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The lights were off except for the soft glow of the TV. Some random action movie neither of you were really paying attention to played in the background—explosions, car chases, loud orchestral music. The couch had become a nest: your blanket thrown over both of you, Sunghoon’s long legs stretched out so far his feet hung off the end. You were curled into his side, head on his chest, one leg hooked over his thigh because he ran warm and the apartment always felt a little cold at night.

Your boyfriend had one arm wrapped around your shoulders, the other resting lazily on your thigh where it lay over his. His fingers traced slow, absent patterns on your skin under the blanket—up and down, sometimes slipping just under the edge of your sleep shorts before retreating again, innocent. Or at least that’s what it started as.

You were trying to focus on the screen. Really.

But then Sunghoon shifted. Just a small movement—reaching for his cellphone on the coffee table with his free hand. His torso twisted slightly, chest tightening under your cheek, and suddenly the sheer scale of him hit you all at once.

His chest has gotten so broad that when he stretched like that, your entire upper body felt small against him. The arm behind your shoulders flexed without him meaning to, thick bicep pressing into your nape. His thigh under your leg felt impossibly solid and warm, the muscle dense even through the soft gray sweatpants. When he settled back again, he pulled you closer without thinking, adjusting you like you weighed nothing.

“This movie is actually ass,” he muttered, already reaching for his phone on the coffee table with his long arm. He didn’t even have to sit up fully — just stretched, torso tightening under you again, and grabbed it effortlessly.

You hummed in agreement, too distracted by the way his body moved beneath you to care about the plot anymore.

He slid down the couch a little more, getting comfortable, his hips sinking lower so his long legs spread out even further. The movement caused his gray sweatpants to pull tighter across his thighs. You felt the shift immediately — the solid muscle under your leg flexing as he adjusted his posture.

Without saying anything, without even really looking at you, Sunghoon’s free hand slid under the blanket and found your waist. And then he just… moved you. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

His large hand gripped your hip firmly, fingers digging in just enough for you to feel the strength there, and he pulled you higher up his body in one smooth, effortless motion. Your leg that had been hooked over his thigh was now straddling his lap completely. Your chest pressed flush against his as he tucked you tighter against him, your face ending up buried in the crook of his neck.

He did it all with one arm. No straining, no grunting, just pure, casual manhandling — like you were a pillow he was rearranging for maximum comfort.

“There we go,” he mumbled under his breath, already looking down at his phone screen as he started scrolling. His thumb moved lazily across the display, completely at peace. “You were sliding down.”

Then he went right back to scrolling on his phone, thumb moving lazily across the screen, completely at peace. The faint blue light glowed against his sharp jaw as he read something that made the corner of his mouth twitch in amusement.

You, on the other hand, were spiraling.

Your entire body was now lying on top of his. Completely. Every slow breath he took lifted you gently, like you were floating on the rise and fall of a warm ocean.

You couldn’t see the TV at all anymore. Your world had narrowed down to the heat of Sunghoon's body, the clean scent of his skin at his neck, and the overwhelming size difference that was making your head spin.

He has gotten just so big.

The way your legs looked so short compared to his long ones stretched out beneath you. The way one of his hands could nearly wrap around your entire waist. How easily he had moved your whole body without even glancing away from his phone.

Heat kept blooming low in your stomach, heavy and insistent. You tried to stay still, but your fingers kept clenching and unclenching in the front of his hoodie, and your breathing had turned shallow and uneven against his neck.

Sunghoon kept scrolling peacefully for another minute, completely lost in whatever he was looking at. Then his thumb paused on the screen.

He tilted his head slightly, voice low and genuinely confused. “…Jagi? What’s going on?” His free hand rubbed your back in slow, soothing circles, still thinking you were just tired or cold. “You 'kay?”

You lifted your head just enough to look at him, cheeks flushed, eyes a little wild with frustration and want.

“Sunghoon,” you said, voice impatient and slightly breathless, “you just manhandled me like I weigh five pounds, put me completely on top of you, and now your thigh is pressed right between my legs and your hand is basically covering my entire ass and you’re just… scrolling like nothing happened.”

You kept going, the words spilling out faster.

“You’re getting so fucking big, one hand and you just slid my whole body wherever you wanted, I can’t even see the TV anymore. I can barely think because all I feel is how easily you can just… handle me.”

There was a beat of silence, then your boyfriend burst out laughing. Literally laughing.

It wasn’t a small chuckle — it was a full, deep, surprised laugh that shook his chest underneath you. His head fell back against the couch cushion as he laughed, eyes crinkling, the sound warm and boyish and so genuinely amused it made your ears burn.

“Jagi— really?” he managed between laughs, phone now completely forgotten on his chest. “That’s what’s got you like this?”

You glared at him, half embarrassed, half still ridiculously turned on. “Yes. And you’re laughing at me.”

“I’m sorry— I’m sorry,” he said, still grinning, trying (and failing) to stop laughing. One of his big hands came up to cover his mouth for a second, but his shoulders were still shaking. “I was literally just trying to make you comfortable. You kept slipping down and I thought— fuck, I didn’t think it was that, jagi.”

He looked at you again, eyes sparkling with a mix of fondness and newfound heat. The laughter slowly faded into a soft, dangerous little smile as he finally seemed to register the full situation — your flushed face, your quick breathing, the way you were gripping his hoodie.

Sunghoon’s hand slid lower again, resting heavily on your ass under the blanket, fingers spreading out possessively.

“So…” he murmured, voice dropping, “you really like it when I move you around like that, huh?” He gave a small, experimental squeeze, easily palming most of your ass with one hand, and watched your reaction closely.

“Oh my God, stop with the posturing right now,” you muttered, cheeks burning hotter.

Sunghoon’s grin widened, clearly enjoying this way too much.

“I thought you liked it.”

“Well, yes,” you huffed, “but not now that you know it.”

You twisted in his hold, trying to escape the overwhelming attention. You turned your body away from him, attempting to roll onto your side and face the back of the couch, hoping the embarrassment would cool down if you didn’t have to look at his stupid smug face.

But Sunghoon didn’t let you. His arm tightened around your waist instantly — that same big hand locking you in place like it was nothing. Before you could even finish turning, he shifted his weight and rolled on top of you in one smooth, fluid motion. The air left your lungs.

He was so heavy. Not crushing, but solid and warm and everywhere. His chest pressed you deeper into the couch cushions, completely blocking out the soft glow from the TV. His shoulders were so wide they shadowed your entire upper body. You couldn’t see anything above you except him — just the dark outline of his face, the faint shine in his eyes, and the way his damp hair fell forward slightly.

“Sunghoon—” you started, but he caught both your wrists in one of his hands and pinned them above your head against the couch.

You pouted hard, trying to tug your wrists free from his grip. You twisted and pulled, but his fingers stayed locked around both of your wrists with ridiculous ease. He didn’t even seem to put in effort — just held you there, smiling down at you like you were the most entertaining thing he’d seen all week.

“Let me go,” you whined, half-laughing, half-serious.

“Nope.” He shook his head, looking way too pleased with himself. “You tried to run away from me earlier. Can’t trust you anymore.”

Before you could curse at him again, Sunghoon suddenly got hit with a full wave of cuteness aggression. He dropped his head and attacked. First he bit your cheek — not hard, but enough to make you squeal. A playful, toothy bite followed by a loud kiss on the same spot.

“Sunghoon!” you yelped, laughing despite yourself.

He ignored you completely, too busy nuzzling and biting. He moved to your other cheek, biting gently before sucking a quick kiss there too.

“Stop— you asshole—!” you cursed between giggles, squirming underneath him, but that only made him press you down harder with his chest.

He moved lower, dragging his teeth slowly down the side of your neck before biting down on the sensitive skin there. Not enough to bruise (yet), but enough for you to feel the sharp edge of his teeth and the heat of his mouth. Then he soothed it with wet, open-mouthed kisses, sucking lightly.

You giggled softly, the sound slipping out before you could stop it. He kissed all over your neck — slow, hungry kisses mixed with little bites and nips, murmuring between each one:

“So small under me…” Kiss. “Can barely see anything except your cute little face…” Bite. “Fits so perfectly in my hands…” Kiss. “Love how I can just pick you up and put you wherever I want…”

You were a mess — laughing, whining, cursing him between shaky breaths.

“Park Sunghoon, I swear to God—”

He cut you off by biting your jaw, then immediately kissing the spot tenderly. His free hand slid under your hoodie again, palm hot against your waist, fingers spreading wide like he needed to remind himself how much of you he could hold at once.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark but still sparkling with that ridiculous fondness.

His thumb stroked over your trapped wrists as he leaned in again, hovering just above your lips. “Tell me how tiny you feel right now, baby.”

You stared up at him, flushed and frustrated, still trying to catch your breath after his attack of kisses and bites.

“I can’t believe this is foreplay for you right now, Hoon,” you muttered annoyingly, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “You’re literally pinning me down and acting like a giant cat with cuteness aggression and you want me to stroke your ego on top of it?”

Sunghoon’s expression shifted instantly. He looked genuinely offended, eyebrows pulling together as he stared down at you. “Ya,” he said, voice flat but clearly playful-offended. “Answer my question.”

You tried to hold back a smile. When you stayed quiet, just staring at him with a defiant little smirk, your boyfriend narrowed his eyes.

Then his eyes dropped.

Your oversized hoodie had ridden up during all the squirming and wrestling, and the collar of the shirt underneath had shifted. A delicate strap of your new bra was now peeking out near your collarbone — soft sage green lace against your skin.

He stopped mid-sentence, completely sidetracked.

Without any warning, Sunghoon used the hand that wasn’t pinning your wrists and casually tugged the hem of your hoodie and shirt upward, pulling both up halfway in one smooth motion. Cool air hit your stomach and ribs as he exposed the pretty bra fully.

“Hey!” you yelped, offended, eyes widening. “You can’t just— Sunghoon!”

He didn’t even look guilty.

His gaze was locked on your chest, genuinely focused now, the teasing completely forgotten for a second. His free hand stayed resting on your waist, thumb absently brushing the underside of the bra cup.

“Is this a new set, baby?” he asked, voice softer, almost distracted. He tilted his head, still hovering over you, eyes tracing the delicate lace. “It looks so pretty… the color really suits you.”

You stared at him, cheeks burning with a completely different kind of embarrassment now.

He was ogling. Not in a dirty way — at least not yet — but in that focused, slightly awestruck boyfriend way, like he’d just discovered something fascinating and needed to study it.

“Yeah… it’s new,” you answered reluctantly, squirming under his heavy gaze. “I bought it last week. Stop staring like that.”

Sunghoon finally looked back up at your face, but his hand was still gently touching the fabric, fingertips brushing over the lace like he was testing how soft it was.

“I’m not staring,” he said, clearly lying. “I’m appreciating. The green looks really good on you. Seriously. It’s soft too… is the whole set like this?”

You groaned, trying (and failing) to pull your wrists free again. “I hate you. You were literally in the middle of teasing me about my size kink and now you’re acting like a fashion critic because you saw lace.”

He smiled, slow and mischievous again, but his eyes kept flicking back down to the bra.

“Look, I'm just a man, jagi.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss right above the bra strap on your collarbone. “You should wear this more often. I like it.”

He smiled, slow and mischievous again, but his eyes kept flicking back down to the sage green lace.

“Look, I’m just a man, jagi.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss right above the bra strap on your collarbone. “You should wear this more often. I like it.”

You huffed, still half-annoyed at how easily he got distracted, but the way his lips lingered on your skin was making it hard to stay mad.

Sunghoon’s gaze darkened again as he slowly dragged his eyes up your body. He seemed to suddenly remember the position you were in — you pinned underneath him, wrists still trapped in one of his hands, hoodie and shirt bunched up under your chin.

The teasing smile returned.

“Fuck… look at you,” he murmured, voice lower now.

He shifted his hips, pressing his thigh harder between your legs, right against your core. The pressure was deliberate this time. You couldn’t stop the soft gasp that escaped you.

Sunghoon’s free hand slid up your ribs, fingers splaying wide across your skin until his palm covered almost the entire underside of your breast through the new bra. You let out a embarrassed, turned-on whine and tried to twist again, but he only chuckled darkly and pinned you harder into the couch.

“Stop moving like that,” he said, though his tone made it clear he loved it. “You’re making me so fucking hard.”

He finally released your wrists, but only so he could use both hands to shove your hoodie and shirt higher, completely exposing your chest. Before you could protest, he leaned down and mouthed at your breast through the lace, hot and wet, teeth grazing the fabric while his other hand squeezed your waist like he needed to feel how small it was.

“Hoon—” you breathed, fingers finally free to thread through his hair.

He hummed against your skin, sucking lightly before pulling back just enough to look at you. His lips were glossy, eyes completely blown.

“You wanted this,” he reminded you, voice rough. “You got wet the second I moved you like a doll. Don’t act shy now.”

In one smooth motion, he sat up on his knees, pulling you with him like you weighed nothing. He flipped you so your back was against his chest, your smaller body settled between his spread thighs. His arms wrapped around you from behind — one across your chest, the other sliding down your stomach until his big hand cupped between your legs possessively.

He pressed his hard cock against your ass, thick and obvious through his sweatpants.

“Feel that?” he murmured against your ear, biting the lobe gently. “That’s what you do to me. Just by being this fucking tiny.”

You moaned softly, head falling back against his shoulder as his fingers started slow, teasing circles over your sleep shorts. The TV was still playing explosions in the background, completely ignored.

Sunghoon kissed the side of your neck, slow and open-mouthed, while his hand kept working you.

“Tell me what you want, jagi,” he whispered, voice sweet but filthy. “Want me to keep manhandling you? Or do you want me to fuck you like the tiny little thing you are?”

He squeezed you tighter against him, emphasizing just how easily he could control your whole body.

Your answer came out shaky and needy:

“…Both.”

Sunghoon let out a low, satisfied laugh against your skin and tightened his arms around you.

“Good girl.”

The praise hit you low in your stomach. His voice had gone deeper, that lazy rasp he only got when he was properly turned on. One of his arms stayed banded across your chest, holding you flush against him, while his other hand kept slowly rubbing between your legs over your sleep shorts. The pressure was firm, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world to drive you crazy.

You could feel every inch of him behind you. His chest was a solid wall of heat against your back. His thighs on either side of you were thick and firm, caging you in. And his cock — hard, heavy, and insistent — pressed right against your ass, twitching every time you shifted.

He nosed along your neck, breathing you in.

“Lift your hips for me,” he murmured.

You barely had time to process the request before his hands were already moving you. He gripped your waist with both hands and lifted you slightly, pulling your shorts and panties down your thighs in one smooth tug. The fabric caught at your knees before he impatiently yanked them the rest of the way off and tossed them somewhere on the floor.

The cool air hit your bare skin, but it only lasted a second — Sunghoon immediately pulled you back against him, one big hand sliding between your thighs again. This time there was no fabric between his fingers and your pussy.

“Fuck… you’re soaked,” he groaned softly, almost like he was talking to himself. Two of his long fingers dragged slowly through your folds, spreading the wetness. “All this just because I moved you around a little? My tiny baby really has it bad.”

You whimpered, head falling back against his shoulder. He circled your clit with the pads of his fingers — slow, deliberate strokes that made your thighs tremble.

Then, without warning, he slid one thick finger inside you.

The stretch was immediate. Even one of his fingers felt big, especially with how worked up you already were. He pumped it slowly, curling it just right, while his thumb kept rubbing lazy circles on your clit.

“So tight,” he whispered hotly against your ear. “Always so fucking tight for me. Like your body knows how big I am and still tries to take me anyway.”

You moaned louder, hips rolling against his hand. Sunghoon chuckled darkly and used his other arm to hold you still, keeping you pressed tight against his chest so you couldn’t move much.

“Stay still, jagi. Let me play with you.”

He added a second finger, stretching you wider. The wet sound of his fingers moving in and out of you was embarrassingly loud in the quiet apartment, even with the movie still playing forgotten in the background.

You reached back, grabbing onto his hoodie, needing something to hold onto. Sunghoon rewarded you by kissing your neck and grinding his hard cock against your ass in time with his fingers.

“You feel that?” he asked, voice rough. “That’s how hard you make me. Just from being this small and pretty and easy to move around.”

He suddenly pulled his fingers out, making you whine at the loss. But before you could complain, he manhandled you again — flipping you onto your back on the couch like you weighed nothing. He settled between your spread thighs, pushing them wide apart with his hands.

For a moment he just looked at you, eyes dark, hair messy, breathing a little heavier. His gray sweatpants were tented obscenely.

Then he leaned down, shoving your hoodie and shirt all the way up and over your head, leaving you in just the sage green bra. He hooked two fingers under the front of it and tugged it down, freeing your breasts.

“Pretty,” he murmured, almost reverently, before leaning in and sucking one nipple into his mouth.

You arched into him with a gasp. His mouth was hot and wet, tongue flicking teasingly while his hand kneaded your other breast. The size difference was even more obvious like this — his large hand completely covering one of your tits, fingers able to touch around it easily.

He switched sides, giving the other the same attention, then started kissing a trail down your stomach.

When he reached your pussy, he didn’t tease. He licked a slow, broad stripe up your center, then wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked.

Your hands flew to his hair, thighs trying to close around his head, but he easily pushed them back open with those strong arms, holding you spread for him.

He ate you out like he was starving — messy, hungry, focused. The wet sounds mixed with your broken moans and his low groans of approval. Every time you squirmed too much, he tightened his grip on your thighs, reminding you how easily he could hold you down.

“Hoon— fuck— I’m close—”

He hummed against you and slid two fingers back inside, curling them perfectly while his tongue kept working your clit.

You came hard, back arching, thighs shaking in his grip. He didn’t stop, working you through it until you were whimpering and pushing at his head.

Only then did he pull back, lips shiny, eyes blown wide with lust.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and crawled back up your body, hovering over you again. The outline of his cock was straining desperately against his sweatpants.

Sunghoon leaned down, kissing you deep so you could taste yourself on his tongue.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing hard.

“Think you can take me now, baby?” he asked, voice husky. “Or do you want me to manhandle you a little more first?”

You barely managed a shaky breath before answering.

“…Manhandle me,” you whispered, cheeks burning.

Sunghoon’s eyes flashed with dark satisfaction. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he sat back on his knees, towering over you on the couch.

“Greedy girl.”

In one fluid motion, he grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your stomach like you were weightless. He pulled your ass up high, forcing you onto your knees while keeping your chest pressed down against the cushions. The position made you feel incredibly small — face down, ass up, completely exposed for him.

His big hands spread your thighs wider, thumbs digging into the soft flesh as he admired the view.

“Fuck, look at you,” he murmured, almost reverently. One hand slid up your spine, pressing you down harder into the couch. “So tiny like this. I can fit both my hands around your waist… and still have room.”

You felt the couch dip as he shifted closer. The sound of fabric rustling filled the air as he finally pushed his sweatpants and boxers down. His cock sprang free, heavy and hot, slapping against your ass cheek.

He rubbed the thick head along your soaked folds, teasing your entrance without pushing in.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, voice suddenly softer for a second, even as his grip on your hip stayed firm.

Then he started pressing in.

The stretch was intense. Even after his fingers and his tongue, the sheer girth of him made your mouth fall open in a silent moan. Inch by inch, he sank into you, slow and controlled, growling low in his throat.

“Shit… so tight,” he hissed. “You’re squeezing me so fucking hard, jagi. Like your pussy doesn’t want to let me in… but you’re still taking every inch.”

When he bottomed out, hips flush against your ass, you felt impossibly full. The size difference was overwhelming — his much larger body completely covering yours, his chest pressed to your back, one arm braced beside your head while the other wrapped around your waist, holding you in place.

He stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust, lips brushing your ear.

“Feel that?” he whispered. “I’m so deep I can feel your stomach bulging a little when I push in.”

You moaned brokenly, fingers clawing at the couch cushion.

Sunghoon started moving — deep, powerful thrusts that made your whole body rock forward. Every time he drove back in, his hips slapped against your ass, the sound filthy and loud. His free hand reached under you, pressing against your lower stomach so he could feel himself moving inside you.

Sunghoon started moving — deep, powerful thrusts that made your whole body rock forward with every snap of his hips. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the living room, filthy and rhythmic, barely covered by the explosions still playing on the forgotten TV. His free hand stayed pressed firmly against your lower stomach, feeling the way his cock bulged slightly inside you with every thrust.

“Fuck, jagi,” he groaned, voice rough but still carrying that familiar teasing edge.

You whimpered into the cushion, fingers twisting in the fabric as he drove into you again, harder this time. The stretch was overwhelming in the best way — he was thick, long, and unrelenting, making your thighs tremble every time he bottomed out.

“Too big,” you gasped, half-complaint, half-plea.

Sunghoon let out a breathy laugh, the sound warm despite how hard he was fucking you.

“Too big?” He slowed his thrusts just to grind deep, rolling his hips in filthy circles. “You’re the one who got dripping wet when I moved you like a doll. Don’t act like you don’t love how big I am now.”

He leaned over you completely, his broad chest pressing against your back, caging you in. The weight of him was grounding and overwhelming all at once. One of his hands found yours on the couch, easily covering it completely as he intertwined your fingers.

You let out a broken moan, pushing back against him despite your words. Sunghoon grinned against your neck and bit down gently, the same cuteness aggression from earlier creeping back in even while he was buried inside you.

“Brat,” he whispered fondly, then suddenly pulled out.

You whined at the loss, turning your head to glare at him over your shoulder.

“Sunghoon—”

But he was already manhandling you again. He flipped you onto your back like it was nothing, hooking his hands under your knees and folding you in half. Your thighs pressed against your chest as he settled between your legs, lining himself up again.

“This is better,” he said smugly, pushing back inside you in one smooth thrust. “I like seeing your face when you’re trying so hard not to moan my name.”

You slapped his chest weakly, laughing through a moan.

“You’re so annoying— ah!”

He cut you off with a particularly deep thrust, bottoming out completely. The new angle made you see stars. Sunghoon’s eyes darkened as he watched your face, drinking in every reaction like it was his favorite thing in the world.

“There she is,” he murmured, starting a brutal pace again. “My noisy girlfriend.”

The couch creaked under you both as he fucked you harder, his hips snapping against yours. Sweat was starting to cling to his skin, making his black compression shirt stick to his broad chest. You reached up, grabbing fistfuls of the fabric, pulling him down closer.

Sunghoon obliged, folding you even more as he kissed you messily. It wasn’t graceful — it was desperate, tongues and teeth, little laughs breaking through when your noses bumped.

“You’re laughing during sex?” you gasped, half-offended, half-amused.

“Can’t help it,” he grinned, nipping at your bottom lip. “You’re just so fucking cute when you’re getting railed. Look at you… all folded up and taking me so well.”

He shifted his weight onto one arm and used the other to press your thigh higher, opening you up even more. The change made him hit a spot that had you crying out, back arching.

“Right there?” he asked, voice cocky but genuinely focused on your pleasure. “Yeah? That’s my girl.”

Your hands moved to his shoulders, nails digging into the hard muscle there. Even now, in the middle of intense sex, Sunghoon couldn’t stop being Sunghoon. He kept murmuring little comments between thrusts — some filthy, some stupidly sweet.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight… my tiny pussy trying to keep me inside.” Then, softer: “You’re so pretty like this, jagi. Love you so much.”

The mix of his dirty praise and genuine affection made your head spin. You felt the pressure building again, fast and overwhelming.

“Hoon— I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he groaned, pressing his forehead to yours. “Come on, baby. Come for me. Want to feel you fall apart on my cock.”

He reached between you and rubbed tight circles on your clit, never slowing his thrusts. The combination sent you over the edge hard. Your orgasm crashed through you, thighs shaking, pussy clenching around him as you moaned his name.

Sunghoon fucked you through it, pace turning sloppy as he chased his own release.

“Fuck— you’re so tight when you come,” he hissed, burying his face in your neck. A few more deep thrusts and he came hard, hips stuttering as he spilled inside you with a low, broken groan.

For a moment, the only sounds were both of you breathing heavily and the distant movie still playing in the background.

Sunghoon stayed buried inside you as he carefully lowered your legs, letting you stretch out. He didn’t pull out right away. Instead, he collapsed half on top of you, careful not to crush you completely, and nuzzled into your neck like a big clingy cat.

“You okay?” he asked softly, pressing lazy kisses to your sweaty skin. The cuteness aggression was back in full force now that the heat had settled — he was gently biting your shoulder, then kissing the same spot.

You let out a tired laugh, running your fingers through his damp hair.

“I think you broke me.”

He lifted his head, grinning proudly.

“Good. That was the plan.” Then his expression softened. “But seriously… was it too much? I know I get carried away when you look at me like that.”

You shook your head, smiling up at him.

“It was perfect. Even if you are an annoying, smug giant.”

Sunghoon chuckled and kissed you sweetly, slow and deep, before finally pulling out. He grabbed the blanket from the floor and pulled it over both of you, tucking you against his chest like he always did after sex.

“You know,” he murmured, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back, “next time you get shy about your size kink… I’m just gonna remind you how loud you moaned when I folded you in half.”

You groaned, hiding your face in his chest.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, jagi.”

He laughed softly, pulling you even closer, the two of you tangled together on the couch as the movie finally ended in the background.

Sunghoon stayed buried inside you for a few more moments, both of you catching your breath. Then he slowly pulled out with a quiet groan, immediately reaching for the tissues on the coffee table. He was gentle as he cleaned you up, wiping between your thighs with careful strokes.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, almost to himself. His voice had lost all the teasing edge, replaced by that soft, low tone he only used when he was feeling protective.

You let out a tired hum, eyes half-closed. “That’s your fault, giant.”

He smiled and leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead before standing up. Even now, right after sex, he moved with that effortless grace. He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment and came back with a warm, damp towel and a bottle of water.

“C’mere, jagi.”

Without waiting for you to move, he slid one arm under your back and the other under your knees, lifting you easily into his lap. You curled into his chest automatically, still feeling floaty. He wiped you down gently with the warm towel, one big hand holding your thigh open while the other cleaned you with slow, soothing strokes.

“Too rough?” he asked quietly, eyes scanning your face.

You shook your head, nuzzling into his neck. “Hell no, I enjoyed it.”

He hummed, satisfied with your answer, and set the towel aside. Then he uncapped the water bottle and brought it to your lips.

“Drink.”

You took a few sips obediently while he held the bottle for you, his other hand rubbing slow circles on your bare back. When you were done, he took a long drink himself before setting it on the table.

Sunghoon pulled the blanket over both of you again and shifted so he was lying on his back with you draped completely on top of him. Your smaller body fit perfectly against his — your head on his chest, legs tangled with his much longer ones. He wrapped both arms around you, one hand resting possessively on your ass under the blanket, the other gently playing with your hair.

“You’re so warm,” you mumbled sleepily, pressing your cheek against his chest.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating under your ear.

“That’s because I’m a walking heater. Built for tiny girlfriends who get cold easily.”

You lightly pinched his side. “Stop calling me tiny.”

“But you are tiny,” he teased, though his voice was incredibly fond. He hugged you tighter, almost squeezing you. “My perfect little handful.”

You groaned but didn’t pull away. Truthfully, you loved being held like this — completely surrounded by him. His heartbeat was steady under your ear, and his body heat made the blanket feel almost unnecessary.

Sunghoon seemed to sense it, because he pulled you even closer, one large hand gently cupping the back of your head while the other rested possessively on your lower back. He pressed a slow, lingering kiss to the top of your head, then another to your temple, his lips warm and soft.

“You’re so quiet now,” he murmured, amusement coloring his tired voice. “Where’s the girl who was calling me annoying ten minutes ago?”

“Shut up,” you mumbled against his chest, but there was no heat in it. Your fingers traced lazy circles over his shirt, feeling the firm muscle underneath. “I’m recovering from you trying to fold me into a pretzel.”

He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling through his chest. “You asked for it, jagi. Literally said ‘manhandle me.’” He shifted slightly, adjusting you higher so your face tucked perfectly into the crook of his neck. “But I’ll be gentler next time… maybe.”

You pinched his side weakly. “Liar.”

“Only a little,” he admitted, smiling. His fingers continued threading through your hair in that soothing rhythm, slowly lulling you toward sleep. The rain outside had gotten heavier, creating a gentle white noise that mixed with his steady breathing.

After a long, comfortable silence, Sunghoon spoke again, softer this time.

“Thank you for letting me stay tonight. I know you had work to do.”

You smiled sleepily. “Worth it.”

He hugged you a little tighter, almost instinctively, like he couldn’t help it. “I love you,” he whispered against your hair. “Even when you’re pretending to be mad at me for being big.”

You let out a quiet laugh, already half-asleep. “Love you too, giant.”

Sunghoon stayed awake a little longer, just holding you, occasionally pressing small kisses wherever he could reach — your forehead, your cheek, the tip of your ear. Eventually his own breathing slowed, his body relaxing completely beneath yours as sleep finally took him.

The two of you stayed like that on the couch, tangled together under the blanket — your much smaller frame safely wrapped up in his warmth, the Sunday night feeling a little less borrowed and a lot more like home.

author's note — i didn't edit this btw. planning to write a proper hoon drabble soon bc i HATED this one >< but i did release it because size kink sunghoon was eating the worms in my brain lately and i had to get it out somehow. i know this is cringe ok bye <3

your room was as typical as it could get for a grade-schooler. you had a desk, a decent-sized bed, and the part of the room which used to be jeonghan's side now housed a plastic table complete with short-legged chairs for special tea time with your dolls, parents, or friends.

it did feel lonely now that your brother had his own room. he told you he was a growing boy and growing boys need their "privacy". you didn't know what that word meant. you just knew he enjoyed having it more than you mourned the loss of a constant nap-time companion.

"Y/N?" your mother's voice beckoned softly from the kitchen.

you stood up, running to her with a sun's worth of energy compressed into your four foot something stature.

your mom was the most beautiful woman you'd ever known long before you even knew how to spell or pronounce the word beautiful. she looked much like you, while your brother took after your dad. she was soft-spoken, calm, and would fit exactly right in the princess cartoons you always watched.

you hugged her leg, your face level with her tummy as she packed tupperware into a woven bag. "yes, mommy?"

she gave you a radiant smile before going on her knees so she'd be eye-level with you. "you know the nice grandma at the other end of our street?"

"mhm! the grammy who tells me i look like a flower!"

"yes, that grammy." she chuckled, "well mommy made too much dinner, so what do we do when we have too much?"

you didn't even need to think for how much they engrained the phrase into you and your brother. "we bless ourselves by sharing our excess with others!" you recited.

your mother proudly hummed and gave you a rewarding pat on the head before packing the wrapped container inside your bag. "you give this to the kind grandma, okay? if she refuses, then act as cuuuute as you can until she gives in. can you do that, baby?"

you nod and even enthusiastically bat your lashes at your mom to prove you can do it.

"good girl." she giggled and fished out a couple of bills before sticking it inside the front pocket of your denim overalls. "you can go get yourself a nice treat after, but be back before dinner time, okay?"

"okay, mommy." you replied sweetly. she led you out of the house, her hip pressed against the frame of the front door as she watched you jog out of the gate to the next location of your little quest.

your neighborhood had always been safe. you suppose that's what it was like when you lived in a community where everyone truly relied on each other. your parents knew everyone, and in turn, everyone knew of them too, including their devilish but bright little children.

you held on the straps of your hot pink backpack as you passed by mr. myeon's house, then old mrs. kwon's house. she looked mean, but let you play with her cats, so you assumed she still has some softness deep in her heart.

several other houses followed hers before you passed by the one you recognize: the house of the lee family whose eldest son was good friends with your brother. seokmin oppa.

unlike your brothers' other friends, he played along with you, even letting you put clips in his hair and always sung a song to your doll friends as a little performance before being poured a cup of tea!

you liked him a lot. he's like a disney prince: dreamy, tall, and handsome. you wondered if you'd marry someone like him when you're bigger. maybe then you'd be happy like your mom and dad. but they always said you had time for that when you're older, so you should be focusing more on studying and playing for now.

still, the thought of romance and your future husband lingered in your head as you skipped all the way to the end of that long road before you reached your goal.

you knocked your knuckles against the metal gate of grammy's house. you're a tad too short to be able to reach the doorbell, but it wasn't a problem because the grandma was quick to open the door.

the kind grandma was pretty. she had her gray hair into a neat bun, silver-colored baby hairs falling over her face as she looked down and gasped at the sight of you.

"little daisy!" she called out. you didn't know if it was a form of affection, or if it was because she didn't have the sharpest memory anymore, but she liked calling you little daisy despite you reminding her of your name multiple times already.

"grammy!" you replied, beaming bright. you gently dropped your bag to the floor, clumsy little hands fishing out the food your mother prepared before holding it up in your hands.

"what's this, little daisy?"

"mommy wanted me to give this to you. i don't know what it is but i know it's yummy!"

"oh—" she clicked her tongue. "why does your mom always insist on making food for me when i could very well make some for myself?"

"mommy is kind like that." you already sensed the older woman's apprehension, so you peeked behind the parcel and blinked your doe eyes at her with a pleading expression. "she just wants everyone to taste how good her food is, grammy! don't you want some?"

the grandma sighed, visibly softening from your adorable little pout. "i suppose she does make good food." she took the parcel from you and urged you to stay in place before she slowly went back inside the house.

after a few minutes of you being left by the gate, she came out with a tupperware of her own. "what's that grammy?"

"sweet rice cake. i made some for my grandkids when they visited yesterday, so you should take some home with you."

your mommy always said to refuse at first because it was the more polite thing to do. but you knew this particular grandma made some mean sweet rice cakes, and you couldn't pass up on the opportunity so you just presented your open bag to her with a wide grin.

she put it in, zipped up your bag and gave your cheeks a gentle pinch before sending you off on your merry way.

on the way back, you crossed the familiar intersection that led to the more open part of your neighborhood. taking a left would lead you to the road leading to school, the park, to the store that sold your favorite candy, and to the tall apartments of your friends.

the sun was still up and bright, and dinner time wouldn't come too quickly. you took one look at your house's gate in the distance, made a mental note not to be late for dinner, and headed for the park anyway.

you settled on a spot under a big tree. you picked a flower nearby and stuck it in your hair, freely enjoying the fresh air and the rays of sun that slipped through the shade provided by the leaves.

the place was relaxing until you heard a loud howling laughter from nearby. you didn't even bother brushing the dirt off your knees before investigating the source of the noise.

three boys were standing side by side, pointing and laughing at a smaller kid who could only stare at his foot.

your hands immediately curled into fists. your older brother always told you kids like that existed—the ones who would be mean just for the sake of it.

he told you that they're the ones whose parents didn't love them enough to be disciplined at home. despite that, you didn't really pity them. not when they're committing crimes against justice in broad daylight.

"come on! talk! are you mute or something?" the tallest one snorted, poking on the boy's shoulder.

"look, he's got weird black dots on his face too." the sidekick pointed out, snickering like it was something funny. the boy just stepped back but remained quiet, letting the trio make fun of his appearance. they poked fun at his moles, his body, his height—all of it getting cut off by a piercing shriek.

"hey! why don't you pick someone your own size?!" you screamed, throwing a mango-sized rock behind the group. startled by the sound, they looked at you while you stomped your way between them and the boy. you clasped his wrist, pulling him securely behind you.

"why don't you mind your own business, little kid?" one of them said, stepping forward. he towered over the both of you, no doubt. but you just puffed your chest out and tried your best to put on the most intimidating expression you could muster.

"why don't you scurry off before i pull all your hair out?" the boys laughed at your face and you growled in offense. "do you think i'm joking?"

"you're as short as a tree stump. so yeah, i'd like to see you try."

a tree stump? oh, he was really going to get it. you were damn ready to pounce, but the boy behind you just tugged on your wrist, quietly whispering. "just leave. i—i'm okay."

"no, you're not! what they're doing is not okay!" you shook him off and turned to the bullies again, scanning each of their ugly faces one by one. you gasped, pointing to the third one. "wait… you're seungcheol oppa's soccer teammate, aren't you?"

they looked of surprised, not expecting you'd be able to recognize them.

"how'd you—"

"i know your coach. actually, my daddy's close friends with him! and i know they'd both be very glad to know about what their little league players are doing outside the field. do you think they wouldn't kick you off for bullying a kid?" your calm threat seemed to be enough to knock off their confidence.

they started to step back, but not quick enough for you. "leave us alone, you bullies!" you screamed bloody murder, and that did the trick to get all of them scrambling away.

after they'd all ran off, you turned to the boy, only to see him crouching with his hands over his ears. "hey. did they hurt you?"

he looked at you with wide, teary eyes and shook his head, whispering quietly. "n–no. but you did. you're loud."

"oh, sorry! i just wanted to scare them off. i kinda forgot you were there." you bit your lip and offered your palm to him. "nice to meet you! i'm Y/N."

he reluctantly reached a hand out and you enthustiastically shook it before you clutched his hand tighter in order to pull him up.

woah. you were such in a rush to defend him that you hadn't noticed how cute he was. he was definitely more handsome than the boys in your school. he had fairer skin than most of your friends, made even more pale by the oversized white t-shirt he wore.

the shirt swallowed his lanky frame and had a cute little penguin patch sewn into it. the fact that it kind of looked like him made you smile wide.

he was pretty tall, too. a whole head taller than you, maybe. he's a little shorter than your older brother, for sure, but still pretty tall. even with his ugly slouch considered.

you ran behind him and gently punched his back.

"ow!" he whimpered, fixing his posture before looking at you with a frown. "why'd you hit me?"

"you need to stand straight, dummy." you huffed, "see! you're just as tall as those ugly bullies. you could've scared them off yourself. why were they picking on you anyway?"

"i... i dunno." he wrapped an arm around himself. "i looked like an easy target, i guess."

"you do look like one." you turned your back to him to go to your usual spot.

"h–hey! where… w–where are you going?"

you craned your head and waved your hand to beckon him to come closer. "it's hot here. come here! it's much more cool in my spot."

you guided him to the big tree and giggled when he kept a foot of distance between the two of you. you swiftly sat beside him, leaving little to no space before dropping your bag on his lap.

you fished out your barbie handkerchief and gently wiped the tears clinging on his long lashes. "you need to learn how to fight back eventually. you can't keep letting people say mean things to you. it isn't nice."

the boy just screwed his eyes shut, not used to such affectionate gestures—especially not from strange kids he'd met for the first time—but he let you do it anyway. "they were too big..."

"yes! but you can be as scary as them. i'm smaller than them and still managed to be even scarier. did you see how they ran off?" you giggled, folding the cloth once before wiping his sweat away next. "what's your name anyway? and how come i've never seen you around? what school do you go to? do you live in the neighborhood? gosh, you're probably from the next town over!"

he just looked at you with mild nervousness as you fired off one question after the next, and simply replied. "i'm from this town. i just.. don't like leaving my house."

you looked at the mostly empty park before turning your head back to him with a tilted head. "so why are you here now?"

he shrugged. "i dunno… i wanted to make some friends. but they—"

you cut him off with a wave of the hand. "ehhhh, don't worry about those lame-os. i can be your friend instead! nice to meet you, my name's Y/N!" you smiled wide and bright.

"you already told me." he muttered underneath his breath.

"what?"

"i said you already told me." he said once more, louder.

you only laughed while taking your favorite pen out of your bag. "you should really talk like that from now on. i can't hear you, you know? i think an ant would be louder than you."

you took his hand, not noticing how flustered he was from the physical contact. you slowly began to scribble your name on the back of his pale hand, materializing every letter of your name using the glittering purple ink. "there. i wrote my name down so you wouldn't forget it."

he looked at the letters, slowly mouthing out each syllable until he was successfully able to say your name without a single stutter. before you could ask him to write his name on your arm, he took his hand from you and sniffed it before sticking his tongue out.

you quickly slapped it away, gasping. "ew! what are you doing?"

"it smelled like grape juice, so i thought.." he trailed off, rubbing on his hand with pouted lips like a wounded puppy.

you clicked your tongue and dug your fingers inside your overall's pocket. you initially thought of saving the money your mother gave you and putting it aside for the polly pocket dollhouse you'd seen at the mall, but your new playmate looked quite thirsty.

"go buy us some juice at that store if you want one so bad." you ordered, pointing towards the stand right by the park's entrance. "i want orange juice. you can pick whatever you want."

he looked like he had gone through all stages of grief within a second, sputtering out incomprehensible noises before shaking his head. "i— n–no! can't you do it? or at least come with me. i can't do it a–alone!"

"yes, you can. you have to learn how to speak up for yourself, you know! besides, i know that uncle who sells them, and he's pretty kind. you don't have to worry. just say you want one orange juice box, and one grape juice box. a pretty simple task if you ask me." you stuffed the bill into his hand and crossed your arms over your chest with a proud smile. "go!"

the boy reluctantly stood up from his spot. you could tell he was hesitating, but eventually started to trail towards the juice stand while repeating "one orange juice box. one grape juice box." under his breath like he was practicing an important speech.

how weird.

how fascinating, too.

you liked him.

for about an hour, you spent your time with your newfound friend—pengoo, as you liked to call him—in the playground. you filled your stomachs with juice and the sweet rice cakes from the grandma.

pengoo was quiet, shy, and appeared to prefer the role of listener more than the talker.

you didn't mind it at all. it was refreshing because all of your friends never seemed to have a good enough attention span, always cutting in between your stories or purposefully shouting when they don't get enough of the spotlight.

pengoo, on the other hand, was attentive. he'd slowly take bites of rice cakes, only replying with hums or quiet random noises in between your stories to prove he understood them.

as a matter of fact, whenever you paused too long, he would look at you with his thick eyebrows raised like he was waiting for a continuation or a start of a new story.

and when he did talk, he had this endearing voice: soft, sweet, and with a specific intonation that made him sound like he was constantly whining or begging for something.

you soon grew restless of sitting around and yapping, so you asked him to play tag with you. after that, a game of red-light-green-light. then, a frustrating game of hide and seek.

playing against someone one on one in a medium sized park was already hard enough, but being the seeker when the other person's default setting is already to be quiet and undetectable was borderline impossible.

"wait, pengoo! i'm getting bored of this. can we play on the swings instead?" you whined, stomping your feet.

pengoo emerged from underneath on of the sturdy plastic slides and smiled softly, nodding his head. "okay, no more hide and seek. i'll push?"

"no. i want to push you!" you grinned, running to the swing set and pushing the sleeves of your inner shirt up your shoulders. "don't underestimate me! i'm much stronger than you think."

pengoo, half-amused and half-intimidated by the determination in your stance, reluctantly sat on the curved metal seat before holding on the coarse fiber of the rope suspension. "okay. just don't hurt yourself."

"i told you i'm not going to!" you huffed, gently pushing his back. he didn't know it yet but you already had an evil plan brewing in your mind. if he's so determined to be quiet, then you're just going to have to force the loudness out of him.

he started to swing back and forth. he'd been quiet, letting his feet dangle off the ground but as the swing started gaining momentum, his grip on the rope started to get tighter. "Y/N… i think you can stop pushing me." he whispered.

you deliberately ignored his words, giving him another strong push on his back as his figure swung back towards you.

"Y/N? i said you can stop pushing!" he said again in a louder tone which you ignored. again.

"Y/N! it's t–too high! stop!" he squeaked but you just wouldn't let up and when he could feel himself lifting way too high, torso almost parallel to the ground, he screamed as loud as he could muster.

"STOP!"

it was then that you gripped on the rope, using your own body to weigh the swing down and stop it from swaying.

pengoo eventually stepped off, but the adrenaline from the whole encounter had his legs weak and he stumbled, falling flat on his butt on the ground.

you erupted in a loud, boisterous laighter and followed beside him, lying down with your head on his lap so he wouldn't feel so alone. "you should have seen your face! you looked so scared, pengoo. gosh. but that was nice, right?"

"no! it wasn't! you're crazy!" he huffed, squeezing your cheeks together as a payback of sorts.

you let him do it, laughing even more heartily at the loudness of his voice. "it was nice for me. that was the loudest you've ever been this whole time."

"if you just wanted to make me shout, you could have said so. not put my life at risk. i could have broken a bone or something."

"oh, don't be dramatic. i fell from a tree last summer and only got a sprain on my ankle." you nonchalantly replied, burying your face in his stomach. he giggled at the ticklish feeling of your nose against his tummy but never made any big movement to shoo you away.

you let out a soft sigh of exhaustion as you spread your arms out wide, head still comfortably perched on pengoo's lap. your eyes look up at the dark blue and orange hues beginning to paint the sky when it dawned on you.

it's almost dinner time.

"oh no!" you squeaked, running to your bag hurriedly.

sunghoon, confused, stood up and ran after you. "Y/N? what's wrong?"

"mommy told me to be back by dinner time! i— ugh, she's going to be so upset." you stuff all your belongings back in your bag, hurriedly hauling one strap over your shoulder before facing pengoo. you took one good look at him before taking hold of both of his shoulders. "you. me. hide and seek rematch. here. tomorrow. okay?"

pengoo nodded his head slowly, stammering. "o–okay. tomorrow."

"tomorrow." you hummed and gave him a tight bear hug which he was barely able to return before you began running off, ocassionally looking back whilst waving your hands in the air. "bye bye, pengoo!!"

standing there on the playground, alone again, sunghoon could only whisper a bittersweet goodbye under his breath as he waved back.

"angel? what're you smiling about there?" sunghoon's head peaked from behind the doorframe of his father's study, thick eyebrows raised as he watched you giggle while holding a photo book.

he recognized it immediately. it was his childhood photobook.

"wh—fuck, you weren't supposed to snoop!" he grunted, large strides making quiet stomps as he quickly snatched the photo book away from you.

the both of you were spending the semestral break over at the parks' rest house (upon his mothers' insistence.) you weren't intending to snoop, but mr. park allowed you to come to his study to entertain yourself should you ever get bored, and you took that chance without knowing a treasure trove of valuable memories in the form of tiny sunghoon would be hidden in between his nice collection of classic literature.

"come on, babe. it's nothing auntie hasn't already sent to our group chat anyway." you muttered, tapping the tip of his nose. "i was just happily taking a trip down memory lane, that's all."

sunghoon raised an eyebrow once more. you took the book from him and flipped to the page where a rectangular photo was pasted of him wearing the same white penguin patched shirt. "remember this shirt? the one you wore to the playground that day?"

your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you from behind and hooked his chin over your shoulder, the tip of his nose brushing against your neck. "of course i do. i remember your white shirt and denim overalls very clearly, too. and the pink flower you had in your hair when you screamed at those kids."

you both laughed at the memory.

your finger traced little sunghoon's face over the protective plastic film, sighing softly.

it still felt unreal.

you'd both grew up in different cities, partook in different interests, and dated different people. you both made mistakes, went through heartbreaks and hardships that shaped the adults that you were now.

in the middle of that process, you met each other once more.

the same friend you lovingly called cookies and cream in that small-town playground a little less than two decades ago, was now behind you, twice as tall, yet still offering you warmth and affection with the same innocence and child-like naiveté.

if you had turned down your mother's order that day, or gone home after giving the grandma your mother's food, or if you chose to ignore the noise of those soccer kids, would you still have met him?

what if you'd been more attentive that first day in freshman year and avoided the pole, would sunghoon still be in your life?

"do you believe in fate? you know… the red string theory and those silly things they say on the internet."

sunghoon took a while to answer, his handsome face scrunching up before it softened into a smile. "would you make fun of me if i said yes?"

you gasped. "of course not. i believe in it! i'm just curious if you feel the same way about that superstition."

"if i were to speak logically, i'd say everything's just a direct result of our actions and a little bit of luck. but i'd be lying if i said that this little guy," he muttered, pointing to himself in the picture. "—didn't pray to whatever powerful being was up there just to be able to meet his special little friend again. and i don't know if it's fate, but i'm damn thankful that it brought you back to my arms."

you grunted underneath your breath, that familiar heart-swelling, overwhelming affection you have for sunghoon pushing out the waterworks. opting to hide your teary eyes from him, you close the book shut and pressed it against your face. "you and your cheesy monologues are so annoying."

sunghoon laughed heartily, taking the book from you and putting it back on the shelf. "you asked and i just answered, angel. not my fault you're so in love with me that my honesty brings you to tears."

"i don't know.. i suppose i'm just really happy we somehow found our way back to one another after everything that happened." you whispered softly.

sunghoon held your head, encasing your smaller one in between both of his. "i was looking forward to that hide and seek rematch, you know. i went back to that playground before we left that town, hoping i could at least get you to remember me. write my name on your hand, or something."

"i visited the park that afternoon."

"i was already headed to seoul by then. but that doesn't matter because this would have been our ending either way: me and you. together." sunghoon guided your arms around his neck before placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

"you really think so?"

sunghoon hummed, leaning down to steal another kiss from your lips. "i know so. what i think, is that i loved you before i even knew what love was like." his warm breath mingled with yours as he spoke through a smile, "and that might be a stronger force than whatever string's pulling us together."

PERM TAGLIST. ➤  @mariegibeau @kristynaaah @ikeukiss @zerocoded @alex-is-sleeping @ntxs1 @angelhyuka @tsukheeshima @clxssy1997 @cripplinghooman @xoxo-seraphine @1800aegi

You know exactly when it’s coming because his gaze starts to linger on your throat, his dark eyes darkening just a fraction more as he tracks the pulse beating right under your skin.

You’re his personal bloodbank, but it’s never felt like a chore or some clinical arrangement to you. In fact, you crave it just as much as he does because the sheer intimacy of it is completely unmatched. There’s something so addictive about the way he handles you during those moments you’re the most precious, fragile thing in his world, yet his survival literally depends on you.

When he leans in, his cool breath fans over your skin, making you shiver before his lips even touch you. He always takes his time, peppering soft, worshipful kisses along your jawline, coaxing a needy sigh out of you. And then there are his fangs. God, you are obsessed with his fangs. When he nuzzles into your neck, the sharp, dangerous tips graze lightly against your skin, a teasing ask for permission that makes your heart absolutely race.

"Princess," he’ll mutter against your skin, his voice dropped to that gravelly register. "Can I?"

You don't even answer with words, just tilt your head further back, gripping his shoulders to pull him closer.

The moment his fangs sink in, it’s not even painful—it’s just a sharp jolt of pure heat that spreads through your entire body. Sunghoon groans softly, his strong arms wrapping securely around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. He drinks slowly, his hands gently stroking your back to keep you grounded as a sweet, heavy languor settles deep into your limbs.

But your absolute favorite part comes right after.

When he’s finally satisfied, he licks the wound clean with agonizing slowness, his supernatural healing kicking in to soothe the ache. And then he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes slightly hooded, his lips flushed a stark, beautiful red. He leans down to kiss you properly, and the sensation of his sharp fangs catching gently against your lower lip during a deep kiss is enough to make your knees completely buckle. He tastes of you and he kisses you like a man possessed—like he’s trying to pour every ounce of his gratitude and devotion directly into your mouth.

By the time he finally breaks the kiss, he’s tucking your head securely under his chin, wrapping his arms around you so tightly there’s no space left between you.