established relationship, use of “baby”, angst if a big disagreement is considered angst, comfort, age gap (undergraduate!reader/medstudent!sunghoon)
3,699: WC < 06
I have reqs for angst but Idk what angst is if it isn’t someone dying 😭
“How long do you think it will take before you and I are married?” He asks lazily, rubbing your ring finger between his thumb and pointer.
Excuse you?
“Is there a specific timeline you want to follow? We just celebrated our second year together, so maybe in the next year?” He continues, moving his head up slightly so it’s resting with yours.
You don’t want to have the conversation, not now, maybe not even for the next few years.
Where is any of this even coming from?
The thing is, you might be too young to have this conversation, but he’s actually at the age where it’s important that he thinks about it.
But you and Sunghoon have always had similar mentalities; so where does marriage and everything that it comes with fit into the lifestyles of two future doctors?
“Uhh…I don’t know…” you shrug, pulling your hand back slowly as you keep your head angled down.
You suddenly regret having chosen to lie down facing him now; you don’t want to look at him for this.
“What?”
There it is.
There’s the disappointment you expected to hear.
“Can we not talk about this right now? I’m tired, I want to go to sleep.” You ask, turning away from him onto your side.
Actually, no.
You can’t talk about this another time.
“You can’t just say something like that and then stop the conversation there-“ he sits up as he insists on it, seeing nothing but your back for a bit.
You come up on your elbows, some of your hair falls forward over your shoulders and you have to tuck it behind your ear to face him the way you wanted to.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve mentioned this.” You remind, “you know exactly what my plans are for the next few years until I graduate.”
“I probably agreed with you then—I mean, are you really telling me that after two years, nothing has changed?” He asks.
“No.” You answer much quicker than you mean to, and it doesn’t help.
“What difference does it make whether we’re married or not?” You suggest, “is there some kind of trial? Would we break up if we weren’t married after three years?”
“It’s more than that, and you know that.” He says, his brows creased tightly.
“And you can’t wait?”
There’s a small pause between then and when the words settle in his ears.
“Is it really so urgent that I can’t at least get into medical school before you throw this on me?”
“Throw this on you?” He repeats, backing up slightly. “I’m telling you I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and you take it as some kind of burden?”
You run a hand over your face, sitting back on your heels to take some of the weight off your arms.
The break gives you both something new to focus on; something the other insinuated that only registered after you had time to process it.
“You want kids?”
“You don’t want kids?”
And somehow, it’s the exact same thing and said almost at the exact same time.
“Of course I want them…with you.” He admits.
The way his voice softens with vulnerability makes it hard to continue, but you know it’s necessary.
“It’s not a you and me thing.” You say carefully, “I mean…it is, because it involves me…but my wish to not have them has nothing to do with you, or our relationship.”
Now that it’s out in the open, you try to focus on making sure this doesn’t become a rift between the two of you.
“We’re not like other people—the things we want to achieve, they can only be done if we focus on ourselves.” You add, leaning forward to get a bit closer to him.
“We can compromise on the marriage thing.”
“Maybe once we have the positions in what we want, we can revisit the children thing—but do you really want to be almost 35 and having children just when your career has started to stabilize?”
You’re not on the same level as him—that much you’ve made clear.
But why is it so easy for you to belittle his wants and needs by calling them things?
Why do your ideas take priority over his?
“I can’t…” he hesitates, shaking his head a bit as he looks down at the gap between the two of you.
Can’t what?
Believe it?
Do this?
Understand it?
Come on, Sunghoon, finish your sentence.
“Hoon,” you call out, watching him back up until he’s closer to the edge to get up on his feet.
“I need to think about this.” He says simply, grabbing his phone and disconnecting it from his charger before he starts walking away.
“Sunghoon.” You’re firmer this time, using his full name in a way you aren’t used to.
You stay still, waiting, thinking he wouldn’t get far and return even if to argue.
Instead, you sit still; only coming up on your feet when you hear the front door open and close.
You don’t even waste time putting shoes on.
Yet by the time you’re peeking your head out the door, Sunghoon isn’t even at the end of the hall—he’s completely gone.
You step back inside, finding his keys missing from the bowl on the rack near the door.
What did he mean by “think” about it?
Why does that entail taking his car with him?
Hours pass, and you wait in the living room; wanting to catch him the minute he gets his foot in the door.
And just as you start to worry now that it’s getting closer and closer to 1 in the morning, you finally get a text from him.
hoon: I’m staying with Jay tonight.
You expect more; maybe an explanation as to why he’d spend the night with a friend so suddenly after what happened.
But he doesn’t even try to type out another message; as if he wrote this, sent it, and turned his phone off.
you: please come back
you: we don’t have to talk about it again tonight
you: you don’t have to stay anywhere else
Of course, your messages aren’t replied to.
And after 10 minutes, it becomes clear that he doesn’t intend to read them, much less return.
₊‧⁺♱ ──
Jay lives alone; no roommates and he has a penthouse so entire floor his space is on belongs to just him.
It belonged to his dad whenever he did business in Seoul, and when Jay moved here for school he gave it to him.
So Jay has all this space for no reason.
It used to give the guys a place to crash on late nights or when they used to throw parties here.
Now, it’s keeping Sunghoon while he hides from his girlfriend.
Which is actually a first, seeing as none of the guys have had relationships like him.
And as nosey as the guys are, it’s not just the space Jay is giving Sunghoon; it’s his opinion and his ear.
“It’s not like I said I wanted her to quit school— all I did was tell her what I wanted it for us—“ Sunghoon says, standing on the fine line between staying upset and actually crying.
Jay sits on a desk chair near the bed; reclined as far back as he can while his hands are tucked behind his head for cushion.
You’d think he isn’t paying attention, but actually he’s trying to find the nicest way to tell his friend that he couldn’t have expected anything from someone younger than him.
“You should have seen her,” he continues, “like it was so easy for her to just say no without actually hearing me out.”
Jay won’t mind if Sunghoon starts crying, but it’s going to make it hard to snap any sense into him if he does.
Jay would never speak plainly or rudely then; he’s not an asshole.
“I’m allowed to want more than what we originally planned on—things change—“ he says, his voice shaky as his eyes start to water.
Jay sighs softly, straightening up slightly as he pats Sunghoon’s shoulder.
“Maybe you guys just need a break.” Jay says, officially giving up on any chance of a reality check as he decides to let his friend sleep in peace.
“You don’t want to break up, right?” He prompts, standing up slowly.
That thought hadn’t even crossed his mind, and now that it had, Sunghoon was worse for it.
“Of course not—“ he agreed, tears falling as his throat starts to lump up.
Real smooth, Jay.
“I’m sure she doesn’t either.” He follows up, getting back to his original point, “take some time apart. She’ll see she can’t live without you, and you can talk about it again after you’ve had enough time to really think about it.”
Time apart?
Sunghoon just said he didn’t want that.
How is a break any different from an actual break up?
“I’d say a month is a good amount for this.” Jay adds, watching Sunghoon stop for a moment as he looks up at him with his brows furrowed.
“A month??” He repeats.
“That’s what you’ll tell her,” Jay corrects slightly, “just to scare her.”
Sunghoon considers it for a moment; maybe it would work, maybe it might make things worse.
But don’t all things have to get worse before they get better?
So he agrees.
And he uses the two days in the weekend to soft-launch you into the bomb he’ll drop on you that following Monday.
You share locations, and that’s about all the comfort you get during those two days.
If it’s really with Jay that he’s staying, he hasn’t left his apartment since he got there.
His contact bubble moves around the space, but never outside of it, not even a buffer in the hall before it returns.
You don’t like making your relationship other people’s business, so you keep to yourself for those two days.
You don’t cry.
You don’t worry.
What could you have to worry about?
The few arguments in the last year have been over things out of your control—things that could have an impact because they’re unpredictable—but even those had no lasting effects on your relationship.
Maybe you stepped on him a little.
As long as you remind him that you’re not going against him for no reason and can compromise, things can work themselves out.
You’ve even thought about it briefly; as long as you get into med school and get through your first year, you’re more than willing to get engaged then.
It’s less than two years away, and by then you’ll be at a more respectable age and have more time to think about the extent of your futures.
So when you finally see his bubble move, you’re hopeful.
And you feel a bit better when you watch it move around and make its way to your complex.
You might be a little too eager; standing in the entranceway as he starts unlocking the door.
But it’s fine, right?
“I think we need a break.” Breaking the silence with this was definitely a choice, but he can’t exactly take it back now.
The words don’t register right away.
He’s finally back after two entire days of nothing, and he needs more time to himself?
“What?” You ask, a lagged reply with an expression that forms after you speak.
“Jay thinks—” he begins,
“I’m not dating Jay.” You interrupt, “Jay doesn’t get to have an opinion on something that he’s not involved in.”
You’re frustrated now; you didn’t argue at first, and you gave him the space he asked for when he left.
So yeah, if you want to raise your voice and be harsh, you’re going to.
“Jay thinks it’s the only way through this without breaking up,” he repeats himself, this time getting through his entire point.
You laugh, hand coming up over your mouth before it slides down your neck and around it, rubbing the back of it as you process.
“Do whatever you want.” You scoff, “you better be gone by the time I get back.”
You push past him, bumping shoulders before you come off the apartment floor and onto the floor mat where you change shoes.
He stands there with his back turned to you, a small sigh as he waits for you to leave before he packs his things.
It takes him 20 minutes; he doesn’t take absolutely everything, but if he’s going to be gone for an entire month, he’s going to need a lot.
It doesn’t feel good to end up with a nearly empty bedroom, but he doesn’t want to argue with you again if you get back while he’s still here.
And he leaves despite not wanting to; packing everything into his car and waiting for a bit as he considers whether he really wants to do this or not.
In the end, he decides for it; and you watch from your car—parked only spaces away from his—as he pulls out of the space and drives off.
You saw the hesitation, so you waited a bit to see if he’d come back.
Instead, you’re walking back to your apartment after 10 minutes; alone and with the strangest mix of anger and sadness settling in your stomach.
He texts you again later that same night, explaining the break just a little more.
He had the audacity to set rules in addition to deciding how long it would last on his own;
An entire month where you’d live separately and have no contact; not through the phone, not in person, and not through someone mediating.
You block his number then; the most likely thing is that you’ll forget about the rules and text him, and you’d rather not be the one to do it.
₊‧⁺♱ ──
By the time Sunghoon returns, Jay is already back from work and cooking dinner.
He sees the bags and Sunghoon’s solemn expression and decides to leave him alone for now.
It’s not something either of them truly acknowledges; it’s just the understanding as Sunghoon walks right past him and into the room Jay gave him.
Jay might not make Sunghoon feel uncomfortable in the traditional sense, but Sunghoon doesn’t feel like he can do as he would like to.
He’d like to wallow and rot in his bed to try and make time move faster, but he’s a guest in someone else’s home, so he can’t.
He treats Jay to things as a form of appreciation: takeout whenever Jay doesn’t feel like cooking; beer on Friday and Saturday; and he’s hung out with him and Jake twice.
If you knew what he was doing, you’d think he’s enjoying his time away from you, but inside he’s miserable.
And it shows only when he’s drunk; suddenly growing distant from the guys as he thinks about you until one of them asks and he admits that he misses you.
Once Jake found out and heard the entire thing, he felt Jay was the wrong person to have gone to.
Jake believes Sunghoon shouldn’t be left alone with his thoughts and needs distractions.
They go to a club once and Sunghoon managed to escape from them to hide out in the car while he looked through his pictures.
Jay catches him in this, and he goes on to see it a few more times after, and it’s when he tells Jake to back off for good.
He hasn’t cried—he doesn’t think it’s been long enough for him to—but that doesn’t mean he isn’t sad.
Sunghoon withdraws a lot and blanks out in the middle of things, like in the shower or just before bed.
It’s also during all of this that he realizes how touch-starved he is.
He’d never considered you touchy or clingy, but he realized just how badly he needed it one night that he fell asleep comfortably with the pressure of a pillow against his back and another kept close to his front side.
If you knew he was having trouble sleeping, what would you do?
Would you stay up with him?
Rub his back or play with his hair until he did?
By the two week mark, he’d actually tried it one night for himself; sliding his hand under his shirt and rubbing his own chest the way you usually did.
It’s embarrassing.
More of a humiliation ritual, really.
He has a girlfriend—one who liked doing these things and did them without being asked to.
And because he jumped ahead he has to do without her?
₊‧⁺♱ ──
It’s different for you;
When you think about it long enough, you become angry.
You spend the first few days that way; putting things he left behind out of view when you come across them, staying away from your phone unless someone calls or texts, and you throw yourself into other things to distract you.
But after a week, you realize how big your bed actually is.
And you stare at what would be his side for the longest before you fall asleep.
Then everything changes and you’re just upset.
You walk around like you’ve been drained for everything you have, you zone out at work, and you sleep more on the couch because you won’t sleep well in your room.
Another week passes by, it’s Friday, and you find yourself wondering what you’d be doing under normal circumstances.
Maybe he’d surprise you with something; despite his seriousness, sunghoon is surprisingly good at finding new things to do in a city you’ve lived in for a while.
Maybe he’d take you somewhere casual; the movies; dinner; on a walk.
It hits you then that he might’ve tried to break the silence himself, but you blocked him, so you’d have no way of knowing.
It makes you grab your phone; unblocking his number, finding your messages with him; but there’s nothing.
But maybe it just needs to buffer, so you close the app and open it again; nothing.
Maybe he called instead of messaging you because he wanted to catch you when you weren’t busy, so you check your calls; and for the third time, there’s nothing.
He’s really taking this seriously.
It’s been two weeks and he hasn’t tried anything?
It’s been two weeks and he’s okay?
You only realize you’re crying when you feel like curling up wherever you can; which ironically enough is on the same large bed that makes you sad on a daily basis.
₊‧⁺♱ ──
The time apart should have given you a scare; to force you to imagine a reality where you were no longer together over something that could be fixed.
Only that effect came onto him more than it could have ever hit you.
And because the universe works in mysterious ways, the day he decided to ignore the rules he set just so happened to be the exact same day you first cried about it.
Even if he has a code to the door, he knocks because he wants to give you the option to ignore him if it’s still what you want.
But maybe if you see him trying, you’ll take pity on him and let him in.
And for a good minute, it seems like you won’t open the door.
Until he hears the lock click out of its place and the door opens up just enough for you to come into view.
You might not be crying in the moment, but he can tell you were just before you opened the door.
God, he’s such an asshole, isn’t he?
Do something, sunghoon, anything.
Neither of you have said a single word since you opened the door.
he’s still just standing right outside the frame and you’re blocking the way in without really thinking about it.
You sniffle a little—not to make it obvious that you were crying or anything like that—it was involuntary.
But it makes him react in a weird way where he feels like he has to do something about it.
Sunghoon barely realizes he’s crossing the threshold before he’s sliding one arm around your waist to bring you closer, while the other cups your cheek to angle your head the way he wants it to.
He sighs into your mouth, his shoulders dropping slightly as they relax; as if they’d been tense the entire time you were apart and could only come down now that you were near again.
Sunghoon might not be freakishly tall, but he’s tall enough that you have to work for this.
It messes with your shared balance the way you tip up slightly and pull him down by wrapping your arm around his neck, but he catches on quickly.
“I’m sorry.” He says, stopping for a moment just to get this out.
Your eyes start to well up again; having been emotional not even an hour ago, you’re a lot more sensitive to his sudden appearance than you would have been if he showed up yesterday.
“What— what are we going to do?” You sob.
Whatever burst of energy you had seconds ago is suddenly replaced by this.
Sunghoon frowns, cupping your face with both hands as he struggles to figure out how he’s going to comfort you when it’s his fault you’re crying in the first place.
“We don’t have to do anything, okay?” He says, clearing your face for you.
“Please don’t cry, baby…” he begs, “the break was a stupid idea— I missed you so badly, baby, you’d never believe me.”
You try to stop, but you can’t help it; and you bury your face in his shoulder to continue crying.
“I can wait.” He says, stroking your hair gently, “i just want us to be together, i don’t care how we do it.”
It doesn’t do much to help you stop crying, and all he can think to do is try and draw you out.
“Talk to me, baby…I don’t want to go back.” He sighs, “just tell me I can stay…”
You don’t give him a proper answer, you just wrap your arms around him tightly and hope it’s enough.
“Okay, okay.” He says softly, reaching behind him to lock the door.
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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍 ✴︎ Your fantasy to tie a ribbon on your husband's cock, took you to him where he gave you the permission to do it, but also made the ribbon tied on him hit your nose every time you deepthroated him.
Warning : 𝑬𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 : oral [m rec] ribbon tying on dick teasing blowjob deepthroating gagging cum eating rough sunghoon face fucking praises size kink
🪷° Haze' notes : Yall- don't judge me after reading this- I just love a rough hubby Sunghoon. Happy reading!!
You had always loved ribbons. They were the one thing you were completely obsessed with. Ribbons on your hair, on your wrist, on your dresses, and sometimes when you dress up like a doll for Sunghoon, you like wearing ribbons on your neck too.
You have had that obsession since you were little. Finding them incredibly fascinating. In your eyes, ribbons could be transformed into anything you like. Ties, bows, laces, ropes, and so many more things.
So when you started dating Sunghoon, it was no secret that you loved ribbons. Your entire apartment was decorated with them. Sunghoon loved them of course. Finding them to be uniquely you. And after the both of you got married a year ago, his house was now transformed and decorated with ribbons everywhere.
What you loved the most about ribbons was how you could tie them up on Sunghoon's biceps. It had been a little fantasy of yours that came to light a few months after you both had started dating. When you shyly asked him if he would let you tie ribbons on his bicep.
Sunghoon was delighted with the idea, having no problem with it. Since that day, it had become a little ritual between the two of you. But at times, your mind wandered to images of how his cock would look like with a soft pink ribbon.
About how it would feel when you would deepthroat him. Your nose rubbing against your own ribbon which you tied on him. Your ribbon. Your mark. “Hoon?” You slowly open the door to his study, peeking your head inside to look at him.
He was working on his laptop, eyebrows frowned with focus. He was wearing a simple black tee with gray pants, your favourite combination on him. “Hmm?” He didn't look up from the screen, fingers flying on the keyboard as he replied to you.
“Can you.. take a rest for a while?” You slowly walked in, shutting the door behind you gently to not disturb the peace of the room. “Doll, I have to finish this ‘mkay?” He gave you a quick smile, his eyes darting to the small link ribbon bows on your hair. “You look pretty.”
The compliment bloomed warmth inside you but the husk in his voice shot pleasure straight to your core. You slightly squirm on the spot before walking beside his desk, placing your hand on top of his on the keyboard to stop him from typing.
“Please hoon? I miss you..” You pout, your fingers curling in his. You knew he could never deny when you plead with him, always giving into your cuteness. “I want to tie a ribbon on your cock..” As soon as those words left your lips, your husband choked on air uncontrollably. “What?!”
“Doll you can't say things like that if you won't follow through.”
“Who says I won't? I really want to..” You felt Sunghoon freeze under your touch, his breath hitched. He looked up to read your face, making sure you weren't joking and actually wanted to do it. “Ok.. do it.” You squeak and hug him tightly, murmuring quick thank yous before you push his desk chair back slightly so you get enough space to kneel before him.
Sunghoon's fingers tightened on the hand of the chair, his heart pounding. He had dreamt of this for so long, wondering how you would look with his cock deep in your mouth. Your lips parted to their maximum at his size and your nose nuzzling with the base of his shaft, where your ribbon would reside.
“Baby lift your hips,” You squeak excitedly, your hands trembling with pure joy as you pull the pink ribbon from your back pocket and tug his pants down till it hits the floor. Your mouth watered at the sight of his bulge. “May I?” You whisper, not taking your eyes off his bulge. With a single hum from him, you pull his boxers down enough so his cock springs out.
You gasp looking at its size. He was honestly very big and that at times has left you feeling extremely nervous about taking him. But he has trained you enough so you could wrap your mouth around him without choking. You gently play with the base of his skin, feeling it twitch by your touch.
“Are you excited, hoon?” You smile eerily, looking up to meet his eyes. He groaned at the view in front of him. You are on your knees, between his thighs with his massive shaft right in your face. It was too much for him. “Yes, baby—” You chuckle and bring the ribbon forward to play with his cock, rubbing it at the base. He let out a low groan, throwing his head back.
His eyes squeezed shut as his cock twitched at the touch and friction of your ribbon. “Fuck—you are so cute—” You giggle playfully and press a teasing kiss on the tip, tasting the salty precum. His hands twitched to grab your head, force your mouth open and just shove his cock down your throat but held back so you could do what you wanted to do.
You wrap the silk around the base of his shaft, lining it up perfectly as you tied the ribbon into a bow. Wrapping your fingers around his cock while teasing him with light brushes of your fingertips. “Baby, stop teasin’” You hear Sunghoon hiss, his hips jerking into your face.
“I’m just making this bow look pretty~ Look hubby,” He simply didn’t care anymore. He had his angry cock right in your face, red and throbbing while all you thought about was the bow? “Open your mouth.” The low vibration from his voice sent electricity straight down your core, making you squirm uncomfortably.
You obediently opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue just like how he likes it. You lick the base of his cock, his hands wrapping around the base of his dick, playing with your ribbon as he slaps it on your tongue. “Fuck, just like that—” You wrap your lips around the head, looking up to make eye contact with him. His face was flushed and needy, pupils blown out with his thick eyebrow frowned.
You smile and push deeper, hollowing your cheeks to suck him, your mouth already aching at the size. “Fuckk—you look s’ good baby.” You picked up your pace at his praises, your pussy already drenched with need. You place your hands on his thigh as you bob your head faster, swirling your tongue around this throbbing shaft, driving him insane.
Without warning, he grabbed your hair in his fist and started thrusting in your mouth, throwing his head back with deep grunts, chasing his pleasure. Your throat burned at the friction he was using you with, your eyes tearing up. But determined to please him, you take him even deeper, relaxing your throat until your nose nuzzled with the ribbon you had tied.
He picked up pace, using you like a plastic toy, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly while spewing praises towards you, a complete contrast to how his cock pistoned in and out of your warm mouth. You gagged around his length, gripping his thighs so you could be balanced while your own wetness leaked down your thigh.
“Fuc—honey ‘m close. Don’t you dare pull back,” Not like you could even if you wanted to. He had his hands on your hair, trapping you between his knees. Your eyes rolled to the back of your mind, saliva leaking down the corner of your lips as you tried to take breaths from your nose.
You felt him tense up under your fingertips, his moans getting louder and his movements getting sloppier. “Fuck—‘m comin’!” Before you could realize, his body tensed under your fingertips as he exploded inside your mouth. Hot spurts of cum filled your mouth as he kept pumping, pushing his release to the back of your throat as you gag violently around him.
Few drops escaped your mouth, leaking from the side of your lips as he slumped back on the chair of his desk, pulling out his now softening cock out your mouth. “Such a good mouth.. Always ready to be filled” You swallowed it all down, your tears falling from the abuse your mouth just went through.
“My wife.. Come here, love.” He picked you up from the floor and placed you on his lap, wiping his cum off your lips with his thumb before he pushed it back in your mouth. “Don’t waste anythin’, you look so pretty being cock drunk, love..” You moan and clean his finger, his thumb leaving your mouth with a pop.
His cock rested on your stomach and you whimpered and leaned in to kiss him, “My wish is complete..” he smiled and kissed you back, his thighs flexing beneath you. “I’m glad, love.. I will always give in to your fantasies.” He gave you a wink, making you shy. “Now come on, I have to take care of my beautiful wife now, I need to make her watch as my cock enters her pussy, even the ribbon she tied.”
you shouldn’t have said it. not to sunghoon. you were just bantering.
“bitch.”
you laughed. “small dick.”
“really?”
- - - ゛
“ahh-fuck!” you were a squirming mess, your knees pinned to your chest by sunghoon, who was slamming into you so hard that with every thrust, a loud, wet squelch filled your entire apartment. “sss’ too much—agh!” you cried out again from under him. you could barely think, you were too overwhelmed with the mixture of pleasure and pain he was bringing you.
“not so small huh?” he panted out, sweat beading on his temple as he wrapped his hand around himself and pumped what wouldn’t fit inside you.
you cried out with every thrust, his size making you feel full before it was even halfway in. “admit it,” he cooed, still keeping his speed as his grip on your ass tightened.
you couldn’t even focus on looking at sunghoon— your back arched and head thrown back. “y’r— gah-your too big—nggh,”
he pressed his thumb against your clit with enough pressure to get you screaming more than you already were. “ahh— hoon!”
“fuck,” he muttered, now rubbing circles around it as you both tipped over the edge.
your hand flew up to grab sunghoons bicep as you cried out and came around his cock. “mmph—fuck!”
sunghoon filled you up with more cum than you’d ever taken— it was spilling out of you far after he pulled out.
he fell down beside you, both still catching your breath from your orgasms.
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𝐎𝟔𝟏𝟓──────idol!p.sh x 𝑓!rea ⟡ 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁!mdni ⠀ 是毒药❤︎ req
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 🍵馃槀馃槀
after a full year on tour, sunghoon finally made it back to you. one year felt like decadessssssssss to him.
so the second you opened the door he was instantly pulling you into his arms.
"someone missed me," you said, smiling against his shoulder.
"of course i did," sunghoon murmured, nuzzling his face into your neck.
"wanna tell me about tour?" you asked, still wrapped up in him.
"it was okay."
you laughed softly. "that's it?"
"yeah." he barely pulled back a centimeter just to kiss you. you tried to break the kiss for air but his lips chased yours immediately.
"hoon," you say breathless.
he just sighed into your mouth, like he couldn't get enough. (cause he couldn't). you tried guiding him toward the couch and he caught on quick, walking you there without ever letting your lips part.
once you were both on the couch, you pulled back for a real breath. "baby, i wanna hear about your tou—"
he cut you off with another kiss, deeper this time, tongue sliding against yours as he guided your hips until you were straddling his lap.
"fuck," he groaned under his breath, hands gripping your waist as he pulled you down harder against him.
you'd never seen him this needy before, and holy shit you weren't complaining. he was already rocking up into you, fully clothed, hard and throbbing against your core like he was seconds from losing it. this man—half your size muscle-wise at least—was completely at your mercy, whatever you wanted him to do he probably would do.
"feel good?" you asked, grinding down slow and deliberate, rolling your hips back and forth so your clothed pussy dragged right over his lap.
"mhm," he hummed, voice wrecked.
"missed you so much," his voice hoarse and desperate.
you could feel him shaking underneath you, body trembling with how badly he needed this. "you okay?" you asked, a little breathless, suddenly worried.
"y-yes, i'm fine."
"hoon, serious—"
he silenced you with another messy kiss, all tongue and teeth, like he wanted to devour you whole, (cause he did). his thrusts were getting erratic, hips bucking up wildly while his fingers dug harder into your hips.
you decided to give him what he needed and started grinding down harder, faster, dragging your soaked heat along every inch of his clothed dick. that's when you heard it—the hottest sound a man can make. a needy whimper slipped out of him, soooo desperate, going straight to your pussy, (duh).
you smiled, grinding even harder, chasing more of those pretty noises. "fuckfuckfuck," sunghoon cursed, eyes squeezed shut, head falling back.
"baby please—please don't stop, pleasepleaseplease," he begged, voice cracking.
holy shit you just hit the jackpot.
"you gonna cum?" you teased, grinding down with purpose, feeling your own orgasm building fast from the friction and his whimpers.
"yesyes—fuck, please—" his begging got cut off by a loud, filthy moan as his whole body tensed up hard. he came in his pants like a virgin, hips stuttering, cock pulsing against you while he lowkey fell apart underneath you.
you followed right after, thighs clamping around him, whole body trembling as pleasure crashed through you.
"shit," sunghoon groaned, body finally going limp, chest heaving.
you brushed his hair out of his face, still catching your breath. "you're a whimperer now?" you teased.
sunghoon smiled, lazy and fucked-out. "if you want me to be."
"oh?"
"mhm."
you felt him getting hard again already, he was smiling up at you.
"i didn't jerk off all year by the way," he confessed.
"wait, what?"
yeah... your in for a ride, and you both got all night AND day—good luck😗😗
(i haven't written smut in a while! so i'm sorry if this is badddd)
YOU SEEM PRETTY SAD FOR A GIRL SO IN LOVE. 🩷 ft. enhypen & evan
🌸 a collection of stories based on each track on olivia rodrigo's album, "you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love." including all enhypen members and evan.
MY WAY. jungwon × 𝒇.reader, husband!won, jealousy, ceo!won, written + smau, fluff, established relationship.
PURPLE TBA.
1. taglist for this series is open! send an ask or a comment to be added.
2. accuracy of the portrayal of each song is not strongly guaranteed, as music is subjective and everyone can have a different interpretation of each song, these are simply mine, in the form of stories :)
disclaimers: written in first person, not proofread, draft, dual pov, js mention of assassination ig? lmk if there’s smthn
background: You are in an arranged marriage with Jay Park. Jay is the CEO of a big company and a workaholic. It’s been 3 months since you guys signed a marriage contract and you have acted like the perfect wife, only to be greeted with Jay’s cold behavior. It’s starting to bother you because you have a secret… you’re an assassin on a mission.
zallas note: this is my first time posting fanfic on tumblr. I plan on making this a series so i may or may not post more parts on here depending on what i feel like. If you like my writing i mainly post on TikTok under the user @ywonspeare. Thanks for reading!
PART TWO
Y/N’S POV:
I walk in through the window. My phone flashes just as I finish crawling through the window. It’s a notification:
Jongseong: are you asleep?
Panic starts to flood through my mind. I had only left the house because I was sure nothing was going to happen. As every day passes I begin to be feel more and more unable to bear the silence and cold behavior in this house anymore. Every cold shoulder feels like another remembrance of how im failing this mission.
I shut the window gently, making sure there’s no noise.
A soft knock echos through the bedroom. He’s never visited my room before. A little spark grows in my chest, excitement.
I quietly rush to walk and open the door. He’s standing there soft and vulnerable. I’ve never seen him in his pajamas, or his hair tousled, it looks so soft I almost reach out to touch it out of instinct.
“Yes?” I mutter softly, kindly. I act like the docile wife I’m supposed to be.
“y/n” he replies softly, his eyes lined with something close to….pity?
Confusion flutters in my chest. I can’t think of a reason why he would pity me.
“I’m sorry for my cold behavior. I didn’t mean to hurt you, it was just so sudden- the marriage, that is- and I didn’t know who you were exactly-“ he begins to say softly as he stares at me so softly that I can’t believe it.
I tilt my head in confusion. “w-what?”
The shock in my voice is apparent, unlike the expectation I had of what it would sound like.
He looks away for a moment before meeting my gaze again and it almost looks like he blushes-
JAY’S POV:
Looking at her now… it’s even worse than when I saw the note.
…
A couple minutes ago when I got out the shower and went downstairs for a glass of water I had spotted a note pad with her handwriting.
“Why won’t he love me? Every single time I try to get close he just pushes me away. This is so damn frustrating.”
She usually just plays her obedient wife role quite well but I didn’t expect this. I never felt that she actually loved me. It made me feel slightly bad for her, after all I had purposely been giving her the cold shoulder.
…
She’s kind of cute… now that I actually look at her. The confusion on her face, the light flush across her cheeks. It almost makes me feel like she’s focused on me as much as I am on her.
I cough before speaking “ahem- sorry I just thought I would apologize for how I was acting.” I look inside her room, it’s different from how I imagined it. “Can I come in?”
When I bring my gaze back to her face, her cheeks are pink. Cute.
Y/N’S POV:
WHATTTT??? WHAT DOES HE MEAN ‘CAN HE COME INSIDE’??
“it’s kind of messy right now, maybe later?” I try to reply calmly but I can feel the heat on my cheeks.
“It doesn’t-“ he begins to reply kindly, smiling like he’s almost enjoying my reaction.
“-sorry I was just about to fall asleep so maybe I should just go back to bed-“ I quickly sputter out and then close the door. As I lean on the door to catch my breath I swear I almost hear him speak under his breath “…cute…”
My hands reach up to touch my face, it’s burning.
PART TWO
copyright of @wonspeare
do not translate, plagiarize, copy&paste my work or feed this work to ai. If you used for inspo pls credit me!
Hi hiii do you think you could write something beachy for one of the enhypen members? Maybe Jake or sunghoon? It could be like a night time trip to the beach or something else I'm in need of something beachy for the summer.....
Midnight sun
Pairing: bf!Sunghoon x gf!reader
Established relationship, modern non-idol au, fluff
Wc:~1.6k
Warnings: kisses, making out, some touches (nothing much, no smut, it's just fluff)
A/N: sorry it's so short, i just have a lot of stuff to write but i hope you liked it!
The golden hues of the setting sun painted the horizon in strokes of orange, pink and lavender, bleeding into the endless stretch of the ocean. The beach was quiet now, the daytime crowds having retreated to their hotels or bonfires farther down the shore. It was just you and Sunghoon, hand in hand, barefoot on the warm sand that still held the day's heat.
"This was the best idea we've had in months" Sunghoon murmured, his voice low and content as he squeezed your fingers. His dark hair was tousled from the ocean breeze and his white linen shirt hung open over his swim trunks, revealing the lean, toned lines of his chest and abdomen. Even after two years together, the sight of him like this: relaxed, sun-kissed, entirely yours, made your heart skip.
You leaned into his side, the salty air tangling with the faint scent of his cologne. "You say that about every vacation we take. Remember the cabin in the mountains? You said the same thing while we were snowed in for three days."
He chuckled, the sound warm and rumbling against you. "Yeah, but this feels different. No schedules, no one bothering us. Just you, me and the sea." He stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His eyes, sharp and expressive even in the fading light, softened as they met yours. "I love seeing you like this. Happy. Windblown. Mine."
Heat flushed your cheeks, not just from the sun. You reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. "Smooth talker. You've been practicing that line all day?"
"Only for you." He leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. It was gentle at first, his mouth warm and tasting faintly of the mango iced tea you'd shared earlier. But as you sighed into him, his hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you closer. The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing yours with a slow, deliberate tenderness that made your toes curl in the sand.
When you pulled back for air, both of you were breathing a little heavier. Sunghoon's thumb traced your bottom lip. "Come on. Let's get in the water before it gets too dark."
The waves lapped gently at your ankles as you waded in together. The water was cooler than the air, a refreshing shock against your sun-warmed skin. You wore a simple bikini the color of the sunset itself, deep coral with delicate ties and Sunghoon's gaze had lingered on you appreciatively when you'd changed earlier. Now, as the water reached your waist, he tugged you deeper, his arms wrapping around you from behind.
"Sunghoon" you laughed, splashing him lightly as a small wave rolled in. "It's colder than I thought!"
He spun you around in the water, lifting you effortlessly so your legs wrapped around his hips. His skin was slick and warm where it pressed against yours. "I'll keep you warm" he promised, his voice dropping an octave. Water droplets clung to his lashes, making his eyes look even darker, more intense.
You kissed him again, this time with the rhythm of the ocean guiding you. The sunset painted everything in ethereal light, turning the water around you into liquid gold. His hands roamed your back, fingers tracing the curve of your spine before settling on your hips, holding you steady as another wave pushed you both closer.
The kiss grew heated, unhurried. His lips moved from yours to your jaw, then down the sensitive skin of your neck. You tilted your head back with a soft sigh, threading your fingers through his damp hair. "I love you" you whispered, the words carried away on the breeze.
"I love you more" he replied against your collarbone, nipping lightly before soothing the spot with his tongue. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression a mix of adoration and desire. "Every day, I can't believe you're mine. That I get to do this with you."
You cupped his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks. The water swirled around your bodies as you floated together, weightless. Another kiss, deeper this time, tongues dancing slowly, exploring. His hands slipped lower, gripping your thighs as he held you against him. The intimacy of it, the vastness of the sea and sky around you, made everything feel more intense, more real.
A larger wave rolled in, lifting you both and nearly knocking you off balance. You both laughed, breaking the kiss as water splashed over your shoulders. Sunghoon steadied you, his forehead resting against yours.
"Careful" he teased. "If we drown out here, the headlines will be tragic. 'Couple perishes in romantic sunset swim.'"
You swatted his chest playfully. "Dramatic. You'd save me. My strong, handsome boyfriend."
"Always." His voice was sincere now, the playfulness fading into something softer. He kissed you again, slow and sweet, like he was memorizing the taste of salt and sunset on your lips. Your arms tightened around his neck, bodies pressed flush together in the buoyant water. His heart beat steadily against yours, a rhythm that matched the gentle push and pull of the tide.
Time seemed to stretch and compress all at once. You lost track of how long you stayed like that: kissing, touching, whispering little nothings between breaths. His hands never stopped moving: tracing the line of your waist, cupping the back of your neck to angle the kiss just right, sliding down to squeeze your ass with a playful yet possessive grip that made you gasp into his mouth.
"Sunghoon" you breathed, pulling back slightly. Your lips felt swollen, tingling. The sky had deepened to a rich indigo now, the first stars pricking through the twilight. The water around you shimmered with the last remnants of sunset.
"Hmm?" He nuzzled your nose, then kissed the corner of your mouth, your cheek, your temple. Each touch was reverent, filled with the easy affection that had grown between you over the years.
"This is perfect. I don't want to go back to the hotel yet."
"Then we won't." He shifted, guiding you both a little deeper until the water reached your chests. Your legs stayed locked around him and he supported your weight effortlessly, strong from years of casual swimming and gym habits. "We can stay out here until the moon comes up. Just us."
You kissed him harder this time, pouring everything into it: the gratitude for this trip, the love that felt bigger than the ocean, the spark of desire that had been simmering all day. His response was immediate and fervent. One hand tangled in your wet hair, the other pressing you impossibly closer. The making out turned passionate, tongues sliding together with increasing urgency. Soft moans escaped you both, muffled by the waves and the vastness around you.
He tasted like summer and forever. Your fingers explored the planes of his back, feeling the flex of muscle under smooth skin. When his lips moved to your neck again, sucking gently at the pulse point, you arched into him, the water making every sensation heightened and fluid.
"You're driving me crazy," he murmured, voice husky. "Looking like that in the sunset... kissing me like this..."
"Good" you replied, nipping at his bottom lip. "Because I feel the same."
Another wave came and you both submerged briefly, coming up laughing and sputtering. Sunghoon shook his hair like a dog, spraying you, which earned him a splash war that quickly dissolved back into kisses. His arms encircled you tightly, lifting you higher so he could trail kisses down your chest, right at the edge of your bikini top. The cool water contrasted with the heat of his mouth, sending shivers through you.
You lost yourselves in each other. Minutes blurred into a haze of touches and whispers. He told you stories between kisses: how he'd planned this trip for weeks, wanting to see you unwind. You confessed how much you loved watching him relax, away from the pressures of daily life. Every word was punctuated by lips meeting, hands wandering, bodies moving in sync with the sea.
As the sky turned fully dark, the moon rising high and casting a silvery path across the water, Sunghoon finally pulled back, though his hands stayed on your hips. "We should head back soon. Before we turn into prunes... or get swept away."
You nodded, though part of you wanted to stay forever in this bubble. "One more kiss?"
He smiled, that boyish, heart-stopping smile that had won you over from the start. "Always one more."
This kiss was the sweetest yet: slow, deep, filled with promise. His lips moved against yours like a vow, tongue tracing yours with languid strokes. You melted into him, the ocean cradling you both as the world narrowed to just this moment.
When you finally waded back to shore, dripping and glowing, Sunghoon wrapped you in a large towel from the bag you'd left on the sand. He pulled you into his lap on the beach, kissing your forehead, your eyelids, your lips once more.
"Best sunset swim ever" he declared softly.
You snuggled closer, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. "And it's only day two of vacation. Think we can top it?"
His grin was mischievous in the moonlight. "With you? Absolutely."
The walk back to your beachfront hotel was filled with more stolen kisses and quiet laughter. Your skin tingled from the salt, the sun and his touch. As you stepped inside the room, the door clicking shut behind you, Sunghoon pulled you close again.
But that's a story for later. For now, the memory of the sunset swim lingered like the perfect afterglow: warm, endless and entirely yours.
₊˚⊹♡ A solo business trip to Lake Como sounded like the perfect escape, and after a night of bar hopping, you meet a stranger who catches your eye. Deciding to have a little fun, you spend the night with him, only to wake up the next morning in an unfamiliar luxury hotel room. Realizing you're about to miss your flight back to Singapore, you quickly write an apology note, leave some money behind, and slip out before he wakes up, convinced you'll never see him again. But the moment you get home, your father announces that, for the sake of the family business, you've been arranged to marry the heir of another powerful company. With no way to refuse, you reluctantly agree to meet him. Less than 3 weeks after leaving Lake Como behind, you're sitting at dinner with your parents, waiting for your future fiancé to arrive... until a man takes the seat across from you. It's him... the stranger you disappeared on in Lake Como. Oh, this is gonna be a fun ride... isn't it?
𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙! 𝙟𝙖𝙮 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧
Arranged marriage, one night stand, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, billionaire romance, slow burn, banter, jealousy, angst, fluff, luxury lifestyle, corporate politics, family drama, mature themes, happy ending.
WARNINGS: Explicit Sexual Content, Strangers to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Angry Sex, Dirty Talk, Light Spanking, Hair Pulling, Light Choking, Overstimulation, Creampie, Oral Sex, Fingering, Strong Language, Alcohol Use, Family Pressure
wc: 17,920
Songs 🎧: The Hills- The Weeknd, Or Nah - The Weeknd, Wiz Khalifa, & Mustard, Despacito - Luis Fonsi & Daddy Yankee, There's Nothing Holdin' Me Back - Shawn Mendes, Mercy - Shawn Mendes, Here- Alessia Cara, Siren Sounds (bonus)- Tate McRae, In the Name of Love- Martin Garrix & Bebe Rexha
CHAPTER 1: LATE NIGHTS IN LAKE COMO
I didn't come to Lake Como to fall into bed with a stranger. I came because my father's company was closing a deal with an Italian textile group and someone with a Singaporean passport and a decent grasp of contract law needed to sit in on the meetings, and that someone was me. Three days of negotiations, translators, and men twice my age calling me "young lady" instead of my actual title, and by the third night I was so done being professional.
"One night," my colleague Minji had said, clinking her glass against mine while we were on a terrace that overlooked the water so still it looked like it was painted on. "One night where you're not Mr. Song's daughter. Just you."
I'd laughed her off at first. And then I'd had a second glass of wine, and a third. Somewhere between the second bar and the third… a place with string lights and a DJ who clearly thought hip hop was a personality, Minji had gone off with some guy she just met at the last bar we were at. So I'd found myself alone at the counter, spinning the handle of my glass between two fingers, when a voice beside me said, in heavily accented but confident English…
"You're doing that thing where you're thinking too hard for someone on vacation."
I'd turned, ready to deliver the practiced brush off I gave every man who tried his luck with me in a bar, but the words had evaporated somewhere in my throat.
He was… objectively, impersonally, in the most detached way I could manage while I was literally half drunk… the best looking man I'd seen in person in my entire adult life. Dark hair pushed back like he'd run a hand through it and wasn't bothered to fix it, a jaw I could've used as a straightedge, and eyes that held a kind of lazy, unbothered amusement, like he found the whole world a little bit funny and had decided I was the funniest part of it tonight.
"I'm not on vacation," I said. "I'm working."
"In a bar. At eleven at night."
"It's a very demanding job."
He'd smiled then… slow, crooked, entirely too aware of its own effect, and ordered us both something with too much rum in it, and by midnight I'd learned nothing true about him. Not his last name, not what he did, not which hotel he was staying at, only that his name was Jay, that he laughed like he meant it, and that he had a way of looking at me that made me forget I'd sworn off men in suits after my last two relationships had both ended over a damn spreadsheet.
"You're trouble," I told him, somewhere around my fourth bar, when his hand had found the small of my back and left it there like it belonged.
"I get that a lot," he said. "You gonna do something about it, or just complain?"
Somewhere between bar three and bar four, I'd made him guess my job, "finance," he'd said immediately, squinting at me like he could read a balance sheet off my face, "no, wait… something in law, you argue like someone who's used to winning," and I'd neither confirmed nor denied it, just let him keep guessing, delighted by how genuinely invested he seemed in being right. He, in turn, had refused directly to tell me what he did, only that it involved "a lot of boring meetings and even more boring men," which had made me laugh so hard I'd nearly knocked my drink into a total stranger's lap.
"You're avoiding the question," I'd told him, jabbing a finger into his chest.
"I'm creating mystery," he'd corrected. "It's a strategy."
"It's evasive."
"It's working, isn't it? You're still here."
I couldn't argue with that. By the fourth bar, the DJ had switched to something with a Latin beat that made the whole floor move as one body, and Jay had pulled me into it without asking, hand at my waist, hips finding the rhythm like it was something he did often, and I'd stopped pretending, even to myself, that I had any intention of going back to my hotel alone that night.
"For someone who does boring meetings," I'd shouted over the music, "you dance like you do this professionally."
"Hidden talents," he'd said against my ear, and I'd felt the words more than heard them, warm and low, and something in my chest had done a slow, dangerous flip that I chose, deliberately, not to examine.
I should have called it a night right there. I didn't.
The walk back to his hotel blurred into a memory I'd revisit more than I'd ever admit… the lake at my left catching the moon, his jacket over my shoulders because I'd complained once about the wind, his mouth against my temple at a red light because apparently he couldn't wait until we were inside. The lobby of his hotel was the kind of quietly obscene luxury that told me he wasn't just some backpacker with a nice face… marble floors, a chandelier that had probably cost more than my apartment, a night staff that greeted him by name with the particular deference reserved for people who paid for entire floors.
I noticed. I filed it away. I didn't ask.
Neither of us were interested in talking anymore anyway.
I didn’t even make it past the doorstep of his suite before he had me pinned against the door, his mouth claiming mine in a kiss that stole every last bit of breath from my lungs.
The click of the lock was barely audible over the pounding of my heart. His body pressed flush against mine… hard chest, strong thighs, the unmistakable bulge of his erection already straining against my hip. One of his hands tangled in my hair, tilting my head exactly how he wanted while the other gripped my waist, fingers digging in like he was afraid I might disappear.
“God, you taste even better than I imagined,” he growled against my lips, tongue sweeping in to taste me deeper. The kiss was messy, urgent, all teeth and tongue and raw hunger. I moaned into his mouth, hands fisting the front of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer.
When he finally broke away, both of us gasping, his lips trailed hot, open mouthed kisses down my neck. He sucked hard at my pulse point, then soothed it with his tongue. “Been thinking about this since the second I saw you at that bar,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “Wondering how you’d sound when I finally get my mouth on you.”
My dress was already riding up from how I wrapped my legs around him earlier on the dance floor. Jay’s hand slid under the hem, palming my ass, squeezing. “So fucking soft. I can’t wait to taste every inch.”
He lifted me effortlessly, my legs locking around his waist as he carried me toward the massive king bed. The suite’s floor to ceiling windows overlooked the moonlit lake, but neither of us spared it a glance. He laid me down gently, but the look in his eyes was anything but… dark, predatory, starving.
Jay knelt between my spread thighs, pushing my dress higher. “Let me see you.” His fingers hooked onto my lace panties, dragging them down slowly, teasingly. Once they were off, he spread my legs wider, eyes locked on my glistening pussy. “Look at you. Already so wet for me. Such a pretty little cunt.”
I whimpered at his words, hips shifting restlessly. He leaned in, blowing cool air over my heated flesh before his tongue licked a slow, broad stripe from my entrance up to my clit. The sensation made my back arch off the bed.
“Fuck—Jay—”
“Mmm, say my name again,” he demanded, then sealed his mouth over my clit, sucking gently while his tongue flicked rapidly. Two thick fingers pushed inside me without warning, curling to stroke that spongy spot that made you see stars. The wet, obscene sounds of his mouth and fingers filled the room.
He ate me out like a man possessed… long, hungry licks, tight circles around my clit, then sucking hard while his fingers pumped faster. “Tastes so fucking good,” he groaned against me, the vibrations shooting pleasure through my core. “Sweet and creamy. I could stay down here all night.”
My hands flew to his hair, gripping tight as my thighs started to tremble. He added a third finger, stretching me deliciously, scissoring them while his tongue worked my clit relentlessly.
“Come for me, baby. Let me feel this pussy squeeze my fingers.”
The orgasm hit me like a wave, crashing over me hard. I cried out his name, hips bucking against his face as he licked me through every pulse, drinking down every drop.
But he didn’t stop. He kept licking, gentler now, until the overstimulation turned back into building pleasure. Only then did he pull back, lips shiny with my arousal, and crawl up my body.
He kissed me deeply, letting me taste myself on his tongue. “See how good you taste? I’m going to make you come on my tongue again before I fuck you.”
I reached for his belt, desperate to feel him. He helped me strip him, his cock springing free… heavy, thick, veined, the head already glistening with precum. I wrapped my hand around him, stroking slowly.
“Fuck, your hand feels amazing,” he hissed. “But I need your mouth first.”
He guided me up, sitting back against the headboard. I settled between his thighs, looking up at him as I licked up the underside of his cock. Jay’s head fell back with a groan.
“That’s it… just like that. Take your time, baby. Worship it.”
I swirled my tongue around the head, tasting the precum, then sucked him into my mouth. He was big… stretching my lips wide. I bobbed my head, taking more each time, using my hand on what I couldn’t fit.
“Shit—your mouth is perfect. So warm and wet. Suck harder—yeah, just like that.”
His hand rested lightly on my head, not forcing, just guiding. I relaxed my throat and took him deeper, humming around him. Jay cursed, hips twitching.
“Gonna come if you keep that up,” he warned, but I didn’t stop. I wanted to push him over the edge.
When he finally pulled me off, his eyes were wild. “Not yet. I want to be inside you when I come the first time.”
He rolled on a condom quickly, then positioned himself between my thighs. “Ready?”
“Yes—please, Jay.”
He pushed in slowly, letting me feel every thick inch stretching me open. When he bottomed out, he stayed there, grinding deep. “So tight. Taking me so well. This pussy was made for my cock.”
Then he started moving… long, deep strokes that built steadily. I wrapped my legs around him, nails raking down his back. He leaned down to suck on my nipples, alternating between them while he fucked me.
The pace quickened. Skin slapped against skin. He reached between me to rub my clit in tight circles.
“Come again for me. I want to feel you milking my cock.”
I shattered around him, clenching hard. Jay groaned, thrusting through my orgasm before pulling out.
“On your hands and knees,” he ordered.
I obeyed, ass up. He spread my cheeks, licking from my clit all the way up, teasing my other hole briefly with his tongue before diving back into my pussy.
“Fucking delicious,” he muttered, then slammed back inside me from behind. The new angle was devastating. He fucked me hard, one hand in my hair, the other reaching around to rub my clit.
“Tell me how much you love my cock,” he demanded between thrusts.
“I love it—fuck—so deep—don’t stop—”
He reached around and pinched my clit, sending me over again. This time he followed, burying himself deep and coming with a guttural moan of my name.
"Gosh, y/n"
We collapsed together, but the night was far from over.
After a short breather, he pulled me into the shower. Under the hot spray, he dropped to his knees again, water falling over both of us as he ate me out against the glass wall… tongue fucking into me, fingers everywhere, until I came screaming.
Then I returned the favor, sucking him off on my knees until he spilled down my throat with a hoarse shout.
Back in bed, he took me slow and deep in, whispering filthy praises the whole time, “Look at how well you take me… your pussy is so greedy for my cock… gonna fill you up again soon…”
I rode him next, grinding down, his hands guiding my hips while he sucked marks into my breasts.
By the time the sky started to lighten, I'd lost count of how many times he’d made me come… on his tongue, on his fingers, on his cock. The room smelled of sex and sweat. Jay held me close afterward, kissing my temple, both of us boneless and satisfied.
But even as sleep pulled at me, I knew I’d have to leave soon.
CHAPTER 2: THE NOTE
I woke up to sunlight shining gold across a bed that wasn't mine, in a room the size of my childhood living room, with an arm slung heavy and warm over my waist and my flight… my flight… leaving in three hours.
For one forgiving, traitorous second, I let myself lie there. Let myself feel the solid heat of him at my back, the slow rhythm of his breathing, the absolute stupidity of how good it had felt to be someone else's for one night, no expectations, no last names, no Song Corporation trailing behind me like a shadow with a balance sheet.
Then my phone, buried somewhere in my discarded clothes, buzzed with a reminder, and reality slapped me awake.
I slid out from under his arm with the sneakiness of someone who had, in a past life, definitely been a cat burglar. He stirred, murmured something impossible to understand, and rolled onto his front, and I froze mid motion for a full ten seconds before he settled again.
Dressing in the dark… or rather, dressing in far too much golden Italian sunlight while trying to be quiet about it… was its own special kind of chaos. I found my dress inside out on an armchair, one shoe by the door and the other, mysteriously, on the balcony. I did not investigate how it got there.
I should have just left. That would have been the smart thing. The clean thing. I had done this before… not this exact scenario, not a man who made my pulse skip just by saying my overthinking out loud, but the general shape of it, the one night stand that ended at sunrise with no numbers exchanged and no promises made. I was good at leaving. I'd built an entire adult life around being good at leaving before anyone got the chance to leave me first.
So why did my hand shake, just slightly, reaching for the hotel notepad.
I told myself it was the time pressure. The flight. The three hours narrowing by the minute while I stood in a stranger's hotel room debating the ethics of a goodbye note like it was a legal document requiring careful drafting. I told myself it had nothing to do with the way he'd said my name… just my first name, I realized with a small, absurd jolt, because I'd never told him last name, nothing to do with Song, just hey, you, careful, murmured against my hair sometime after midnight in a way that had felt, in the moment, more intimate than anything a stranger's name had a right to feel.
Instead I found a hotel notepad by a bowl of fruit no one had touched, and a pen with the hotel's logo engraved in gold, and I stood there chewing my lip, staring at a man whose last name I didn't know, feeling something uncomfortably close to guilt.
Had to run… flight I can't miss. Last night was fun. Sorry for ghosting, it's not you, it's timing. Left some money for the minibar since I definitely helped myself. Take care of yourself, stranger.
I looked at it, cringed, and added a folded stack of euros on top… not much, just enough to make the note read as a joke instead of what it actually was, which was panic dressed up as nonchalance. Then I slipped my shoes on in the hallway, and I left.
I did not look back at the bed. I told myself that later, on the plane, somewhere over the Arabian Sea with a complimentary champagne I didn't taste, three separate times, and I did not believe myself even once.
CHAPTER 3: THE ANNOUNCEMENT
Jay woke up to an empty bed, a note that made his jaw tighten in a way he didn't examine too closely, and a stack of euros that felt, more than anything else that morning, like an insult.
Money for the minibar. Like he was a service she'd paid for and rated four stars. Like he was forgettable.
He wasn't used to forgettable. He wasn't used to being forgotten, not by women who'd looked at him the way she had… like he was the punchline to a joke only she knew, like she'd already decided he was fun but temporary before he'd even opened his mouth. He'd let a stranger walk into his hotel room, into his night, into apparently his head, and she'd left him folded currency like a tip.
He didn't know her last name. He didn't have her number. He had a room that still smelled like her perfume and a bruised ego he was going to pretend, for the sake of his own dignity, that he didn't have.
Fine, he thought, staring at the note until the words blurred. Fun while it lasted.
He had no idea, standing there in a hotel bathrobe at nine in the morning with wounded pride and lake view sunlight in his eyes, that the universe had already decided this was very much not over.
…
Three weeks after returning from Lake Como, I'd almost convinced myself the whole thing had been nothing more than a reckless business-trip mistake. I landed back into my routine feeling like myself again...… jet-lagged, sunburned in one uneven stripe across my shoulder, but myself, the version of me that answered emails and knew her own last name and hadn't spent a night pretending to be someone with no responsibilities. I told myself the whole flight home that Lake Como had been a bracket I was closing. Nothing that would follow me home.
My family had built Song Corporation from a single shipping route between Busan and Singapore three decades ago, back when my grandfather first left Korea with nothing but a cargo plan and a stubborn streak my father had inherited in full. I'd grown up between two languages and two sets of expectations… the quiet formality of my parents' generation, still rooted in Seoul even after thirty years abroad, and the faster, blunter world I'd built for myself in Singapore. Dinners at my parents' house still opened with a bow to my grandmother's photo on the mantel. My father still switched to Korean the second he was truly angry, which was usually the only warning I got before bad news landed.
My father was waiting for me at the dining table that evening, which was never a good sign. My father did not wait for people. People waited for him. The fact that he'd cleared his calendar to be sitting there with my mother, both of them wearing the particular stillness of people about to deliver news they'd already decided I would accept, made my stomach drop before he'd said a single word.
"Sit," he said. Not unkind. Just certain.
I sat.
"The Park deal," he began, and I already hated where this was going, because my father only used that tone… measured, deliberate, like he was reading from a contract instead of speaking to his daughter, for things he knew I wouldn't like. "Chairman Park and I have been in discussion for the last several months. Song Corporation and Park Industries merging our shipping and logistics divisions would put us in a position no one in this region could touch."
"Okay," I said slowly. "That's… good news? Why do you look like you're about to tell me someone died."
"Because," my mother said gently, reaching for my hand, "the merger comes with a condition. A marriage. Between you and Chairman Park's son."
The room tilted slightly. I laughed… an actual, disbelieving bark of a laugh, because surely, surely this was a joke, the kind my father sometimes attempted and always failed to land. "I'm sorry, what?"
"It secures the partnership for a generation," my father said, unmoved by my reaction, already reciting the argument he'd clearly rehearsed for this exact response. "It's not unusual in either of our families' histories. You know that."
"I know it's not unusual for it to happen to other people," I snapped. "I didn't think it would be me. I have a life, I have a job, I have… I don't even know this man!"
"You'll meet him tomorrow night. Dinner, here, informal. Chairman Park's son has agreed to the arrangement." My father's voice didn't so much as waver. "His name is Jay. I'm told he's reasonable. Personable. You could do far worse." Common name, right?
"And if I say no?" I hated how small my voice sounded, even to my own ears. "What happens then?"
My father set down his fork with the deliberate care of a man choosing his next words carefully. "Then the merger falls through. Ten years of negotiations, gone. Six thousand jobs across both companies put at risk over your reluctance to have dinner with a man you haven't even met." He softened, marginally, seeing something in my face he hadn't intended to put there. "I'm not asking you to marry a stranger tomorrow. I'm asking you to give this a chance. If, after time, you genuinely cannot stand him, we will find another solution. I promise you that. But I need you to try."
"That's not a real choice, father, and you know it."
"No," he admitted, quietly, which was somehow worse than if he'd simply argued. "It isn't. I'm sorry for that. But I built this company for you to inherit one day, and I need it to still exist by the time that day comes."
I wanted to scream. I wanted to slam my palms on the table and demand to know since when my entire future got decided over a boardroom handshake while I was out of the country closing a completely different deal for this same family. But I'd grown up in this house, under this roof, with this particular brand of love that came wrapped in obligation, and I knew… the way I knew the tide would come in, the way I knew the sun would set, that there was no version of tonight where I won this argument.
"Fine," I said, because it was the only word left that didn't come out as a scream. "Fine. I'll meet him. But I'm not promising anything beyond dinner."
My father, for the first time all evening, allowed himself something like a smile. "That's all I'm asking."
I went to bed that night thinking of Lake Como. Of a stranger's mouth against my temple, of a note I'd left folded on a hotel pillow, of the particular freedom of one night where nobody expected anything of me at all.
I had no idea how badly the universe was about to collapse those two lives into one.
CHAPTER 4: THE MAN ACROSS THE TABLE
I spent the following day in a fog somewhere between denial and minor panic, which was, in thinking back, an appropriate emotional state for what was coming.
My mother had chosen the restaurant… a private dining room in one of the hotels my family half owned, all dark wood and candlelight and a view of the skyline that was supposed to make everyone feel expansive and hopeful about the future. I wore the green dress my mother liked, the one that made me look, in her words, "like someone a Chairman's son would be lucky to marry," which was possibly the least comforting compliment I'd ever received.
I sat between my parents, watching the door, running through every version of this conversation in my head. Hello, nice to meet you, I hear we're being sold to each other for a logistics contract. I'd decided, somewhere around my second glass of water, that I would be polite. Cool. Unbothered. I would give this man exactly as much warmth as the situation legally required and not one degree more.
Then the door opened, and every rehearsed line I had died in my throat at once.
He walked in like he owned the room… because, I would later learn, in a very literal sense, he frequently did… dressed in a black suit that fit him with the kind of precision that only exists on men who've never had to wonder if they could afford tailoring. Dark hair, pushed back. A jaw I would recognize with my eyes closed, in a pitch black room, from memory alone, because I'd spent an embarrassing amount of a transatlantic flight trying not to think about that exact jaw.
He stopped mid stride. His eyes found mine, and for one full second, the easy, practiced charm on his face cracked straight down the middle into something like disbelief.
Him.
The stranger from Lake Como. The one I'd left a note and a stack of euros for. The one whose bed I'd slipped out of eighteen hours ago like a thief in the night, convinced… convinced… I would never see him again.
He recovered faster than I did. Of course he did. He slid into the seat across from me, straightened his jacket, and looked at me with an expression that was, if I had to name it, delighted… the specific delight of a predator that had just realized its dinner walked directly into the trap.
"Jay," my father said, standing to shake his hand, oblivious to the silent war being waged across his dining table. "This is my daughter."
"We've met," Jay said, eyes never leaving mine, mouth curling into a smile with teeth in it. "Haven't we?"
I picked up my water glass and drank the entire thing to keep from saying something that would get me disowned.
"Briefly," I managed. "In passing."
"That's not really how I'd describe it," Jay said, settling back in his chair with the unbothered ease of a man who had just been handed the single best piece of leverage of his entire life. "But sure. In passing."
My mother, blessedly, missed the hidden meaning entirely and launched into some pleasantry about the wine list. My father asked Jay about his flight in from Lake Como… of course he'd been in Lake Como, of course the business trip that ruined my life and the business trip that arranged my marriage were the exact same trip… and I sat there, spine locked straight, silently calculating how many ways I could disappear from this table without causing an international incident.
Jay answered every question my parents asked with the polished, charming ease of someone raised for exactly this kind of performance. And every few sentences, without fail, his eyes would slide back to me… amused, sharp, unmistakably promising that this conversation was very much not over.
Under the table, his knee brushed mine. Deliberately. I yanked my leg back like I'd been burned.
"So," he said, once dessert had arrived and my parents had drifted into a side conversation about the merger's logistics, low enough that only I could hear him. "Fun while it lasted, huh?"
My stomach dropped straight through the floor. "You read the note."
"I read the note." His voice was pleasant. Terrifyingly pleasant. "Money for the minibar was a nice touch. Very classy."
"I panicked," I hissed. "I had a flight to catch."
"You could've woken me up."
"I didn't want to wake you up. That was rather the point of leaving quietly."
"Right." He leaned back, studying me the way I imagine a shark studies a swimmer it hasn't decided whether to eat yet. "Because I'm just some guy you paid for room service and left behind. Except now it turns out I'm the guy your father wants you to marry. Small world, huh, Ms. Song?"
I hated how good my last name sounded coming out of his mouth like a threat. "This isn't funny."
"I think it's a little funny."
"Jay—"
"Relax." He picked up his wine glass, and something flickered behind his eyes that wasn't amusement at all… something colder, sharper, a decision being made in real time. "I'm not going to tell them. Wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of your parents. But you and I—" he tilted his glass toward me, the picture of civility, "…we're going to have a lot to talk about."
I had never, in my entire adult life, wanted to disappear so badly.
"This isn't a punishment," I said. "For me. Whatever you're thinking. I don't owe you an apology for leaving."
"Didn't say you did." His smile turned into something private, something I didn't trust at all. "But you left before I got the chance to make an impression. Seems only fair I get a second shot. We're going to be married, after all." He said the word married like he was trying it out for size, testing its weight, and something about the way it landed in his mouth made my whole body go warm and furious at once. "Might as well make it interesting."
He's going to make me pay, I thought, watching him raise his glass toward my parents in a toast neither of us had agreed to. This is a man who is going to make me pay for that note for the rest of my life.
I had absolutely no idea, yet, how right I was… or how much I'd eventually come to regret ever wanting it any other way.
…
Jay walked me to my car after dinner, which I was fairly certain was less about being a gentleman and more about getting me alone long enough to finish the conversation my parents hadn't been allowed to overhear.
"You could've said something," I hissed, the second the valet was out of earshot. "At the table. You let me sit there thinking I was about to meet a total stranger."
"And what would you have preferred? Me standing up mid appetizer announcing, 'Actually, we've met, she left me for dead in a hotel room in Lake Como after we did it'? Your mother would've had a heart attack into the bread basket."
"This isn't funny, Jay."
"I told you, I think it's a little funny." He leaned against the hood of my car, entirely too relaxed for a man whose entire future had just been decided over dessert. "Here's what I don't get. You looked at me tonight like I was a problem to be managed. But less than three weeks ago you looked at me like—"
"Don't."
"…like you couldn't get enough," he finished anyway, watching my face for a reaction he clearly enjoyed getting. "What changed? Besides the small detail of our fathers turning it into a business contract."
"Everything changed," I said. "That night was supposed to be nothing. A story I'd tell at parties. Not a… a lifetime commitment."
"Scared?"
"Furious," I corrected. "There's a difference."
"Is there?" He straightened off the car, close enough now that I had to tip my chin up to hold his gaze, and something in his voice dropped, lower, more serious than the teasing he'd kept up all night. "For what it's worth, I didn't ask for this either. I found out about the arrangement two days ago, same as you probably found out today. It's not like I knew it was you either… only to discover tonight it's the lady who decided I wasn't worth a proper goodbye."
That landed harder than I expected. "I told you. I panicked."
"I know." Something in his expression softened, just slightly, before the familiar smirk slid back into place like armor. "Doesn't mean I'm not going to enjoy watching you squirm about it for a while."
"You are the worst person I have ever met."
"You said something very different 3 weeks ago," he said, opening my car door for me with an exaggerated little bow. "Goodnight, Ms. Song. See you at the engagement shoot."
"The what—"
He was already walking away, hands in his pockets, whistling something I was fairly sure was deliberately, infuriatingly cheerful, and I sat in my car for a full five minutes after he'd disappeared around the corner before I trusted myself to drive.
…
The engagement shoot, as it turned out, was very real, and very public, and scheduled for exactly six days later… a joint press release for two companies merging their shipping empires needed a photogenic couple to sell it, and apparently Jay and I were now, officially, that couple. A stylist tumbled in my apartment with three racks of clothing. A photographer with an assistant who called him "genius" without a trace of irony spent two hours arranging us against a backdrop of the harbor, murmuring instructions like closer, a little closer, now look at each other like you mean it.
"We're supposed to look like we mean it," Jay murmured, tilting my chin up with two fingers, entirely for the camera, entirely too gentle for a gesture that was supposed to be fake. "Think you can manage that?"
"I've been managing it all week," I muttered back, aware of how thin the line had become between performing something and actually feeling it.
The photos ran three days later… me in cream, Jay in navy, his hand at my waist and my head tipped back mid laugh at something he'd actually said, not scripted, a genuine reaction the photographer had caught by accident and declared "the shot." My mother framed it. Chairman Park used it for the official press release. Half my social circle sent me messages about how happy we two looked, how natural, and I sat there scrolling through the comments feeling something uncomfortably close to guilt, because the photo wasn't a lie, exactly. It just wasn't the whole truth either.
CHAPTER 5: ENGAGED, APPARENTLY
The engagement was announced within the week, because apparently when two companies decide to merge their shipping divisions, nobody sees the point in a long engagement. There was a press release. There was a photo… me in a dress that cost more than my first car I bought for myself, Jay's hand at the small of my back in the exact same place it had been in a bar in Lake Como, except this time there were cameras, and this time it meant something entirely different.
"Smile," Jay murmured through his teeth as the photographers called for one more shot. "You look like you're being arrested."
"I am being arrested," I muttered back, teeth also gritted, smile also plastered on. "Just with better lighting."
"Careful," he said, low enough that only I could hear. "People might start thinking you don't like me."
"People would be correct."
"That hurts," he said, sounding not remotely hurt. "Especially considering how much you liked me a few week ago in a hotel room with a view of the lake. While you moaned my name—"
I stomped, discreetly, on his foot. He didn't even flinch, just smiled wider for the cameras, and I hated… hated… how much I wanted to laugh.
…
Jay and I were, by both families' decision, to move into a penthouse together ahead of the wedding… "to get comfortable with each other," my mother said, with the specific confidence of a woman who had clearly never had to share a bathroom counter with a man she was furious at. The penthouse was Park property, forty floors up, all glass and steel and a view of the harbor that would've been romantic under literally any other circumstances.
It had two bedrooms. Thank goodness…
The first month was a war led almost entirely through passive aggression and pointed silences. Jay left his shoes in the hallway specifically, I was convinced, because he knew it drove me insane. I reacted back by rearranging his entire closet by color instead of by season, which he discovered at seven in the morning while trying to find a specific navy suit and instead found himself surrounded by a rainbow of confusion.
"You're a menace," he told me over breakfast, hair still damp from a shower, tie hanging undone around his neck because he hadn't had time to finish it.
"I'm efficient," I said, not looking up from my coffee. "Color coding is a perfectly reasonable system."
"It's an act of war."
"Tie your tie, Jay, you have a board meeting."
He glared at me. I didn't look up. He tied the tie badly out of spite, and we both knew it, and neither of us said another word about it, and somehow that felt like the closest thing to a truce either of us had managed in weeks.
…
The banter was constant, and it was, if I was being honest with myself… which I tried very hard not to be… the best part of my day. He teased me about my coffee order (too complicated, he said, for someone who claimed to hate complications). I teased him about the fact that he talked to his car like it could hear him. He'd catch me smiling at something he said and immediately point it out, "Was that a laugh? Did I just make Ms. Song laugh?" and I'd immediately stop, purely on principle, which only made him laugh harder.
It would have been easy, dangerously easy, to enjoy it. I reminded myself, nightly, in the privacy of my own bedroom with the door locked, that this was a business arrangement wearing the costume of a relationship, and that the man three doors down had made it very clear, that first dinner, that he intended to make me pay for leaving him in Lake Como. I didn't trust charm that came with a motive. I'd learned that the hard way, long before Jay Park ever existed.
So I kept my walls up. Mostly.
It was easier some days than others.
…
RULES
Two weeks into this, I'd decided the situation required structure, so I'd drafted… because of course I had, I was my father's daughter whether I liked it or not… an actual list of household rules and taped it to the refrigerator.
Jay found it while looking for orange juice.
"'Rule one,'" he read aloud, deadpan, holding his glass of juice like a prop, "'No shoes in the hallway.' Sweetheart, this is a shared home, not a monastery."
"Rule one exists because you have never once, not a single time, taken your shoes off before the front door."
"'Rule two: knock before entering shared spaces if the other person is, and I quote, "visibly stressed."'" He looked up at me over the side of the paper. "How am I supposed to gauge 'visibly stressed' from outside a closed door?"
"You'll know."
"'Rule three—'" he squinted, "'… do not, under any circumstances, refer to this arrangement as "cute" in front of either family.' Why would I call this cute?"
"Because you called it cute to my mother yesterday and she looked ready to start planning nursery colors."
"It was cute. You made me a cup of coffee without me asking. That's basically a marriage proposal in this household."
"It was leftover coffee. I was being economical."
"Sure." He folded the list in half, tucked it into his back pocket like a souvenir instead of leaving it on the fridge, and I decided, very firmly, not to comment on that either.
Jay and I fell, without either of us quite agreeing to it, into a rhythm that felt almost domestic… he made appalling instant noodles at midnight and somehow always made a second bowl without being asked, I learned, against my will, the exact way he liked his coffee, dark, no sugar, one useless ice cube "for the aesthetic," his words, not mine. We argued about the thermostat. We argued about whose turn it was to deal with the dry cleaning. We argued, once, for a full twenty minutes, about whether pineapple belonged on pizza, an argument Jay won not through logic but through the sheer, relentless force of ordering one anyway and watching me eat three slices while insisting I hated it.
It didn't feel like an arrangement most days. It felt, terrifyingly, like something closer to a life.
I still wasn't ready to call it that. Not yet.
…
My mother had opinions about wedding dresses the way my father had opinions about shipping contracts… extensive, firm, delivered with total confidence regardless of whether anyone had asked. I stood on a small pedestal in a boutique that smelled like tea and money while a worker pinned fabric at my hips and my mother circled me like she was appraising livestock.
"This one," she declared, for the third dress in a row. "No… wait. The last one. Definitely the last one."
"You said that about the first one too."
"I have many opinions ." She adjusted a stray pin. "You seem distracted, darling. Everything alright with Jay?"
I hesitated a beat too long, and my mother, who missed almost nothing when it came to my moods, caught it instantly.
"Everything's fine," I said. "It's just… a lot. All of it happening so fast."
"You've been happier since Lake Como," she said gently, not unkindly, folding a swatch of lace over her arm. "Whatever's between the two of you, real or not, I've watched you smile at your phone more in the last two months than you did in the entire two years you dated that awful man from the shipping conference."
"His name was Nick, and he wasn't awful, he was just—"
"He once corrected your grammar during your own birthday toast. He was awful." My mother fixed me with a look I recognized from childhood, the one that meant she already knew the answer and simply wanted me to say it out loud. "I know this didn't start the way either of you wanted. But I've been married to your father for thirty one years, and I promise you, some of the best marriages start as arrangements. It's not how it begins that matters. It's what you both decide to make of it."
I didn't have an answer for that, not one I trusted myself to say without my voice cracking, so I just let the worker finish pinning the dress and hoped my mother would mistake the shine in my eyes for exhaustion instead of what it actually was.
CHAPTER 6: BACK TO THE SCENE OF THE CRIME
Six weeks before the wedding, the Park-Song merger required one final round of negotiations … in person, in Lake Como, with the same Italian business I'd first met with the night I'd met Jay. My father, delighted by what he assumed was budding chemistry between his daughter and her fiancé, insisted we both attend together.
"Absolutely not," I said, the second I found out.
"It's one trip," Jay said, entirely too pleased with himself, lounging in the penthouse's kitchen doorway with his arms crossed. "Besides, you love it there. You told me so yourself. Very memorably, actually."
"I will end you."
"Promises, promises."
…
The flight over was, against my best efforts, almost pleasant… Jay stole my armrest for the entire eleven hours and somehow made it feel less like an act of war and more like an invitation, and by the time we landed I'd watched two mediocre romantic comedies with him, argued about which one was worse, and split a truly ill advised amount of the airline's complimentary chocolate.
The negotiations themselves ran two full days, and I found myself, for the first time since this entire arrangement began, genuinely impressed by him… not by the practiced charm he displayed at dinner parties, but by the sharp, unglamorous capability he brought to a boardroom. He caught a clause in the shipping contract that would've cost both companies millions if it had gone unnoticed, argued the business's lead counsel into a corner without ever raising his voice, and did it all with the same easy confidence he'd used to talk me into a second drink the very first night I met him.
"You're staring," he murmured, leaning close under the act of reviewing a document, during a break in the second day's session.
"I'm reviewing your work," I said. "It's a legitimate business function."
"Sure it is." His mouth twitched. "For what it's worth, you're better at this than half the men in this room. Your father should let you run point on these negotiations instead of just sitting in on them."
I blinked, thrown by the sincerity of it, the total absence of teasing. "That's—" I fumbled for a second, "…actually a genuinely nice thing to say."
"Don't get used to it," he said, already back to his usual smirk, though something warmer lingered behind it that neither of us acknowledged out loud.
…
With the negotiations wrapped early that afternoon, we found ourselves with a rare, unscheduled block of hours before the celebratory dinner… no meetings, no families, no reason to be anywhere but exactly where we wanted to be. Jay suggested, with the particular casualness of a man trying very hard not to sound like he cared about the answer, that we take the hotel boat out onto the lake.
"That sounds suspiciously romantic for a business trip," I said.
"It's efficient sightseeing," he said. "You've been to Lake Como twice now and seen nothing but hotel lobbies and a boardroom. That's practically criminal."
I went. The lake in the afternoon light was almost romantic in its beauty… pastel villages stacked along the hills, the water so clear I could see straight through to the rocks below, mountains still capped faintly with snow despite the season. Jay, it turned out, was a genuinely terrible boat driver, and I spent a solid twenty minutes laughing at him trying to dock at a small café along the shore, nearly clipping a much nicer boat belonging to a very unimpressed elderly Italian man.
"In my defense," Jay said, mortified, as we both scrambled onto the dock, "boats are unreasonable vehicles."
"You almost took out a man's entire summer."
"He'll live." He handed me out of the boat with more grace than his docking had suggested he possessed, and didn't let go of my hand once I was steady on solid ground. Neither of us commented on it. Neither of us let go, either.
We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering a village whose name I never quite caught, eating gelato that Jay insisted, with total confidence and zero evidence, was "objectively the best in Italy," and browsing a tiny shop that sold hand painted ceramics, where Jay bought a small blue bowl for no reason he'd admit to and I caught him, later, packing it carefully into his suitcase like it mattered.
"For the penthouse," he said, when he caught me watching. "Somewhere in that place we could use a little color that isn't gray and glass."
"That sounds suspiciously like nesting, Jay."
"It's interior design. Don't read into it." He absolutely wanted me to read into it. I absolutely did.
By the time the sun started dipping toward the hills, gold spilling across the water in a way that made the whole afternoon feel like something out of a memory I hadn't made yet, I'd stopped keeping track of how many times he'd made me laugh, or how many times I'd caught myself wishing this particular afternoon didn't have to end.
That night, with the contracts finally settled and one more signing ceremony scheduled for the following week, the business's lead partner insisted on a celebratory dinner… the same terrace, coincidentally or not, where I'd first found Jay leaning against the bar with a drink in his hand and a comment about my overthinking. I wore red. He noticed. He didn't bother pretending he hadn't.
"This feels like déjà vu," I said, watching the same lake catch the same moonlight it had the night we first met, a lifetime ago, back when I still thought I'd never see this man again.
"Good déjà vu or bad déjà vu?" he asked.
"Ask me tomorrow," I said, though we both already suspected we knew the answer.
The hotel… a different one this time, a relief, at least, though not by much… had, thanks to some administrative mix up that I was fairly certain Jay had personally engineered, booked the two of us into a single suite. One suite. One bed.
I stood in the doorway, staring at it, then at Jay, who was already unbuttoning his cuffs like this was the most natural thing in the world.
"No," I said.
"There's a couch," he said, gesturing vaguely at a chaise longue that was approximately five feet long and shaped like a crescent moon, entirely unsuited to the human spine.
"You take the couch."
"I'm six foot."
"That sounds like a you problem."
He grinned, infuriatingly. "We've shared a bed before. I don't remember you complaining."
Heat crawled up my neck, fast and unwelcome. "That was different."
"How, exactly?"
"That was one night with a stranger. This is—" I gestured helplessly between the two of us, "…this. Whatever this is."
"Fiancés," he supplied, far too casually, sitting on the edge of the bed like he already owned it, which, technically, given his family's stake in the hotel chain, he might have. "That's the word you're looking for."
"I know what the word is, Jay."
"Then use it. Might make the whole thing easier." Something flickered behind his eyes when he said it… not quite a challenge, not quite something softer. I didn't examine it too closely.
I ended up sharing the bed. I told myself it was purely logistical… a strict, enforced border down the middle of the mattress, a wall of decorative pillows stacked between us like the Berlin Wall reincarnated as home decor. Jay found the entire arrangement hilarious and said so, repeatedly, until I threatened to relocate him to the crescent-moon couch by force.
I woke up at 3 a.m. tangled against his chest, his arm slung over my waist exactly the way it had been the first time, in a different hotel, a different life, and I lay there in the dark for a long, unbearable minute, listening to him breathe, hating how much it felt like coming home.
I didn't move. Not right away.
When I finally did, careful, silent, he caught my wrist in the dark.
"Stay," he said, voice thick with sleep, and there was none of the usual bite in it. Just something quiet. Something real.
I stayed. I told myself, the next morning, that it hadn't meant anything. Neither of us brought it up again.
CHAPTER 7: JEALOUSY… WAS IT?
The closing gala for the merger was held on the terrace of the same hotel where the Italian business had first courted my father's business, string lights, a jazz trio, champagne that flowed like the lake itself had been bottled and served. I wore navy. Jay wore black. We'd agreed, wordlessly, over breakfast, to be civil for the cameras, which had somehow, without either of us fully noticing, evolved into being civil in general.
For the first hour, it was almost easy. Jay kept a hand at the small of my back as he introduced me to a rotating different executives and their spouses, and I found myself falling into an easy rhythm with him… finishing his sentences when he got bored of a conversation, catching his eye across the terrace when someone said something particularly absurd, sharing the kind of silent, private laughter that made me forget, for whole stretches of time, that any of this had started as a contract instead of a courtship. My father caught the two of us mid laugh at one point and looked, for a moment, so un-embarrassingly pleased with himself that I almost forgave him for the entire arrangement on the spot.
"You're enjoying yourself," Jay murmured, refilling my glass. "Careful. Someone might think you actually like me."
"Don't get used to it," I said, echoing his own line back at him, and he grinned like I'd handed him a gift.
That lasted exactly until Karina Yu showed up.
Karina was the business's newest assistant, stunning, sharp tongued, and, I gathered within about four minutes of watching her operate, extremely aware of exactly how good she looked with her hand resting on Jay's forearm while she laughed at something he'd said. I told myself I didn't care. I told myself this several times, with increasing insincerity, while I held a glass of champagne on the other side of the terrace and watched Jay throw his head back and laugh… an actual laugh, not the polished business one… at whatever Karina had just said.
So when Yeonjun Choi, a family friend from Singapore who happened to also be at the gala for reasons that felt suspiciously well timed, walked up beside me with two fresh glasses of champagne and an easy smile, I let myself lean into it. Just a little. Just enough.
"You look like you could use better company," Yeonjun said.
"You have no idea," I said, and let him make me laugh… genuinely, loudly, at a joke that wasn't even that funny… specifically angled so it would carry across the terrace.
I felt it the second Jay noticed. The air seemed to change temperature. I didn't dare look over, but I could feel the exact moment his attention snapped away from Karina Yu and landed, heavy and distinctively, on me and Yeonjun and the two inches of space between our shoulders that Yeonjun had very deliberately closed.
Ten minutes later, Jay's hand found the small of my back.
"Having fun?" he asked, voice pleasant, smile fixed, eyes doing absolutely none of the smiling.
"Loads," I said sweetly. "Yeonjun was just telling me about his new venture. Weren't you, Yeonjun?"
"I was," Yeonjun said, entirely oblivious to the fact that he had just become a casualty in a war he didn't know was being fought. "Actually, I was going to ask if you'd want to—"
"She'd love to," Jay cut in smoothly, "catch up with you later. Right now I need to steal my fiancée for a dance."
He didn't wait for my answer. His hand slid from my back to my waist, and he was already pulling me toward the small cleared space where a few other couples swayed under the lights, and I went, because making a scene in front of half of Lake Como's business elite was not on my evening's agenda.
"That was rude," I said, once we were close enough that only he could hear.
"That was necessary."
"He was being friendly."
"He was flirting with you." Jay's jaw was tight, his hand at my waist gripping just a little too firmly to be casual. "In front of me. At our engagement gala."
"And you were doing what, exactly, with Karina Yu for the last half hour? Discussing shipping tariffs?"
"That's different."
"How is that different?"
"Because I wasn't trying to make you jealous," he said, and then, a beat too late, the muscle in his jaw ticking, "Were you? Trying to make me jealous?"
I didn't answer. Which was, in itself, an answer, and we both knew it.
"You were," he said, something dark and satisfied slipping into his voice even through the anger. "You wanted me to see that."
"Don't flatter yourself."
"I'm not flattering myself. I'm reading the room. And the room says you didn't like watching me talk to another woman any more than I liked watching you flirt with Yeonjun Choi's Rolex collection."
"I don't care who you talk to."
"Liar," he said, low, and pulled me a fraction closer, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him through two layers of expensive fabric. "You've been glaring at Karina Yu's dress since she walked in."
"It's a hideous dress."
"It's a Valentino."
"It's a hideous Valentino."
Something in his expression cracked then… not quite a smile, something rawer than that, something that looked almost like relief that I was finally, finally saying something true. The song ended. Neither of us stepped back.
"We're going back to the hotel," Jay said. It wasn't a question.
I didn't argue.
CHAPTER 8: CRASH… HEHE
The elevator ride back to the penthouse floor was silent in the way that meant it wasn't silent at all… every inch of space between us charged, both of us staring straight ahead at the doors like the reflection there might explain what exactly we were doing.
The second the door clicked shut behind us, it all came out at once.
"You embarrassed me out there," I said, rounding on him, heels forgotten by the door, adrenaline and champagne and something far more dangerous humming under my skin. "Pulling me away like I'm a possession you needed to reclaim—"
"I embarrassed you?" Jay's jacket was already off, tossed over the back of a chair, tie loosened like he couldn't get it off fast enough. "You spent an hour hanging off Yeonjun Choi's arm—"
"I did not hang off his arm—"
"…laughing at everything he said like it was the funniest thing you'd ever heard—"
"Because it's more fun than watching you and Karina Yu practically undress each other with your eyes across the terrace!"
"There it is." He turned to face me fully, and the look on his face wasn't the charming, lazy amusement I'd grown used to… it was something sharper, hungrier, months of banter and almost truths finally boiling over into something neither of us could pretend was just anger anymore. "That's what this is about. You don't get to be jealous of me, sweetheart. Not after Lake Como. Not after you left me a note like I was room service."
"I'm not jealous."
"You're jealous." He took a step closer. I didn't step back. "You've been jealous since the second she put her hand on my arm, and you know what? So was I. Watching Yeonjun Choi look at you like that. Like he had any right to."
"Maybe he does," I said, breathless, reckless, the words leaving my mouth before my brain could stop them. "Maybe I'm tired of being handed off to a man who's spent the last two months trying to make me pay for one night I don't even regret."
Something in his face went dangerously still. "You don't regret it."
"No," I said. "I don't. And that terrifies me. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
The distance between us disappeared.
In a crash of mouths and hands. Jay’s kiss wasn’t gentle… it was a claim, teeth clashing, tongue demanding entry as he backed me against the nearest wall with enough force that a framed picture rattled. I bit his lower lip hard enough to taste the faint metallic tang of blood, and he growled into my mouth, the sound vibrating straight down to my core.
“You think I don’t know what you were doing?” he rasped, one large hand fisting in my hair and yanking my head back so he could bite down the side of my throat. “Parading Yeonjun in front of me like I wouldn’t lose my fucking mind?”
“I wasn’t—” My words cut off in a gasp as he sucked hard on my pulse point, hard enough to leave a mark I’d have to hide tomorrow.
“Bullshit.” His other hand shoved the hem of my navy dress up roughly, fingers digging into the soft flesh of my thigh. “You wanted me jealous. Mission accomplished, baby.”
He spun me around suddenly, pressing my front to the cool wall, his chest hot and solid against my back. The zipper of my dress gave way under impatient hands, the fabric pooling at my feet in a whisper of expensive silk. I was left in nothing but lace panties and heels. Jay’s palm slapped against my ass… sharp, possessive, before he kneaded the sting away.
“Mine,” he snarled against my ear, teeth grazing the shell. “Say it.”
“Fuck you,” I shot back, even as I pushed my hips back against the hard line of his cock straining through his trousers.
He laughed, low and dangerous. “That’s the plan.”
He dropped to his knees behind me without warning, yanking my panties down my legs and tossing them aside. Strong hands spread my cheeks, and then his mouth was on me… hot, wet, relentless. His tongue dragged from my clit all the way up, circling the tight ring of my ass before diving back down to lap at my dripping pussy. I cried out, forehead pressed to the wall, fingers scrabbling for purchase.
“Jay—fuck—”
He ate me like a man starved, like he could erase every second I’d spent smiling at Yeonjun by devouring me instead. Long, broad licks that made my thighs shake, then tight, focused suction on my clit while two thick fingers plunged inside me, curling viciously against that spot that made stars burst behind my eyes. The wet, obscene sounds filled the room… his groans vibrating against my folds, my own broken moans echoing off marble.
“You taste so fucking good when you’re jealous,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to speak before spitting on my pussy and diving back in. A third finger joined the first two, stretching me open as his tongue flicked rapidly over my clit. “Gonna make this pretty cunt remember who it belongs to.”
I came hard, suddenly, thighs clamping around his head as my walls pulsed around his fingers. He didn’t stop… kept licking me through it, gentler then rougher again, until I was whimpering and trying to twist away from the overstimulation.
He stood, spinning me to face him. His mouth was shiny with my arousal, eyes dark with lust and something fiercer. He kissed me again, letting me taste myself on his tongue while he stripped off his shirt and trousers. His cock sprang free… thick, heavy, already leaking at the tip. I reached for it, but he caught my wrist.
“Not yet.” He lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carried me to the massive bed. He dropped me onto it and followed immediately, crawling over me like a predator.
His mouth latched onto one nipple, sucking hard while his hand pinched and rolled the other. I arched into him, nails raking down his back hard enough to leave marks. He hissed in pleasure, grinding his cock against my thigh.
“These tits,” he groaned, switching sides, biting down gently before soothing with his tongue. “Been thinking about them all night while that asshole flirted with you.”
He worked his way down my body with single minded focus… kissing, licking, biting every inch of skin he could reach. Over my ribs, across my stomach, dipping into my navel, then lower. He settled between my thighs again, pushing them wide apart until I was completely exposed.
“Look at this greedy little pussy,” he murmured, spreading my folds with his thumbs. “Still dripping for me even after you came on my tongue.” He leaned in and licked a slow stripe up my slit, eyes locked on mine. “Tell me you don’t want anyone else tasting this.”
“I don’t,” I gasped, hips bucking. “Just you—fuck, Jay—”
He rewarded me by sucking my clit into his mouth while two fingers pumped steadily inside me. The pressure built again, fast and overwhelming. He added a third finger, scissoring them, stretching me as his tongue worked magic. When I was right on the edge, he pulled back, ignoring my whine of protest.
“Not yet. You don’t come again until I say so.”
He moved up my body and straddled my chest, knees on either side of my shoulders. His heavy cock bobbed in front of my face, glistening. He tapped the head against my lips.
“Open.”
I did, eagerly. He pushed in slowly at first, letting me swirl my tongue around the head, tasting the precum. Then he gripped my hair and thrust deeper, fucking my mouth with controlled rolls of his hips.
“Fuck, your mouth y/n…always so perfect.” He groaned as I hollowed my cheeks and took him deeper, relaxing my throat. “Suck it like you mean it, sweetheart. Show me how sorry you are for teasing me tonight.”
I hummed around him, the vibration making his thighs tense. Saliva dripped down my chin as he used my mouth, not rough enough to choke but deep enough that my eyes watered. I loved it… the weight of him on my tongue, the way his abs flexed above me, the filthy praises falling from his lips.
He pulled out suddenly, breathing hard, and flipped me onto my stomach. He hauled my hips up so I was on my knees, ass in the air, face pressed into the sheets.
“Gonna fuck you so deep you forget Yeonjun’s name,” he growled, lining himself up and slamming in with one brutal thrust.
I screamed into the mattress, the stretch bordering on too much after his fingers. He didn’t give me time to adjust… just pulled back and drove in again, setting a punishing rhythm. Skin slapped against skin, his balls hitting my clit with every thrust. One hand fisted my hair, the other gripped my hip hard enough to bruise.
“Whose pussy is this?” he demanded, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot.
“Yours—fuck—yours, Jay!”
“That’s right.” He reached around to rub my clit in tight, fast circles. “Come on my cock like a good girl. Let me feel you.”
The orgasm ripped through me, walls clenching around his thick length as I shook and moaned. He rode me through it, thrusts growing erratic, then pulled out and flipped me onto my back again.
He buried his face between my thighs once more, licking up every drop of my release with long, hungry strokes. “Can’t get enough of this taste,” he muttered against my folds. “Could eat you for hours.”
I was oversensitive, trembling, but he didn’t stop until I was whimpering and pushing at his head. Only then did he crawl up and kiss me deeply, sharing my flavor.
“On top,” he ordered, lying back and pulling me over him. “Ride me. Show me how much you need my cock.”
I straddled him, sinking down slowly, savoring the way he filled me completely. His hands gripped my ass, guiding me as I started to move… rolling my hips, grinding down so my clit rubbed against his pelvis with every motion.
“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned, eyes hooded as he watched his cock disappear inside me. “So fucking beautiful taking every inch.”
He sat up suddenly, wrapping his arms around me, mouth latching onto my breasts again as I rode him harder. I threaded my fingers through his hair, tugging as I bounced on his cock. He met me thrust for thrust, one hand sliding between us to rub my clit.
The angle was devastating. I came again, clenching around him, and he flipped us so he was on top once more, pounding into me through the aftershocks.
He pulled out and moved down my body again, this time pushing my thighs up toward my chest, folding me in half. His tongue attacked my pussy and ass with renewed passion… licking, sucking, probing, while two fingers fucked into me and his thumb pressed against my clit. I was a mess of sobs and pleas, overstimulated and desperate for more.
“Please—Jay—I need you inside me again—”
He rose up and slammed back into me in one smooth motion, the new position letting him hit impossibly deep. His hand wrapped around my throat… not squeezing hard, just holding me there, possessive.
“Mine,” he repeated with every thrust. “No one else gets to see you like this. No one else gets to make you come like this.”
I clawed at his back, legs locked around his waist as another orgasm built. He leaned down, biting my shoulder, then soothing it with his tongue. His pace became brutal, hips snapping against mine, sweat slick skin sliding together.
“Come with me,” he growled. “Now.”
We shattered together. He buried himself to the hilt, pulsing deep inside me as my walls milked him through wave after wave of pleasure. His groan of my name… raw, broken, sent fresh aftershocks through me.
"Oh gosh—y/n fuck!"
We stayed locked together for long moments, breathing hard. Then he pulled out slowly, watching his cum drip from my pussy with dark satisfaction. He gathered some on his fingers and brought them to my lips. I sucked them clean without hesitation.
But he wasn’t done.
He slid down my body again, gentle this time, and began licking me clea… soft, deep strokes of his tongue that had me twitching and sighing. He paid attention to every sensitive inch, my clit, my entrance, even pressing soft kisses to my inner thighs where faint marks from his grip were already forming.
When he finally moved back up, he pulled me into his arms, my head on his chest. His hand stroked down my back in long, soothing lines.
“I hated seeing you with him,” he admitted quietly, the roughness gone from his voice, replaced by something vulnerable. “Even knowing it was just to piss me off.”
“I hated seeing her touch you,” I whispered back, pressing a kiss to his collarbone.
He tilted my chin up and kissed me… slow, deep, thorough. “No more games like that.”
“No more,” I agreed.
But even as we lay tangled together, bodies sated and hearts still racing, I knew the fire between us was far from extinguished. If anything, the jealousy had only stoked it higher.
He rolled us so I was beneath him again, already hardening against my thigh.
“Round two?” he murmured, lips brushing mine.
I smiled, wicked and wanting. “Make me forget every other name but yours.”
And he did… thoroughly, roughly, with his mouth and hands and cock worshipping every inch of me until the sky outside began to lighten and all that remained was the two of us, breathless and undeniably bound.
…
He lay awake long after I'd fallen asleep against his chest, staring at the ceiling of a hotel room in the one city on earth that seemed determined to keep rewriting the terms of his life without asking his permission first.
He'd meant what he said, in the heat of the argument, about making me pay for Lake Como… he'd meant it that first dinner, watching me go pale across the table as I recognized him, some petty, wounded part of him lighting up at the thought of finally getting to watch me squirm the way he'd squirmed reading that note. He'd built an entire plan around it, in the weeks after the engagement was announced. Charm her. Get close. Make her want him the way she'd wanted him in Lake Como, and then, at the last possible second, be the one who walked away first.
It hadn't survived the second week. It hadn't survived me falling asleep on his shoulder during a boring merger briefing, or the ridiculous, genuine way I argued about pineapple pizza like my life depended on it, or the morning I'd stayed in his bed instead of running, hand in his under the sheets, no note, no euros, no goodbye.
He looked down at me now, curled against him, and felt something settle in his chest that had nothing to do with revenge at all.
So much for making her pay, he thought, and pressed a kiss to the top of my head, careful not to wake me. Guess the joke's on me.
CHAPTER 9: THE MORNING AFTER THE MORNING AFTER
I woke up tangled in sheets that smelled like him, sunlight cutting gold across the same kind of luxury bed I'd woken up in months ago in a different hotel, in a different life, except this time there was no flight to catch, no note to write, no reason at all to leave.
Jay was already awake, propped on one elbow, watching me with an expression I didn't have a name for… something quieter than the smugness I'd come to expect, something that looked almost unguarded.
"No note this time?" he asked, but there was no real bite in it. Just a question, testing the ground.
"No note," I said. "I'm still here."
"You are." He reached out, tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and the gentleness of it undid me more than anything he'd said in the heat of the night before. "I keep waiting for you to run."
"I keep waiting for you to actually let me stay," I said, quieter than I meant to. "You've spent two months telling me you were going to make me pay for Lake Como."
"I know." His jaw tightened, something like guilt flickering across his face. "I meant it, at first. I wanted to. You made me feel like—" he stopped, exhaled, started again. "You made me feel like something I wasn't used to feeling, and then you left like it didn't matter, and I didn't know what to do with that except be angry about it."
"And now?"
"Now I don't know what I'm angrier about," he admitted. "That you left. Or how much I don't want you to leave again."
"For what it's worth," I said, tracing an absent pattern against his chest, "I thought about you. After Lake Como. More than I wanted to. I told myself it was because you were a mystery I hadn't solved. Turns out it was just because I liked you, and I didn't know what to do with that, either."
"You could've texted."
"I didn't have your number. That was rather the design flaw in my whole escape plan."
He huffed a laugh, low and real, pressing it into my hair. "I looked you up, you know. After the note. Took me two days and an embarrassing amount of Google searches involving 'Singaporean businesswoman' and 'Lake Como' before I gave up entirely."
"You didn't."
"I absolutely did. My assistant thought I'd lost my mind." He tipped my chin up with two fingers, the same gesture from the engagement photoshoot, except there was no camera now, no performance, just the two of us and the quiet. "Turns out I didn't need Google. I just needed my father to have terrible timing and worse business instincts."
"Remind me to thank him," I murmured, "right after I finish being furious at him."
I didn't know what to say to that. So I didn't say anything. I just reached for his hand under the sheets and let the silence be its own answer, and for one suspended, golden morning, it was almost enough to believe none of the rest of it… the merger, the arrangement, the families watching my every move like a stock ticker… mattered at all.
It wouldn't last. It never did, not for people like me.
…
I called Minji the second I landed back in Singapore, because if I didn't say any of this out loud to someone, I was fairly certain my own head was going to implode from the sheer volume of unprocessed feelings rattling around inside it.
"So," Minji said, the second she picked up, "you disappear on a stranger in Lake Como, said stranger turns out to be your arranged fiancé, and now you're calling me at nine in the morning sounding like you just ran a marathon. Catch me up."
"I think I like him," I said, miserable. "For real. Not in the fake engagement, keep up appearances way. In the actual, terrifying, can't-stop-thinking-about-him way."
There was a pause on the other end, and then Minji, ever helpful, burst out laughing. "You're just now figuring this out? I could've told you that the second you texted me a full paragraph about the way he tied his tie badly on purpose."
"That's not… that was an observation, not a—"
"It was absolutely a symptom." I could hear Minji grinning through the phone. "So what's the problem? You like him, presumably he likes you, considering the man rearranged an entire hotel's booking system to get you both in one bed—"
"The problem," I said, "is that this whole thing started because our fathers wanted a shipping contract. What if none of this is real? What if I fall for him for real and it turns out I'm just… convenient? The easiest option? The daughter who happened to be in the right hotel room at the right time?"
"Do you actually believe that," Minji asked, gentler now, "or are you just scared?"
I didn't answer right away, because I didn't have a good one. "Both, maybe."
"For what it's worth," Minji said, "I watched that man's face when you walked into that gala in navy. He did not look like a guy fulfilling a business obligation. He looked like a guy who forgot how to use words." A beat. "Stop trying to find the exit before you even know if you want one. That's the same thing you did in Lake Como the first time, and look how well that turned out."
I hung up feeling more unsettled than before I'd called, which I supposed was the entire point of calling Minji in the first place.
CHAPTER 10: THE FIGHT THAT ACTUALLY MATTERED…
The trouble with almost truths is that they don't survive daylight for long, and by the time Jay and I were both back in Singapore, back in the penthouse, back under the weight of two families and a merger worth more than either of our lives combined, the softness of Lake Como had curdled, slowly, into something more complicated.
It wasn't any one thing at first. It was the wedding planning eating into every spare hour of both our schedules, endless calls with caterers and venue coordinators and a florist who seemed personally offended by every choice I made. It was Jay's schedule filling up with calls from the conglomerate's Singapore office as the merger moved into its implementation phase, calls that ran later and later into the evening. It was the two of us, still learning how to be honest about wanting each other without immediately following it with a joke to soften the admission, slowly running out of jokes to hide behind and not yet having anything solid to replace them with.
It started, as these things always did, over something small. A dinner Jay canceled at the last minute for a call with Karina Yu's firm… purely business, he swore, and I believed him, mostly, except believing him didn't stop the old, ugly voice in my head from whispering that I was, at the end of the day, a business arrangement he could deprioritize whenever something more important came along.
"You could have told me sooner," I said, standing in the kitchen while he shrugged his jacket back on for the second time that night.
"I told you the second I knew."
"You told me twenty minutes before we were supposed to leave, Jay."
"It's work. This merger doesn't run itself just because we had a nice morning in Lake Como."
The words landed harder than he probably meant them to. A nice morning. Like that was all it had been. Like I hadn't spent the last week turning it over in my head, wondering if it meant what I desperately, quietly hoped it meant.
"Right," I said, voice gone flat. "Of course. Wouldn't want the merger to suffer because you spent an evening with your fiancée."
"That's not what I—"
"It's fine." It wasn't fine. We both knew it wasn't fine. "Go to your call."
He didn't go, not right away. He stood there in the kitchen doorway, jacket half on, looking at me like he wanted to say something and couldn't find the shape of it. "I'm scared," he finally said, so quietly I almost missed it. "Of how much I want this to be real. And every time I get close to saying that out loud, I remember it started because our fathers wanted a shipping contract, and I don't know how to trust that any of this is actually about us."
The anger drained out of me at once, replaced by something far more exposed. "I'm scared of the exact same thing," I admitted. "That's why I left Lake Como the first time. Not because of you. Because of how much I already didn't want to."
He crossed the kitchen in three steps and kissed me like he was trying to prove something to both of us at once, and when he pulled back, forehead resting against mine, he said, "Cancel your evening. I'll cancel the call. Let's just… figure this out. Together. No merger. No fathers. Just us."
We canceled the call together. Neither of us brought up Karina or Yeonjun again.
…
It didn't stay easy. I hadn't expected it to… nothing about the two of us had ever been easy, not from the very first night in a bar with too much rum in the drinks… but the fight that came three weeks later still managed to knock the wind out of me in a way none of the others had.
It was over something stupid, in looking into the past. Jay had made a decision about the wedding venue without consulting me… a favor to both fathers, he said, a way to smooth over a disagreement about vendor contracts that had nothing to do with either of us and everything to do with two companies trying to look good in front of shareholders. I'd found out from my mother, not from him, and something about hearing it secondhand had cracked open every insecurity I'd been quietly protecting since the day this arrangement started.
"You didn't think to ask me," I said, voice tight, "because at the end of the day, this is still a business decision to you. I'm still a line item."
"That's not fair."
"Isn't it? You made a decision about my wedding to smooth over a contract dispute, Jay. Tell me how that's not exactly what I was afraid of from the beginning."
"I did it because I was trying to protect you from getting dragged into another negotiation," he snapped, temper flaring to match mine. "I didn't think you'd rather sit through another four-hour meeting about seating charts and vendor exclusivity clauses just to prove a point."
"I'd rather you asked me. That's it. That's the whole point. You don't get to decide what I can handle."
"Maybe I overstepped." His voice cracked, just slightly, on the word. "But don't stand there and tell me this is still just business to me, because I have spent the last four months falling in love with a woman I met in a bar and then spent every day since terrified she was going to wake up one morning and leave another note."
The room went very quiet.
"That's not fair either," I said, softer now, the fight draining out of me as fast as it had risen. "Using that against me."
"I'm not using it against you. I'm telling you the truth, because I'm so far past pretending this is manageable that I don't know what else to do except be honest and hope it doesn't scare you off." He dragged a hand through his hair, the picture of a man who had clearly rehearsed a calmer version of this speech and abandoned it entirely under pressure. "I love you. I've loved you probably since the hotel room I woke up alone in. And I am so sick of both of us treating that like a liability instead of just… saying it."
I stood there, heart hammering, every practiced defense I'd built over the last four months suddenly useless in my hands. "You've never said that before."
"I'm saying it now." He looked, for the first time since I'd met him, genuinely unguarded… no charm, no smugness, nothing performative left in him at all. "I love you. And if you walk out that door right now, I'm not going to chase you, because I'm done being someone you run from. But I'd really, really rather you stayed."
I didn't walk out the door.
I crossed the room instead, and kissed him, and neither of us brought up seating charts again for the rest of the night.
…
Two days later, I came home to find the penthouse dark except for a trail of candles leading from the front door to the balcony, which was, I thought, either the most romantic thing Jay had ever attempted or a genuine fire hazard, possibly both.
"If you set off the smoke alarm," I called out, toeing off my heels, "I will never let you live it down."
"Just come outside," his voice floated back, suspiciously nervous for a man who negotiated multi-million-dollar contracts for a living without breaking a sweat.
I found him on the balcony in the same suit he'd worn the night of the engagement announcement, the harbor spread out gold and glittering behind him, and something in his posture… hands shoved in his pockets, weight shifting like he couldn't decide where to put himself… made my chest go tight before he'd said a single word.
"We're already engaged," I said slowly, eyeing the candles, the suit, the unmistakable set dressing of a moment he'd clearly planned. "This is either extremely romantic or you're about to tell me something has gone horribly wrong with the merger."
"Neither." He huffed a laugh, more nerves than humor in it, and pulled a small velvet box from his pocket… not the ring our families had already selected together for the official engagement, the one that had been photographed and press released and worn on my hand for months now, but a different one entirely, simpler, clearly chosen by him and no one else. "The first ring was picked by a committee. Our fathers, a jeweler, a PR team who wanted something 'photogenic for the press release.' I didn't get a say in it, and I don't think you did either. This one, I picked myself."
I stared at him, throat suddenly too tight to speak.
"I know we're already getting married," he continued, dropping to one knee anyway, the picture of a man determined to do this properly no matter how backwards the order of operations had gotten. "I know the contracts are signed and the venue's booked and my father's already started planning the honeymoon like it's his own. But none of that was ever really us choosing this. So I wanted to ask you myself. Not because a merger needs it. Because I do." He opened the box… a simple band, understated, nothing like the statement piece on my hand already. "Will you Marry me, y/n? For real this time. Not because of Lake Como, or the contract, or the note, or any of the reasons this started. Just because I love you, and I'd choose you even if none of the rest of it had ever happened."
"You're an idiot," I said, laughing and crying at once, dropping to my knees on the balcony floor to be level with him because I couldn't stand to have him below me for this. "You already had me. You've had me since the boat, or the pizza argument, or possibly since the very first night, I genuinely can't tell anymore."
"Is that a yes?"
"That's a yes." I kissed him before he could say anything else insufferably charming, and somewhere behind me, entirely unnoticed until this exact moment, I registered that he'd set up a small speaker quietly playing something slow and warm, the kind of song that made the whole ridiculous, candlelit, slightly hazardous scene feel like something out of a life I never would have predicted for myself a year ago and wouldn't trade now for anything.
"For the record," Jay said, sliding the second ring onto my finger beside the first, "I'm keeping both rings on you. One for the contract our fathers wanted. One for the choice we actually made."
"Sentimental," I accused.
"Only for you," he said, and meant it.
CHAPTER 11: FULL CIRCLE
The final signing ceremony for the merger was scheduled, fittingly, for Lake Como… the same business, the same lake, the same string light terraces where this entire impossible chain of events had started. My father called it poetic. I called it the universe having an extremely specific sense of humor.
This time, there was no confusion about the hotel booking. Jay booked the suite himself, one bed, no crescent moon couch in sight, and when I raised an eyebrow at him over the reservation confirmation, he just shrugged, entirely unbothered.
"Figured we'd save everyone the trouble of pretending," he said.
The signing went smoothly… my father practically glowing with the kind of pride that came from watching two companies and two children merge into one very profitable future. Chairman Park shook my hand with real warmth, told me Jay had been, in his words, "unbearable to live with" in the weeks after Lake Como the first time, and that he was glad to see I'd apparently cured that particular ailment. I'd laughed, genuinely, and looked over to find Jay watching me with an expression that had nothing to do with business at all.
That night, after the papers were signed and the champagne toasts made and the last of the business's executives had finally, mercifully, gone home, I found myself back on the same terrace where I'd first met him… string lights, dark water, a version of myself that had walked into this exact spot months ago convinced she'd never see this man again.
"You know," Jay said, coming to stand beside me at the railing, his tie long gone, sleeves rolled to his forearms, "I used to think about what I'd say to you. If I ever saw you again. I had this whole speech planned. Very cutting. Very devastating."
"What happened to it?"
"You showed up at my dinner table three weeks later and I forgot every word of it." He turned to face me fully, and whatever careful distance he usually kept even now, even after everything, was entirely gone from his eyes. "I don't want to make you pay for Lake Como anymore. I just want Lake Como. Again. With you. For real this time… not a stranger's name, not a note on a hotel notepad. All of it. If you'll let me."
My throat tightened. "I was so sure I'd never see you again," I admitted. "I left because staying scared me more than leaving did. I didn't know how to want something that wasn't part of a plan I'd already made for my life."
"And now?"
"Now the plan includes you," I said. "Which terrifies me a little less every day."
He reached for my hand, threading his fingers through mine, and I let him pull me back toward the suite with none of the panic of that first morning, none of the urgency to run before the sun came up. This time, I wanted to stay for the sunrise.
We walked the short distance to our suite. The moment the door closed, the rest of the world fell away. Jay turned to me under the soft glow of the bedside lamps, the moonlit Lake Como sparkling beyond the windows like a painting made just for us. No rush. No games. Only the quiet weight of everything we had finally admitted.
He cupped my face with both hands and kissed me deeply… slow, soulful, like he was pouring every unsaid feeling into the press of his lips. His thumbs stroked my cheeks as his tongue gently explored my mouth, tempting soft sighs from me. I melted against him, hands sliding up his chest to loosen his tie and work open the buttons of his shirt.
“I love you,” he breathed between kisses, voice low and thick with emotion. “Not because of the merger, or our families, or Lake Como. Just you. The woman who argues with me about pineapple on pizza and rearranges my closet to drive me crazy.”
Tears pricked at my eyes as I smiled against his mouth. “I love you too. I think I have for a long time… I was just too scared to stay.”
He kissed the corner of my eye, then my temple, then the sensitive spot beneath my ear. With soft hands, he eased the zipper of my dress down my spine, following the path with his lips… pressing open mouthed kisses along my shoulders and the nape of my neck. The fabric slid to the floor in a whisper. He unclasped my bra and let it fall away, then hooked his fingers into my panties and drew them down my legs, dropping to one knee to kiss my thighs, my knees, the delicate skin just above my ankles as he helped me step out.
When I stood completely bare before him, he rose slowly, eyes dark with desire but softened by something far deeper. I finished undressing him with the same care… pushing his shirt off his broad shoulders, tracing the lines of muscle in his chest and abdomen, unbuckling his belt and sliding his trousers and boxers down until he was as bare as I was.
Jay lifted me effortlessly and laid me in the center of the large bed. He followed, covering my body with his, but keeping most of his weight on his forearms so I felt surrounded, protected, cherished. He kissed me for a long time… deep, slow kisses that left me breathless… before trailing his mouth downward.
He lavished attention on my breasts, sucking one nipple into his mouth while rolling the other between his fingers, switching sides with unhurried devotion until I was arching and whimpering. Lower still, he kissed every inch of my stomach, my hips, the tops of my thighs. Then he settled between my spread legs, spreading me open with gentle hands.
“Look at you,” he murmured, voice full of awe. “So beautiful. So mine.”
His tongue traced a slow, broad stripe from my entrance to my clit, then circled the swollen bud with patient, loving strokes. He took his time, exploring every fold, savoring my taste with soft hums of pleasure that vibrated through me. Two thick fingers eased inside me, curling gently against that perfect spot while his mouth sealed over my clit, sucking with tender rhythm. The pleasure built gradually, like a wave rolling in from far away, growing deeper and warmer until it crashed over me in a long, shuddering orgasm. I cried out his name softly, thighs trembling around his head as he licked me through every pulse, gentle and devoted.
He kissed his way back up my body, settling between my thighs. His cock… thick, heavy, and leaking at the tip… nudged against my slick entrance. Our eyes locked as he pushed in slowly, letting me feel every inch as he stretched and filled me completely. When he bottomed out, he stayed there, buried deep, forehead pressed to mine.
“Feel us,” he whispered. “This is real.”
We moved together in a slow, rocking rhythm. Long, deep strokes that dragged pleasure through every nerve ending. His hips rolled against mine in a sensual grind, hitting that spot inside me with each thrust. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, holding him as close as physically possible. Our breaths mingled, soft moans and whispered “I love you" filling the space between kisses.
Jay slipped a hand between us, fingers finding my clit and circling it with perfect, gentle pressure. The pace stayed tender but grew more intense… deeper, more intentional thrusts as pleasure coiled tighter inside me. I came again with a broken moan, walls fluttering and clenching around him, pulling him deeper. He followed moments later, burying himself to the hilt with a low, guttural groan of my name as he spilled inside me, pulsing hot and deep.
Even after, he stayed buried within me, holding me close while we caught our breath. He rolled us onto our sides, facing each other, still connected. His hand stroked down my back in long, soothing lines, fingers tracing my spine, my hips, the curve of my waist. I pressed soft kisses to his chest, his collarbone, the hollow of his throat.
“No more running,” he said quietly, tilting my chin up to kiss me again… slow and sweet.
“No more notes,” I replied, smiling against his lips. “Just us. Every morning. Every night.”
We stayed like that for a long while, trading lazy kisses and touches, bodies still joined, hearts finally in perfect sync. Eventually he pulled out gently, cleaned us both with a warm cloth from the bathroom, then pulled me back into his arms. I fell asleep with my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, the same lake outside the window that had once watched me slip away now witnessing me stay… willingly, completely, forever.
The universe had brought us full circle. This time, we were exactly where we belonged.
CHAPTER 12: THE HILLS, REPRISE
Minji threw me a bachelorette dinner two nights before the wedding… small, just a handful of close friends on a rooftop bar overlooking the exact stretch of harbor I could see from the penthouse, which Minji swore was a coincidence and I was fairly sure was not.
"To the world's most chaotic love story," Minji said, raising her glass. "One night stand, arranged marriage, at least one shouting match that the building's security definitely heard—"
"That happened one time—"
"… and somehow, against every possible odd, an actual, real, sickeningly cute relationship. I still can't believe you almost didn't recognize him at that dinner."
"I recognized him immediately," I admitted. "I was just praying I was wrong."
"And now?"
I looked out at the water, dark and glittering, not so different from the lake that had started all of this, and felt something settle in my chest that had taken the better part of a year to arrive. "Now I can't imagine having prayed for anything else."
Across town, in a considerably less sentimental gathering, Jay was enduring a bachelor party that mostly consisted of his closest friends ribbing him mercilessly about the note.
"Money for the minibar," one of them said, for what had to be the fortieth time that week, raising a glass in mock tribute. "A toast… to the greatest insult ever survived by a Park heir."
"I've moved past it," Jay said, entirely unconvincingly.
"You named your dog after the hotel."
"That's… unrelated."
It was not, in fact, unrelated, and everyone at the table knew it, and Jay let them have the joke because some jokes you'd earned by now, and because in two days none of it was going to matter anyway. He was going to marry the woman who'd left that note, and somewhere between the fury and the note and the year that followed, he'd stopped thinking of it as something to make her pay for and started thinking of it as the first sentence of a story he was, against every prediction he'd have made about his own life, deeply grateful to be living.
…
The Ceremony…
The wedding, when it finally came, was nothing like the dinner where it had all started… no stiff formality, no families sizing each other up across a table like it was a negotiation. Just our two families, genuinely joined this time instead of merely merged, and Jay at the end of the aisle wearing the same crooked, unguarded smile he'd worn the night he first bought me a drink with too much rum in it and told me that I looked like I was thinking too hard for someone on vacation.
"You're doing that thing again," he murmured, when I finally reached him, voice pitched for only me to hear. "Thinking too hard."
"I'm just wondering," I whispered back, "if you're going to make me regret leaving that note for the rest of our lives."
"Every single day," he said, grinning. "But mostly because it's the reason I got to fall in love with you twice."
When it came time for vows, Jay went first, and the room, which had been politely rustling with the low murmur of two hundred guests, went entirely still.
"I had a whole speech written," he admitted, pulling a folded card from his jacket pocket and then, after a beat of consideration, tucking it away again unread. "My assistant helped me write it. It had a quote from a poet I've never actually read in it, to sound sophisticated. But I think you'd know if I was reading someone else's words instead of mine, so… here's the truth instead. I met a woman in a bar who told me she was working, at eleven at night, in a bar, and I thought that was the funniest, most transparent lie I'd ever heard, and I decided right then I wanted to know everything else she wasn't telling me. It took me a lot longer than I'd like to admit to realize that the version of myself I like best is the one that exists around you… the one that argues about pizza toppings and loses fights about thermostats and gets absurdly, embarrassingly jealous over nothing. I promise to keep choosing that version of myself, and to keep choosing you, for every single day we get, starting today and not stopping for a very long time."
My own vows came out shakier than I'd rehearsed them in the mirror that morning, but I got through them anyway. "I left you a note once," I said, and heard the ripple of laughter move through the crowd, most of whom had heard some version of that story by now. "I told you it wasn't you, it was timing. I have never told a bigger lie in my entire life. It was absolutely you. You were the first person who ever made me want to stay somewhere I hadn't planned on staying, and I've spent the year since trying to figure out how to say that without sounding as terrified as I actually was. I'm not scared anymore. I choose this… I choose you… not because of a contract, or our fathers, or a shipping deal neither of us fully understood at the time, but because somewhere between a bar in Lake Como and this exact terrace, you stopped being an arrangement and started being home."
Minji, somewhere in the crowd, would later swear she heard me laugh mid vow, which was, everyone agreed, entirely on brand.
Chairman Park gave a toast at the reception that started as a speech about shipping tariffs and ended, somewhere around his third glass of champagne, in genuine tears about how he'd never seen his son smile the way he smiled around me, contract or no contract. My father, not to be outdone, stood up next and admitted… publicly, in front of two hundred guests… that he'd fully expected me to hate the arrangement forever, and that watching me dance at my own wedding like I'd chosen this myself was the best business decision he'd ever made and he intended to take full credit for it at every future shareholder meeting.
"He's never going to let this go, is he," Jay murmured against my ear, swaying with me under string lights that looked, deliberately, unmistakably, like the ones from a terrace in Lake Como.
"Never," I agreed. "You're stuck being his favorite success story for the rest of your life."
"Worse things to be stuck with," he said, and spun me once, easy and sure, the same way he had the very first night, except this time there was no mystery left between us at all… no last name withheld, no hotel notepad, no note to write in a panic before a flight. Just the two of us, exactly where we'd both, somewhere along the way, decided we wanted to be.
Later, much later, when the guests had thinned and the band had switched to something slower, Jay pulled me toward the edge of the terrace, away from the noise, and pressed his forehead to mine the way he had the night everything finally cracked open between us.
"No regrets?" he asked. "Even with everything it took to get here?"
"None," I said. "Although I do think you owe me for two months of insufferable jealousy and a color coded closet war."
"I owe you," he agreed, "for a lot more than that. I'll be paying it off for the rest of our lives. I'm looking forward to it."
…
Years later…
Somewhere over the years that followed… the arguments that still happened, because two people that stubborn were never going to stop clashing entirely, and the jealousy that occasionally flared, more playful now than desperate, and the quiet mornings that mattered more than either of us had expected an arranged marriage to ever produce… I'd think back, sometimes, to a stranger in a bar in Lake Como who told me that I looked like trouble.
He'd been right. He usually was, though I'd never admit that to his face.
There would be more trips to Lake Como over the years… anniversaries, mostly, an unspoken tradition neither of us had planned but both of us protected fiercely, the same terrace, the same string lights, a standing reservation at a hotel that still, to this day, kept a bowl of untouched fruit in every suite because Jay had once complained, half joking, that nobody ever ate it. There would be a dog, badly named, exactly as his friends had predicted. There would be, eventually, a nursery my mother had been quietly hoping for since the night of that very first engagement announcement, though that particular chapter belonged to a different story entirely.
I wouldn't have changed a single second of it. Not the note. Not the running. Not the fights, or the jealousy, or the year it took the two of us to stop being afraid of wanting something that started as an arrangement and ended up as the realest thing either of us had ever had.
Some things, it turned out, were worth staying for.
THE END
I hope you guys like this fic! I didn't get to proofread it properly, so hopefully everything makes sense! I lowkey teared up writing the end of it. I really like this storyline so I hope I delivered it well! If you have any suggestion what who or what I can write next please drop a comment!
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⋮ ⌗ ┆概要⨾ pearl bite restores the smiles of vampires and humans alike, folks travelling nationwide to attain results from the man and myth himself, park sunghoon. running a successful dental practice isn't easy, long hours invested and feeding schedules sidelined. luckily for him, you've never been one to forget.
朴成训 𝔁 𝒻 .ᐟ读者 ── 5.6k
explicit content ⋆ smut (mdni)、heavy mentions of blood & biting/feeding (sunghoon feeds from the reader during sex)、condescending dom!sunghoon、sub!reader、established relationship、hints of brat & brat tamer dynamics、degradation/humiliation、vaginal fingering、handjob、semi public sex、exhibitionism、breath play、unprotected sex (don't do this)、creampie、hints of pain kink、hung!hoon、size & bulge kink、slight praise & crying、reference to marking/beard burn、an attempt at some fluff and angst..petnames used: perfect/sweet girl、princess.⌇ℳ.list
⋮ ⌗ ┆便条⨾ so...how about them vampire brand drops? 😁 the teasers released so far feel really fun but are so polished and align so well wih enha's vampire concept! their creative team always has my heart. they definitely have my heart for this concept alone, which...i wrote because my other wips were mocking me 😭 perhaps imposter syndrome will give me a break the next time i visit them, but for now, enjoy this corner of my brain :3 haven't written about vampires before, so a lot of creative freedom is taken here! let your imagination run free and as always, much loveeee! <333
Downtown is abuzz, springtime bringing out lifeforms in their fullest, humans on a leisurely stroll and vampires in their element, nightfall cast to upheave the sluggishness of day, canines bared and timeless beauty arresting. On the way to your destination, a concrete jungle of scaffolding and pets on leashes, you stop at an intersection. Cars zoom, traffic lights ticking down until they turn green again. The road, a blur of cars would usually have your attention, if not for the huge billboard plastered above the pizzeria and jazz bar just ahead.
Pearl Bite: A bloodless white, a perfect smile.
Your own faux canines show, tongue run beneath their point as your eyes dazzle at the advert. Specifically, the creator and model for Pearl Bite ─ your one and only boyfriend.
College sweethearts, Sunghoon describes your romance as a sneaky attack on your behalf, nothing but his passion on his mind, only to be derailed. The brilliance of your smile, the heartiness of your laugh, your endless glow he couldn't shy away from. The next century is meant to build upon his newly-found interest in dentistry, open his own practice with amassed generational wealth and give back to his community. His initial plan only accounts for vampires, at the mercy of many cycled conversations of blood-stained fangs and how there's no vampire-equivalent for teeth-whitening. Then he meets you, unknowingly opens himself up more to the human experience, recognizes how they can differ vastly from his own, yet share so many similarities.
You're the most selfless person he knows, a long-line of people served before you're last in line. Amongst the juggle of others' needs and aspirations, yours kind of included somewhere, he learns you're a product of everything you've ever loved and suffered from too. In the months passing too quick for his liking - still toeing the line of friendship(ish) - you bare yourself to him in the late night diner you work at.
The one he walks you home from, drinks the shitty coffee because you've brewed it. The things vampires do for love.
In a dim corner booth, your chin perches on your folded arms, fingers drumming against a table you're yet to clean and are honestly too tired to at this point. It's been non-stop shifts packed into a never-ending semester, and whilst your job's meant to supplement your means of living, it also serves another purpose.
"I owe my mom everything," you start, the bat of your lashes turning Sunghoon into a statue, knowing what's to come yet unsure. Uncertain how to proceed. "No matter how little we had to our name, she always made sure I was taken care of. That if one of us was happy, it was always me,"
Your nose twitches, eyes glossy with a sigh coming from trembling lips. A vague crack sounds in his chest.
He wishes his hand had the kind of warmth you'd lean into.
"Losing her best friend, and in a way, losing me ─ has brought her to her knees," your fingers drum, pupils shaking as you will your tears to only exist before your waterline. "I'm doing as much as I can, but there's only so much to do from across the country. I can't check in on her and the house between lectures, I can't pay for anything medical other than some lousy insurance, I can't transfer that weight to myself,"
"Because at least then, it wouldn't be her burden to bear."
The welled emotions in your chest demand you to straighten, more space for lungs to expand and when stray tears fall, you can only exhale, elbows propped to the table to wipe them away. Your hand falls to the surface in perfect timing, searing skin meeting a cool, steady palm. You're just as still as him, the thump of your heart felt in Sunghoon's fingertips, all the way through to his ears ringing with its race. Only empathy occupies him, remnants of a life before immortality tethering you two together by more than held hands, the quiet compassion he delivers sticking with you forever.
Time has since passed, that corner booth a bittersweet memory. In spite of long-carried pain, you and your mom see brighter days ─ graduation, your first adult job, the return of her smile. Depression has a way of mystifying the future ahead of you, the present clouded in miserable, inescapable grey clouds. To push on takes all the more effort, so things start to give ─ sleep, appetite and the wither of everything else. While she's managed to pick herself up by the aid of you and others, your mom still holds a keepsake she'd rather do without. A dimmed smile you're doing your best to help restore. But in a household where annual doctor's trips are rare, the luxury doesn't come easy. And by the time you're examining what other expenses to cut back on, Sunghoon pitches his latest project.
Pearl Bite, for humans and vampires alike.
Endless trials, modifications, moulds that have bitten the dust and brave participants that bring his dream into fruition. Only now, his dream accounts for not only you, but your mother. Additional modules and clinicals to fit in the study of human teeth, revitalizing the last part of a past your mother is moving forward from. And when everything's said and done, your mother instinctively cowers from the mirror before she weeps, holding onto Sunghoon with a life force as gratitude soaks into his white coat. In the corner, his eyes find you, the water-lined tears in your eyes like then, now reflecting the kind of appreciation and love he knows is priceless.
Pearl Bite takes off, his humble practice fighting to accommodate for the onslaught of patients he tries helping. People come from far and wide, all with a story that picks at their nails and prompts reluctance when it comes time for Sunghoon's inspection. Overbites, plaque, shaven-down fangs, blood stains ─ the list goes on. However, their reluctance is all but forgotten once he commits himself to their well-being, a sigh of relief filling his mask before he hands over what feels like a magic mirror, sorrow turning into happiness. One practice isn't enough, not for endless clients, or aspiring dentists with the same aspirations. Multiple dot themselves across the country, his time split between sights he flies to (your stomach still drops whenever both your feet leave the ground). He has a line of products, an alternative solution for those he cannot meet and to no surprise, it takes off. You climb your own career ladder, finding something just as meaningful and building your life together with the man who saved yours and your mother's smile.
His practice bustles as it always does, a mixture of clients flipping through magazines or sharing stories in the waiting room. To his assistance, you wave, your presence always welcome when your schedules align. In the hall leading to his office, your head nods at more waiting patients, smile brimmed in manner with a glance at the clock.
It's feeding time.
A flutter in your chest disturbs the peace you've maintained for the day's majority, current sparked as your palm meets the door handle of his office, shallowly pulled to the side only to let yourself in. No one occupies the dental unit, spotlight tucked away with the space sterilised and clean, its sleek hues of white, grey and muted baby blue burrowing comfort in your chest. Attempts to slow the rabbit Sunghoon hears, a heartbeat so attuned to he forgoes his inventory count and goes to filter back into the main room, surprise alight in his eyes as he's urged back.
"I didn't know you were coming," his voice carries the sentiment, the half-hearted draw of his inventory's door schemed behind you.
Innocence brims in your smile nonetheless, arms strung around him as his hands fall to your waist, steady and firm.
"You forgot your dinner."
"Dinner?" a lone eyebrow raises, the slope of his nose in full view as his head turns to the mini fridge metres away. "I should have enough blood bags for─"
Your nails rake through his nape hairs once and for all, stepping back before you haul yourself on the counter space he'd been working so diligently on, showcasing the dinner he's seemingly left behind.
You.
No one would bat an eyelash at the length of your skirt, a conservative length if not for an extra long stride ─ the cross of your legs ─ where skin reveals itself, blemishing with incessant teeth marks, beard burn and a mouth pulling into a disbelieving smile as you reveal yourself to him, making sure to crane your neck enough to hint at the location of his last feed.
"So," mischief lives in the lines of your smirk, your own canines peeking through in an ask. "Will you finish what you started?"
With centuries spent living amongst vampires and humans, you'd think Sunghoon would have some know-how. Predict the patterns humans have made of themselves, ingrained in wired DNA passed down from generation to generation. Yet, you always seem to surprise him. Bring the disbelieving and amused laughter out his huffing chest, his proximity drawn closer as his hands staple on either side of your thighs, skirt material bunched in your lap, goosebump-riddled from the arctic temperature of his office.
His eyes burn with a dial of lust, iris colouring into a wine hue before his pupils swallows the field whole, gaze flickered between your eyes and lips.
"This is risky," he notes, nosing along your jaw. The instinct to give your neck away wears him down more than you'll know. "Anyone could come in and see us. Hear us,"
He deserts the raised skin trail he's created from slight grazes alone, satisfaction on his lips as he creates space to marvel at the mess you're boiling down to.
"But that's what gets you off, right?" his fangs show, his grin too amused and cocky to shield them, his head tilted to only emphasis his point. "Just can't keep your pretty moans to yourself."
Air fills your lungs through a nasal inhale, chest slumping with a gulp audible to your own ears. You'd waltzed in here first, you can't lose control just yet.
You bring yourself closer to the counter's edge, skirt riding up further to expose hints of lace, knowing it'll do nothing but torment him. Taunt him as his canine and lower teeth toy with an inner piece of his check, restraint tested.
"Come on, you haven't fed in days," he's standing straighter, hands off the counter. He's close enough though, the perfect distance for your leg to hook at his lower back and draw him in, your hand waiting before his length eventually throbs in your palm, your grin a work of sin as you peer up at him with dark magic eyes. "I know you're hungry."
Control is commanded, and to some extent, Sunghoon submits. Lets you carry out your charade, allows the concept of power to exist in your frame of mind. However, deep down, you both know. Undeterred, Sunghoon lets you palm his growing erection, smirking like it doesn't turn him on. Like he doesn't give your hand one grind, starved for friction.
His hand raises to outline the shell of your ear with his fingertip, pleased with the shiver erupting down your spine.
"Funny how blood and sex are so intertwined," he leads, voice husky as his eyes fall to yours again, standing their ground. "For you, especially."
It's meant to be a call out. In some measure, you suffer from its consequences, prickly skin and heated cheeks. However, you've been with Sunghoon long enough to quit playing shy. You plan to spend eternity with him too, it's only natural you reward him with your honesty.
"It's another layer of intimacy," the sweetness of your words juxtapose your actions, palm firm against his shaft as your thumb glides over his tip in sweet, torturous motions, smile stretching at the waver of his breath. You cock your head, a call for attention. "Wouldn't you agree?"
He's close like this now, shuffled to you in a tighter circle of your hooked legs, the column of his throat licked. The grain of stubble against your tongue hums your pleasure into his skin, his own mirrored sound coming when your teeth nibble on the teased skin.
"Hmph," he groans, losing focus. Losing to you. "I do, but my mind can't help but wonder,"
Further words peaks your interest, Sunghoon's hand settling across your neck, face further away as he handles you for his viewing pleasure. His other set of knuckles push his glasses up his nose bridge, chin lifted as he looks at you through low eyes, the quiet but hard thump of your pulse meeting the pad of his thumb.
"If it's the euphoric high you're starved for," Sunghoon's thumb moves over the tender skin, thump gaining traction as you attempt withstanding his complete read of you. "Or maybe it's the slight pain,"
Through the time you've known Sunghoon, you've only ever known him to be humble. No matter what feat he reaches, trait or skill he posses and displays, he'll pretend as if it's not his own. Won't gloat, won't brag ─ except for times like these.
When he's got you right where he wants, his fangs pinpoint on your skin between the fan of his thumb, your heartbeat the equivalent of being chased.
You hear his smirk first before you see it, space created again as his eyes cannot be without your sight for too long.
"Which one is it?"
The hand that'd been palming him arrests the counter's edge, knuckles burning white in an act of self-restraint. Control you're being frayed to abandon, a harsh run of your tongue on the back of your teeth as your other leg hooks behind him, nowhere to hide as your hip roll to meet his, a grind you see chipping away at him.
Pressure adds to the grasp on your neck ─ a test to you too.
"Wouldn't you like to know."
Again, that almost incredulous yet amused chuckle meets your ears, this time more mocking as Sunghoon's tongue pokes his inner cheek, his eyes bleeding over with an intensity you've only been anticipating.
"I'll find out either way," one corner of his lip lifts, small but all-knowing. "Spread your legs."
The last thing you'll do is indulge him, even if your body aches for him in the worst way ─ bone deep, lust sinking in your body like an anchor. You're already pressed against him, the friction of few layers a blessing in disguise for someone as insatiable as you are. This, you can do with. The same can't be said for Sunghoon, who in the questioning look he gives you, your smile extends ─ a slice of heaven and a lot of hell.
"What's with the attitude?" he chuckles, one last squeeze against the sides of your neck to make you squeak. The departures paves the way for his impatience, enough strength to pry your crossed ankles apart. "Didn't you want this all along? Treated the way you are in my office because you couldn't wait?"
You can't compete against an immortal, his strength bending your body to his will, thighs braced against the arctic counter top. Spread to his liking.
"Ah, that's why," it's the second time in such little time you've heard him smirk, a more evil moon crescent shape to his eyes as he marvels between your legs. Specifically, the wetness that's soaked through the flimsy fabric. "It's okay, I want you just as much."
A gentle kiss is pressed to your forehead, because your ego has its' moments, bruising like a peach. You could huff, turn away from the supposed affection he gives you, but he's quicker. A peck to the tip of your nose and happiness in the light chuckle he does afterwards.
Then, when you're looking at him again, albeit reluctantly, he smiles regardless. Cups your cheeks, holding you as if porcelain and kisses you. Soft and pillowy, lingering to savour the simple press of flesh, a slow and sweet swirl back into desire. Melting in his cold grasp, you move in patterns known to each other, the audacity to start pulling away breathing a snicker between your lips, his smile against your lips after he's chased them, your own introduced moments later.
He picks you apart in the most delicate way, undoing you with adoring kisses and assured hands, consuming you with every breath he steals, hands of desperation hinging themselves against his arms. Sunghoon kisses you as if it's your last, with deeper meaning coming from the lifetimes he's lived, your bottom lip between his teeth as he tugs gently.
A move applicable to everyone. Doing its worst to you.
While other teeth tease, his fangs threaten, a harsher skim against the flesh your breath hitches at, a swipe of his tongue meant to soothe, only to fuel the fire burning in you.
While his hands no longer cradle your face, he kisses you without fault. Pouring affection into the tender overlap of lips, the only thing you manage to do is lift your hips as his hands tug your panties down your legs, tucked away in his back pocket as a souvenir. If you weren't so dazed, you'd make fun of him, like when you'd felt his cock kick when you'd started kissing, the venture of your tongue making him sigh a stuttered breath.
Smacked lips and laboured breaths no longer only occupy the office/closet space, abundance of slick lapped up on the span of two fingers, the most piled on Sunghoon's fingertips as they tease your entrance, thumb doing slow circles against your clit.
Fingers carding through his hair, your breath stutters in his mouth. Whines and huffed whimpers bleed into his kiss-stained lips as his fingers push in with no resistance, welcomed as your walls conform to their shape. He stretches you with the scissors of his fingers, the stretch simmering with a touch of discomfort, grinding down to blooming pleasure as you yield, his fingers 'curl pushed into the spot making you see stars.
"Think I'll give your thighs a break," Sunghoon whispers, your tongue dipped into the curve of his lips. "All those hickeys and beard burn can't be good for you ─ too much friction,"
"N-not enough," you wail, running feverishly hot and without any care, bucking your hips helplessly. "Want ─ more."
"I've made you such a greedy thing, haven't I?" he murmurs, humming at all the sounds you reward him with ─ vulnerable moans, sloppy kisses you try giving but it's no use. You're gone, in too deep to realise the moment you'd walked into his office, your fate had been sealed.
Other points deserve attention, is Sunghoon's thought process as he leaves your lips with one last slow kiss, saliva strung between your quivering lips before he peppers his way down your chin, up the curve of your jaw and stops right below your earlobe. You know where he'll go next and it sends a buzz through your every cell, makes you tremble and shake. And before your brain can catch up to the signs, Sunghoon knows too.
Hears the chaos of your heart, the disarray of your pulse and plays along.
"Haven't even got to your neck and you're leaking all over my fingers," he muses, a peck smacked onto the dipped skin before his teeth catch onto the fleshy part, a fang punctured close to where your lone piercing is. An automatic response is relayed by your body. "Squeezing my fingers for all their worth, huh?"
Lolled to the side, a partial part in purpose but the other because your head's swarmed in haziness, twice its weight from Sunghoon consuming you, his non-beating heart having the decency to not prolong your long-awaited ask. He descends, inches but makes his way with the tread of his teeth down your neck column.
"What happened to that little attitude of yours, sweet girl?" he asks, the squelch and twitch of your body unearthing a rarity in condescending nature. "Did I fingerfuck it out of you, hm? You wanna be my good girl now?"
You nod hard enough to feel the jumble of your brain, cut up into pieces and free-floating in your zero-gravity headspace.
"You know nods won't do," he's there. The exact spot he feeds from, and it's maddening. The release of adrenaline, the rabbit chase your heart does, nails scraping into marble.
He noses along the mark, a momentary pause noting how gone he is for you too, intoxicated at the mere scent of your blood before everything crumbles, his willpower the only thing standing as he pries away, looking you in your eyes as he says,
"Let me hear you say it, princess."
"I'll─I'll be good," the words slosh in your mouth, lips pressed to muffle your desperate squeaks. "I just─just let me come please?"
"I'm no animal," dark laughter licks up your spine, stuck in its slouch as Sunghoon's rhythm picks up, fingertips knocking deepest in you, your jaw pried open in silent surprise. "I couldn't deprive you if I tried."
"Come on, sweet girl," he comes closer, fresh linen scent engulfing you as a kiss lays upon your temple. "The quicker you let go, the faster you get my cock."
The quicker he'll feed.
The mere thought is almost like magic, contracting your walls in an impossible squeeze as the coil in your stomach sizzles at the tips of your toes, shooting up to burst through every avenue ─ every pore ─ of your body. Detonating right in the palm of his hand, he kisses your wails away until they subside, fingers working you until you're twitchy and overly sensitive, glossy eyed yet itching to unbutton his slacks.
"Impatience will get you hurt," is his later comment, letting you mess with the buckle of his belt, metallic clashes resonating through the room. Dripping more slick onto his office counter. "So rushed when you'll struggle taking me."
The last notch of his zipper sounds louder than the rest, your head snapped in his direction. "Now, that you can't mock me for,"
Your eyes drop down to the heavy bulge imprinting through his briefs and slacks, hoping his eyes follow along.
"I take your literal monster cock like a champ, thank you."
"Give or take."
You kiss your teeth, knowing better but still cursing at him in your head.
"Whatever," your eyes roll, pushing enough of his waistband down to get your hand around his cock. Barely, but it's not of the essence. What is is the need his tip heats with, generous precome beaded in his slit your thumbs runs over. A hiss releases in spite of his efforts, met with the cockiness of your grin. "You're the one who needs me here,"
"Blood bags only taste so good," you drawl, pulling him out to get a better handle of his length. Head ducked to dribble spit on his skin as makeshift lube, enveloped by your palm in a mixture with precome as your hand comes up and twists up his veined shaft. Now it's his turn for braced hands on the counter's edge, his grip strong enough to snap the marble in two. The thought ignites lightning in your stomach.
Your mouth gets the chance for payback ─ hovering over the shell of his pointed one, a lapsed breath released in the anticipation of your words. The slow, tight jerk of your hand. "And none can get you off, so…"
A huff of defeat ─ still humoured ─ sounds past your shoulder, Sunghoon's back muscles flexing through the white coat ruffling as he pushes off the table, hair slicked back back as his fingers run through dark strands, his pale features accented with a pretty rosy tint.
Lips swollen with kisses. Skin glittering in the low light.
"You're annoying," his hands swats away yours, his focal point you as your figure reflects in the honey sweet hue of his eyes. "I love you."
"Love you t─ah!"
Sunghoon had knocked your knees further apart, lined himself with your entrance and now, starts to slide his length in. Ever since your last orgasm, you'd hinged on his counter for the moment his cock would stretch you out, but even if your eyes blindly followed his shifts, you'd got lost in his confession. The sheer honesty and sincerity brimming in his eyes as he said so, his last words to you before you reconnect again as one.
A frantic hand jumps to secure yourself on one plane of his shoulder, a sharp inhale sucking in all frigid air of his office into your shaken lungs, the bitten back moan he lets slip flooding the glide of his length, inches sparingly used. Yet the thought of being split open remains alive and well.
"You're good, you can take it."
It's one of his sentences that doesn't reek of condescension, the kind of sugary encouragement you can't help but want to do your best for, relying on your practiced methods of breathing and trying to relax. Except to accommodate to his size, you're gripping and adjusting, depleting his ability to be gentle with you. In the adjustments you make, one sentence lurks in the misty halls of his mind as he only gives as much as you can take, a hand and grazed-thumb on your hip to ground you.
"What I'd do to stuff your hole full of me right now…"
Luckily, he doesn't have to do anything. Living up to your words, the inches continue to disappear, the sorest sight for his centuries-vision filled eyes, shoulders coming down in relief with a mouth ajar. Your hand's over the lower half of your stomach, not exposed by your shirt, but Sunghoon knows.
You feel him there.
"Remind me," he huffs, stalling for your adjustment, the stretch as delicious as it is a dance around torture. "You take what like a champ?"
Sunghoon gets a kick out of it, this you already know. Somehow, it still makes your jaw tick, the weight cramped in you, making friends with your lower stomach is colossal, enough for an eye twitch and a sharp head turn in his direction.
"Your cock," every word spoken has a letter with a centre part, the disapproving head shake you do continued as your hips shift, leaking tip grinding up into the spongy spot you keen at. "Now move, before I fuck you."
Sunghoon's sorely mistaken. Painfully hard, yet he still continues ─ cat and mouse game too good to give up.
"All bark, no bite," he muses, eyes in false moon crescent, hips pulling back to offload the fill of your entrance. "Leave that to the real vampire, huh?"
Of course he'd leave you with that. Provide you some relief before he eases back into you again, grin shit-eating but eyes attentive, making sure this is pleasurable for you, to which it becomes. Accommodation is never easy, no matter how frequently you fuck, but he makes every grit of your teeth worth it. Falls into slow deep breaths you unknowingly follow and unwind with, moves his cock in and out at any pace you're comfortable with kisses you through it all, praises seared into the skin his lips meet.
A tempo builds, meek whimpers whispered into the hollow of his neck now barely contained moans. Your arms form a loose circle around his shoulders, the groans and whines he saves for your ears swirling a sickening pit of lust in your stomach.
"If only─hmph," you struggle, nails pressing into the fabric of his coat. "You put your mouth to better, fuck ─ use."
Past your ear, his laugh is bright. "You're bewitched,"
The smack of his pelvis against the back of your thighs teases your own teeth into his shoulder, whimpers releasing instead.
"Are my fangs all I'm good for?"
Turns out, you have your own timing. Comedic timing, it seems, because when you pry from him, mourning the loss of his cool skin, your eyes peer down between your legs. At the cock he uses with you as priority, a simmered sensation you unwind to, wetness drenching his length as the faint bulge of his tip makes itself known.
"You're good for other things too."
"Unbelievable," you hear your partner laugh, light and breathy because he's so fine-tuned to the human experience, large hands setting themselves up firm against your hips. "Now, if you will, let me do for what I'm good for."
Like you've always known him to be, he prides himself on his craft, making good of his word as he starts pistoning into you, the grind of his pelvis notching against your clit to make you squeal, his shoulders fastened to as the back of your thighs echo with your indecency. You're choking on moans, trying to keep noise to a minimal, but how can you when your vampire boyfriend knows you best? Knows what angle generates current in your body, what pace has you doubling over, holding him because the building pleasure is too immense for how contained your body feels? Knows when to flip the switch with you, the grounding presence you need or the kind that presses you into the ground.
"My perfect girl," he murmurs, a soothing hand cascading down the back of your head. "I'll never get over how good you feel."
He isn't the former for long, sheep's skin shed when your eyes start glossing over, legs hooked round his waist with your toes curled, tears of ecstasy saturating his coat's shoulder. How can he when you're basically offering yourself to him, enough distance created for your hands to support you from behind, neck craned for his taking.
"Is this what you're into?" he asks, the outline of his body unfair under layers of clothing as his cock stuffs you full. "Do you fantasize about being feed on because you feed off the pleasure and pain?"
You could consider his question, answer truthfully wherever it lies. However, you're a bit preoccupied. The one or two things he's good for working against you, reducing you to a worthless pile of mush, the same matter made of your brain, melted and spilling out your ears, hearing stifled.
"Answer me."
Your throat works, suddenly so dry with a swallow for saliva to quench some thirst, vision fuzzy as you fight off the impending doom.
Not now, not yet.
"Yes," you respond. "I'm into it because─"
He notches himself with a particular force, one you do a withered whimper at, pupils shaking as they blow over your iris' ring.
"Because it's with you," your hand's on his jaw, holding him firm as you add on. "I have a you fetish."
"Fuck," there's a hitch in Sunghoon's thrusts, a slight hiccup when he disintegrates at your words, head hung only to come back up with the brightest smile on his face. The one you could spend eternity looking at. "You're such a tease."
"A pretty, sloppy, needy─" emphasis in his stupidly seductive tone matches with the brute of his thrusts, concentrated and attuned to what'll make you break. "─tease."
Against your forehead, his own falls, a kiss shared as his low body temperature attempts to dial back yours, the coil in your stomach too hot for you to function.
"Good thing you're close because I am too," he nods, one last kiss before he asks. "Do I have the honours?"
It's one of the easiest yes' you'll utter.
"Always."
What you could compare the initial seconds of Sunghoon feeding from you to is a piercing. The clamminess of your palms, an escalated heart rate even if you'd mentally prepared for the moment and eyes incapable of focusing. To gain it back, your only function boils down to managing your breaths as anticipation itches beneath your skin.
Then, it happens.
A momentary flicker of pain, sharpened enamel piercing through skin and sinking, nestling where no vitals are endangered. It's minor, so minor it's forgotten the second after it's felt, the burst of euphoria incomprehensible. Words fail to explain the phenomenon, amounting to a standard you're on a constant chase for, bewitched as Sunghoon so lovingly puts it, him just the same ─ if not worse off ─ as he shamelessly moans at the taste, the vague waft of blood's metallic scent replaced with the blanket of his linen scent.
Blood and sex are so intertwined, mentioned previously by Sunghoon. And while he'd said this in response to you, the words ring truest for him, a broken moan vibrating into your skin as his hips start rutting, erratic as he surges towards his orgasm. His priority forever and always, he wedges his hand between your bodies, your clit played with to bring you to a similar pace, something like come coating your walls as you squeeze his cock one last time, a cry from your lips before you come undone.
Eventually, he relents, having had his fill with a pry he holds your body up for, still dazed from the aphrodisiac-like remedy in his venom to seal your skin together. When the world stops moving in separate circles, you catch sight of his fangs, coated in the rich crimson of your blood, only having the energy for a lazy smile before he sorts you two out. An eventual knock echoes at his door, Sunghoon spitting the last of Pearl Bite toothpaste out his mouth, fangs like brand new as you two feign normalcy.
Like he hadn't fed from you, or how his vampire-equivalent to come isn't leaking between your crossed thighs.
Just another day at Sunghoon's practice.
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boyfriend!enhypen hyung line x fem!reader
content(s): fluff, suggestive, (y/n) leaving her lipstick marks all over enha’s skin, members are lovesick cutie patooties
type: oneshot
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ synopsis: seeing her boyfriend wearing a plain white t-shirt inspires (y/n) to stain it with her lipstick like a trend she saw before—but with a boyfriend greedy for her love, he’d prefer her lips on his ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚
⋆˙𐙚 L.HEESEUNG 𐙚˙⋆ “…devour you alive”
(y/n) giggles as she pecks heeseung’s nose—stamping her lips on it and widening her smile at the sight. “you’re silly for getting jealous over a shirt, seungie. i couldn’t even finish up the heart pattern.”
he scoffs, feigning deep offense at her comment. “the shirt did nothing to deserve your kisses.”
she only shakes her head with an amused grin before shifting to go from kneeling on the couch and onto the floor to plant kisses on his shirt as he leans forward for her ease.
heeseung watches as she swipes a fresh layer of lipstick on—his chest heaving with impatience as his tongue wets his own lips—before her hands gently grip his waist. slowly, her mouth presses on the fabric covering his abdomen and gradually climbs to his chest.
kiss. pause. kiss. pause. kiss.
the man’s breaths are ragged and eyelids flutter the more she lays her lips on him, frustration growing. the feeling of his love’s soft, warm pecks being so close yet so far—barricaded by his accursed shirt—thins his patience.
muah! (y/n) exaggerates the sound when she finally completes the heart shape and she looks up at her boyfriend. “look! isn’t it ni—mmph!”
heeseung smashes his lips onto hers, hand cupped around her cheek as he uses his other to pull her up by the waist. a soft contented groan leaves him when he successfully sits her back onto his lap—centers colliding and he pulls away to let her catch her breath.
feeling lightheaded, (y/n) sees all colours and shapes blurring together with the exception of heeseung who looks devilishly charming—as he always is. with a smirk on his glossed, red-smeared lips and sharp, clouded eyes, his tongue darts forward to lick a stripe off her bottom lip—a groan of pleasure vibrating in his chest and up his throat at the sweet taste of their mixed essences and artificial strawberry.
“put me through that torture again and i’ll devour you alive,” he breathes out heavily and at the meek nod from his dazed lover, his being throbs with desire—once again meeting her lips with fervid passion.
⋆˙𐙚 P.JONGSEONG 𐙚˙⋆ “take responsibility”
“you kill me with this, darling…” jay grunts lowly as (y/n) presses the last mark onto his plain shirt—intentionally letting her lips linger just above the waistband of his sweatpants.
“and…done!” she cheers and stands to leave while ignoring her boyfriend’s intent stare that follows her every move. of course, she knows what he’s after. she did all this with a motive.
she’s halted from walking away by slender fingers wrapping around her wrist, calloused skin grazing against hers in a way that makes her shudder.
“where do you think you’re going?” jay asks and she restrains the smirk that threatens to form when she turns.
“what do you mean?” raising her brows, she asks. a false face of obliviousness worn as she looks at her heavily breathing boyfriend.
his lips pull to a grin as brows knit, a face of amusement mixed with incredulity. “you started it. take responsibility.”
and before she can retort, she’s pulled into him and a squeak erupts when she harshly lands onto his lap—eyes widening at the stiffness felt through his sweatpants. but she’s not given the time to comment as the other swiftly presses his lips onto the side of her neck—peppering her skin with kisses that elicits a pleasured sigh.
“you’re such a tease,” he chuckles darkly and his hot breath fans her nape, making her shiver and hands fly to cup his face, taking him aback. “what are you doing?”
“you told me to take responsibility,” (y/n) reminds and kisses both of his cheeks—leaving deep red lip marks on his cheekbones that mimic a cartoonish blush. she titters when his eyes widen as they shift between hers nervously—or is it excitement? “i’m going to do exactly that.”
and he’s immediately pinned onto the backrest of the couch, groaning and trembling with gratification as his lover stains his skin with rosy paint.
⋆˙𐙚 S.JAEYUN 𐙚˙⋆ “…a perfect canvas waiting for you”
(y/n) grins contentedly as she looks down at her most magnificent masterpiece yet—a dazed, lovesick sim jaeyun with tousled hair and lipstick stains all over his face with the darkest marks on his mouth. “my baby’s so pretty~”
her compliment evokes a faint mewl from the man who proceeds to rest his chin onto her chest as he gazes up at her with hearts dancing in his eyes.
a loopy grin forms on his face as he bats his eyes prettily at her. “i feel pretty…even more if you kiss me again.”
his comment makes her snort before she pinches his nose.
“yeah, right. i finished designing your shirt and it’s gonna be hard for you to clean all those marks off if i add more so—”
“but i don’t have any here!” jake suddenly exclaims when she spins around to leave. her jaw falls when she turns back to see him pulling down his shirt to show his bare chest. “don’t you want to make another masterpiece? i have a perfect canvas waiting for you…”
mouth still gaping, (y/n) brings her gaze up to meet his and the façade of naïvety he puts on makes her scoff. he knows how weak she is when he puts on those puppy eyes. “oh, sim jaeyun… you sly little thing.”
he grins victoriously when she faces her body to him completely and his arms spread wide open to welcome her—leaning his head back and exhaling with bliss as he feels her lips trailing down from his neck.
⋆˙𐙚 P.SUNGHOON 𐙚˙⋆ “kiss me”
sunghoon’s fingers are clenching on the sheets of the bed as he watches his girlfriend draw a heart onto his plain white shirt. his upper back against the headboard to get a clear view which he belatedly realizes is not the best idea because now he’s desperate to just pull her face away to focus only on him.
but no, he can’t. she was so excited when bringing up the idea, he can’t interrupt her now.
so instead, he gently combs her hair away from her face before manually holding it all up in a ponytail so he can finally see his beautiful girlfriend.
another not-the-very-best idea.
because now he can see her every move—how her eyes close and lashes flutter, how she rolls her lips together before puckering them to stamp on the plain fabric and how her eyes twinkle with delight once she sees the pattern she made.
she’s breathtaking. and he might actually die of suffocation if he doesn’t get a kiss soon.
“kiss me,” he says immediately after she completes the heart shape. she whips her head to him with brows raised and eyes rounded at the sudden ask. he repeats. “kiss me.”
well, not that she minds.
hovering him, she then bends down to place a chaste kiss on his lips and is just about to retract before he coils his arms around her back and pulls her down—chest against chest, hip against hip and mouths intertwined as sunghoon deepens the connection.
“sunghoon!” she gasps and her surprise provides him entrance—tongue slipping through and a soft moan emits at the taste of her.
(y/n)‘s own eyes shut, mirroring her boyfriend’s as they both melt seamlessly into each other’s embrace and his hands slowly begin to sneak underneath her shirt to roam up her back.
when they pull away, the two are panting heavily as they gaze into each other’s eyes with a heavy tension. sunghoon still holding her tight against him, a smug grin emerges at the sight of his disoriented, flushed girlfriend as a chuckle leaves and he nudges his nose against hers.
“you’re so cute… i think i need to buy more white shirts.”
ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙
𝜗𝜚 hi, it’s romi here!! thank you so much for reading to the end!! if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
𓏵‧₊˚ ┊roommates!enhypen ot7 x female reader જ⁀➴ 𐔌՞text՞𐦯 .ᐟ 「she got her period, and suddenly she has herself seven butlers waiting on their hands and knee」 part ˢᵉᵛᵉⁿ, ⁿⁱⁿᵉ
ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ smau masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙
𝜗𝜚 thank you to the anon who made this lovely request!! it was fun to make X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
⋮ ⌗ ┆概要⨾ pearl bite restores the smiles of vampires and humans alike, folks travelling nationwide to attain results from the man and myth himself, park sunghoon. running a successful dental practice isn't easy, long hours invested and feeding schedules sidelined. luckily for him, you've never been one to forget.
朴成训 𝔁 𝒻 .ᐟ读者 ── 5.6k
explicit content ⋆ smut (mdni)、heavy mentions of blood & biting/feeding (sunghoon feeds from the reader during sex)、condescending dom!sunghoon、sub!reader、established relationship、hints of brat & brat tamer dynamics、degradation/humiliation、vaginal fingering、handjob、semi public sex、exhibitionism、breath play、unprotected sex (don't do this)、creampie、hints of pain kink、hung!hoon、size & bulge kink、slight praise & crying、reference to marking/beard burn、an attempt at some fluff and angst..petnames used: perfect/sweet girl、princess.⌇ℳ.list
⋮ ⌗ ┆便条⨾ so...how about them vampire brand drops? 😁 the teasers released so far feel really fun but are so polished and align so well wih enha's vampire concept! their creative team always has my heart. they definitely have my heart for this concept alone, which...i wrote because my other wips were mocking me 😭 perhaps imposter syndrome will give me a break the next time i visit them, but for now, enjoy this corner of my brain :3 haven't written about vampires before, so a lot of creative freedom is taken here! let your imagination run free and as always, much loveeee! <333
Downtown is abuzz, springtime bringing out lifeforms in their fullest, humans on a leisurely stroll and vampires in their element, nightfall cast to upheave the sluggishness of day, canines bared and timeless beauty arresting. On the way to your destination, a concrete jungle of scaffolding and pets on leashes, you stop at an intersection. Cars zoom, traffic lights ticking down until they turn green again. The road, a blur of cars would usually have your attention, if not for the huge billboard plastered above the pizzeria and jazz bar just ahead.
Pearl Bite: A bloodless white, a perfect smile.
Your own faux canines show, tongue run beneath their point as your eyes dazzle at the advert. Specifically, the creator and model for Pearl Bite ─ your one and only boyfriend.
College sweethearts, Sunghoon describes your romance as a sneaky attack on your behalf, nothing but his passion on his mind, only to be derailed. The brilliance of your smile, the heartiness of your laugh, your endless glow he couldn't shy away from. The next century is meant to build upon his newly-found interest in dentistry, open his own practice with amassed generational wealth and give back to his community. His initial plan only accounts for vampires, at the mercy of many cycled conversations of blood-stained fangs and how there's no vampire-equivalent for teeth-whitening. Then he meets you, unknowingly opens himself up more to the human experience, recognizes how they can differ vastly from his own, yet share so many similarities.
You're the most selfless person he knows, a long-line of people served before you're last in line. Amongst the juggle of others' needs and aspirations, yours kind of included somewhere, he learns you're a product of everything you've ever loved and suffered from too. In the months passing too quick for his liking - still toeing the line of friendship(ish) - you bare yourself to him in the late night diner you work at.
The one he walks you home from, drinks the shitty coffee because you've brewed it. The things vampires do for love.
In a dim corner booth, your chin perches on your folded arms, fingers drumming against a table you're yet to clean and are honestly too tired to at this point. It's been non-stop shifts packed into a never-ending semester, and whilst your job's meant to supplement your means of living, it also serves another purpose.
"I owe my mom everything," you start, the bat of your lashes turning Sunghoon into a statue, knowing what's to come yet unsure. Uncertain how to proceed. "No matter how little we had to our name, she always made sure I was taken care of. That if one of us was happy, it was always me,"
Your nose twitches, eyes glossy with a sigh coming from trembling lips. A vague crack sounds in his chest.
He wishes his hand had the kind of warmth you'd lean into.
"Losing her best friend, and in a way, losing me ─ has brought her to her knees," your fingers drum, pupils shaking as you will your tears to only exist before your waterline. "I'm doing as much as I can, but there's only so much to do from across the country. I can't check in on her and the house between lectures, I can't pay for anything medical other than some lousy insurance, I can't transfer that weight to myself,"
"Because at least then, it wouldn't be her burden to bear."
The welled emotions in your chest demand you to straighten, more space for lungs to expand and when stray tears fall, you can only exhale, elbows propped to the table to wipe them away. Your hand falls to the surface in perfect timing, searing skin meeting a cool, steady palm. You're just as still as him, the thump of your heart felt in Sunghoon's fingertips, all the way through to his ears ringing with its race. Only empathy occupies him, remnants of a life before immortality tethering you two together by more than held hands, the quiet compassion he delivers sticking with you forever.
Time has since passed, that corner booth a bittersweet memory. In spite of long-carried pain, you and your mom see brighter days ─ graduation, your first adult job, the return of her smile. Depression has a way of mystifying the future ahead of you, the present clouded in miserable, inescapable grey clouds. To push on takes all the more effort, so things start to give ─ sleep, appetite and the wither of everything else. While she's managed to pick herself up by the aid of you and others, your mom still holds a keepsake she'd rather do without. A dimmed smile you're doing your best to help restore. But in a household where annual doctor's trips are rare, the luxury doesn't come easy. And by the time you're examining what other expenses to cut back on, Sunghoon pitches his latest project.
Pearl Bite, for humans and vampires alike.
Endless trials, modifications, moulds that have bitten the dust and brave participants that bring his dream into fruition. Only now, his dream accounts for not only you, but your mother. Additional modules and clinicals to fit in the study of human teeth, revitalizing the last part of a past your mother is moving forward from. And when everything's said and done, your mother instinctively cowers from the mirror before she weeps, holding onto Sunghoon with a life force as gratitude soaks into his white coat. In the corner, his eyes find you, the water-lined tears in your eyes like then, now reflecting the kind of appreciation and love he knows is priceless.
Pearl Bite takes off, his humble practice fighting to accommodate for the onslaught of patients he tries helping. People come from far and wide, all with a story that picks at their nails and prompts reluctance when it comes time for Sunghoon's inspection. Overbites, plaque, shaven-down fangs, blood stains ─ the list goes on. However, their reluctance is all but forgotten once he commits himself to their well-being, a sigh of relief filling his mask before he hands over what feels like a magic mirror, sorrow turning into happiness. One practice isn't enough, not for endless clients, or aspiring dentists with the same aspirations. Multiple dot themselves across the country, his time split between sights he flies to (your stomach still drops whenever both your feet leave the ground). He has a line of products, an alternative solution for those he cannot meet and to no surprise, it takes off. You climb your own career ladder, finding something just as meaningful and building your life together with the man who saved yours and your mother's smile.
His practice bustles as it always does, a mixture of clients flipping through magazines or sharing stories in the waiting room. To his assistance, you wave, your presence always welcome when your schedules align. In the hall leading to his office, your head nods at more waiting patients, smile brimmed in manner with a glance at the clock.
It's feeding time.
A flutter in your chest disturbs the peace you've maintained for the day's majority, current sparked as your palm meets the door handle of his office, shallowly pulled to the side only to let yourself in. No one occupies the dental unit, spotlight tucked away with the space sterilised and clean, its sleek hues of white, grey and muted baby blue burrowing comfort in your chest. Attempts to slow the rabbit Sunghoon hears, a heartbeat so attuned to he forgoes his inventory count and goes to filter back into the main room, surprise alight in his eyes as he's urged back.
"I didn't know you were coming," his voice carries the sentiment, the half-hearted draw of his inventory's door schemed behind you.
Innocence brims in your smile nonetheless, arms strung around him as his hands fall to your waist, steady and firm.
"You forgot your dinner."
"Dinner?" a lone eyebrow raises, the slope of his nose in full view as his head turns to the mini fridge metres away. "I should have enough blood bags for─"
Your nails rake through his nape hairs once and for all, stepping back before you haul yourself on the counter space he'd been working so diligently on, showcasing the dinner he's seemingly left behind.
You.
No one would bat an eyelash at the length of your skirt, a conservative length if not for an extra long stride ─ the cross of your legs ─ where skin reveals itself, blemishing with incessant teeth marks, beard burn and a mouth pulling into a disbelieving smile as you reveal yourself to him, making sure to crane your neck enough to hint at the location of his last feed.
"So," mischief lives in the lines of your smirk, your own canines peeking through in an ask. "Will you finish what you started?"
With centuries spent living amongst vampires and humans, you'd think Sunghoon would have some know-how. Predict the patterns humans have made of themselves, ingrained in wired DNA passed down from generation to generation. Yet, you always seem to surprise him. Bring the disbelieving and amused laughter out his huffing chest, his proximity drawn closer as his hands staple on either side of your thighs, skirt material bunched in your lap, goosebump-riddled from the arctic temperature of his office.
His eyes burn with a dial of lust, iris colouring into a wine hue before his pupils swallows the field whole, gaze flickered between your eyes and lips.
"This is risky," he notes, nosing along your jaw. The instinct to give your neck away wears him down more than you'll know. "Anyone could come in and see us. Hear us,"
He deserts the raised skin trail he's created from slight grazes alone, satisfaction on his lips as he creates space to marvel at the mess you're boiling down to.
"But that's what gets you off, right?" his fangs show, his grin too amused and cocky to shield them, his head tilted to only emphasis his point. "Just can't keep your pretty moans to yourself."
Air fills your lungs through a nasal inhale, chest slumping with a gulp audible to your own ears. You'd waltzed in here first, you can't lose control just yet.
You bring yourself closer to the counter's edge, skirt riding up further to expose hints of lace, knowing it'll do nothing but torment him. Taunt him as his canine and lower teeth toy with an inner piece of his check, restraint tested.
"Come on, you haven't fed in days," he's standing straighter, hands off the counter. He's close enough though, the perfect distance for your leg to hook at his lower back and draw him in, your hand waiting before his length eventually throbs in your palm, your grin a work of sin as you peer up at him with dark magic eyes. "I know you're hungry."
Control is commanded, and to some extent, Sunghoon submits. Lets you carry out your charade, allows the concept of power to exist in your frame of mind. However, deep down, you both know. Undeterred, Sunghoon lets you palm his growing erection, smirking like it doesn't turn him on. Like he doesn't give your hand one grind, starved for friction.
His hand raises to outline the shell of your ear with his fingertip, pleased with the shiver erupting down your spine.
"Funny how blood and sex are so intertwined," he leads, voice husky as his eyes fall to yours again, standing their ground. "For you, especially."
It's meant to be a call out. In some measure, you suffer from its consequences, prickly skin and heated cheeks. However, you've been with Sunghoon long enough to quit playing shy. You plan to spend eternity with him too, it's only natural you reward him with your honesty.
"It's another layer of intimacy," the sweetness of your words juxtapose your actions, palm firm against his shaft as your thumb glides over his tip in sweet, torturous motions, smile stretching at the waver of his breath. You cock your head, a call for attention. "Wouldn't you agree?"
He's close like this now, shuffled to you in a tighter circle of your hooked legs, the column of his throat licked. The grain of stubble against your tongue hums your pleasure into his skin, his own mirrored sound coming when your teeth nibble on the teased skin.
"Hmph," he groans, losing focus. Losing to you. "I do, but my mind can't help but wonder,"
Further words peaks your interest, Sunghoon's hand settling across your neck, face further away as he handles you for his viewing pleasure. His other set of knuckles push his glasses up his nose bridge, chin lifted as he looks at you through low eyes, the quiet but hard thump of your pulse meeting the pad of his thumb.
"If it's the euphoric high you're starved for," Sunghoon's thumb moves over the tender skin, thump gaining traction as you attempt withstanding his complete read of you. "Or maybe it's the slight pain,"
Through the time you've known Sunghoon, you've only ever known him to be humble. No matter what feat he reaches, trait or skill he posses and displays, he'll pretend as if it's not his own. Won't gloat, won't brag ─ except for times like these.
When he's got you right where he wants, his fangs pinpoint on your skin between the fan of his thumb, your heartbeat the equivalent of being chased.
You hear his smirk first before you see it, space created again as his eyes cannot be without your sight for too long.
"Which one is it?"
The hand that'd been palming him arrests the counter's edge, knuckles burning white in an act of self-restraint. Control you're being frayed to abandon, a harsh run of your tongue on the back of your teeth as your other leg hooks behind him, nowhere to hide as your hip roll to meet his, a grind you see chipping away at him.
Pressure adds to the grasp on your neck ─ a test to you too.
"Wouldn't you like to know."
Again, that almost incredulous yet amused chuckle meets your ears, this time more mocking as Sunghoon's tongue pokes his inner cheek, his eyes bleeding over with an intensity you've only been anticipating.
"I'll find out either way," one corner of his lip lifts, small but all-knowing. "Spread your legs."
The last thing you'll do is indulge him, even if your body aches for him in the worst way ─ bone deep, lust sinking in your body like an anchor. You're already pressed against him, the friction of few layers a blessing in disguise for someone as insatiable as you are. This, you can do with. The same can't be said for Sunghoon, who in the questioning look he gives you, your smile extends ─ a slice of heaven and a lot of hell.
"What's with the attitude?" he chuckles, one last squeeze against the sides of your neck to make you squeak. The departures paves the way for his impatience, enough strength to pry your crossed ankles apart. "Didn't you want this all along? Treated the way you are in my office because you couldn't wait?"
You can't compete against an immortal, his strength bending your body to his will, thighs braced against the arctic counter top. Spread to his liking.
"Ah, that's why," it's the second time in such little time you've heard him smirk, a more evil moon crescent shape to his eyes as he marvels between your legs. Specifically, the wetness that's soaked through the flimsy fabric. "It's okay, I want you just as much."
A gentle kiss is pressed to your forehead, because your ego has its' moments, bruising like a peach. You could huff, turn away from the supposed affection he gives you, but he's quicker. A peck to the tip of your nose and happiness in the light chuckle he does afterwards.
Then, when you're looking at him again, albeit reluctantly, he smiles regardless. Cups your cheeks, holding you as if porcelain and kisses you. Soft and pillowy, lingering to savour the simple press of flesh, a slow and sweet swirl back into desire. Melting in his cold grasp, you move in patterns known to each other, the audacity to start pulling away breathing a snicker between your lips, his smile against your lips after he's chased them, your own introduced moments later.
He picks you apart in the most delicate way, undoing you with adoring kisses and assured hands, consuming you with every breath he steals, hands of desperation hinging themselves against his arms. Sunghoon kisses you as if it's your last, with deeper meaning coming from the lifetimes he's lived, your bottom lip between his teeth as he tugs gently.
A move applicable to everyone. Doing its worst to you.
While other teeth tease, his fangs threaten, a harsher skim against the flesh your breath hitches at, a swipe of his tongue meant to soothe, only to fuel the fire burning in you.
While his hands no longer cradle your face, he kisses you without fault. Pouring affection into the tender overlap of lips, the only thing you manage to do is lift your hips as his hands tug your panties down your legs, tucked away in his back pocket as a souvenir. If you weren't so dazed, you'd make fun of him, like when you'd felt his cock kick when you'd started kissing, the venture of your tongue making him sigh a stuttered breath.
Smacked lips and laboured breaths no longer only occupy the office/closet space, abundance of slick lapped up on the span of two fingers, the most piled on Sunghoon's fingertips as they tease your entrance, thumb doing slow circles against your clit.
Fingers carding through his hair, your breath stutters in his mouth. Whines and huffed whimpers bleed into his kiss-stained lips as his fingers push in with no resistance, welcomed as your walls conform to their shape. He stretches you with the scissors of his fingers, the stretch simmering with a touch of discomfort, grinding down to blooming pleasure as you yield, his fingers 'curl pushed into the spot making you see stars.
"Think I'll give your thighs a break," Sunghoon whispers, your tongue dipped into the curve of his lips. "All those hickeys and beard burn can't be good for you ─ too much friction,"
"N-not enough," you wail, running feverishly hot and without any care, bucking your hips helplessly. "Want ─ more."
"I've made you such a greedy thing, haven't I?" he murmurs, humming at all the sounds you reward him with ─ vulnerable moans, sloppy kisses you try giving but it's no use. You're gone, in too deep to realise the moment you'd walked into his office, your fate had been sealed.
Other points deserve attention, is Sunghoon's thought process as he leaves your lips with one last slow kiss, saliva strung between your quivering lips before he peppers his way down your chin, up the curve of your jaw and stops right below your earlobe. You know where he'll go next and it sends a buzz through your every cell, makes you tremble and shake. And before your brain can catch up to the signs, Sunghoon knows too.
Hears the chaos of your heart, the disarray of your pulse and plays along.
"Haven't even got to your neck and you're leaking all over my fingers," he muses, a peck smacked onto the dipped skin before his teeth catch onto the fleshy part, a fang punctured close to where your lone piercing is. An automatic response is relayed by your body. "Squeezing my fingers for all their worth, huh?"
Lolled to the side, a partial part in purpose but the other because your head's swarmed in haziness, twice its weight from Sunghoon consuming you, his non-beating heart having the decency to not prolong your long-awaited ask. He descends, inches but makes his way with the tread of his teeth down your neck column.
"What happened to that little attitude of yours, sweet girl?" he asks, the squelch and twitch of your body unearthing a rarity in condescending nature. "Did I fingerfuck it out of you, hm? You wanna be my good girl now?"
You nod hard enough to feel the jumble of your brain, cut up into pieces and free-floating in your zero-gravity headspace.
"You know nods won't do," he's there. The exact spot he feeds from, and it's maddening. The release of adrenaline, the rabbit chase your heart does, nails scraping into marble.
He noses along the mark, a momentary pause noting how gone he is for you too, intoxicated at the mere scent of your blood before everything crumbles, his willpower the only thing standing as he pries away, looking you in your eyes as he says,
"Let me hear you say it, princess."
"I'll─I'll be good," the words slosh in your mouth, lips pressed to muffle your desperate squeaks. "I just─just let me come please?"
"I'm no animal," dark laughter licks up your spine, stuck in its slouch as Sunghoon's rhythm picks up, fingertips knocking deepest in you, your jaw pried open in silent surprise. "I couldn't deprive you if I tried."
"Come on, sweet girl," he comes closer, fresh linen scent engulfing you as a kiss lays upon your temple. "The quicker you let go, the faster you get my cock."
The quicker he'll feed.
The mere thought is almost like magic, contracting your walls in an impossible squeeze as the coil in your stomach sizzles at the tips of your toes, shooting up to burst through every avenue ─ every pore ─ of your body. Detonating right in the palm of his hand, he kisses your wails away until they subside, fingers working you until you're twitchy and overly sensitive, glossy eyed yet itching to unbutton his slacks.
"Impatience will get you hurt," is his later comment, letting you mess with the buckle of his belt, metallic clashes resonating through the room. Dripping more slick onto his office counter. "So rushed when you'll struggle taking me."
The last notch of his zipper sounds louder than the rest, your head snapped in his direction. "Now, that you can't mock me for,"
Your eyes drop down to the heavy bulge imprinting through his briefs and slacks, hoping his eyes follow along.
"I take your literal monster cock like a champ, thank you."
"Give or take."
You kiss your teeth, knowing better but still cursing at him in your head.
"Whatever," your eyes roll, pushing enough of his waistband down to get your hand around his cock. Barely, but it's not of the essence. What is is the need his tip heats with, generous precome beaded in his slit your thumbs runs over. A hiss releases in spite of his efforts, met with the cockiness of your grin. "You're the one who needs me here,"
"Blood bags only taste so good," you drawl, pulling him out to get a better handle of his length. Head ducked to dribble spit on his skin as makeshift lube, enveloped by your palm in a mixture with precome as your hand comes up and twists up his veined shaft. Now it's his turn for braced hands on the counter's edge, his grip strong enough to snap the marble in two. The thought ignites lightning in your stomach.
Your mouth gets the chance for payback ─ hovering over the shell of his pointed one, a lapsed breath released in the anticipation of your words. The slow, tight jerk of your hand. "And none can get you off, so…"
A huff of defeat ─ still humoured ─ sounds past your shoulder, Sunghoon's back muscles flexing through the white coat ruffling as he pushes off the table, hair slicked back back as his fingers run through dark strands, his pale features accented with a pretty rosy tint.
Lips swollen with kisses. Skin glittering in the low light.
"You're annoying," his hands swats away yours, his focal point you as your figure reflects in the honey sweet hue of his eyes. "I love you."
"Love you t─ah!"
Sunghoon had knocked your knees further apart, lined himself with your entrance and now, starts to slide his length in. Ever since your last orgasm, you'd hinged on his counter for the moment his cock would stretch you out, but even if your eyes blindly followed his shifts, you'd got lost in his confession. The sheer honesty and sincerity brimming in his eyes as he said so, his last words to you before you reconnect again as one.
A frantic hand jumps to secure yourself on one plane of his shoulder, a sharp inhale sucking in all frigid air of his office into your shaken lungs, the bitten back moan he lets slip flooding the glide of his length, inches sparingly used. Yet the thought of being split open remains alive and well.
"You're good, you can take it."
It's one of his sentences that doesn't reek of condescension, the kind of sugary encouragement you can't help but want to do your best for, relying on your practiced methods of breathing and trying to relax. Except to accommodate to his size, you're gripping and adjusting, depleting his ability to be gentle with you. In the adjustments you make, one sentence lurks in the misty halls of his mind as he only gives as much as you can take, a hand and grazed-thumb on your hip to ground you.
"What I'd do to stuff your hole full of me right now…"
Luckily, he doesn't have to do anything. Living up to your words, the inches continue to disappear, the sorest sight for his centuries-vision filled eyes, shoulders coming down in relief with a mouth ajar. Your hand's over the lower half of your stomach, not exposed by your shirt, but Sunghoon knows.
You feel him there.
"Remind me," he huffs, stalling for your adjustment, the stretch as delicious as it is a dance around torture. "You take what like a champ?"
Sunghoon gets a kick out of it, this you already know. Somehow, it still makes your jaw tick, the weight cramped in you, making friends with your lower stomach is colossal, enough for an eye twitch and a sharp head turn in his direction.
"Your cock," every word spoken has a letter with a centre part, the disapproving head shake you do continued as your hips shift, leaking tip grinding up into the spongy spot you keen at. "Now move, before I fuck you."
Sunghoon's sorely mistaken. Painfully hard, yet he still continues ─ cat and mouse game too good to give up.
"All bark, no bite," he muses, eyes in false moon crescent, hips pulling back to offload the fill of your entrance. "Leave that to the real vampire, huh?"
Of course he'd leave you with that. Provide you some relief before he eases back into you again, grin shit-eating but eyes attentive, making sure this is pleasurable for you, to which it becomes. Accommodation is never easy, no matter how frequently you fuck, but he makes every grit of your teeth worth it. Falls into slow deep breaths you unknowingly follow and unwind with, moves his cock in and out at any pace you're comfortable with kisses you through it all, praises seared into the skin his lips meet.
A tempo builds, meek whimpers whispered into the hollow of his neck now barely contained moans. Your arms form a loose circle around his shoulders, the groans and whines he saves for your ears swirling a sickening pit of lust in your stomach.
"If only─hmph," you struggle, nails pressing into the fabric of his coat. "You put your mouth to better, fuck ─ use."
Past your ear, his laugh is bright. "You're bewitched,"
The smack of his pelvis against the back of your thighs teases your own teeth into his shoulder, whimpers releasing instead.
"Are my fangs all I'm good for?"
Turns out, you have your own timing. Comedic timing, it seems, because when you pry from him, mourning the loss of his cool skin, your eyes peer down between your legs. At the cock he uses with you as priority, a simmered sensation you unwind to, wetness drenching his length as the faint bulge of his tip makes itself known.
"You're good for other things too."
"Unbelievable," you hear your partner laugh, light and breathy because he's so fine-tuned to the human experience, large hands setting themselves up firm against your hips. "Now, if you will, let me do for what I'm good for."
Like you've always known him to be, he prides himself on his craft, making good of his word as he starts pistoning into you, the grind of his pelvis notching against your clit to make you squeal, his shoulders fastened to as the back of your thighs echo with your indecency. You're choking on moans, trying to keep noise to a minimal, but how can you when your vampire boyfriend knows you best? Knows what angle generates current in your body, what pace has you doubling over, holding him because the building pleasure is too immense for how contained your body feels? Knows when to flip the switch with you, the grounding presence you need or the kind that presses you into the ground.
"My perfect girl," he murmurs, a soothing hand cascading down the back of your head. "I'll never get over how good you feel."
He isn't the former for long, sheep's skin shed when your eyes start glossing over, legs hooked round his waist with your toes curled, tears of ecstasy saturating his coat's shoulder. How can he when you're basically offering yourself to him, enough distance created for your hands to support you from behind, neck craned for his taking.
"Is this what you're into?" he asks, the outline of his body unfair under layers of clothing as his cock stuffs you full. "Do you fantasize about being feed on because you feed off the pleasure and pain?"
You could consider his question, answer truthfully wherever it lies. However, you're a bit preoccupied. The one or two things he's good for working against you, reducing you to a worthless pile of mush, the same matter made of your brain, melted and spilling out your ears, hearing stifled.
"Answer me."
Your throat works, suddenly so dry with a swallow for saliva to quench some thirst, vision fuzzy as you fight off the impending doom.
Not now, not yet.
"Yes," you respond. "I'm into it because─"
He notches himself with a particular force, one you do a withered whimper at, pupils shaking as they blow over your iris' ring.
"Because it's with you," your hand's on his jaw, holding him firm as you add on. "I have a you fetish."
"Fuck," there's a hitch in Sunghoon's thrusts, a slight hiccup when he disintegrates at your words, head hung only to come back up with the brightest smile on his face. The one you could spend eternity looking at. "You're such a tease."
"A pretty, sloppy, needy─" emphasis in his stupidly seductive tone matches with the brute of his thrusts, concentrated and attuned to what'll make you break. "─tease."
Against your forehead, his own falls, a kiss shared as his low body temperature attempts to dial back yours, the coil in your stomach too hot for you to function.
"Good thing you're close because I am too," he nods, one last kiss before he asks. "Do I have the honours?"
It's one of the easiest yes' you'll utter.
"Always."
What you could compare the initial seconds of Sunghoon feeding from you to is a piercing. The clamminess of your palms, an escalated heart rate even if you'd mentally prepared for the moment and eyes incapable of focusing. To gain it back, your only function boils down to managing your breaths as anticipation itches beneath your skin.
Then, it happens.
A momentary flicker of pain, sharpened enamel piercing through skin and sinking, nestling where no vitals are endangered. It's minor, so minor it's forgotten the second after it's felt, the burst of euphoria incomprehensible. Words fail to explain the phenomenon, amounting to a standard you're on a constant chase for, bewitched as Sunghoon so lovingly puts it, him just the same ─ if not worse off ─ as he shamelessly moans at the taste, the vague waft of blood's metallic scent replaced with the blanket of his linen scent.
Blood and sex are so intertwined, mentioned previously by Sunghoon. And while he'd said this in response to you, the words ring truest for him, a broken moan vibrating into your skin as his hips start rutting, erratic as he surges towards his orgasm. His priority forever and always, he wedges his hand between your bodies, your clit played with to bring you to a similar pace, something like come coating your walls as you squeeze his cock one last time, a cry from your lips before you come undone.
Eventually, he relents, having had his fill with a pry he holds your body up for, still dazed from the aphrodisiac-like remedy in his venom to seal your skin together. When the world stops moving in separate circles, you catch sight of his fangs, coated in the rich crimson of your blood, only having the energy for a lazy smile before he sorts you two out. An eventual knock echoes at his door, Sunghoon spitting the last of Pearl Bite toothpaste out his mouth, fangs like brand new as you two feign normalcy.
Like he hadn't fed from you, or how his vampire-equivalent to come isn't leaking between your crossed thighs.
Just another day at Sunghoon's practice.
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Warnings: minor character death, mention of injuries and blood. Child neglect, alot of miscommunication. Inaccurate depiction of mute people and sign language.
Synopsis : betrothed to a prince she's never met, a princess visits his kingdom.the two not communicating to know one another, she presumes him out to be rude and unfeeling.but how is one to tell her he is mute?.
Word count : 10,300? Ish.
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Pitter-patter, ragged breaths,and agonising wails filled the usually quiet, enormous royal chambers that now felt stifling."You have to keep at it your highness! Your baby is in as much pain as you are currently" the stoic voice of the royal physician made every individual in the room shudder in worry and despair.
"Why is it so hard, I feel like.. GOD i- i am being ripped apart" whimpered out the woman, thats all she was within moment, she was another woman being talked down on while her life hung by a thread, along with the very flesh and bones of her unborn child that seemed to be having difficulty emerging out into the muggy world that already had more beings than it could house.
"You have to push the baby yourself or it will be more torturous for me to use my surgical tools!" Seethed the man who had been around for the birth of the current king, his sibiling along with the queens first born the crown prince, "please, GOD where is my husband! I can't" she wailed and felt her spirit dwindling just at the thought of being cut open like some cow.
"His highness can not be here, we have talked about this!, focus on the royal baby" piped the old man impatiently "I heard you!" Bellowed the frantic husband who barged in despite the yells of the improperiety of his actions, he was just a man wanting to be with his beloved who needed him during a time of pain she couldn't make go away on her own.
"I am here my love" he rasped, taking her hand in his he kissed her knuckles encouragingly "my wife is the strongest women this kingdom has seen, there will be no mention of surgery! Do all means nessasary to make sure both mother and child are okay, or so help me god, you or anyone in your lineage will not practice medicine ever again!" declared the king, voice booming,everyone within the vicinity quivering in fear.
And just in that instance, she pushed with all her might and the smaller life came out in the world, covered in fluid from his mother's womb that housed him like a sanctuary but for the past hour was a shrunken prison as the umbilical cord had been wrapped around his tiny neck.
The room fell into silence aside from the pained breaths of the queen, there were no shrill cries of an infant, the joy on the king and queen's faces was short lived, growing worried they looked at eachother and then at the old man holding their son "what is it, Why is my son not wailing like how his brother did?" Inquired the king, his worries now projected onto the newborn.
"The cord seemed to be attached around his neck, it is rather rare that it happens but it did" the physician held the baby up and gave it a firm smack on it's tush, everyone held their breaths anticipation suffocating even the proud king, the infant opened its mouth as to wail and cry from being smacked but nothing came out but wet gurgled sounds that didn't ease the atmosphere one bit.
"What is it, what's wrong with my son?" Cried out the mother "it appears that your son has been born mute, and no clear indicator of what might have caused this" the midwife slowly took the shaking newborn to clean him up while the king fell to his knees by his wife's bedside.
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"Do you want anything from my excursion?" Whispered the 13 year old crouching to look at his 6 year old brother, the timid younger only held onto his brother's sleeve and shook his head, taking his hand he signed "don't go" .
The older only hugged him in comfort "i will bring you those candies you like okay, and i will make sure you finally get your own horse, i will convince father this time" he perked up slightly at the mention of a horse, his smaller eyes twinkling under the grand chandalier, his smaller hand reached infront of the older, his pinkie showcasing the need for promise.
"I promise" they interlinked their pinkies, after all his big brother never broke a promise, eager he waited for his older brother to come back, in the meantime, he decided to try and up-ease his dear mother, one who hardly spared him a glance, for acknowledging him meant accepting what he was.
A disappointment, a paradox of flaws, more than some signifying her incompetence at creating a whole human, her son's lack of voice meant she could only ever hear one person address her as mother, and as cruel as it was of her, she couldn't be the sacrificing mother of a child that required more attention than her previous one.
And oh he was aware, how he ached for her arms, the king on the other hand paid attention, but not to him. To his studies, it was made sure of, that he received the same royal treatment from his tutors and governess, he was well taken care of but once again he fell short due to his inability to voice his thoughts like a prince should.
On the other side, crown prince junghoon stood next to his father, the king was faced with another,standing on the grounds of their allied kingdom. One that was grieving the loss of his eldest, his son, his very young and adoring son.
Thats all he was when he passed, someone's son, not the crown he was supposed to be in about 20 or so years time, he was a dear son and an even dearer older brother to his 2 younger sisters, gone at the small age of 10, junghoon had been here before, in this very palace when their second born came out into the world, their first princess.
It was 5 years ago, and yet he still remembered where every hall lead to, his feet took him towards the princesses room, the guard announced him and he stepped in, the small frame curled into her knees made him think of his brother.
He crouched down and gently patted her shoulder to get her attention, sniffling she rose her head, the older could only frown, but out of the sudden the young princess threw herself into his arms- surprised it took him a second to hug her back, his arms wrapping around the 5 year old securely until she herself was the one that let go.
She shook silently crying like how his brother did, god how his heart ached, he patted her back like he was used to with his own, he wanted to talk to her and tell her he would be her brother, but for now no talking was required, by the doorframe the queen watched her daughter finally cry.
It had been any normal day in the palace, the sister played tag with her dear brother, the older laughed chasing her while their governess watched along with their nanny, it was a harmless game of fun.
The railing wasn't supposed to break, they were not supposed to be in danger within their own home, yet tragedy struck and somehow in the balcony when the sister suddenly slipped while running, she crashed into the rail.
The metal rattled and gave away, the scream shook the witnesses, next thing they saw, the little girl was grabbed right before she fell "shhh, brother's got you" he whispered holding her shaking frame as she wailed, the nanny rushed toward them and grabbed the shaking girl, the governess sighed in relief, the young prince felt guilty for chasing his sister all the way here.
And just when they had thought the worst had passed, his ankle twisted and backwards he fell, and silently he went down. The older woman turned around to give him an earful she found him nowhere, gulping down worry she inched towards the rail and looked down.
The scream she let out alerted everyone, there on the rose bush, punctured with thorns was the 10 year old prince, the king and queen rushed down and both broke down into hysterics, the queen more so "MY SON! MY POOR SON" she wailed clutching his warm body, his crimson blood seeping into her blue dress.
The very color that her son stated bought out the shine in her eyes, oh how could fate be so cruel as to take away a peice of her soul, the king only held onto his wife and son like how he did when he was born.
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The carriage halted infront of the grand staircase of the palace, the coachman got off and opened the door, hand extending to help the beloved crown princess down "thank you kibum" she smiled patting his arm, her dress flowed downwards as her feet touched solid ground,walking up the the stairs with him holding his hand for balance she faced forward while doing so.
Her handmaid's trailed right behind, holding her belongings "I told mother i did not need a whole new wardrobe and ofcourse she persisted, alas here I am with more suitcases than nessasary" "her highness just wishes you have a pleasant stay at the palace before the engagement is to be announced" chimed in yeri, her close confident, her headbmaid.
"Her royal highness, princess y/n kim, crown princess of Celestria" announced the guard as a series of staff lined up in greeting infront of the doors that opened showing the grandiose inside of the palace.
"Welcome to Elysira, hope your journey wasn't bothersome" came down junghoon, his wife standing beside him in greeting "it was a pleasant journey, thank you" she gave him a genuine smile that reached her eyes.
"Well if it isn't the future queen of celestria, my you have grown up into a fine young lady" came the booming voice of king park, his wife giving her a curt smile in greeting, she did a curtsy to both "your majesty" "rise young lady, you are to be family soon" that exclamation caused her to falter momentarily, ofcourse she was well aware about as to why she was here.
The prince she had never met, the second son she was supposed to marry and take him as her king consort, he was nowhere to be found, alas she still kept up her practiced smile as they exchanged pleasantries.
He stood by, right behind some of the staff, simply watching, observing her, his heart hammering in his chest was making him way too aware of her. She was beautiful, she even had a beautiful voice. God how could someone as such even spare him any affection when not even his own parents did.
Unbeknownst to him he had been seen, he stood out in between the composed staff, his eyes unlike their lowered gazes, were directly on her.and she felt the intensity of his observation, what was he trying to make out?, Whether she was worthy of what she was given, or if she was worthy to be with him with or without love?.
Settling into the room she was given, she had junghoon specifically come along with his wife, sohyun, the two of them gave her a grand tour "oh angelface you will love the stables, our horses are all well-tempered, didn't you say you loved riding along the grounds?", that nickname, the same one her older brother had given her, one junghoon had teased her about at the celebration of her 5th birthday.
That year junghoon had come to her home twice, once for celebration and the latter for mourning the loss of his greatest friend.
Now it didn't carry that teasing, rather it carried the warmth her brother voiced whenever he called out to her, she smiled nodding as the tour continued.
"And that's the wing that belongs to sunghoon, did he come to greet you or not?" Inquired the older turning to her whilst she had a momentary lapse in comprehension as to what to say "actually he did, I saw him and he saw me, that's about all the interaction we've had as two strangers, let alone as betrothed's" junghoon sighed in exasperation while sohyun patted his arm giving her a smile.
"Sunghoon is rather reserved, but fear not, he will come along, if I remember correctly you both have alot in common" the tour was cut short due to junghoon having matters to attend to while sohyun had to go rest due to her being pregnant.
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And then came dinner time, it was an odd feeling, people at the dinner table were talking, well junghoon and his wife were conversing along with the king and queen, sunghoon who had been the first one at the table sat quietly eating his food, she had to talk along and laugh at the bleak jokes the king made, the queen laughing loudly as if to make up for something, something that was missing.
She felt it again, the intense gaze, ever so stubborn she met his eyes. He was unnervingly- composed.she did not know what it was about him that made her feel so warm with anger, did he think he was above her due to the nature of his sex?.
He wasn't going to get the upper-hand anytime soon over that , thats something she was going to make sure of. Ever so cunning, her lips tugged up slightly, a quick slip of a polite mask, replaced with another whilst she quirked a brow bringing the fork up to her mouth for a bite.
Chewing with mirth her gaze assessed him, he was the first in averting his stare. Victorious she chuckled under her breath, he had a stoic face and yet here his own ears gave him away. Red as beetroot.
And when in her room she sat infront of the vanity whilst yeri brushed her hair "do you think he will actually come around to talk?" "Whom do you mean your highness?" "Prince sunghoon.. he looked at me as if he had a thousand words and no idea how to bring them outside of his mind" the princess gave out a tired sigh.
"You can leave now yeri, I will sleep" "goodnight your highness" the maid bowed before leaving, left alone she finally felt like she could breathe as a person. It was hell to put up a mask even at such a time all because she was in the presence of others.
Alas she laid in bed, aching from travel she found sleep consuming her as soon as her head hit the pillow.
"These are all her majesty's favorite flowers, she picked all of them representing her family, the camellias are for his majesty, the iris's are junghoon, the hyacinth are for me and the daffodils are for the little one" sohyun spoke proudly and adoringly as she showed off the arrangement of flowers around the garden.
What about sunghoon? She thought, her brows knitting together while the older woman went on about how long each flower took to bloom. She could care less, this wasn't normal, did they forget the second prince in the small detail such as flowers?.
And then in the afternoon when she was having a stroll around the halls, she heard it. The music, someone was playing cello and it sounded beautifully captivating, without much resistance she went towards the source and opened the door slowly.
There with his eyes closed playing the instrument he sat, the sunlight cascading down on him through the stained glass, illuminated by the gentle hues of of pinks and yellows. The sight allowed her to take in his appearance correctly and rather shamelessly she stared.
That is until the music suddenly halted and his steel gaze met her awestruck one, "why did you stop? You play very beautifully" she smiled trying to start what she thought was a pathetic attempt at a conversation, he put the cello in a servants hands and dusted his cloths.
It almost looked like he was going to come up to her and have a talk, god she was dying to know what he would say to her, but all hopes were thrown through the glass when he walked right past her, was she a ghoul and she wasn't even aware ?.
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How dare he make her a fool, he had no reason to be treating her like this, as if she wanted to be with him and not the other way around, she did not need him, he needed her to become a king, the princess's resolve hardened, if he wanted to be indifferent and stuck up, fine, she was going to show him the same thing back.
The very next day she sat in the grand library, opening a book and sat down at the study table. before she could begin reading the Jane Austen book her eyes settled on the neatly arranged margins on the book.
And at the start was a note written rather neatly "if I fall for thee, would I be seen, or overlooked by scrutiny" her eyebrows knit together, who could have written this, could It be? No hes way too stuck up to even open a book such as pride and prejudice.
Elated she read, and read, and read until she heard a distant voice calling out to her "your highness? It is time for supper and i think you should get ready" chimed yeri standing by the table and ushering her along.
Wearing her evening dress she curtsied with a smile which the king and queen reciprocated as much as they allowed themselves to.once again she faced him as she sat to eat dinner with his family, their idle conversations not doing much for her as she studied him, was he just too into his own head to converse with his family?.
How could anyone sit with their flesh and blood and not speak about anything and everything, speaking of flesh and blood. "Your majesty, I saw the gardens, the flowers are quite beautiful" that seemed to bring a smile to her face "oh yes, the flowers are carefully chosen with thought regarding everyone" "i couldn't help but notice, why is it that everyone has a representative flower aside from prince sunghoon?" A tense silence fell at the table.
Behind a maids breath hitched, sohyun grabbed her hand looking at her to not comment further bur she had to, how come something family oriented was so imbalanced? It was simply unjust.
"I think my wife will retire early" the king wiped his mouth with the napkin and got up, hand holding the queen's he left abruptly, she noticed though. The way the woman's eyes shook,was it fear? Disgust or guilt.
The sound of utensils clattering on a plate echoed through the huge dining hall as sunghoon got up, his chair making a protestant noise. Looking right into her eyes for a solid second he tried searching, what was she trying to accomplish? Did she think she was some messiah ? He did not need one.
"What's with him? He's always so quick to leave" she huffed bring the spoon up to her mouth as she ate her dessert happily, junghoon groaned "you have the same spoilt attitude as him, and i am to blame for both of your brattiness" he turned to his wife "please make sure our baby isn't like his aunt or uncle" "with you raising them?" She chimed, a teasing smile grazing her lips as she wiped them.
"She's got a point" laughed sohyun, the crown prince could only sigh but smile nonetheless, he was well aware the kind of father he was going to be, one that was in no way like his own. One that wouldn't differentiate between his flesh and blood, treating one like a runt all because of one set back.
Some days went by like that, she would try to act indifferent and yet she found herself wanting to see what he was doing. She had finished all the books she found to her liking and that was one thing that saddened her.
On the vast grounds outside the castle there was a path that lead to a maze, one she wanted to explore and map out, so thats what she did. She spent an hour trying to find a way to the middle, taking different turns and getting lost had her feeling exhausted, but she was stubborn and in no way was she going to give up.
It took her another half hour to finally reach the middle, and the sight caused her breath to hitch. It was captivatingly beautiful,a fully grown willow tree that was presumably as old as.. him, and that idea only made her admire it more.
Beside it was a pond containing koi fishes. The bench beneath the tree felt inviting enough, so she sat. And for a second she closed her eyes, briefly she let herself get lost in the serenity of her surroundings. The sound of rustling caused her to eyes to open and there standing above the koi pond stood her betrothed.
He was.. feeding the fish? Oh so he had the capability to care for somethings, abruptly she got up determined to have a talk with him but he turned around out of the sudden and looked right at where she was stepping.
Confused she didn't realise he wasn't looking at her feet but rather at the branch that she hadn't seen, which meant her foot had stepped on it and forward she stumbled, he couldn't even react fast enough before either of them knew, she was in the pond and the fishes were frightened on one side.
A hand reached out infront of her, he stared at her with a face void of any emotion, she stared at his hand, stubborn embarrassment making her wish the pond was deeper so that she could drown than having to face him.
Putting her pride aside she hesitantly put her hand in his, a surprised noise escaped her lips as he suddenly pulled her up with surprising strength, her nose bumped into his chest as she scrunched it, she felt it, both butterflies and the feeling everyone dreads in the presence of another.
"A-choo" she sneezed, he felt his lips tug ever so slightly, the princess being to occupied with wiping her nose with her glove she hadn't noticed, ofcourse she didn't in cases of the subtle things right infront of her, she could be rather dense.
He looked at her downwards, her dress was soaked through and she was starting to shiver.he was a stubborn prideful git, but above all, he was a gentleman. So he did what he at the moment thought was the best case scenario.
He put one hand on her waist, the other behind her legs, up he held her like a bride, her breathing picked up realising how close they were, he smelled intoxicating, like some cedar mixed with pine with a note of roses.
Arms around his neck she held tight, her eyes travelled all over his face, he had moles, ones that she somehow wondered, would they tickle if she were to kiss his face, mapping out each and every blemish? .. no, she shouldn't be having such thoughts, he was rude and arrogant! He did not like her.
Swiftly without fail he went out of the maze, she gaped at him like a fish, he could feel her intense stare at the side of his face, digging holes while the gears turned in her head.but he ignored it,having her this close, drenched and pressed up against him, wasn't good. She was igniting such primal feelings in him by looking at him with those eyes, the needy curiosity in them only making him restless.
"Oh my!, your highness what happened" staggering at the sight, with her hand on her mouth cried out yeri.sunghoon put her down on her feet as other maids suddenly ran bringing a towel "i fell in the pond" sighed the princess, she turned to thank him for helping her but he was gone.
"YOUR LEG!" Cried yeri seeing the blood on her leg that seemed to have been sctrached "oh.. i did not even feel that" she chuckled fidgeting like a child that got into trouble." What will i do with you" sighed the maid " i will take care of that, first lets clean you up, a hot bath will do!" And she was being ushered along by yeri and other palace maids, leaving her no room to protest.
Out of the bath, clad in a silky night gown, the princess felt relaxed, her leg bandaged and disinfected. Feeling around her neck she felt the need to fidget with her necklace.. her necklace, where was it.
Her eyes darted around the entire room, before she knew it, she was toppling everything around the room and searching while praying for it to just be somewhere she could find.
But since fate had a way of punishing her, she couldn't find it anywhere "is something the matter- What's wrong?" inquired yeri, worry clouding her face at the sight of the panicked princess.
"My pendant, it's- god yeri if I can't find it i don't know what i will do" she breathed, her chest feeling compressed all of a sudden."i will inform someone to look for it" with that the maid ran out and almost bumped into him by the doorway.
"Oh, pardon me your highness" she bowed before leaving. He had heard it all, so to make up for being stuck up before, he put his pride aside and went towards the maze, he knew his way around it thus it took him not much time to get to the middle.
There glinting under the moonlight was her necklace in the koi pond. Slowly bending down he picked it up, the fishes crowding around his hand made a tiny smile tug at his lips. they were well acquainted to his presence around the water seeing as he was the one to feed them.
He checked the pendant, the golden oval seemed to be broken, the clasp was bent and needed fixing. so straight to his room he went.Settling on his desk the prince spent the entire night cleaning and fixing her necklace until dawn.
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Unknowingly waking up with the sunlight filtering through his window while the birds chirpped at his windowsill, disoriented he narrowed his eyes at the object taunting him from his periphery.
Seeing more clearly he realised it wasn't in his peripheral vision, rather it was on his forehead? Sticking over his eye. A note he had written on a peice of parchment, it seemed.
"I should give this to her" he thought to himself reading the note once over and checking the necklace. Set on seeing her smile, he hastily got ready. His cloths already being put on his bed "i wonder if she'll forgive me" thoughts as such kept clouding his mind as the bath ran cold while he seemed to be in a trance.
"Will she be disappointed if I give it to her directly?" "She has tried conversing with me and yet how will i say anything back when she doesn't even understand how to read me" throwing his head back he exhaled loudly, the tension in his bones releasing.
"Are you a hundred percent sure that you checked everywhere in the hedge maze?" She shook the poor girl who nodded frantic "yes, I deeply apologise your highness but we could not find it anywhere" a groan slipped her usually composed mouth.
Right outside her door a servant stood holding something wrapped in paper "what is that" inquired yeri, taking hold of the wrapped item. Giving it a once over she huffed "there is no note or anything, who sent this?" She pressed causing the younger servant boy to cower "it is sent by his highness, prince sunghoon" huh.. that surprised both princess and maid as they exchanged a meaningful glance.
"Okay, you may leave" she shooed him away, the princess gestured for her maid to open it "MY NECKLACE" excited she whisper-yelled, yeri too consumed by the sheer happiness on her face didn't bother correcting the pitch of her voice.
"Huh? There's a note" taking it from her, the princess read the contents "I hope the pendant isn't crooked still, I tried fixing it, and the book is a gift" her eyes finally caught onto the book the title being "Sense And Sensibility" she read aloud, a gracious smile breaking out on her lips.
"Oh how did he know" she felt it, the fluttering in her stomach, one she read about in her books. Was she starting to like her betrothed? She was certain of one thing, she did not hate him one bit.
Eager to thank him she put her necklace back on with the help of yeri, and with hurried yet graceful steps she went to where he usually was found at this time. in the hallway she heard it again, the cello wasn't the only one being heard this time, no, she could hear the piano playing simultaneously as well.
Yet they did not sound compatible in the slightest, it felt as if the piano was consuming the cello's sound entirely. Peeking from the door her eyes settled on him, eyes closed focusing, then her gaze wandered onto the piano, the one playing it turning out to be the queen.
"You are not playing it like how I taught you, AGAIN!" she heard the shrill voice of the woman she had barely heard speak since her week at the the palace. All of a sudden the cello started, the sound coming frantic and broken, his eyes opened and caught hers.
A silent gasp causing her mouth to open slightly, the sound getting caught in her throat at the vulnerability in his irises. He had picked up his pace while the queen yelled "STOP!" Continued he played like mad "SUNGHOON STOP THIS INSTANT!" her boisterous voice somehow being drowned out by his playing.
Suddenly the strings snapped , the woman that was supposed to be his mother stared at him in disbelief "you-, you insolent!, wretched boy!" she hissed, and he only looked at the woman with the same empty gaze he usually put forth, the raw vulnerability he showed the princess, gone like usual.
Pushing the instrument to the ground ,the prince speed-walked out of the room. He almost walked passed her without notice, but she did, she saw the blood streaming down his hand and somehow it only made her angry, how could a mother be so ill, so cruel to her own child, no matter of what age.
In the hedge maze he sat under the willow tree, his hand seemed to have stopped bleeding, yet he still hadn't taken care of the wound. She was aware she should leave him alone, to not be in his space yet how could she? He barely had anyone that seemed to care.
Finding the middle had gotten easier due to her quick memorisation skills, her eyes settled on him under the tree. His shirt seemed dishevelled, the collar was askew, and the jacket was thrown to the side while he rested with his eyes closed.
He looked beautiful, so peaceful. Yet she was well aware with a home like this, no peace was permitted for long. Settling beside him she looked at his hand And there was the wound, the dried up blood seemed ghastly.
Tsk-ing she softly took it in her lap, that stirred him from his rest, eyes fluttering open and settling on her focused form.she felt his gaze, yet there was nothing negative in how it was making her feel She felt like gold being upraised, he didn't move,he didn't grunt.
She took the bandage she had bought along, cutting a half she wet it in the pond. And ever so attentively she cleaned his hands. He looked at her, really looked at her,and his heart, his foolish little heart skipped a beat, or maybe 2, he was too deep in admiring her to keep count.
"There, all bandaged up" she grinned at him, his mouth twitched, a little. But she saw, the slight curve of his mouth, but it was so brief she barely saw it. "I wanted to see you, i swear i wasn't there just to eavesdrop, I actually heard the music so I assumed you'd be there and then i also heard the piano so I wanted to see who was playing with you..i am chattering like a fool".
She gave him an apologetic smile "what i am trying to say is, thank you, for finding my necklace and for the book, I didn't think you noticed" her voice became small by the end, and it made him sad. He didn't want her to be sad because of him.
He didn't know how to talk to her, he should get junghoon to translate, convey what he wanted to tell her "i am probably intruding, my apologies, seeing as you haven't said a single word in reply, I'll take my leave" that statement caused his brows to jump up.
Was she not aware he was mute? Why- unless... He suddenly got up startling her, and once more she almost fell back into the pond but this time he grabbed onto her,his hand had slid onto her waist and pulled her close.
The princess crashed into his chest, her heart hammering against her ribs so fast she was afraid he could feel it, he looked her over with evident worry in such a way that the reprimanding words that she wanted to utter,died at the back of her throat.the princess could only be confused, why was he so quick to change expressions.
He gave her a once over and seeing her unharmed, he steadily let go of her, and off he went.he needed to inquire.. if what he was assuming turned out to be true,oh so help him god, he was not going to be so accepting towards his parents for such absurdity.
Seething and red with rage, he barged into his brother's study.the older looked up from his papers and found his younger brother standing by the door, dishevelled and looking the definition of anger.
"Can i help you? Why do you look like you wish to throw someone out of the window" he quirked a brow, trying to joke and see that annoyed yet tickled look on his brother's face, but his face did not even twitch.
"Does the princess know I am mute?" He signed, the crown prince opened his mouth, closed it, and took a second to register what he was just asked. "Why wouldn't she? I mean she's here, she can't be oblivious" sunghoon exhaled sharply.
"Well she asked me why I don't talk to her" he had a bitter look on his handsome face, seemingly pained by the betrayal. Junghoon felt his heart drop, no, it couldn't be... they wouldn't do such a cruel thing to the both of them.
"I have to ask them" the crown prince earnestly got up and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder "I'll sternly inquire about this okay, don't react" he went ahead to the meeting room he was sure the king and queen would be in.and there they were exactly sat in their seats, conversing with advisors.
"Mother, father, advisors" he gave a curt nod, and did a gesture with his hand indicating they empty the room,and they did exactly as told. "What is it son, Why are you dismissing my meeting?" Questioned the king, voice confused yet authorative.
"You see, i have come to find out something that I do not find amusement in, not even the slightest bit" he breathed, voice not carrying the usual calm, the king only looked at him, urging him to go on "the crown princess, y/n, is she or is she not, made aware of sunghoon's lack of voice?" The inquiry sat in the room, heavy and charged.
The king only laughed, thinking it a joke. "Oh you're serious" he rubbed his forehead disgruntled "ofcourse she was told, i mean she's here is she not?" He added. "She asked sunghoon why he does not talk to her" he threw in the bomb, the king turned to the deadly quiet queen of his, the older woman only scoffing.
"And even if she wasn't what's it to do for the alliance" that did it, the king looked like he had seen a ghost, junghoon however, felt consumed with fury "THAT IS NOT FOR YOU TO DECIDE!" he belowed, voice echoeing in the vast room, the queen faltering at the sudden loudness of the gentle prince she had raised.
"What,Did you think anyone would give their daughter to him? He can't speak! I DID WHAT I HAD TO, FOR HIM, FOR THIS KINGDOM!" she yelled, he took in a deep breath and let out an incredulouse laugh.
"You are not okay in the head!, you think we are pawns on your chess board? we are humans with feelings, how dare you play with two of the most important people to me" that was it, junghoon could no longer stand his mother.
"Your wife has played mad queen for far too long, and i am done standing idle like you" the announcement only had the king slouching back into his seat, he was far too old to put up with any of this anymore,he knew it was time to let junghoon descend the throne.
The crown prince only sighed, the disappointment settling in his bones "you have not been parents to him in the slightest, and yet I am glad it was me who raised him, i did a far better job than the likes of neither of you" with that he walked out without sparing them a second to react properly.
"Well does she know?" Signed Sunghoon, his hands moving quick yet gracefully. "She does not, it was all mother" sighed the older, the younger licked his teeth, this was beyond cruel to her, how could she do this.
On the other end the princess had accompanied sohyun to the stables, she wanted to check out the horses "oh my god she's beautiful" awed the princess, her hand reaching to stroke the beautiful black horse's coat "that menorquín's sunghoon's she's spirited and feisty, and doesn't let anyone but him touch her" just then the horse snorted loudly and kicked a bucket aside.
"What's her name?" She inquired looking at the mesmerising animal "misty" laughed sohyun gesturing for her to come along and see the others "did he pick the name?" She inquired walking behind the older woman "yes he did!, he adores that horse, and she hardly let's the stable hand go near her, prefers eating apples by his hand and his hand only" she couldn't help but chuckle.
"Yeah only a person like that can have such a feisty horse" "and this one here is Chester, he's junghoon's second horse and very much in love with misty" that caused her to laugh wholeheartedly as she looked at the ivory coat having horse.
"He's a free man,loves people" chuckled sohyun stroking the horse's main as he kneeled into her palm "he's also an attention seeker, so don't let his sad eyes fool you, he is a happy boy" the horse exhaled loudly as if opposing her comment.
The both of them spent the rest of their time at the library, sohyun helped her find the interesting books and they had their tea there as well meanwhile sunghoon was spiraling, he didn't know how he could make up for whatever he had made her think he was.
She probably thought he was stuck up by default, he pinched between his eyebrows "quit pacing like a mad man, if you want to make amends, take her out into town. She wanted to see it anyway" suggested junghoon, his paperwork long forgotten on the table as he stared at the younger who looked as if he was about to self implode.
"You are a god send" the grin on his face made junghoon chuckle "go make her happy" the younger quickly signed "love you" and proceeded run out, he knew just what would make her happy the carnival was happening and today was the last day, she'd love it.
He wrote to a servant and asked them to fetch him the masks from town and that's exactly what the servant did, riding into town he had gotten the exact type of matching pair that stood out, an hour later the servant returned and handed him the masks.
Sunghoon couldn't help but grin, they were beautiful and he knew she'd choose her best to match the colors. Putting a note wrapped behind he sent the maid to give it to her.
"No i believe Jane Austen was very much right with naming her most beautiful character after herself, hell i would too" that comment earned her a laugh from the older "okay i agree with you, i am tired and it is time for me to sleep, good night princess" with that she left, and alone the princess sat feeling the loneliness sink into her posture.
"Your highness? This was sent by prince sunghoon" taking the item from the maid she told her to leave.and confused she stared at the mask, a rather intricate mask, it was beautiful.she stared at it for a second and turned it over,wrapped into the satin tie was a note.
"Would you like to accompany me to the carnival? It is the last day and I always go today p.s wear red and black" that bought a smile to her face "yeri!" She yelled for her maid who darted in looking around scared "what is it, WHO IS IT!" yelled the poor maid, a hairbrush in hand, eyes darting around for intruders , finally looking at the princess's face she quickly composed herself with a sheepish smile.
"Yes my princess?" She could only laugh at the antics of her friend "he wants to take me into town and show me the carnival" yeri jumped into action, pushing her into the bathroom and telling her to be swift whilst she prepped her cloths.
"A carnival.." eying the mask she thought up an outfit just in time as she emerged from the bath "ok we need to get you ready before anyone questions anything" the devious grin on her maids face had her questioning her sanity.
Within time she had yeri help her get ready, and soon enough, she stood infront of the mirror feeling extravagant yet not the polished minimalistic elegance one she usually felt, she quite liked the extra colors on her face "I have attended my fair share of carnivals, it is the time no one questions who you are, if you blend in, you will do good" .
"Oh and the coachman is waiting at the back entrance, seems like his highness already departed for something" that caused her to feel nervous "what if he doesn't show up?" "He extended the invite,did he not?" The implication allowed her to think, he wasn't so egostical after all.
Sat in the carriage, the ride into town was around an hour and a half long, she was ecstatic yet nervous. "I was instructed to leave you here, and here is a note his highness left for you" the coachman had a slight smile on his aged face,it put her at ease.
Thanking him as he helped her get down, she took the note from him. Tipping his hat he got on and rode off. Putting her mask on she read the note, it seemed like a clue of some sort.. was he trying to take her on a hunt to something?.
"The smell brings one closer to the none talking beauty of inexpectant grace, who am I, and where must you find me?" She hummed in thought as she looked around "inexpectant beauty and a smell that is good?.. FLOWERS yeah okay so I must go to a flowershop?" Hesitant she walked into town, after walking for 5 or so minutes she stood infront of a flower shop.
"Here goes nothing" she stepped inside and the smell of all the different flowers allowed her to take in her surroundings easily"looking for something beautiful?" Came an inviting voice from behind, turning to face the source of it she looked at the florist.
"Yes well, i don't know i am looking for someone" she smiled without thought, then it struck her, she was wearing a mask. "I think i have something of yours" he held up a finger indicating for her to wait.
"Here, a gentleman left this for you" he handed her a beautiful bouquet.and the beauty of the arrangement caused her heart to tug, they were beautiful. A mix of lilies and graceful orchids with baby's breaths in between.
Right in the middle was another note, tsk-ing in both admiration and mock annoyance she read it "you are beautiful like these flowers and sweet like honey, but can one come to the capital of Elysira and not have the famous delicacies it offers, p.s i couldn't come up with another riddle on the spot" That admittance caused a surprised yet genuine laugh out of her.
So he wanted her to go to a bakery? Asking around she received instructions to the most famous spot. A quaint family owned bakery stood infront of her, two girls were serving customers whilst an old man was bringing out a fresh batch of pastries.
"Oh, hello, welcome to fuku's pastry house" grinned one of the girls, her enthusiastic greeting only making her feel excited about what they had to offer "I was hoping to find someone" she shyly mentioned as the other girl looked like she remembered something "oh right!, your husband came and asked us to serve you our famous chocolate hazelnut tarts, don't tell anyone we did though, we had to put aside some ingredients to make extra for your order since we run out of those the quickest" that was surpringly thoughtful and within that moment she felt her stomach grumble.
"Here is your order miss, enjoy the carnival!" The girls enthusiastically bid her goodbye, now holding a bouquet and a box of tarts she didn't know how to eat without drawing attention, so off she went.
He was nowhere to be found and it was starting to worry her. Peeking into the box she found yet another note "I know, i know you must be tired, but fret not my dear, i am right where I say next, follow the lights as the sun sets, into the heart of the town i adore" the setting sun illuminated the entire street in hues of pinks and oranges.
And she followed the lampposts until she was right in the middle of town, where a huge fountain stood.and as if in cue, the fountain came alive lights engulfed the entire street.looking around she realised, no one was looking at each other, and as yeri said, no one cared for titles within that moment.
So tugging her mask atop her head, she ate a tart and oh the delicate chocolate could almost curl her toes. She watched the fountain, the statues on it were intricate with details she couldn't dare try catching within one night.
Finishing the two small tarts she dusted her hands and stood up, just within that moment someone grabbed her hand and tugged her along causing her to yelp, but the familiarity settled in when he stood right infront of her in the dimly lit alley.
"Sunghoon!?" She questioned, and just then he turned around asking for her to untie his mask. With shaky hands she did as asked, the prince slowly turned around and looked at her, his heated gaze traveling over her features. She hadn't done such an over the top look, ever, so under his intense gaze she felt awfully bashful.
"What? Do you know how astonishingly unsound one has to be to invite someone out and then not even show up?! i went around for almost 40 minutes!, like a fool-although the flowers were beautiful and the tart was delightful, yet don't think I would forgive your uncalled ignorance of my effo.. the flowers, lilies for renewal, orchids for admiration you don't mean-" rolling his eyes he leaned down and captured her lips into a kiss.
For once, her head was quite, embarrassingly enough, she melted right into it. She couldn't just.. she was a lady! A crown princess, one that didn't kiss princes in alleyways right after having a sweet tart, but oh!, how he held her face and the grin against her lips had her forgetting all her protests so she did what any insane person would, she gripped the laples of his coat and pulled him closer.
The sound of fireworks caused them to pull apart, their breaths coming out in uneven puffs, her lips were smudged and swollen, his weren't looking much better either,smiling at her far away look, she got kissed to quietness. He couldn't stop the grin that had shown up lighting his face in a carefree manner.
And she admired him,he looked like a normal townsboy.one that was able to take away her ability to chatter on and on. Oh she was gone!, this was bad for her reputation, but how softly his mouth had engulfed hers...
Tugging her mask down he leaned over to tie it behind her head, all she could do was stare. He turned around once more and she did the same for him,hand in hand the two stood by a now forming crowd of well dressed individuals.
And then the crowed came alive, the parade had started. The performers doing tricks while the carts were being pulled by huge horses, which were also clad in flashy cloths She felt alive within that moment, this was it, the memory she was going to keep of her first time in his kingdom.
The coachman had picked them up an hour after that, and taken them straight to the palace. she hoped he'd finally say something to her, confess, hell talk about the weather even yet he didn't say a single thing and she looked at the side of his face wistfully.
Her chest hurt, it was as if she was 5 again, and her voice had decided not to break through the confines of her mind. She wanted to scream at him, tell him not giving her a reason for his silence was cruel, and devastatingly so. She could only breath silently, her shoulders slouching as she looked out the window.
When they arrived at the front entrance, sunghoon got down first and extended his hand, stubborn and hurt she didn't dare take it, so without his help, without sparing him another look she walked past him.
His resolve wavered, was she not happy? He apologised, what is it that she wanted!? God he'd bring heaven down for her if she only mentioned it once, yet what was it that made her not like him when they were back in the palace?.
Distraught, the prince went to his room his shirts loosening his shirts collar as he slouched on his sofa he knew he was not meant for softness.he was accustomed to that since he gained consciousness, yet why did it hurt so badly that she did not want him like he wanted her?.
༉‧₊˚.︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.
A few days went by once more, and the two yearned to catch a glimpse of one another, but duties overtook their desires.alas her family also joined her at last, and reunited she had momentarily forgotten her disappointment.
Her younger sister, jooah, was excited to see her brother to be!, oh she was chatting her sisters ear off and the older could only listen, she wasn't cruel to break her expectations so soon.
And around dinner time, it seemed that the weather had gone awry, and her sister had a fear of thunder. so to console her she had beckoned her towards the library to read with her "yeri will keep you company, i shall go and fetch us some treats to enjoy until the storm calms down" kissing her sister's head she went out with a candleabra in hand.
But the conversation she overheard caused her to stumble almost "What What do you mean he is out there in this weather!!" She yelled, the stables boy cowered under her gaze, her voice echoeing through the entire hallway.
"It was misty, the thunder startled her, i was locking her door and she ran out.. i got thrown into a bucket while she got out h- his highness ran after her to bring her back" he rambled on, his explanation falling on deaf ears.
"No, no, he's out there alone!" Urgent she didn't dare waste a second, putting the candleabra aside she ran towards the stables and tried to get onto junghoon's horse "you're not going! Are you out of your wits?!"yelled the crown prince just as thunder clapped loudly causing her to jump.
"you don't get it!" She pleaded looking at him as the older gauged the desperation in her voice the quivering of her lips only caused him to give in "i'm coming with!" He did not leave room for negotiations as the two got onto the saddled horse.
And off they went into the vast grounds, the horse was more courageous than either of them within moment.she thought the worst as the rain pelted down on them, the heavy droplets making it hard to see due to the sheer absurd amount and speed.
And within a distance they saw a horse, it was misty, and then what she was crouching down towards made them gasp in horror. for right in the mud, all wound up was he, seemingly unconscious, and yet his hands were wrapped in misty's reign.
Before the horse could fully halt, she dismounted hurriedly.the mud splashing and getting all over her, shaky she dropped to her knees and pulled him close patting his cheek "hey, HEY!" she muttured, voice coming out broken and out of breath.
His eyes opened briefly, unfocused and distant, his hand softly touched hers that was cradling his cheek,and that was a sign enough as she softly cried pulling him against her chest. afraid he'd dissappear if she softend her grip.
with the help of some servants they had gotten the carriage over into the mud and out, carrying him inside the physician had been rushed in, the time that followed was brutal, luckily he had not sustained any life threatening injuries, but he did have a leg fracture and severe bruising on his side, and was given medication to put him to sleep for a day or 2.
Those were the longest days of her life as she stayed curled up in her mothers lap, her sister also tried distracting her with her new hobbies and the new languages she had started learning, but nothing worked.
So she went to the one who was also worriedly awaiting his wakening "i didn't even tell him I love him, god, brother i do not care if he never talks to me or loves me even as much a fraction of my own, I am willing to put up with that in return I want him to be happy, free and healthy" a broken sob broke out of her.
Sohyun turned to her husband, a confused frown forming on her lips "but sunghoon can't speak?" She questioned the princess, her crying seized as she turned to her sister-in-law to be "whatever do you mean by that?" She hiccuped, her face contorting confused between sadness and anger.
"What she means is that.. sunghoon can't speak, he was born without sound, do you remember when you were 5? Up until the age of 10, when you didn't speak- well it is like that for him but he has never spoken, even as a newborn he had no cries" the confession felt like a slap across her face.
"All this- god! all this time i thought he just thought so low of me he didn't want to speak in my presence, i am so ashamed" she bent down into her knees and cried, like how she did as a child.sohyun and junghoon both engulfed her into a hug as she shook silently.
The next morning she awoke, got ready with little to no enthusiasm, greeted her parents,and even his though the latter pair did not sit right with her after what junghoon had told her.cruel people that had reduced their flourishing son down to his disability, god they made her fume with anger.
"He's awake!" Came an excited jooah, bursting through her room as she sat up from the windowsill "that is not a funny joke joo" she scolded as the 16 year old huffed folding her arms "oh heavens sake!, come" with that she dragged her towards his quarters.
"Go ahead, open it" looking at her sister she felt nervous all of a sudden, was he really awake? Would he hate the sight of her due to her inability to try and understand him from the start? pushing all those thoughts down she prayed and opened the door.
The sight beholding her made her breath catch in her throat he was sat upright and having what seemed to be soup of some sorts.his eyes flicked over to her, putting the food in the hands of a servant.ever so softly he beckoned her over,how could he look at her so kindly?, even after she hadn't been the same towards him.
Wavering slightly,she sat down by his legs and watched him. Having alot to say, oh where could she even begin, then as if moving without comprehending, her hands started signing without sparing a second "i am sorry for not realising, I know the word sorry is very fickle in itself, but that is all I am currently" .
The sight of her using sign language caused his mouth to open in surprise then a wide grin broke out on his lips "you know sign?" He inquired as she nodded "i have known since I was little, my father had a hearing impaired sister, and as a kid I had selective mutism, so I learnt sign as a whole to communicate with my family, they learned themselves to understand me better" the easy and delicate way her hands moved, it only made him feel his love was outgrowing his body, and he couldn't bother hiding it anymore.
"I think you are an olive branch from the Universe, you are the greatest gift i have received in my life" that was it, she couldn't help the warmth that travelled up her neck and onto her face"since when do you use flattery like that" that earned her a half smirk from him as he let out a silent laugh "maybe i just want to compliment the woman i love" her breath stuttered at that.
His eyes searched her face, she seemed shocked, he somehow did not regret admitting his feelings "no matter how shocked you appear, I will not take back what I just said. it is true, I love you princess" that was it, this was the moment she waited for so earnestly.
"And i do not want you to take back your words, because i am madly in love with you" that only made him smile and and pull her closer, the princess yelped in surprise and looked at him worried"but what of your injuries" he only huffed and kissed her head, so without much of a fight, she let him hold her.
Somehow when he had been told by the physician that he was cleared to see others, he hadn't wasted a second to meet her parents properly, and the sight of them responding to his signs without judgement, made his heart grow twice its size, and within that moment he realised, maybe he was allowed happiness if it were with her.
The engagement was announced at the annual winter ball, the towns nobles and royalty from other kingdoms were in attendance celebrating the happy couple. They danced to their hearts content as their journey of understanding one another had just begun.after all,they had a lifetime of learning eachother's language ahead of them.
The end
A/n : this was fun to experiment with, I was inspired by a tiktok edit i saw and was like hmm, and the ideas kept flowing smoothly.
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𝓦𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍⠀ ✶ ⠀with no plans for the rest of the evening and nowhere else to be, you and park sunghoon find yourselves exactly where you always seem to end up: wrapped up in each other.
𝟏𝟕𝟏𝟏 🗯️ ✽ ─── ⏾ 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 park sunghoon ⠀ x ⠀ 𝓯 ! rea ´ ꒳ ` 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : established relationship ˒ porn without a plot ˒ gentle dominance ˒ praise ˒
𝔀𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : explicit sexual content ⋮ 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀, 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁 ✿ body worship ˒ implied creampie ˒ unprotected p in v ˒ handjob ˒ dirty talk ˒ oral sex (m. receiving) ˒ handjob ˒ consensual filming ˒
𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬⠀ꉂ (˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵)
🪽 。 𝐞𝐥’𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 lil write-up that i didn’t proofread from last month !!! ◜ᯅ◝ just one of the many posts i have queued up, ya’ll will hopefully see a proper hoonguin comeback this august ᡣ ︠ 𓈒. .𓈒 ︡𐑠
The room was quiet enough to hear every shift of fabric, every uneven breath, every hesitant movement that seemed impossibly loud in the stillness between you. He stood in front of you, hands curled into loose fists at his sides, like he didn't trust himself to touch you yet.
You were already on your knees.
The metallic clank of his belt landing on the floor cut through the silence like a point of no return.
"Heavy ass belt," you mutter, glancing down at it splayed across the hardwood. Then back up at him, at the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed. "Makes sense. Heavy belt for a man with such a heavy cock."
His breath hitched, and you watched the flush crawl from his neck up toward his jaw as you reached for the waistband of his jeans and tugged. He helped, shaky-handed, shoving them down his thighs, and you had to pause for a second because the visual in front of you was genuinely unfair. That V-cut trailing down into his boxers like it was pointing the way on purpose. The gym had done crazy things to this man's body and he had the nerve to stand here acting shy about it.
You pressed your palm flat against his stomach, just to feel the muscle tense under your touch, and he sucked in hard through his teeth. "God, Hoon," you said, dragging your hand down slowly, following that line. "You walk around looking like this? All day? And you expect people to act normal?"
"I don't—" he started, voice already rougher than it was ten seconds ago.
"Shh." You hooked your fingers into his boxers and pulled them down, and his cock sprang free, thick and heavy against his stomach. You made a sound — appreciative, almost a laugh — because you'd been thinking about this all day and the reality was better than the mental image. He was big enough that wrapping your hand around him didn't fully close your grip, and when you gave him one slow stroke he let out a noise that went straight between your own legs.
"Look at me," you said, because his eyes had drifted shut. They opened, dark and half-lidded, pinned to your face. "There you go. Keep them on me. You can record it if you want—I know you want to."
A shaky exhale. He fumbled for his phone on the dresser behind him, nearly knocking over a water bottle. He unlocked it and opened the camera with a thumb that was visibly trembling. He held it angled down at you, and you smiled directly into the lens, slow and shameless, then ran your tongue flat up the underside of his cock from base to tip without breaking eye contact with the camera.
The phone jerked in his grip. A broken groan punched out of his chest.
"Keep it steady, baby," you murmured against him, lips brushing the head, and then you took him into your mouth.
The first pull was slow, taking him in inch by inch and letting him feel every single one. He was thick enough that your jaw ached a little on the way down and you loved it, loved the way your lips had to stretch around him, loved the weight of him on your tongue. You pulled back, swirled your tongue around the tip, tasted salt, then sank back down further than before and felt him hit the back of your throat.
"Oh fuck—" His free hand came down to your jaw, fingers cradling your face. The contrast, the filth of what you were doing and the tenderness of his grip, made you moan around him, and the vibration made his hips stutter forward on instinct before he caught himself. "Sorry—I’m sorry, I—"
"Don't apologize," you pulled off just long enough to say, a string of spit connecting your mouth to his cock, indecently caught on the phone camera. "Fuck my mouth if you want to. I can take it. That's what it's for right now."
A sound came out of him that wasn't quite a word. Then his hand slid from your jaw into your hair, gathered it back out of your face, and he thrust into your mouth, shallow at first, testing, then deeper when you hummed your approval and dug your nails into his thighs. His quads were solid under your grip, tensed and trembling, and you dragged your nails down just enough to leave faint pink lines and he whimpered. The hell? This big, built, gym-sculpted man standing above you whimpering because of your mouth.
You pulled off, gasping, drool on your chin, and looked up at him with the most wrecked, adoring expression you could manage. "You sound so pretty, Hoon. You know that? Hottest fucking sounds I've ever heard."
His chest was heaving. The phone was barely angled right anymore, his arm was shaking too hard. You reached up, took it gently from his hand, set it on the dresser propped against a book so the camera still caught you both, and wrapped your hand around his cock again, stroking slow.
"Come here," he said, voice wrecked. Before you could even respond he was bending down, hooking his arms under yours, and lifting you off the floor like you weighed nothing. It’s as if all those back days and leg days had been building toward this exact moment. You wrapped your legs around his waist on instinct and his hands gripped your thighs.
He carried you three steps to the couch and dropped onto it with you straddling him, and the impact shoved you forward so your core ground against his cock and you both hissed at the same time.
"Mommy—" he breathed against your neck, the word stumbling out like it had been sitting on his tongue all night waiting for permission, and you felt a full-body shiver run through him beneath you.
You pulled back to look at him. Cupped his face with both hands. His eyes were glassy, lips bitten red, hair already messy from where he'd been running his own hand through it. How gorgeous. Absolutely wrecked and absolutely gorgeous.
"Say that again," you told him, thumbs tracing his cheekbones.
"Mommy," he whispered, leaning into your touch, eyes fluttering. "Please—I need—I need and want you so fucking much."
"I know you do, baby. I've got you." You reached between your bodies, lined him up, and sank down onto him in one long, slow roll of your hips.
The stretch punched the air out of both of you. You stilled, full of him, feeling your body clench and adjust, and he dropped his head forward against your chest with a strangled groan, hands fisting the fabric of your top before tugging it up and off so he could press his mouth to your skin instead. He kissed the curve of your breast, the valley between, dragged his lips down the swell of your breasts and back up, like he was mapping every inch he could reach with his mouth.
"You feel so good inside me," you breathed, rolling your hips experimentally — slow, grinding, taking your time. "So big, baby. Fill me up so well. You were made for this."
He moaned against your skin, open-mouthed and sloppy. His hands slid to your waist, guiding your rhythm without taking control, letting you set the pace while he just held on. You started to move, lifting and dropping, finding the angle that made your vision blur, and each time you came down his hips rolled up to meet you and the sound of it, wet and heavy, filled the room.
"Mommy—harder, please—"
You braced your hands on his shoulders and gave him harder. Faster. The couch creaked. His abs flexed under you every time you ground down and you could feel every ridge of them against your clit, the friction building something white-hot in your stomach. His mouth found your nipple and sucked, and you gasped, fingers tangling in his hair and pulling, and he groaned around you like the pull was a gift.
"Good boy," you said, breathless. "Taking it so well. Look at you—look at this body, Hoon, all this muscle and you're shaking underneath me. All that work at the gym just to fall apart in my pussy."
A broken, pitchy moan. His hips snapped up harder, losing the rhythm, chasing it.
"I'm—close, I'm close, please, can I—"
"Inside," you commanded, grinding down in a tight circle that made his whole body bow off the couch. "Come inside me. Fuck, give me everything. You've earned it, baby, you've been so good."
Three more uneven thrusts and he came with a sound that cracked open in his chest, your name tangled up with "mommy" and something wordless. You felt him spill inside you, his fingers digging bruises into your thighs as his whole body locked and shuddered. You rode him through it, slower now, milking every last pulse out of him while he whined from oversensitivity, until he finally went limp against the couch back, chest heaving, eyes unfocused, pretty and ruined underneath you.
You lifted off him slowly, wincing at the loss, and felt him slip out of you followed by the warm trickle of his cum dripping onto his stomach. He twitched at the sensation, too spent to do anything but watch you through heavy lids.
You reached down, swiped two fingers through the mess on his abdomen, his and yours mixed together, and brought them to his mouth.
"Open," you said softly.
He did, without hesitation, lips parting so you could press your fingers past them and onto his tongue. He closed his mouth around them and sucked, cleaning them thoroughly, eyes on yours the whole time, and when you pulled your hand back a thin string of saliva and cum connected your fingers to his lip before it broke.
You laughed. Light, breathless, genuinely delighted.
"What a dirty boy."
He let out a hazy, fucked-out laugh of his own, still trying to catch his breath, and you leaned down and kissed him, slow and sweet, he reached up to cradle the back of your head with a hand that was finally steady again, holding you there like he'd happily stay under you forever.
🎹 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ഒ or nah (remix) by ty dolla $ign (ft. the weeknd, wiz khalifa, and mustard)
✷ NOTE : thank you all so, so much for reading ! i hope you enjoyed this little world for a while ♡ all of this is purely a work of fiction & doesn’t reflect reality at all . . likes, reblogs, and feedback are deeply cherished and very, very appreciated on here !
★genre : just a fluffy moment between you and this guy you adore more than anything.
★words : 1k
Your day has been long. The kind of long that sinks into your bones, makes your limbs heavy, makes your brain static. You drop onto your bed the second you step into your room, staring at the ceiling, feeling nothing and everything at once. Moving? Not an option. Thinking? Barely. You just wish you could skip ahead - to the part where you’re clean, wrapped up in blankets, and today is nothing but a blur in your memory.
Your phone buzzes. You ignore it. It buzzes again. You groan, blindly reaching for it, glancing at the screen.
Jay.
Your lips twitch into something close to a smile. Suddenly, you have the strength to lift yourself up on your elbows.
Jay - Hey, babe. You done with classes? Wanna see me for a quick kiss?
Yes. A million times yes.
Your reply is instant, desperate in the way you don’t even try to hide. The thought of seeing him makes something in your chest untangle, makes your ribs feel a little less tight. You sit up, glancing around your room, half-heartedly straightening things up. You should shower before he gets here, at least try to make yourself presentable.
The doorbell rings. Not even ten minutes later.
“Shit.”
You roll your eyes at yourself, but honestly? You’re not mad. You’re already moving, already reaching for the door, already smiling before you even open it.
And there he is.
Perfect brown hair. Ridiculously pretty eyes. That smile - the one that always makes your stomach feel like it’s folding in on itself. He steps inside without a word, without hesitation, arms slipping around your waist, body fitting against yours like it was made to. A kiss on your forehead, soft, lingering.
“Hey, pretty girl.”
You exhale against his chest, sinking into him.
“Hi,” you mumble against his chest, breathing him in. Suddenly, today doesn’t feel so bad anymore.
“You got here so fast.” You pull back just enough to look at him. “Were you nearby?”
“Mhm. And I was kind of excited to see you, so I didn’t waste time.” His fingers slide through yours, effortlessly, like second nature. Leading you toward your room, toward the quiet comfort of your space. “Should I have given you more time?”
“No, it’s just-” You hesitate. “I thought I’d have time to shower before you got here. I feel gross. I wanted to look cute for you.”
His head tilts. Something amused, something fond in the way he looks at you.
“That’s an easy fix.”
Before you can ask what he means, he’s steering you toward the bathroom.
You blink. “Wait-”
“If you need a shower, let’s shower.” His voice is soft, but firm, like he’s stating the most obvious thing in the world. “I love being clean. And I love seeing you naked. This is a win for me.”
“You’re impossible-”
You don’t finish, because his lips are on yours, and your brain goes quiet.
It’s slow, unhurried, his hands moving with the kind of gentleness that makes your heart ache. He pulls your shirt over your head, unbuttons your jeans, sliding them off inch by inch. Every movement deliberate. Worshipful. And then his own clothes hit the floor, and the warmth of his skin against yours makes your breath hitch.
The water turns on.
He watches you with something close to amusement as you shiver at the warmth seeping in, presses a dozen tiny kisses across your face, like he’s mapping you out.
“So,” he murmurs, “how was your day?”
You huff, tilting your head up to look at him. “Not great. Until now.”
“On a scale of 1 to 10?”
You pretend to think about it. “Before you texted me? A 3. After your text? A 7. Once you got here? 8. In the shower? 9.”
He hums, pleased. “Excellent. That means I’m doing my job right.” Then, lower, softer. “Turn around.”
You do, closing your eyes, waiting.
For a second, his hands disappear. Your brows knit together. But then.
The scent of your body wash.
The warmth of his palms returning, slow and deliberate, moving over your skin in soft circles.
And just like that, the weight of the day dissolves.
“Jay…”
“Shhh,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to your shoulder. “Let me take care of you. It’ll feel nice.”
And it does. God, it does. You let yourself sink into it. Let yourself exist here, in this moment, where everything is warm and quiet and safe. He rinses you just as carefully, and by the time the water shuts off, you feel boneless.
Then-softness. Warmth. He’s wrapping you in a towel, his hands impossibly gentle. You grip his shoulders, barely thinking, just following. He leads you back to your room, and you let him.
You sit on the bed, half in a daze, watching as he kneels in front of you, rummages through your drawer like it’s his own. He pulls out a pair of underwear, slides it up your legs, his touch featherlight.
“I can do that myself, you know.”
“I know.” He presses a kiss to your knee. “But you need someone to take care of you tonight. Let me.”
He smooths the fabric into place, then smirks. “Though, I usually prefer taking these off of you.” A wink.
You laugh, breathless, fingers sliding into his hair.
“And now?” His voice is quieter, lower. Eyes locked onto yours.
“10/10.”
The smile he gives you is something secret, something warm, something that makes your chest ache.
He smiles, pulling you down into bed with him, tucking you against his chest. His arms wrap around you, warm and steady, and you think : this. This is the safest place in the world. You could stay like this forever, feeling his breath against your neck, letting the rest of the world fade away.
And in this moment, you know. You’ll cherish this. This little pocket of happiness, this unexpected ending to an otherwise forgettable day.
“And now?” he whispers against your ear.
You smile, eyes fluttering shut.
“20/10.”
He kisses your temple.
And just like that, you fall asleep. Wrapped in warmth, in safety, in love.
Jay will always be your safe place. And nights like this always remind you why.
“Goodnight, babe.”
Your last thought before sleep takes you is simple.
