you were damned that you would lose them too. 

Your heart ached at the thought of their innocence being tarnished by the brutality of war, their futures jeopardized by the unpredictability of combat. You had just lost your husband. To lose your children would drive you to a place you did not want to think of. You met their fervent appeals with gentle yet firm insistence, seeking to shield them from the harsh realities of the front lines.

You bid them farewell with a heavy heart, watching as the columns of men marched solemnly away from the Ryomen lands, their faces set in grim determination. Each step they took seemed to echo with the weight of impending doom, a silent acknowledgment that many among them would not return from the battle ahead.

Turning to look at your children, you saw the stark contrast in their reactions. Your son stood tall and stoic, his jaw clenched with a resolve that mirrored your own. His refusal to meet your gaze spoke volumes of the burden he carried, the unspoken fear of losing his father and the weight of inheriting a legacy of honor and duty.

Beside him, your daughter hesitated, her eyes betraying a mixture of fear and uncertainty. She searched your face for reassurance, her lips parting as if to speak but faltering before any words could escape. In her youthful innocence, she struggled to comprehend the gravity of the moment, torn between wanting to be brave for her family and the overwhelming fear of the unknown.

You sighed heavily, the weight of your responsibilities pressing down upon you like an oppressive cloak. You took a moment to memorize the sight of your children, their features etched with worry and determination. In their eyes, you saw reflections of your own struggles, the sacrifices made in the name of duty and the relentless march towards an uncertain future.

With a deep breath, you were helped atop your own horse, the sturdy beast beneath you a steady anchor amidst the tumult of emotions swirling within. As you urged your mount forward to join the departing ranks, you spared one last glance at your children, their figures growing smaller in the distance.

In that fleeting moment, you prayed silently for their safety, for the strength to endure the trials ahead, and for the hope that one day, they would understand the sacrifices made in the name of honor and duty. With resolve renewed, you rode forth to meet your fate alongside your comrades, the echoes of farewell lingering in the air like a solemn promise of return.

Amidst the chaos of battle, you led your forces with a heavy heart, consumed by concern for their safety. The clash of steel and the agonized cries of comrades-in-arms created a grim backdrop to your inner turmoil. As the carnage unfolded around you, you clung steadfastly to the belief that their lives were precious and must be preserved at all costs.

Your relentless bloodhounds tore through anyone who crossed their path, driven by your command. Meanwhile, your white flames scorched enemies one after another, fueled by the intense energy coursing through your bleeding wrists. Despite a blow to your face causing you to stagger, your purple eyes blazed with determination as you knelt, the blood mixing with your cursed energy.

With a fierce resolve, a naginata materialized in your palm, and you lunged forward with primal aggression, unleashing a ferocious attack upon your foes. The battlefield echoed with the clash of weapons and the cries of the fallen, but amidst it all, your unwavering determination to protect your comrades burned as brightly as the flames you wielded.

As you fought with a savage intensity, each swing of your naginata cut through the air with deadly precision. The battlefield seemed to bend to your will, as if your determination alone could reshape the outcome of the conflict. Your allies fought alongside you, their trust in your leadership unwavering despite the odds stacked against them.

Blood and sweat mingled on your brow as you pressed forward, the weight of responsibility heavy upon your shoulders. The battlefield was chaotic, bodies strewn across the ground, both friend and foe alike. Yet, through the haze of battle, you remained focused, your senses attuned to every movement and threat.

Amidst the frenzy, a sense of clarity emerged—a resolute belief that this war, no matter how prolonged or brutal, would not break your spirit. Your heart pounded in rhythm with the pulse of the conflict, each beat a testament to your unwavering commitment to those who fought beside you.

After what seemed like an eternity, the clash of steel finally subsided, leaving behind a haunting silence punctuated only by the groans of the wounded and the crackle of distant fires. The battlefield lay strewn with bodies and broken weapons, a grim testament to the ferocity of the conflict.

You stood amidst the aftermath, your chest heaving with exertion, and your naginata still in hand, its blade gleaming with blood under the harsh glare of the sun. The adrenaline that had fueled your relentless assault now slowly ebbed, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness that threatened to overwhelm you.

Surveying the scene, you felt a mix of emotions—relief that the immediate threat had been neutralized, sorrow for the lives lost, and a grim determination to press forward. Your thoughts turned to your comrades-in-arms, the survivors who now looked to you for guidance and strength. They bore the scars of battle, both physical and emotional, but their resolve remained unbroken.

Slowly, you began to organize the aftermath—tending to the wounded, accounting for the fallen, and preparing for the next phase of the campaign. Despite the toll it took on your spirit, you knew there was no time for rest or reflection. The war raged on, its relentless tide pulling you deeper into its grasp with each passing day.

As dusk settled over the battlefield, casting long shadows over the scene of carnage, you found a quiet moment to reflect. The faces of those you had lost haunted your thoughts, their sacrifices blossoming red with the thunder of war. Yet, amidst the sorrow, there was also a glimmer of hope—a steadfast belief that your efforts were not in vain, that each battle brought you one step closer to an end. 

With a weary sigh, you turned towards the horizon, where the first stars of evening began to twinkle in the darkening sky. The weight of responsibility sat heavy on your shoulders. You cannot quit now. You must continue. Even if this kills you. No matter what. You must continue. Whatever the costs.

The voice in your head laughed derisively, its mocking tone echoing in the recesses of your mind. "Foolish human," it sneered, "You cling to your frailty and stubborn pride. What honor is there in this futile struggle?"

You gritted your teeth, a surge of defiance rising within you. "There is honor in fighting for what is right," you retorted, your voice firm despite the tremors of doubt. "I would rather die in this struggle than any other way. At least here, I stand for something greater than myself."

The voice scoffed, its presence like a shadow looming over your thoughts. "Stubborn to the end," it taunted. "You will learn the futility of your resistance."

But you held fast to your convictions, refusing to let doubt cloud your resolve. "I will not yield," you declared, steeling yourself against the relentless assault of doubt and fear. "There is honor in the struggle, even if I do not emerge victorious."

As the voice faded into the background, its laughter turning hollow and distant, your lips pursed into a flat line. You sighed heavily, the weight of exhaustion settling deep within your bones as you leaned against the pillar of the wall. The ground around you was stained with blood, a stark reminder of the relentless cycle of battle that had defined your existence.

War had been your constant companion, an unyielding force that shaped every aspect of your life. It was a truth you had come to accept, yet one that weighed heavily on your heart. In moments like these, when the chaos subsided and the cries of conflict faded into silence, you allowed yourself a rare moment of reflection.

Gazing up at the sky, where a solitary heron glided gracefully against the canvas of deep blue, you couldn't help but yearn for something beyond the endless struggle. You wondered what it would be like to experience true freedom—to soar through the open skies without the burden of duty and battle pressing down upon you.

The heron's wings sliced through the air with effortless grace, a symbol of peace and serenity that felt so far removed from the harsh realities of your world. For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to imagine a life untouched by war—a life where the sky was not a backdrop to conflict but a boundless expanse of possibility and tranquility.

But as quickly as the thought came, it was replaced by the harsh reality of your circumstances. The war demanded your unwavering commitment, your sacrifice, and your strength. There was no escape from the responsibilities that tethered you to this life of strife.

With a heavy heart, you pushed yourself away from the wall and resumed your vigilance. The heron continued its graceful flight, disappearing into the distance, leaving you with a lingering sense of longing. As you turned your gaze back to the battlefield ahead, you steeled yourself once more for the challenges that lay ahead, knowing that true freedom would have to wait for another time, another life.

When you had gotten up, you had been given news from the other fronts of the battle. Mikoto Masaomi, a loyal ally, managed to defeat the Kamo, effectively knocking them out of the war. This victory brought a brief respite, but the Zenin still posed a significant threat. Leading your forces against the Zenin, you fought fiercely, yet the battle ended in a stalemate. The toll of constant conflict was evident, both in your body and spirit.

In a surprising turn, Ryomen Sukuna appeared on the battlefield, his presence as formidable as ever. He swiftly killed the Zenin lord, forcing their surrender. True to his word, Sukuna did not come to see you. He honored your wishes, even though the distance between you brought a pang of sorrow.

With the Zenin subdued, only the Gojo usurpers remained. But the exhaustion was too great. The relentless battles had taken their toll, forcing you to postpone the campaign against the Gojo clan usurpers. Gojo Seiryuu, desperate to reclaim his rightful place, begged you to allow him to lead the charge. 

Your return had been marred with his pondering. You could see your husband in him, through and through. His youthful fervor and determination were palpable, but you couldn’t bear the thought of him facing such danger. He was still a boy. And you didn’t want him to deal with this. Not yet. Not while you were still alive.

"Mother, please," Seiryuu implored, his voice filled with a mixture of desperation and resolve. "I need to do this. For our family, for our honor."

You shook your head, your heart heavy with worry. "No, my dear boy.  You must understandI cannot risk losing you too. You are the future of our clan. We will find another way."

His cerulean eyes, filled with the fire of youth, met yours with unwavering determination. "I am ready, mother. I can do this. I am a grown man. I must avenge my father. Please.”

Despite your resolve, the fear of losing him gnawed at you. The battles had already claimed too much, and the thought of sending your son into such peril was unbearable. "You don’t understand, dearest boy. This war has taken everything from us. I can’t let it take you too."

He reached out, taking your hand in his. "Then let me fight for us. For my father. For everything we’ve lost."

Tears welled in your eyes, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. "I will not lose you, my boy. We will find another way. I promise."

As you stood there, facing your son’s determination, the voice in your head whispered again, mocking your fears and doubts. “No, my son. I am sorry.”

He stared at you, hurt and disappointment etched in the lines of his cerulean eyes. His jaw tightened visibly, a silent testament to the emotions roiling within him. For a brief moment, you searched for the right words, a desperate attempt to bridge the gap that had suddenly formed between you.

But before you could speak, he nodded slowly, the motion deliberate and final. The hurt in his eyes deepened, a silent reproach that cut deeper than any words could. Without another glance, he turned abruptly and walked away, leaving you standing there, words unspoken and regrets hanging heavy in the air.

You reached out, a futile gesture towards his retreating figure, wanting to call him back, to explain, to mend what had been broken. But the moment slipped through your fingers like sand, leaving you with nothing but the echo of his footsteps fading into the distance.

As you stood there, grappling with the weight of his disappointment and the ache of your own remorse, you realized the gravity of your actions. The hurt you had caused weighed heavily on your heart, a bitter reminder of the consequences of words left unsaid and moments lost forever.

Masaomi had come to you, his usually composed demeanor overshadowed by urgency and concern. He stood before you, his voice carrying the weight of conviction as he advocated fervently for your son, Seiryuu. His words were measured yet impassioned, highlighting the young boy's potential, his dedication to the Ryomen clan, and the responsibilities that awaited him as the bearer of the six eyes.

"Hiromi-sama," Masaomi began, his voice carrying a mixture of respect and urgency, "Seiryuu-sama believes he is ready. And I must agree. He has grown into a man, and not just any man, but the heir of the Ryomen clan and the Gojo lineage. How will others perceive his mother fighting on his behalf?"

His words hung in the air, laden with unspoken implications. Masaomi's concern was palpable, his loyalty to both you and Seiryuu evident in every carefully chosen syllable. He stood before you, awaiting your response. But you don’t say anything. His lips pursed into a line.

"He has the potential to surpass even his predecessors, he already has." Masaomi continued, his gaze unwavering as he met your eyes. "But he needs a chance to prove himself. And your voice of support, my lady, is most important.”

“He is still a boy.” You whisper to him, your eyes tender with pain. “I do not wish to see him killed, Masaomi. He is all that is left of my husband.”

"He may be a boy but he is a boy who wants to lessen your burdens and avenge his father," Masaomi explained, his voice steady yet impassioned. “He may be your son, but he is your equal now. You cannot deny him.”

You purse your lips as your maternal instincts battling against the tide of his words."He’s still so young, Masaomi. I cannot send him into such danger."

Masaomi’s gaze softened with understanding, yet remained resolute. "He is lord Gojo now, my lady. You cannot shield him from the world of danger forever. Not even if you tried. Do not make him resent you for taking away his only chance to bring peace to his father in himself.”

His words struck a chord within you. You knew he was right. As much as you wanted to protect Seiryuu, you couldn't keep him from his destiny. Tears welled in your eyes as you voiced your deepest fears. He was right, you knew he was. But you could not help yourself. You could not help but stumble into fear one after another.

"I'm terrified, Masaomi. Of losing him, of my weakening body, of death creeping closer."

Masaomi stepped closer, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions. "You shouldn’t speak that way." he said softly, his hand reaching out to clasp yours. “We shall win, as we always have.”

“I do not deserve your loyalty.” You muttered under your breath. “What would my father say? What would my uncle say?” 

He shakes his head. “You have been more than what we could imagine, my lady. I doubt they will say anything but praise, my lady. You were their hope then, and you are our hope now.”

“You flatter me too easily.”

He shifts for a moment, giving you a soft smile. “It is all honest words, my lady.”

You sighed, your eyes shining brighter than before. “You must protect him. That is first and foremost your priority. You understand? Let him lead, but caution him, rein him in when he needs it. I cannot risk losing him too.”

Masaomi's expression softened with empathy as he listened to your whispered words. He bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment of your grief and the weight of your fears. He could see a weight lift from your shoulders when you said those words, when you finally let it all go — to finally let them share your burdens.

"I understand, Hiromi-sama," Masaomi replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "Seiryuu-sama's safety and future are paramount to us all. But he is determined, and with your guidance, he will navigate these challenges with the wisdom and strength that you have instilled in him. As your father has done for you.”

You nodded slowly, the ache in your heart palpable as memories of your husband and the burden of leadership mingled in your thoughts. "Very well, Masaomi," you said, your voice steadying with resolve. "Prepare him, but tread cautiously. His path must be chosen wisely."

Masaomi bowed deeply once more, a silent promise in his eyes to uphold your wishes and protect Seiryuu to the best of his ability. As he turns to leave, you call him with a tender tone. He turns his back and looks towards you once more. Your eyes lower for a moment. You do that a lot when you think. When you ponder about what to do. He knew that look too well.

“What do you ask of me again, my lady?”

A sad smile touched your lips. "I have a favor to ask of you."

Without hesitation, he replied, "I’m willing to give everything of myself to you. I always have. You know that.” He stops himself for a moment, looking at you. “My body is yours, my heart is yours, my mind, my soul—everything has been long surrendered, my lady. All you have to do is ask of it and I shall give it.”

You knew he would say that and you knew that he would never deny you anything. You smiled at him, walking towards him. “Then do not deny me this.”

“I would not dare, my lady.”

The decision to marry Masaomi was not taken lightly; it was a strategic move born out of necessity rather than desire. In the tumultuous landscape of ongoing conflicts and shifting alliances, stability and continuity were paramount for the Ryomen clan's survival. As the leader, you bore the weight of ensuring a secure future not only for yourself but for your son, Seiryuu, and the entire clan.

Masaomi had proven himself time and again as a loyal and capable ally. His unwavering support and dedication to the Ryomen clan had earned your trust. Despite the initial surprise and speculation from outsiders, you knew that marrying Masaomi was the best decision to safeguard your son's inheritance and protect the clan's interests.

The news of your marriage spread swiftly through the supernatural community, sparking whispers and speculation. Some questioned the motives behind the union, while others admired your pragmatism in securing the clan's future amidst the chaos of war. For you, it was a sacrifice of personal desires for the greater good, a testament to your resilience and commitment to the Ryomen legacy.

It wasn’t enough that he was your loyal servant. Your son needed a father figure, someone who would protect and guide him with the same fierce devotion you had. Mikoto Masaomi had readily agreed to the marriage, his loyalty unwavering. He had given his life to serve you, and now, he would live to serve and protect your son.

As you stood together, facing the uncertain future, you felt a strange sense of peace. Masaomi’s unwavering presence was a balm to your soul, a reminder that you were not alone in this battle. He would be there, by your side, to face whatever came next.

"I appreciate your dedication, Masaomi," you replied softly, meeting his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and resolve. "Seiryuu is everything to me. He's the last link to his father and our legacy. I trust you with his life as much as I trust you with mine."

Masaomi nodded solemnly, his expression unwavering. "I understand the weight of this responsibility, Hiromi-sama. I will not fail you or Seiryuu. You have my solemn vow."

A brief silence hung between you, filled with unspoken understanding and the weight of the decisions that had led to this moment. You knew the challenges ahead would be daunting, but with Masaomi by your side, you felt a flicker of hope that the Ryomen clan could endure against all odds.

In the midst of the escalating conflict, Masaomi had taken your son with him to quell the resistance from the allies of the usurpers. His mission extended to launching an offensive against the Gojo holdings to decisively eliminate the threat posed by the usurpers. Left behind in the safety of your chambers, you sighed heavily, exhaustion etched into every line of your face as you gently rubbed your swollen belly.

The news of your unexpected pregnancy had caught you off guard. Beyond your childbearing years at nearly forty-three, you had believed such a possibility to be remote, if not impossible. Yet here you were, carrying a child conceived against the odds. The strain on your body was undeniable; each passing day seemed to amplify the weariness that settled deep within your bones. With each movement, you felt the weight of your age and the physical toll of pregnancy, a reminder of the fragility of life even amidst the tumult of war. 

And you feared the worst. Most women your age do not survive childbirth. Women even younger than you do not survive it either. There was no security.Even with your previous pregnancies, you have had a hard time. Masaomi had been horrified that such had happened, he had borne guilt over the matter but you had reassured him that you would be fine. He does not yet wish to leave for battle. Not until you had the babe. But you would not stall him. Not when this war longs to be finished and won.

As you sat in the quiet of your chamber, contemplating the risks and uncertainties that loomed ahead, Masaomi entered with a solemn expression, his worry palpable in the furrow of his brow. He approached you with a gentle but concerned gaze, his hands clasped tightly together in a display of internal conflict.

"Are you sure about this, my lady?" Masaomi's voice was soft, tinged with anxiety. "You know the dangers. We've lost so many, and I cannot bear the thought..."

You met his gaze with a calm resolve, though your own fears echoed silently within. "I know the risks, Masaomi. We've faced them before," you replied, your voice steady despite the weight of your words. "I've survived this before, and I believe I can do it again. Our child deserves a chance at life, just as much as we do."

Masaomi's eyes softened with affection and concern as he reached out to gently stroke your cheek. "You are strong, my lady," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "But it pains me to see you endure such hardships."

"It's a burden we both bear," you whispered, leaning into his touch. "But we must see this war through to its end. I won't hold you back."

He shook his head slightly, his expression conflicted. "I can't bear to leave you like this."

A small smile touched your lips, filled with reassurance and determination. "You must go, Masaomi. Our people need you," you urged gently. "We will face whatever comes together, as we always have."

Masaomi exhaled heavily, torn between duty and his desire to protect you. Finally, with a nod of reluctant acceptance, he straightened his posture. "I will stay until the child is born," he declared quietly, his resolve firm. "Then I will go, and we will end this war, once and for all."

“You must not.” You tell him, shaking your head. “Finish the war as soon as possible. There will be time to meet the babe after.”

“But my lady—”

“I shan’t change my mind.” You whisper back to him, your hand rubbing the center of your belly. “Your heir may wait.”

He will not win against you. Not a mere consort. He purses his lips. He slowly nodded. “Very well, my lady.”

“There is another I must leave to you,” You tell him. “Just in case.”

“What is it, my lady?”

"Should I die, Sukuna will try and lay claim to the Ryomen's power," you say, your voice steady but filled with resolve. "He has the name, the legitimacy equal to mine. None can stand against him."

Masaomi's eyes widen with shock. "But, my lady, to let the Ryomen name die... It's unthinkable. The Mikoto were a lowly house. To supersede the Ryomen...”

You cut him off, your tone firm. "It does not matter. My children will understand my will, and so must you. This is the only way to ensure their safety and the future of our clan."

Masaomi's expression is conflicted. "But, my lady, the burden... It is too great. The legacy of the Ryomen cannot simply be passed on like a mere title."

You meet his gaze, unyielding. "I leave you with the duty of caring for the clan. It is better that way because you are the one I trust the most."

He shakes his head, still grappling with your decision. "My lady, this is too much. The Mikoto name... it cannot bear the weight of the Ryomen legacy."

A sad smile touches your lips. "It must. For the sake of my children, and for the future of our people. You are strong, Masaomi. You will carry this burden and protect them."

Masaomi's eyes glisten with unshed tears. "I... I will do as you wish, my lady. But I pray that you live long enough to see your children grow, to see this burden through yourself."

You nod, feeling the weight of his words and the sincerity behind them. "Thank you, Masaomi. I know you will do everything in your power to honor my wishes."

With a heavy heart, Masaomi bows his head. "I will, my lady. I promise you that."

As he leaves, you feel a sense of relief mixed with sorrow. He turns his head back and makes his way towards you. You shrugged, taking a moment to look at him. He lowers his eyes and turns to your belly. His hand touches the babe, letting himself feel the movement of the little one—as though he’s burning it into memory. Seiryuu turns from his horse as he watches you and his stepfather have a moment. He bows his head to you and rushes forward, commanding the men. Your husband sighs, taking his hand off. 

“Will you not change your mind?”

“No, I will not.” You tell him once again, smile on your face. “The past must die with me. And be born with this little one, a new world.”

“You should not say such things so easily, my lady.”

“You do not know what will happen. It is better to be prepared.”

"My lady, this is too great a burden for Mikoto. To bear such a name, to carry on such a legacy—"

You shake your head, cutting him off. "No more, Masaomi. I do not wish to hear any more. You have to leave soon for the campaign against the Gojo usurpers. This is my will, and you must honor it."

Reluctantly, he nods, understanding the gravity of your decision. "When I return, we shall continue this conversation."

A faint smile tugs at your lips. "Perhaps."

As Masaomi prepares to depart, you feel a mixture of relief and sorrow. The burden of leadership weighs heavily on your shoulders, but you find solace in the knowledge that Masaomi will carry on your legacy and protect your children. You watched until they disappeared into the distance. You felt your child kick your belly. You sighed, rubbing the spot so tenderly against your layers of silk.

“You will have quite the future.” You whispered to your babe.

You can only pray to the gods that you are right this time.

Even if you would not be a part of it for much too long.

YOU SCREAM AND SCREAM. In the stillness of that fateful night in 973, the plans of the Gojo usurpers unfolded like a dark shadow cast over the impending dawn of victory. The air was thick with tension, the flickering torches casting eerie glows on the faces of the conspirators as they huddled in clandestine meetings, their voices hushed but urgent.

The Gojo usurpers, their ambitions threatened by the advancing forces of Gojo loyalists, the Mikoto warriors, and the steadfast Ryomen allies, knew that their only chance lay in a desperate gambit. The decision was made with grim resolve—to strike directly at the heart of their adversaries' strength.

Their target was clear: you, the matriarch of the Gojo clan, and Masako, your daughter, the symbol of the clan's future. By eliminating you and seizing Masako, they aimed to cripple the Gojo's leadership and secure their own claims through blood ties. The marriage of Masako to one of their sons would not only validate their rule but also ensure a fragile semblance of legitimacy amidst the chaos of war.

Under the cover of darkness, their forces mobilized with stealth and determination. Armed with the cold resolve of desperate men facing inevitable defeat, they moved swiftly towards Hida, where you resided, unaware of the imminent danger that lurked just beyond the horizon.

The night echoed with the distant sounds of marching armies, the clinking of armor, and the whispered orders of commanders. Each footfall carried with it the weight of treachery and ambition, as the usurpers plotted to reshape the fate of the Gojo clan in a single, decisive strike.

As dawn approached, the air was heavy with anticipation and dread. The clash of loyalties and ambitions hung like a storm cloud over Hida, where the fate of generations would soon be decided amidst the chaos and uncertainty of war.

In the tumultuous darkness of that pivotal night, your body, already weakened by age and the strain of conflict, began to betray you. The onset of labor pains, sharp and unrelenting, signaled the beginning of a battle within yourself—one that mirrored the external turmoil besieging Hida. 

Surrounded by the distant clamor of warfare and the urgent incantations of sorcerers, you endured the excruciating waves of pain with a resolve born of necessity. The severity of your condition was undeniable, the bleeding relentless, yet your determination to bring life into the world burned fiercer than ever.

Amidst the chaos of battle encroaching upon Hida's walls, you gritted your teeth and pushed with all the strength you could muster. Each agonizing moment underscored the fragility of life amidst the brutality of war. The fear of failure, of succumbing to the machinations of the usurpers, spurred you on, driving you to defy the darkness that threatened to consume everything you held dear.

With each contraction, each cry of anguish mingling with the clash of swords and the roar of flames, you fought. And finally, in a breathless moment that seemed to suspend time itself, your efforts bore fruit—a daughter, fragile and yet a testament to resilience, was born into the chaos of that fateful night.

As you cradled the newborn in your arms, the weight of exhaustion and relief washed over you. The cries of battle continued outside, a stark reminder of the world awaiting her beyond the sanctity of your embrace. Yet, in that fleeting moment, amidst the turmoil and uncertainty, there existed a fragile hope—a new life to protect, to nurture, and to defend against the tumultuous currents of fate.

With your newborn daughter nestled against your chest, the world around you seemed to quiet, if only for a fleeting moment. Despite the relentless siege on Hida and the precariousness of your own health, a sense of profound peace settled within you as you gazed upon the fragile life you had brought into the world.

Outside, the battle raged on, its intensity echoing through the walls of the fortress. Sorcerers and warriors continued to fend off the relentless assault of the usurpers, their efforts a stark contrast to the fragile serenity within the birthing chamber.

Amidst the chaos, you felt a surge of gratitude for the loyal defenders risking their lives to safeguard your family and your home. Their unwavering commitment bolstered your resolve, reminding you of the stakes of this conflict—a battle not only for territory but for the very future of your lineage.

As you cradled your daughter, her small features a delicate reflection of hope amid adversity, thoughts of Masako and Seiryuu weighed heavily on your mind. They were out there, fighting not only for victory but for her future—a future shaped by the outcome of this night's struggle.

Despite the pain and exhaustion, a sense of determination coursed through you. You knew the battle was far from over. The usurpers' desperation had made them ruthless, but it had also exposed their vulnerabilities. This night would mark a turning point, one where courage and sacrifice would forge a path forward for your family and your people.

In the flickering light of torches and the distant glow of fires, you whispered promises to your newborn daughter, vows of protection and love that transcended the turmoil surrounding you. With each gentle stroke of your hand against her soft cheek, you silently vowed to defy the darkness that threatened to engulf your world.

With trembling hands, the weight of your newborn daughter felt both fragile and heavy against your chest. The urgent cries from outside the birthing chamber reminded you of the perilous situation unfolding around Hida. Each echo of battle brought a stark reality to your decision—a decision born of necessity and love.

Your most trusted servant, a woman whose loyalty and dedication had been unwavering through years of service, stepped forward with solemn reverence. Her eyes, usually steady and determined, reflected the gravity of your command. She understood the weight of your words, the urgency conveyed in your trembling voice.

"Milady," she murmured softly, her voice a gentle reassurance in the midst of chaos. "I will protect them with my life."

As you placed your daughter into her waiting arms, a surge of conflicting emotions washed over you—fear for their safety, relief at their imminent departure from the besieged fortress, and an overwhelming sense of maternal instinct driving you to ensure their survival.

The newborn daughter, swaddled in soft fabrics, stirred slightly in response to the change in environment, unaware of the danger that surrounded her. Her innocent presence contrasted sharply with the turmoil outside, a poignant reminder of the fragile balance between life and death in times of war.

With a final glance, you entrusted not just your daughter, but the future of your lineage, into the hands of your loyal servant. Her resolute expression mirrored your own determination, a shared understanding of the sacrifices demanded by duty and love.

"Go," you whispered again, your voice steadier this time despite the lingering ache of separation. "Protect them."

As she turned to leave, your gaze followed her retreating figure until she disappeared into the shadows of the fortress corridors. The weight of your decision settled heavily upon your shoulders, a burden borne out of necessity to ensure survival. They must outlive you. They must go on and live. As long as they were alive, you will be too.

As the chaos of battle drew nearer, the urgent shouts and clashes of swords reverberated through the walls of Hida fortress. Sorcerers and warriors fought fiercely, their spells and blades flashing in desperate attempts to fend off the relentless onslaught of the Gojo usurpers. The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and the metallic tang of blood, a stark reminder of the brutal reality of war.

Despite the turmoil outside, you lay back in the dimly lit chamber, your strength waning but your resolve unwavering. Every labored breath carried the weight of exhaustion and pain, yet amidst the physical torment, your thoughts were consumed by the safety of your daughters. With each passing moment, the sounds of battle seemed to grow louder, a grim testament to the escalating violence that threatened to engulf everything you held dear.

The loyal servant hurriedly gathered Masako, your eldest daughter, and the newborn infant, her movements swift and determined in the face of imminent danger. The newborn's soft cries mingled with the chaos outside, a fragile testament to new life amidst the brutality of conflict. As the servant prepared to depart with your precious daughters, you knew that this moment marked a pivotal sacrifice—an act of maternal love that demanded separation to ensure their survival.

With a final, tender glance at Masako and the newborn, the servant disappeared into the darkness of the fortress corridors, her figure silhouetted against the flickering torchlight. In that fleeting moment, you whispered a prayer, a fervent plea to whatever powers might listen, that they would find safety beyond the walls of Hida.

Alone in the dim chamber, surrounded by the echoes of battle and the fading light, you closed your eyes, your heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty. Despite the weariness that threatened to overtake you, a flicker of hope burned bright—a fragile ember of belief that your sacrifices would not be in vain. With every ounce of strength, you clung to the belief that the combined forces of Gojo loyalists, the Mikoto, and the Ryomen would prevail, ensuring a future where peace and justice could once again reign.

In the quiet solitude of the birthing chamber, amidst the turmoil of war, you surrendered to exhaustion, your mind drifting between the realms of consciousness and dreams. With each passing moment, you held onto the hope that your daughters would find refuge, that they would grow to see a world where their mother's sacrifice had secured their future.

You let the tears pour from your face freely.

You made your peace with life and death.

You slowly sat up from the childbed and sighed.

“There must be an end, there must be.”

YOU COULD FEEL YOUR BODY TEAR ITSELF APART. Amidst the chaos of battle, blood seeped from your body in a steady, unnerving flow as you navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the Ryomen Manor. Each step was a struggle against the onslaught of childbirth, tearing through you with relentless force. The pain was an unyielding companion, a relentless torrent that threatened to consume every ounce of strength you possessed.

Blades clashed and cursed energies crackled around you, a symphony of violence that echoed through the once serene halls. Each encounter reverberated with desperate cries and anguished screams, the sound of battle and suffering intertwined in a cacophony that filled the air. Fear, raw and palpable, hung heavy like a shroud, mingling with the acrid scent of smoke and the coppery taste of blood.

In the midst of it all, your senses heightened to a fever pitch. Every sensation—fear, pain, anger, grief—merged into a maelstrom of emotions that threatened to overwhelm. Even as your own body numbed from the relentless onslaught, you remained keenly aware of the turmoil around you. The urgency to escape, to ensure the safety of your newborn daughter and Masako, drove you forward despite the physical agony and the impending danger that lurked around every corner.

The world beyond the inner chambers of the manor beckoned—a world where hope for survival flickered like a fragile flame in the storm of battle. With each faltering step, you pressed onward, your determination fuelled by a mother's instinct to protect her children at any cost. Every heartbeat, every labored breath, a surge of blossoming climax to war’s games.

At any moment, you were sure that your body would collapse. But that did not matter. You looked to the blood blow you. Your eyes fluttered, trying to keep awake. This would be enough. Enough blood. You stand in position, as straight as you possibly could and raise your hands near you. You took a deep breath as  your hands spread out in front, with thumb and index finger touching. 

“The seal of the ring of the Sun, Moon, and Earth.” You muttered under your breath as your body surges with cursed energy. “The gates of heaven, the battles of Bishamon, the naginata to blow….domain expansion! Heavenly Subjugation!”

As you uttered the incantation, the air crackled with tension, charged with the intensity of ancient powers coursing through your veins. The seal of the Sun, Moon, and Earth manifested upon your flesh, glowing with a primal energy that seemed to draw upon the very essence of celestial forces. Cursed energy surged within you, intertwining with your resolve to protect what remained of the Ryomen lands.

Above, the sky twisted and darkened, clouds swirling in ominous patterns that mirrored the chaos unleashed below. Stars twinkled with an otherworldly brilliance, aligning in intricate constellations that seemed to dictate the course of fate. The earth itself trembled beneath your feet, a testament to the raw power now at your command.

With a deep, steadying breath, you felt the blood flowing from your wounds mingle with the cursed energy, forming a potent symbol of your determination and sacrifice. The land itself responded to your call, the whole of Ryomen's domain pulsating with the echoes of ancient battles and celestial subjugation.

As you invoked the Heavenly Subjugation, time itself seemed to warp and bend. The world around you froze in suspended animation, caught within the unyielding grasp of your domain expansion. Minds trapped within the frozen tableau of reality, repeating in an endless loop, their actions and intentions ensnared by the unrelenting power you wielded.

Through gritted teeth, you focused every fiber of your being on maintaining the domain. The weight of centuries-old grievances, the sorrow of loss, and the fierce determination to protect your legacy propelled you forward. Each moment stretched into eternity, every heartbeat synchronized with the ebb and flow of celestial forces harnessed through your will.

Ryomen Sukuna arrived soon enough. You did not know how he knew, but he could feel you—your cursed energy spreading through Hida, mayhaps even beyond. The scent, the tension, the force of it was unmistakable to him. His eyes grew wide as he took in the scene before him: your Domain Expansion, Heavenly Subjugation, where darkness swallowed the world.

You stood in the courtyard of the Ryomen manor, bleeding from childbirth, your eyes slowly losing their light even as your stance remained resolute. You were altering reality as you spoke, creating a time loop illusion to protect those you loved. Sukuna knew that you had to keep yourself alive long enough to sustain the loop.

Breathing heavily, you barely registered Sukuna's approach. "Stop,stop it now!" he commanded, his voice filled with a rare note of desperation. "End it. The more you continue, the closer you are to death. Hiromi!”

You looked down at the blood pooling at your feet, from the birth of your child. Determination filled your bright purple eyes as you began to chant once more, releasing more cursed energy. It mixed with your blood as you invoked, "Heaven’s Blossom." 

Brutally misfigured, cursed spirits emerged from the pool of blood, their forms twisted and horrific. Each spirit bore the mark of their origin—born from your blood, infused with the dark energies that coursed through your veins. Their emergence was heralded by a guttural, otherworldly howl that echoed through the chamber, chilling the very air.

The spirits wasted no time in manifesting their malevolent intent. With a relentless fury, one of them lunged at Sukuna, the King of Curses, a primal force of chaos and destruction. Sukuna met the attack with a snarl of defiance, his movements fluid and deadly as he defended himself against the spectral assailant. The clash between the ancient curse and the vengeful spirit was a symphony of violence, each strike reverberating with primal power.

Meanwhile, the other cursed spirits moved with eerie precision, their ghastly forms gliding across the chamber floor towards their intended targets. With merciless efficiency, they descended upon their victims, their talons and fangs tearing through flesh and bone with grotesque ease. The more blood that flowed, the more the creatures seemed to grow in strength and ferocity, their unearthly hunger driving them to greater acts of carnage.

Amidst the chaos, another spirit joined the fray against Sukuna, its spectral form shimmering with malevolent energy. The King of Curses found himself beset on all sides, forced to fend off multiple adversaries while striving to reach you, their creator and the source of their dark genesis.

The chamber became a battleground of primal forces, a maelstrom of violence and supernatural prowess. The air crackled with dark energy, the stench of blood and death hanging heavy as the cursed spirits unleashed their unholy wrath upon all who dared to stand in their path.

Through the haze of battle, you struggled to maintain control, your bleeding wrists pulsing with cursed energy that fueled the relentless assault of your creations. Every movement was a calculated dance of survival and domination, your willpower tested against the insatiable hunger of the spirits you had unleashed upon the world.

As Sukuna fought tooth and nail to break through the onslaught and reach you, the chamber trembled with the intensity of the conflict. Each blow struck resonated with the weight of destiny, the outcome of the struggle poised on a knife's edge between triumph and oblivion.

"Stop this madness!" he shouted, slashing through one of the cursed spirits with a fierce swipe. But your resolve did not waver. You knew that this was the only way to ensure the safety of your children. “Night flower, please—”

You did not listen. The cursed spirits, borne of your blood and unleashed with relentless fury, swarmed the courtyard like vengeful specters. Their twisted forms twisted and tore through the ranks of the Gojo usurpers and their allies, leaving a trail of carnage in their wake. The air reverberated with the chilling echoes of their unearthly howls, a grim symphony to accompany the onslaught of death and destruction.

But Sukuna, the King of Curses, would not yield to such malevolent forces unchallenged. With ferocious determination, he met the spirits head-on, his movements fluid and deadly as he tore through them one by one. Each strike of his monstrous strength was a testament to his primal power, his wrathful gaze fixed upon you amidst the chaos.

The courtyard became a battleground, a grisly tableau of blood and death as Sukuna's relentless onslaught turned the tide of battle. The cursed spirits, once formidable in their malevolence, fell before his fury, their ethereal forms dissipating into nothingness with each devastating blow. Yet, despite the carnage surrounding him, Sukuna's focus remained singular—on reaching you, the source of this dark and chaotic magic.

As the last of the cursed spirits fell to Sukuna's relentless assault, the courtyard fell eerily silent, save for the ragged breaths and the lingering echoes of battle. The ground beneath your feet was stained with the blood of fallen enemies, mingling with the earth in a grim testament to the cost of war.

In the aftermath, Sukuna's eyes, filled with a mixture of relief and anger, locked onto you. His powerful presence approached swiftly, the intensity of his gaze piercing through the aftermath of chaos. Despite the victory, the tension in his demeanor was palpable, a storm of conflicting emotions swirling within him.

He reached you in swift strides, his footsteps echoing in the quietude that followed the storm. The King of Curses stood before you, his towering form a stark contrast against the backdrop of devastation. His expression, a mask of emotions ranging from fury to concern, betrayed the depth of his turmoil. It was like then all over again, you think to yourself. When he was a boy.

"You fool. You stupid, stupid fool." Sukuna growled, his voice a low rumble that reverberated through the courtyard. "How could you do this? You knew from the very beginning that you could—”

You met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and remorse, the weight of your decisions heavy upon your shoulders. "I had to. you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. "There was no other choice."

Sukuna's eyes narrowed, his anger palpable as he regarded you with an intensity that bordered on fury. "There is always a choice, you know that." he countered, his voice a dangerous whisper. "But you chose darkness. This stupidity.”

“As you did.” You smiled at him wearily.

"You did it," he said, his voice breaking. "But at what cost?"

You swayed on your feet, the toll of the fight and childbirth overwhelming you. "The cost was necessary," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "My children are safe."

As your domain shattered around you, the immense strain and the toll of wielding such dark power became unbearable. Gasping for breath, you felt every fiber of your being scream with exhaustion, threatening to give way beneath the weight of your own formidable abilities.

Sukuna's voice echoed faintly in the distance, calling out your name with urgency and concern. The once-imposing battlefield around you now seemed distant and surreal, a stark contrast to the harsh reality of your body failing you. With each labored breath, the air burned in your lungs, and you struggled to remain conscious as the ground rushed up to meet you.

The bitter cold of winter snowflakes began to drift down from the leaden sky, settling softly upon your face and hands. The serene descent of snowflakes painted a stark contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded, a haunting reminder of the fleeting beauty and harsh reality of life.

Sukuna's strong arms enveloped you, pulling you close with a mix of desperation and tenderness. His gaze bore into yours, filled with a sudden panic that mirrored the intensity of your own struggle. He could see life slipping away from you, and his heart clenched with a fierce protectiveness born of deep and unexpected emotion.

"Calm down," Sukuna urged, his voice thick with emotion as he cradled your weakening form. "Stay with me."

You tried to respond, but each attempt was met with a painful cough, blood staining your lips and throat. The metallic taste of iron lingered, a cruel reminder of the toll exacted by your relentless pursuit of power and protection.

"I'm sorry," you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible amidst the biting wind and the soft patte of falling snow. "I didn't mean..."

Sukuna's expression softened, his features etched with a profound sorrow that cut deeper than any blade. He pressed his forehead against yours, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the biting cold that threatened to claim you. His fingers brushed gently over your cheek, as if trying to imprint your presence into his memory forever.

"Don't speak," Sukuna murmured, his voice a mixture of anguish and fierce determination. "You'll make it through this. I won't let you go."

But even as he spoke, you felt the world slipping further away, the edges of your vision blurring into darkness. Each breath became a struggle, a battle against the inevitable pull of unconsciousness and the chill of approaching death.

As the snow continued to fall, softening the harsh outlines of the world around you, you closed your eyes. The weight of your decisions and the burden of your power finally relinquished, replaced by a quiet acceptance. An acceptance that he does not accept. 

In Ryomen Sukuna's embrace, surrounded by the gentle embrace of winter's embrace, you surrendered to the inevitable passage of time. Your breathing slowed, the rhythm of your heartbeat fading into the stillness of a world forever changed. You let it all be, surrendering to the echoes of the cycle.

He tries to shake you, his voice urgent and filled with desperation. "Keep your eyes open for me. I can find someone to heal you."

You shake your head weakly at him, a sad smile touching your lips. "I knew it would end this way." you whisper to him with a soft tone. “From the beginning….”

Sukuna's red four eyes are wide with fear and sorrow as he clutches you tighter. "No, no," he swears, his voice breaking. "I will heal you. I will take care of you."

You reach up and touch his face gently. "I'm exhausted, Sukuna. It's time."

Tears brim in his eyes as he pleads, "Don't leave me. Please, don't leave me."

Your vision begins to blur, but you manage to smile at him one last time. "I have to leave. People always must."

“You are not people. You’re…you’re….”

You take his hand and kiss it softly, feeling the warmth of his skin for the last time. "I loved you the most in this life, but I hope in the next, I would not."

As you slowly drift away in his arms, the world around you becomes a distant blur. Sukuna's anguished cries echo in your fading consciousness, a haunting melody of love and loss. His grip tightens, as if he could tether your soul to this mortal realm, but even he, with all his formidable power, cannot halt the inevitable.

The winter snow falls softly, blanketing the world in a cold, quiet stillness. Sukuna's breath fogs in the air as he holds you, his tears mingling with the snowflakes that settle on your skin. His voice, once so commanding and fierce, is now a broken whisper. 

"I won't let you go," he murmurs, his tone laced with a desperation born of centuries of solitude. "I won't...Not now. Not ever.”

Your hand, resting gently against his face, falls limply to your side. The warmth of your touch fades, and the light in your eyes dims until it is no more. The final breath escapes your lips, a soft sigh that carries your spirit away from the realm of the living.

Sukuna holds you close, his body trembling with the weight of his grief. The courtyard, once a battlefield, is now silent, save for the soft whisper of the falling snow. He remains there, cradling you in his arms, the world around him a stark contrast to the turmoil within his heart.

Hours pass, and the first light of dawn begins to break through the darkness. The sky blushes with the hues of sunrise, painting the scene with a fragile beauty. But Sukuna is oblivious to it all. His world has shattered, and no amount of time can mend the pieces of his broken heart.

Amidst the crimson-stained snow, Ryomen Hiromi, esteemed leader of the Ryomen clan, breathed your last breath. The battlefield, now silent except for the soft fluttering of snowflakes, bore witness to the end of a formidable life—a life marked by courage, devotion, and unwavering love.

Sukuna knelt beside you, his hands trembling as they cradled your still form. His gaze, usually fierce and unyielding, softened with grief and disbelief. Your once-vibrant eyes, now closed in eternal rest, held the reflection of a thousand battles fought and victories won.

The wind whispered through the cherry blossom trees, casting a delicate veil over the scene. Sukuna's heart, heavy with sorrow, echoed the mournful silence of the winter landscape. He had loved you more deeply than he could ever express, and now, in this moment of finality, he struggled to comprehend a world without your presence. He struggles to know what life truly is worth, if there is no you to give it meaning. He looks at you, defeated. 

"Night flower….." he murmured, his voice breaking with emotion. "My love..."

He pressed his forehead against yours, as if seeking solace in the remnants of your warmth. Memories flooded his mind—of laughter shared beneath moonlit skies, of whispered promises in the quiet of night, of battles fought side by side against insurmountable odds.

But now, there was only silence. The weight of your absence settled upon him like a leaden cloak, suffocating and unbearable. The woman who had been his anchor, his confidante, his beloved, was now gone, leaving behind an irreplaceable void.

In the distance, the first rays of dawn painted the horizon with hues of gold and pink, a poignant contrast to the sorrow that enveloped Sukuna's heart. He knew that life would go on, that wars would be waged and victories celebrated, but for now, all he could feel was the emptiness left by your departure.

Gently, Sukuna closed your eyes, his touch tender yet filled with a profound sense of loss. He kissed your forehead, a final farewell to the woman who had captured his heart so completely. "Rest now, my love," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the whispering wind. "You will forever be in my heart."

As the world stirred awake to greet a new day, Sukuna remained by your side, his grief a silent tribute to the depth of your bond. The snow continued to fall, covering the earth in a blanket of white, the echoes of purity in your love amidst the chaos of war and destiny.

And so, amidst the red snow, Ryomen Hiromi passed from this world.

Ryomen Sukuna realized for the first time in years what it was truly like.

What it was truly like to be the most powerless creature in all of the world.

facts about this chapter

i can finally reveal the family tree of the ryomen family. i had to hold off but this is the family tree in the book, written by the newly born lady mikoto about her mom.

the mikoto became a prevalent clan by the end of the wars. the ryomen family name remained as a secondary name, but people ignored it the moment the family name changed to mikoto.

masaomi never remarried - he focused on revitalizing the ryomen/mikoto into one of the outliers of the jujutsu world all his life and protected his only child from any politiking that threatened her.

the mikoto are divided into two ranks now - those blood descendants of hiromi and those adopted and or are mikoto. the descendants of hiromi are represented by red and those adopted and or are mikoto are presented by purple. it traces where you come from in the clan.

hiromi's hand sign for heavenly subjugation is from the kuji-in or nine hand seals which are system of mudras and associated mantras that consist of nine syllables. hiromi uses number eight which is called zen.

eight is considered a holy number in ancient japan. its also considered a number of prosperity. the death of hiromi brings prosperity to other people, except herself.

hiromi dies at the age of 43 - which sounds like stillbirth in japanese. 死産 - shizan: 死 - death/to die and 産 - childbirth/produce.

masako was unseated as the heir to the ryomen because of the birth of her sister - due to the fact that her mother married masaomi and had a child with him. with the change of the clan name and the change in the system, masako was thought to be better as her brother's adviser.

the beginning of the gojo-ryomen/mikoto family ties truly started with the marriages between the children of hiromi. gojo satoru traces his descent from them.

sukuna did not challenge hiromi's youngest child for the ryomen seat. but a lot of the ryomen bannermen sided with him or went to the service of the gojo because masaomi was lowly in rank and thought sukuna or seiryuu/masako had more blood right than masaomi or his daughter did.

the chapter word number is in total 9900 words last i check and nine is an unlucky number in japanese. as nine often can sometimes pronounced ku — with the same pronunciation as agony or torture.

the next chapter happens near 70, 80 years after the death of hiromi and it will be from sukuna's perspective.

[jayjj7]

chapter 25. screw this party

prev. next masterlist

on the way to the party, the car is dead silent, awkward, and semi-uncomfortable because of you and yunjin’s kiss. it was already established that you would be driving and haerin called ‘shotgun’ last night. that puts hanni and yunjin in the back seat together.

obviously you were trying to keep it cool, it’s not like your crush kissed you when you thought she didn’t feel the same way or anything. but because it was interrupted, the thought of you and yunjin advancing in a relationship seemed slim.

“hey yunjin, who invited you to this party?” hanni asks, breaking the silence.

you feel your shoulders relax.

“oh this one guy was walking around campus and um walking up to people inviting them” yunjin nods, still feeling tense. her voice stuttering still on edge since hanni walked in on you two in the bathroom.

“oh, nice” hanni adds.

crashing the car would have been a better experience than the awkwardness of this ride. thankfully it was pretty short, only a 5 minute drive.

“haerin, text minji and tell her we’re here for me” you call out, pulling into a parking space.

after putting the car in park you all get out and check for any wrinkles or imperfections on your clothes.

“minji says they’re both in the backyard waiting” haerin reads out of her phone with hanni reading the message over haerins shoulder.

as you walk up the steps to the house you see yunjin tense, she’s fidgeting with her nails. feeling as if you’re responsible for her acting like this, you intertwine your hand with hers and give her a reassuring squeeze before smiling at her. she returns the smile and squeeze before her attention is directed to the guy who answers the door.

as you all walk in, minji and danielle catch your eye, they’re in the backyard watching people play beer pong. haerin and hanni start heading their way.

“cmon yunjin you should meet minji and dani!” you try to sound excited to lift her spirits but you yourself are not feeling the best. still holding her hand you try to pull her outside only to feel the loss of her warm hand around yours.

“i’ll get us some drink i’ll be out there in a second” yunjin lets go of your hand and heads a different direction from you after shooting you a sad smile.

even though you don’t say anything to her, she knows you are just as confused as she is and you do too. maybe you guys both just need to loosen up?

after a couple hours and drinks into the party you are all definitely loosened up. minji and hanni are singing terrible karaoke, haerin and danielle are having a dance competition, and you’re taking shots with a couple other people, including yunjin. though she was across the table from you making it very difficult to interact with her.

the two of you hadn’t spoken since yunjin said she went to go get drinks, she’s been with her friends all night. speaking of which, sakura introduced herself and the rest of their group to you earlier. you had actually gotten along with chaewon the most out of her friends and had a good time playing beer pong with chaewon, but every interaction you had with anyone, you could feel yunjin shooting darts with her eyes, staring at you and your every move. after a couple shots and laughs, yunjin stands up to use the restroom, you follow close behind hoping to talk with her.

you stop her before she walk in. annoyed and tipsy, you get straight to the point:

“what the fuck yunjin?” you scream out to be heard by her over the loud music playing. the absence of a response pisses you off more.

“why did you just disappear on me like that?”

“i wanted to spend time with you!”

“hell you invited me to this party and the only reason i came was to spend time with you! and i haven’t spoken to you in hours!”

you continue complaining. you’re usually not as spoken out like this but the alcohol and the jealousy got to you.

“shut up” yunjin mutters

“what the fuck did you just say to me yun-“

once again, yunjin cuts you off with a kiss, this time more aggressive.

“i said shut up” she says in between kisses.

this time her hands are able to hold your face like she wanted to and you can hold her hips like you wished you could. feeling her lips against yours makes your jealousy wash away in an instant, the way she bends down slightly, your knees going weak, her heavy breathing.

“i’m sorry” yunjin pulls away

“i shouldn’t have left you alone, i was just…upset? or…i can’t find the right words” yunjin pinches the bridge of her nose and shuts her eyes.

“i’m scared things are ruined between us” she admits.

you can only shake your head no, if only she knew how long you’ve wanted this.

the party was staring to die down, people were leaving, no one was doing crazy shit outside. until a song came on that made everyone get up and dance to its iconic choreography and lyrics. before that you were hanging out with yunjin and her friends drinking and laughing, your head was resting on yunjins shoulder as you both got the closure you needed a few moments ago.

everyone headed to the dance floor and started dancing but because of the amount of people that were in the small living room, you lost sight of yunjin. regardless, you started dancing without a care in the world. that was before a sight that changed what you had fixed minutes ago.

yunjin was making out with a girl who was the same height as her, blonde, and had a very revealing dress. the girl she was kissing was clearly into it and held yunjin tightly by the waist.

instead of going up to them and breaking it up, you decided to pay her back and mess around with the other girls there. of course you were still hurt by this, angry, a tight feeling in your chest forcing you to wipe the tears forming in your eyes.

but a girl had come up behind you and saw this as an opportunity to twerk and grind up on her. you leaned forward and pushed against her as people started cheering, forming a circle to watch, and having a bunch of attention towards the two of you.

this attention and noise had brought yunjin to stop kissing that girl and turn over. jealousy, anger, sadness, heartbreak, frustration all built up inside of her. not sure if it was the alcohol or the jealousy she walked up to the girl you were twerking on and pushed her back against the wall and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you outside of the house.

minji, chaewon, and kazuha had seen the whole thing play out. all shocked and uncertain of what to do, minji was following right behind you before chaewon stopped her, convincing to let you and yunjin talk it out yourselves.

“don’t touch me yunjin!” you pull your hand away from her grasp. now outside, all noise around you fades, your only focus on yunjin.

“who the fuck was that?” yunjin leans down slightly to your height

“like you would care! who’s that bitch your making out with?” you yell back, point towards the door.

yunjin smacks her lip, rolls her eyes, and turns away from you while shaking her head. she’s clearly frustrated by the consequences of her actions while you’re more hurt by this than anything.

wiping your tears, you walk around the corner to avoid yunjin, helpless she walks back inside holding her head with one hand.

taglist : [ @1luvkarina @thefckghost @everydayiloveyves @may-madness @modanisgf @mushroom-main ] (taglist is open!!)

[igotanidea]

Cold weather: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Christmas bingo day 14 : cold weather

~Oh, the weather outside is frightful…~

“Turn it down.”

“Well, it’s not like the song has nothing to do with reality-“ Y/N retorted not really listening to Hotch’s command “it is particularly cold weather today.”

The words she used were quite an understatement. When the BAU team (strengthen by the fellow DA in the person of Y/N) left for yet another field action, there was no premonition of the upcoming blizzard and the temperature drop. Currently, it was hard to drive due to the heavy snowfall, but neither Y/N nor Derek seemed to be bothered by it. Maybe it was because they were both the passengers, but seemingly nothing could destroy their Christmas spirit, not even an unhinged killer on the loose. Obviously they were professional, as always, but their humour and attitude were something the chief of the unit were struggling to put up with, leaving him wondering why did he even choose those two to come with in the first place.  

“Turn it down.” This time it was far more stern, even for Aaron.

“Are you a Grinch now, Hotch?” Morgan grinned from the back seat, earning nothing more than a single grunt from his boss and turning the radio off. “Come on!”

“We’re at work.”

“So what?” Derek whined “working as the profiler does not come along with being gloomy during Christmas time-“

“Morgan!” Y/N felt the need to intervene upon noticing slight, almost untraceable frown on Hotch’s face “enough.” 

“Oh, so you’re siding with the boss now, Y/N?” the fellow agent leaned forward from behind the seat “Just so you know, sunshine, that’s treason.”

“He’s not my boss. I’m independent of FBI And what you just said is a slander. Pretty sure is punishable.”

“don’t give me the DA talk, Y/N. Besides-” her friend’s smile only grew wider as he moved to whisper in her ear “are you sure you are not biased because of someone’s presence?”

“Enough. Both of you.” Hotch silenced them way more effectively by pulling off the car, showing his discomfort with the subject of the conversation. Of course he knew, he was a profiler for god’s sake. “We’re here.”

Three other cars were already parked nearby and the rest of the team were waiting Obviously, the crime scene was the open area and they were going to investigate and look for clues during a snowstorm, in the cold, and almost in the dark.

“Tell me again, whose idea was it to come here right away? There is no chance we are going to find anything.” Morgan almost rolled his eyes at the nonsense of the action.

“Not with that attitude, Morgan.” Hotch muttered growlingly, turning up the collar of his coat “You could have stayed at the precinct if you’re just going to complain.”

“Can I still get back there?”

“Guys! Come and see this!” the only excited person present, Spencer, called from the side of the trees, already invested in the searching, standing knee-deep in the snow inspecting something that might have been a trace as well as some irrelevant dust brought by the wind.

“What you got there, kiddo?” Morgan almost instantly moved toward the direction from with Spencer’s voice was coming. He was surprisingly protective of the young doctor. Added value, that he finally left Y/N and the BAU boss alone.

“Cold?” Hotch asked

“What? Cold? Me? No. Not really. Not at all.” She shivered from an icy gust of wind.

“You’re shaking.”

“Am I? Really? Didn’t notice.” sticking hands in her pockets did not bring the intended effect at all.

“Maybe you should be the one heading back instead of Morgan?”

“No way! It’s my job to-“

“You’re the DA. There’s no body here. You’re useless here.”

Oh. Oh damn, that hurt.

“Useless?” she frowned feeling her cheeks flustering from the sudden rush of emotions, unable to hide it “Well I;m pretty sure if you keep dragging your team through the frozen lake in search for clues we will have a corpse in no time.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow.

“Wonder who will be useless then.” She scoffed and walked past him to join the rest of the BAU. However, she didn’t get far when a sudden grip on her hand made her stop in her tracks.

“You’re wasting time.” Hotch pointed out roughly, pulling her along, sticking her gloveless hand in the pocket of his  coat, entwining their fingers, effectively hiding the fact from the view.

***

“What got into your head?” he was fuming an hour later, his fiery gaze focused on her shaking silhouette covered by the thickest blanket they could find at the provincial precinct, sitting next to the radiator with the steaming cup of chamomile tea in her hands. “If you were my subordinate-“

“Good thing I am not then, agent Hotchner.” She cut him off with a mocking, teasing look.“Proved my point. Both of them, actually.” Yes, jumping to save Spencer, who turned out to be an unfortunate person under whom the ice broke, may not have been rational, but it was certainly heroic. “we almost had another body. And hey, guess I am not useless after all.”

 “We’ll see. But I might see some potential to keep you around.” Maybe it was an optic illusion but it seemed like the left corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

“For work?” she smirked

“Yes.”

That piercing gaze were getting a little bit uncomfortable so just to cover for the additional shaking of her hands (not from the cold) she took a sip of her drink.

“L/N?”

“Hm?”

“You should use more hand cream. Your skin is scabrous.”

What the hell was he hinting at?!  

@somest1

[aureliqs]

confessions in the common room

pairing: Remus Lupin x female reader

content:

Pure fluff

The school year is nearing its end and the finals are coming closer every day. You and your dear friend Remus are once again studying in the common room late at night during the week, while the other marauders are deeply asleep. Both of you can’t deny the built up tension, that has steadily increased, especially since you two always end up studying just with eachothers company

“I hate transfiguration class” y/n exclaimed as she let her head fall in her hands. Remus, who sat opposite to y/n, let out a long sigh, looked up at her, and just breathed an “yes this class in killing me”. As Remus looked at her, he wanted nothing more than to quit studying. Her beautiful eyes, her lips, her hair, just everything. Spending time with her and meanwhile admiring her is one thing. Trying to focus on studying while being near her another. Remus mustered himself up to continue reading, and silence filled the common room for a quite a time after, since neither of them knew what to say next. Both of their heads were racing with thoughts about how to get through the transfiguration finals.

Y/n was overwhelmed, and her mood was logically quit low. After heaping her head out of her hands she looked at a frustrated Remus frowning into his text book, desperately trying to understand its contents. Y/n hated seeing Remus like that.

Even then, Remmy, as she often calls him, looked beautiful. Brown fluffy hair, teddy eyes with an even darker shade of brown and the sweetest smile one could imagine. Usually, that is. She missed seeing him smile as often as he did before. The last weeks really took the life out of both of them. Sirius, James and Peter all cared equally less about studying as long as they passed. But y/n and Remus hat different ambitions. Ambitions worth suffering for they supposed. Still, they couldn’t wait for it to end, because nearly every evening ended with both of them studying late at night.

Studying and a silence, that was killing y/n. She needed a break. A conversation with Remus would hopefully lift her spirit.

“Remus” y/n whispered, to which Remus just murmured an absent “yes, what is it”.

“Cant we just drop everything and let fate decide our destiny” y/n vented. “I miss normally spending time with you so much”.

After y/n realised what she just said, a slight blush began to form on her cheeks. Did she really just said she misses his company. They do spend a lot of time together, be it with friends or just the two of them, but neither of them ever spoke about it. Y/n became a natural part of the marauders, since she accidentally found out about Remus werewolf secret early in their friendship, after she saw the boys trying to patch him up.

It might not seem like a big deal to other people, but for y/n it basically just felt like a love confession. All the times they’ve catched the other one just looking a bit too long, all of the meeting glances, the accidental touches of their hands, where both of them quickly pull away and apologise, despite wishing it continued. Both of them danced around it for so long, trying to ignore it.

Even the other marauders noticed, often times raising an eyebrow, smirking, but otherwise brushing it off and leaving it up to them to not get involved. It would happen eventually they thought.

Remus heart skipped a beat for a second. Y/n misses me he thought to himself. As y/n tried to look down in the textbook to not meet his eyes, Remus was looking at her, trying to muster up his courage. This is his chance. He can’t miss it. Not now. Y/n has been driving him crazy with everything. Her laugh, her witty remarks, the way she frowns when she looks in her textbooks, which he has been seeing fairly often lately, just everything.

“I…I’ve been missing you too” Remus declared, mustering up the courage to look at her. As y/n looked up at him, she understood that he meant it exactly the way she has meant it. She just didn’t know what to say now. Y/n was absolutely dumbstruck and the blushing was once again creeping up on her face.

Remus swallowed. This was it, all or nothing. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something for a while now.” Y/n looked at him with her eyes wide open and just slightly nodded, as no sound would leave her throat.

“I like you…I mean I really like you, like romantically” Remus stiffened as he noticed he was messing it up. Y/n realised what was happening, but was still too dumbstruck to speak. Remus didn’t notice as he was to busy with his own hang up at the moment.

“Uuuum, no, well actually. Wait! Let me start again.” The fluffy haired boy stopped himself, took a deep breath and began again”

“I’ve had feelings for a while now, and I just want to ask you if you would go on a date with me. I think you’re so sweet, and funny and… just beautiful” he exclaimed. Remus words hung in the air, tensing everything up.

Y/n came to her senses again. Hesitant at first, she proclaimed “I … I would really love that.”

“Phewww” Remus began to chuckle. “I’ve been so scared about ruining our friendship right here and now. I didn’t want to screw our friendship”

Y/n slightly grinned at him, and just added an “I’ve been so scared too”. All of the tension felt like it was blown away, and the room eased up. They were both just slightly smiling at eachother, both being a bit red on the cheeks.

Y/n chuckled and said “I can really look forward to something now, to get through these horrible finals”, to which Remus just replied a “yeah, to best thing I could imagine”

A slight yawn creeped up on y/n, and Remus realised it would be better to just end the night and get some rest. “Y/n, maybe we should get some sleep”. Y/n followed up with another yawn, and cooed a little “yes, we should”

They were quickly finished with packing up their textbooks, parchment and quills. As y/n was about to head upstairs to her dorm, she turned to Remus and said “I can’t wait for our date. You’re really sweet. Good night Remmy”

Remus replied with a “I can’t wait either, good night to you too”, but before Remus could leave y/n hugged him. It was their first hug, and it felt so intimate. The way her hands wrapped around his waist, and how her hair smelled like vanilla and honey. Y/n felt so close because she was. For Remus it is a dream come true. Just as y/n pulls away, Remus comes back to his senses. Y/n is about to head to hear dorm, already being on the steps and he just sees hair leave for the night.

Remus stood there for a few seconds longer before heading upstairs and getting ready for bed. As he was laying in bed, he had a hard time falling asleep. All he could think about was what will happen in his near future, and Remus couldn’t help himself from grinning to himself. Little did he know, y/n was doing the exact same thing right now too.

I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to leave me some feedback,prompts and request <3

[hunterscabin]

Birthday Pie

Request: Can you write a fic where she falls down the stairs please? Like really clumsy, can hunt like a badass but still falls over her own two feet? - Anonymous

Pairings: Dean x Reader; Sam x Reader

Warnings: Small injury; angsty Dean; fluffy Dean; fluffy Sam; the gang’s all here!

Word Count: 1.2k 

Author’s Note: Thank you for the request, Nonnie! I had a hard time wrapping this one up, so my apologies for the disgustingly saccharine, after school special ending. 

The drive back to the bunker was spent in silence, save for the frustrated grunts and sighs Dean let out every few minutes. It had been a long day. Breaking up the vamp nest hadn’t gone as planned with the leader fleeing before you were able to get the answers you needed. Dean was always agitated after an unsuccessful hunt, but he was never this theatrical with his disappointment. You had a feeling it had something to do with the fact that it was also his birthday. 

“At least this hunt was close to home,” you said, trying to infuse some positivity, “We’ll be back at the bunker in no time!” 

Dean scoffed at your platitude. 

“We’ll be able to track them down again,” you assured, “and we know they won’t be feeding for a while.” 

You could almost feel Dean gritting his teeth.

“We killed over half the nest!”

“You killed over half the nest,” Sam corrected, “you were great today, Y/N.” 

He turned to face you, but his smile quickly faded when he saw your somber expression. You were clearly trying to lift Dean’s spirits, and he wouldn’t even acknowledge you. Sam turned to his brother and cleared his throat, hoping to send the message that Dean needed to cool it. Dean ignored Sam and kept his angry gaze fixed on the road. 

“I made pie.” you whispered earnestly. 

Your last attempt at finding a silver lining struck a chord, and you saw a smile tug at Dean’s lips. His face hardened when your eyes met in the rear view mirror, but the second he thought you weren’t looking anymore, he allowed the smirk to slide back on his face. 

Dean’s birthday pie balanced precariously in the palm of your right hand, the scent of sweet crust and tart cherries wafting over you as you made your way downstairs. You had baked the pie before leaving that morning, hiding it in the sitting area near the front door to ensure that Dean wouldn’t eat the entire thing before dinner. His gift was tucked under your left arm, making the descent more difficult than it needed to be. You could have taken two trips, but the boys were eager to eat. 

Lost in thought over where the fugitive vamp leader could have retreated, your foot missed a step and sent you tumbling. When you moved your left hand to steady the wobbling dessert, Dean’s gift fell out from under your arm; a small sacrifice to save Dean’s precious pie. You were able to regain your balance by supporting your elbow on the railing. Satisfied that you had sufficiently steadied yourself, you let out a sigh of relief and continued making your way to the kitchen. The instant you lifted your foot and felt resistance, you knew you were doomed. In your initial stumble, the sock of one foot became caught under the other, and you were now stuck beneath yourself.  

Your entire body toppled forward. Unless you let go of the pie to free your hands, you were going to fall flat on your face. In a last ditch effort to save the dessert, you lofted it over the railing to the floor below. For a moment, it looked as though you may have made the right decision, but at the last second, the pie flopped forward and landed upside down on the cold tile. You reached the bottom of the stairs with a loud thud. 

Hearing the commotion, Sam and Dean came running from the kitchen. While the sight of your twisted limbs would have sent anyone else rushing to your aid, the boys had seen you like this enough times before to know that you were fine. You were an extremely skilled and agile hunter, but navigating your own two feet had always proven difficult. In day-to-day life, you were an absolute klutz. 

Sam let out a soft chuckle as he stepped forward. “You okay, Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You mumbled, your ego hurting more than anything else. 

As Sam moved to help you up, everyone’s eyes fell on the upside down dessert.

“It was an accident, Dean, I swear.” You scrambled to stand, not realizing you had injured your ankle in the fall. As soon as you were upright, the pain hit you and you winced, teetering forward.  

“Y/N!” Sam caught you before you fell on top of the pie. He helped you sit back down and propped you up against the wall. 

Dean still hadn’t said a word, and was looking at you, expressionless, from the other side of the hallway. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your birthday,” you apologized, your eyes casting down to the floor. 

Dean let out a loud sigh before turning around and walking toward the kitchen. 

“Do you think he’s mad?“ 

"It’s just a pie, Y/N. He’ll get over it.” Sam sat down and leaned up against the wall next to you. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, almost inaudibly. 

“Y/N/N, look at me.” You lifted your eyes to meet your Sma’s. They were filled with sympathy and kindness. 

“It’s been a long day. You know how cranky he gets after a bad hunt. If he’s mad, it’s not because of you.” Sam wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You knew he was right, but you couldn’t help the tears forming in your eyes. 

To your surprise, Dean returned with a towel of ice. He sat next to you on the bottom step and placed the ice on your already swollen ankle. One of the tears you’d been holding back escaped and rolled down your cheek. 

“Does it hurt that bad?” Dean questioned, knowing your usually high tolerance for pain. 

“No,” you said to the floor, unable to look at him, “I thought you were mad at me." 

"I’m not mad at you, sweetheart,” Dean confirmed, cracking his first real smile of the day, “You made me pie!" 

When you still didn’t look at him, Dean sat down next to you. 

"Look, I know I’ve been a crab ass all day.” You and Sam stared at Dean, both of you surprised by his admission. “We don’t get to celebrate things like a normal family. I knew I wasn’t gonna get a party or balloons, but I hoped I’d at least get vengeance for the people those vamps have been killing." 

"I’m sorry today wasn’t what you wanted it to be." 

"You don’t need to apologize, Y/N/N.” Dean pressed a kiss to your temple before leaning forward. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out three forks. He handed one to you and one to Sam. 

“What are these for?” Sam inquired. 

“Pie.” Dean stated as if Sam’s was the dumbest question he’d ever heard. 

“You’re going to eat the pie off the floor?” You looked up at Dean in disbelief. 

Dean crouched down next to his dilapidated dessert. He lifted the baking tin and drove his fork right into the center of the bottom of the pie. A look of ecstasy washed over his face as he shoved the piece into his mouth. 

You and Sam flashed each other a look of “Why not” and crawled toward the pie. Careful to avoid the parts that had touched the floor, you took a big scoop.

“This is really good, Y/N,” Dean praised, wiping away the cherry syrup at the corners of his mouth.

The three of you sat on the floor, picking at the pie until you were too full to continue.

Dean leaned against the staircase banister and let out a satisfied chuckle. 

“Turned out to be a pretty good birthday after all."

Masterlist

[kyleoreillylover]

The Bloodline!Reader x Rhea Ripley x Dominick Mysterio Part 2

A/N: You guys asked and I delivered! This took so freaking long 😭😭 I wasn’t expecting all the love on the first part, so thank you all! Here’s a part 2, lmk if you want a part three as well. This also has more bloodline and reader lore, but Dom and Rhea are in there too, I just needed to continue the bloodline story.

Tw: Manipulation, reader being manipulative, angry confrontations, cursing.

After Dom and Rhea comforted you, you insisted on driving to your hotel by yourself. Even though opening up to them cleared your head a bit, you needed to be alone for a while to process these emotions.

They were wary-torn between wanting to respect your boundaries but also wanting to be there for you-but they didn’t want to overwhelm you, so they let you go.

You promised them you’d come back to them once your mind calmed down, and that made them feel a bit better.

Unbeknownst to the 3 of you, Paul was looking for you under the “Tribal Chiefs Orders” and caught you leaving their locker room.

He sent immediately sent Solo after you, his usual stoic demeanor being replaced by anger as he drove to your hotel.

It all clicked into his mind- Romans’ sudden hostility towards you, the weird tension between TJD and you, you refusing Romans orders. And he couldn’t believe you, his own sister, would be affiliating with your families enemies.

When he came to your room, furiously banging the door and yelling at you once you opened it, you felt your emotions rushing again, but instead of sadness, there was anger- the burning hot anger you tried to push back these past few weeks because in fear of hurting your blood.

But now, you didn’t care. Why should you care when they clearly didn’t share those same fears?

You let that anger run hot, but you didn’t let it burn all your judgment down. You wanted to hurt Roman, to make him feel the same pain you’ve been feeling, but you needed to be smart about it.

“What the hell was that, huh?” Solo shouted at you, and you winced at how loud his voice was. “Is what Paul said true? You been talking to them Judgment Day bitches and helping them? What the fuck? You gonna pull a Sami and ditch us too, uce?

“You know damn well I'd never do that! And I'm not helping them! You just gonna hear what Paul says and believe him, huh?" You yelled right back at him, wiping at your eyes and it was then that Solo looked at you, really looked at you since everything that had happened at the Royal Rumble. Your slumped shoulders, your bloodshot eyes glaring at him- had you been crying? He let his guard down a little at that but continued on. "Then why were you in their room? What were you doing with them?" Your frown turned into a scowl as you crossed your arms, looking at Solo. "I was in their room cause when I was leaving the arena, Rhea thought it would be funny to talk some mess about you guys when I was passing their room. And I was already overwhelmed and tired, so I couldn't control myself and I got in her face-" Solo's anger was slowly draining away as you continued to speak, being replaced by some guilt. Paul was always trying to start something, he should've known you wouldn't do anything without a reason.

“- then Dominick and Finn broke us up, and I left their room and I was just tired and didn’t wanna take out my anger on any of you, so I just went here to chill out and sleep.” You finished, making your way to your bed and sitting on top of it.

Solo didn’t know what to say, he had never seen you like this. You were always the one lifting everyone’s spirit, putting smiles on everyones faces with your infectious energy, the one that comforted everyone. He felt out of his element.

You took his silence as anger and put your head in your hands, and he couldn’t tell if you were crying or not. “Great. Now you’re mad at me, Roman is mad at me. I just fucked everything up today.”

You picked your head up when you felt the bed dip, seeing Solo sit next to you. He frowned when he saw that you were, in fact crying. “What do you mean today? Roman said something to you today?

You nodded, tears still coming out of your eyes. “Yeah, he talked about Paul mentioning something about the Judgment Day and Paul said I was acting suspicious & he just completely went off the rails on me. But this was before I snapped at Rhea, so I don’t know what Paul was talking about. But I’m sorry for worrying you guys.” You sighed, sniffling and about to wipe your eyes again when Solo stopped you, handing you the box of tissues. You gave him a small smile at his rare act of affection.

“Don’t be sorry. You need rest. I’ll talk to Paul. And Roman. What he doing ain’t cool.” Solo spoke, a hint of irritation in his voice.

“You good now, uce?” You nodded at him. “Yeah, I’m good. But wait-” You grabbed his shoulder, stopping him from getting up, and pulled him into a hug. He froze, not prepared for the physical contact.

“Be safe, okay? Don’t tell Roman, but I need a break from all of this shit for a while, but you need to hold down the fort Solo. Just stay safe while doing it.” You confessed, tightening your arms around him. He stayed silent for a moment as he slowly wrapped his arms around you.

“Of course uce. You stay safe too.” He said after a moment, squeezing you a bit tighter. You smirked against his shoulder, you didn’t think it’d be this easy but Solo always had a soft spot for you, his younger sister. You could see the seeds of doubt you planted in Paul and Roman making the gears in his head turn, and it made you smirk even more.

Once he left, you picked up your phone, texting Dom and Rhea and telling them about your plan.

They responded almost immediately, saying they were on board. They smiled at each other once they saw your messages, proud and happy you finally came to your senses and realized how toxic your family members were to you. Rhea couldn’t wait until she could pummel Roman into the ground for hurting you.

You grinned once they agreed, saying you’d meet them after you checked on Jey, which was phase one of your plan. He faced the worst of Roman, being mentally and emotionally abused by him, so you sympathized with him, and felt anger on his behalf. He was your older brother, and while all your brothers cared about you, he always cared a little bit more and tried to protected you from the brunt of Romans anger when the Bloodline first started. You wanted to do the same for him. But first, you needed to get in his head to get to Roman. He was the key to beating Roman.

Roman wants to play with fire? He'll realize that you're more than willing to embrace the flames if it finally led to his Empire and position as Tribal Chief getting burned. And if anyone got in your way, you’d drag them down in the flames with you.

[lucienarcheron]

Spirit Meets the Bones - III

Genre: Angst/Romance Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse.

biggest shoutout to @abruisedmuse ♥️ for keeping me sane while writing! ily.

Tagging: @sabrinaacarpenters | @vanserrass | @climb-the-mountian | @positivewitch | @helion-ism | @readthelastpaage | @sarions | @zenkindoflove | @animezinglife | @eastofatlanta | @carolynmezzosoprano | @carnythian | @runningwiththeoceans | @secret-third-thing | @readychilledwine | @clockwork-ashes | @goldenmagnolias | @mali22 | @maidr-00 | @electromagnetic-waves | @thedarkinmansfield | @theeternalstruggle | @devilsfoodcake22 | @the-midnightwriter | @spinachtz | @elizab3th-grace | @ladystarrynight | @highlady-fireheart | @that-golden-lyre | @krem-does-stuff | @lovedbyth3sun | @moonfawnx | @illyrianshadowhunter | @foxybananaaaz | @weesablackbeak | @ladywhilemia | @moobell55 | @alohaangels | @bibliophiliaxvignette | @easchies | @this-is-rochelle |

Find it all here.

Eris immediately knew he had made a mistake when he stood behind her, his hands inches away from her hair. He had been itching to touch her, especially when she kept getting angry with him. He could almost see her driving his own dagger into his throat and in a way his mother would be very concerned, it thrilled him.

He'd always known whoever he'd marry would be his father’s choice and naturally, had expected a snake of a wife, one that wanted his power and influence. He hadn’t expected to find one that mirrored his own survival instinct. 

 “May I?” he finally asked quietly and again, the air between them seemed to go taut. He watched Iris swallow through the mirror, saw her eyes dip for a moment to the dagger in her hand before looking up back at him, and then she nodded. 

Eris paused, even with her permission. Touching her hair seemed to feel too intimate for them. Just being in the same room like this seemed too intimate and Eris had barely touched her. 

Hesitantly, and much more gently than Iris seemed to anticipate, he began pulling out the pins that had been out of her reach and placed them on the vanity in front of her. 

Typically...typically his hand was fisted in a female’s hair. To be pulled. Yanked.  Rarely, if ever, had he touched gently, and it slightly unnerved him to feel so starved that he was reduced to touching her hair so tenderly like an absolute idiot. 

“A question for a question.” she said, breaking the silence, and his lip quirked. 

“A question for a question.”

“You said you were ordered to get married…” Iris began, and Eris’s fingers halted for a fleeting second before continuing. “Why couldn’t you choose your bride? Or say no?” 

Eris hummed softly. How was one to describe the tyrant of a father he had? The one person he fantasized about murdering each day? 

“My father...runs a very tight ruling in our court and household. As I’m sure you’ve heard,” he said quietly, his eyes solely focused on each hair strand that fell loose. “You do as you are told unless you can convince him otherwise. My reasons weren’t convincing enough. I’ve only ever disobeyed my father once and paid dearly for it.”

“What did you disobey him about?” she asked, and Eris tried not to pause again, his eyes hyper-focused on the slight pout in her frown, her furrowed eyebrows. 

 “Ah, ah. My question now.” he replied, tugging on a loose strand of hair gently, and chuckled when Iris scowled. She gestured with her hand for him to continue. 

“How did you learn to defend yourself?”

She was quiet for a moment and Eris watched her in the mirror with curiosity. “I used to sneak in and watch my father’s guard train. I’d wait until my father was out on business and then practice.” 

“By yourself?”

“...With a friend.”

“Oh?”

 Iris rolled her eyes though her cheeks had colored slightly. “I exchanged a few kisses and touches for a sparring partner. It helped me.” 

Eris felt heat coil in the pit of his stomach, a flicker of simmering anger he had no business feeling. “Did he...take advantage of you?”

Iris quirked her brow. “That’s three questions to my one.”  

“But did he?”

“Why do you care?”

Indeed. Why did he care? It wasn’t as though he could do anything about it now if the male had taken advantage of her. 

But then Mor flashed in his mind and Eris frowned. He had paid dearly for pretending he hadn’t cared about her in that moment of weakness. This, here, shouldn’t matter to him. Yet, he asked once more.

“Did he?”

Pursing her lips, Iris sighed. “No. I enjoyed the attention and allowed it. We didn’t get too far anyway. My father found out and banished him then beat me.” she explained, and Eris could see right through the nonchalant shrug she gave. “I wasn’t allowed to shame him by fucking the middle class. I was being saved for a prince.”

She gave him a sarcastic smile here and Eris tried not to smirk. “Thank you, wife. I’ll gladly take the burden of your maidenhood off your hands as soon as we get you out of this dress.”

“Please go toss yourself out of the highest window.”

“I can’t. I must insist on only dying by your hands.”

“Then death is near, husband.”

Eris chuckled, fingers stilling again as he pulled the last pin, watching as her hair cascaded down her back, desperately trying not to think about the feel of it between his fingers. “I’d believe you except you still need help with your dress.”

Iris rolled her eyes. “Once you’re dead, I’ll just tear it off, it’s fine.” she replied, watching his hands still inches away from her hair. “I’ll be a widow. They’ll think I ripped it apart in my grief.”

“Not that I ravished you and then died of bliss?”

Shooting him a glare, she held up the dagger. “Answer my questions. You owe me three.”

Eris rolled his eyes but with one final glance at her hair, he moved away, leaning against the vanity and faced her.

“To answer your earlier question, you must have heard about my brother Lucien and his former lover?”

Iris nodded solemnly. Everyone had heard about that. It was one of the many reasons everyone hated Beron.

“Well, I refused to participate and warned Tamlin about Lucien. Naturally, my father did not appreciate the disobedience,” he said, and Iris sat back in her chair, dagger still in hand.

“Is that why he didn’t come to the wedding?” 

“My father’s death will be the only reason Lucien would come here willingly,” he replied with a snort, crossing his arms. “He and his mate have invited us over for lunch whenever you’re up for it. You can meet them then.”

“Assuming I don’t slit your throat in your sleep, of course?” she said with a pleasant smile and Eris chuckled.

“Of course.” he replied with a gracious nod of his head. “Now answer my questions, wife. Tell me about your father.” he requested.

Iris pursed her lips, a finger stroking the edge of the blade. “My father...as charming as he claims to be with everyone outside of my household...Lord Aron thrives on control.” she began, running her free hand through her loose hair. “My mother’s death was not in his control. Having me was not in his control.” Iris met his gaze. “When my mother died giving birth...He loved her in his twisted way more than he wanted me so naturally, I was the worst thing that happened to him. Especially when he wanted a son.” 

“So, I assume he raised you with all the love he knew your mother would want you to have?” Eris said and the corner of Iris’s mouth curved up at the sarcasm. 

“Oh yes.” she said quietly, and her expression tightened. “Your back…?’ 

Eris waved a hand. “Gifts.” 

“But...why?” she asked quietly, her eyes locked on his. 

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I asked first.” 

Eris’s lips went into a thin line and he rubbed a finger to it, debating how honest he should be with her. Judging by the hardened look in her eyes, it felt pointless to deny it.

“They weren’t all meant to be mine, but I got in the way often enough.” he said quietly and at the way her face fell, he knew she was aware of who he meant. He watched her throat bob.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Iris replied and pushed the chair back, standing. “Help me with my dress. I’m tired.” 

Eris cocked his head and blinked. “Why?” 

“Why what?” she asked wearily, looking over her shoulder at him before facing the mirror and Eris frowned, unsure how to ask her to continue.

Why was he asking? He knew his family was miserable. Her life had clearly been the same. It didn’t help that his mother taking the brunt of his father’s abuse seemed to mirror the fear she likely had for herself with him. His frown deepened and Eris flexed his fingers. All these years with his parents had only solidified his stance to never harm a female. The only black spot on his record was Mor and the real story will always stay between the two of them until Mor decided otherwise. 

“Never mind.” he finally said and attempted his previous bravado. “It’s time to unwrap you, wife.” 

Iris narrowed her eyes at him through the mirror and slowly held up the dagger again. “One wrong move, Vanserra.” 

He chuckled, though it had lost some of its mirth. “I’ll behave.” 

With her eyes still locked on his, Iris moved her hair to the side and said nothing, though Eris noticed the tension had returned to her body. He glanced at her for just a brief moment then his gaze fell to her back and the ties holding her dress together. The white gown she wore hugged her figure snuggly — beautifully, and Eris appreciated the chance to admire it again.

Slowly, carefully, his hand found its way to the top and his fingers gently pulled on the knotted ties. 

He hesitated then.  

Eris knew he shouldn’t be nervous to help her with her dress. He had taken dresses off the bodies of many beautiful females in his life. This should be nothing. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly, and he looked up, meeting her eyes briefly before bringing it back to the dress.

“Nothing.” was all he said and focused on the ties. Carefully, he slipped his fingers beneath each ribbon tying the top together, and pulled to loosen them. Eris felt her stiffening as he made contact with her back, a small breath escaping her lips and he froze, meeting her gaze again in the mirror. Iris flushed and Eris’s eyes zeroed in on the bob of her throat. He lifted a brow and spoke softly, “May I continue?”

Iris looked away from him but nodded all the same and it took Eris a moment to tear his gaze from the flush of her cheeks and back to the dress. If this was the only time he was going to touch her for a while...it seemed wise for him to take his time. Wise to drink in the sight of the soft curls of her hair that fell to the side, the exposed long neck. It was the most skin he was seeing of hers and oh...the flush of color against her olive skin ignited a feeling of longing in him. 

A longing for something normal. 

Leave it to his father to find him a breathtaking wife who wanted nothing to do with him. 

Working at an even slower pace, Eris slipped one finger at a time between each ribbon of the corset and pulled gently, Iris backing into him with each tug.

“Don’t yank.” she said, a slight breathlessness to her words as she pulled away slightly, finally letting go of the dagger and bracing her hands on the vanity. “You’ll ruin it.”

“You have no idea how badly I want to, wife.” he replied softly and pulled the last ribbon treacherously slowly. Much to his agonizing dismay, she wasn’t wearing anything under it. 

Eris took in the bare skin that the dress exposed, from the top of her back down to the dip and he wondered if she could hear the pounding of his heart, and feel the heat of his gaze on her lovely skin – no scar in sight, unlike his own. Before Eris could stop himself, his fingers traveled down the bareness of her back and a shock zipped through his body.  

He heard her gasp and whip around, holding her hands across her chest to keep her dress from slipping and stared at him with wide eyes. 

“Don’t.” she whispered to him, but Eris could only stare at her. He stared and slowly leaned in closer, letting his hands settle on the vanity she was leaning against, caged between his arms. 

They silently stared at one another, a different kind of tension between them now.  

Eris stared, his expression stoic as he drank in every one of her features. The sharp cheekbones, the lovely nose, her parted lips. His eyes fell to the now exposed collarbones and he had to clamp down on the sudden urge to lean in closer and lick them. 

His amber eyes found her hazel ones, reading the mistrust in them, the hesitation — but he could only think of one thing to say. 

In the softest of murmurs, he spoke, “I don’t think I was given the chance to tell you how beautiful you are, Iris.”

Iris blinked and her flush deepened as she frowned slightly. “Thank you. You can back away now.” she replied and the corner of his mouth quirked up, leaning in even closer.

“But I would prefer not to.” he whispered, and Eris regretted standing there shirtless, positive she could see the goosebumps on his flesh that matched the ones on her skin.

“I don’t really care.” she whispered in return and Eris tilted his head in amusement, the space between their lips even closer. 

“But wife?” his voice still soft, barely above a whisper and Iris clenched her jaw, roses blooming on her cheeks.

“What?”

“I would really like to kiss you.” he requested, and was mesmerized watching the changes in her expression. The widening of her eyes in surprise, the attraction she seemed to be fighting, and lastly, when her expression hardened.

“No.” 

“No?”

"No.”

 Eris hummed in thought, unsure if he could hold back his smirk as she shifted between his arms. “Why?” he asked, the question practically a whine. “We are married after all.” 

Iris met his gaze, her eyes flicking to his lips for a second before she looked at him again. “You’ll only end up wanting more.” she replied quietly. 

“And is that so wrong?” he asked, his hand coming up to gently brush her hair behind her ear but froze when she flinched. 

His eyes narrowed, his hand midair as Iris flushed, glaring at him.  

Firmly, and not breaking his gaze, Iris lowered his hand to his side and held it there. “Don’t.” she repeated, and Eris pursed his lips. 

“Are you afraid of me, little gazelle?”

“Trust isn’t so easily earned.” 

And the two stared at each other, seizing each other up for what felt like the millionth time that evening. They shared a heated gaze, her hand still on his.

“I’m sure a kiss could persuade you to change your mind.” Eris proposed and leaned even closer to her.

 “You seem desperate, husband.” she replied and against every instinct, leaned closer to him as well. “The scent of your lust is filling the room.”

“You should be flattered.”

“I’m disgusted.” 

“The flush of your cheeks tells me you’re a liar.”

Iris rolled her eyes and finally shoved him away as Eris chuckled. “I am flushed in anger. Don’t think so highly of yourself. I’ve only known you for a few hours and you’re very annoying.”

“Why thank you, darling wife.” he said, and he only allowed himself a small smile before turning to watch her walking towards the closet. “Do you need additional help?” 

“No. I need something to sleep in.” she replied, a hand still holding up her dress, the other opening the closet door.  

“Oh, I took the liberty of choosing something for you to sleep in.” Eris said, running a hand through his hair, watching her. “It’s on the bed.”

His lips twitched slightly as Iris’s gaze moved to the bed and she blinked in confusion.

“There’s... nothing there.” she said, squinting at him and Eris waved a hand.

“Nothing will look fantastic on you.”

Her expression flattened and Iris looked to the dagger still on the vanity, far away from her and Eris grinned when she settled on flipping him off with a glare. “Go fuck yourself.” 

“I’d much rather fuck you, wife.” he said with a chuckle, and Iris’s glare intensified.  

“Keep dreaming, asshole.” 

“The tension between us will need an outlet, my dear Iris. Especially if this is our first night together.” Eris said with an exaggerated, long-suffering sigh. “I can’t imagine how much worse it’ll get the more we spend time together.”

“There’s nothing to imagine.” she growled. “Except sweet, sweet death.”  

“We can fuck this once and get it out of our systems. You can go back to hating me afterward,” he suggested, and Iris only glared at him once more before turning to the closet and rummaging through it. “No sense in denying it, hm?”

It took her a full moment of silence with Eris smirking at her back before Iris closed the closet door, sleeping clothes in hand. 

“Running a sword through your body will ease this tension you’re feeling.” 

“I’d rather we kissed aggressively.”

“If you keep this up, I’m going to make sure you die in the most embarrassing way possible.” 

“You mean when you murder me?” Eris said with a smile. 

“Yes.  When I murder you.” she confirmed. 

“You have your work cut out for you then. I’m embarrassed by very little.” 

Iris squinted at him then looked down at the clothes in her hand, her fingers rubbing the fabric gently. He watched her look at him, bite her lip, then look away and Eris’s whole body straightened. Slowly, Iris placed the sleeping set she chose for herself on the table closest to her and walked towards him. Eris focused on each step she took and then held his breath when she stopped in front of him. 

“Are you sure?” she said softly and very suddenly, she was closer to him than she had been all night, the weight of her body pressing into him.

“Am I sure about what?” he asked quietly, his hands flexing at his sides. Should he touch her? Or would it scare her away? She had said don’t.

“That it would be difficult for me to embarrass you?” she asked, finally letting go of her dress, bringing her hand so her fingers gently grazed his shoulder. Eris’s eyes zeroed in on the dip in her dress that had exposed the top of her cleavage.

“Hm?” he said stupidly, his eyes back on her face to find her smiling coyly at him and Eris blinked, fully aware of what she was doing. Of how her fingers were now slowly trailing down his chest and back up.

“Do you think,” she began and leaned close to his ear, her hand resting over his heart. “It would be embarrassing for you to die while at attention? Just before a release?”

Eris blinked. “What —”

Her hand went up and she flicked him as hard as possible right on the forehead. “Because I will have you so worked up, two seconds away from an orgasm thinking you’ve earned me, then stab you in the heart and leave you to bleed out if you don’t stop making inappropriate jokes. Keep pushing your limits with me, I dare you.”

Eris blinked rapidly, his hand coming up to touch the stinging on his forehead.

“Did you just...flick me? Like a child?”

“Didn’t know if your pretty face could handle a good smack, husband.” Iris replied, flipping him off once more then stomped away from him, grabbed her change of clothes, and slammed the bathroom door behind her. 

It took Eris a moment to realize that indeed, he now had a hard-on and a small laugh huffed out of him. Rubbing his forehead, he slowly walked to the bed and sat down, letting out another little laugh. 

This whole day had felt like he’d been dunked into a bucket of water repeatedly and then thrown into a pit of darkness. He felt disoriented with how quickly everything had changed and whiplash from his conversation with Iris. He was unclear of where they stood now. Where did he stand with her?

Eris thought back to the feeling of her between his arms, when she was only inches away from kissing him. He thought back to her flushed cheeks, the intake of breath when his hands had touched her back, her glares. 

He grinned broadly. Maybe being married wouldn’t be so bad. It was clear she didn’t really hate him. She was more worried for her safety. 

His smile immediately dimmed at that, remembering how she flinched when he wanted to touch her hair. 

He sighed then quickly stripped the bottoms he was wearing, changing into sleeping pants. Though he typically preferred to sleep in undershorts or completely nude, Eris had a feeling Iris would actually kill him if he wasn’t decent. Just as he finished hanging up his dress clothes, the bathroom door opened and his head snapped to her side, meeting her eyes. 

And oh. 

She was wearing sleeping pants and a shirt that was twice her size — meant for him. 

He raised a brow with a small smile. “Those...are mine, aren’t they?” 

Iris blinked at him then shrugged, walking to the vanity and grabbing the dagger. She pointedly ignored him as she walked past him.

“What’s yours is mine, is it not, husband dear?”

Eris smirked. “No lingerie for me then?”

“Knock yourself out if you’d like to wear some.” 

“You want to see me in lingerie, wife?”

“I’d much rather die.”

He chuckled and shook his head, watching her make her way to their shared bed, not wanting to think about her in lacy nothings. “Hm. I still think nothing would look best on you.”

Iris pointed the dagger threateningly at him. “My patience with you is wearing thin.”

And just like that, his new wife had climbed into their bed. 

It took Eris a few seconds to realize what she was doing as she crawled on the bed, as the first image of her on her knees had taken him down a very indecent road. He could only watch in amused silence as Iris started stacking pillows down the length of the bed between them. Iris only narrowed her eyes at him, as if daring him to laugh before turning to her side and laying down, the dagger sliding underneath her pillow. 

As if pillows would stop him if he chose to be a monster.

But he wouldn’t.

Eris frowned as he climbed onto his side of the bed and lay flat on his back, an arm under his head. He let a few moments of silence pass between them before he finally spoke. 

“Iris?”

He felt her shuffle and a few seconds passed before she replied.

“Eris.” 

“Tomorrow, we both have roles to play,” he began quietly and felt her still. “Everyone will be expecting it.”

“And what roles will that be?”  

“You, the shy new wife that had the life fucked out of her and is embarrassed that people know.” he continued, “Me, the sated husband who fucked the life out of you and got what’s mine.”

Iris shot up and glared at him over the pillow barricade. “The conqueror and the conquest, hm?” She spat, repulsed.

Eris sat up with an eye roll. “That’s what they’ll be expecting to see and I for one, live to meet expectations.”

“You’re disgusting.” 

“Not as disgusting as they’ll be expecting me to be with you.” he said with a scoff. “You’re lucky they stopped checking if couples consummated marriages the morning after.”

Iris frowned and looked away from him, her fingers fiddling with the edge of his shirt that covered her body. “It doesn’t have to be that way and you know it.” 

Eris was quiet for a moment. “No, it doesn’t but…it is in our best interest to play by the expectations so that no one looks too closely at us.” 

Iris tilted her head, her mouth a thin line. “Your father.” 

“And yours.” he said pointedly, and Iris swallowed.  

“But...I don’t want to be seen that way. I want to be me.”

“Unless you want them saying I fucked some confidence in you, you can’t change who they want to see overnight.” 

“Gods.” she scoffed. “Just taking all the credit for it, aren’t you?” 

He gave her a small smile. “I aim to please.”

Iris pursed her lips then scowled, shooting him a look full of disdain. “I could also seem disappointed which will clearly indicate you couldn’t perform, and your little wife was left unsatisfied.” 

Eris barked a laugh and lay back down on his back. “Oh wife, you are a funny one.” he said and felt her plop down on her side. “No one will believe that.” 

“My disappointment will be authentic enough, no one would doubt it.” She begrudgingly replied. 

Eris rolled his eyes. “You really sure you don’t want to just fuck this out? I’m sure we’ll feel better afterward and that way we’ll start off our marriage honestly.”

“One more word on this and you’re sleeping on the floor.”

“I am the firstborn son of a high lord.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“I’d be happy to. Just bend over, wife.”

She only raised her hand to flip him off and Eris chuckled. 

He waited a few more minutes in silence, listening to the slight shifting of her feet and the thundering of her heart. Despite her words, she still seemed to be nervous. A part of him couldn’t blame her. He wouldn’t want to be married to him either. 

He lifted himself on his elbows to peer at her over the pillow barricade between them and found her curled up on her side, her back facing him. 

And suddenly he found himself nervous.

“If it wasn’t clear before, I want to make it clear again,” he began, and she turned slightly to meet his eyes over her shoulder. “I have no intentions of hurting you. I don’t want this marriage to be miserable. Even if it’s what everyone’s expecting.”

She looked away from him for a moment then looked back at him once more. “Even with all the things you’ve said earlier?” 

“I consider it my civic duty to tease my wife.” he said and felt her eyes roll. “Among other things.” 

“Other things?” 

“I could also be your friend.” he found himself saying quietly, the tips of his ears heating as Iris flushed and turned away quickly. Eris felt his whole body burst into flame, his face flushing as he slumped back into the mattress, embarrassment coursing through him. 

He had threatened her. Tried to kiss her. Clearly would love to fuck her. And then like a complete and utter imbecile tells her he wants to be her friend. He suddenly felt blessed his bride was picked for him instead of attempting to woo anyone. He used to have some game.

Eris only stopped debating whether he should set himself on fire and be done with the misery he was feeling when Iris spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know if I can be your friend.” she said.

Eris paused. “Why not?”

“I’m still fantasizing about choking you.” 

“Mm. That’s a shame,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting at the absurd response. “I’m still fantasizing about kissing you.”

A moment of silence passed, and Eris turned his head slightly to find that Iris had sat up, her eyes peeking over the pillow barricade and she quietly said, “A question for a question.”

Eris sat up on his elbows again. “A question for a question.” 

She paused again, seemingly weighing her question then bit her lip. “Will you...would you ever force me? If I didn’t want to?” 

“Never.” he immediately responded. “I have no intention of being the monster people seem to think I am.”

He felt her relief sweep through the room and a bitterness curled in his stomach as he dropped back on his back and Iris hid back on her side. Why hadn’t he thought of a moment like this? Where his wife would think he was a piece of shit big enough to torture her in that way? 

“What’s your question then?” her voice carried over to him and Eris realized then, that he wanted whatever this was between them to work out. 

There was no need for it to be awful. They could make it work…right?

With his gaze locked on the ceiling, he swallowed and then quietly said, “Do you think you would eventually be willing to be my friend?”

And the difference in their questions struck him then. She wanted to feel safe. He wanted a companion. He glared at the ceiling as embarrassment washed over him again, threatening to drown him at how stupidly vulnerable he let himself be with her.

A stranger. Yet, not.

He waited for her to say something and when a few moments passed and she hadn’t, he sighed softly. Eris had almost drifted off to sleep when he heard her mumble a response.

“Maybe.”

He blinked sleepily and lifted himself on his elbows to peer at her over the pillow barricade between them one last time. “Maybe?”

“Maybe.”

Eris lay back and his eyes fell on the ceiling again. The atmosphere was still a little tense, but it had dampened down, not quite as suffocating. 

Maybe was good. They’d only know each other for a few hours. Eris found maybe to be very, very reasonable. 

“Goodnight, Iris.” he whispered then, hoping the night carried his wishes in the words.

A heartbeat later, the night breeze carried back Iris’s. 

“Goodnight, Eris.”

[ereardon]

In The Skies || Ch. 2

[Major John "Bucky" Egan x Reader]

Overview: On a night out in London, you meet fellow American Major John “Bucky” Egan of the 100th. As war rages on, you take a leave of absence during the spring of your third year at Oxford to sign up as a nurse on the front lines in England. Time and time again, you and Bucky find yourselves thrown together in the hospital ward as you tend to him and his teammates after missions gone awry. What happens when you find yourself falling for a man who might never return from the skies? 

Pairing: Major John “Bucky” Egan x Reader

Chapter summary: Six months after you first meet Major Egan, he shows up at the bedside of Sergeant Quinn who just happens to be your patient. Sparks fly, again.

Warnings: Smut, alcohol, cursing, definitely historical inaccuracies

WC: 2.8K

Masterlist here

“Nurse? Nurse!” 

Your head shot up, legs unfolding beneath you before you even realized, carrying you down the narrow hallway of the hospital, the floors squeaking beneath your shoes, a mixture of blood and urine and saline and muddy footprints all blurring into one. 

“It’s his leg!” You skidded to a stop in front of a man writhing in pain. 

“Morphine,” you said, nodding at the girl to your right who reached into her pocket, fingers returning with a small clear vial that you grabbed, driving it into the flesh of his thigh. The man let out a shriek, followed by blissful silence as you surveyed the scene. A severe bleed and a cracked tibia. The bone hadn’t shattered through the skin but you knew it was bad just by the way it was bulging against the flesh. “Over there,” you pointed at a gap against one wall. “I’ll get the surgeon.” 

They wheeled him away and you made your way through the maze of beds and walkways, eyes wide, a few strands of hair sticking to your temples. It was hot, too hot for how early in the year it was. Early June. You should have been graduating from Oxford. Instead, you spent your days nursing soldiers back to health, sending them back to the battlefield with missing limbs and poorly patched scars and wounds on their souls that would never heal. And somehow, it felt better than any degree ever could. 

“Dr. Peters!” Your voice rang out in the dingy corridor and the surgeon turned. He was short, with tight, dark curls and a pair of glasses that teetered on the edge of his nose. 

“Nurse,” he said, “what is it?” 

“Patient, Doctor, broken tibia.” 

“Are you sure?” 

You nodded. “Yes. I just did a visual exam, no x-ray, but I’m positive.” 

Dr. Peters eyed you. In the three months you had been stationed at Stoke Military Hospital in Devon, you hadn’t been wrong once about a patient. He knew that. The doctor sighed and put his hands in his lab coat pockets. “Alright. Show me this man.” 

***

“Y/N? Isn’t your shift done?” 

You shrugged, wiping your hands on a cloth before sticking it back in the pocket of your apron. “An hour ago, I don’t know. Still have to see Lieutenant Davies.” 

Anna raised an eyebrow. “I’ll see you at home?” 

“See you at home.” You rounded the corner and smiled. “Lieutenant Davies?” 

The gentleman on the gurney looked up with a grin. “Ma’am.” 

“How are you feeling tonight?” you asked softly, stepping closer. 

“Good as a man with one arm can be.” 

“You always keep good spirits. I like that about you.” 

“Go out with me, won’t you?” 

You laughed. “Now Lieutenant, we’ve been over this before. I don’t date patients.” 

“Won’t you make an exception?” he asked, brown eyes glittering. “Just this once? For all you know, I could be the best date you’ve ever had!” 

“Oh I bet you would be,” you said, ringing out a washcloth in a nearby basin and pressing it gently to his forehead, dragging it down the side of his face, washing his neck carefully. His soft eyes never left yours. “But that wouldn’t be fair to all the other men, now would it?” 

“Screw them,” he murmured and you laughed. “What do you say, darlin’? You and me, let’s get out of here.” 

You shook your head, dipping the washcloth once more and pressing it over his bare chest. “You’re forward, aren’t you?” 

“War taught me anything, it’s that we all die someday. Gotta make the most of every day that’s left.” 

“Amen,” you whispered, setting the rag down back in the pan. “I’m going home now. You be good, alright?” 

Davies grinned. “Aren’t I always, darlin’?” 

You chuckled, making your way down the hallway toward the doors when they burst open, a flash of night sky visible through the open doors before they swung shut. Everything in the hospital was a rush. Triage and move on. But you had long-term patients as well. Men who were there for days, weeks, even months. Ones who weren’t healthy enough to go home, and not whole enough to go back to battle. Men who had seen loss. Men who had nothing left to fight for. 

“Y/N?” A voice from your left startled you out of your thoughts. 

“Yes?” 

“Are you headed home?” 

“Just about.” 

“Can you do me a favor?” Jolene tipped her head to one side. “A patient in bed fourteen. Came in earlier today. Having a hard time sleeping. Think he just needs someone to sit with him and I’ve been here for going on twenty hours.” 

“Go home,” you insisted, practically pushing the girl out the door. “I’ll take it. What’s his name?” 

“Quinn.” She flushed. “Thank you. I owe you.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” You took a look around the room, spotting the bed that Jolene had mentioned. “Hi there,” you said quietly, inching toward the bed. “Lieutenant Quinn, is it? I’m Nurse Y/N.” 

The man who looked up at you was pale, practically ghostly. He had diminutive features, a small nose that curved upward, eyes that gapped at you from the hollows of his sockets. “Sergeant,” he croaked. There was sweat beading his forehead, his upper lip, the visible bones of his collar. “You’re promoting me.” 

You smiled, grabbing for a washcloth and pressing it to his forehead gently. “Sergeant Quinn,” you replied. “How are you feeling?” 

“Not bad, ma’am.” 

“Now don’t you go lying to me,” you reprimanded him. 

“Not good,” he said after a moment. “Feel cold. And dizzy. It’s like everything in my brain is static.” 

You pulled away the washcloth and sat down on the thin cot next to his leg. Quinn looked up, eyes wide. “What brought you here, sir?” 

“Got shot in the side,” he whispered. “Running from enemy fire.” 

“Are you a pilot?” 

“No, ma’am. I just fly with them.” 

“I met a pilot once,” you said. The memories of Bucky flooded your senses. The way his touch felt against your bare skin. The bristle of his mustache as he kissed you. You shook the memory out of your mind. You had been a different person, seven months before. Back then, war hadn’t felt so real. It was tangible now. It crept into every thought, it had made its way into every atom in your body. You were no longer a girl. You were a nurse. You were part of the war effort. 

“Oh yeah?” Quinn said, teeth chattering. “Maybe I know him.” 

You smiled. “Maybe.” You reached out, brushing one hand over his cheek, thumb stroking his sullen face gently. “Jolene said you’re not sleeping. How come that is?” 

“Every time I close my eyes,” he whispered, “I see them.” 

“See who?” 

“Them,” he murmured. “All the men we lost.” 

There was a type of pain in his voice that you hadn’t known until you joined the hospital. Now it was the only tone you could hear. It saturated every word that was spoken under this roof. “You try and sleep,” you whispered, settling down into the chair next to his bed and reaching out, taking his frail hand in yours. His was dirty, but yours was caked in dried blood as well. “I’ll stay here so you’re not alone.” 

“You don’t have to do that.” 

“Yes, I do,” you replied. “Now close your eyes.” He closed his eyes, and you did too. The next thing you knew, it was the morning and your neck was bent to one side. Your eyes opened, trying to place where you were. And then the scent hit. It was as familiar as the smell of the ocean or a new book. 

Death. 

Sergeant Quinn was asleep on the bed and you dropped his hand gently, standing up, careful not to wake him. He looked peaceful. You took a mental picture of him. That was the best you could do, you had realized. Remembering them at their best was the only way to make it through the hard days. 

The flat you shared with two other girls, both nurses, was small and tidy. You spent as little time there as possible. Not because you didn’t like it, but the only place that you felt at peace was at the hospital. Doing your part. Helping people. All of the trivial things that had mattered so much less than a year before had vanished. You stopped wearing as much makeup or caring as much about how your hair was set. You had given up pantyhose entirely. You were a different girl than you had been. 

Back at the hospital, the stench of decay and the sharp bite of stringent solutions nipped at your nose. At first it had been jarring. Now it was simply familiar. The hustle and bustle no longer felt out of the ordinary. If anything, laying down to go to sleep at night felt uncomfortable in its near silence. 

“Jolene.” You stopped the girl with one hand against her arm. She swiveled around. “How’s Sargeant Quinn?” 

She smiled. “Good. Better. Says you were the one who got him to finally rest.” 

“I tried.” 

“Few of his friends from his unit stopped by, but you should check on him. Think it would make him feel even better.” 

“I will.” You weaved around the corridors, past incoming traumas: soldiers on gurneys, soldiers limping, ones with bandages across their faces and arms and necks. Every one you gave a sympathetic look. “Sergeant Quinn,” you said, rounding the corner where his bed sat. 

Four heads turned. Three men in uniform standing in a semicircle turned and your eyes scanned them quickly before doing a double take, backtracking to the man on the far left next to Quinn’s bedside. His warm eyes flashed in recognition. 

“Y/N,” he breathed out and you felt your breath catch in your throat. 

“John,” you whispered. The room, so crowded and cloying and loud, suddenly felt very still and very quiet. Just you and Major Egan standing beneath a street lamp on a bitingly cold London evening. 

He stepped forward and you saw how even over the course of half a year he had aged. Tiny crows feet in the corners of his eyes. There was a hollowness, too. He placed your hands in his. “You’re a nurse? What about Oxford?” 

“I deferred my last semester,” you replied quietly, suddenly aware of all of the eyes on the two of you. “To help.” 

He smiled, his fingers squeezing yours. “So you’re the fantastic nurse that Quinn here won’t stop yammering on about.” 

From the bed, Sergeant Quinn blushed. “Bucky, I didn’t know.” 

You shook your head. “Nothing to know, Sergeant. Major Egan and I met a few months back. Looks like you weren’t lying when you said you were in good hands.” The memory of that one night with John brought a tingle between your legs. He grinned. 

“Are you working?” Bucky asked. 

“Always,” you replied candidly. “It never stops, you know. It’s a constant revolving door of injured men.” 

His eyes darkened. “I know.” His mouth shifted into a smile. “Take a walk with me.” 

“I have some patients to check on,” you whispered. “How long are you here?” 

“Few days,” he replied. 

“Meet me for dinner.” You listed off a restaurant nearby and Bucky nodded. 

He squeezed your hand one more time before dropping it. “I’ll be there.” 

You smiled at Sargeant Quinn. “Now I’m going to have to ask you boys to leave so I can clean the Sargeant’s wounds and replace his bandages.” 

Bucky and the two other men exited the makeshift room and you felt a shiver work its way up your spine. 

You had thought you would never see Major John Egan ever again. 

***

Normally time in the hospital sped forward, like a clock that was wound too tight. But waiting for the sun to set so you could meet Bucky felt like it was taking an eternity.

You were fixing a dressing on a soldier when Jolene popped out around a corner. “Y/N?” 

“Yeah?” 

She tipped her head to the side. “Heard there was a handsome Major here earlier asking all about you.” 

You tried to hide your grin. “Gossip.” 

“I love gossip,” she replied and you laughed. “Does that mean Lieutenant Davies is on the market?” 

You raised an eyebrow. “What happened to not getting involved with patients?” 

“He’s so charming!” 

“He is,” you replied, wiping your hands on your apron and standing up straight. “They all are.” 

“So this Major?” she asked as the two of you made your way down the hall. “How well do you know him?” 

“We only met once,” you said. “Just before Christmas, at a bar in London.”

“And?” 

You grinned and hid it behind one hand, faking a yawn. “And nothing. He’s a gentleman. He’s taking me to dinner tonight.” 

Jolene shrieked and a few patients turned their heads. You shushed her but it was no use. She was practically giddy. “God, you’re lucky,” she whined. “Ask if he has a friend, why don’t you?” 

“He has a best friend who is also a Major,” you said and her eyebrows shot up. “But don’t get too attached. He’s engaged.” 

She sighed. “All the good ones are.” 

“Not all the good ones.” 

Jolene squeezed your hand. “You go have fun. I have it covered here.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes. Go!” She practically pushed you out of the door. 

***

When was the last time you had dressed up? Worn something other than a blood-soaked apron and saddle shoes? 

When was the last time you had gone on a date? 

Probably at Uni, but even then the lines were blurry. Was studying together over a tea equivalent to a date? Or a formal where everyone was required to attend? You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt the way you did that night in Bucky’s arms. 

Safe. 

You were late, hair pulling out of the messily placed pins, the neckline of your dress slightly crooked. As you whipped into the restaurant, peering around, you spotted John with a grin on his face, his eyes planted on yours. 

He stood as you approached the table and leaned over, pressing his lips to your cheek, one hand on the back of the chair, letting you settle into it before he pressed it inward. 

“Hi.” There was something so sincerely innocent about the way he said it. Almost shy. 

“What brings you to town, Major?” 

“A mission,” he replied. “Or the end of one, I guess.” 

“Sergeant Quinn. He’s quite impressed by you.” 

“He’s a good guy.” 

“He said you’re the better guy.” 

Bucky paused before lifting his glass of wine to his lips and taking a slow sip. Then, “I’ve thought a lot about you. Since that night.” 

“Had to send a fellow American off to war the only way I knew how.” 

His eyes darkened. “It was more than that, Y/N.” 

“What are you saying, Major Egan?” 

Bucky tipped his head. “I’m saying I haven’t stopped thinking about you, sweetheart. That not a day goes by where I haven’t wondered if I would ever see you again.” 

“Must have made an impression, then,” you whispered. 

His eyes were glued on yours. “Go out with me.” 

You laughed. “We’re on a date right now!” 

“Tomorrow,” he replied instantly. “And the night after that.”

“Let’s see how the date goes first,” you replied, “before we go making plans.” 

He shook his head. “Don’t need to wait to know what I already do. Which is that you’re the woman for me, Y/N.” 

“John,” you whispered, a blush creeping up your neck. “You’ve known me a total of two days. You can’t say something like that.” 

“I was five years old the first time I saw an airplane,” he replied. “And do you know what I thought?” 

“That you wanted to be a pilot.” 

He nodded. “Yes. The first time I ever saw a plane I knew that’s how I was going to spend my life. In the skies.” 

“You based your entire career, your whole life, around one glance at the sky when you were a child?” 

“I knew in my heart, with every inch of my body, that it was what I was meant to do.” He paused. “It’s how I felt when I saw you again earlier today. Something clicked. Something said this was right.” 

“You have to give me a second to process this,” you whispered. “I haven’t seen you in six months. And here you are, saying what exactly?” 

His fingertips met yours across the table. “All I know is that I knew the first time I saw a plane that it was going to change my life.” His eyes met yours. “And that’s how I feel now, looking at you.” 

Tagging some people I think may enjoy this:

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