Hey everyone! Here is a masterlist of my recent fanfic entitled Burning Blue. Enjoy!
(This Fanfic is based on the song Burning Blue by Mariah the Scientist)
BURNING BLUE
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A Choi San Fanfic By: lillyateez
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Story Description:
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During a memorable solo performance in Berlin, Germany, K-pop star Choi San from ATEEZ, noticed a beautiful blonde woman named Amber in the front row holding an eye-catching banner. Her striking blue eyes captivated him, drawing him in as if she were the Greek Goddess Aphrodite herself, making him feel nervous for the first time during a performance. His heart was pounding in his chest, as he became so focused on her that everything else faded away, and he felt an intense surge of emotions that he couldn't quite grasp or comprehend at that moment. Wanting to learn more about her and understand what this feeling was that resonated deep within his heart, San arranged for her to be escorted backstage to his dressing room, where he demonstrated exactly what her presence made him feel both mentally, physically, and sexually, causing a romantic relationship to bloom between them.
As their romantic relationship deepens and intensifies over time, they are confronted with the stark realities of San's demanding career and the complexities of him being a prominent figure in the K-pop industry. Throughout the story they both must maneuver through the challenges posed by San's fame, the incessant paparazzi, and the intense scrutiny from media and fans eager to dissect every step they take along the way. Will their love withstand the pressures of San's fame that loom large over them? Or will San be forced to make the painful decision between his career and the woman who had unexpectedly stolen his heart on that memorable night in Berlin?
This romantically captivating fanfic, titled "Burning Blue," delves into the developing love story between Amber and San, set against the backdrop of the challenges of fame and romance within the K-pop industry, ultimately testing the resilience of their relationship and the depth of their profound affection for one another.
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Disclaimer warning:
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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! Please be advised that certain chapters contain mature themes. For readers who prefer to avoid these chapters, a blue-highlighted (disclaimer warning) is provided next to the link to indicate chapters that are rated M. For those who wish to access these chapters, simply go to the provided link in the masterlist and select "view post" if it is hidden; however, this is entirely based on the reader's own discretion. I hope this clarification assists everyone in locating the chapters with greater ease now and I wish you all a pleasant reading experience. 😁💙🙏
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(This Chapter is based on the song Sunday Morning and She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5)
The living room was fully lit now, the morning having arrived without asking permission, and the penthouse felt different somehow. Lighter. Like the walls had expanded overnight to make room for something new, something that was still taking shape but was already starting to feel like home.
He sat there for a while, letting the conversation replay in his mind. His mother's joy. Her tears. Her immediate acceptance, not just of the engagement but of Amber herself. The way she'd said she'd be Amber's Eomma too, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
And then there was what she'd said at the end. About secrets. About honesty.
San pressed his hand against his thigh, thinking about the life growing inside Amber, the secret they were holding together like a fragile bird cupped between their palms. He wanted to tell his mother. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops, to call every member of his family and tell them that he was going to be a father. But he also wanted to protect Amber, to give her the moment she deserved, to let the engagement breathe before it was swallowed by the enormity of what came next.
His mother was right, though. He couldn't wait too long.
A soft sound from the stairs pulled him from his thoughts. San turned his head and watched as Amber appeared at the top of the staircase, her blonde hair loose and tangled from sleep, A soft sound from the stairs pulled him from his thoughts. San turned his head and watched as Amber appeared at the top of the staircase, her blonde hair loose and tangled from sleep. She was still dressed in her black silk nightgown, The fabric catching the morning light that filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, shimmering faintly as it draped over the curve of her baby bump and the lines of her hips. It highlighted her in ways that made his throat go dry.
She looked like something out of a painting—Aphrodite wrapped in silk, standing on the staircase, belonging to him in a way that had nothing to do with possession but everything to do with the way his heart rearranged itself every time she appeared like this before him.
The sight of her wearing that, disheveled from sleep, radiating warmth, and completely his, evoked a powerful and protective sensation within him. It was not a feeling that sought to control, but rather one that inspired him to strive to be deserving of her presence, given that she was there by her own choice and not persuaded by his.
She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, a gesture so endearingly childlike that it made his heart stutter.
"San?" Her voice was husky with sleep, that particular rasp that he'd come to love more than any melody he'd ever sung. "Who were you on the phone with?"
"My mother," he said simply. "I told her about us." Amber paused on the stairs, her blue eyes widening slightly, and he watched as a dozen emotions crossed her face in the span of a single heartbeat—surprise, nervousness, hope, and finally, a tentative, blooming joy.
"And?" she asked, her hand resting on the railing.
"She already loves you," he said. "And she even wants to cook for you too."
Amber laughed, that bright, musical sound that had become his favorite thing in the world, and San felt the last of his worries dissolve into the morning light.
"What are you doing up?" San asked, a little worried, since he wanted Amber to get some good sleep.
"I missed you." she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep as she descended the stairs. Each step was unhurried, deliberate, as if she was navigating the world at her own pace and expected the world to adjust accordingly. "I woke up and you were gone."
San smiled. It spread across his face before he could arrange it into something cooler, something more composed. He'd never been good at masking around her, but around cameras and interviewers and fans, sure—he could flash that practiced, boyish grin that made headlines. But around Amber, his smiles were unedited. Crooked and too wide and entirely honest.
"Sorry, baby," he said, his voice low and warm in the morning quiet. "Next time I'll stay in bed with you until you wake up and flutter those pretty blue eyes at me."
Amber laughed—soft, genuine, the kind that came from somewhere deep in her chest rather than from politeness. She appreciated the way he flirted, the effortless way he tangled a compliment into a tease and made it sound like breathing. It was one of the things she loved about him. The way he could make her feel desired and adored in the same sentence, without ever sounding like he was trying.
With a knowing smile, San beckoned her closer with a tilt of his chin and patted his lap. "Come here, Princess. Sit."
Amber didn't hesitate. She crossed the remaining distance with that same deliberate slowness, and San could feel it—the way his eyes tracked her every movement, the way his pulse picked up with each step she took toward him. She was savoring it. He could tell. The slight curve of her lips, the way her fingers trailed along the island's edge as she passed it. She knew exactly what she was doing to him, and she was enjoying every second of it.
When she reached him, she climbed into his lap with practiced ease, straddling his thighs, the black silk riding up just enough to reveal the smooth expanse of her legs bracketing his own. San's hand found the outside of her thigh immediately, fingers curling against her skin with a grip that was firm without being rough. His other hand settled at the small of her back, fingers flexing against the cool silk, feeling the warmth of her body beneath it.
"Well," he said, his voice rougher now, stripped of the playful polish as his fingers softly traced her jawline. "Now that you're awake and I have your full, undivided attention, I'll say it again. Good morning, beautiful."
Amber hummed, leaning in until their foreheads touched. The gesture was small, intimate, the kind of thing that would mean nothing to a camera and everything to the two people sharing it. "Good morning, Sannie."
The nickname sent a thrill through him, the same way it always did—every single time, without fail, as if his body had been wired to respond to that specific configuration of syllables in her voice. He tightened his grip on her back, pulling her flush against him, closing the already negligible distance between them until he could feel the rhythm of her breathing against his chest.
"Did you finally sleep well?" he asked, his lips brushing against her temple as he spoke.
She nodded, her nose brushing against his. The proximity was intoxicating—close enough that he could count the lighter flecks in her blue eyes, close enough that her breath ghosted across his mouth. "Mmm. But I missed having my warm Sannie sleeping next to me in bed."
San's chest ached. Not with pain, but with something heavier, something that had weight and texture. It was the kind of ache that came from being loved in a way he didn't fully understand yet. The kind that made him want to be better, braver, the kind that made the fear feel smaller.
"I'm right here," he said quietly. "I'm not going anywhere."
Amber pulled back just enough to look at him. Her fingers came up to trace the line of his jaw, featherlight, the touch so gentle it was barely there. "You've been thinking too much," she said. Not a question. An observation. She could read him the way he could read a melody—intuitively, without sheet music.
"What makes you say that?"
Your eyebrow." She gently tapped his right, subtly raised eyebrow with her index finger. "You always tend to quirk your right eyebrow up whenever you're overthinking something. It's very sexy, but it also means you've been sitting here spiraling while I was asleep."
San exhaled a laugh that was more surrender than amusement. "I don't spiral."
"You absolutely spiral. You spiral like a man who's paid to perform for thousands of people but can't figure out how to tell his girlfriend he's scared."
The words landed with surgical precision. He stared at her, and she stared back, and for a moment neither of them spoke. The morning light had shifted, painting them both in warmer tones, and somewhere outside a bird was singing with ridiculous enthusiasm.
"Amber—"
"I know," she said softly. Her hand moved from his jaw to the back of his neck, fingers threading into the short hair at his nape. "I know you're worried about what happens when people find out. About the baby. About us. I know you've been carrying that around like it's yours alone to hold."
He opened his mouth, but she pressed her thumb gently against his lips.
"Let me finish." Her eyes held his, steady and clear. "I'm not naive, San. I didn't fall into this with my eyes closed. I knew what your world looked like before I stepped into it. I've seen the cameras. I've read the comments—yes, I read them, don't give me that look. I know what people say, and I know what they'll say when this becomes public. And I chose to be here with you anyways. I choose you and your life every morning I wake up next to you in your bed, Every time you put your hand on my belly and our baby kicks back, and Every time I let you fuck me senseless. Trust me San, I wouldn't be having Sex with you, I wouldn't be having your child, and more importantly I wouldn't be marrying you if I didn't choose you and your career, which says a lot if you think about it."
San's throat tightened. His hand at her back pressed firmer, pulling her closer, as if proximity could somehow contain the enormity of what he was feeling.
"You're not making this decision for me," she continued, her voice firm but impossibly soft. "You don't get to protect me by keeping me in the dark. I don't need a shield, Sannie. I need you standing next to me as we face it head on together."
His mother's words echoed again, but this time they didn't feel like a weight. They felt like a bridge.
"You sound like my mother," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching.
Amber raised an eyebrow. "Is that a complaint?"
"No." He gently leaned forward, placing a soft kiss upon her forehead. The kiss was unhurried and intentional, conveying a depth of emotion beyond words. As he withdrew, his eyes sparkled, and the furrow in his brow had softened and smoothed out. "It's the highest compliment I can give you."
She smiled, and it was the kind of smile that could end wars or start them. "Good. Because I'm not going anywhere, and neither is this baby. So you'd better figure out how to make those pancakes for three."
San laughed—a real one, full and warm, the kind that shook his shoulders and made Amber bounce slightly in his lap. She grabbed onto his shoulders for balance, laughing with him, and the sound of it filled the penthouse the way music filled a concert hall. Not with noise. With presence.
"I'll make you a deal," he said, once the laughter had settled into something quieter. His hand moved from her thigh to her belly, palm spreading wide over the silk, fingers splayed. "I'll stop trying to make this decision for you. I'll lay everything out—the ugly, the complicated, the stuff that makes me want to lock us in this penthouse and never open the doors again. And you tell me what you want. What you really want. Not what you think I need to hear."
Amber considered this. Her hand came to rest over his on her belly, her fingers lacing through his. "And what if what I want is you? Just you. The chaos included. The cameras included. The comments and the drama and the KQ meetings and all of it included?"
"Then I stand beside you in the storm," he said. The words came out without hesitation, pulled from somewhere deeper than thought. "And I'll make you breakfast every morning until you're sick of it."
"I'll never be sick of you making breakfast."
"Then do we have an agreement?"
She grinned, leaning in until their noses bumped. "We have an agreement."
San kissed her then. Not the forehead kiss from before—something softer, something that started at the corner of her mouth and traveled slowly to the center. A kiss that tasted like morning and promises and the particular kind of bravery that only exists when someone else believes in someone first. Amber's fingers tightened in his hair, and he felt her smile against his mouth, and the baby kicked against his palm, and the world outside with all its noise and cameras and complications felt very, very far away.
When they finally broke apart, Amber rested her head against his shoulder, her body melting into his with the kind of boneless trust that made his heart stutter. His arms wrapped around her fully, both hands spanning her back, holding her the way someone would hold something that they decided to protect—not from the world, but alongside it.
"San?" she murmured.
"Hmm?"
"Did your mom really say she already loves me?"
He pulled back just enough to see her face, the way her blue eyes sparkled with a mixture of disbelief and happiness, and he grinned.
"She said she likes you because you steal strawberries from my fridge; it reminds her of me. That was something I consistently did when I was younger," San responded with a chuckle, recalling his youthful mischievousness as for Amber, she was more like a mature version of his younger self and he loved that about her.
Amber's laughter filled the vast living room, bright and warm and utterly infectious, and San pulled her into his arms, holding her against his chest as the morning wrapped around them like a promise.
His mother had told him not to keep secrets for too long. And looking down at Amber, with her cheek pressed against his heartbeat and her hand still resting protectively over the life they'd created together, he thought that maybe the right time was closer than he'd imagined.
But for now, this was enough. The morning light, the woman in his arms, and the echo of his mother's voice saying the words he'd needed to hear.
"I know you'll always do the right thing San."
And he intended to.
"San?" Amber said softly grabbing his attention.
"Hmm?"
"I'm hungry."
He snorted. "Of course you are."
"How about I make strawberry pancakes. Does that sound go to you?" San inquired with a gentle smile, and Amber responded with an enthusiastic nod, her bright smile bringing warmth to his heart.
"Carry me to the kitchen?" Amber asked him so adorably sweet that their was no way in hell he could refuse her.
"You're impossible." San snorted again.
"And yet here you are, arranging your life around me."
He stood—carefully, one arm beneath her, the other pushing himself up out of the upholstered chair he was sitting in—and she laughed, wrapping her legs around his waist, her belly pressed warm between them. He carried her toward the kitchen, her weight familiar and grounding, her laughter the only sound he ever wanted to wake up to.
Outside, the city was waking up. Cameras would find them eventually. Comments would be made. The music industry of his world would grind into motion the moment the news broke, and there would be storms he couldn't predict and conversations he didn't want to have. But right now, in his kitchen, with Amber in his arms and strawberries in the fridge and a baby kicking against his chest like a tiny drummer keeping time, San wasn't afraid anymore.
With a knowing yet wicked smirk, San perched her on the cold countertop, eliciting a sharp gasp from her mouth once the cold surface came in contact with her ass making him laugh.
"Sannie, you fucking instigator," she growled, swatting his chest, as it was evident to her that he had done it intentionally just by the way he was laughing.
The penthouse kitchen smelled like Sunday morning wrapped in a cashmere blanket — butter sizzling in a hot pan, vanilla extract blooming in warm batter, and the faintest trace of roses drifting from the vase on the counter. San stood at the stove with the quiet confidence of a man who had performed on stages before thousands but found his true audience in a single blonde woman perched on his marble countertop.
He reached for the honey jar — the one his mother had shipped from Namhae a while back before his European tour — and set it beside the gochujang paste he used for everything from marinades to midnight snacks. The roses he'd given Amber the night before sat in their delicate vase, crimson petals curling slightly at the edges, still vibrant enough to rival the shade of her lips when she smiled.
And she was smiling now. Watching him.
Amber sat cross-legged on the countertop with a carton of strawberries in her lap, bare feet swinging gently above the polished floor. She wore one of San's oversized t-shirts, the fabric sliding off one shoulder, and her blonde hair fell in loose waves around her face, still sleep-mussed and effortlessly beautiful. Her blue eyes tracked every movement he made — the way he retrieved the pan, the way he gathered ingredients with a kind of reverent focus — and she felt that familiar warmth spread through her chest, the one that had nothing to do with the stove.
San cracked two eggs into a bowl and whisked them with a fork, the motion practiced and steady. He measured flour with the kind of precision that would make a pastry chef nod in approval, then added a pinch of salt and a spoonful of sugar. As he mixed, the muscles in his forearms flexed, veins standing out prominently with each rotation of the fork, and Amber's breath caught just slightly.
She was in trouble. She knew it. Every time he cooked, every time those arms moved with that effortless strength, she felt a rush of desire that bordered on ridiculous. When he flexed those pecs during their more intimate moments — which he did with infuriating frequency and zero subtlety — she was certain she might actually ascend to the heavens and never come back.
The batter came together smooth and golden, and San set it aside to rest with a satisfied nod.
"Hand me the strawberries, princess," he said without turning around.
Amber slid off the counter and appeared at his side, holding the carton like a sacrificial offering. But instead of simply passing it over, she pulled one out and bit into it, juice running over her lower lip.
"Here you go," she said, her voice utterly unconvincing as she chewed.
San glanced down at her, one eyebrow raised. He took the carton, selected a strawberry, and began slicing it with a paring knife, each cut precise and even. He arranged the slices in a small bowl beside the stove, and Amber watched, reaching over his arm to steal a slice before he'd even finished laying them down.
He swatted her hand away gently.
"Amber."
"What?"
"You just took a strawberry slice from my arrangement."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
He pointed at the gap in the bowl with the knife. "There's a hole. Right there. A strawberry-shaped crime scene."
Amber popped the stolen slice into her mouth and chewed with exaggerated innocence, her blue eyes going wide and round. "Must have been a ghost."
San shook his head but couldn't suppress the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He turned back to slicing, and Amber immediately stole another piece, this time quicker, darting her hand in and out like a tiny blonde thief.
"Amber!"
"Sorry," she said, not sorry at all, licking juice from her thumb. "Blame it on the pregnancy cravings, Sannie."
San set the knife down and turned to face her fully, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The gesture made his biceps strain against the sleeves of his fitted black t-shirt, and Amber's brain briefly short-circuited.
"Fucking pregnancy cravings?" he repeated, his voice climbing in disbelief. "Really? That's the best excuse you can come up with? Princess, you haven't even started having them yet. That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard — and I've heard Wooyoung claim he was abducted by aliens to get out of dance practice."
Amber shrugged, unrepentant, a provocative glint lighting her eyes. "Yeah, well. Admit it, San. You can't handle me when I'm pregnant."
The shift was immediate.
San's expression darkened — not with anger, but with something deeper, something primal that flickered behind his dark eyes like a match struck in a dark room. He unfolded his arms and took a slow step toward her, and Amber felt her heart rate kick up a notch.
"Handle you pregnant?" he echoed, and his voice had dropped to that gravelly register that always made her stomach flip. "Princess, that's not a challenge. I see it as a fantasy."
Amber's jaw dropped. She'd been teasing, poking at him the way she always did, and he'd come back with that — raw and unguarded and devastatingly confident. Her cheeks flushed pink, spreading down her neck, and she pressed her back against the counter edge as if she needed the physical support.
San watched her reaction and let out a low laugh, clearly delighted. "You didn't think I'd waltz back in here and drop that bombshell, did you?"
"No," Amber shot back, though her voice came out slightly breathless. She rolled her eyes, trying to regain composure, and fanned herself dramatically with one hand as she spoke sarcastically, "Thanks for getting me all hot and flustered now. Really appreciate it."
"Anytime, princess," San replied with a slow wink that should have been illegal.
"San! Oh my gosh... stop it," she said, her voice pitching into an adorable little pout. "Your such a flirt."
San found himself smiling at her response, fully aware of the effect he was having on her and she was absolutely right; he was indeed flirting with her, but it was only because she made it so easy for him to do so. San turned back to the stove, and Amber exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She watched the muscles shift across his back as he adjusted the flame, his attractive muscular physique doing very little to ease the desire that was coursing through her veins.
His shoulders were broad, his chest thick and sculpted, and his body came down to a dramatic V, stopping right at his narrow waist, in a way that seemed almost defiant — like his body was showing off on purpose, even when he was just standing still and it made her feel like she wanted to scream into a pillow right about now. God, this man drove her hormones absolutely wild, and it wasn't even entirely her pregnancy's fault—though it might have been half to blame.
San glanced over his shoulder, and his expression softened after noticing how red-faced and bothered she was by him. He offered her a tender look, a gesture exclusively reserved for her only, the one that made her feel like the only person in any room he'd ever stood in. "Alright, sweetheart. I'll give you a breather."
He leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on her cheek, his lips warm and lingering just a second longer than necessary. Amber closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of him wash over her, and when he pulled away, she swayed slightly on her feet.
San returned to the stove and spotted the vanilla extract sitting beside the flour. He picked up the small bottle and added a generous splash to the batter, and the kitchen filled with that warm, sweet scent that Amber loved — the one that had become tangled in her mind with the feeling of his arms around her, the sound of his humming, the press of his chest against her back during slow mornings exactly like this one.
The coffee machine sputtered to life, adding its rich, dark aroma to the mix, and San poured the first ladle of batter into the buttered pan. It spread in a golden circle, edges bubbling, and he watched it with the same intensity he brought to everything — focused, precise, yet somehow entirely relaxed.
Amber climbed back onto the counter, this time sitting closer to the stove so she could watch him work. Her bare legs dangled over the edge, and she leaned back on her palms, letting the morning wash over her. The sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows caught the honey jar, making it glow amber — almost the exact shade of her name, she thought with a private smile.
San hummed a melody as he watched bubbles form on the pancake's surface. It was one of their songs — she recognized the phrasing — though he seemed to lose the thread halfway through and switched to something else entirely, a Korean lullaby his mother used to sing. He didn't seem aware he was doing it, and Amber loved that about him, the way music lived in him so deeply that it escaped without permission.
He flipped the pancake with a flick of his wrist, and the golden underside revealed itself — perfect, even, beautifully browned. He slid it onto a waiting plate and started the next one without pause.
"You're staring," he said, not looking up.
"I'm admiring," Amber corrected. "There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Staring implies I can't look away. Admiring implies I'm choosing to look because I appreciate what I see."
San chuckled, pouring the next circle of batter. "And which one is it when your mouth is slightly open?"
Amber snapped her mouth shut, and he laughed — a full, warm sound that filled the kitchen better than any music could.
She reached for another strawberry from the carton beside her, and this time he didn't stop her. She bit into it and watched him add a second pancake to the stack, the plate growing steadily taller.
"You know," she said thoughtfully, "for someone who performs in front of thousands of people, you're surprisingly domestic."
San glanced at her, a playful smirk on his lips. "And for someone who claims to be a strong, independent German woman, you're surprisingly content sitting on my counter eating my strawberries while I cook for you."
"Hey," Amber said, pointing the half-eaten strawberry at him. "I am your sous-chef. I handed you the strawberries. That counts as labor."
"You handed me the strawberries and then ate half of them."
"Quality control."
"You're insufferable."
"And yet here you are, making me pancakes."
San turned fully, spatula in hand, and pointed it at her. "I'm making pancakes because I love you, not because you're tolerable."
Amber's heart did that thing — the squeeze, the flutter, the warm expansion that made her feel like she might burst. He said it so casually, so easily, as though loving her was as natural to him as breathing, and somehow that made it even more overwhelming.
"San," she said softly, and her voice had lost all its teasing edge.
He must have heard the shift, because his expression changed — the smirk softened, the playfulness faded into something deeper. He set the spatula down and stepped toward her, positioning himself between her dangling legs, his hands coming to rest on the counter on either side of her hips.
"What is it?" he asked, his voice quiet.
Amber reached up and touched his face, her fingertips tracing the line of his jaw. He closed his eyes briefly at the contact, leaning into her palm like a man starved for her touch.
"I just love you," she said. "That's all. I just really love you."
San opened his eyes, and the look he gave her was enough to make her forget her own name. He leaned in, his forehead resting against hers, their noses almost touching. She could feel his breath, warm and steady, could smell the vanilla on his hands and the faint trace of his cologne beneath it.
"I love you more," he murmured. "And our little one too."
His hand gently left the counter and gracefully glided over the subtle, nascent curve that had begun to emerge over the past four months. His palm was warm and expansive, his touch was exquisitely feather-light, and deeply reverent, and in a fleeting moment, they both felt it—a delicate flutter, a gentle kick, as though the baby acknowledged its father's touch.
"Damn she's active today." San laughed completely mesmerized.
"There it is," he whispered, and his face lit up with the most radiant smile she had ever witnessed. The cockiness dissipated. His smirk softened. His eyes widened and then crinkled at the corners, and his mouth formed a smile so genuine and unguarded that it brought a lump to her throat.
"She?" Amber asked with a quirked brow.
"I have a feeling."
San's laugh was quiet, almost reverent. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering there, and Amber closed her eyes and breathed him in—Snadelwood and warm spices. His hand stayed on her belly, his thumb brushing back and forth in that soothing pattern he'd developed unconsciously over the past four months during her pregnancy, and she felt the baby settle under his touch, as if soothed by the same warmth that soothed her.
"You're going to be an amazing father," she said, and the words came out thicker than she intended.
San pulled back just enough to look at her, and there was something raw in his expression—something he usually kept buried beneath layers of charm and confidence. "You think so?"
"I know so."
He kissed her then. Not the teasing peck from earlier, not the brief brush of lips he used to punctuate a joke. This was slow and deliberate, his hand cradling the back of her head, fingers tangling in her messy blonde hair. His mouth moved against hers with a tenderness that made her ache in places that had nothing to do with her body. She could taste the coffee on his lips, faintly bitter, and beneath it something that was just him—warm and familiar and intoxicating.
She kissed him back, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. He responded by deepening the kiss, his other hand sliding from her belly to the curve of her waist, pulling her toward him until she was perched at the very edge of the counter, pressed against him from chest to hip. She could feel the hard planes of his body against hers, the steady thud of his heartbeat, and she made a small sensual sound against his mouth that she hadn't meant to make.
San pulled back, breathless, his forehead resting against hers.
"San," she breathed, and this time his name came out like a request.
"Hmm?"
"The pancake is burning."
His eyes flew open. He whipped around to the stove, where the pancake in the pan was indeed developing a decidedly un-golden hue around the edges. He grabbed the spatula and flipped it with a curse in Korean that Amber didn't understand but found inexplicably attractive, then he examined the slightly overcooked side with a wounded expression of a man whose art had been compromised.
"This is your fault," he said, sliding the pancake onto the stack.
"Mine?"
"You distracted me. With your face. Your feelings, and fuck that kiss, like god damn princess."
Amber burst out laughing, the sound bouncing off the marble countertops and filling the penthouse with warmth. "I distracted you with my face?"
"Yeah you know what your face does to me when you say things like that," San muttered, adjusting the flame and pouring fresh batter into the pan. "Don't act so innocent princess."
"I never act innocent. I am innocent San!"
He shot her a look that said he found that claim approximately as convincing as her pregnancy cravings excuse.
"Everything we did last night says otherwise, princess, besides, I wasn't the one who wanted dick last night." San said and she grinned. He did have a valid point she wasn't innocent when it came to that, and she found herself remembering the erotic, deep throated, Blowjob, she gave him last night as she swung her legs against the cabinet below until the next pancake he made came out perfect — golden, fluffy, fragrant with vanilla — and San added it to the stack with a satisfied nod. He turned off the stove and carried the plate to the kitchen island, setting it down with a flourish before returning for the bowl of sliced strawberries and the honey jar his Mom sent him.
Amber slid off the counter and followed him, hovering at his elbow as he arranged everything with the kind of care most people reserved for fine dining. He drizzled honey over the stack in an elegant spiral, layered strawberries on top until the pancakes looked like a crown, and stepped back to survey his work.
"For you, princess," he said, presenting the plate with a slight bow.
Amber looked at the pancakes, then at him, then back at the pancakes. "San, this is beautiful. I almost don't want to eat it."
"Almost," he repeated, handing her a fork. "Key word being almost."
She took the fork and cut into the stack, steam rising from the layers, and took a bite. The pancake was light and tender, the vanilla shining through, the honey adding a floral sweetness that paired perfectly with the bright acidity of the strawberries. She closed her eyes and made a sound of pure contentment.
"Good?" San asked, pouring two cups of coffee from the machine.
"Oh my gosh! These are the best pancakes I've ever had, and I'm from Germany, a country known for damn good pancakes, but yours make those look weak!" she said, and she meant it, judging by her dramatic enthusiasm that made San laugh.
"I'm glad you think so princess." San said placing an affectionate kiss on her head making her smile contently before she added "And I'm not just saying that because you just told me you love me more."
San set both coffee cups on the island and slid into the seat across from her, wrapping his hands around his mug. "You'd better not. My pancakes stand on their own merit."
"They do," she agreed, taking another bite. "So do your arms, by the way."
San choked on his coffee.
Amber watched him cough with a serene smile, stealing a strawberry from the top of the stack. "What's wrong? You can make comments about my face but I can't appreciate your arms?"
"That's — that's different, Princess." he sputtered, and she was delighted to see a flush creeping up the back of his neck.
"How is it different?"
"Because I — you — " He stopped, took a breath, and pointed his coffee cup at her. "You're doing this on purpose."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Amber said, taking a delicate sip of her coffee. "Must be the pregnancy hormones making me honest."
San stared at her for a long moment, then dropped his head onto the island with a dramatic groan. "You're going to be insufferable for the next seven months, aren't you?"
"Absolutely," Amber confirmed cheerfully, reaching over to ruffle his dark hair. "And you're going to love every second of it."
He lifted his head just enough to peer at her with one eye, and despite the mock suffering on his face, she could see the truth beneath it — the joy, the tenderness, the quiet amazement of a man who still couldn't quite believe this was his life. This kitchen, this morning, this woman carrying his child, these pancakes that smelled like vanilla and home.
"Every second," he agreed softly. "Even the burnt ones."
Amber's smile softened, and she reached across the island to lace her fingers through his. His hand was warm, calloused from years of dance practice, and it closed around hers with a gentle strength that made her feel safe in a way nothing else ever had.
The sunlight shifted through the windows, casting long golden streaks across the marble, and the roses in their vase seemed to glow. Somewhere in the penthouse, a notification pinged on San's phone — probably the group chat, probably Wooyoung saying something ridiculous — but neither of them moved to check it.
"Hey San?" Amber said quietly.
"Hmm?"
"When the baby comes, are you going to cook like this for me every morning?"
He squeezed her hand and tilted his head, considering the question with exaggerated seriousness. "Every morning? No. Some mornings I'll make matcha lattes instead."
She threw a strawberry at him. He caught it midair, popped it into his mouth, and winked at her.
"I'll cook for you every morning for the rest of our lives if you want," he said, and the lightness in his voice couldn't quite disguise the weight of the promise beneath it. "Pancakes, eggs, bibimbap, whatever you crave. Even if it's 3 a.m. and it's pickles and ice cream, which — if that happens, I'm filing a formal complaint."
Amber laughed, bright and full, and leaned across the island to kiss him. It was soft and sweet, tasting like strawberries and coffee and the kind of love that doesn't need grand declarations because it lives in the ordinary moments — in burnt pancakes and stolen fruit and honey jars shipped from Namhae.
When she pulled back, San was smiling against her lips, and his thumb traced a gentle circle over her knuckles.
"Amber?"
"Yeah?"
"Next time you want to distract me while I'm cooking, at least wait until the pancake is off the pan."
She grinned. "No promises."
He shook his head, but the smile never left his face. Outside, the city hummed with its usual restless energy, but inside the penthouse kitchen, time moved slower. The coffee cooled, the roses blooming in their vase, and two people sat across from each other at a marble island, hands intertwined, eating imperfect pancakes in perfect silence — the kind that only exists when every word that needed saying has already been said.
And somewhere beneath it all, tiny and defiant, the baby kicked again.
Slight smut - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, petnames princess, beautiful, pretty girl, cussing, shower sex, male masturbation, dirty talk, fantasy, fantasizing.
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(This Chapter is based on the song My Everything by Ariana Grande and Marry Me by Train)
Outside, the faint glow of dawn had begun to creep through the expansive windows of San's bedroom, painting everything in shades of pale gold and muted blue. The city below was still quiet, that brief window of peace before Seoul fully woke and stretched its limbs. San was the first to awaken, his eyes fluttering open and gradually adjusting to the soft glow of the new day. His gaze landed on Amber, peacefully asleep, and a wave of warmth washed over him, coaxing a gentle, dreamy smile to his lips. Waking up next to her after the wild night they had shared was a joy he knew he would never tire of; her mere presence filled him with happiness and contentment.
He took a moment to admire the enchanting sight of her slumbering form, her golden blonde hair cascading over the pillows like rays of sunshine, her rosebud lips slightly parted, releasing the softest snores that he found utterly charming. San observed the delicate way her lashes cast tiny shadows on her cheeks, a faint blush still lingering from their passionate night together. He chuckled to himself, marveling at how thoroughly fucked she looked both ravished and beautiful, his mind replaying the events of the previous night. He recalled the way her breath had caught when he whispered her name like a sacred vow, the warmth of her breath against his neck as they sealed their promises in more than mere words, the way her thighs had opened for him so eagerly, and the intoxicating heat of her pussy enveloping him as he murmured tantalizing promises in her ear. Just the thought of it sent a thrill through him, but he was sweetly interrupted when he felt Amber shift beside him, her long, lovely lashes fluttering open, revealing her radiant morning beauty.
"Morning Beautiful. How do you feel? Tell me what you're thinking about with those pretty eyes." San asked, his voice still thick with sleep as he kissed the tips of her fingers with gentle reverence before kissing her lips affectionately.
“I feel amazing after last night, but I’m still pretty tired,” Amber replied, stifling a yawn with half-closed eyes.
San couldn’t help but laugh at her adorable response. “Tired already, princess?” he teased, planting a soft kiss on her head and wrapping the silk sheets around her more snugly as she nestled closer to him.
“Thanks to you and your endless stamina,” Amber shot back playfully.
“Fair point! Can’t argue with that!” San chuckled, acknowledging her truth even though it was hard to admit.
“Still, I should probably get up and sort things out so I can whip you up a nice breakfast,” Amber said, sitting up with a hint of fatigue in her voice. San could hear the weariness in her tone, but he knew she was eager to start the day right, even if it meant pushing through her exhaustion to make breakfast for her future husband. Yet, in his heart, he knew that her rest and well-being mattered far more than any breakfast.
"Sleep now, Amber," San murmured gently, guiding her back to nestle against his chest, enveloping her in his warmth. "There's no need to fret; you’re clearly worn out, my Princess. Just drift back to sleep." His voice, a soothing melody, wrapped around her like a soft blanket, easing her worries.
Amber nodded, curling up as tightly as she could against him, savoring the calming rhythm of his heartbeat. San remained by her side, his gaze fixed on the gentle rise and fall of her chest as he traced comforting patterns on her arm with one hand, while the other rested on the delicate curve of her still-secret baby bump—known only to a select few, including his trusted bandmates who had stood by him since their debut days.
His tender caresses eventually lulled her back into a deep slumber, a content smile blooming on San's lips. "There you go... sweet dreams, my princess," he whispered, planting a soft kiss on her temple, a familiar gesture for when she was too far gone in sleep to notice. "Saranghae," he breathed, his voice barely a whisper in the stillness. San stayed with her for quite some time before eventually slipping out of bed with a quiet ease, careful, so as not to disturb her. The sheets rustled softly against his warm skin as the morning light glinted off the sheen of sweat on his sculpted body. He stretched, rolling his shoulders and pressing his palms against the cool glass of the window, welcoming the fresh morning air that drifted in through the slightly ajar pane.
Below, the city was awakening—distant honks, the low buzz of early traffic, and a bird perched on the ledge singing its cheerful morning tune. San leaned his forehead against the glass and let out a slow breath, a grin spreading across his face that he couldn’t contain. Soon, he would be a husband and a father. The realization hit him anew each morning, like sunlight breaking through clouds, filling him with a thrilling mix of fear and joy. He padded barefoot across the cool marble floor toward the bathroom, moving with the stealth of someone accustomed to navigating hotel rooms in the early hours after years of idol life.
The bathroom was as sleek as ever, adorned with dark marble countertops and matte black fixtures that created a serene, chilled atmosphere—a much-needed escape when the chaos of his career became overwhelming. After turning on the water, he stepped into the shower, the tiles still cool beneath his feet as warm steam curled around his ankles like a living thing. The water hit his shoulders first—hot, almost too hot—but he didn’t flinch. He let it sluice down his back, loosening the knots in his muscles from last night’s vigorous fucking. His fingers twitched at his sides, his mind already restless, for there was only one person in his mind right now.
"Amber."
Just saying her name and thinking about last night with her made his cock twitch. He exhaled sharply, tilting his head back so the water could run through his hair, plastering the dark strands to his forehead. His mind was a goddamn slideshow of last night—her golden hair fanned out on his pillow, the way her lips had parted when he’d pinned her wrists above her head, the little gasp she’d made when he’d finally pushed inside her.
"Fuck." San groaned, his hand already wrapping around his thickening length. The water made his grip slick as he stroked himself, slow at first, just enough to take the edge off. But then the memory of Amber’s voice slithered into his head—low, teasing, dirty—and his hips jerked forward involuntarily.
"You like that, don’t you?" she’d purred, her fingers teasing tracing the waistband of his pants. "Like how hard you get for me?"
San hissed, his thumb pressing against the slit of his cock, spreading the precum that had already beaded there. His other hand braced against the shower wall, knuckles whitening as he picked up the pace. The water drummed against his back, the sound mixing with his ragged breathing.
"God, Amber…" His voice was rough, barely audible over the spray. "You’re gonna be the death of me."
He could see her now—on her knees in front of him, those pretty blue eyes locked onto his as she’d taken him into her mouth. The way her lips had stretched around his girth, the wet heat of her tongue swirling around the head of his cock before she’d hollowed her cheeks and taken him deeper. San’s breath hitched, his balls tightening as the memory sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his spine.
"Fuck, princess" He bit out the word, his strokes becoming erratic. His cock throbbed in his grip, the pressure building at the base of his spine. He could almost feel her hands on him—one wrapped around the base of his shaft, the other cupping his balls, rolling them gently as she’d worked him over just how he liked it.
"You taste so good," she’d murmured against his skin, her breath hot and damp. *"I could suck you off all night."
San’s hips snapped forward, his cock pulsing in his fist as he imagined her swallowing around him, her throat fluttering as she took him deeper. His breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, his muscles tensing as the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter.
"Oh shit Amber—fuck." His voice broke, his body shuddering as he came with a groan, thick ropes of come splattering against the shower wall. His knees nearly buckled, but he caught himself, his chest heaving as the water washed away the evidence.
But it wasn’t enough.
San leaned against the wall, his forehead pressing against the cool tile as he caught his breath. His cock was still half-hard, the memory of Amber’s mouth, her hands, her beautiful, soft sounding, voice still lingering in his mind like a drug.
He reached down again, his fingers wrapping around his shaft. This time, he didn’t hold back.
The next memory hit him like a punch to the gut—Amber on her hands and knees, her swollen belly pressing into the mattress as he’d gripped her hips and fucked her from behind. The way her back had arched, her moans filling the room as he’d reached around to play with her clit, feeling her pussy clench around him as she came.
"San—" Her voice was breathless, desperate. "Please baby, don’t stop—"
San’s cock jerked in his hand, already leaking again. He stroked himself faster, his breath coming in sharp pants. The water was starting to cool, but he didn’t care. All he could focus on was the way Amber had looked at him last night—her lips swollen from his kisses, her eyes dark with lust as he growled against her skin, "You’re mine," his teeth grazing her shoulder. "Say it."
"Baby I’m yours." she’d gasped, her nails digging into his back as he’d thrust into her harder, deeper.
San’s hand moved faster, his grip tightening as the pleasure built again. His balls drew up, his body tensing as he imagined Amber’s pussy milking his cock, her walls fluttering around him as she came apart beneath him.
"Fuck—Amber— that's it. Cum with me, pretty girl." His voice was a broken whisper, his body shuddering as he came again, his come mixing with the water as it swirled down the drain.
He slumped against the wall, his breath ragged, his skin slick with sweat and water. His cock was still twitching, still sensitive, but the edge had been taken off.
For now.
San exhaled slowly, running a hand through his damp hair. He could still feel the ghost of Amber’s touch, the way her fingers had tangled in his hair, the way her body had arched against his.
He turned off the water, stepping out of the shower, grabbing a towel nearby on the wall hook, and slung it low around his waist, his mind already drifting back to Amber. To the way she’d looked at him when he’d proposed, her eyes shining with tears as she’d said yes and the way her pregnant belly had felt under his hands, reminding him of the little life they’d created together growing inside her.
San glanced up at his reflection in the foggy mirror. After last night's exertions he was basically a mess in the best way—his eyes still dark with lingering lust, his hair sticking up in every direction. But the smirk on his face was unmistakable.
Last night had been good, probably one of the best fucks he ever had with a woman and he long to do it again and again with her, he longed to wake up next to her after he fucked her senseless, to feel her body pressed against his, her breath warm against his skin. He also longed to hear her laugh, her moans, her whispered pleas for the rest of his life as a soon to be married couple.
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The morning sun streamed through the expansive windows of San's penthouse, growing more radiant with each passing hour, casting a warm glow of soft gold and ivory across the bedroom. The lingering aroma of sandalwood clung to his skin, a trace of warmth from his shower, blending with the delicate hints of vanilla and rose petals that seemed to follow Amber like a devoted shadow.
He paused in the bathroom doorway, a towel casually draped around his hips, his jet-black hair damp and tousled from his recent wash. His eyes wandered to the bed, where Amber laid on her back, one hand protectively cradling the gentle curve of her pregnant belly, her lips slightly parted as she let out the sweetest little snores that never failed to capture San's attention and, the way she shifted her legs together in her sleep, as if she wanted to keep all his warm load from last night tucked safely inside her, sent an erotic thrill of pride and something fiercely possessive through him.
A prideful smirk played on his lips, the sound tugging at something warm within him. "Damn, princess," he whispered softly, his voice barely rising above the gentle hum of the city below. "I must've really fucked you good last night if you're sleeping this soundly in my bed."
Memories of her breathless gasps, her nails digging into his shoulders, and the way she had whispered his name like a sacred incantation ignited a familiar warmth within him. Yet, seeing her now, so serene and utterly his, tightened something deeper in his chest. No nightmares, no restless tossing—just her, sated and peaceful, as if she trusted him to keep the world at bay for her while she slept.
He glided across the cool marble floor with silent grace, his footsteps barely making a sound against the polished surface. As he entered his spacious closet, he was enveloped by the familiar scent of his cologne, mingling with the rich aroma of leather from the meticulously arranged designer jackets hanging on their hooks. Choosing his attire for the day, San settled on a classic suit that struck a balance between casual and polished, hoping to project an image of maturity that might impress his father. Despite his doubts, he pressed on, determined to do right by Amber. He wasn't the kind of son who would shut out his family during such a pivotal moment in his life.
San slipped into a crisp white button-down shirt, leaving a couple of buttons undone just for Amber, fully aware of how much she adored that look on him. It brought back memories of last night, when her eyes had been irresistibly drawn to his black silk shirt, deliberately left unbuttoned, offering her a tantalizing glimpse of his toned chest. From that moment, it felt as if Amber couldn't keep her hands off him, and he reveled in the thrill of igniting such a wild, eager spark within her. Next, he donned a pair of impeccably tailored black slacks that hugged his thighs just right, completing the look with a matching suit jacket. This ensemble radiated power, making him feel as if he were ready to conquer the world like a Korean Mafia boss.
He adjusted his cuffs in the mirror, tilting his head as he studied his reflection, adjusting his collar with practiced precision. The white fabric of his shirt hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, tapering at the waist in a way that accentuated the muscular frame he'd spent years cultivating through punishing dance rehearsals and gym sessions. The reflection staring back at him was a man transformed—not just the charismatic vocalist who commanded stages before thousands of screaming fans, but someone steadier, someone with purpose. Just the thought of introducing Amber to his family especially, his father, sent a ripple of nervous energy through his chest, but beneath it lay an unshakable resolve. She was the woman carrying his child which he was going to marry. They deserved to know each other, not through filtered stories or careful PR statements, but face to face.
Satisfied with his choice of attire, San let out a content sigh and ran a hand through his still-damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and allowed himself one more glance at the woman tangled in his sheets.
She hadn't moved an inch.
A soft laugh escaped him—warm and low, filling the quiet space like a melody. He leaned against the closet doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, simply watching her breathe. Her golden blonde hair spilled over her face, partly covering her slumbering features. The silk sheets had slipped halfway off her body now, pooling around her waist, revealing the elegant slope of her bare back, all the way down to her gorgeous milky leg that was bent and draped over the large pillow between her legs as if she was imagining that it was San there. She looked like a painting, something impossibly beautiful that he'd somehow been allowed to touch.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand. He crossed the room in three long strides, silencing it before it could disturb her. A message from Wooyoung, probably wondering what he was up to like always, that curious bastard. San glanced at the screen, then back at Amber, and swiped it away without a second thought. Whatever it was, it could wait. She could not. Today was exclusively dedicated to her and the momentous occasion of her meeting his parents for the first time.
He set the phone face down and turned back to Amber.
Her fingers twitched against her belly, and a small sigh escaped her lips—something between a hum and a moan that made his stomach flip. He crouched beside the bed, bringing himself to her eye level, though her eyes were still closed. His fingers moved on their own, gently brushing the golden strands from her face, tucking them behind her ear with a tenderness that would have surprised anyone who only knew him as the commanding, fierce performer on stage. But this was their world—private, unhurried, and honest.
"You have no idea what you do to me," he whispered, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbone. "No idea at all."
Amber stirred slightly, her nose scrunching in that way that always made his heart stutter. A small sound escaped her lips—something between a sigh and a hum—and her hand moved from her belly to reach outward, fingers searching blindly across the sheets.
San smiled. Even in her sleep, she was looking for him.
He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against her knuckles. Her fingers curled around his, holding on with a gentle but firm grip, and she settled again, a tiny smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
He stayed like that for a long moment, crouched beside the bed, holding her hand, watching the rise and fall of her breathing. The city below was already awake—honking taxis, distant sirens, the rhythmic pulse of a metropolis that never truly slept—but inside this penthouse, time felt suspended. Like the world had agreed to hold its breath just for them. He stood slowly, pressing a kiss to her temple before pulling the duvet up over her bare shoulders. She'd murmured something in German, half-asleep, and curled deeper into the warmth he'd left behind in the sheets as he made his way out of the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him that way nothing outside would disturb her peaceful slumber.
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Downstairs, the living room was much cooler than the bedroom upstairs, the morning air crisp against San's skin as he crossed his arms and settled into the upholstered chair situated beside the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the vast city of Seoul. The leather creaked softly beneath him, a familiar sound that usually brought comfort.
He'd been awake for nearly an hour now, his mind turning over the same thoughts like stones in a riverbed. Upstairs, Amber was still sleeping, her blonde hair splayed across the pillow in that effortlessly beautiful way that made his chest ache every single time he looked at her. He had slipped out of the room quietly after pressing a kiss to her temple before pulling the duvet up over her bare shoulders, he remembered how she'd murmured something in German, half-asleep, and curled deeper into the warmth he'd left behind in the sheets.
He smiled at the memory now, sitting alone in the quiet atmosphere of his living room.
There was something he needed to do this morning. Something he'd been thinking about since the moment Amber had said yes, her blue eyes glistening with tears that matched his own.
He needed to call his mother.
San picked up his phone from the side table, the screen illuminating his face with a subtle blue light. He stared at his mother's contact photo for a long moment—a picture of him as a young boy standing beside his mother during Chuseok, her smile wide and genuine, her arm around his shoulders. it warmed his heart to see how proud she looked in that photo. She always looked proud when it came to him. But this was different. This wasn't about comebacks or awards or sold-out concerts. This was about his life, his future, the woman sleeping upstairs who had somehow rewritten every plan he thought he had.
He took a breath and pressed call.
The phone rang twice before her voice broke through the silence.
"Annyeonghaseyo, my dear San!" His mother's voice was warm, laced with amusement, as if she'd been waiting for his call even though he hadn't told her to expect one.
"Hello, Eomma." San said the words softly, almost carefully, and she heard the shift immediately. His mother knew him too well, and had been reading the textures of his voice since before he could form proper sentences.
"San-ah, you sound like you've been thinking too hard again," his mother said, her voice carrying that particular warmth that only a mother's voice could carry across any distance. "I can hear it in your voice."
He laughed, because she was right. She was always right. He leaned back into the chair, the leather groaning beneath him as he shifted his weight.
"I've always been a terrible liar, haven't I?" he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.
"The worst," she agreed cheerfully. "You get that from your father. The man couldn't keep a surprise to save his life. So tell me, what's going on? Are you eating properly? You're not skipping meals again, are you? I told you—"
"Eomma, I'm eating," he interrupted gently, the corner of his mouth lifting. "I promise. Amber makes sure of that."
There was a beat of silence. "Fuck..." San cursed under his breath low enough so his mother couldn't hear as he face palmed himself after he realized what he'd just said. He hadn't meant to drop her name so casually, not before he'd even gotten to the real news. But it had slipped out, natural as breathing, because that was what Amber had become to him. Natural. Essential. Like oxygen.
"Amber?" his mother repeated, and he could hear the curiosity blooming in her tone like a flower unfolding. "Who's Amber?"
"Well, Eomma...um....you see...Amber is this remarkable German woman I met during our European tour. We've grown quite close lately, and she's even been teaching me German," San explained, essentially delaying his full disclosure about the proposal just yet, primarily due to his growing nervousness of just putting himself stupidly on the spot like this.
There was a brief pause again until His mother made a sound that was half-laugh, half-knowing hum. "A woman who teaches you new languages. That sounds serious, San-ah."
He didn't deny it. There was no point. His mother would see through any attempt at deflection like glass.
Thankfully to San's relief the conversation drifted into a different topic, naturally at first. His mother asked about his schedule, about the new choreography he was learning for the upcoming comeback. She asked about the weather in Seoul, whether the cherry blossoms had started blooming their petals yet since it was springtime. She asked about the other members too—about Wooyoung's latest prank, about whether Hongjoong was still sleeping in the studio like a man possessed by his own creative demons.
San answered everything with the ease of a son who had learned to compartmentalize his life into neat, digestible pieces for the woman who raised him. He told her about Wooyoung hiding Yunho's dance shoes in the freezer. He told her about Hongjoong's newest obsession with a vintage synthesizer he'd found in a shop in Itaewon. He told her that Mingi had started cooking, which was both impressive and mildly terrifying since he almost caught the studio on fire after setting the smoke alarms off in the building.
But underneath all of it, the real conversation was building, the way a wave gathers far from shore before it finally crests and breaks.
"Eomma, Listen, I have some wonderful news regarding Amber, the woman I was just telling you about." San stated, his hand once again reaching for the back of his neck, gently rubbing away the tension. "At least, it's wonderful news for you and Haneul. Now Appa...I'm not quite sure how he'll take it yet."
There was a pause, the kind that hummed with curiosity. He could almost see his mother sitting up straighter in her kitchen, setting down whatever she'd been holding.
"Oh? And what might that be San?"
He took a deep breath. The words had felt enormous in his head, heavy and world-altering. But now, sitting in the quiet of his penthouse with the morning light spreading across the floor, they felt lighter than he expected. They felt right.
"The main reason why I called you today, Eomma, was to let you know that I really love Amber from the bottom of my heart." he paused briefly before adding "And that I proposed to her last night."
There was another pause of momentary silence.
Not the heavy kind, not the disappointed kind. The kind that buzzed with emotion, the kind that made his chest tighten just a little because he could feel everything she wasn't saying yet. He gripped the armrest of the chair, waiting.
"San-ah..." His mother's voice wavered, thick with something unspoken. "Is this really happening? Are you actually getting married?"
San chuckled, running a hand through his tousled jet-black hair. "Yeah, Eomma. I'm getting married."
The sound that came through the phone was something between a laugh and a sob, and San felt his eyes sting at the edges. He hated making his mother cry, even when they were happy tears. He hated making anyone he loved cry, which was a lesson he learned acutely during a past argument with Amber months ago. The sight of her tear-filled blue eyes, a consequence of his own stupid actions, had profoundly impacted him, making him feel as though his entire world had been destabilized at that moment.
"Oh my gosh, San-ah, I'm so happy for you. My little Sannie has grown up and is getting married. I don't know what to say. I feel like I'm going to cry." His mother expressed joyful her voice edging on happy tears.
"Eomma, please don't cry," San said softly, his voice dropping into that gentle register he used when he wanted to comfort someone he loved. "This is supposed to be happy news."
"You're right, San. It's just—I'm so happy for you, Sweetie. You've really made me a proud Eomma right now." Her voice was tinged with emotion, and San could only visualize her wiping away her tears with the back of her hand, the way she always did when she didn't want anyone to see her getting emotional.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and smiled into the phone.
"She's incredible, Eomma," he said, and the words came out with a reverence that surprised even him. "She's twenty-five just like me, she's from Germany, She teases me constantly, and she has this way of looking at me that makes me feel like I'm the only person in the room even when we're surrounded by people. Overall she's just..." He paused, searching for the right words. "She’s everything to me, Eomma. I love her more than I ever thought possible.” A smile graced San's face as he recalled the previous night when he told Amber the same thing as she nestled comfortably on his lap in bed. He cherished that particular moment, primarily because it allowed him to be entirely candid with her, revealing his vulnerability by confessing the depth of his affection towards her. His mother laughed, a wet, joyful sound. "You sound like your father when he used to talk about me."
San grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"It was meant as one." His mother replied.
There was a brief pause, and then his mother's voice shifted into something more serious, more maternal. "Anyways, San-ah, tell me about her. How did you meet? What is she like? Does she understand your life, your career, everything that comes with being who you are?"
He appreciated that about his mother. She didn't just ask the easy questions. She asked the ones that mattered, the ones that would determine whether this was a fleeting infatuation or something built to last.
I still have yet to talk to her about it but I think she understands," San said, leaning deeper into the chair. "She knew who I was when we met, and she didn't care about any of it. Not the fame, not the money, not the schedules. She cared about me. About San, the person. Not San, the idol." He paused, thinking about the way Amber completely opened herself up to him when they first met backstage, how willingly she accepted his touch and love when he made the first move. "She pushes me when I need pushing. She holds me when I need holding. And she steals strawberries from my fridge when she thinks I'm not looking."
His mother laughed again, brighter this time. "I already love her."
San felt something loosen in his chest, a knot he hadn't realized he'd been carrying. "I want you to meet her properly, Eomma. I want Haneul to meet her too. I think you'll both love her as much as I do."
"You speak as though you already have a plan in mind," San's mother chuckled.
"Actually I do. I intend to bring her to Namhae today and will stay for the weekend, if that is acceptable. I realize it's rather sudden, Eomma, but—"
"No it's quite alright San-ah. Bring her to me," his mother interrupted, her voice firm with the kind of certainty that only mothers possessed. "Bring her here so I can look at her with my own eyes and tell her what a lucky woman she is. And also so I can make sure she's good enough for my son."
San laughed, the sound filling the quiet living room. "She's more than good enough, Eomma. She's way out of my league."
"Don't say that. My son is the most handsome, talented—"
"Eomma," he interrupted, still laughing. "I'm serious. She's beautiful. Blonde hair, blue eyes, tall. She could be a European model. Sometimes I look at her and wonder how I managed to convince her to give me the time of day." San said contently for just describing Amber to his mother made him smile.
"Choi San, you are a catch," his mother said with mock severity. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Especially not yourself."
The warmth in her voice wrapped around him like a blanket, and San felt his shoulders relax for the first time in weeks. This was what he'd needed. Not just to tell her the news, but to hear her voice, to feel her approval, to know that the woman who knew him best in the world could hear the happiness in his voice and believe it.
Then she asked the question he'd been circling around like a planet orbiting too close to the sun.
"Have you two started planning the wedding yet?" she asked.
And there it was.
San chuckled, leaning deeper into the leather chair. "Unfortunately, no, Eomma. I still need to inform her father, which should be pretty straightforward, and then discuss it with Ryan and KQ. That part will likely present its own challenges."
He paused, running his free hand through his messy hair, staring out at the cityscape below. A delivery truck rumbled through an intersection far below, tiny and insignificant from this height. Everything felt small from up here except the things that lived inside his chest.
"My primary concern is that they might reject the entire idea of us ever getting married, either because I am an idol adored by millions of women globally who could potentially become envious of her, or that KQ might attempt to promote her in some way, once we're married."
He shifted in the chair, the leather protesting again. "After working so many years with them, I guess you could say I know how KQ gets about these sorts of things, Eomma, particularly when it pertains to relationships with idols. I just don't want to bring her into the spotlight just yet until I have a talk with her and she fully comprehends the potential change it might make in her life. Just being in the spotlight is a whole sacrifice all on its own, Eomma."
There was a beat of silence before she sighed. Not a tired sigh, not a disappointed one. A knowing sigh. The kind that carried decades of maternal foresight.
"I know, San. You sacrificed a lot to get to where you're at now, and believe me, as a mother, I know how discouraged you used to get when things didn't work out right within your career."
He swallowed. She wasn't wrong. He remembered the nights in the practice room when his body ached and his voice cracked and he wondered if any of it was worth it. The auditions that went nowhere. The comparisons. The quiet, gnawing fear that he wasn't enough.
"However," she continued, her voice taking on that gentle but firm cadence that meant she was about to say something he needed to hear, "who was there to always encourage you and get you back on your feet when you felt discouraged?"
San thought about it. Really thought about it. And then a shy smile formed on his face, the kind that made his eyes crinkle and made him look less like Choi San of Ateez and more like the boy who used to practice vocals in his bedroom with the door closed.
"You, Eomma," he replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Exactly." Her voice settled into something warm and steady, like a hand placed firmly on his shoulder. "It would be beneficial to treat her with the same honesty and openness I extended to you. Be truthful with her and explain the potential challenges and sacrifices she might encounter. Should she accept these conditions, your most commendable course of action would be to become her devoted husband, offering care, guidance, and the necessary encouragement she needs whenever she feels disheartened."
San listened. Really listened. He pressed the phone a little closer to his ear and closed his eyes, letting her words fill the space around him.
"The best advice I can give you right now is to just reassure her that you will remain by her side to support her. This is truly the most profound sentiment you can ever express to a woman—letting her know she is not alone in this journey. By doing so, you will navigate any obstacles together, which is the foundation of a strong and healthy relationship, San."
Something loosened in his chest. A knot he hadn't realized he'd been carrying, pulled apart by his mother's quiet wisdom. He thought about Amber—her blonde hair catching the light, her blue eyes that looked at him like he was just a man and not a phenomenon, the way she laughed at his terrible jokes with her whole body, the way she pressed her hand against her belly when the baby kicked and looked at him with an expression so full of wonder it made his throat tight.
"Gamsahamnida, Eomma. You see, this is precisely why you are such a wonderful mother to me," he expressed, his voice conveying sincere and open appreciation.
"Gamsahamnida, San-ah, but truly, it's not necessary. I just want what's best for you. That is the most wonderful gift you could ever bestow upon me as your mother."
Her voice almost broke on the last few words, and San felt the sting behind his own eyes. He blinked rapidly, staring at the ceiling, willing the moisture away. He was a grown man. A performer. He'd stood in front of thousands without flinching. But his mother's voice cracking would always be his undoing.
"Anyways," she said, recovering with a light clearing of her throat, "with all that being said, when you do start planning, please feel free to let us know. I'm sure your younger sister, Haneul, would absolutely enjoy wedding dress shopping with her..."
There was a brief pause before she added with a laugh, "Including me."
San let out a genuine chuckle, because he could practically hear the excitement in her voice vibrate through the phone. His mother was already mentally arranging floral centerpieces and seating charts. He could picture her at the kitchen table in Namhae, phone in one hand, a notepad appearing from thin air in the other, already writing down venues and caterers and color schemes.
"Of course, Eomma. How could I deny the amazing woman who birthed me of that luxury?"
"San-ah," she scolded, but there was no real heat in it. Not even a spark. "You've always been a flatterer. You're about as bad as your sister."
He chuckled again, louder this time. "So I've heard. Amber keeps telling me that too."
"Well, at least she's honest with you. That's reassuring."
San hummed in agreement, a low sound in his chest.
His mother made a thoughtful sound. "Her father...is he also German?" She inquired with curiosity.
"No, he's actually Russian, but he's stationed in Berlin since he has a military background. Amber speaks to him regularly. She's close with him." San paused, his thumb tracing absent patterns on the armrest. "I want to do it properly. I want to ask for his blessing, the traditional way. Amber deserves that."
"You're a good man, San-ah," his mother said quietly. "I'm very proud of the way you're handling this."
The mention of his mother's pride sent a quiet ripple through San's chest, the kind that never fully went away but had softened over the years into something bearable, something almost warm. He cleared his throat.
"I also wanted to ask you something, Eomma."
"Anything."
San hesitated, choosing his words carefully. He wasn't ready to tell her about the pregnancy yet. Not today. He wanted to let the engagement settle first, to give his family time to absorb the idea of Amber becoming part of their lives before he added another layer of life-altering news on top of it. He wanted them to know Amber first, to love her for who she was, so that when the pregnancy came to light, it would be celebrated rather than scrutinized.
"I want you to help me plan the wedding," he said instead. "I know it might be complicated with how busy my schedule gets, but I want you to be involved. Amber doesn't have her mother anymore, and I want her to feel like she has family on my side. I want her to feel like she belongs with us."
The silence that followed was different from the ones before. It was full, brimming, the kind of silence that held more weight than words ever could.
"San-ah," his mother said, and her voice was thick with emotion again, but steadier this time. "You are the most thoughtful boy. You always think about how other people feel. Yes. Yes, I would be honored to help. And I would be honored to be a mother to Amber. She doesn't need to have lost her own for me to step into that role. I'll be her Eomma too."
San pressed his lips together, blinking hard at the ceiling. The morning light had fully taken over the living room now, golden and warm, and somewhere upstairs, the woman who had changed everything was sleeping peacefully, unaware of the conversation happening below, unaware of the way his mother's words were making his eyes burn.
"Gamsahamnida, Eomma," he managed.
"Don't thank me for loving you," she said. "That's the easiest thing I've ever done."
He laughed, wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand. "You're going to make me cry now."
"Good. Crying means you're alive." She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice had taken on that particular quality that meant she was about to say something important. "San-ah, one more thing."
"What is it?"
"When you bring Amber here, bring her for more than just a visit. Bring her for a meal. Let me cook for her. Let me sit with her and talk to her and get to know the woman who captured my son's heart. And let me tell her, in person, that she is welcome in this family. Not because of who you are, but because of who she is."
San nodded, even though she couldn't see him. "I will, Eomma. I promise."
"Good. Now if you really want to make your fiancée feel special make her breakfast. A woman who said yes to you deserves at least that much."
He laughed, the sound bright and genuine, filling the living room with a warmth that had nothing to do with the morning sun. "Of course, I'll make her something with strawberries so I can watch her steal them."
"Smart girl. I like her already."
San smiled, pressing his phone against his ear as if he could somehow hold his mother closer through the device. "I'll see you soon, Eomma. I love you."
"I love you more, my Sannie. And San-ah?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't keep secrets from her. Whatever you're holding back—and I can hear that you're holding something back—don't keep it for too long. The woman who loves you deserves your honesty, even when it's scary."
San's breath caught. He should have known that even through a phone line, across cities and distance, his mother could hear the things he wasn't saying.
"I won't," he said quietly. "I just... I want to do it right."
"You will." she said, with the kind of certainty that only a mother could have in her child. "I have confidence in you."
After they said their goodbyes, San lowered the phone from his ear, staring at the dark screen for a long moment before setting it on the side table and gazed out at the vast cityscape before him as he acknowledged in his mind that yes he was afraid. He could admit that now, in the quiet of his own living room with no cameras, no members, no manager hovering at the edges.
He was afraid of what the industry would say. What the fans would do—the ones who'd supported him for years, and the ones who'd feel betrayed by something that had nothing to do with them. What KQ would try to leverage, how they'd spin it, what contracts they'd wave in his face. He was afraid of exposing Amber to the industry of his world—the cameras, the comments, the relentless dissection of every moment into content. Every glance turned into a headline. Every outing, choreographed by strangers with telephoto lenses.
She deserved better than that. She deserved quiet mornings and privacy and the freedom to walk down a street in Berlin or Seoul or anywhere without someone recognizing her as San's girlfriend. San's fiancée. San's wife. The thought of her name reduced to a tag beneath his felt wrong in a way that made his jaw tighten.
But his mother was right. He couldn't make that decision for her.
He could only lay it out—every ugly, complicated, beautiful piece of it—and let her choose. And if she chose him, if she chose this life with eyes wide open, then his job wasn't to shield her from the storm. His job was to stand beside her in it.
pure smut - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! explicit content, dirty talk, cussing, teasing, petnames princess, baby, babygirl, Sannie, male and female receiving, makeout, kissing, dom x sub, moaning, groaning, grunting, hissing, begging, whimpering, female crying during sex, overstimulation, creampie, multiple orgasms.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
(This Chapter is based on the song Other Side by Jason Derulo and Pillowtalk by Zayn)
The rain had been coming down in sheets all night, turning the neon glow of Seoul’s skyline into a blur of smudged colors beyond San’s floor-to-ceiling windows. Amber didn’t mind. She was too busy tracing the lines of his chest with her fingertips, her body still humming from the last time he made her come with mind-blowing pleasure, his cock buried inside her while the storm raged outside. The memory of it—his hands gripping her hips, the cold press of his silver rings against her heated skin, the way he’d growled her name like a warning—made her shiver.
San's cock still buried inside her, thick and heavy, the heat of her pussy clenching around him in lazy aftershocks. He could feel every twitch, every flutter, the way her body still trembled underneath his touch, sending an erotic thrill through him. Amber whimpered, her fingers twisting in the sheets as another ripple of pleasure coursed through her. Her blue eyes were glazed, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. She looked wrecked. Perfect.
San shifted her on the bed so she was laying on her back now taking the strain off her legs from being on all fours. “Breathe, princess,” he murmured against her temple, his voice rough like aged whiskey, wrapping around her like a warm blanket as another aftershock rippled through her. His thumb brushed her cheekbone, smearing away the faint sheen of sweat and the tears that had leaked from the corners of her eyes—not from pain, but from the sheer force of her climax. “Good girl. Just like that. Let it last.”
Amber shivered at the praise, her hips twitching involuntarily against his. She could feel him still moving inside her, slow and deliberate, drawing out the last echoes of her orgasm until her thighs trembled with the effort of holding still. But then her gaze flickered downward, and her brow furrowed.
San noticed immediately. He stilled, his cock twitching at the way her lips parted in disappointment. “What’s the matter, baby?”
“It's just… I came before you,” she admitted, her voice small, biting her bottom lip, when she suddenly became hyper-aware of how needy she sounded.
San let out a low chuckle, his hips resuming their slow, teasing thrusts. “And?”
“And I was really looking forward to ending the night with you com...” she paused mid-sentance, her cheeks flushing a darker shade of red with embarrassment, realizing just how desperate she would have really sounded if she told him that she wanted him, coming inside her, filling her up, stretching her open, making her his—but she didn’t have to, because he already knew. San wasn't blind, he knew his best girl, inside and out, just as well as a choreographed routine he mastered before a big performance.
San’s smirk was immediate, sharp, knowing. "You wanted me to fill you up, didn’t you?"
Amber nodded, her breath hitching as he shifted between her legs, pulling out just enough to let the head of his cock drag against her oversensitive walls. “Fuck yes."
San’s grin turned feral. “Then let’s fix that.” He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “If you don’t mind going one more round with me.”
Amber’s laugh was breathless. “Not at all.”
San’s strong, warm, palms, slid up the backs of her legs, spreading her wider, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just above her knees. “Before we start,” he murmured, his voice rough but playful, “I should apologize Princess.”
Amber’s fingers curled into the sheets, the soft fabric, warm from their bodies. His familiar cologne mingled with the musk of his arousal, filled her senses, and she could feel her pulse thrumming between her legs. “For what?” she asked, her voice breathy.
San’s gaze flicked up to meet hers, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. “For holding out on you, tonight.” His hands slid higher, fingertips tracing the curve of her thighs, teasing the edge of where she wanted him the most. “My ex, the one I told you was a sex instructor—well, let's just say she taught me a lot about edging, about controlling my own pleasure to build anticipation.” His thumb brushed the crease where her leg met her hip, making her shiver. “But now, sometimes I do it without realizing it. So with that being said, if there’s ever a time you want me to come, just tell me.” He grinned, slow and wicked. “I’ll be more then happy to oblige. I want you to enjoy having sex with me as much as I enjoy having sex with you. With me It's a giving and receiving sort of thing. Okay princess?" San said brushing her hair back affectionately.
Amber’s breath hitched as San’s lips ghosted over hers,,slow and deliberate, as if he were savoring every moment with her. She valued the way he had just spoken to her, As if her pleasure was something he cherished, as if he were presenting her with a gift, and that thought alone sent a shiver down her spine. Amber smiled at him with sheer admiration as she reached up and caressed his cheek with slow, deliberate appreciation, her thumb tracing the sharp angle of his jaw.
“No apologies needed, Sannie,” she murmured against his lips, her voice soft but sure. “I like it when you take your time with me. Makes me feel like I’m truly something special to you.”
San’s breath Stuttered, his fingers tightening on her waist before sliding up to cradle the back of her neck. His touch was possessive but gentle, like he was memorizing the shape of her. “Fuck, baby… you are,” he breathed before finally pressing his mouth to hers.
His kiss was deep, hungry, his tongue sliding past her lips with slow, deliberate strokes. Amber moaned into it, her nails digging into his broad shoulders as she tilted her head back, giving him better access. She could feel his smile against her lips, the vibration of it sending a jolt straight to her core and, God, was he a damn good kisser—too damn good at that. Every flick of his tongue, every rhythmic press of his lips was calculated to drive her wild.
Amber continued to trace her fingertips up along his sharp jawline, slowly moving them down the sides of his thick neck, and over the hard planes of his chest before resting her warm palms over his pecks eliciting a deep, guttural groan from him. The sound vibrated against her lips, and she swore she could feel it in her bones.
San combed his fingers through her soft blonde hair, the golden strands slipping through his fingers like silk ribbons before tracing down her body, taking one of her round yet fuller breasts—because of the pregnancy—and gave it a light teasing squeeze. The weight of it in his palm was different now, heavier, the nipple darker and more sensitive. Amber arched into his touch with a whimper, her back lifting off the mattress as if begging for more.
He parted from her lips momentarily, his dark eyes burning with hunger as they raked over her pregnant body. His gaze lingered on the way her stomach swelled slightly, the curve of it still new enough to make his chest tighten. He placed his hand gently over her baby bump, his thumb brushing slow circles over the taut skin. For a second, his expression softened—something raw and reverent flickering in his eyes—before hardening again with lust. “Fuck, Amber,” he rasped, his voice rough with need. “You’re fucking stunning, even when you’re pregnant.”
She shivered at the reverence in his voice, her thighs trembling as his fingers trailed lower, tracing the dip of her waist before gripping her hips. His touch was possessive, deliberate, the way it always was—like he was memorizing the shape of her. When he kissed her again, it was slow, deep, his tongue sweeping into her mouth with a groan. Amber moaned against his lips, her nails digging into his shoulders until he pulled away just enough to smirk at her, his eyebrow quirking up in that infuriatingly sexy way he did whenever he was feeling particularly smug about something.
“Now where were we, princess?” he purred, his hands sliding down to grip her hips, his thumbs pressing into the dip of her waist.
Amber didn’t need to say a word. Her body answered for her—hips lifting off the mattress the second San’s hands grasped them, her thighs parting just enough to give him more room. San chuckled, low and dark, the sound vibrating against her skin, finding her eager yet considerate nature sweet and so adorably cute.
“Eager much princess?” He didn’t wait for a response, his hands sliding beneath her ass to lift her, adjusting her until she was flush against his knelt position between her legs on the bed. The head of his cock still nudged inside her entrance, already slick from how many times he’d made her come already, and she whined at the sensation, her fingers clawing at his muscular biceps.
“It’s alright, princess,” he murmured, his voice rough with amusement. “I’ve got plenty of room. Go ahead and relax your legs around me.” He didn’t give her time to overthink it, gripping the backs of her calves and lifting them until they rested over the bent crease of his hips. The new angle made her gasp, her pussy clenching around his tip, desperate to be filled. San’s cock was still just barely inside her, the thick head stretching her open in the most maddening way.
“There,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face with a tenderness that made her chest ache. “That more comfortable?”
Amber nodded, her breath hitching as his fingers trailed down her throat, over the swell of her breasts, before finally—finally snapping his hips forward, driving his cock back into her with a single, deep thrust. She cried out, her back arching off the bed, her nails raking down his shoulders as pleasure rippled through her. San groaned, his grip tightening on her hips as he set a slow, punishing rhythm, each stroke deliberate, each roll of his hips designed to drag the head of his cock against that spot inside her that made her vision blur.
“Fuck—San—” she gasped, her thighs trembling around his waist as he fucked into her, his cock hitting deep, the wet sounds of their bodies slapping together filling the room. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue mimicking the motion of his hips as he swallowed her moans. Amber’s hands flew to his hair, tugging at the jet-black strands as she rocked her hips to meet his.
San’s lips found her throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below her ear. “Please what, princess?” he murmured, his voice a dark purr. “Do you want me to fuck you harder first? Or do you want me to come inside you?”
Amber’s breath hitched. “Both.” She gasped quickly, her nails raking down his back. “I want you to ruin me with both.”
San’s laugh was low, dangerous. “That’s my girl.” He shifted his weight, one hand sliding beneath her ass to tilt her hips up, changing the angle so that every thrust sent his cock grinding against her clit. Amber’s moans turned frantic, her body tightening around him as pleasure coiled low in her belly. She could feel it building again, that familiar pressure, the way her muscles clenched around him as if trying to pull him deeper. San’s mouth crashed against hers, swallowing her cries as he drove into her with a punishing rhythm.
“Tell me you want me to fill you up,” San demanded, his voice ragged, his hips pistoning into her with slow, deliberate strokes. Each thrust dragging against her fraying nerves, her body still sensitive from the aftershocks of her previous climax.
Amber whimpered, her fingers tightening in his jet-black hair as he angled his hips just right again. “Say it.”
“I—I want it, fuck, I want it so bad,” Amber gasped, her body squirming underneath as she arched her back wildly pressing her body against him with need.
“Fuck, Look at you, all needy and desperate for my cum." San grunted, his voice rough with lust as he watched her body squirm underneath him with amusement. His free hand slid up to grip her throat—not enough to cut off her air, but just enough to make her feel his dominance. “Mine,” he growled against her lips with a smirk. “All fucking mine.”
Amber whimpered, her walls fluttering around him at the possessive claim. “Yours,” she gasped. “Only yours.”
San’s smirk deepened at her response. "fuck yeah, that's right babygirl. I know precisely what turns you on.” San said seductively sending a erotic thrill through Amber’s body, his thighs slapping against her ass with each brutal thrust, her back arching off the mattress as she let out a broken moan. His dark eyes locked onto hers, unrelenting and hungry.
"Uh huh...I see you babygirl...You like it when I grip your throat like this with my strong hand, while my cock pounds deep into that sweet little pussy of yours, don't you?" San growled seductively, his voice rough with lust.
"Yes—fuck, yes—I do!" Amber gasped, her breath hitching as his fingers tightened around her throat just for a split second before loosening. The pressure sent a jolt of heat straight to her core, her walls clenching around him instinctively. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think she would enjoy being choked by a man yet here she was, Loving it, and falling apart because of it.
San chuckled darkly, leaning down to capture her lips in a searing kiss. His free hand trailed down her body, fingers finding her clit with practiced precision. He rubbed tight circles over the sensitive bud, just above where he was fucking her, driving her wild. Amber’s head flew back with a sharp cry, her entire body trembling as pleasure coiled tight inside her, however, just as she teetered on the edge, San quickly pulled his fingers away leaving her high and dry.
"Now that's edging princess." San said making a reference to their earlier conversation.
Amber threw her head back, whimpering in frustration; the pout on her face only making her look even more adorable in San's eyes. "Fuck, you're so pretty when you do that," he murmured, his arms bracketing her head as his thrusts grew deeper, slower—more deliberate.
"You take me so well, princess," he grunted, his rhythm stuttering slightly as his own pleasure mounted. "Look at you, taking my cock like such a good girl."
San’s grip tightened on her throat again, not enough to cut off her air but enough to make her focus solely on him, his thumb pressing against her thrumming pulse poin. Amber moaned, wrapping her legs around him like a clingy little koala, pushing him deeper inside her just to tease him and get him back for leaving her so fucking high and dry. His breath hitched, a deep, nasally laugh rumbling in his chest as he groaned, his rhythm faltering. “Fuck, baby., you’re gonna make me come so hard if you keep doing things like that to me."
"Good! that's exactly what I want and now you know how it feels." Amber laughed with a teasing retort, tightening her legs around him even more, her walls clenching around his cock in a way that made him curse under his breath. The sound was rough, strained, and it sent a shiver down her spine. She loved pushing him to the edge, loved watching him lose control just a little.
San lifted her hips ever so slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts just right, making her vision blurred with pleasure as her breath came in ragged gasps, her thighs shaking around him as she struggled to keep up with him. She could feel him swelling inside her, his cock twitching with every thrust, and the thought of him filling her up sent another wave of need crashing over her.
Amber's eyes grew heavy, and she closed them for a brief moment, focusing solely on the blissful sensations that coursed through her body in electrifying shocks as his cock slid in and out of her wet heat at an intoxicating yet punishable rhythm sending her body reeling.
San’s eyes darkened, his grip on her hips tightening to grab her attention. “No, don't you close your eyes, look at me, baby." he Solicited, his voice rough, seeking those captivating blue pools of hers. “I want those pretty blue eyes on me when I come.” San added hotly.
Amber forced her heavy lids open, her breath catching as their gazes locked. There was something so intimate about it, so raw, that it sent another shiver through her.
"Fuck! That's it baby keep those eyes on me-I'm almost there princess!" San grunted as he began pounding into her at a fast, relentless pace, chasing his own impending release. His breath coming out in ragged pants, his body trembling above her, his veins protruding out and snaking up his flexing arms like vines.
"Sannie..." Amber cried out.
"I know baby...I know...I'm almost there." San groaned desperately.
"Fuck..fuck...fuck!" San grunted in time to each of his hard snapping thrusts.
"Holy fuck, baby, you're gonna make me fucking explode...yeah...tell me you want it...tell me you want my cock just shooting up...all this load inside your pussy...filling you up with every last fucking drop...yes..." San said hotly, his words turning to gibberish as pleasure consumed him, his cock pulsing inside her giving him the cue that he was going to come any minute now. San's eyes went dark, his pupils blown wide with pleasure, as he gripped Amber's chin, tilting her face up just enough to keep her blue eyes locked on him.
"yes yes yes...look at me, look at me while I'm fucking coming-FUCK!!” San groaned out long and heavy, his words dissolving into a mixture of pure, blissful, grunts, groans, sharp breaths, and hisses as his orgasm crashed over him, his hips jerking erratically against hers. Amber gasped feeling the first hot pulse of his release, thick and insistent, filling her so completely that it leaked out around the base of his cock with every shallow thrust.
"Oh my fucking god princess...shit...you feel so fucking good...Mmm..." San whimpered, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below her ear. His body shuddered, his weight collapsing onto her in a way that should have been suffocating but instead felt like coming home. Amber wrapped her arms around him, her fingers tracing lazy patterns along his sweat-slicked back. She loved this part—the way he melted into her, the way his breath stuttered with every aftershock, the way his cock twitched inside her like he was still trying to memorize the feel of her.
San whimpered again when she shifted beneath him, her hips rolling in slow, shallow circles. “Ah—fuck, babe, I can’t—” His voice was muffled against her neck, his fingers flexing against her skin as if he wasn’t sure whether to pull her closer or push her away. She could feel the way his body tensed, every nerve ending alight with sensitivity, and she hummed softly, her lips brushing his temple.
“Just relax, baby,” she murmured, her hands sliding down to cup his ass, holding him inside her as she ground against him. “Let me help you.”
His breath hitched, his body jerking as another wave of pleasure crashed over him. “Fuck...I'm so sensitive babe." he whined, his voice cracking, and she couldn’t help the way her heart swelled at the sound. This was her Sannie—the version of him that only she got to see, the one who let himself be soft, who let himself need. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by something raw and vulnerable, and it made her chest tighten with affection. She loved the way his breath came in shaky bursts, the way his body quivered against hers, the way his cock pulsed inside her with every aftershock.
“My poor sweet baby boy Sannie,” she cooed, pressing a kiss to his temple, her fingers running through his damp hair. “You wore yourself out, didn’t you?”
San nodded, his forehead pressing against her chest, his lips brushing the swell of her breasts. “Yeah,” he mumbled, his voice muffled. “Fuck, I’m so tired.”
Amber chuckled, her hands moving to cradle the back of his head, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “Then let me take care of you.”
She could feel the way his body relaxed at her words, his weight settling more fully against her. His cock was still half-hard inside her, and she rocked her hips gently, drawing out the last of his pleasure. San whimpered, his fingers tightening against her skin, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he buried his face against her neck, his breath hot and damp against her skin.
“You’re so good to me, Princess." he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion.
Amber smiled, her hands sliding down to cup his ass, holding him close. “You’re the one who just wrecked me,” she teased, her lips brushing his ear. “I think I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
San let out a breathless laugh, his hips twitching against hers. “Mhm. And you loved every minute of it.”
She didn’t deny it. Instead, she tightened her legs around him, keeping him inside her as she rolled her hips in slow, lazy circles. San groaned, his body shuddering as another aftershock rippled through him. “Fuck, princess,” he whined, his voice breaking. “I can’t—”
“Shh,” she soothed softly before encouraging him, “you’re doing so well, my big strong mountain." She cooed, her hands moving to cradle the back of his neck, tilting his head to the side so she could press a soft kiss to the curve where his shoulder connected to the base of his neck.
San melted into the kiss, his body going limp against hers. His cock twitched inside her, but he didn’t try to move, didn’t try to take control. He just let her hold him, let her rock against him, let her draw out the last of his pleasure until he was nothing but a trembling, boneless heap in her arms. The sound of the rain hitting the glass was both calming yet romantic in the aftermath.
San nuzzled closer to Amber, his body heavy with exhaustion but his mind buzzing with something far more intoxicating than fatigue. Amber’s body was still flushed from their earlier exertions, Her skin slick with a thin sheen of sweat, Her lips were parted in that way that made his chest tighten, Her blonde hair, resembling a golden halo, spread across his pillows, with the strands reflecting the soft glow of the bedside lamp, creating a visual parallel to the color of San's favorite beverage, a lemon drop tequila. She looked thoroughly fucked, and he love the sight of it.
With an affectionate touch San reached out, brushing a stray lock away from her face, his fingers lingering on the curve of her cheek. Her skin was impossibly soft, still warm from the heat of their bodies tangled together. Amber hummed, a contented sound, and turned her head just enough to press a kiss into his palm. The gesture was so simple, so unguarded, that it made his chest tighten. He had spent years surrounded by people—fans, managers, fellow idols, staff—yet none of them had ever looked at him like this. Like he was something precious. Like he was all hers.
He let his hand drift lower, tracing the slope of her shoulder, the dip of her collarbone, the swell of her full pregnant breast. Her nipple was still hard, pebbled from the attention he’d given it earlier, and he couldn’t resist flicking his thumb over it. Amber sharply gasped, her chest quivering, as her back arched slightly, her body responding to his teasing touch, even now, even after she was well spent. He grinned, smug, and leaned down to take the peak into his mouth.
“San, baby,” she breathed, her fingers threading through his jet-black hair. “You’re gonna kill me.”
He chuckled against her skin, the vibration making her shiver. “You can take it, princess." he murmured, kissing his way up her chest, her neck, until his lips found hers. The kiss was slow, deep, a languid exploration that made his pulse quicken all over again. When he pulled back, her gorgeous blue eyes were half-lidded, her pupils blown wide with lingering desire.
“You really have an insatiable sex drive.” she accused, but there was no heat in it. Just affection.
“Only for you,” he admitted, his voice rough. He settled onto his back, pulling her with him until she was sprawled across his chest, her thigh slung over his hips, her head tucked under his chin. Her breasts pressed against him like two perfect, warm pillows, and he sighed, his fingers tracing idle patterns along her spine. “Fuck, I love having you like this.”
Amber hummed again, her breath warm against his skin. “You say that like you’re surprised.”
“I am surprised,” he admitted. “Every damn time.” He tilted his head back, studying her. “You have no idea how rare this is for me.”
She lifted her head, her brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”
San hesitated. He didn’t talk about this—about the loneliness that gnawed at him even when he was surrounded by people, about the way his life had become a series of performances, both on stage and off. But Amber wasn’t just anyone. She was the one person who had ever made him feel like he could just be himself. No masks, no scripts, no carefully curated smiles.
“My life as an Idol...” he started, then stopped, searching for the right words. “It’s a lot. The grueling schedules, the heavy pressure, the relentless expectations. And the worst part is, no one really sees me. Not the way you do, princess.” His fingers stilled on her back. “I’ve got fans screaming my name, but none of them really know me. Not really. And the people who do know me, managers, staff, and the other members—they’re all just…doing their jobs. No one’s ever just here for me you know...at least not like this...not like us.
Amber’s expression softened, her thumb brushing over his jaw. “I’m here,” she said simply.
San’s throat tightened. “I know baby. And that’s…” He swallowed. “That’s everything.”
She smiled, slow and sweet, and leaned down to kiss him again. This time, it wasn’t about desire. It was about connection. About gratitude. About the quiet, unshakable certainty that this—her—was what he’d been missing his whole life.
When she pulled back, her lovely blue eyes were bright. “You’re not alone anymore, Sannie,” she murmured. “Not when you’re with me.”
San’s chest ached. He had spent so long feeling like he was drowning, like he was constantly treading water just to keep his head above the surface. But with Amber, it was like he could finally breathe. Like he could just…float.
“I love you,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could second-guess them. They felt too small, too inadequate, but they were all he had.
Amber’s smile widened, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I love you too,” she whispered, and then she was kissing him again, her lips soft and sure against his.
San let himself sink into it, into her. The rain outside faded into the background, the exhaustion in his bones forgotten. All that mattered was the warmth of her body against his, the taste of her on his tongue, the way her fingers curled into his hair like she never wanted to let go, however, eventually, she had to.
Amber pulled back, her breath coming in little pants. “You’re gonna have to let me get up at some point, Sannie." she said, though her tone was teasing.
"Why?" San said coyly. "I like you here with me." He added.
“I need to pee.” she said plainly even though the cute blush on her face said otherwise.
San groaned, but he let her go, watching as she rolled off the bed and padded toward the bathroom. The sight of her—naked, unashamed, completely at ease in his space—made his dick twitch with interest. He adjusted himself with a smirk, then flopped onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.
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The rain outside had settled into a steady rhythm, tapping against the floor-to-ceiling windows like fingers drumming on glass. San laid sprawled across the bed, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting lazily over his stomach. The city lights beyond the glass painted his skin in shifting hues of gold and midnight blue, making the silver rings on his fingers glint as he shifted. His cock, half-hard already, twitched against his thigh, almost as if it had a mind of its own, already recognizing and responding to the sound of Amber, when the bathroom door creaked open.
Amber stepped out, her bare feet padding against the black marble floor. Her fair european skin, already glowing under the dim light from the adjacent bathroom as if she were an angel coming down from heaven. She didn’t bother covering herself—she never did here. The way San’s gaze raked over her, slow and appreciative, made her skin prickle with warmth. His eyes lingered on the curve of her belly, the fullness of her breasts, the way her thighs pressed together as she walked. She liked the way he looked at her, like she was something precious, something his. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.
"God damn, princess! I swear I think I just died and went to heaven the moment you strolled in here like that. You really know how to make a Man want you." San declared, making her beam with joy as a warm blush danced across her cheeks.
After seeing her beautiful reaction San’s lips curled into a smirk as she approached. “Come here, baby,” he murmured, his voice rough with the kind of lazy satisfaction that made her stomach flip. He held his hand out to her, and she didn’t hesitate, taking it and letting him guide her onto the bed. The sheets were still warm from their last round, the scent of sex lingering in the air.
She crawled toward him, the bed dipping under her pregnant weight, her tits swaying with the movement. His fingers found her hips, guiding her until she was straddling him, her knees bracketing his thighs. He could feel the heat of her pussy against his stomach, already damp again.
“Did you enjoy your little bathroom adventure?” he teased, his thumbs tracing idle circles over her hipbones.
Amber laughed, the sound breathless and embarrassed. “San, oh my god—why would you ask that?”
He caught her wrist when she swatted at his chest, pulling her down until her breasts pressed against him. His skin was hot, almost feverish, and she could feel the steady thump of his heartbeat against her ribs.
“Uh huh,” he hummed, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Blame it on me when really, I know you’re one of those girls who has to pee after having sex.”
She groaned, burying her face in his neck. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet, here you are princess.” His fingers trailed down her sides, his cold silver rings scraping lightly over her heated skin there. She shivered, her hips rolling involuntarily against his. His cock twitched between them, hardening further.
Amber lifted her head, catching his smirk. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love it.” He cupped the back of her neck, pulling her into a slow, deep kiss. His tongue slid against hers, lazy and thorough, like he had all the time in the world. She melted into him, her hands sliding up his chest to tangle in his hair. The cold metal of his rings brushed against her skin as his hands roamed, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“Ride me,” he murmured against her lips, the words sending a jolt of heat straight to her core.
Amber didn’t need to be told twice. She pushed herself up, her thighs trembling as she reached between them to wrap her fingers around his cock. He was thick, the veins prominent under her palm, and she bit her lip as she guided him to her entrance. The first press of his tip against her made her breath hitch—she was still so sensitive from earlier, still swollen and aching in the best way.
She sank down slowly, taking him inch by inch, her body stretching to accommodate him. The stretch was delicious, bordering on too much, but she loved it. Loved the way his breath hitched when she bottomed out, the way his fingers dug into her hips, like he was trying to hold himself back.
“Fuck, babe,” he breathed, his voice rough. “You take me so well.”
Amber rolled her hips experimentally, gasping as the movement sent sparks of pleasure shooting up her spine. She braced her hands on his chest, her nails digging into his skin as she started to move in earnest. The angle was perfect, his cock dragging against her walls in a mind-blowing grind until she gasped when his tip hit that spot inside her with every downward stroke.
“Oh god—yes-right there.” she gasped.
San’s smirk turned wicked. “Yeah, I know baby? You like that, don't you?”
She nodded, her nails digging into his chest as she rode him, her movements slow and deliberate at first, then faster, more desperate. She could feel herself getting wetter, her arousal slicking the way as she rode him.
San’s hands slid up her body, cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. They were already hard, aching for his touch, and she arched into his palms with a whimper. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice thick with approval. “Just like that.”
She picked up the pace, her thighs burning as she bounced on his lap. The sound of their bodies coming together filled the room—wet, obscene, perfect. San’s breath hitched as she angled her hips just right, his cock hitting that spot deep inside her that made her vision blur. She could feel her orgasm building, coiling tight in her belly, and she chased it with every roll of her hips.
“San,” she gasped, her voice breaking. “I’m—fuck, I’m close.”
“Let me see you come,” he growled, his hands moving to her hips to guide her. He lifted his own hips, meeting her thrusts with sharp, upward snaps of his pelvis. The new angle made her throw her head back as she cried out, her back arching as pleasure crashed over her. Her walls clenched around him, milking his cock as she came, her body trembling with the force of it.
San groaned, his fingers digging into her skin hard enough to leave marks. “Fuck, Amber—” His voice was strained, his hips stuttering as he chased his own release. She could feel him swelling inside her, his cock twitching as he spilled deep inside her with a guttural groan.
Amber collapsed onto his chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close as their hearts pounded in sync. The rain outside had picked up again, the sound of it against the windows a soothing backdrop to their heavy breathing.
San pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering. “God, you’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice soft with affection.
Amber hummed, nuzzling into his neck. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through her. “Not so bad? That’s the best you’ve got?”
She laughed, lifting her head to grin at him. “What do you want me to say? That you ruined me for all other men?”
His eyes darkened, his grip on her tightening possessively. “That’s more like it.”
Amber rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her smile. She shifted, hissing as his cock slipped out of her, a rush of warmth following. San’s come dripped down her thighs, and she bit her lip, suddenly hyper-aware of how full she felt.
San noticed, of course. He always did. His fingers traced idle patterns on her back, his touch light and teasing. “You’re leaking,” he murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction.
Amber groaned, burying her face in his chest again. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” he said, echoing his earlier words, “here you are again princess.”
She couldn’t argue with that.
Before Amber knew it San rolled her off his lap so she was laying on her back, propping himself up on his elbow beside her, letting his warm cock press hotly against her body as he held her close in his arms. Amber admired the way his skin was slick with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead, and she couldn’t help but smile. He looked wrecked. And it was all because of her.
"What's with that beautiful smile of yours?" San asked with a low and breathless chuckle as he affectionately brushed his fingers through her soft blonde hair.
"Nothing just admiring how wrecked my future husband looks." Amber said, her voice tinged with teasing sarcasm.
“Fuck, baby, you always know the right things to say that always drives me crazy and keeps me coming back to you." he whispered hoarsely, before kissing her deeply, his tongue sweeping into her mouth as if claiming her all over again. Amber melted into him, her hands sliding up to tangle in his jet black hair. When he finally pulled back, his lips were swollen, his eyes dark with satisfaction.
"Holy fuck princess what we did tonight felt so fucking good. No woman has ever made me come that hard before after multiple rounds." San said with sheer amazement in his voice, making Amber laugh.
"Well I'm glad I was able to satisfy you well baby." Amber remarked, gently toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.
"God, if my nights keep ending like this with you then I can't wait to marry you princess." San said holding her closer to him as he caressed her flushed cheek his thumb lightly ghosting over her cheekbone.
Amber smiled, her eyes filled with tremendous joy, as she glanced at her engagement ring, admiring the beautiful sapphire, as it shimmered in the soft candlelight that surrounded them. San breathlessly chuckled before gently taking her hand, placing a tender kiss on her knuckle near the ring, which brought a warm smile to Amber's face, her soft blue eyes crinkling with pure happiness and contentment.
"You’re everything to me, you know that.” he murmured against her mouth. “My heart, my home, my everything.” Amber smiled, her fingers tracing the line of his chiseled jaw as if it was sculpted by the gods themselves.
“And you’re mine too” she whispered with a warm smile.
Amber’s heart swelled, her fingers tightening in his hair. She could feel the weight of his words, the truth in them, and it made her eyes burn with unshed tears. She blinked them back, refusing to let them fall, not when he was looking at her like that—not when the world felt so perfect, so right.
San’s hand slid from her face, his fingers trailing down her arm before settling over her stomach, rubbing her growing baby bump with delicate care. His touch was warm, soothing, and Amber found herself melting into it...into him. She found herself content in his embrace, enveloped by his scent and the soothing resonance of his voice, a sensation that nearly lulled her to sleep and prompted a yawn.
“Clearly my princess is tired.” he murmured with a exhausted chuckle, his thumb drawing slow, lazy circles over her baby bump.
Amber wanted to protest, to tell him she wasn’t, that she could stay awake forever if it meant staying like this with him. But the truth was, she was tired. The day had been long—beautiful, but long—and her body ached in the best way, the kind of exhaustion that came from being loved thoroughly, completely.
She yawned again, her eyelids growing heavy, and San chuckled, the sound vibrating against her cheek. "So cute" San whispered under his breath before placing a light kiss to her nose watching how it adorably crinkled. "Sleep now princess. You deserve your beauty rest after today."
Amber didn’t fight it. Instead, she nuzzled closer to him, her head pillowed on his bare chest, her hand resting over his where it cradled their unborn child. She could hear the steady beat of his heart, the slow, even rhythm of his breathing, and it lulled her, pulling her under like a gentle tide.
The last thing she remembered was the press of San's lips to her temple, and his soothing voice saying "saranghae" to her.
And then, darkness.
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San watched her for a long time after she fell asleep making sure that her nightmares didn't come back to haunt her.
The room was quiet except for the sound of the rain outside and the soft, even rhythm of her breathing which made the ambiance of the bedroom relaxing and perfect for San to sleep. He traced the line of her jaw with his gaze, the way her beautiful lashes cast shadows on her cheeks, the slight part of her lips as she slept. She was beautiful like this—peaceful, unguarded. Completely His.
His hand still rested over her baby bump, protective and possessive, and he marveled at the way she fit against him, as if she’d been made for this, for him. The thought made his chest tighten, his throat thick with emotion.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment before settling back against the pillows. His free arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer, as if he could somehow merge the space between them entirely. He wanted to memorize this—the warmth of her skin, the scent of roses and something uniquely Amber that clung to the air, the way her fingers twitched slightly in her sleep, as if reaching for him even then.
He should sleep. He knew that. But he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes, not when she was here, not when every second with her felt like a gift he had to cherish with each moment he got.
His thumb brushed over the ring on her finger, the sapphire catching the faint light from the candles. He remembered how he slipped it onto her finger just hours ago, the way her eyes had widened, the way her breath had caught. He remembered the way she’d looked at him, as if he’d hung the stars just for her.
And maybe, in a way, he had.
San exhaled slowly, his fingers tangling with hers, their hands resting over the life they’d created together. He thought about the future—the way she’d look holding their child for the first time, the way her laughter would fill their home, the way they’d grow old together, still stealing kisses in the kitchen, still finding excuses to touch.
He thought about the way she’d looked at him tonight, her blue eyes dark with desire but soft with something deeper, something that made his heart ache in the best way.
"And you’re mine too." He remembered her saying.
And he was. Completely. Irrevocably.
San pressed another kiss to her temple, his lips lingering against her skin. “Always,” he whispered, though she couldn’t hear him.
Then, finally, he let himself drift, his last thought a promise, a vow, a prayer.
pure smut - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! explicit content, dirty talk, cussing, teasing, petnames princess, baby, babygirl, Sannie, honey, male and female receiving, makeout, kissing, licking, fingering, clit play, breast play, dom x sub, fingering, multiple squirting, moaning, groaning, grunting, hissing, begging, whimpering, female crying during sex, overstimulation, creampie, multiple orgasms.
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(This Chapter is based on the song Want To Want Me Jason Derulo and OMG by Usher)
By now the world outside their bedroom window didn’t even exist. The city lights blurred into streaks of gold and midnight blue, irrelevant against the heat radiating between them, as San settled on top of her. His hands were everywhere, mapping the new curves of her body with reverence, his calloused fingertips tracing the swell of her breasts, now fuller, heavier with pregnancy. She’d never felt more beautiful than she did under his gaze, the way his pupils blew wide when she arched into his touch, the way his breath hitched when she bit her lip, Every movement built the tension between them, slow and deliberate, turning the penthouse into a world of sensation and connection.
“Fuck, you’re stunning,” San groaned, his voice rough, his Korean accent thickening with desire. His thumbs brushed over her nipples through the thin lace fabric of her bra, and she gasped, her back bowing. “God, I love these” He palmed her breast, squeezing just enough to make her whimper. “I could worship them for hours.” Amber laughed breathlessly, rocking her hips against his growing hardness beneath her. “You say that like it’s a hardship.” Amber quipped sarcastically.
San’s chuckle was dark, possessive. “Oh, it’s hard work, babygirl." San replied with equal sarcasm. "But the best kind.” he added. His hands slid down to grip her hips, guiding her in slow, teasing circles over his cock. The friction was maddening, the fabric of his pants rough against the sensitive flesh between her legs. She could feel how wet she was, the damp heat seeping through her panties, and the knowledge that he could feel it too, that he knew exactly what he was doing to her, sent a fresh wave of arousal crashing through her.
“San,” she breathed, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Please.”
He smirked, that infuriating, knowing smirk that made her want to both kiss him and strangle him at the same time. “Please what Prinzessin?” San said, making Amber smile, for he used a German endearment that she taught him back in Germany. A blush began to spread across Amber's face, prompting her to avert her gaze. However, San gently guided her face back to meet his eyes, his fingers brushing gently along her jawline. He needed her eye contact if he wanted the night to go the way he imagined. "Use your words, babygirl. Tell me what you need."
Amber’s skin burned where his breath ghosted over her stomach, her baby bump rounding softly beneath his lips. She tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan. “I need you. Skin on skin. No more teasing.”
San’s response was a growl, low and feral, as he yanked her bra off in one swift motion. The cool air hit her sensitive nipples, but the heat of his gaze was enough to keep her warm. His hands found her breasts again, this time with nothing between them, and he groaned at the weight of them in his palms. “Fuck, look at you,” he murmured, his thumbs flicking over her nipples until they pebbled. “So fucking perfect.”
Amber’s breath hitched as he dipped his head, his tongue swirling around one taut peak before he sucked it into his mouth. The sensation shot straight to her core, her hips jerking forward instinctively. San chuckled against her skin, the vibration making her shudder. “Eager, huh?”
“San,” she whined, her fingers tightening in his hair. “I swear to god—”
He cut her off with a sharp nip to her nipple, soothing the sting with his tongue. “I love it when you get all fucking bossy,” he murmured, switching to her other breast. “But we’re doing this my way tonight.”
Amber would’ve argued, but then his hand slid down, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of her panties, and all coherent thought dissolved. He didn’t even have to touch her—just the promise of it had her dripping, her thighs trembling. “God you’re soaked,” he groaned, his fingers finally making contact, sliding through her folds with ease. “Fuck, princess, you’re basically dripping for me.”
She couldn’t form words, could only gasp as he circled her clit, his touch feather-light, maddening. Her hips bucked, chasing his fingers, but he pulled back with a dark laugh. “Patience princess.”
"Fuck patience,"' Amber snapped, her voice trembling. Before he could react, she was off the bed, her fingers curling into a beckoning motion. "Sit. Edge. Now."
San's eyebrows rose, a faint smirk playing on his lips. With a sense of intrigue, he did as she commanded, moving to the edge of the bed until he was seated before her. His gaze was keen with curiosity, and his broad shoulders relaxed as he leaned back on his arms, his legs spread just enough to reveal the straining bulge in his pants.
Amber was totally drawn in, she'd never met a guy like San before, so attractive and alluring, just sitting there like that. He looked so inviting, leaning back on his arms, practically begging her to take charge.
"Show me what you got, princess. Let me see all the dirty things you been wanting to do to me all fucking day." San said, his voice low and raspy with that sexy timbre she knew all too well.
Amber nodded, crouching between his legs with a predatory grace, like a cat stalking her prey. Her mouth watered at the sight of his erection pressing hard against his pants, the fabric doing little to hide how thick and long he was. She leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the bulge, feeling the heat of him even through the cloth.
San reached out, brushing her blonde hair back affectionately, his fingers lingering on her cheek. He loved the way she looked up at him—how her blue eyes stayed locked onto his as she moved closer to his bulge, how she always made sure he knew just how much she appreciated this side of their dynamic. He let out a pleased hum as the warmth of her lips moved gently over his clothed erection, his pulse quickening with every teasing press of her mouth.
San’s breath hitched when Amber’s fingers found the buckle of his pants. She fumbled for a second, her movements hurried but controlled, and when it came undone with a metallic clink, the sound sent a jolt of satisfaction through her. She didn’t wait for permission—she never did with him since she knew he liked it that way. Her hand dove into his boxers, wrapping around his thick, heavy length, and the groan that tore from his throat, once she pulled him out from the straining confines of his pants, was music to her ears.
“Shit, Amber,” he gasped, his hips jerking into her grip. His cock twitched against her palm, already slick with pre-cum, and she tightened her fingers around him, stroking slow at first, savoring the way his breath hitched, the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch.
His hands fell away from her, his head tilting back as she worked him, tightening her grip, her thumb swiping over the slick bead of pre-cum at his tip. “Does my big, strong, Sannie like it when I touch him like this?” she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction as he whimpered, his hips stuttering upward.
“Fuck yes, babygirl,” he groaned, his voice strained. His fingers dug into the edge of the sheets, his thighs trembling as she brushed her thumb teasingly over his tip. “Don’t stop, princess. Please…”
Amber smirked, picking up the pace, her grip firm as she worked him from base to tip. She loved this—the way he fell apart for her, the way his control unraveled with every stroke. His whimpers were music to her ears, the way his body quivered, the way his cock pulsed in her hand.
“You’re so close, aren’t you, Sannie? Been so pent up during your photoshoot that you were just dying for me to come home tonight, right?” she teased.
San’s breath hitched, his hips jerking upward involuntarily. “Fuck, Amber, you’re gonna kill me,” he groaned, his voice rough with need.
She grinned, her grip never wavering as she leaned forward, her tongue flicking out to catch the bead of pre-cum glistening at his tip. The salty taste burst on her tongue, and she moaned softly, her free hand cupping his heavy balls, rolling them gently in her palm just how he liked it.
“Princess,” San gasped, his hips bucking up into her touch. “Fuck, your mouth feels so good—”
Amber moaned sensually just for San's pleasure, wrapping her lips around the head of his cock, her tongue swirling around the sensitive underside before taking him deeper, inch by inch. Her throat fluttered around him, and he let out a broken sound, his fingers tangling in her blonde hair, not pushing, just holding on for dear life.
“Shit, Amber, fuck-What a good girl you are, you're so perfect for me-mmm—” His voice was raw, his body trembling as she hollowed her cheeks, sucking him hard. She pulled back just enough to speak to him.
"I know baby, I please my man so well don't I?" Amber asked seductively and San nodded “fuck yes you do princess.” San replied with a groan as she teased the tip with her tongue before taking him deep again, her hand still stroking the base in time with her movements.
San’s head fell back, his hips stuttering upward as she worked him over, her other hand sliding up to grip his thigh, her nails digging in just enough to make him groan. “Fuck, babygirl, you’re gonna make me come too fast,” he gritted out, his voice strained.
Amber pulled back just enough to smirk up at him, her lips glistening with spit and pre-cum. “Good,” she purred. “I want you too.”
She dove back down, her mouth working him with a fervor that had his thighs shaking, his cock twitching in her grip. San’s breath came in ragged gasps, his fingers tightening in her hair as she took him deeper, her throat working around him. The sounds he made—broken, desperate, needy—drove her wild. One thing Amber could say is that she loved her man loud like this, she loved the way he lost control for her, the way he gave himself over to her completely.
“Amber, fuck—I’m gonna—” His warning came too late. With a guttural groan, his hips jerked upward, his cock pulsing as hot ropes of cum shot down her throat. She swallowed him down greedily, her grip never slowing as she milked him through his orgasm, her tongue lapping at the sensitive head until he was spent and twitching.
When she finally pulled back, his cock glistened with spit and cum, and she licked her lips, savoring the taste. San was a trembling mess beneath her, his chest heaving, his eyes dark with pleasure.
“Fuck, babygirl,” he panted, his voice wrecked. “That was—”
She cut him off with a smirk, crawling up his body until she was straddling his lap, her wet pussy pressing against his softened cock. “I know,” she whispered, her lips brushing his as she rocked against him, her clit grinding against his shaft. “Now it’s your turn to worship me.”
San’s eyes darkened with hunger, his hands gripping her hips as he flipped her onto her back, pinning her beneath him. “Oh, I’m gonna worship every inch of you,” he growled, his voice rough with promise.
And he did.
Amber barely had time to process the words before he was moving, pushing her back onto the bed with a strength that made her pulse spike. He hovered over her, his golden chain glinting in the candlelight, his dark eyes burning with hunger. “Let me show you what being my future wife is all about.” he said hotly, his hands sliding up her thighs, pushing them apart.
Amber’s fingers clenched in the sheets, her breath hitching as San’s mouth left a scorching trail down her stomach, his lips pressing against the swell of her baby bump, being especially gentle there before dipping lower. The warmth of his breath against her skin sent shivers down her spine, her body already thrumming with anticipation. She could feel his smirk against her thigh as he hooked her legs over his shoulders, his strong hands gripping her hips to keep her steady. The first swipe of his tongue was slow, deliberate—teasing the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs before finally, dragging his tongue up to circle her clit. Amber gasped, her back arching off the bed as pleasure jolted through her. She tangled her fingers in his jet black hair, her hips lifting instinctively, chasing the heat of his mouth.
San chuckled, the vibration making her whimper. “Greedy girl,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over her wetness before his tongue swirled again, this time with more pressure. Amber’s thighs trembled, her breath coming in ragged gasps as he sucked her clit between his lips, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. The pleasure was too much, her body coiling tight, her muscles tensing as his fingers teased her entrance, circling but never quite pushing in. She could feel herself dripping, her arousal slick and obscene, the sound of it filling the bedroom as he worked her over.
“San, baby, please, I need more.” she begged, her voice breaking.
Amber’s breath hitched as San pulled back, his fingers slick with her arousal, glistening in the soft light flickering from the candles around them. She let out a frustrated whine, her hips twitching, desperate for more. Her European blue eyes—those damn eyes he could never get enough of—were glazed with need, her lips parted as she panted. San’s gaze was dark, hungry, like a man who had just thought of a new way to worship her and couldn’t wait to begin.
“Come with me,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire as he helped her sit up, his hands gentle but firm as he guided her off the bed. “I’ve got something new in mind I want to try with you.”
"Like what?" Amber asked, her face puzzled.
"It's a new position I want to try with you. I only did it once but I think you'll enjoy it." San said, his tone was comforting, as if he was keeping her own interest at heart.
Amber nodded yet still kept a raised eyebrow, her curiosity piqued, but the way her body still throbbed from his touch made her willing to follow him anywhere. He led her to the foot of the bed, then squatted down in front of her, his hands sliding up her thighs. “Crouch down for me, baby.”
Her eyes went wide. “San, if I do that, my legs will—”
“Precisely,” he interrupted, his thumb tracing slow circles on the inside of her knee. “Trust me. I promise it’ll feel really good.”
Amber hesitated, but only for a second. She knew San would never push her into something she wasn’t comfortable with, and the way he looked at her—like she was the only woman in the world he wanted to do this with—made her want to give him anything. With a weary sigh, she lowered herself down until she was perched on her ankles, her thighs spreading wide. San shifted closer beside her, one arm wrapping around her back to lean her against the bed behind her, taking the strain off her ankles.
"You're not in any discomfort, are you?" he inquired, gently caressing her cheek.
Amber shook her head, her pulse racing. “No. Not since you leaned me back.”
“Do you trust me?” San asked his thumb tracing slow circles on the inside of her thigh.
Amber didn’t Answer at first instead she spread her legs wider, momentarily catching him off guard for a moment. However, that astonishment swiftly morphed into a slow, confident smirk that sent a shiver of excitement through her—he was clearly enjoying the playful tension between them. Without hesitation, she gave him a nod, completely prepared to place her faith in him, for deep down, she knew she could trust him with anything.
“Good,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “Because I want to watch you fall apart.”
Amber’s breath stuttered as San’s hands slid up her inner thighs, his thumbs brushing dangerously close to where she ached the most. She was already so wet, her heated core throbbing from the teasing he’d given her earlier, and now, spread open like this, she felt exposed in the best possible way. The cool air kissed her slick folds, making her shiver.
San groaned, his eyes locked on the glistening mess between her legs. “Fuck, look at you,” he rasped, his fingers finally making contact, dragging through her wetness. “You’re dripping so beautifully for me babygirl.”
Amber let out a strangled fuck, her head falling back against the bed as his fingers explored her, slow and deliberate. He traced her entrance, then circled her clit, his touch feather-light at first, then firmer, until her hips jerked forward, chasing his touch.
“San—please—” she gasped, her fingers clawing at the plush bedsheets behind her.
"Shhh...I've got you princess." he whispered, his warm breath caressing her neck as his free hand gently brushed her flushed cheek, into which she leaned, appreciating the comforting touch.
San added a second finger, curling them just right, pressing against that spot that made her see stars. Amber cried out, her back arching as pleasure shot through her. Her thighs trembled, her muscles clenching around his fingers as he fucked her with them, slow and deep, then fast and shallow, keeping her on the edge.
“That’s it,” San growled, his free hand sliding down from her cheek to palm her breast, his thumb flicking over her nipple. “Take what you need, beautiful.”
The sight of his hand working between her legs, his fingers disappearing inside her, was intoxicating. Amber whimpered, her hips rolling in time with his fingers. She could hear how wet she was, the obscene sounds of his fingers moving in and out of her, and it only turned her on more. San groaned, as he could feel the blood rush to his cock as he watched her, his eyes dark with lust.
“You like that, don’t you princess?” he murmured, his voice rough. “You like hearing how fucking wet you are for me.”
Amber nodded, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. “Yes—fuck—yes, I love it—mmm”
San’s fingers picked up speed, his thumb pressing down on her clit, and Amber’s vision blurred. She could feel it building, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening low in her belly. Her thighs shook, her muscles tensing as she teetered on the edge.
“Come for me, let me see you squirt, baby.” San demanded, his voice a low growl as trickles of her own juices began to escape pass his fingers onto the floor like rain hitting pavement outside. At that moment he knew she was about to let loose and it made him smile just knowing that he was the only man who could push her close to the edge like this. Just her alone, gave him a sense of confidence and pride.
Amber’s mouth dropped open in a silent scream as her orgasm crashed over her. Her pussy clenching around his fingers as she came, her release gushing out of her like a waterfall. San didn’t stop, his fingers still working her, drawing out every last tremor, every aftershock, until she was a boneless, panting mess.
“Holy fuck San!” she gasped, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.
San chuckled, pressing a kiss to her neck before whispering in her ear. “That’s one.”
Amber’s eyes flew open. “One?”
He grinned, teasing and promising. “Oh, baby, we’re just getting started.”
San didn’t give her time to recover. He pumped his fingers at a relentless pace inside her again, curling his fingers just right, pressing his palm flat against her clit, and fuck—the sound she made was almost inhuman, a broken, keening wail as her body gave in, her release crashing over her for a second time like a wave. Her thighs locked around his hand, her core pulsing, gushing, a hot rush of fluid spilling over his fingers, down his wrist, splattering onto the black marble floor between her spread legs.
"Ah fuck-yes baby-look at you-so beautiful." San groaned, his cock aching as he watched her Squirt, her head thrown back again, her mouth open in a silent scream, her eyes rolled so far back he could barely see the blue. San's fingers fucked her through the aftershocks again until she came back down from cloud 9 for a second time.
“good girl,” San praised, his voice rough with arousal as her head eventually came back up. Her blue eyes meeting his gaze. “Just one more, baby. I know you can do it.”
Amber was breathless, her skin slick with sweat, her blonde hair sticking to her forehead. She nodded weakly, her arm draped over San’s shoulder for support as he pumped his fingers inside her again, hitting her sweet spot with expert precision, now that he knew exactly where it was. In no time she was close again, San could feel it just by the way her walls clenched around his fingers.
"Oh fuck San!" Amber whined.
“Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”
And then she did.
A shuddering cry tore from her throat as another orgasm ripped through her for a third time, her sensitive core pulsing violently around his fingers as she gushed onto his hand, her juices dripping down his wrist and onto the floor again in thick, messy streams. San groaned, watching the way her body convulsed, her thighs shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.
“Fuck, that’s beautiful.” he breathed, his voice thick with lust as he slowed his movements, drawing out every last shudder from her trembling body. Amber was a mess—her blonde hair a wild tangle, sticking to her sweat slick face, the same way San would get after an intense performance on stage. her lips were parted in a silent moan and her chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath. Amber's body shivered, watching the way San’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. She knew that look. Knew the way his breath hitched when he was trying to hold himself back, she could obviously tell he was turned on by just the sight of her squirting, which sent a whole new thrill down to her heated core, feeling proud of herself, that she could arouse him in such a way.
When she finally sagged back against the bed behind her, her legs still trembling, San withdrew his fingers with a wet pop, bringing them to his lips to taste her. His eyes rolled back slightly at the flavor, his cock aching in the open air.
“You taste so good, princess.” he murmured, licking his lips clean before leaning down to press a slow, deep kiss to her mouth. Amber moaned into the kiss, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair as she kissed him back just as hungrily.
San pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “You’re incredible,” he told her, his voice soft but full of raw admiration. “I love the way you let go when you're with me. It makes me so proud knowing I can take you to cloud 9.”
Amber’s chest tightened at the words, her heart swelling with emotion. She knew he meant it—every word. San had a way of making her feel not just desired, but cherished.
Amber's legs were trembling beneath her, nearly giving way, until San swiftly moved forward and caught her, his hand supporting her back.
"Obviously my legs are a bowl of ramen noodles right now," she joked, voice still breathy.
San laughed, low and rough, the sound vibrating through his chest. He was still half-hard, his cock glistening between his thighs, and the way he looked at her—like she was something he wanted to devour over and over again—made her stomach flip. "God, you’re so cute," he murmured, reaching down to brush a strand of hair from her sweaty forehead. His fingers lingered, tracing the curve of her cheek before sliding down to her throat, thumb pressing just enough to make her pulse jump.
Amber shivered. She loved this part—the after, when the urgency had burned itself out but the want was still there, simmering under her skin. San’s touch was always like that, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing her all over again.
"Here, let me help you with that, princess," he said, and before she could protest, his strong arms were sliding under her, lifting her effortlessly against his bare chest. The heat of his skin seared into hers, his muscles flexing as he adjusted his grip. Amber’s breath hitched, her fingers instinctively curling into the hard planes of his shoulders. He held her in his arms like she weighed nothing, like she was something fragile, and the way he looked down at her—fuck, it made her feral. His jaw was firm, his jet-black hair gently disheveled across his forehead, and his eyes held a dark, possessive glare, as if she belonged entirely to him.
Just that look from him alone made Amber’s pussy throb for she had never before witnessed San exude such pride, attractiveness, and masculinity all wrapped into one until now. He was most definitely her strong and supportive mountain, precisely as his Korean name implied.
She nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of him—salt and skin and the faintest trace of his pheromone cologne that made her weak ever since she caught the first whiff of it when she came home. "You’re such a show-off," she murmured, nipping at his earlobe just to hear the way his breath hitched.
"Only for you, princess." he said, voice rough, and the way he said it—like she was the only one who got to see this side of him, it made her pussy clench around nothing. Amber’s thighs were already sticky by the time San began carrying her, bridal style, across the vast black marble floor of his bedroom.
Upon reaching the edge of the bed, Amber's arms gently released their hold from around his neck, his strong hand tenderly supporting her back, as he carefully lowered her down onto the soft, white sheets, as if she were his most cherished yet delicate possession. The rose petals that San had meticulously shaped into a romantic heart earlier, were now scattered all over the bed from their previous tangle of foreplay.
The white fluffy bedsheets, that smelled so familiarly like San, were cool against her overheated skin, but it did nothing to ease the ache between her legs. She was already wet, her pussy swollen and throbbing, the slickness between her thighs making her shift restlessly on the bed like a cat in heat. The way her clit throbbed with every heartbeat was enough to make her whimper.
San didn’t say a word. He just stood there at the foot of the bed, his dark eyes locked onto her as he wrapped his fist around his cock and gave himself a few slow, deliberate pumps. Amber’s breath hitched, her fingers curling into the sheets as she watched the thick vein along the underside of his cock pulse under his grip. The tip was already glistening, a bead of pre-cum welling up as he worked himself, his other hand braced against the bedframe for balance.
“Fuck,” she breathed, her voice cracking. Her legs falling open without her even realizing it, her body reacting to him on instinct. She didn’t need to look down to know how wet she was—she could feel it, the way her arousal was already leaking out of her, the way her thighs were slick with it.
San’s lips curled into a smirk, his gaze dropping to where she was spread open for him. “You like watching me, Jagiya?” His voice was rough, the Korean endearment slipping out completely, unmasked and unfiltered, indicating that he was really turned on by her. Amber’s stomach flipped at the sound of it tinged with his smooth Korean accent, her pussy clenching in response.
“Yes, liebling." She admitted, her voice barely above a whisper as she returned his response with a German endearment. She licked her lips, her eyes flicking back up to his face. “I love it when you touch yourself Sannie. Makes me so fucking wet.”
San emitted a soft, groaning laugh, his fist tightening around his cock as he gave himself a few more slow strokes. “yes, I can see that princess. You’re already dripping for me.” he murmured, his eyes dark with hunger as they gaze intently on her dripping heat. “Look at you, all spread out for me. You want my cock so bad, don't you baby?”
Amber whimpered, her hips lifting off the bed in invitation. “Please,” she begged, her voice breaking. “I need you baby. Now.”
San didn’t make her wait. He stepped closer, the mattress dipping under his weight as he teasingly tapped her clit with the head of his cock. Just once. Just enough to make her body jolt, her back arching off the bed as a sharp gasp tore from her throat. His lips curving into a cocky smirk, as one thing was undeniably true: he sure fucking enjoyed teasing his best girl.
San laughed, low and dark, watching the way her hips twitched, desperate for more. “Does my princess like it when I tease her clit with my cock?” he asked, his voice tinged with that infuriating, lustful amusement she both loved and hated.
Amber could only nod, her fingers digging into the sheets as another needy whine escaped her. “Mm-hmm. Fuck baby—do it again...Please.” The words tumbled out before she could stop them, her voice embarrassingly breathy. Amber reached down between her legs, spreading her folds apart so he had better access, her swollen clit twitching under his gaze.
San’s eyes darkened when he caught sight of her swollen nub, his grip on his cock tightening as he let out another groaned laugh. “Fuck, princess,” he muttered, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe how perfect she was. He shifted closer, sitting on his bent knees between her legs, his free hand wrapping around his shaft as he tapped the tip against her clit again. And again. And again.
Each strike sent a jolt through her, her body jerking, her thighs trembling. Little whimpers spilled from her lips, her hips lifting off the bed, chasing the blissful sensation. “Fuck, it’s so hot when you do that, princess.” San groaned, his thumb brushing over the back of her thigh, his touch firm but gentle, like he was trying to ground her even as he drove her wild.
With his cock still in his hand, San dragged the needy, red tip through her slick folds, circling it against her clit a few times with a slow, teasing, press. Amber’s breath caught, her nails scraping against the sheets, before he finally notched the head of his cock just inside the brim of her entrance. He paused for a moment, giving her a teasing smile before pushing himself inside with one smooth thrust.
Amber watched as the veins in his throat tightened, his jaw dropping in sheer pleasure as he let out a guttural groan that resonated deep within his chest. Just the sight of that alone sent electric shocks down her spine and into her core where he was lodged deep inside her. San buried himself to the hilt, his groan mixing with her whimper as her walls clenched around him.
“Fuck—Amber—” San hissed, His forehead pressed against hers, his breath hot against her lips. She was so wet, so tight, her pussy already fluttering around him like it was trying to milk him dry. San’s hips stilled for a second, his fingers digging into her thigh as he fought for his own control, praying that he doesn't come right then and there, at least not yet, not when he still had so much more in store for her tonight.
San breathed through his movements, pulling back slowly, savoring the drag of her pussy around his cock before snapping his hips forward again, harder this time. Amber gasped, her fingers clawing at his back as he set a punishing pace. Every thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through her, her body overwhelmed by the stretch, the fullness, the way he owned her with every snap of his hips.
“Ah bitte, bitte, bitte!" she whimpered, her voice breaking as he hit that spot inside her that made her vision blur. He chuckled, low and dark, his lips brushing against her ear.
“That’s it, princess. Take my cock like a good girl.” His words sent a shiver down her spine, her pussy clenching around him in response. San groaned as Amber wrapped her legs around his waist, her bare feet digging into his ass, pushing him deeper inside her, urging him on. "Ah "Scheiße liebling, fick mich härter!" Amber pleaded in German.
He didn’t need to be told twice.
San’s grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her skin as he pounded into her harder just like she begged him too. The sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Amber’s moans grew louder, her voice breaking as she slipped into German again. San chuckled, his breath hot against her ear.
“What was that, princess?” he murmured, his thrusts never faltering. “I didn’t quite catch it.”
"Scheiße liebling, fick mich härter!" Amber whimpered slower in German, her body trembling.
San could only speculate that she was unleashing a torrent of German curses, as he recognized the words "Scheiße, fick, and härter, recalling her explanation that they translated to "shit, fuck, harder" in her tongue. Still, he couldn't help but enjoy the sound of it, especially when her adorable German accent infused her words with a feisty flair, making her seem perpetually irritated or ready to scold someone, which never failed to make him chuckle.
San groaned, his hips snapping forward. “Fuck, I love it when you talk dirty to me in German.”
Amber’s laugh turned into a sharp gasp once the tip of his cock grazed her sweet spot, making her back arch wildly off the bed as he ran his brawny hands down the center of her arched torso sending little shocks of heated bliss across her skin, adding to the mind-blowing sensation, and God, was Amber so addicted to his strong, muscular hands, their veins prominent and alluring. She absolutely loved the way his cool silver rings brushed against her warm skin, sending delightful shivers coursing through her body with every touch.
"There it is," San murmured, his voice rough as gravel, his breath ghosting over her collarbone. His free hand slid up the curve of her thigh, gripping her hip, and angling it just right enough to send electric bursts of pleasure up her spine with each deep thrust he made. San smiled proudly to himself when her moans, whimpers, and German curses got louder...much louder. "Looks like I found your weak spot Princess." San chuckled, removing his hand from her hip and up to her soft, ample, breast, his thumb brushing over her taut nipple before pinching just shy of pain making her sharply gasp.
Amber's thighs trembled-not from exhaustion, but from the way his words coiled tight in her gut. She hated how easily he read her, how he knew exactly what buttons to press. But god, she loved it too. Loved the way his grip tightened when she clenched around him, loved the way his breath hitched when she rolled her hips just right to meet his.
Every thrust to her sweet spot sent a jolt of pleasure through her, her body overwhelmed by the stretch, the fullness, the way he owned her with every snap of his hips, basically turning her into a moaning, whimpering mess.
“Fuck, the sounds you make for me are so pretty, babygirl,” San murmured against her neck, his breath hot and ragged. He kissed her temple, his lips lingering for a second before he pulled back just enough to watch her face twist in pleasure.
Amber could only moan in response, her vision blurring as another wave of sensation crashed over her. The wet sounds of their bodies slapping together filled the room, mixing with their ragged breaths and the steady drum of rain that began to pour against the windows outside. She was so close, her body coiled tight, her thighs trembling.
“Sannie!” she gasped, her back arching off the bed as her hands absentmindedly reached out for him. With a pleased smile on his face, San caught her hands, pinning it above her head, and intertwining his fingers with hers in a firm affectionate grip as he drove into her harder, his hips snapping against hers with relentless precision.
“I’m right here, baby, I'm not going anywhere." He cooed, his voice tinged with lustful affection, his breath hot against her ear as he pinned her hands above her head, intertwining his fingers with hers, his weight pressing her into the mattress, watching her face twist in pleasure, sending an erotic thrill through him. “Fuck—yeah, I know baby, I make you feel good, don’t I-Mm-hmm?” he murmured as she nodded her head along with him for she was too fucked out and high in the clouds to form coherent words.
Amber’s thighs trembled, her pussy clenching around him as she gasped. “Scheiße, San—just like that,” she whimpered, her German slipping out without thought. She loved the way his breath hitched when she cursed in her native tongue, the way his grip tightened just a fraction, like he was fighting the urge to fuck her even harder. She could feel every inch of him, every ridge of his cock dragging against her walls, which made her toes curl.
San chuckled darkly, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “There’s that accent, I love so much.” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement and lust. “it's Fucking adorable when you’re begging for me in German, princess.” He pulled back just enough to change their position, bending her over the edge of the bed, her fingers clawing at the sheets for purchase as San drove into her hard from behind. The new angle made her gasp, his cock sinking in even deeper, the head of it, striking that perfect spot inside her again and again until she was seeing stars.
“God—fuck—” Amber moaned, her fingers flexed wildly, her body already trembling on the edge. She could feel the wetness dripping down her thighs, the way her pussy fluttered around him, desperate for more. The rain outside was a distant roar, but the sound of their bodies slapping together was louder, wetter, filthier. She loved the way he took her, like he couldn’t get enough, like she was the only thing that mattered.
San’s hands slid up her back, his fingers tangling in her blonde hair as he pulled her up against his chest. His breath was ragged against her neck, his hips snapping forward with a rhythm that had her whimpering his name in desperate pleas. “You love this, don’t you?” he growled, his free hand sliding around to cup her breast, his fingers pinching her nipple just hard enough to make her whimper. “Love the way I fuck you, love the way I make you want to come—”
“Yes—fuck lliebling, yes,” Amber gasped, affectionately addressing him with a German endearment, throwing her head back against his shoulder. She could feel his cock swelling inside her, the way his breath hitched when she clenched around him and called him lliebling. His fingers slid lower, finding her clit with unerring precision, and she moaned as he rubbed tight, relentless circles into the sensitive bud. The dual sensation—his cock filling her, his fingers working her—was almost too much, her body trembling on the edge of release.
“San—Bitte, right there—” she begged, her German accent breaking so beautifully in his ears. She could feel the orgasm building, a storm inside her that threatened to consume her. His breath was hot against her neck, his lips grazing her skin as he murmured filthy Korean promises into her ear. Amber reached back running her fingers through his slick jet-black hair as she moaned for him, letting him know just how fucking good and beautiful he made her feel, inside and out. "Fuck-San-Just like that-I’m so close—fuck, I’m—”
“just let go, I've got you sweetie.” he growled, his hips snapping forward one last time, his cock buried deep inside her as his fingers worked her clit with ruthless precision again. “Come for me jagiya.”
With a primal growl, San delivered one last, forceful thrust, causing her orgasm to hit her like a freight train, her body shuddering as pleasure ripped through her. She let out an euphoric cry, as she reached her peak, throwing her head back, her body arching into him, engulfed by a tidal wave of pleasure that left her squirming and gasping for breath. Her thighs trembled, and her inner walls pulsed around him, making him groan, as his name tumbled from her lips in a breathless whimper.
San’s weight pressed against her as he leaned over her bent position on the bed, his chest rising and falling against her back as he trailed lazy kisses along her shoulder, his sharp jawline scraping deliciously against her skin. The bedsheets, damp from the heat of their bodies and the wetness that had dripped down her thighs in heated streams, were tangled around her legs as she remained on all fours, her skin slick with sweat and her breath coming in ragged gasps.
Amber shivered, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. She could feel him inside her, thick and hard, his cock twitching as he moved with slow, deliberate thrusts that sent sparks of pleasure skittering up her spine. Her inner walls clenched around him, greedy for more, however, even though she felt like she was soaring in ecstasy, a pang of disappointment washed over her for reaching her peak before San, filling her mind with post-climax doubts. "Why hasn’t he come yet? Does he want something else? Is he bored?"
She bit her lip, forcing the thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time to doubt and spiral. Not when his hands were roaming her body like he owned it, his fingers tracing the curve of her hip, the dip of her waist, the swell of her breast. His touch was possessive, reverent, and it made her feel like the most desirable woman in the world—even if her brain tried to convince her otherwise.
The rain outside continued to pour relentlessly, drenching the Seoul skyline in a heavy cascade, of twinkling gold and midnight blue, but inside, the world had narrowed to just the two of them, losing themselves in each other, as the night stretched out before them, brimming with the anticipating sense of endless possibilities.
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(This Chapter is based on the song Made For Me By Muni Long and Die for you by the weekend faet. Ariana Grande - Remix)
Upstairs in the penthouse, San leaned back against the plush headboard of his king size bed, one arm casually draped over the pillow beside him as he twirled the single crimson rose between his fingers. The penthouse around him hummed softly with the low, sultry rhythm of the R&B record he picked, spinning on the turntable, its smooth bass lines weaving through the open space like invisible threads pulling everything closer together. The candles he set up and lit flickered along the dresser and nightstands, casting gentle golden arcs across the walls, while the rose petals he scattered just a few minutes ago formed a delicate trail from the elevator doors all the way up the stairs and into his bedroom, ending in a perfect heart shape right where he now laid with all the charm and sex appeal he could muster.
His black silk shirt hung open halfway down his chest, the fabric cool against his skin, revealing the defined lines of muscle that shifted with every slow breath. The gold chain rested against his collarbone, catching the light each time he moved, and the faint trace of the pheromone cologne, the same cologne Domenico Dolce gifted him during Milan Fashion Week, lingered on his neck, warm and inviting. San was quite convinced that Domenico's intention in giving him that cologne was to help him find a girlfriend, particularly after Domenico made a joke about the cologne being a "bella donna magnet." However, now that he did have a girlfriend, what better time to use it than now.
San had spent the last hour transforming the entire place, making sure every detail aligned with the evening he had planned for Amber. The bouquet of roses sat on the bedside table, its deep red petals still fresh, while the Tiffany box with her engagement ring rested safely in his pocket, its weight a constant reminder of what he wanted to give her. The mint-blue box holding his own ring stayed tucked out of sight for now, but its presence added a quiet thrill to the moment.
San smiled to himself, recalling how Amber would always bury her face against his neck the moment she reached him, and the way her arms would wrap around him, holding him like a sweet little koala that never wanted to let go. That image alone made his pulse quicken. He shifted slightly on the bed, adjusting the open shirt so it framed his chest just right, the silk sliding over his skin in a way that felt both effortless and deliberate.
Time moved slowly in the penthouse, the music filling the quiet moments between breaths. San listened for elevator doors, half expecting them to open any second, and his fingers tightened around the rose stem. He pictured Amber stepping inside, following the trail of petals up the stairs, her expression shifting from surprise to something warmer. The thought sent a low current of anticipation through him. He had chosen the black pants because they fit him perfectly, the fabric smooth and tailored, and the way the gold chain rested against his bare chest made him feel both confident and a little playful. He knew Amber would notice every detail—the open shirt, the loose strands of his jet-black hair falling across his forehead just how she liked it, and the subtle scent that clung to his neck. Those small choices were what made nights like this feel special, like they were building something together that went beyond words.
The elevator chime broke the quiet, a soft tone that echoed through the vast space. San stayed perfectly still on the bed, the rose held lightly between his fingers, his body relaxed but his mind alert. The doors slid open and there she was, Amber, stepping into the penthouse with a tired but bright smile that quickly transformed as her eyes took in the scene. Rose petals led her gaze forward, up the stairs, and she followed them without hesitation, her footsteps soft against the floor. The music wrapped around her, the candlelight catching on the edges of her blonde hair.
Amber’s voice carried down the hallway, light and melodic as she called out, “San? Babe, where are you? I swear, if you’re hiding in that ridiculous walk-in closet again, I’m going to—” She rounded the corner into the bedroom and froze, her words dissolving into a soft gasp.
"San," she uttered softly, as it was the only word she could manage to say. Her voice carried a mix of surprise and warmth as she remained motionless in the bedroom doorway. Her breath hitched, and she gently bit her lower lip at the sight of San lounging there all sexy like on the bed almost as if he had been waiting for her all evening.
He watched her step, smirking to himself as her full attention remained fixed on him, her eyes moving from the heart-shaped petals on the bed to the open shirt that revealed the smooth, muscular, planes of his chest, the gold chain glinting with every subtle shift of his body. she crossed the room slowly, drawn forward by the trail he had created, and when she reached the side of the bed her fingers brushed over the silk sleeve of his shirt, feeling the warmth beneath it.
San sat up just enough to offer her the bouquet of roses he got her, his smile easy and inviting. “For you, princess,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. Amber took the roses, her fingers grazing his as she did, and the contact sent a small spark between them. Amber inhaled the delicate floral fragrance emanating from the crimson blossoms she held, her beautiful long eyelashes that San adored fluttered as she took in the floral scent, offering San a subtle smile that conveyed her profound gratitude.
Her blue eyes, those stunning European blues that had first caught his attention in a crowd of a thousand flashing cameras and screaming fans, widened as she took in the room. The romantic candles, the petals, the way the bed was turned down invitingly, as if waiting for them to sink into its embrace. “What’s all this for, babe?” she asked with a cute bubbly laugh, her sweet rose petal lips that San loves to kiss for hours curved into a sweet smile.
San rose from the bed in one fluid motion, his fingers brushing against the mint blue Tiffany box in his pocket. He pulled it out as he approached her, the movement deliberate, sure. Then, without hesitation, he dropped to one knee.
Amber’s breath hitched.
The ring box opened with a soft "click" revealing a sapphire ring surrounded by diamonds, the gem catching the light and scattering across her face like tiny stars. San had chosen it for her—for the way the deep blue hue mirrored her eyes, for the way it felt like a piece of the sky she could carry with her.
“Amber,” he began, his Korean accent steady despite the emotion thickening it. “From the moment you looked at me in that crowd with those beautiful blue eyes of yours—the ones that can see right through me, past all the glitz and glamour of my career—I knew you were the one.” His thumb traced the back of her hand, grounding him. “You’re my calm in the storm, my reason to come home whenever I perform. And now, with our baby coming…” He swallowed, his gaze never leaving hers. “God, I want to build that life with you. Officially. Will you marry me?”
Tears welled in her eyes, much like they had when she’d first told him about the pregnancy—those quiet, trembling moments in his living room, where he found the positive test by accident, however these tears were different. These were bright, overflowing with joy.
She nodded before he’d even finished speaking, launching herself at him with a laugh that was half sob, half exhilaration. “Fuck yes. A thousand times, yes.”
Amber was so overjoyed that she began laughing, spinning, dancing, her blonde hair flying around her like a golden halo making San laugh at how happy she really was right now. “You gotta hold still, baby,” he chuckled, “or I’m never getting this ring on you.”
Amber paused mid-twirl, her cheeks flushed, her smile so wide it looked like it might split her face. “Oh right. Sorry. I’m just—so happy, San.”
"I know you are baby, I can obviously tell." San laughed before flashing her a pleased smile that glowed in the candlelight and took her hand, his fingers warm against her skin as he slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly, as if it had always been meant for her. “Now it’s your turn,” he said, reaching for the second box he’d tucked beside the bed.
Amber’s eyebrows shot up. “My turn?”
He handed her the box, his grin turning playful. “Open it.”
She did, her fingers deft as she lifted the lid. Inside the ring box was a matching band, simple but elegant, the sapphire a twin to her own. “Well, would you look at that,” she teased, plucking it from the velvet lining. “Guess my Sannie wanted one too.” With a mischievous glint in her eye, she tossed the empty box onto the nightstand and took his hand. His fingers were longer, thicker than hers, and Amber couldn't help but wonder how in the world did they ever fit inside her, however she pushed that thought aside and focused on the muscles of his forearm that flexed as she slid the ring onto his finger.
“There,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “we're a perfect match made in heaven.”
San’s chest rumbled with a laugh as he pulled her close, his hands spanning her waist. “I have no objection to that.” Then, before she could react, he swept her up into his arms, twirling her until she shrieked with laughter. When he set her back down, her hands found his chest, steadying herself as the world tilted pleasantly around her.
Their lips met in a kiss that was soft at first, then deepened, slow and savoring, as if they had all the time in the world. And maybe they did.
Amber pulled back just enough to rest her forehead against his, her breath warm against his lips. “You’re ridiculous,” she whispered, but there was no heat in it, only affection.
San smirked. “And yet, you love me.”
“I do,” she admitted, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “God, I really do.”
He captured her hand, pressing another kiss to her palm before lacing their fingers together. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go, Amber. Not ever.”
She laughed, the sound light and free, as she backed him toward the bed. The candles flickered around them, the rose petals soft underfoot. “Then I guess you’re stuck with me, San.”
“Best kind of stuck,” he murmured, settling onto the edge of the bed and pulling her down until she was straddling him.
Amber could feel his growing erection underneath her and began to grind against him until he grasped her hips forcing her to stop.
"Not so fast princess, you're not going to make me come that fucking easy. Tonight, I want to take my time and make it last. arasseo?" San asked in Korean, lovingly brushing back her hair.
Amber nodded, reaching up and cupping his face with both hands, her sapphire ring glinting against the candlelight, a constant reminder of the promise they’d just made. “You know,” she said after a moment, her voice thoughtful, “I used to think love was all fireworks and grand speeches. But this…” She gestured vaguely at the room, at them. “This is better. This is real.”
San pressed a kiss to her temple, his arm snaking around her back holding her in place on his lap. “Real is all I want with you, princess.”
She tilted her head up, her blue eyes shining. “Then you’ve got me. All of me.”
His eyes were drawn to her lips, then descended further, noticing how her pink scrubs brought to mind a shade he had once dyed his hair during his career, which brought a smile to his face. Nevertheless, she appeared remarkably beautiful and relaxed in them. It brought back memories of a time she borrowed one of his white shirts, the one that perfectly clung to her curves. He had once told her how lovely she looked in it, and how seeing her so comfortable and authentic had a profound effect on him. And yet, she remained the same woman, even now, with a ring on her finger and their shared future unfolding before them.
Amber's eyes trailed down as his open shirt invited her attention, and she reached out without thinking, her palm resting lightly against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her touch.
The room felt smaller now, more intimate, the candlelight painting soft shadows across their faces. San tilted his head toward her, letting her lean in closer so her breath warmed the side of his neck where the cologne lingered. Amber inhaled deeply, her eyes fluttering half-closed as the scent wrapped around her senses, pulling her nearer physically, mentally, and sexually. Her fingers traced the edge of his open shirt, sliding over the silk and then brushing against bare skin, exploring the contrast between fabric and warmth. San’s hand found the small of her back, drawing her in with gentle pressure, encouraging the closeness without rushing anything.
They stayed like that for a while, the music providing a slow, steady backdrop as their touches grew more familiar. Amber’s hand moved upward, following the line of his collarbone and then resting against his neck, her thumb brushing just below his ear. San responded by shifting closer, his lips grazing the curve of her shoulder in a feather-light kiss that lingered. The silk shirt slipped further open under her exploring fingers, revealing more of his chest, and she traced the defined lines with the tips of her fingers, savoring the way his skin responded to her touch. Every movement felt deliberate, like they were learning each other all over again in the quiet of his penthouse.
San’s free hand found hers, intertwining their fingers for a moment before guiding her palm back to his chest. He leaned in, pressing a series of soft kisses along her jaw, each one slower than the last, building a quiet heat between them. Amber's breathing became shallow as she moved closer, her form aligning with his as she embraced him, her crimson-polished nails lightly touching his back while she loosely held the rose in her other hand.
The petals on the bed shifted beneath them, their scent mixing with the candles and the faint trace of his cologne. San’s gold chain caught on her fingers as she moved, and she followed its length down to where it rested against his skin, her touch light but purposeful.
San mirrored her movements, the open shirt falling open even more, and she took full advantage, running both hands over his chest now, feeling the warmth and the subtle rise and fall of his breathing. San’s fingers traced the line of her spine through her clothes, slow and steady, creating a path of warmth that made her lean into him more fully. Their foreheads touched briefly, breaths mingling, the music swelling softly in the background as they explored the space between them. They remained close, her hands resting on his chest while his arm circled her waist, continuing to hold her steady on his lap as the candlelight flickered around them.
The foreplay continued in slow waves. Amber ran her hands over the open edges of his shirt, pushing the fabric further apart so she could feel more of him. He responded by kissing the inside of her wrist, then the pulse point at her throat, each kiss deliberate and lingering. Her fingers traced the gold chain again, following it down until her hand rested flat against his stomach, feeling the heat there. San’s hand moved to her hip, guiding her closer until their bodies aligned more fully, the silk of his shirt brushing against her as they shifted together on the bed.
They kissed again, slow and deep, the kind of kiss that built heat gradually rather than all at once. San’s tongue brushed hers in a teasing stroke, and Amber answered with equal gentleness, her hands moving up to cup his face, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. The rose lay forgotten on the sheets beside them, its petals scattering slightly as they moved. San’s fingers slipped beneath the hem of her scrubs, tracing small circles against her lower back, each motion sending quiet sparks through both of them. Amber pressed closer, her chest against his bare skin, the warmth of him seeping through her clothes and making her want to stay exactly where she was.
The music changed to a slower track, the bass deeper, the vocals more intimate. San used the shift to roll them gently so Amber laid on top of him, his hands supporting her back as they continued kissing. Her fingers threaded through his jet-black hair, pushing the loose strands back only to let them fall again, exactly the way she liked. She buried her face against his neck for a moment, inhaling the cologne he had applied there which sent her hormones reeling, the intoxicating scent only making her press even closer to him, her lips brushing the spot just below his ear. San’s hands roamed over her sides, learning the shape of her through the fabric, never rushing, always inviting more.
They spent long minutes like that, trading kisses and touches that grew increasingly heated but remained focused on the journey rather than any destination. Amber’s hands explored his open shirt, sliding it off one of his broad shoulders so she could press her lips to the skin there. San groaned softly at the contact, the sound vibrating through his chest and into her palms. He retaliated by kissing along her collarbone, his breath warm against her skin, his fingers tracing patterns that made her shiver pleasantly. The rose petals shifted beneath them, the heart shape on the bed slowly becoming a soft, fragrant nest as they moved together.
The foreplay stretched on even more, becoming a dance of suggestion and anticipation. Amber straddled his hips, her knees digging into the soft mattress as she settled over him. The candlelight flickered, casting shadows that danced across San’s chest—muscles shifting under her palms as she leaned down to press her lips to his collarbone. His hands slid up her thighs, thumbs tracing slow circles that made her shiver. With deliberate slowness, she sat up just enough to pull the top of her scrubs over her head, revealing smooth, fair skin that glowed in the candlelight. San’s breath hitched as he took in the sight of her—her lace bra pushed her tits up just enough to make his mouth water. Amber caught his gaze, smirking as she straightened the bra, arching her back slightly to give him a better view. It was undeniably the hottest thing San had ever seen a woman do right in front of him.
His fingers twitched against her thighs, but he didn’t rush. Instead, he let his eyes roam, drinking in every inch of her like she was the last drop of water in a desert. Amber leaned down again, her blonde hair forming a curtain around them as she kissed him—deep, slow, her tongue sliding against his. Their bodies aligned from chest to hip, his silk shirt beneath her hands now completely open.
They rolled again, San now above her, his weight supported on his forearms as he kissed her lips passionately, grinding his hips ever so slightly against hers just to get a sweet-sounding moan out of her. Once he heard that moan, he couldn’t help but smile against her lips, loving the way her reactions turned him on.
“Fuck baby, I love all the pretty sounds you make for me, let's me know I'm pleasing my girl right." he murmured, his voice rough with desire.
Amber smiled, her fingers hooking into the waistband of his pants, tugging lightly, not to remove them but to pull him closer. The gold chain swung between them, cool against her heated skin, and she followed its path with her fingertips, tracing from his neck down to his stomach and back up again. Her gaze remained fixed on the gold chain as it swayed gently in the soft candlelight, momentarily captivating her attention much like a cat drawn to yarn, which elicited a deep chuckle from San. “My eyes are up here baby, is my chain distracting you?” San asked with a teasing lilt and Amber nodded with a laugh. San gave her a charming boyish smirk before leaning down and kissing the hollow of her throat, then lower, his lips brushing the tops of her breasts in a way that made her arch toward him. The night continued this way, teetering onwards to something more intimate, more intense and so much more alive.
Slight smut - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, petnames princess, babygirl, cussing, male masturbation, dirty talk, fantasy, fantasizing.
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(This Chapter is based on the song Eyes On You by SWIM and Work by Ateez)
San stepped out of the jewelry shop with two Tiffany boxes tucked into the pockets of his sleek black leather jacket, their weight pressing against his chest like a hidden rhythm. He breathed in the scent of cherry blossoms drifting from the trees along that quiet Seoul side street, a grin spreading across his lips before he settled into his car and pulled into traffic. Tonight was going to be unforgettable, not just because of the sapphire ring he'd gotten for her, but because he'd weave every detail into a surprise that would make her body respond to his touch like a nerve map lit up.
No more waiting. He was going to drop to one knee, slide the ring on that beautiful finger of hers, and then spend the rest of the night showing her exactly how deep his love ran—starting with the kind of slow, teasing worship that left her begging. His mind, already picturing the rose petals scattered like whispers across the floor, leading her to the heart of it all, but first he needed to buy a box of rose petals and he knew exactly where to get them. San gripped the steering wheel tighter as he drove toward a flower shop near his penthouse, thinking about the unforgettable look she would give him once she saw everything he did to surprise her when she got home.
San navigated traffic thinking of her small pregnant belly already visible just after four months, fuller curves and glowing skin. The memory of last night on the couch flashed back—how he'd made her squirt with his fingers for the first time, her thighs shaking, her core clenching and gushing all over his hand. That memory had made him half-hard just driving, imagining doing it again and again tonight until she couldn't think straight. He parked at the curbside of the flower shop but stayed in the car when he noticed the prominent bulge straining in his pants. "Fuck princess, just the thought of you does this to me." San cursed under his breath until a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips when he thought of something completely devilish. He was going to send her a picture of his arousal while she was at work. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, groaning when he finally pulled out his hardened cock. San wrapped his hand around the base and grabbed his phone taking a quick picture of it and sending it to Amber with a text message saying: “Holding this for you until you can do it in person.” Amber immediately sent him a screaming emoji along with a hot face emoji which made San laugh.
San put his phone down but he needed to relieve himself before he went anywhere. He couldn't just walk into a flower shop completely hard like this, he was sure to give the florist a heart attack if he did. San began stroking himself slowly and teasing at first with the thought of Amber running wild in his mind. He leaned back in the driver's seat, legs spread wide, one hand wrapped around the thick base of his cock while the other gripped the steering wheel for balance. His palm slid up the veined length, thumb circling the swollen head and spreading the bead of pre-cum that had already leaked out. The late afternoon sun warmed the leather interior, turning the car into a private box of heat where every slow pump sent sparks through his thighs. He pictured Amber at work, probably biting her lip at his photo he sent, her free hand slipping between her legs to press against the front of her pants while her blue eyes darkened with need.
He picked up speed, wrist twisting on each upstroke, the wet sound of his hand working over slick skin filling the quiet car. Sweat beaded along his forehead, muscles in his forearm tensing with every stroke. He threw his head back against the headrest, throat exposed, a low groan rumbling from deep in his chest. "Amber... fuck, princess," he moaned her name, the syllables breaking on a shuddering breath as his hips lifted off the seat. His balls drew tight, the fantasy shifting to her on her knees in his bedroom, her mouth open and waiting while he fed her every inch, her hair down in glorious blonde waves just like he liked it. San never really had a thing for blondes but that was way before he met Amber. The image of her pregnant body—round belly, heavy breasts swaying without a bra—pushed him closer to the edge. His strokes grew faster, rougher, fist squeezing tighter around the head until the pressure built like a coiled spring.
San's breathing turned ragged, pants and whimpers mixing as the pleasure crested. His free hand slid down to cup his balls, rolling them gently while the other hand worked the shaft in long, twisting pulls. It was the same maneuver Amber did on him whenever she touched him there like that and God, how it drove him crazy when she did. Tension coiled through his abs and thighs, every muscle locked for a moment before the orgasm hit. He groaned loud, back arching, ropes of his hot load shooting across his fist and onto the lower part of the steering wheel. His hips jerked with each pulse, his cock twitching in his grip as he milked himself through the aftershocks. For a long moment he sat there, chest heaving, panting hard, the car filled with the scent of sex and the quiet tick of the cooling engine. He took his time cleaning up with tissues from the glovebox, breathing slowly to calm his racing heart and steady his legs before he finally stepped out and headed into the flower shop.
Inside, the shelves overflowed with vibrant blooms that seemed to pulse with life under the soft glow of hanging lanterns. The florist, an elderly woman with silver hair and a knowing smile, recognized him instantly but said nothing, respecting the quiet urgency in his eyes.
"The red ones over there and a box of rose petals, please." he said, pointing to the velvety roses that reminded him so much of Amber's lips—full, inviting, and impossible to resist. The elderly woman nodded and wrapped the bouquet with care, adding a small box of loose petals like he requested. "Here you are, young man, have a wonderful evening." The florist said with a warm endearing tone in her voice as her nimble hands presented the items to him. "Thank you, you too." San responded with a courteous nod, then, walked to his car, carefully placing the roses and the box of matching petals onto the passenger seat, careful not to damage the vivid crimson blossoms. The fragrance of the roses filled his vehicle as he merged into traffic, driving toward the penthouse, anticipating a beautiful evening filled with happiness and passion.
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Later, when the ward quieted and most of the lights dimmed to a softer glow, Amber found herself back in the small break room once more, Kicking off her shoes, taking off her lab coat, and released the pink claw clip from her hair, letting her blonde strands fall in loose waves. She sat in the hospital recliner, knees drawn up, and opened the thread of messages again. San had sent a photo of his hand, however when she got a closer look she realized what he was holding.
"Fuck! I'm not even there with him and this man is already hard for me. God, he's so insatiable." Amber chuckled to herself until she read the caption reading “Holding this for you until you can do it in person.” Amber immediately sent him a screaming and hot face emoji for just that picture alone, made her breath catch.
Amber could feel a quiet ache bloom between her legs as she remembered the last time she touched him like that, how each stroke of her hand had brought a desperate whimper out of him on the couch. A submissive sound that she never thought in her wildest dreams she would hear him make for her, however she found her submissive Sannie, hot as hell. The memory of it all felt vivid enough to touch, and she found herself getting ready to reach down and touch herself until a soft knock at the door startled her.
One of the night nurses leaned in, offering a kind smile and a freshly prepared cup of tea. "I thought you might need this. The doctor on the night shift has just checked on the baby you were caring for in room 108. He told me to inform you that the newborn is now perfectly stable, and he will take over from this point if you wish to head home." Amber accepted the cup with genuine gratitude, the warmth seeping into her fingers.
After the nurse left, Amber leaned back against the recliner, letting her thoughts drift once more, while she finished her tea before she left for the night. She pictured San on stage, lights catching the sharp line of his jaw, the easy way he moved when music filled the space around him. She wondered what he would say if he could see her now, hair loose, scrubs rumpled, exhaustion and satisfaction mingling in equal measure.
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He always noticed the small things—the way her European blue eyes brightened when she talked about her patients, the way she tucked one foot beneath the other when she sat on his couch. Those small details were like cherished private treasures, little sparks that maintained their connection across the distance between them right now, and she desired nothing more than to continuously experience these private treasures with San.
The hospital lobby's fluorescent lights emitted a gentle hum from above, illuminating the polished floors with a sterile radiance that mirrored the resolute expressions of the night staff as they carried out their late-hour duties. Amber exhaled slowly as she stepped out of the elevator, the weight of the day still clinging to her shoulders like the faint scent of antiseptic and lavender lotion that followed her from the locker room. She rolled her neck, feeling the tension ease just a little, and adjusted the hair tie on her wrist—a habit she’d picked up on after San braided her hair that one day. All she knew for certain right now is that she missed him and couldn't wait to go home.
As she walked throughout the lobby her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out, smiling at the screen. Mr. Kang had replied to her text: "Shift over? Perfect. On my way, I'll be there in less than a minute." Amber smirked. Of course he was. San’s private security detail never left her waiting, especially when she and San required a getaway driver after that incident where one of San's Sasaeng fans tried to stab her at the airport. Amber tucked her phone back into her pink scrubs and waved at the receptionist, whose cheerful voice followed her as she passed. "Goodbye, Dr. Hoffman, you did fantastic work today; I’ll see you on Monday," the woman called, her voice carrying the kind of warmth that made the end of a long shift feel just a little lighter.
"Thanks, you too!" Amber called back, her voice tinged with the exhaustion of a day spent bending over charts, soothing anxious patients, and delivering news that ranged from joyous to heartbreaking. But there was something else beneath it too—something lighter, something that fluttered in her chest whenever her thoughts drifted to the man who wasn’t here. San. The way his fingers had moved through her hair the last time he’d braided it for her, his touch gentle but sure, his dark eyes flickering with amusement when she’d teased him about stealing his shirt. "You look better in it than I do." he’d murmured, his voice low, his gaze lingering just a second too long on the way the fabric draped over her shoulders, the way it hinted at the curves beneath. She’d felt her skin warm under that look, the same way it did now, just thinking about it.
The automatic doors slid open with a quiet, whoosh, and the cool evening air rushed in, carrying the distant hum of the city—car horns, the murmur of voices, the occasional laugh from a group of teenagers, who look to still be in high school, judging by the Korean school uniforms they were wearing, lingering outside a nearby café. Amber stepped forward towards the sprawling parking lot where Mr. Kang’s sleek black sedan idled near the curb.
She didn’t see him at first—just the white billowing smoke and faint glow of his cigarette between his fingers as he leaned against the car, the ember glowing like a tiny star in the dark. Mr. Kang was always punctual, always professional, but there was something about the way he held himself that made him seem like more than just a bodyguard and a personal Secretary. Maybe it was the way he never once let his gaze linger on Amber too long because he knew San would kill him otherwise, or the way he always had a fresh pack of gum in his jacket pocket for her whenever she got in the car.
“Evening, Dr. Hoffman,” he said, flicking the cigarette away before crushing it under his shoe. “You look exhausted.”
Amber laughed, swinging her bag as she approached. “Thanks. I feel it.”
He graciously opened the door for her, and she settled into the luxurious leather seat. The combined scents of leather, new car, and a subtle yet comforting hint of San's familiar cologne that seemed to wrap around her like a warm blanket. Mr. Kang got in behind the wheel, and the SUV purred to life, merging effortlessly into the flow of traffic.
“San’s tied up right now.” he said, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “But he asked me to tell you that he’s really looking forward to seeing you when you get back. Oddly to me he seemed a little too excited but I'm probably just over thinking things. I bet he just really misses you after a long photoshoot.” Mr. Kang added with a laugh.
Amber’s stomach did a little flip. San. Just hearing his name sent a warmth through her that had nothing to do with the car’s heater.
Amber leaned back against the cool leather of the SUV’s rear seat, her pink scrubs still carrying the faint trace of antiseptic from the OBGYN ward. The city’s neon signs slid past the tinted windows in streaks of crimson and electric blue, turning the downtown Seoul streets into a moving kaleidoscope. Mr. Kang’s steady hands rested on the wheel, his wired-rim glasses catching flashes of light each time they passed another food vendor hawking steaming tteokbokki. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the exhaustion settle into her bones like warm sand.
“First day behind you, and you survived,” Mr. Kang said, voice low and amused. “I half-expected you to sprint out the automatic doors the moment your shift ended.” Amber smiled without opening her eyes. “The receptionist waved me off like I’d just won a marathon. Felt oddly heroic, to be honest.” He chuckled, reaching forward to turn on the radio. The opening beats of ATEEZ’s *“Work”* spilled into the car, the bass thrumming through the seats. Amber’s eyes flew open as she playfully laughed with sarcastic disbelief. “Really? That song after I worked all damn day?”
“That’s right, Amber, you Gotta work, gotta make that money, make purse—yes! Got a fur coat, so I make it purr…Give 'em whiplash when they see me earn hoo! Gotta, gotta, gotta work." Mr. Kang teased, singing along in a playful tone and not missing a single beat.
“Oh my god, stop.” Amber laughed, swatting at his arm as he belted out the next line with exaggerated swagger. “You’ve been waiting all day to do that, haven’t you?”
“Guilty.” He grinned.
"I take it you're an Atiny at heart too" Amber asked. "Yeah, who wouldn't be, those guys are awesome-including your boyfriend San." Mr. Kang said with a proud smile.
"You're absolutely right," Amber agreed, a pink blush tinting her cheeks as her chest tightened at the mention of "boyfriend" followed by San's name. Just hearing someone else call San her boyfriend sent a warm pulse through her, a reminder of how proud she was of him—of everything he’d accomplished in his career, of the way he carried himself with such effortless confidence. It made her feel like she had the world in the palm of her hand, like she was holding something precious.
Mr. Kang reached over and turned the volume down just enough that the lyrics became a gentle pulse rather than a shout between them. “San texted me earlier, said to make sure you didn’t forget to eat. Something about how you skip meals when you’re focused.”
Amber had lunch, but she did not eat anything during her late afternoon shift due to the newborn case she was attending to.
"Yes," she responded, her voice wavering, aware that San would never let that slide.
"Amber." Mr. Kang said casting a discerning glance her way, evidently perceiving her hesitant untruth.
She sighed, conceding. "Very well. I did have lunch, but I might’ve forgotten to eat during my afternoon shift.”
“Might’ve?” He arched a brow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re lucky he’s not here to scold you himself. In fact, he'll probably most likely scold me instead. He consistently reminds me that I’m supposed to keep his best girl safe and well. I must admit San’s got it bad for you, but don't get me wrong in a good way, it shows that he cares about you."
Amber knew Mr. Kang had a point, San technically fucked her senseless on the first day, however, there was a part of her that loved his intensity; it certainly made him unique and unforgettable to her.
Amber glanced forward, her eyes catching Mr. Kang’s reflection in the rearview mirror. His proud smile was the same one he wore whenever he spoke of San’s accomplishments. She mirrored that same pride, allowing the warmth of that thought to settle over her, a reminder of San's journey and the quiet strength he possessed beneath the stage lights and camera flashes.
They drove in comfortable silence for a few blocks, the SUV weaving past open-air stalls where vendors flipped skewers over open flames. The scent of charred meat and sweet chili drifted in through the cracked window, mixing with the lavender lotion still clinging to Amber’s scrubs. She rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the ache from hours on her feet, and the motion made the fabric of her top shift just enough to remind her how much she preferred comfort over constriction after a long shift. The thought brought an unbidden smile; as she remembered how San loved it when she dressed comfortably, especially in his own shirt.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Mr. Kang asked, glancing at her in the mirror.
Amber shook her head, cheeks warming. “Just thinking about how strange it feels to be off work and still moving. Like the hospital is still humming inside my head.”
“San says the same thing after concerts. The adrenaline doesn’t switch off right away. He usually ends up pacing his penthouse until he finds something to ground him—like you.”
The words landed softly, but they carried weight. Amber felt a slow bloom of anticipation unfurl behind her ribs. She pictured the way San’s hand would find hers the moment she stepped inside, the way his thumb would trace small circles against her palm, never rushing, just present. The memory of their last argument—how it had dissolved into a kiss that left them both breathless—surfaced briefly, and she tucked it away like a secret she wanted to keep warm.
Traffic thickened near a night market, forcing Mr. Kang to slow down. Through the windshield Amber watched a young couple sharing a single skewer of fish cakes, laughing when the sauce dripped onto the girl’s sleeve. The ordinary sweetness of the moment made her chest tighten in the best way. She wondered what San was doing right then—maybe he was pacing his penthouse like Mr. Kang said, anticipating the very moment she walked through the elevator. Or maybe he was just chilling on the couch listening to music like he normally did when he wasn't busy, either way the thought of him waiting, of the space between them shrinking with every mile the SUV covered, sent a quiet thrill through her.
Mr. Kang cleared his throat gently. “He asked me to tell you something if I got the chance. He Said that you’re unique blue eyes is the first thing he looks for when he walks into a room.”
Amber’s breath caught, not from surprise but from the simple truth of it. She could almost feel San’s gaze on her now, the way it always made the air between them feel thicker, more alive. She remembered the night he had stood behind her in the en-suite bathroom, fingers working her hair into a braid with that quiet intensity of his, and how the simple act had felt more intimate than anything spoken aloud.
“Tell him I’ll hold him to that,” she said, voice lighter than she felt.
They turned onto a quieter street lined with old hanok-style buildings converted into cafés. String lights zigzagged overhead, casting warm pools on the pavement. Mr. Kang eased the SUV to the curb in front of San’s penthouse building, its looming modern glass façade reflecting the city’s nighttime glow like a starlit sky. He killed the engine but didn’t move to open her door right away.
“Take your time,” he said. “He’s probably upstairs pretending he isn’t watching the clock.”
Amber laughed, the sound small and tired and happy all at once. She gathered her purse, the pink scrubs rustling softly. Before she could reach for the handle, Mr. Kang was already there, opening the door with the same gallant flourish he’d used at the hospital. The night air was cooler than she expected, carrying the faint scent of crisp springtime rain somewhere in the distance.
She stepped out, and Mr. Kang offered his hand again, steadying her as her legs adjusted to solid ground after a long day's work. His grip was brief, respectful, but it grounded her in the present moment. She gave him a grateful nod.
“Thank you for the ride, and for the hilarious singing,” she said, managing a wink.
Mr. Kang grinned. “Anytime. Tell him I said he owes me for keeping his best girl safe.”
Amber turned toward the building entrance, the automatic doors sliding open with a soft whoosh. The lobby smelled faintly of polished wood and fresh coffee from the 24-hour café tucked in the corner. She crossed the gleaming floor, her sneakers squeaking against the marble, and pressed the elevator button. While she waited, she pulled her phone from her purse and typed a quick message: *I'm downstairs, heading up now. Mr. Kang says you owe him.*
The reply came almost instantly: *Tell him I’ll pay in coffee. Can't wait to see you princess.* Amber smiled before slipping her phone back into the pocket of her scrubs and stepped inside the elevator with only one person on her mind.
Slight smut - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, petnames Sannie, cussing, female masturbation, fingering, dirty talk, fantasy, fantasizing.
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(This Chapter is based on the song Fantasy by Mariah Carey and Marry You by Bruno Mars)
The hospital corridor was filled with the distinct aromas of antiseptic and weariness, two scents that Amber had become accustomed to disregarding. She gently pushed the phlebotomy cart towards room 108, softly humming the chorus of San's Creep Solo, a melody that had lingered in her mind since Mr. Kang had played it in his car earlier that morning. The melody was thin, barely audible over the beeping monitors, but it was enough to keep her mind from drifting toward the one person who had a habit of hijacking her thoughts.
"San."
She paused outside room 108, briefly stopping to adjust the strap of her stethoscope around her neck. The door was slightly ajar, and through the gap she could see the parents of the newborn—Mom dozing in the recliner, Dad scrolling on his phone—both looking like they’d been through a warzone and lost. Amber knocked softly with her knuckle, then pushed the door just enough to enter, guiding the phlebotomy cart beside her until she arrived at the incubator where the small newborn baby, swaddled in a blue blanket that matched the father’s hoodie, rested peacefully.
Amber leaned over the baby, her fingers gently lifting the tiny wrist to check the pulse. The baby blinked up at her, unfocused but curious. Amber couldn’t help but smile. Babies were so unfiltered in their reactions—no pretense, no social masks, just pure, innocent curiosity. The baby's eyes lit up at Amber through the incubator, as if it trusted Amber and knew she was only there to help.
"You're looking much better now, little one," Amber cooed, her voice soft and soothing, yet playful, just to elicit a reaction from the baby. The baby cooed in response, kicking one leg excitedly. Amber chuckled, reaching for the thermometer. “Yeah, I know. You’re a little k-pop star, aren’t you?”
She gently checked the baby's temperature, then listened to his chest and abdomen with efficient and careful movements. Next, Amber carefully checked the newborn's IV line to ensure it was clear before selecting three vials from the phlebotomy cart to draw the baby's blood directly from the line. Afterwards, Amber used a syringe to flush the IV line with a clear solution, thereby clearing the line of any blood that had just been collected.
Eventually, the Mother stirred, her sleep-heavy eyes flicking open as she noticed Amber and watched her work. Amber glanced at the Mother, giving her a reassuring thumbs-up. “His vitals are strong. Everything’s stable. You two can finally relax a little.”
The mother let out a shaky breath, her shoulders relaxing. The father set his phone down, his face breaking into a relieved grin. “Thank you, Doctor,” he said, his voice rough with exhaustion.
Amber nodded, stepping back. “Of course. The nurse will be in shortly to check on you. If anything changes, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Amber was preparing to clean up after drawing the baby's blood when the father's voice captured her attention, causing her to pause momentarily.
"You know, you are truly the best doctor we have encountered here so far," he expressed, his tone conveying genuine gratitude. "You have a remarkable way of making everything feel less daunting here."
Amber paused, turning to him with a grateful smile. "That is my professional duty, but I sincerely appreciate your kind words." She said as the father nodded and returned his attention to a video on his phone.
After Amber cleaned everything, she properly disposed of all the trash and tossed the used needles into a red biohazard container that was securely affixed to the wall beside the father. However, she paused once more when she recognized a familiar K-pop melody emanating from the father's phone.
"I take it you're a K-pop fan too?" Amber asks with a lighthearted laugh.
The father chuckled, glancing up from his phone. "Nah, but I do like ATEEZ. Those guys are dope, especially this guy. The way he dances is phenomenal."
Amber leaned in slightly, her curiosity piqued, as the father tilted the phone towards her so she could see what he was watching. However, once she saw who was on the screen, her breath hitched. "Shit."
It was San.
Amber’s knuckles turned white as she clutched the plastic edge of the phlebotomy cart, her fingertips pressing into the inexpensive laminate while she gazed at the father's phone screen. The video came to life with vibrant color, flickering between frames of San in mid-spin, his jacket flaring open just enough to flash the sweat-slicked ridges of his toned abs. The black fabric of his pants clung to him like a second skin, the thick outline of his cock unmistakable as it twitched with every roll of his hips.
Amber’s breath hitched. She was supposed to be working, acting like the professional doctor that she was, not drooling over her boyfriend's dick while he performed on a set god knows where. But fuck, the way he moved—like he was fucking the air itself, like every roll of his hips was a preview of how he’d pin her down on his bed, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he thrusted into her with that same precise hip roll she was watching now.
Amber’s thighs pressed together involuntarily, her skin heating under her scrubs as she was completely captivated when the video cut to a close-up—San’s damn smirk, the way his tongue flicked over his lower lip before he mouthed the lyrics directly into the camera. Amber’s stomach flipped. She knew that look all too well, that was the same look San gave her when he wanted sex.
She was hypnotized, her eyes glued to the way his abs clenched to the beat, the way his pants strained with every movement. That was one of the things she loved most about his body—the way his abs would clenched just before he came, which was a major fucking turn on for her, as if just the sight of his own pleasure was hers too.
At that moment Amber's raging hormones, mainly due to the pregnancy, literally had her body on the brink of combustion. Every brush of her scrubs against her skin seemed to send jolts of pleasure straight to her clit and all she wanted right now was to feel his strong, sturdy hands all over her body, his hips stuttering against hers, his breath hot against her neck as he groaned her name. Just the thought of that made Amber’s heart burn with desire. Feeling sexually overwhelmed, Amber needed to get out of this hospital room as fast as she possibly could.
"Fuck," she whispered low enough under her breath so no one present in the room could hear her.
At this point Amber was officially, sexually overwhelmed and it didn't take long for the father of the newborn to notice the heated red blush creeping on Amber's face.
"You good, Doctor?" The father asked with a raised eyebrow.
Amber forced a shaky laugh, quickly tearing her gaze away from San's provocative movements on the father's phone. "Huh? Yeah, just admiring the mind-blowing talent. Take care now."
She didn’t wait for the father's response and promptly moved away, guiding the phlebotomy cart back into the cool, sterile atmosphere of the hallway, with the hope that it would alleviate the burning heat of her skin.
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Amber’s fingers dug into the hospital wall, the cold surface doing nothing to soothe the fire burning under her skin. The hallway stretched endlessly in front of her, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like a swarm of angry bees. She exhaled sharply, her breath hitching as another wave of heat pooled between her thighs. Amber groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Oh my god, that was so embarrassing. I almost lost my composure right in front of my patients." Amber murmured to herself, her voice becoming somewhat high-pitched and squeaky.
Fuck, this was ridiculous. San wasn't even here with her to begin with and all it took was one sexy video of him to send her reeling. Pregnancy hormones were supposed to make you glow, not combust. But no, here she was, flushed and throbbing in the middle of a goddamn hospital hallway like some kind of hormonal teenager. And of course, San had to be the one to light the match.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but that did nothing to soothe her frazzled imagination. The image of him—lean, muscular, that infuriatingly confident smirk to his lips—was seared into her brain. His hands on her hips, his breath hot against her neck, the way his breath shuddered and his abs had clenched when she’d dragged her nails down them. Amber groaned, tipping her head back against the wall "Goddammit, San. Get out of my head." Her pussy clenched at the thought as a wet heat pooled between her legs. She groaned again, pressing a hand between her thighs, her clit already swollen and aching. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
She needed relief. Now.
Glancing down the hallway, she confirmed the coast was clear—no nurses, no doctors, no patients. Just the hum of the air conditioning and the distant beep of monitors. Perfect.
She rolled the phlebotomy cart back to the nurses’ station, her movements jerky before she quickly ducked into the storage closet behind the desk, locking the door with a quiet click. The air inside was thick, the scent of disinfectant and latex gloves doing nothing to cool the fire between her legs.
Amber didn’t waste time. She shimmied out of the pink bottoms of her scrubs and her black lace panties, kicking them aside, and perched herself on a spare office chair that was in the corner of the storage closet. She opened her legs, spreading them wide as she bit her bottom lip in anticipation.
"Oh fuck," she gasped as she touched herself, her hips jerking forward. The fantasy of San—his hands on her, his mouth, his dick—flashed through her mind like a damn fever dream. She imagined him pinning her against the wall, his teeth grazing her neck as he fucked her from behind. The way his abs would clench, his rhythm driving her wild.
Her fingers moved faster, circling her clit as she arched her back, her free hand gripping the chair for support. "Fuck, yes Sannie—just like that," she moaned, low enough that no one outside would hear.
She pictured San’s smirk, the way his eyes darkened and his pupils grew big with desire when he looked at her. The way he’d grip her hips, slamming into her until she was a trembling mess beneath him. Her fingers slid lower, teasing her entrance before pushing inside.
"Oh fuck," she whimpered, her walls clenching around her fingers as she imagined him filling her completely. She curled her fingers, rubbing her G-spot as her hips rolled, her thighs trembling.
She could feel it building—the pressure, the heat, the raw need. She bit her lip to stifle a moan as her fingers worked her faster, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Her free hand flew to her breast, squeezing hard as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter inside her.
“San,” she whimpered his name, her voice breaking as she chased the edge. Her fingers worked faster, circling her clit, teasing herself just like he would. She could practically feel his breath hot against her skin, his tongue replacing her touch, his hands holding her open as he feasted on her. A shudder ran through her, her thighs trembling.
“Fuck—fuck, fuck—” she gasped, Her back arching, her head falling back against the shelf behind her as her walls pulsed around her fingers. Her orgasm hit her like a storm, her body convulsing as pleasure crashed over her.
"Fuck, that was good." she panted, her head falling back as the last waves of her climax rolled through her. She collapsed against the chair, her chest heaving, her skin slick with sweat.
She stayed like that for a moment, catching her breath, before finally pulling her fingers free and licking them clean.
Amber promptly redressed, smoothing down her pink scrubs before exiting the closet. The hallway inside the OBGYN ward was quiet, the kind of hushed stillness that only came in the late afternoon, when the day shift was winding down and the night shift hadn’t quite taken over yet. Amber tucked a loose strand of her blonde hair behind her ear as she walked down the sterile hallway. She had finished her rounds early, but something about the way the newborn in room 108 had whimpered as she checked on him made her linger just a little longer. She wanted to make sure the night shift nurses were settled in, that the baby had everything he needed—a warm blanket, a bottle within reach, a monitor that wasn’t beeping erratically. She wasn’t technically required to stay, but Amber had never been one to cut corners when it came to care.
As she neared closer to the break room, her phone buzzed against her hip. The vibration was soft, almost polite, like a secret knock. Amber pulled it out, the screen lighting up with his nickname that she put on the chat "Sannie." Just seeing his name at the top of her screen sent a quiet thrill through her, a warmth that settled in her chest before spreading lower, like sunlight breaking through clouds. She ducked into the break room at the end of the hall, the door clicking shut behind her with a quiet thud. The air smelled faintly of stale coffee and antiseptic, a weird but familiar mix that always clung to the hospital like a second skin.
She tapped the notification, and the screen revealed a photo San had sent while at his photoshoot—or at least, she assumed it was his photoshoot, given the stark backdrop, the professional lighting, and the way the shadows carved out his sharp jawline and chiseled god-like features. He was dressed in a blue suit, his tie perfectly knotted, his jet black hair styled just so, his makeup still lightly dusted across his cheekbones and around his eyes. Amber let out a soft laugh, because honestly, he looked like he’d walked straight out of a high-end action movie—maybe Rush Hour with Jackie Chan, or James Bond, if Bond had ever been this effortlessly charming.
"Missed seeing those beautiful blue eyes of yours today, princess." he texted.
The word princess made her stomach flip as usual, a reaction that never got old. No one had ever looked at her the way San did—like she was something precious, something he couldn’t quite believe was real. She bit her lip, fingers hovering over the keyboard, before typing back quickly.
"They’re missing you too, babe. Be safe."
The reply came almost instantly, a flurry of heart emojis and a promise that made her chest tighten. She tucked the phone back into her pocket, but the smile stayed, curling at the corners of her mouth as she poured herself a cup of tea. It was lukewarm, but she took a sip anyway, letting the steam rise against her face as her mind drifted.
She could almost feel the weight of his body against hers again—the way his fingers had traced the inside of her thigh in his penthouse that morning, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. She remembered the way he’d trailed his hand up higher on the inside of her thigh, pushing her legs open, touching her where she wanted him the most, as he whispered something filthy in that low, teasing tone of his. God, she loved it when he did that. The memory alone sent a slow, delicious heat through her, the kind that pooled low in her belly and made her thighs press together just a little tighter.
The pager at her hip chirped, snapping her back to reality. She set the cup down with a quiet clink and moved toward the nurses’ station, where Mrs. Mrs. Mangjeol's chart was still waiting for her signature. She scribbled her name at the bottom, her pen scratching against the paper, before glancing back at her phone. Nothing new from San. Of course not. He was a celebrity, even if he never acted like it. Between photoshoots, interviews, and god knew what else, he was always on the move. She understood that. But damn, she wished he’d slow down just long enough to send her one more message.
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San was standing in front of the glass counter at the jewelers, the thought of finally popping the question and proposing to Amber with a sapphire engagement ring made San's body hum with excitement and anticipation. The jeweler, a slender gentleman with circular spectacles and a tendency to adjust his bowtie, had briefly departed to retrieve a selection of sapphire engagement rings. Meanwhile, San held his phone near, admiring a lovely picture of Amber on his phone. One that he intended to show to the jeweler, who wished to see Amber's eye color in order to appropriately match the sapphire of the ring.
San's phone buzzed in his hand, it was a reply to his text message, already smiling because he knew it was Amber. The message notification lit up the screen, and his breath hitched when he saw her reply to his earlier message. "They’re missing you too, babe. Be safe." The words were simple, but they warmed his heart and made him fall head over heels in love with her again. He loved that she missed him. He loved that she texted him back at all, especially when she was working. Amber was always so focused when she had her scrubs on, her mind entirely on her patients, but somehow, she still found time for him.
He typed back quickly, his thumbs moving fast.
He hit send, then hesitated. He could almost picture her right now—her blue eyes lighting up when she read it, her lips curling into that smile that made his chest ache. He wanted to see it in person. He wanted to be the one to make her smile tonight. He wanted to be the one to peel those scrubs off her body and trace every inch of her skin with his hands, his mouth.
The jeweler returned, gently interrupting San's thoughts, as he carefully placed a tray on the glass counter before him. The tray was adorned with numerous shimmering blue sapphires. "These are the finest and newest sapphires we currently have in stock," Dan announced, presenting them with a gesture of his hand like a car salesman.
San surveyed the sparkling gems with an approving nod, appreciating their exquisite blue tones. "Were you able to find a picture?" Dan inquired, and San confirmed, offering his phone. "This is my girlfriend I mentioned to you; the one with the beautiful blue eyes and all," San shared with a proud smile.
"Indeed, her eyes are uniquely blue yet very beautiful in color just like these sapphires here. I already have a few in mind. Would you mind if I briefly borrowed your phone?" Dan requested.
"No, please feel free," San replied, allowing Dan to place his phone beside the sapphire tray. Dan then selected a few sapphires, holding them up to Amber's eyes in the photograph to ascertain the ideal shade. He narrowed his selection to four, pushing the tray aside and placing each sapphire on the glass counter before San.
San meticulously examined each one, his gaze immediately drawn to the fourth sapphire, which he felt perfectly encapsulated Amber's essence. "These four sapphires appear to be your most suitable choices; however, I believe the fourth one would be the most appropriate as it beautifully complements your girlfriend's eyes perfectly, though it's a bit on the pricier side," Dan explained, pointing to the fourth sapphire. "This particular piece you are examining is manufactured by Tiffany, it's a 24K Sapphire Diamond, likely valued at approximately ₩50 million."
San chuckled, "Please be assured, Dan, the cost is not a concern. I'll take it; it is absolutely perfect for her," San added, which brought a pleased smile to Dan's face.
"Alright then! your complete total will be ₩50 million even." Dan said and San slid his credit card across the glass counter, watching as Dan processed it without a fuss. The approval beeped softly, and Dan handed it back. "Here is your card back. Please allow me a moment while I place the rings in a box for you," Dan said kindly, turning to fetch the classic mint green Tiffany box from the shelf. San watched as he positioned the sparkling sapphire engagement ring followed by its matching wedding band within its slot, the stone catching the light like a captured star.
San retrieved his phone from the glass counter and returned it to his pocket, yet the image of Amber remained vividly in his thoughts. He intended to convey the depth of his feelings for her that evening, ensuring she truly understood and felt his affection. The mere anticipation of this made San's mind drift back to Amber, the woman who had so thoroughly captivated him. Amber, with her natural elegance and striking blue eyes, had entered his life much like an unexpected summer storm—invigorating, powerful, and utterly captivating. Their relationship had not begun with elaborate displays or conventional romance; rather, it had developed quite swiftly within the ordinary moments of her life intertwined with his public one, gradually evolving into something deeply significant. It was only when Dan gently closed the Tiffany box with a soft thud and presented it to San that he was drawn back to reality.
"Congratulations, and best of luck with your proposal. I extend my warmest wishes to you and your girlfriend. If you wouldn't mind, may I
Ask for your autograph? It would be a cherished gift for my daughter, who deeply admires you and your music. Her sixteenth birthday is approaching, and I've acquired this necklace from the shop for her. Would it be at all possible for you to autograph the box?" Dan inquired, his eyes lighting up with a mix of professional courtesy and genuine fandom.
This brought a warm smile to San's face, the kind that crinkled the corners of his dark, intense eyes. "Certainly, anything for an Atiny's birthday," he responded, his voice carrying that signature smoothness that had charmed fans worldwide. Dan presented the box, revealing the delicate necklace he'd chosen—a simple silver chain with a pendant shaped like a tiny musical note. San nodded in approval, pleased to witness such a caring father at work. It stirred something in him, a vision of himself one day doing the same for his own little one, perhaps with Amber by his side, her European blue eyes sparkling with shared joy. "I'm confident that your daughter would adore this; she's truly fortunate to have such a dedicated father as yourself," San remarked, prompting a proud, fatherly smile from Dan as he slid the box across to him for signing.
San, no stranger to the ritual of autographs, swiftly signed the top of the jewelry box, adding a brief message for the birthday girl beneath his name: "Happy birthday, princess, thank you for being a strong, supportive Atiny, Keep shining - your proud idol, San." With an appreciative tone, he then said, "Here you are, and thank you for all your assistance; I couldn't have perfected the ring without your expertise."
"You are most welcome! And please continue to shine; your fans, including my daughter and me, always look up to you," Dan responded, giving San a friendly pat on the back.
"Before you leave, I also have this for you," Dan stated, immediately capturing San's attention as he presented another Tiffany box to him. San opened the box to reveal a matching sapphire engagement and wedding band, intended for him. San looked at Dan with a puzzled expression, wondering why Dan was just simply giving him this.
"This one is for you. It matches hers. And don’t worry it's on the house. Consider it a gift from me since I own the shop." Dan said with a kind smile. "I sincerely appreciate your kindness, Sir, and I understand that I am a celebrity, but I assure you it is not necessary," San stated, endeavoring to maintain a humble demeanor with the man. San has always preferred not to leverage his celebrity status for personal gain or special attention.
"I assure you, there is no need for modesty. It is clear that you are deserving of this. Your hard work is apparent to all who admire you, myself included. Although San initially had some reservations about accepting this type of gift from Dan, he ultimately understood the kind intention behind the gesture. Therefore, to avoid causing any offense, San sighed and gracefully accepted the gift, with an appreciative nod.
"Should you ever need anything else, please feel free to visit my shop at any time; you are more than welcome here," Dan expressed, and San acknowledged this with a nod, carefully placing both mint green Tiffany boxes into the pockets of his black leather jacket. The weight of these items felt like a private assurance close to his heart as he stepped out of the jewelry store, a sense of eager anticipation for the romantic night ahead coursing through him. He felt prepared, and his sole hope was that Amber shared the same readiness.
Amber had just barely finished her lunch when her pager chimed again, indicating an urgent case that required her immediate attention. Amber promptly left the break room and placed her lunchbox in the locker room, then proceeded down the hallway towards room 108. Upon arriving at the room, she opened the door and entered.
Inside the room, the air was thick with the sharp tang of antiseptic and the unspoken weight of fear. The newborn’s parents stood near the incubator, their hands clasped so tightly their knuckles had turned white. The mother’s voice trembled as she spoke in rapid Korean, her words tumbling out in a frantic stream. Amber didn’t need to understand every syllable to recognize the plea in them. She stepped forward, her European blue eyes softening as she reached for the woman’s hand.
“Gwaenchana,” she murmured, the Korean phrase rolling off her tongue with practiced ease just like San taught her. *It’s okay.* The words were simple, but the way she said them—gentle, steady—seemed to loosen something in the room. The mother exhaled, her shoulders sagging just a fraction, though her grip on Amber’s hand didn’t lessen.
Amber gave her a small, reassuring squeeze before turning toward the incubator. The newborn inside was tiny, swaddled in a blanket that dwarfed its fragile frame. Its cries were weak, more like the mewling of a kitten than the robust wail of a healthy infant. Amber’s heart clenched. She didn’t need the monitors to tell her what was wrong—the flushed skin, the rapid breathing, the way the baby’s limbs twitched with fever. She had seen this before.
With deft movements, she opened the incubator and lifted the newborn into her arms. The baby’s cries stilled almost instantly, as if it recognized the warmth of another human touch. Amber cradled it against her chest, her thumb brushing over the downy softness of its hair. “Awe, you poor sweet thing, Shh...it's alright, I'm here to make it all better.” she cooed, her voice dropping into the low, melodic cadence of a lullaby. The German words spilled out of her without thought, the same ones her mother had sung to her when she was small. The melody was soft, soothing, wrapping around the room like a blanket.
The parents watched, their expressions shifting from fear to something softer, something almost reverent. They didn’t understand the words, but they understood the intent. The mother’s tears had stopped, her breath hitching as she watched Amber sway slightly, her fingers tracing circles on the baby’s back.
San had always loved the way Amber sang. He had told her once, months ago, that her voice was like warm honey—sweet and rich, with a depth that made his chest ache. She hadn’t believed him at the time, thinking he was merely trying to spare her feelings, given his profession as a singer, but now, as she hummed the last notes of the lullaby, she could almost feel the weight of his gaze on her, even though he wasn’t there.
The baby’s breathing steadied. Amber adjusted the warming blue lights above the incubator, her movements precise but unhurried, as if she had all the time in the world. She glanced at the monitors, her eyes flicking over the vitals before she nodded to herself. The fever was high, but not yet dangerous, however She could bring it down with medication at this point.
She reached for the IV line, her fingers steady as she inserted the needle with practiced ease. The parents flinched, but Amber didn’t. She had done this a hundred times before, and she knew how to make it as painless as possible. The baby barely stirred, its trust in her absolute.
“Your baby is a fighter,” she said, glancing up at the parents. At this point her Korean was a bit broken and halting, but she made sure to meet their eyes as she spoke. “We’ll get through this.”
The father exhaled, his shoulders slumping in relief. The mother pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes shining. Amber gave them a small smile before turning her attention back to the newborn. She tucked the blanket snugly around its tiny body, her touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.
The monitors beeped steadily now, the rhythm reassuring. The baby’s color had returned to a healthy pink, and its breathing was deep and even. Amber stepped back, her hands lingering on the edge of the incubator for a second before she forced herself to let go.
“You can stay with your baby,” she said, gesturing to the chairs beside the incubator. “I’ll be back to check on you soon.”
The parents nodded, their gratitude palpable. Amber gave them one last reassuring smile before slipping out of the room, the door clicking softly shut behind her.
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On the other side of the city the photoshoot for 10 Magazine pulsed with the kind of controlled chaos that San thrived in—cameras clicking like impatient metronomes, lights slicing through the air like spotlights on a stage, and the faint hum of K-pop tracks underscoring the scene. Just before the tour, San had made a special appearance at Dolce & Gabbana's Milan Fashion Week, which afterward landed him the front cover as the hottest K-pop idol of the month. That meant dialing up the sex appeal for the cameras, nothing new for San—he'd done plenty of shoots like this before. The most awkward one he'd ever endured was a pose where it looked like he was about to grab his dick, even though his hand was actually above it, yet still giving the illusion that he was going to. Even though that photo was awkward as hell, San knew it was all part of the game: to be loved by your fans meant that you had to sell the image, the raw edge of desire that fans devoured. That was the first thing he learned as a trainee before he debuted on the K-pop scene with Ateez back in 2018.
Photographers, stylists, and wardrobe personnel buzzed across the vast studio in Gangnam's creative district, a converted warehouse where exposed brick walls clashed with sleek white backdrops. San stood at the center, his sharp jawline catching the perfect angle under the photographer's barked directions, his effortless charisma turning every pose into something magnetic. But once he slumped into the makeup chair and his longtime stylist, Su-min, dusted a final layer of powder over his cheekbones, San's mind wandered far from the glamour.
He thought of Amber, her first day at a new hospital. He could only imagine how nerve-wracking it probably was at first, but he knew how strong and resilient Amber was. She was his Miss Independent, after all. He could already see her kicking off her day in the crisp, sterile corridors of Seoul University Hospital, saving tiny lives as if she were Wonder Woman herself. Earlier that morning, before the sun had fully crested the skyline, he'd sent her a quick text: "you've got this princess, and Remember, you're the one who calms storms—today's just another wave." It was a small thing, but he knew how those words could anchor her, the way she always anchored him during the whirlwind of his schedule. The memory of her coming clean about her pregnancy flickered in his mind—that quiet night when he accidentally found the positive test yet she mustered up enough courage to tell him the truth, her European blue eyes shimmering with tears he gently wiped away, pulling her close until her sobs turned to shared laughter. He appreciated her honesty when he found out about the pregnancy, most would've just try to hide it because they were to afraid to confront it, but Amber didn't. She was his strong girl, and just the thought of the pregnancy warmed him from the inside, a secret glow that no amount of stage lights could outshine. And now, as he stood there, that smile crept onto his lips, unbidden and impossible to suppress.
Su-min paused, her brush hovering mid-air. She'd seen San in this chair countless times since his debut, watched him transform from wide-eyed rookie to this poised force of nature. But today, he was different—radiating, almost luminous. "You alright there, San? You've been grinning at your phone like it's whispering secrets for the last half-hour," she teased, her voice light but probing.
No response. San was lost in the glow of his screen, replaying Amber's reply: a simple heart emoji that felt like a promise. Su-min snapped her fingers inches from his face. "Earth to San," she laughed, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Thinking about someone special?"
San blinked back to the present, his chuckle low and warm—the kind that Amber always said melted her like butter on hot toast. "Guilty as charged," he admitted, pocketing his phone. "Just hoping her day goes smooth. It's a big one for her."
Su-min nodded, resuming her work with a knowing smile. "Well, with a boyfriend like you, cheering her on, she'll be fine. Besides, you're always so attentive towards her San—it's sweet."
"You really think so?" San asked, his tone genuine, seeking that reassurance like he did from Amber's steady gaze.
"Absolutely," she said, stepping back to assess her handiwork. "Have you two talked marriage yet? I mean, the way you light up when you talk about her, not to mention, you already had sex with her countless times... it's obvious you're all in."
San's smile deepened, though he tried to play it cool. "Not yet, but yeah—I want to. Especially now that she's expecting."
Su-min's eyes widened, her powder brush clattering softly onto the vanity. "Expecting? Oh, San, that's wonderful! You have to propose soon. A baby changes everything—in the best way."
He nodded, running a hand through his styled hair, careful not to mess it up. "I know, but she's worried about the scandal. My career... the fans, the media. It could blow up."
Su-min tilted her head, thoughtful. "True, but think about it: her pregnancy plus a marriage? That might soften the edges. People question less when it's official. At least, that's what I'd bet on."
She had a point, sharp as the eyeliner she was about to apply. San leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. "You're right. I should do it properly—get her a ring. Know any good jewelers nearby?"
"Apgujeong Rodeo Street in Seoul's Gangnam district," Su-min replied without hesitation, extending her hand to show off her own ring, a delicate band that caught the light like captured starlight. "My husband got mine there. Discreet, high-quality—perfect for someone like you who needs to stay under the radar."
San took her hand gently, studying the ring with the focus of an artist sketching his next masterpiece. It sparked ideas—something simple yet elegant, to match Amber's effortless grace. "This is perfect. Thanks, Su-min. You've got a knack for this."
"No trouble at all," she said warmly. "Even idols deserve the real stuff—love, family, all of it. Now, hold still. Eyeliner time before wardrobe storms in and kicks me out."
San obliged, lowering his head, his eyes locking onto hers in the mirror as she traced the line along his lashes, sharpening that gaze that had captivated millions. But in his mind, it was Amber's blue eyes he saw, lingering on him in those quiet mornings, pulling him into a world far from cameras and crowds.
"Perfect! You're all finished San. Now you look exceptionally handsome for your photoshoot," Su-min declared, stepping back from San so he could admire his reflection in the mirror.
"Wow, that's quite impressive. Did you create a smokey eye effect or something?" San inquired with genuine curiosity.
"Sort of, I was just improvising. You possess a stare that captivates ladies hearts, so I thought since you're going to be on the cover for hottest K-pop idol, why not accent what ladies love most about you, which is your eyes. I just simply applied some darker shades to your upper eyelid and refined the curve of your eyeliner, particularly at the corners, to achieve that striking, bold appearance." Su-min explained, demonstrating everything she did with exaggerated hand gestures before gathering her make-up supplies. "Just remember to give your photographer hell about that sexy killer stare of yours." Su-min added with a teasing laugh.
"See this is why your my make-up artist Su-min, you make me look better in photos and on stage then I do myself." San expressed with a grateful bow making Su-min smile.
"You are most welcome. However, to be honest, I did very little San; you already have that superstar glow, and Amber is certainly a fortunate woman to have all of that. I wish you the very best of luck, and I look forward to collaborating with you again. Su-min responded, eliciting an appreciative smile from San just before the wardrobe crew bustled in for the second half of the photoshoot.
Su-min waved farewell, wheeling out her makeup cart, as the wardrobe crew immediately began their work around him. Stylists brought in a rack of high-fashion attire, including tailored suits, sleek jackets, and pieces designed to capture his intensity on camera. He donned the first outfit—a sophisticated black suit with a fitted vest and a long, dark coat that elegantly draped over his broad shoulders. The photographer arrived, enthusiastically giving directions.
"Flip the coat back—yes, just like that, San! Give me that alluring gaze, let all your female fans know that your undressing them with your eyes. Perfect!" the man instructed, his camera clicking in rapid succession. San complied, however, instead of looking as if he was undressing his fans, he was looking as if he was undressing Amber, creating the perfect smoldering gaze for the cameras.
In the back of his mind he was also thinking about his plans on how he would buy her a ring and propose to her, and what better way to do so than to surprise her when she comes home after her shift. The mere thought of it all fueled him, a silent assurance that their lives, intertwined as they were, were harmonizing in the most beautiful ways.
The photoshoot wrapped up hours later, a blur of outfit changes and commanding shots that left San energized but ready to bolt. He slipped out a side exit, dodging the throng of fans gathered at the main doors, his Mustang idling like a getaway vehicle. The drive to Apgujeong was a short weave through Seoul's afternoon traffic, the city a vibrant mosaic of neon signs and street vendors hawking tteokbokki. San's heart raced—not from the chase, but from the plan solidifying in his mind. A ring. A proposal. A future with Amber, and their little one at the center of it all.
San parked his Mustang along the bustling stretch of Apgujeong Rodeo Street in Seoul's Gangnam district. The jewelry store, a charming establishment nestled between a K-pop merchandise store and a café that carried the subtle aroma of fresh espresso even from outside, exuded an understated elegance that was quite inviting. He took a deep breath, tilting down his ball cap just in case there were any fans nearby, and smoothed down his sleek black leather jacket before stepping out, the significance of the moment enveloping him like a comforting embrace.
Inside, the air was cool and carried the subtle polish of fine metals. Dan, the shopkeeper, hovered nearby with the practiced patience of someone who'd seen a thousand proposals unfold. He was a sturdy man in his fifties, with salt-and-pepper colored hair and eyes that crinkled at the corners like well-worn book pages. He was peering through a microscope at a heart-cut diamond until he spotted San approaching. "Annyeonghaseyo! Looking for something special?" Dan asked, his voice carrying the warmth of a confidant rather than a salesman.
San nodded, his signature dimpled smile breaking through. "Yeah, an engagement ring. For someone who deserves the world." He didn't elaborate—fame had taught him to guard these moments—but Dan seemed to understand.
"Have you purchased an engagement ring before?" Dan inquired, his voice warm and seasoned.
"No, to be Honest, I am quite unsure where to even begin;" San admitted with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Alright not to worry, young man, I will guide you through the process. Is there anything in particular that you admire most about the person your proposing too, anything special like a unique quality that brings this person to your mind?" Dan asked with a kind smile.
"Well, she's got these gorgeous blue eyes that just takes my breath away, and I could seriously spend all day staring into them," San said, smiling as he imagined her captivating blue eyes looking back at him.
"In that case, sapphires would be an excellent choice. We just received a new shipment from Tiffany and Co. last week, and their blue hue is remarkably vibrant. Allow me to retrieve some from the back. In the meantime, do you happen to have a photograph, so we can perfectly match her eye color with the sapphires?" Dan inquired, which brought a smile to San's face as he nodded, knowing precisely which picture to select.
Dan took a set of keys from a hook on the nearby wall and proceeded to the back of the store, while San pulled out his phone from his pocket and navigated through an album of his Instagram pictures until he located the one he had taken of Amber at the zoo in Germany.
This particular picture was undoubtedly one of San's favorites because, to him, she appeared absolutely stunning, almost like a gorgeous European model, her blue eyes mesmerizing as if she were gazing directly into his soul through the screen. San truly adored her, and at that very moment, he knew she was the one he wanted to marry and claim as his own once and for all.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
The hallway was quieter now, the hum of the lights the only sound. Amber leaned against the wall for a moment, her eyes closing as she took a deep breath. The antiseptic scent was strong, but beneath it, she could still smell the faintest trace of baby powder and warmth from the newborn she held just a minute ago. She exhaled slowly, her fingers brushing against the stethoscope around her neck before she moved through the ward with quiet purpose.
"Better than expected," Amber admitted, flipping through the notes she’d scribbled. "Though I think I might’ve spoiled one kid with too much attention today."
The soft beep of monitors and the distant murmur of nurses’ voices blended into the steady rhythm of another long shift. Amber returned to the nurses' station, which was a flurry of activity. Two more charts were stacked neatly in her designated slot. Dr. Kim nodded at her as she approached. "First day’s almost done, Dr. Hoffman. How’d it go?"
Dr. Kim chuckled. "That’s the best part of the job, isn’t it? The little victories."
"You can say that again." Amber smiled, because she loved her job exactly for that reason.
"Well, dear, I'll let you finish up the rest of your patients. Your mother would undoubtedly be very proud of how you managed your first day." Dr. Kim remarked with a warm smile, gently patting Amber on the back.
The sentiment meant a great deal to Amber, particularly coming from a head doctor—and especially the fact about her mother. Amber aspired to imitate her mother's professionalism, yet in her own unique manner. She didn’t want to copy her; she wanted to carve her own path. But the best part was that Dr. Kim had just provided the validation she sought.
"Thanks, Dr. Kim. See you next time," Amber said warmly, waving goodbye as the older woman passed.
Between monitoring the newborn in room 108, Amber made her way to her last two patients for the day. The rest of the afternoon dragged on, each minute stretching just a little too long. The first patient for the afternoon was a routine after birth check—nothing complicated. She knocked on the door before pushing it open, her professional smile already in place.
The Korean woman in the bed appeared both exhausted and content, cradling her newborn while her husband sat beside her, holding her hand and admiring their baby with paternal affection. This scene evoked a profound warmth within Amber, as she yearned to share a similar experience with San—to have him hold her hand after she had given birth to their child, seeing that beloved, proud smile on his face.
Amber went through the motions—checking vitals, asking about breastfeeding, offering reassurance to both parents. All the while, the image of San remained clear in her thoughts. She could even picture San holding his newborn for the very first time, admiring how his Korean eyes gently crinkled at the corners and his dimples appeared as he looked down at the small bundle in his arms with sheer happiness and paternal joy.
She finished the check up and stepped out into the hall, making her way to the next patient of the afternoon. With a gentle knock, Amber stepped inside the room and approached the expecting Mother with a warm greeting, using the Korean San had taught her.
"annyeonghaseyo. jal jinaeyo?" (Hello. How are you doing?)
The expecting mother shifted in the hospital bed before answering. "Hello, Doctor. I'm good just a bit uncomfortable, my IV burns a little. Is there anything you can do?"
Amber gave her a gentle smile with a nod. "Of course."
She reached over to the woman’s IV bag and noticed the drip was going way too fast. Adjusting it carefully, she ensured the expecting mother was comfortable. "Thanks, Doc. That feels much better."
The woman’s grateful smile softened the sterile edges of the room. "You have a lovely accent, by the way," she said in Korean, tilting her head. "Where are you from?"
Amber hesitated, then smiled. "Germany, originally. But I’ve been in Seoul for a couple days now, so I'm just getting used to your language."
Thanks to San’s teaching skills, the conversation flowed easily in Korean—a brief respite from the clinical precision of her work.
"Well, so far, you're catching on quick," the expecting mother said, taking Amber’s hand in hers and giving it a light squeeze of gratitude. "You're doing great, Doctor. Keep up the good work."
"Thank you," Amber replied, smiling at the woman with appreciation. "If you need anything else, don't hesitate to ask."
The woman nodded before releasing Amber's hand from her warm grasp. Amber returned to the sterile hallway, yet her thoughts drifted back to San. The way he talked to her, both through texts and phone calls, implied that she was frequently on his mind, possibly helping him maintain his composure and keep him partially sane during his photoshoot. The low, intimate tone of his voice during their phone call had resonated in her thoughts throughout the entire day.
As Amber walked back toward the nurses' station, she felt a strange mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. Her first day had been long, but it had also been rewarding in ways she hadn’t expected. The thought of San waiting for her at home—sent a warm flutter through her chest.
She glanced at her watch. The shift was finally winding down. All she needed to do was monitor the newborn baby for an hour until night shift rolled in then she could finally return home to her charming boyfriend San, the Man whom she loved the most and long to see all day.
(This Chapter is based on the song Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton and He Can Only Hold Her by Amy Winehouse)
The OBGYN ward was buzzing with its usual morning chaos—chatter, beeping monitors, the shuffle of shoes on linoleum—when Amber finally managed to wrangle her thoughts away from the memory of San’s voice over the phone. That deep, raspy timbre that had dropped to a whisper, the way his words had curled around her like smoke. Telling her through the phone, "Fuck, you’re gonna be so wet for me after this phone call, aren’t you babygirl." The way his laugh had been low and knowing, like he’d already imagined every filthy thing he wanted to do to her. She could still feel the ghost of his breath against her ear, the way his fingers had tangled in her hair when she’d let out that little whimper during their intimate fuck on the couch last night.
She exhaled sharply, adjusting the stethoscope around her neck as she forced herself to focus. Dr. Lena nudged her shoulder. "You good, Dr. Hoffman?"
"Yeah," Amber lied, flashing a quick smile. "Just—a long morning."
Lena smirked. "Mhm. Sure it is, especially when you have Mr. Hotness on your mind."
Amber rolled her eyes, but the heat creeping up her neck gave her away. She was thinking about him, about all the nights she was tangled in his bedsheets, his body moving over hers, pushing and pulling like a promise. She could still feel the slick slide of his cock inside her, the way he’d pinned her wrists above her head whispering in her ear and telling her hotly "You feel so fucking good, baby. Take all of me." Fuck, just thinking about it had her thighs pressing together as she walked.
The nurses’ station was a controlled riot of charts, IV pumps, and the sharp tang of antiseptic. Head Dr. Kim, clapped her hands once to get everyone’s attention. "Alright, listen up. As this is Dr. Hoffman’s first day, she’ll be handling eight patients. The rest of you—ten each." She handed out stacks of charts, and Amber’s fingers brushed against the first one. A quick glance confirmed it was a routine postpartum check.
Lena squeezed her arm. "Good luck, newbie." Then she and Dr. Park disappeared down the hall, leaving Amber alone with her stack of patients and the gnawing ache between her legs that refused to quit.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
The fluorescent lights hummed softly above as Amber walked towards Exam room 104, her pink scrubs swishing with each step. She carried herself with the kind of easy confidence that came from four years of med school. The first patient was a little boy named Min-ho, who’d been brought in for a routine checkup after being diagnosed with a congenital heart defect that was present at birth but was not discovered until later in his life. Upon entering Exam Room 3, Amber noticed the small child seated on his mother's lap, his legs dangling, clutching a stuffed dinosaur closely to his chest.
He possessed endearing, plump cheeks that gave his face a charmingly rounded, potato-like appearance, along with jet-black hair quite similar to San's, and round, almond-shaped eyes that were slightly tilted upward at the outer corners, suggesting korean descent, which further enhanced his adorable look. He looked slightly nervous just by the way he clutched the small stuffed dinosaur tightly in his arms however once he saw Amber his eyes lightened up a bit. Wow Doc! you look like pink fluffy cotton candy!" he declared with childlike astonishment noticing her pink scrubs, and Amber laughed. "Something like that. Hi there,” Amber said, kneeling to his level with a warm smile. “I’m Dr. Hoffman. What’s your name?”
The boy hesitated, then grinned. “Min-ho.”
“Nice to meet you, Min-ho. Wow, what a cool dinosaur! What’s his name?”
Min-ho’s face lit up. “Yong-gi! He protects me.”
“That’s awesome. I bet Yong-gi helps you be really brave, huh?” Amber reached out, gently brushing her fingers against the dinosaur’s scaly back before giving Yong-gi a little nod of respect. “Well, Yong-gi and I are going to check you out today. Sounds good?”
Min-ho nodded eagerly, his grip on Yong-gi tightening just a little as Amber pulled her stethoscope from around her neck. She held it out to him, the pink tubing curling like a ribbon. “Want to listen to your heartbeat first? It’s the most interesting part.”
Min-ho’s eyes grew huge. “Really?”
“Yep. Your heart is like a little drummer inside you, always working hard.” She placed the earpieces in his ears and let him drape the chest piece over his heart. “Go ahead. What do you hear?”
Min-ho pressed the metal disc to his chest, listening intently. His brow furrowed in concentration, then his face broke into a delighted smile. “It goes "thump-thump-thump!”
“That’s right, look at you being smart!" Amber laughed, her voice warm and rich. “That’s your heartbeat. Strong and steady, just like Yong-gi protecting you.”
Min-ho giggled, his small shoulders shaking with laughter. “Yong-gi says hi!”
“Tell Yong-gi I said hi back for me, okay?” Amber said and Min-ho nodded.
Amber smiled as she gently ruffled Min-ho's jet black hair, causing him to giggle before she carefully took back the stethoscope from his tiny grasp. She slipped it around her neck and pulled on a fresh pair of medical gloves, snapping them into place with a practiced flick. “Now, let’s see how brave you are. I need to check your temperature, okay?”
Min-ho nodded, though his grip on Yong-gi loosened just a fraction as Amber reached for the thermometer. She leaned in close, her face just inches from his, and he didn’t flinch. His breath was warm against her cheek as she held the device in place.
“You’re doing so great,” Amber murmured, her eyes flicking to the screen as the numbers climbed. “Almost done.”
Min-ho's mother, a woman with tired but hopeful eyes, watched her son with parental care. Amber caught her gaze and offered a reassuring smile. "His temperature is perfectly normal. There is no fever."
“Thank you,” Min-ho’s mom whispered, her voice thick with relief.
Amber turned back to Min-ho, her hands already moving to his wrist to check his pulse. “How’s your energy today? Still able to jump around like Yong-gi?”
Min-ho nodded vigorously. “I ran all the way here! Mom said I was fast like a cheetah!”
“A cheetah? Wow, that’s impressive.” Amber’s fingers lingered on his wrist, feeling the steady rhythm beneath her touch. She made a mental note of the numbers before letting go. “You’re in great shape. Any coughing? Trouble breathing?”
Min-ho shook his head. “Nope! I’m strong!”
“That you are,” Amber agreed, pulling out her otoscope. “Now, let’s check the back of your throat and those little ears of yours. Open wide like a lion!”
Min-ho obeyed, his mouth stretching wide as Amber peered inside. She moved with practiced ease, her touch gentle but firm. “All clear in here."
Next Amber moved to his ears checking each one thoroughly. "Both ears are clear too. You’ve got superhero hearing.”
Min-ho beamed.
As she finished up, Amber couldn’t help but think about San again—except this time it involved their future baby that was on the way. Deep down she knew San would make such a good dad. The thought of that sending a warm flush through her chest. She could already picture it: San with a child on his hip, making silly faces, as the child laughed at him. The image was so vivid, so real, that she almost laughed aloud.
“Hey Doc?” Min-ho’s small voice pulled her back.
“Hmm?”
“You’re smiling really big.”
Amber blinked, realizing her lips had curled into an involuntary grin. She pressed them together, trying to school her expression into something more professional. “Just happy you’re feeling so well today. Ready for your lollipop?"
Min-ho gasped. “A lollipop? For me?”
“Yep. For being the bravest patient Yong-gi's ever protected.” Amber reached into the jar on the counter and plucked out a bright red sucker, handing it to him with a wink.
Min-ho clutched it like it was made of gold. "Thanks doc!"
His mom chuckled, shaking her head. “You certainly got a way with kids.”
Amber shrugged, though she felt a swell of pride at the words. “I guess I just speak their language.”
"Thank you again Dr. Hoffman, you made the visit to the doctor less scary for him." Min-ho's mother said with gratitude.
"It's no trouble at all; please take care now," Amber stated with a polite nod before exiting the exam room.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Just as Amber finished signing Min-ho's discharge paperwork at the nurses' station, a young nurse named Jisoo called her over.
"Excuse me, Dr. Hoffman, would you care to explain why you are being visited by several handsome men?" she inquired with an intrigued tone in her voice.
"Huh? I'm not expecting any visitors? Wait... Several handsome men you say? Shit!"" Amber finally exclaimed, realizing who the visitors were. "Let's just say they are my friends for now, shall we? Where might they be at the moment?" Amber inquired, eager to locate them before anyone else did, especially given their celebrity status.
"It turns out Head Doctor Kim is also acquainted with them. She's asked them to wait in the conference room until you came back from lunch," Jisoo explained, prompting a sigh of relief from Amber. "Oh, thank goodness!" Amber expressed with a relieved sigh. "Thank you, Jisoo." Amber gratefully added heading towards the conference room.
"Wait, I'm still curious about who they are; everyone keeps telling me they're extremely hot!" Jisoo called out as Amber began walking away. "I'll tell you later!" Amber replied before disappearing around the corner of the nurses' station. "Now, to confront these handsome devils." Amber murmured to herself as she made her way down the white pristine hall towards the conference room.
As Amber pushed open the heavy conference-room door, the sudden hush that greeted her felt oddly theatrical. Seven pairs of eyes snapped in her direction, and the only sound for a heartbeat was the soft click of the latch behind her. Mingi broke the silence first, his grin wide enough to swallow the room. “Hey! Hot girl alert!”
His laugh collapsed almost immediately when Amber folded her arms and tapped her foot like a metronome counting out every awkward second. Hongjoong cleared his throat, voice pitched too high. “Surprise…”
Amber’s eyebrows rose, cool and unimpressed. “Oh, it was quite a surprise. I appreciate the visit, truly, but I haven’t exactly mentioned to my colleagues that you’re all K-pop stars, not that they would believe me for that matter.” Amber murmuring the last part.
Jongho shrugged, unbothered. “Believe me, they probably already know.”
“Evidently one of my nurses doesn’t,” Amber countered.
"WHAT!" All seven band members exclaimed with collective gasp that echoed around the table. Wooyoung clutched his chest. “I feel offended.”
Seonghwa pressed a hand over his heart. “Deeply wounded.”
Yunho frowned. “Does that lady live under a rock or something?”
Yeosang waved a dramatic hand. “Clearly she must be one of those chicks who don’t believe in the internet.”
Jongho sighed. “Anyways, we assumed everyone already knew who we were, so we just stopped by to visit you.”
"Uh huh... did San text you all and tell you to check up on me while he's getting his photoshoot done?" Amber questioned, clearly unconvinced.
"No..." Jongho scoffed, but a look from Amber indicated she wasn't buying it.
"Yes..." Jongho sighed.
"But Jongho's right, we really wanted to see you. Since it's your first day, we wanted to make sure everything was going smoothly for you because, to be honest, we were worried." Hongjoong interjected, trying to smooth things over with his usual leadership. Little did Amber know, they were worried because San had already texted them about her condition.
"We also thought that maybe by seeing some familiar faces it will give you some pep for the rest of the day." Yunho added, offering her a supportive fist pump accompanied by a wink.
"And we brought you an iced latte since San mentioned you enjoy those for an energy boost, during your shifts." Mingi added.
"Okay, you had me at 'iced latte.' Give me that," Amber said, reaching for it, but Mingi pulled it away.
"Nah, what do you say?" Mingi teased, holding the latte out of her reach, causing Amber to inwardly curse herself for being small and short compared to him.
"Please," Amber pouted.
"Well a simple thank you would have been better, but who could resist such an adorable pout? Here's your latte." Mingi said, lowering the latte to her level, which she gratefully accepted once within reach, taking a few refreshing sips and humming with approval at its delightful taste after a long day's work.
"Thank you for the latte and for checking on me. You all are truly wonderful," Amber expressed with profound gratitude in her voice.
"You are most welcome. Anything for ATEEZ's favorite lady," Hongjoong expressed, exuding his charm as he gently tipped her chin with a charming wink. Amber, however, understood that this gesture did not overstep the boundaries of her relationship with San because they all knew who she belonged to. They all found that out in Germany after they all had their way with her. San would share her love with his bandmates but never let them have her completely. That was only for him and her alone.
"Has your first day at work been pleasant so far?" Hongjoong inquired, and Amber responded with a nod.
"It's been a little hectic, but not unpleasant. I just had a delightful encounter with a five-year-old who thought I looked like cotton candy due to the pink scrubs San got me." Amber shared with a cheerful laugh before taking another sip of her iced latte.
"I must admit, now that she mentions it, she does look like fluffy cotton candy," Wooyoung chuckled.
"Do you recall when San-ah colored his hair cotton candy pink? Doesn't that shade remind you of her scrubs?" Wooyoung asked, and everyone laughed in agreement.
"That's probably why San chose them for her," Jongho added with a laugh until a call interrupted the merriment in the room as the nurse paged for Dr. Hoffman.
"Okay guys you heard her pager." Hongjoong said respectfully, clapping his hands to grab their attention.
"I guess that means it's time for us to bounce." Mingi added.
"Alright, see you guys around some other time." Amber said as one by one each member filed out placing a friendly yet chaste kiss on Amber's cheek as they passed by. Wooyoung slipped in a quick hug before running out and catching up with the rest of his bandmates.
Amber quickly stepped out of the conference room adjusting the hair tie on her wrist, a simple black loop that always felt like an extension of her hand, ready for the pull and twist of a long shift. Her scrubs hung loose, prioritizing the ease of movement over anything fussy, a choice that let her focus on what mattered: the tiny lives under her care. The memory of San's hands carefully braiding her hair in the en-suite bathroom flickered through her mind like a warm current; he had taken his time, fingers gentle, the scent of rose petals still clinging to her skin hours later. She touched the tie again, the small action grounding her in the space between who she was, here without him, and who she was when she was alone with him.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
The fluorescent lights of the OBGYN ward hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow over the linoleum floors as Amber navigated the hallway with quiet efficiency until she reached the nurses Station again where Jisoo handed her the next patient's chart.
Amber reviewed the chart, noting that it was a routine ultrasound, a procedure she was well-versed in, having performed hundreds previously. She then proceeded down the hallway to attend to the patient.
The ultrasound room smelled faintly of lavender and disinfectant, two scents that usually calmed Amber, but today her pulse hummed like a live wire. Mrs. Mangjeol was already on the table, her sleek jet black waves fanned across the paper cover, one hand resting on her round belly as if she were already cradling the life inside. Amber rolled the ultrasound machine closer, the wheels squeaking just enough to make Mrs. Mangjeol grin.
“Hi, Mrs. Mangjeol,” Amber said, her voice soft but steady. “I’m Dr. Hoffman. Nice to meet you.”
“You’re late,” Mrs. Mangjeol accused playfully, though her eyes sparkled with warmth. “I was starting to think you’d abandoned me."
Amber laughed, snapping on fresh gloves with a snap. “I wouldn't dream of it. Besides, today is a special day for you. Your baby's growing and you get to see it for the first time.
Yeah, I know I should have had an ultrasound done a lot sooner but it's hard for me to get time off of work, can't wait until my maternity leave comes around." Mrs. Mangjeol expressed.
"That's perfectly understandable. At least you're here now getting it done." Amber said with a patient friendly smile.
Amber squeezed gel onto her fingers, the cool texture a familiar contrast against her warm skin. Pressing her palm to Mrs. Mangjeol abdomen, she felt the gentle rise and fall of breath beneath her touch. The woman’s skin was soft, the kind of warmth that made Amber think of lazy Sunday mornings and slow kisses with San.
"How are you feeling today?” Amber asked.
Mrs. Mangjeol exhaled, her shoulders relaxing. “Tired,” she admitted with a laugh. “But I'm excited. This little one can’t come soon enough.”
Amber nodded, already guiding the wand over the slick surface of Mrs. Mangjeol's belly. The ultrasound machine hummed to life, its rhythmic *swish-swish* filling the small room like a heartbeat of its own. On the screen, the black expanse flickered, then resolved into the unmistakable shape of a baby—tiny limbs, a curled fist, the flicker of a heartbeat that pulsed in time with the machine’s rhythm.
“Everything looks perfect,” Amber murmured, her eyes tracking the screen as she pointed out details. “Strong heartbeat, good size. He’s even got a good jawline. I think I see a future K-pop idol in the making.”
Mrs. Mangjeol burst out laughing, her hand flying to her chest. “Hey, you think my baby will look like San from ATEEZ?”
Amber's fingers momentarily hesitated, allowing Mrs. Mangjeol to notice a subtle shift in her expression as she unintentionally mentioned San, Amber's boyfriend. Nevertheless, for the benefit of the patient, Amber quickly composed herself, her lips curving into a smile that appeared perhaps a little too radiant and overly warm. “With a fine jawline like that, Mrs. Mangjeol,” Amber said, her voice dropping into a teasing tone she usually reserved for her boyfriend, “I have no doubt he’ll be the next Choi San.”
Mrs. Mangjeol’s laughter deepened, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh, doctor, you flatter me.”
Amber shifted the wand slightly, angling the screen so Mrs. Mangjeol could get a better look. The woman’s breath hitched as she leaned forward, her fingers tightening around the edge of the table. “Oh! I can see him! Look at that little nose. He’s so cute!”
Amber’s chest warmed, that familiar swell of pride and tenderness rising in her throat. This was the part of her job she loved most—the way life unfolded right before her eyes, the way she got to be a small part of it. She finished the scan quickly, printing out a few photos for Mrs. Mangjeol to take home to her husband.
As the woman dressed, Amber’s mind wandered, drifting back to fantasyland of San. She fantasized about the sound of his voice, low and rough, as he whispered in her ear: “I want you to ride me, princess. Show me how bad you want it.” riding San was something she always wanted to do on him but never had enough courage to attempt it but someday when she finally feels confident enough she wants to do it on him. Just the fantasy of that alone sent a shiver down her spine, pooling heat low in her belly. She could almost feel the weight of him beneath her, the way his hands would grip her hips, the way his breath would hitch when she finally gave in to the ache between her thighs.
She shifted uncomfortably, pressing her thighs together as discreetly as she could. *Focus, Amber.*
“Any questions before you go?” Amber asked, handing Mrs. Mangjeol the ultrasound images.
“Not a one,” Mrs. Mangjeol said, beaming. “You’re amazing, Dr. Hoffman. Thanks for giving me a good laugh today. I needed that.”
Amber’s cheeks warmed, a pleased smile tugging at her lips. “Not a problem, Mrs. Mangjeol. Have a great day.”
The woman left, her steps lighter than when she’d arrived, and Amber was alone in the dimly lit room. She cleaned up quickly, her movements efficient but her thoughts anything but. The fantasy of San wouldn’t leave her alone—the way his hands would feel on her skin, the way his mouth would taste, the way he’d look at her like she was something precious.
She couldn’t wait to see him again.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
By the time afternoon rolled around, Amber had just finished up with her Sixth patient for the day when her stomach began to growl, reminding her that it was Lunch time.
Amber proceeded to the locker room and retrieved the pink lunchbox that San had prepared. At that moment, it felt like a lifeline, for she felt hungry for a change, however, Amber wasn't worried since she knew it was a common symptom of pregnancy and she also knew that she wasn’t only eating for one, she was eating for two now. Amber made her way down the hall and into the break room, the hum of the hospital fading into the background as she pulled out the container. Inside, she found a neatly arranged bento box—rice, grilled fish, cut vegetables that she could tell San chopped himself judging by how they were uniquely cut, and a small note tucked beneath the lid.
"For my favorite doctor. Don’t work too hard. And make sure you remember to eat especially for our little one. You're comforting mountain - San
Amber gently traced the letters, a smile gracing her lips, and discreetly placed San's note into the pocket of her lab coat when the break room door opened.
"Mind if I join you?"
She turned to see Dr. Park leaning against the doorframe, a coffee cup in hand. He looked effortlessly cool, even in scrubs, his hair slightly disheveled as if he’d been running his hands through it again.
Amber gestured to the empty chair beside her. "Not at all."
He slid into the seat, across from her taking a sip of his coffee however his eyes remained on Amber.
"So," he said, placing his coffee cup on the table. "How’s your first day going?"
"Better than I expected," she admitted. "Though I think I’ve already lost count of how many times I’ve been called ‘Doctor' in the last few hours."
Dr. Park chuckled. "Welcome to the club. You get used to it after a while."
Amber studied him for a moment, the way the morning light caught the sharp angles of his face. "You know," she said, "You and Lena are actually the first ones I’ve met here who actually talk and look at me like I’m a normal person."
He raised an eyebrow. "And what do the others do?"
She smirked. "Treat me like I’m some fragile thing that’s going to break if they look at me wrong."
Dr. Park’s laugh was low and genuine. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think you can handle a lot more than they give you credit for."
Amber’s chest warmed at his words, at the way his eyes held hers without flinching. There was something about him—something confident, yet not arrogant. Like he knew exactly who he was, and felt no need to demonstrate it to others, much like San's demeanor.
The microwave beeped, and Amber turned to retrieve the bento box san had meticulously prepared. When she sat back down, Dr. Park was watching her.
"So," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Tell me about yourself, Dr. Hoffman. Where are you from?"
Amber hesitated for just a second. She didn’t usually like talking about her past, but there was something friendly about Dr. Park that made her want to open up. "I grew up in Berlin Germany," she said. "But I just recently moved here to Seoul and have been here for a couple days now."
"Ah," he said, nodding. "And how did you end up wanting to be an OBGYN?"
She smiled faintly. "Long story."
He grinned. "I’ve got time."
Amber exhaled, forking a piece of grilled fish from the bento box. "I’ve always been drawn to medicine—helping people, making a difference. But Obstetrics and gynecology was my true calling just like my Mom…" She trailed off, searching for the right words. "It’s personal, you know? The idea of bringing life into the world, of being there for women during one of the most vulnerable times in their lives. It’s powerful."
Dr. Park’s expression softened. "That’s beautiful."
Amber shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. "What about you? Why did you want to be an OBGYN?"
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Same reason, I suppose. My mother was a midwife, and she used to tell me stories about the women she helped—how strong they were, how resilient. I wanted to be part of that."
Amber’s heart squeezed. "That’s amazing."
Dr. Park’s gaze held hers, and for a moment, they lingered a bit too long until his pager buzzed, and he glanced down, breaking the moment. "Sorry," he said, offering her an apologetic smile. "Duty calls."
Amber nodded with a warm smile taking a bite from the gilled fish she forked just a minute ago.
Dr. Park stood, draining the last of his coffee before tossing the cup in the trash. "It was really nice meeting you, Dr. Hoffman. I have a feeling we’re going to work well together."
Amber smiled up at him, "Likewise, Dr. Park."
He hesitated for just a second before turning toward the door. "Oh, and Dr. Hoffman?"
She looked up.
"If you ever need a tour guide around the hospital—or anything else—don’t hesitate to ask me." Dr. Park offered kindly.
Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind," she replied softly.
Dr. Park held her gaze for a long moment before flashing her one last smile and disappearing down the hall.
Amber exhaled, pressing a hand to her chest as if she could steady her racing heart.
What the hell was that, I clearly love San so why is my heart beating like this? She thought to herself.
She had no idea what Dr. Park’s intentions were, but one fact remained clear—she loved San and that definitely wasn't going to change.
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(This Chapter is based on the song Haven't Met You Yet by Michael Buble)
The fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway buzzed overhead as all three doctors exited the exam room after checking a young Korean mother who was in for a routine prenatal check-up. At a university hospital it was customary for the head doctor to take over the rest leaving the team to wander the halls until Dr. Kim was finished and ready for the next set of rounds.
Amber adjusted the stethoscope around her neck, her fingers brushing against the cool metal before she tucked it back into place. Now with Dr. Kim finishing up another chart had been closed, another reminder of why Amber had chosen this path. But as she fell into step beside Lena, the rhythmic rubber squeak of their shoes against the linoleum filling the space between them, her mind wandered to other things. Things like how San was doing, was he missing her as much as she was missing him, and was he able to keep his composure since she knew about how hard he would get at times just thinking about her. Just the thought of that alone made Amber’s cheeks warm.
Just as her thoughts were getting good a young nurse hurried toward them, her sneakers squeaking against the floor as she skidded to a stop. “Dr. Park!” she called, breathless. “One of your patients is in labor—we need you in delivery.”
Dr. Park's eyes lit up like he’d just been handed the keys to the city. He turned to Lena, his grin infectious. “Well, Lena, here goes nothing.”
Lena clapped him on the shoulder, her own excitement mirroring his. “You’ve got this, Dr. Park. Show your dad you’re not a quack.”
Dr. Park responded with a dramatic fist pump, saying “Right on, fighting!”
Amber watched him go, laughing at how stupidly happy he looked as he darted down the hall "God, he’s ridiculous."
But then Lena was tugging her arm, pulling her toward an empty Exam room now that Dr. Park was gone and she could officially talk to Amber freely without feeling like she was putting her co-worker on the spot.
"Dr. Lena, what is it?" Amber asked curiously, her brow furrowed.
While Dr. Park is busy, do you have a moment Dr. Hoffman?" Amber nodded, a sudden nervousness stirring within her stomach as she stepped into the exam room with Lena.
The exam room was smaller than she expected, the kind of space where two people could either feel like they were sharing a secret or trapped in a closet. Amber’s fingers curled around the edge of her lab coat, the fabric crisp beneath her touch. The scent of antiseptic clung to the air, sharp and sterile, but beneath it, something softer lingered—lavender, maybe, from the hand sanitizer Lena had used moments ago. It was the kind of detail that made the room feel less like a clinical space and more like a place where real things happened.
Lena turned to her, her expression shifting from professional to something warmer, like sunlight breaking through clouds. "I just wanted to say—I’m impressed," she said, and Amber exhaled, the tension in her shoulders unraveling just a little. "You handled that first exam with grace. It’s not easy being the new face here, but you’ve done it beautifully."
Amber blinked, surprised by how much those words settled into her chest. "Thank you," she said, her voice softer than she intended, however Amber could tell there was more Lena wanted to say.
Lena’s gaze lingered on her face, thoughtful, like she was trying to solve a puzzle. Then, gently, she added, "And… I also wanted to ask about how you are truly feeling. Considering your condition." Amber understood her implication. The pregnancy. The secret she’d been carrying was like a fragile thing in her pocket, waiting for the right moment to pull it out and what better time to do it than now when lena gave her the chance. Amber swallowed hard, her fingers tightened around the edges of her lab coat. "I’m processing," she admitted. "It’s a lot. But I know my boyfriend will be there for me."
Lena’s hand found her arm, warm and steady. "It’s good you have your boyfriend to support you, not very many women get that. However, it can be particularly helpful to receive feminine guidance during this time in your life as well. Please know that I am also here for you, should you require assistance, guidance, or simply just a listening ear."
Amber felt a lump in her throat. She had not fully grasped the extent of her need to hear those words; with her mother's passing, she had been without a source of feminine guidance, but now, she genuinely had another woman to admire and seek support from, and that woman was Lena. "Thank you, Dr. Lena."
Lena smiled, a small, knowing smile. "Please feel free to address me as Lena if you wish; there's no need for formality,"
"Very well, and you may call me Amber,"
"Amber," Lena repeated, like she was testing the weight of it. "That’s a lovely name."
"Thank you," Amber replied graciously.
"Well now with your pregnancy in mind, would you be open to an exam to determine how far along you are?" Lena asked.
"I would like to know for certain, but I wouldn't want to do it without my boyfriend present. I already felt quite bad after I kept the pregnancy from him for so long, and I wouldn't want to complicate things further by excluding him from this," Amber explained.
Lena’s fingers squeezed hers reassuringly before responding, "How about we do two exams? One for you now, and then we can schedule another with your boyfriend. How does that sound?"
Amber’s eyes widened. "You’d do that?"
"Of course. We’re colleagues." Lena’s smile was warm, genuine. "And friends, I hope."
Amber didn’t hesitate. She leaned forward, wrapping Lena in a quick, grateful hug. "Of course we're friends and thank you so much, Lena; this truly means a great deal to me." she said against Lena's shoulder.
Lena patted her back, her touch light but lingering. When Amber pulled away, Lena’s hands stayed on her arms for just a second longer than necessary before disengaging and retrieving something from the cabinet behind Amber. "Here, I’ll step out while you change," she said, handing her a hospital gown. "Take your time."
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Amber alone in the quiet room. She exhaled, taking off her scrubs and slipping into the hospital gown pressing a hand to her stomach. The gown felt flimsy in her hands, but the weight of what was about to happen settled over her like a second skin.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow over the exam room as Amber adjusted the hospital gown around herself. The stirrups felt cold against her skin, and she exhaled slowly, trying to steady her racing thoughts. "Why am I so nervous?" She had performed these exams countless times—had guided patients through the same procedure with reassuring smiles. But this was different. This was her.
The door clicked open, and Dr. Lena stepped back inside, her expression warm but professional. She had pulled her dark hair back into a neat ponytail so that it was out of her way while she worked. The faint scent of lavender—her signature hand sanitizer—drifted toward Amber as she moved to the counter, washing her hands with deliberate care.
"You okay?" Lena asked, glancing over her shoulder at Amber who she could clearly see was nervous. Her eyes held a quiet understanding, the kind that made Amber feel both seen and safe.
Amber nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Just… nervous and processing everything at the same time."
Lena turned, her hands still glistening with sanitizer as she dried them on a paper towel. "Don’t be nervous. I assure you I'm only here to help, not judge you however, Processing is good. It means you’re thinking it through." She tossed the towel into the bin and stepped closer, her voice dropping slightly. "And for the record, you are a hell of a strong woman for the way you are handling this pregnancy so far. I’m impressed."
Amber’s chest warmed at the praise. "Thanks. Means a lot, helps me feel more at ease."
Lena’s gaze lingered, her fingers brushing Amber’s wrist in a fleeting touch—a gesture so natural it might have gone unnoticed by anyone else. But Amber felt the warmth of it, the quiet support in the contact. "Now, let’s get started."
Amber swallowed hard as Lena positioned herself between the stirrups, the paper gown rustling as she draped the blanket over Amber’s legs. The first touch was gentle but clinical, professional. But then—
"Just a little pressure here," Lena murmured, her fingers adjusting the speculum. "You might feel some discomfort, but it’s normal."
Amber bit her lip, her fingers curling into the exam table. "Focus on breathing. In and out." But then Lena’s other hand settled on her thigh, grounding her, anchoring her to the moment. The touch wasn’t clinical. It was supportive.
"You’re doing great," Lena murmured, her voice soft but steady.
Amber exhaled, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. *She knows. She understands.* The realization settled over her like a warm blanket.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
The pelvic exam passed in a blur of sensations—cool gel, careful hands, Lena’s occasional murmurs of reassurance. But then the conversation shifted, and Amber found herself relaxing into the rhythm of it.
"So," Lena said, her hands still steady as she adjusted the ultrasound probe, "what's your boyfriend's name?"
Amber was somewhat hesitant, as she pondered whether merely uttering San's name would reveal his identity as a renowned K-pop star. Nevertheless, at this moment, Amber placed her trust in Lena and decided to take a chance.
"San. His name is San." Amber said with a smile for just saying his name brought her sheer happiness.
"San huh?" Do you know what his name means in Korean?" Dr. Lena asked with a smile and Amber nodded.
"He told me once that his name means mountain." Amber replied.
"Exactly, In Korean beliefs, if you believe in that sort of thing, means he is a massive, unshakable mountain that can withstand any challenge, while also serving as a supportive, comforting, hill and a safe resting place for those in need." Dr. Lena said as if she was telling a grand story which made Amber laugh.
"How’s San taking the news since you've told him about the pregnancy?" Dr. Lena asked out of caring curiosity.
Amber’s breath hitched. She hadn’t expected that question—not yet. But Lena’s tone was gentle, curious, not prying and Amber knew that Lena was just asking from a professional patient to doctor dynamic rather than an intrusive one.
Amber exhaled slowly. "He’s… been amazing, incredible even, supporting me the best way he knows possible. I think he’s still processing it too, but he’s not discrediting it or running away from it. Not like I feared."
Lena hummed, her focus shifting to the monitor as she scanned through the grainy image. "Good. That’s what you want in a partner."
Amber’s heart squeezed. "Partner." The word felt heavier now, more significant. "Yeah. I just hope he doesn’t feel…blindsided. Like I should’ve known I was pregnant sooner, I'm an OBGYN afterall.
Lena’s hand stilled on the probe, her gaze flicking up to meet Amber’s. "You’re human, Amber. Doctors miss things too. Don’t be too hard on yourself."
"She’s right." Amber thought to herself as she swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion.
The silence stretched between them, comfortable, filled with the quiet hum of the ultrasound machine. Then Lena’s fingers brushed against Amber’s again—not a medical touch this time, but something softer, almost accidental. But Amber felt it. The warmth of it. The friendly intention behind it.
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The exam room felt smaller suddenly, the air thicker. Lena’s hands were still on her, but the clinical detachment had faded, replaced by something else—something that made Amber’s pulse quicken."
Lena’s voice was low, almost hesitant. "Like I said before, if you ever need someone to talk to—about anything—I’m here."
Amber’s fingers tightened around the edge of the table. "I know."
"Would you like to know the Gender now or wait until San can join you?" Lena asked respectfully.
"I rather wait for San." Amber replied with no hesitation which brought a knowing smile to lena's face.
Lena’s gaze held hers for a long moment, her thumb tracing a slow, absent pattern on Amber’s skin. Then, with a soft smile, she pulled away, breaking the moment. "Alright, let’s see if we can finally spot your baby here."
Amber nodded, forcing herself to focus on the screen as Lena shifted the probe, the image sharpening into something more defined. A tiny flicker. A heartbeat.
"There it is." Dr. Lena said shifting the screen towards Amber so she could see the grainy image of her baby better.
Amber’s breath hitched, her eyes stinging. "This is real. San and I are actually having a baby together."
Lena's voice was gentle, almost reverent. "The heartbeat is strong, and everything appears healthy. However, the baby is quite small for 16 weeks, which does place you at a higher risk for premature birth. Nevertheless, there is no need to be overly concerned. Mothers of smaller stature, such as yourself, Amber, often tend to have smaller babies. In most cases, the baby grows to a normal size before the due date. We will simply need to monitor the baby closely to ensure proper growth, so that if there is a premature birth, we can detect it early."
Amber swallowed hard, her throat tight with overwhelming emotion. "Thank you."
Lena met her gaze again, her expression warm, her thumb brushing over Amber’s knuckles in a fleeting touch. "You’re welcome."
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
The exam wrapped up, the hospital gown rustling as Amber sat up, her legs unsteady as she swung them over the side of the table. Lena handed her a tissue to clean up the gel from the ultrasound, her movements efficient but careful.
"You did great," Lena said, her voice warm. "And don’t worry about the second exam with San. We’ll make sure he’s there."
Amber smiled, her heart lighter than it had been in weeks. "You’re the best."
Lena’s laughter was soft, genuine. "Flatterer." She held up a hand. "But seriously, if you need anything—just ask."
Amber nodded for at that moment she knew she wasn't a lone wolf anymore, she had San, and now a good friend Lena. Amber stepped off the exam table, her legs steady now, her mind clearer. She pulled her scrubs back on, her fingers lingering on the fabric over her baby bump smiling to herself for just the thought of knowing her and San created this little one together thrilled her.
When she turned back, Lena was waiting by the door, her lab coat slightly rumpled, her hair coming loose from its ponytail. She looked exhausted but happy. Like she’d done something helpful and important.
"Ready?" Lena asked, her smile soft.
Amber nodded, stepping forward. "Yeah."
Lena held the door open for her, their shoulders brushing as they stepped into the hallway. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting long shadows, but neither of them seemed to mind. Dr. Park was still stuck in the delivery room so in the meantime Lena turned to Amber, her eyes bright. "You know, I was thinking…we should definitely grab a coffee at the café in the lobby and take a short break in the courtyard while waiting for Dr. Park. Care to join?"
Amber smiled, her voice light but warm. "Sure I'd like that."
Lena’s grin deepened, her hand brushing against Amber’s arm again—just for a second, just enough to make Amber feel like she had a friend to count on.
"Good," Lena said, her voice low. "Let's go, I need the energy boost."
As they proceeded down the corridor, Amber became aware of a realization that brought a comforting warmth to her heart. She was not merely enduring this experience alone. No, Instead, she was triumphing over it alongside San and her newfound friends.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
The cherry blossoms drifted lazily in the springtime breeze, their pale pink petals catching the sunlight like scattered confetti. The hospital courtyard was quiet, just the distant hum of traffic and the occasional chirp of a sparrow breaking the stillness. Amber sat on the bench and leaned her back against the rough bark of the tree, taking a sip of her coffee when her phone rang. It was San. Amber almost choked on her coffee when she saw his nickname "Sannie" flash on her phone screen, for she was not expecting him to FaceTime her at work.
"Do you mind if I take this? It's my boyfriend." Amber asked and Lena graciously nodded.
"Of course. He's probably checking in on you because of you know what." Lena teased patting Amber's baby bump which made Amber's eyes widened in shock.
"Shh....Lena! nobody else around here knows about it yet." Amber said.
"Oh, right," Lena remarked, miming zipping her mouth shut and throwing away the key before taking another sip of her coffee, just as Amber cleared her throat and answered the phone.
Lena had got up and wandered off to give her some privacy, though Amber knew damn good and well that her new friend was probably lurking just out of sight, eavesdropping with that mischievous glint in her eye.
San's handsome face, that she long to see all morning, flashed on her phone screen when she answered the call. Amber could tell he was still at the studio due to the pristine white backdrop behind and the professional lighting illuminating his chiseled god-like features perfectly.
San's handsome face, which she had been eager to see all morning, appeared on her phone screen when she answered the call. Amber could tell that he was still at the studio, given the immaculate white backdrop behind him and the professional lighting that perfectly illuminated his finely chiseled, god-like features.
"What’s up, Sannie, miss me already?" Amber said first her voice soft yet laced with a teasing lilt.
“yes, You’re killing me, Princess,” San murmured, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly register that made her thighs clench. The sound of his breath, ragged and uneven, crackled through the phone. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
Amber bit her lip, her fingers tightening around the phone. “Awe, my poor Sannie having dirty thoughts about me again.” she teased, her voice dropping to a whisper. “you know Sannie, I rather have you show me those dirty thoughts of yours instead of telling me about them.”
A dark chuckle rumbled in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “Oh, I will. Tonight Princess, I’m going to make you scream my name so loud the neighbors will think I’m murdering you.”
She laughed, the sound breathy and needy. “Promises, promises.”
“You doubt me, princess?” His voice was playful, but there was an edge to it—something hungry, something desperate. “I’ve been hard ever since you first cross my mind this morning. You have no idea how many times I’ve had to adjust myself today during my photoshoot just because I was thinking about you.”
Amber’s pulse spiked. She could picture it—San in some high-end studio, his tailored slacks straining against the thick outline of his cock, his fingers brushing over himself as he tried to focus on whatever photoshoot he was stuck in. Just the thought of it made her mouth water and her cheeks burn.
"Fuck, you’re gonna be so wet for me once this phone call is over, aren’t you." He laughed low and knowing.
"Shit! How'd he know." Amber thought and self-consciously pressed her thighs together but was completely amazed just by how well San knew her body and how it reacted to him.
"San," she softly uttered his name over the phone, and she could hear his pleased hum, a response to how sweetly her voice sounded saying his name like that.
Amber's free hand absentmindedly drifting down to press against her stomach. The baby bump was still small, barely noticeable under her scrubs, but the reminder of it sent a fresh wave of heat through her. “I miss you Sannie.”
“fuck, I know you do baby, I miss you too,” he growled. “I miss the way you taste. The way you sound when I’m inside you. The way your pussy clenches around my dick like it’s trying to milk me dry, god, you're so intoxicating princess.”
Her breath hitched. “Fuck.”
“That’s the plan, Princess.” san teased after hearing her say "fuck" breathlessly over the phone.
She could hear the smirk in his voice, and god, she wanted to wipe it off his face—with her lips, with her teeth, with her tongue. The ache between her legs was becoming unbearable. She shifted, pressing her thighs more tightly together, but it only made the throbbing worse.
“You’re evil Sannie.” she teased, her voice carrying a seductive lilt.
“And you love it.”
She did. God, she really did.
Okay, I'll give you a break since you earned it. I'm done teasing you for now, but seriously, how's your first day going, Doc? San asked.
Amber leaned back against the bench, a smile spreading across her face. "It’s…good. Different. But good." She hesitated, then added, "but I can’t wait to come home to my Sannie once my shift is over."
There was a pause, and then his voice, softer now. "Same, princess. I've been thinking about you every second. But I know you're doing amazing things, I can tell."
She closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her. "How can you tell?"
"Because I know you so well princess." he said simply. "And because Mr. Kang told me how you walked into that hospital this morning, like you owned the place."
Amber laughed, the sound light and free. "You’re ridiculous."
"Maybe," he admitted. "But it's also true."
She sighed, her fingers tracing the edge of the phone. "I should get back. My rounds are about to start soon."
"Alright then, Go save the world, Doctor," he said, his voice warm with affection.
"I will," she promised before quickly adding "I Love you San."
There was a brief pause and she could hear San's charming laugh before he spoke "Love you too princess."
Then she hung up, she felt a warmth in her chest that had nothing to do with the springtime sun. It was him—his voice, his words, the way he always seemed to know exactly what she needed.
Lena reappeared just as Amber ended the call, her eyebrows raised in amusement. "So...that sounded hotly intense. Like...holy shit girl, what a man you got there. No wonder you're pregnant. Like if I were you, I would walk around naked all the time." Lena said in hushed tones so no one heard the pregnant part.
Amber groaned, pressing her forehead against the tree. “fuck I feel like I need a cold shower now.”
Lena laughed, nudging her shoulder. “Or a hot one, with a certain hot ass man in it."
“Don’t tempt me.”
“Too late.” Lena grinned, looping her arm through Amber’s as they headed back inside. “damn girl. You’re already flushed. And not just from the coffee.”
Amber swatted at her, but she couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “Shut up.”
(This Chapter is based on the song Rather Be by Clean Bandit feat. Jess Glynne and Syphany by Clean Bandit feat. Zara Larsson)
The bathroom was still thick with the heat and steam from their shower, the air clinging to their skin like a lover’s whisper. San stepped out of the glass enclosure first, his body slick with water that trailed down his toned back like a slow, teasing caress. He grabbed a towel that was draped over the rack, and slung it low around his hips, the fabric barely containing the powerful man that he was. Water droplets glistened on his shoulders, catching the light like scattered diamonds.
Amber was still in the shower, leaning up against the slick wall where San had her pinned earlier. She worked to settle her breathing, after San basically fucked her to high heaven. Once her breathing slowed to a manageable rhythm she stepped out, her fingers lingering on the edge of the shower door for she could still feel the way San’s hands had gripped her waist, the way his mouth had claimed hers with a hunger that left her breathless. But now, standing here, the cool air of the bathroom teasing her damp skin, she felt a fresh rush of desire coil low in her stomach.
San was at the sink, his back to her as he ran a hand through his damp jet black hair. The ends curled slightly at the nape of his neck, and Amber bit her bottom lip, watching the way his muscles shifted beneath his skin. Every motion was deliberate, every movement a quiet performance of strength and grace. She loved the way he moved—like he owned the space he took up, like the world bent just a little to accommodate him.
Then he turned, catching her gaze in the fogged-over mirror. That smirk—infuriatingly confident, the kind that made her stomach flip and her pulse quicken. "Like what you see, princess?" His voice was low, rough with amusement, and Amber felt the heat rise in her cheeks.
She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she secured a towel around herself, the fabric barely big enough to cover her essential parts, and stepped up behind him. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she pressed herself against his slick back, her fingertips tracing the toned lines of his abs. San’s breath hitched, his eyes fluttering closed as a deep, pleased hum rumbled in his chest.
Amber loved this—loved the way his body reacted to her touch. Everytime her fingertips brushed just the right spot, his abs clenched and quivered beneath her fingers, like he was fighting the urge to pull her closer. Like he was already imagining the next step.
"Princess…" San’s voice dropped to a husky timbre, rough with restraint. "If you keep touching me there like that, I’m gonna have to drag you back into the shower with me."
Amber didn’t stop. Instead, she pressed a gentle kiss to the middle of his back, her lips lingering against his warm skin. She could feel the way his muscles tensed beneath her mouth, the way his breath hitched. When she pulled away, she teased San by purposely slipping the towel off her body and using it to dry herself off instead, which left her completely naked in front of him.
San didn’t even try to hide the way his gaze raked over her, his eyes dark with hunger before finally reaching back, and giving her ass a light, playful smack. "Tease," he muttered, though the word was more seductively affectionate than accusing.
Amber laughed, low and sultry, before slipping past him, settling her pink hairbrush on the sink and grabbing the hair dryer, plugging it into the outlet. She could feel his eyes on her, hot and possessive and god, the way he watched her made her skin tingle, made her want to turn around and press him against the black granite countertop of the sink, to feel his body against hers again.
But San was already moving, striding out of the bathroom with that confident swagger of his, his towel long discarded now. Amber watched him go, her lips curling into a smirk. "Where are you going Mr. K-pop star?" she called after him, her voice teasing.
"Getting dressed," he said over his shoulder, not even slowing down. "Unlike someone, I don’t have all day to stand around naked."
Amber rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face didn’t fade. She quickly finished drying her hair, wrapping the towel around herself once more before walking into the bedroom. San was already putting on a pair of dark jeans, his back muscles flexing as he reached for a black Ateez jersey. She recalled seeing him wear a similar jersey in one of the Ateez send-off videos she had watched on Instagram, but that was prior to their meeting, when she was simply just one of many Atiny's. Amber stood in the doorway of his walk in closet watching him with desire.
"You know," she said, her voice sweet but laced with mischief, "if you’re gonna be like that, I could just stay naked all day. Would that be a problem?"
San glanced at her over his shoulder, his smirk turning wicked. "Princess, if you stay naked, I’m not gonna be responsible for what happens next."
Amber’s breath hitched at the promise in his words. She loved this—loved the way he could flip from playful to dominant in a heartbeat, loved the way his gaze heated every time she pushed his buttons.
Amber leaned against the doorframe of San’s walk-in closet, her body relaxed yet charged with anticipation. The space was immaculate, every piece of clothing arranged with organized precision—every shirt color-coded, every fold precise. It was almost ridiculous how meticulous he was, but then again, that was San. Controlled. Methodical. Except when it came to her. The faint scent of his warm cologne clung to the air, mingling with the crisp, clean aroma of the high-end laundry detergent San favored. His scent. Warm, intoxicating, like sandalwood and something uniquely him.
She watched him with an intensity that went beyond the physical. Amber’s gaze traced the broad expanse of his shoulders, the way his fitted black jersey clung to the hard planes of his chest and stomach. The man was built like a damn fortress, and she loved every inch of him—every dip, every ridge, every scar from stage mishaps. His jet-black hair, usually tousled from her fingers, was slightly damp at the ends, from the heated shower they just took together. A few rebellious strands fell across his forehead just how she liked it, and she itched to brush them back, to tangle her fingers in them as she pulled him close.
Her attention snagged on a small, neatly folded bundle of soft pink fabric resting on the glass countertop at the center of the island. A slow, knowing smile curled her lips. "Clever bastard."
Amber plucked the fabric from the counter, unfolding the scrubs with deliberate slowness. The material was buttery soft, the color a vibrant, cheerful bubblegum pink, the same shade she painted her nails a few days ago. She held them up, the scrubs cradled against her chest, and turned to face San. “Is this for me?”
A dimpled smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, his deep brown eyes glinting with mischief. “Clever girl,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I can’t hide anything from you, now can I?”
Amber’s pulse quickened as she teased, “You tried to hide it? Sannie sweetie, it was right here, out in the open. Who wouldn't see it."
"Goddammit, quite right princess." San chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for her, his hands sliding around her waist to pull her flush against him. “I ordered these yesterday after you got the job,” he admitted, his voice rough with affection. “Thought you’d like something comfortable around that growing belly of yours.” His hand moved down, fingers splaying possessively over her small baby bump. The warmth of his touch seeped through the fabric of the towel that was wrapped snuggly around her, making her shiver.
“We wouldn’t want to crush our little one like a raisin in there,” he added, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over the curve of her stomach. The gesture was so tender it nearly undid her.
San tenderly kissed her, his hand gently resting on her baby bump, a clear sign of his pride. Amber returned his kiss, placing her hand over his on her baby bump. To the world, she was known as Dr. Hoffman, a highly respected OBGYN with a reputation for professionalism. However, in this private moment with San, she was simply Amber—his Amber, the extraordinary woman carrying his child.
“You know,” she admitted softly, her voice wavering slightly, “even though I’ve delivered countless babies, I’m scared. It feels different when I’m the one in the stirrups.”
San’s expression softened, his gaze locked onto hers as he cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away the faintest traces of doubt in her blue eyes. “I know, princess,” he murmured, his voice steady and sure. “And I promise you, I’ll be right there with you. Every contraction. Every push. Every damn second of it.”
His words wrapped around her like a safety net, warm and unyielding. Amber’s throat tightened. “You’re really going to be in the delivery room? You know I've seen numerous father's faint in the delivery room right?”
San laughed at her words before flashing her a dimpled smile. “Oh, I’m more than just going to be there princess. I’ll be holding your hand, cheering you on, and making sure you don’t break my fingers squeezing the life out of me.”
Amber let out a shaky laugh, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. “well, now I see why they call you San." she teased, her fingers threading through his jet black hair before ruffling the damp strands. “You really are my supportive mountain.”
San threw his head back and laughed, the sound rich and deep, vibrating through her. Then he pulled her into his arms, squeezing her against his chest. “Did this supportive mountain make you feel better now?” he murmured with a teasing lilt against her hair, his lips brushing the crown of her head.
Amber nodded, her cheek pressing into the solid wall of his pecs. She could hear the steady thump of his heartbeat, feel the heat radiating off him, and it anchored her. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Yeah, it does.”
San pulled back just enough to cradle her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones with slow, reverent strokes. “Good. That’s what I like to hear.”
His touch was possessive, adoring, and Amber melted into it. She loved the way he looked at her—like she was the only woman in the world, like she was the center of his universe. It made her feel powerful, desired, cherished.
"I’ll be in the kitchen while you finish getting dressed." he murmured as his gaze dropped to her lips, dark with promise.
Amber’s breath hitched as his meaning behind his words sank in.
"And please, princess… don’t come out to the kitchen completely naked. I don’t think I’ll be able to restrain myself much more if you do." San cutely begged and Amber let out a breathy laugh, her cheeks flushing pink.
Amber bit her lip, a wicked smile playing on her lips. “Okay, Sannie. Since you begged so nicely I’ll give you a break.”
San groaned at the nickname, his grip tightening on her waist. "That’s my good girl," he whispered before leaning in and pressing another slow, lingering kiss to her lips. Then, with a final squeeze of her hip, he stepped back, and strode toward the bedroom door, leaving her to get dressed.
Amber watched him go, her body thrumming with need. She loved that playful, teasing side of him—the way he could shift from tender to dominant in a heartbeat, the way he made her feel both worshipped and wanted.
She turned back to the counter, running her fingers over the soft pink fabric once more before letting the towel slip from her body, the fabric making her shiver as it grazed her sensitive pregnant curves on the way down, pooling at her feet on the floor. She picked up the pink fabric and stepped into the scrubs, sighing as the material conformed to her body. They were buttery soft, the waistband accommodating her growing belly with ease. "God, these are nice." She murmured to herself and made a mental note to thank San properly later.
Amber padded to the bathroom, her bare feet silent on the cool marble floors. She secured her long blonde waves into a high updo with her favorite pink claw clip, the way she always did at work to keep her hair out of her face. The style was professional, efficient, and it suited her.
She took a moment to admire her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips still slightly swollen from San’s kisses, and her blue eyes sparkled with something between contentment and raw, unfiltered desire. She looked… happy. Loved.
With a final deep breath, she turned and left the bathroom, making her way toward the kitchen where san waited for her.
The kitchen was bathed in the golden light of late morning, filtering through floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the sprawling Seoul skyline—not the chaotic heart of the city, but a quieter vantage point from San's high-rise penthouse, where the urban hum felt distant, like a song playing in another room. San stood by the island counter, his back to her at first, chatting animatedly with a tall, slender man whose impeccably tailored business suit screamed precision. Amber could only make out the sharp lines of his shoulders and the way his dark hair was neatly combed, but the conversation flowed easily between them, laced with laughter that carried a familiar rhythm.
Due to his background in security the man sensed her approach before San did, turning with a polite nod. He was Korean, early twenties perhaps, with wire-rimmed glasses that lent him the air of a trusted advisor—personal secretary, Amber thought idly, though she couldn't place him right away. His smile was warm, professional, but his eyes held a spark of recognition towards her.
"Hey, princess," San said, his voice lighting up as he turned to her, his eyes raking over her form with unhidden appreciation. "You look hot in those scrubs. Even our little one fits in it. Looks like I picked out the right ones." San added, leaning over to whisper the part about the baby to her so Mr. Kang wouldn't overhear. San didn't mind Mr. Kang knowing, as he trusted him, but he considered that Amber might not know him well enough yet and could be embarrassed if he mentioned it directly in front of Mr. Kang. San was not the type of man to put his best girl in such a position; it simply wasn't in his nature. San's gaze lingered on her small baby bump, before tracing the curve of her waist where the lab coat nipped in, and Amber felt a flush creep up her neck, her cheeks warming under his stare, a smile forming on her face after he mentioned their baby with such pride and It was the way he said it too—not lewd, but laced with that teasing affection that always made her feel seen, desired in the simplest way even when she was pregnant.
She smoothed a hand over her hip, trying to play it cool. "Thanks, Sannie. They fit perfectly." The pet name slipped out naturally, a echo of the intimacy they'd shared just moments ago in the en-suite sanctuary, where his hands had been gentle, his touches lingering like he was memorizing her.
San's grin widened, but then he gestured to the man beside him. "Do you remember Mr. Kang?" Amber tilted her head, the name tugging at a foggy memory. The face was familiar, but names had never been her strong suit—too many faces in too many places during her whirlwind arrival in Korea.
Mr. Kang extended a hand, his grip firm but kind. "Nice to see you again."
Amber shook it, her confusion knitting her brows. San chuckled, stepping closer, his presence a comforting heat at her side. "He's my best friend, my bodyguard, and my personal secretary all wrapped into one. Basically, he manages everything when I'm busy or away on tours." When her expression didn't clear, he added, "You probably remember him that night at the airport."
That's when the pieces clicked—the chaotic arrival, the sleek black car cutting through the rain-slicked streets, Mr. Kang's steady voice guiding them to safety. "Oh yes, hello! Sorry I didn't remember at first. I'm not good with names."
"That's alright," Mr. Kang replied with a disarming smile. "Neither am I, Ms...?"
"Hoffman, but please call me Amber." She returned the smile, sweet and genuine, her blue eyes meeting his steadily.
"Nice to meet you properly, Amber. I'll be driving you to and from work today." His tone was matter-of-fact, but it landed like a curveball, prompting Amber to shoot San a look—eyebrows raised, lips parted in silent question: *What the hell is going on here?*
San rubbed the back of his neck, The typical way most men do when their awkwardly nervous or confronted by something. "Sorry, baby. Manager just called while you were getting dressed. Said I have a photoshoot today with 10 Magazine."
"Oh, okay." Amber's voice dipped, a thread of disappointment weaving through it despite her best efforts. She knew this was his world—fame's relentless pull, the tours and spotlights that had drawn her to him in the first place. But the first day at her new job felt monumental, and the thought of facing it without him stung a little.
San's eyes softened, catching the shift in her tone like he always did. He let out a sigh and closed the distance between them, taking her hand in his. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, a small, attentive gesture that sent a quiet spark up her arm. "Look, Amber, I know you well enough by now to tell when you're upset. I can hear it in your voice. But I promise I'll take you next time, okay?" He cupped her face gently, his palm warm against her cheek, tilting her chin up so their eyes locked. The intensity there was heartwarming, his gaze holding hers with such caring encouragement that the knot in her chest loosened. "You're going to crush it today, babygirl. You've got this."
She nodded, leaning into his touch just a fraction, the proximity making her aware of every inch between them—the faint scent of his cologne, the way his jersey stretched across his chest. He leaned in, pressing a small, tender kiss to her cheek, his lips lingering for a beat longer than necessary, as if sealing the promise.
"I look forward to seeing you when I return home from work," Amber said, her voice steadier now. "I wish you the best of luck on your first day, and please don't hesitate to text me if you need anything, arasseo?" San echoed, slipping in the Korean phrase with that encouraging lilt, determined to weave his language into their shared world one repetition at a time. It was his way of pulling her closer, making the unfamiliar feel like home.
Amber smiled, a reply he taught her rolling off her tongue with growing confidence. "Ihaehaebnida." *I understand.* The pride that bloomed on San's face was immediate, His dimples were visible in his joyful smile, and his eyes crinkled at the corners as he beamed at her. He loved hearing his language from her lips, the way it softened her German accent into something uniquely theirs—a bridge built from quiet moments like the one in the bathroom, where he'd tied her hair back with a hair tie from her wrist, his breath warm against her neck.
"I love you, Sannie," she added softly, just as he turned toward the elevator, the words catching him mid-step.
He paused, turning back with a charming smile that lit up the room, appreciating how she surprised him with these spontaneous bursts of affection. "Love you more, princess." Without hesitation, he closed the gap, capturing her lips in a kiss right there in the kitchen, unashamed even with Mr. Kang politely averting his gaze. It was gentle at first, his hand sliding to the small of her back, drawing her near. The press of his mouth was loving, intense in its tenderness, a tease of what they'd shared earlier—his attentiveness wrapping around her like a promise. Amber's fingers curled into his jersey, the fabric bunching under her touch, and for a moment, the world narrowed to the heat of him, the way his lips moved with such careful passion.
San slowly and reluctantly pulled away from her lips, his forehead briefly resting against hers, their breaths intermingling in the intense atmosphere until he glanced over at Mr. Kang and said, "Mr. Kang, please take excellent care of my girl today and make sure she arrives there safely." San's words clearly demonstrated his steadfast protectiveness over her. "arasseo." Mr. Kang replied in Korean with an affirming nod of his head. San gave Amber's hand one final squeeze, his eyes holding hers with that electric pull, before stepping into the elevator. As the doors slid shut, San flashed her a teasing wink which made her laugh, but, left her with the echo of his touch and the anticipation humming in her veins.
(Yes, I know this is Korean actor Lee Jong Suk but I can just see San pulling this shit.)
Mr. Kang cleared his throat lightly, offering a kind smile. "Ready to go, Amber? The hospital isn't far, but traffic can be unpredictable."
She nodded, collecting her bag, with the stethoscope gently swaying against her chest as if it were a talisman. "Yeah, let's do this." Amber stated in a cheerful tone as she promptly turned and began heading towards the elevator, her bubbly demeanor eliciting a slight chuckle from Mr. Kang.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Outside San's penthouse complex, the morning air in Seoul had that crisp edge to it, the kind that made Amber’s skin prickle with anticipation rather than springtime air. Amber's mind replayed the morning—the way San's eyes had lingered on her in the scrubs, the reassuring weight of his hand on her face. It built a quiet tension in her, an anticipation for the evening when he'd return, their connection deepening with every shared glance and touch. She adjusted the strap of her bag as she slid into the backseat of Mr. Kang’s sleek black sedan, the leather cool beneath her fingers. The car smelled faintly of San's sandalwood cologne and something citrusy—Mr. Kang’s cologne, maybe, or just the lingering scent of the car’s interior. Either way, it was familiar, comforting, like the routine of this ride had already become.
Mr. Kang’s gaze met hers in the rearview mirror, his expression warm but professional. He cleared his throat, the sound almost lost beneath the hum of the engine. “Usually, when San rides with me, he enjoys listening to music on the way. Is there anything you would like to listen to, Amber?”
She smirked, leaning back against the headrest. “Sure, surprise me.”
Mr. Kang’s lips quirked, a knowing glint in his eyes for she had the same answer San usually gives him. He chuckled to himself, muttering something under his breath that sounded like, *No wonder they get along so well.* Then, with a flick of his fingers, he turned the dial, and the car filled with the low, velvety hum of a guitar.
Amber recognized it instantly. The melody was unmistakable—San’s voice, soft and intimate, wrapping around the lyrics of *Creep* like a secret meant only for her. Her breath hitched. It wasn’t just the song; it was the way the words seemed to curl around her, like San himself was in the car with her, his breath warm against her ear.
"I love hearing your whisper echo off these walls
Girl, your words command attention like a silent call
Stolen breath, nothing said
Nobody needs to know our secrets
Taking turns, push and pull
I'll give you everything you need and want"
Heat bloomed in her chest, creeping up her neck. She could almost feel the ghost of his hands on her skin, the way he’d pull her close, his voice rough with want. The lyrics painted a picture—stolen breaths, unspoken promises, the push and pull of something electric between them. Her fingers twitched against her thighs, the memory of his touch too fresh, too vivid.
She forced herself to exhale, to tear her gaze away from the mirror before Mr. Kang noticed the flush in her cheeks. "Focus, Amber. You don’t want to arrive at work looking like you’ve just been thoroughly fuck by you know who."
“Everything alright?” Mr. Kang’s voice cut through her thoughts, amused.
“Fine,” she said, too quickly. “Just… the song. It’s—”
“Perfect for the occasion?” he supplied, his tone light. “San mentioned you two have a habit of… surprising each other.”
Amber laughed, the tension easing. “Did he now?”
“Oh, yes. He was quite insistent I play this for you.” Mr. Kang’s eyes crinkled at the corners.
"That cocky...teasing...son of a bitch." Amber grumbled lowly under her breath knowing San did that on purpose. San knew damn good and well that song would evoke something inside her.
“Though I suspect he’d rather be here himself.” Mr. Kang Added
The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She could picture it—San in the backseat beside her, his thigh pressed against hers, his fingers tracing idle patterns on her knee while his voice filled the car. The way he’d look at her, like she was the only thing that mattered.
She shook her head, banishing the image. “Well, tell him I appreciate the serenade. Even if it’s a little… distracting.”
Mr. Kang’s chuckle was warm, knowing. “I’ll be sure to pass that along.”
The rest of the ride passed in a blur of easy conversation—Mr. Kang’s recommendations for hidden cafés, the best late-night ramen spots, the way the city came alive after dark. By the time they pulled up to the hospital, Amber’s nerves had settled into something manageable, a quiet hum of determination beneath her skin.
She stepped out of the car, the morning sun glinting off the glass façade of the building. The automatic doors whooshed open, welcoming her into the sterile brightness of the lobby. She took a deep breath, reaching up to adjust the stethoscope around her neck until she realized it wasn't there. "Shit! Way to go Amber lose your stethoscope on the first day." Amber murmured to herself until the sound of Mr. Kang's voice grabbed her attention.
“Amber!”
She turned just in time to see Mr. Kang holding up her pink stethoscope. "You left this in the back seat. You definitely don't want to forget this on your first day."
"Oh, yes, thank you so much." Amber replied, accepting the pink stethoscope and placing it back around her neck.
"Also, San asked me to give you this. While you were getting ready this morning, San thoughtfully packed you a lunch." Mr. Kang added, handing her a matching pink lunchbox that San had carefully prepared, which brought a lovely smile to her face.
Amber’s heart did a little flip. She took the box, her fingers brushing against the cool surface. “that's very thoughtful of him but he really didn’t have to—”
“believe me he wanted to,” Mr. Kang said, his voice soft. “And knowing San, he probably spent the majority of the morning making sure it was perfect for you, he's a gentle giant like that.”
She bit her lip, fighting the smile tugging at her mouth. “Tell him… thank you.”
Mr. Kang bowed slightly, his expression fond. “I will. Have a good day, Amber.”
She returned the bow he gave her, then turned toward the hospital, the lunchbox warm in her hands. The automatic doors closed behind her with a gentle whoosh, sealing her inside the world of white coats and and chattering hospital goers.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Out of habit, especially when she was nervous, Amber adjusted the strap of her bag as she stepped into the Seoul University Hospital lobby, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and something faintly sweet—maybe the vending machine coffee someone had spilled earlier. She pulled out her phone after it buzzed in her pocket, her fingers brushing the screen as she saw San's text message that read: "I apologize for having to bail on you at the last minute this morning, but just know you've got this princess, and Remember, you're the one who calms storms—today's just another wave." A warmth spread through her chest, despite the distance between them as she read his message. His words always had a way of steadying her, like his comforting hand on the small of her back, guiding her when the world felt too big.
She tucked her phone away and approached the front desk, her tennis shoes faintly squeaking against the polished floor. "Excuse me," she said to the older woman behind the counter, who was typing away on a keyboard with slow, deliberate strokes. "Could you tell me which floor the gynecology department is on?"
The woman glanced up, her sharp eyes assessing Amber for a moment before she offered a polite smile. "Sixteenth floor," she said, her voice crisp. "Just take the elevator up."
Amber nodded her thanks and made her way toward the bank of elevators, her lab coat fluttering slightly with each step.
"Shit. Figures," she muttered under her breath. She hated high floors, the way the windows seemed to stretch forever, the way her stomach lurched just a little when she looked down. Her mild acrophobia had stirred memories of her clinging to San "like a koala he called it" in his sky-view penthouse pool, her legs wrapped around his waist as he laughed against her lips. Or that time she’d visited his recording studio, perched high above the Seoul skyline on the 25th floor, where he’d pulled her close and whispered filthy promises in her ear to distract her from the city sprawled beneath them.
The elevator doors chimed and began to close pulling Amber out of her thoughtful memories. Amber quickened her pace, making a bee line for the closing elevator, dodging a group of nurses chatting loudly in Korean.
"Wait!" Amber exclaimed.
She was almost there—just a few more steps—and just when she thought all hope was gone, a hand shot out, wedging itself between the doors just in time. Amber exhaled in relief, her heart pounding, and stepped inside just as the doors slid back open fully.
"Thank you," she breathed, glancing up from the person's hand.
The man who had stopped the doors for her was tall, with sharp cheekbones and a quiet intensity in his gaze. He was dressed in a lab coat and dark blue scrubs, his dark hair slightly tousled, as if he’d been running his hands through it all morning. He made an educated guess that she was an English speaker, as she expressed her gratitude in English, and he chose to respond to her in English. Upon meeting her unique blue eyes, he offered a small, grateful smile. "No problem," he replied, his English voice smooth and subtly accented, hinting just enough to betray his Korean roots.
Amber stepped inside, the elevator already crowded with doctors and nurses shifting to make room for her. She ended up pressed close to the young doctor, her arm brushing his as she positioned herself near the panel. The sixteenth floor had already been selected, so she had no choice but to stand there, her shoulder almost flush with his.
The elevator jolted upward, and Amber subtly shifted, trying to put a little space between them. She knew if San saw her now, this close to another man, his jealousy would have erupt like a volcano, not that she wouldn't find that amusing. San was always the best at fucking her when he was jealous, hitting all the right spots that had her screaming his name.
The young doctor discreetly glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his gaze lingering just a second too long before he cleared his throat. "I take it you're new here?"
Amber turned her head to face him more fully, surprised. She hadn’t expected a Korean man to address her in English. "Huh? Oh, yes. Today’s my first day."
His lips quirked. "Which department?"
"Obstetrics and gynecology," she replied, suddenly aware of how close they were standing. His scent was faint but distinct—something clean, like soap mixed with a hint of cologne. Not overpowering, but definitely different from San's.
"Ah," he said, nodding. "A fellow OBGYN."
Amber blinked. "Wait, you're an OBGYN too?"
He chuckled, the sound warm and rich. "Yes, unless you find a man being an OBGYN unusual."
"Not at all," she said, though she could feel her cheeks warming. "In my experience, men can be excellent OBGYNs just as much as women can."
He grinned. "I'm truly glad you think so. My name is Dr. Park, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you."
"Dr. Hoffman," she replied, giving a polite nod. His name sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it yet. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well." Then the name jogged her memory shortly after.
"Wait," she added, with a slightly furrowed brow. "Are you Dr. Park from my interview?"
"No," he politely responded with a light chuckle, as this was not the first occasion he had been posed that particular question, gently shaking his head. "That would be my father. My full name is Park Hoon, and his is Park Lee. Ironically, we both use the same title Dr. Park."
Amber let out a soft laugh as Dr. Park’s smile deepened, and for a moment, his eyes held hers just a second too long. The elevator dinged, signaling their arrival on the sixteenth floor, and the doors slid open.
"Well, Dr. Hoffman," he said, stepping aside to let her exit first. "Best of luck on your first day. I’ll see you inside."
Amber returned his smile, her fingers curling slightly at her sides as she stepped out. "Thank you, Dr. Park. I look forward to working with you."
She turned toward the OBGYN ward, her mind already racing with the possibilities of her first day. But as she walked, she couldn’t shake the feeling of Dr. Park's gaze lingering on her back, or the faint warmth where their arms had brushed in the elevator. Amber did her best to shrug it off keeping only one man on her mind and that man was San.
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Amber adjusted the stethoscope around her neck, the weight of it familiar against the crisp fabric of her white lab coat. The scent of antiseptic and polished linoleum filled the air as she stood at the nurses' station, the fluorescent lights humming overhead like a chorus of disapproving ghosts. She had spent years in German hospitals where the air smelled of coffee and exhaustion, where she was the one calling the shots. But here, in Seoul University Hospital, she was just another face in the sea of white coats, and the realization sent a thrill down her spine.
Dr. Kim's voice, belonging to one of the head physicians from her interview, interrupted her thoughts like a scalpel through skin. "Dr. Hoffman! Hello, dear, how is your Korean progressing?" The senior head doctor’s eyes crinkled behind her glasses, her tone warm but laced with the kind of authority that made Amber stand a little straighter.
"Aju jal jinhaengdoego iss-eoyo" (It's going very well) Amber replied in Korean, the words rolling off her tongue with practiced ease. Dr. Kim clapped her hands, the sound sharp against the sterile backdrop. "Marvelous! He taught you so well," she said prompting memories of San to flash in Amber's mind.
She could recall San's gentle and patient voice in her thoughts, guiding her through the intricacies of the Korean language.. She could almost feel the warmth of his breath against her ear as he corrected her pronunciation too, his fingers brushing against hers as he guided her through the strokes of Hangul characters.
Dr. Kim cleared her throat, pulling Amber back to the present. "We have a few patients lined up. I’m just waiting on the rest of the team." She gestured to the stack of charts in her hands, her fingers tapping against the edges with the precision of a metronome.
"A team?" Amber echoed, her grip tightening on the edge of her coat. The word sent a jolt of something electric through her—anticipation, maybe, or the faintest whisper of vulnerability. She had spent years as a lone wolf in delivery rooms, making decisions in the blink of an eye without a chorus of voices second-guessing her. But this? This was new.
Dr. Kim nodded, her expression softening. "Yes, we pair up for rounds in the morning. By the end of the day, you’ll have your own patients, but for now, you’ll learn from the others." Her voice carried the quiet confidence of someone who had mentored dozens before Amber. "It’s how university hospitals operate."
Amber exhaled, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Wow. This is so different." The words were simple, but they carried the weight of something deeper—a recognition that she wasn’t just surviving anymore. She was leading. And for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel like she had to do it alone.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out just enough to glance at the screen. A message from Mr. Kang lit up the display: "I hope your first day is going well so far. If you need anything San and I are here to back you up 100 percent." The words wrapped around her like a quiet embrace, chasing away the last threads of her pre-shift jitters. She tucked the phone away, her fingers lingering on the fabric of her coat as if she could still feel the friendly encouraging warmth of Mr. Kang's message against her skin.
Dr. Kim’s voice pulled her back. "Don't worry, You’ll get the hang of it in no time. With your mother’s tenacity, I have no doubt you’ll succeed." Her eyes crinkled again, and Amber felt a swell of gratitude for the woman who had known her mother years ago. It was a connection, however tenuous, that made this foreign place feel a little more like home.
Behind Dr. Kim was the sound of footsteps approaching, and the team arrived in a flurry of white coats and murmured greetings. Dr. Kim gestured to the group. "Dr. Hoffman, let me introduce you to Dr. Lena and Dr. Park."
Dr. Park stepped forward first, his hand extended, that charming smile of his already putting Amber at ease. "We met earlier in the elevator," he said, his grip firm but warm. "It’s nice to see you again, Dr. Hoffman."
Amber shook his hand, noting the way his presence felt like a buffer against the whirlwind of her first day. He was like a brother she’d never had, the kind of person who could make even the most mundane tasks feel like an adventure.
Then she turned to Dr. Lena.
The air between them stilled for a moment.
It was the woman from the restroom during her interview—the one who had handed her a pregnancy test with such discreet professionalism. Amber’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening around the edge of her coat as their eyes locked. Heat crept up her neck, a flush of anxiety blooming beneath her skin. Would Dr. Lena say something? Would she let slip the secret between her and San that she had only just begun to process herself?
But Dr. Lena’s expression remained warm, her smile genuine and free of judgment. It was as if there was a subtle nod between them, an unspoken pact to keep the pregnancy tucked away for now. "It’s a pleasure to work with you, Dr. Hoffman," she said simply, offering nothing more.
Amber exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction. She nodded, her own smile tentative but sincere. "Likewise."
Dr. Kim clapped her hands again, the sound sharp and efficient. "Alright, team, let’s get started. We have a full morning ahead of us."
pure smut - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! explicit content, dirty talk, cussing, teasing, petnames: princess, babygirl, Sannie, female and male receiving, clit play, breast play, makeout, kissing, oral sex, licking, fingering, squirting, moaning, groaning, whimpering, submissive San, creampie, multiple orgasms.
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(This chapter is based on the Song NAMEONIT and Say It by Josh Levi)
As the K-drama episode unfolded on the flat-screen TV in the vast living room of San's penthouse, the city's distant hum filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows like a forgotten soundtrack. Amber settled further into the comfortable sectional, her legs drawn beneath her, dressed in one of San's oversized shirts, which extended to her mid-thigh. The soft fabric draped in a way that emphasized her small stature in comparison to San's muscular build. A quality he found endearing, as it made her appear delicate in his eyes. San sat close, his arm draped casually over the back of the couch, his fingers occasionally tracing idle patterns on her bare skin where the sleeve of San's oversized shirt had slipped down leaving half of her shoulder bare. The K-drama's main plot built and twisted, but Amber's focus wavered, her European blue eyes flicking toward San's profile, the sharp line of his jaw catching the glow from the TV.
San turned his head, catching her gaze, and his dark, intense eyes locked on hers. He was mere inches away now, their breaths mixing in the quiet space between them. Amber's chest tightened with that familiar ache, the kind that had built from their stolen moments before—the way he'd admired her eyes in the soft bathroom light, or how he'd teased her about borrowing his shirt after their last intimate tangle in the shower. She bit her lip, anticipation coiling low in her belly.
As the K-drama reached a pivotal moment, depicting the South Korean soldier's confession of love to the heiress and their subsequent kiss outside the military hospital, San chose this precise instant to lean in, slow and deliberate, his hand rising to cup her cheek. The warmth of his palm sent a spark through her skin, grounding her even as it lit her up. Then his lips met hers, soft at first, testing, before deepening into something hungry and unyielding.
The kiss stretched on, tongues sliding together in a rhythm that made Amber's pulse race. San's free hand found her waist, pulling her closer, his fingers slipping under the hem of the shirt, tracing the bare skin of her hip. He tasted like the Peach Soju they'd shared earlier, and she melted into it, her hands fisting in his shirt. But as his grip tightened, his body shifting to press against hers, Amber felt the heat building too fast—his arousal evident against her thigh. She wanted him, fuck, she did, but the drama was hitting its peak, the climax of the plot pulling at her curiosity. With a reluctant gasp, she pulled back, her lips tingling, cheeks flushed.
"Whoa, Sannie," she murmured, a teasing smile curving her mouth as she gently smoothed her braid, which San had kindly fashioned for her in the bathroom. "As much as I'd love to let you ravage me right here, that episode's getting good. Can we finish it first? Promise I'll make it worth the wait."
San chuckled, low and rough, his thumb stroking her cheek before he dropped his hand. "Teasing me already, babygirl? Fine, but just know you're killing me here." He pressed a quick kiss to her temple, settling in beside her again, though his hand stayed on her thigh, thumb stroking in lazy circles. Amber shivered at the touch, focusing on the screen, but her mind wandered to how attentive he always was—remembering the way he'd braided her hair earlier today in his bathroom after fucking her to oblivion in his shower, his fingers gentle despite the tension between them.
They watched the rest of the episode in charged silence, Amber's body buzzing from the interrupted kiss, every brush of his arm against hers reigniting the spark. San always made sure Amber knew he was there waiting patiently for her, brushing her hand every so often, his fingers lingering on hers. When the credits rolled, he muted the TV and turned to her fully, that caring glint in his eyes making her heart stutter. "Now, where were we, princess?" His voice was low, laced with that caring edge that always made her melt. He kissed her again, slower this time, savoring it like he was memorizing every inch of her mouth. Amber sighed into it, her body relaxing against him, legs straddling his hips as his hands roamed her back, caressing the curve of her spine through the thin fabric.
"God, You're so beautiful," San whispered against her lips, pulling back just enough to look at her. His gaze lingered on her blue eyes, the admiration there as clear as ever. "I love how you look in my shirt; it makes me wish to keep you here forever." Amber smiled, appreciating how San admired her in his very own shirt, for it made her feel even more beautiful and cherished in his eyes in numerous ways. Amber rocked her hips experimentally, feeling his hardness press against her core, and he groaned softly, hands gripping her waist.
"San," she breathed, guiding his hands up her body, egging him to touch her while her fingers threaded through his jet black hair, tugging lightly with her other hand. He responded by trailing kisses down her neck, sucking gently at the spot just below her ear that made her gasp. His touch was everywhere—attentive, loving, one hand slipping under the shirt to caress her bare breast, thumb circling her nipple until it peaked. "Fuck, baby, you feel so good," he murmured, voice rough with want. Amber arched into him, the tenderness in his words mixing with the heat building between them. He was always like this, encouraging her, letting her know exactly how much he loved her—whispering it between kisses, his hands never rushing, always caring.
She ground against him harder, the friction sending sparks through her, but San surprised her by flipping them over, laying her back against the cushions. He hovered above, eyes locked on hers, and slid the shirt up and off, exposing her completely. "God, princess, look at you." His voice was reverent as he kissed down her chest, tongue flicking over one nipple while his hand kneaded the other. Amber moaned, her hands fisting the cushions, but she wanted more—wanted to tease him back. "Sannie, touch me lower," she urged, her voice husky.
San's hand trailed down her stomach, fingers dipping beneath the thin waistband of her panties. He paused, meeting her gaze. "You want my fingers here babygirl?" San asked. It was that encouraging tone, making her feel safe, desired. She nodded, lifting her hips as he tugged her panties off, leaving her bare. His fingers found her folds, slick already, and he groaned at how wet she was. "All this for me?" He circled her clit slowly, teasing, building the pressure until she was squirming.
"Yes, fuck—San, please." He slid two fingers inside her, curling them just right, his thumb pressing against her clit in steady rhythm. Amber's head fell back, a whimper escaping as he worked her, attentive to every gasp, every twitch. He kissed her deeply, swallowing her moans, his free hand caressing her thigh, holding her open. "I love you so much, Amber," he said between kisses, voice tender. "Love making you feel good." The words hit her hard, heartwarming in the midst of the intensity, and she clenched around his fingers, the coil tightening.
He picked up the pace, fingers thrusting deeper, hitting that spot inside her that made stars burst behind her eyelids. Amber's breaths came in pants, her body trembling as the pleasure built to a peak she'd never quite hit like this before. "San—oh god, I'm—" She shattered, crying out as she came, but it was more than that. A gush of warmth flooded his hand, her core squirting in sharp pulses that soaked the cushions beneath her. San's eyes widened, a hot grin spreading across his face as he kept fingering her through it, drawing out every wave.
"Holy shit, baby, you just squirted all over me. That was fucking hot." Amber's cheeks burned, but the surprise turned to pride when she saw the awe in his eyes. She'd never done that before, not like this, and it was all because of how perfectly he touched her. "Did I... surprise you?" she asked, still panting.
"Surprise me? Princess, fuck, you just made my night!" He said with awe before kissing her mouth. The kiss was deep, loving, his hands caressing her sides as if to soothe the aftershocks still rippling through her. The way he looked at her—like she was a miracle—made her bold. She wanted to see his reaction, wanted to please him, watch him unravel.
Pushing him back, Amber got up from the couch and kneel down between his legs, her hands working his sweats down. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, the tip already leaking. San's breath hitched, but he let her take control, his hands resting on her hips. "Babygirl, you don't have to—" But she silenced him with a kiss, wrapping her hand around his length, stroking slowly. "I want to," she whispered, loving how his eyes fluttered shut for a second. She shifted lower, kissing down his chest, nipping at his abs until she reached his cock. Amber licked the underside, teasing the head with her tongue, and San whimpered—actually whimpered, his head falling back against the couch.
"Fuck, Amber..." His voice was submissive now, hips bucking slightly as she took him into her mouth, sucking deep. She watched him, loving the way his face contorted in pleasure, the soft sounds he made. One hand tangled in her soft blonde hair, not pushing, just holding, encouraging. She bobbed her head, hollowing her cheeks, her free hand cupping his balls, rolling them gently. San's whimpers turned to moans, his body tensing. "Fuck Princess, I'm so close—keep those gorgeous blue eyes on me baby." His eyes locked on hers, pleading, and she pulled off with a pop, stroking him fast as he threw his head back with a hot groan, his creamy load spilling over her fist in thick ropes.
They both panted, San pulling her up to kiss her fiercely, tasting himself on her tongue. "That was... incredible," he murmured, his hands caressing her sides, tender even in the afterglow. But Amber wasn't done; she wanted him inside her, wanted to feel him lose control again. She guided him down to the floor with her, the plush rug soft under her back as she pulled him over her. "Fuck me, Sannie. I need you."
San nodded, positioning himself at her entrance, sliding in slow, inch by inch. Amber gasped at the stretch, her walls still sensitive from before, clenching around him. He bottomed out, groaning as he started to move, thrusts deep and measured.
"Harder," she begged, and he obliged, pounding into her with a rhythm that had her crying out. Pleasure tore through her, tears pricking her eyes from how good it felt. "San, you're so good at fucking me—fuck, don't stop!" She cried in pleasure, nails digging into his back as her first orgasm hit, her body shaking, screams echoing in the room. San didn't let up, whispering, "Come for me, princess," his own groans mixing with hers as he chased his release.
"Good girl, your taking me so well." he praised, his voice loving, eyes never leaving hers. He kissed her neck, her shoulders, hands everywhere—caressing her breasts, her hips, encouraging every moan she made. The intensity built, hot and sexy, his pace picking up as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him as if she never wanted to let him go.
She came again, harder, her walls fluttering around him, and that's when he lost it—thrusting deep one last time, spilling inside her with a shuddering moan. "Amber—fuck, yes." They collapsed together, bodies slick with sweat, San still buried deep, not pulling out. He rolled them so she was on top, his arms wrapping around her in sweet aftercare—kissing her forehead, stroking her hair, murmuring how much he loved her. "Stay like this with me, babygirl. I want you to fall asleep with me right here."
San pulled off the cozy blanket from the couch and draped it over them both, as she nestled closer against his chest, feeling his warm creamy load inside her, plugged by his softening cock. San held her close to him and whispered "Saranghae," the Korean phrase for "I love you." slipping out like a secret promise, before pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. Her skin was warm, her rose petal scent mixed faintly with the peach soju they'd shared earlier, and he lingered just a second longer than necessary, inhaling the comfort she brought him. In no time the exhaustion hit them both, San's breaths evening out as he drifted off, still lodged deep inside her. She smiled, tracing lazy patterns on his muscular chest, the heartwarming closeness lulling her too. As sleep claimed her, she thought of how far they'd come—from that earlier fuck in his shower to this, wrapped in each other's arms, no words needed.
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Sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the warm rays shining down on San and Amber's tangled limbs on the penthouse floor. Amber stirred first, blinking awake a few times, disoriented for a split second. The warmth enveloping her from behind registered—San's tatted arm, solid, muscular, and reassuring, wrapped tightly around her, holding her close as if she was his favorite Shiber plushie.
Memories of the night before flooded back: them watching a K-drama, the passionate kiss that led up to them fucking on the cozy couch, only to wake up here on the living room floor, tangled in each other. Amber could still feel his warm yet soft cock buried deep inside her, and she loved the sensation, making her feel full and not empty. A smile tugged at her lips as she turned her head back slightly, careful not to disturb him. San's face was relaxed in sleep, his dark hair tousled from last night's fuck, lips curved in a faint, boyish grin even now. He looked younger like this, stripped of the performer's edge, and it made her heart do that familiar flip.
Amber laid there, savoring the quiet. She'd always loved these stolen moments, the way San made her feel small yet protected, like the world outside could wait. Her first shift at the hospital loomed today—a big step after moving to Korea with San—but right now, with him by her side, her nerves felt distant. Gently, she traced the line of his tatted arm with her fingertip, feeling the subtle flex of muscle beneath. He shifted, eyes fluttering open, and caught her gaze with a sleepy warmth that sent a spark through her, his cock twitching inside her, already half-hard from the night's remnants. Amber rocked her hips experimentally, drawing a sleepy groan from him.
"Fuck..." San groaned after feeling the shocks of pleasure ripple through him as Amber moved against his cock that was still plugged inside her. San opened his eyes and gazed directly at Amber, who had ceased her movement by now but still wore a mischievous grin on her face. San smirked at her, taking in the moment of her playful morning demeanor and loving it all the same.
"Morning, koala," he mumbled, hands finding her ass, squeezing.
"Koala? That's a new one. Should I be offended or flattered?" she asked, her blonde braid cascading over one shoulder, prompting San to reach up, smoothing his fingers down the braided strand.
"Flattered. Definitely flattered. I must've fucked you real good last night because you were clinging to me like a cute little koala. It's as if you never wanted to let me go." San's eyes sparkled with that charming mischief she adored, the kind that disarmed her everytime.
"You got that right." Amber laughed. "How did my prince sleep after everything?" Amber asked, bringing a warm chuckle out of San. "I should be the one asking you that since you're the one with nightmares." San said, gently tightening his tatted, muscular, arm around her midsection beneath the blankets.
"True, but I haven't had one since we left Germany. I think you scared off my nightmares for good, Sannie." Amber replied, reaching up and caressing the back of his head that rested in the crook of her neck, running her fingers through his cutely ruffled, jet black hair.
Amber shifted slightly, her eyelashes fluttering before she nuzzled closer, her cheek brushing against the muscular planes of his chest. A quiet, contented hum vibrated against his skin, and San’s chest tightened with affection.
"I hope so. I hate seeing my princess go through such a troubled sleep. My princess deserves her beauty rest." He murmured, gently kissing the tip of her nose and laughed when she adorably scrunched it.
"Fuck, princess, I really don’t want to pull out of you," he admitted, his voice rough with reluctance as he shifted just enough to meet her gaze. His forehead pressed against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. His thumb stroked her cheekbone, tracing the delicate curve before sliding down to her jaw. "I want to stay like this forever."
She blinked up at him, her lips curving into a smile before she reached up to mirror his touch, her fingers tracing the same path his had taken—along his jaw, down his throat, before settling against his chest.
"I know, baby," she murmured, her voice still thick with the remnants of sleep. "But I’ve got work today."
San let out a reluctant sigh, his grip on her hip tightening briefly before he nodded in agreement. He shifted slowly, carefully, not wanting to jostle her too much. He knew she was still sensitive from last night judging by how tightly her walls wrapped around him, knew that even the slightest movement could send waves of pleasure crashing through her. He gritted his teeth against the residual soreness of his own body, but the pleased groan that escaped him when he finally slipped free was worth it.
Amber’s moan mingled with his groan, a shared sound of reluctant pleasure and sudden emptiness. Her hips twitched involuntarily, as if reaching for him, and San’s heart clenched at the sight. He cradled her close, his lips finding the shell of her ear as he whispered, "Don't worry, princess, my dick will find a way to be inside you again." He teased, laughing when he saw a blush creep up on her face, a reaction that San had come to love and found it so endearing to watch.
"But in all seriousness, I will make it up to you later, princess. Promise." San added, gently kissing her forehead and listening to the sweet, contented hum that resonated within her.
San shifted on his side and propped himself up on one elbow, his fingers gently brushing along the bridge of her nose with attentive care. His dark eyes were locked onto hers with that intense pull she remembered from their first nights together, the kind that made her European blue eyes widen just a fraction. He didn't rush to cover up; neither did she. They were both still naked from the night before, skin sticky with dried sweat and the remnants of their release. San's gaze dropped lower, tracing the curve of her body, and he reached out, his fingers brushing her thigh in a gentle caress that made her shiver.
"Look at you, babygirl," he murmured, his voice low and rough from sleep. "All fucked out and beautiful." He ran his hand down her thigh before pushing her legs open with a firm but tender hand, spreading her thighs wide enough to expose her completely. Amber's breath hitched as the cool morning air hit her sensitive skin, and she watched his face, the way his lips parted slightly. His creamy load seeped out of her slowly, a thick, white trail leaking from her core, mixing with her own slickness on the penthouse floor beneath them. San's eyes darkened, fixed on the sight like it was the most mesmerizing thing he'd ever seen.
"Fuck, that's hot," he said, his tone laced with awe. He reached down between her legs, running his fingers through her slick folds, parting them gently to feel the mess they'd made. Amber moaned, her hips bucking involuntarily at the touch, the sensitivity from last night making every stroke electric. San's fingers explored her with attentiveness, circling her clit lightly before dipping lower, scooping up their mixed juices on his fingertips. He brought them to his mouth, tasting it while keeping his eyes glued on her. The deliberate slowness of it, the way he sucked his fingers clean without breaking eye contact, sent a rush of heat straight to her core. Amber bit her lip, finding it a major turn-on, her walls clenching around nothing as she watched him savor the evidence of their night.
"You taste uniquely like us, princess," he said, smirking as he leaned in to kiss her, letting her taste the salty tang on his tongue. The kiss started soft, his lips brushing hers with tenderness, but it deepened quickly, his hand still between her legs, teasing her entrance with lazy circles. Amber melted into it, her fingers threading through his tousled hair, pulling him closer. San's free hand roamed up her side, caressing the underside of her breast, thumb flicking her nipple until it hardened under his touch.
"You're too good to me, Sannie," she whispered against his mouth, her voice breathy. He pulled back just enough to look at her, his expression softening into something heartwarming, full of that caring intensity she loved.
"I love you, baby. Every fucking inch of you. The way you cling to me, the way you let me in like this—it's everything." His words were encouraging, wrapping around her like his arms had all night, making her feel cherished even as her body heated up again. He kissed her neck, trailing down to her collarbone, nipping gently before soothing with his tongue. Amber arched into him, her hands exploring the tattoos on his arm, tracing the lines she'd memorized from their time in his bedroom back home, those intimate moments that had built this trust between them.
San shifted, positioning himself between her spread legs, but he didn't push inside yet. Instead, he lowered his head, his breath hot against her inner thigh. "Let me take care of you before breakfast," he said, his voice teasing but laced with genuine affection.
He kissed the sensitive skin there, working his way up, his hands holding her thighs open with a firm grip. When his mouth finally met her pussy, Amber gasped, her fingers tightening in his hair. San licked her slowly at first, lapping up the remnants of their juices with broad strokes of his tongue, humming in approval at the taste.
"God, San," she moaned, her hips rolling against his face. He was relentless but gentle, sucking her clit into his mouth and flicking it with the tip of his tongue, building the pressure steadily. One hand slid up to caress her stomach, fingers splaying possessively, while the other dipped two fingers inside her, curling them to hit that spot that made her see stars. Amber's breaths came in short pants, the intensity building as he worked her over, his dark eyes flicking up to watch her reactions, always so attentive to what she needed.
"You're so wet for me already, babygirl," he murmured against her skin, the vibration sending jolts through her. He added a third finger, stretching her just enough to remind her of his cock, pumping them in and out with a rhythm that matched his tongue. Amber's body tensed, the orgasm coiling tight in her belly. San sensed it, encouraging her with soft words. "Come for me, princess. Let me feel you."
She shattered with a cry, her pussy clenching around his fingers as waves of pleasure crashed over her, her thighs trembling against his shoulders. San didn't stop until she was writhing, oversensitive and gasping, then he kissed his way back up her body, capturing her lips in a deep, loving kiss. "That's my girl," he whispered, pulling her into his arms, holding her close as she came down, his erection pressing hard against her thigh.
Amber caught her breath, her hand wrapping around his cock, stroking him slowly, feeling him throb in her grip. "Your turn, Sannie," she said, a teasing glint in her blue eyes. She pushed him onto his back, straddling his hips but not sinking down yet. Instead, she leaned forward, her braid falling over her shoulder as she kissed his chest, tracing the lines of his tattoos with her tongue. San groaned, his hands settling on her ass, squeezing encouragingly.
She worked her way down, nipping at his abs, feeling them flex under her mouth. When she reached his cock, she looked up at him, holding his gaze as she licked the tip, tasting the bead of pre-cum there. San's head fell back with a curse, his fingers tangling gently in her braid, not pulling but guiding. Amber took him into her mouth, sucking him deep, her tongue swirling around the shaft. She bobbed her head, hollowing her cheeks, taking him as far as she could until he hit the back of her throat. San's hips bucked slightly, but he was careful, always so tender with her.
"Fuck, baby, your mouth," he growled, his voice strained. She hummed around him, the vibration making him swear again, and she reached down to cup his balls, massaging them lightly as she sucked harder. San's breaths grew ragged, his hand caressing her hair now, petting her like she was precious. "I love you so much, Amber. The way you make me feel—shit, no one's ever gotten me like this."
His words fueled her, and she picked up the pace, her hand stroking what her mouth couldn't reach. San's body tensed, and with a deep groan, he came, spilling down her throat in hot pulses. Amber swallowed every drop, licking him clean before crawling back up to kiss him, sharing the taste. He pulled her flush against him, wrapping his arms around her in a heartwarming embrace, their naked bodies entwined once more.
They lay like that for a while, catching their breath, San's fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back. "You okay, princess?" he asked softly, kissing her forehead.
"More than okay," she replied, nuzzling into his neck. "You always know how to make me feel loved."
"Because you are, babygirl. Every day." His voice was full of sincerity, and he held her tighter, the tenderness making her heart swell.
Eventually, the morning light brightened, reminding them of the day ahead. San reluctantly disentangled himself, standing and pulling her up with him. "Come on, let's get you fed before work." He led her to the kitchen, still naked, his hand never leaving hers. Amber watched him move, admiring the way his muscles shifted, the casual confidence he had around her.
In the kitchen, San rummaged through the fridge, pulling out eggs, veggies, and rice for a quick bibimbap-style breakfast. Amber perched on the counter, her legs dangling, still buzzing from their morning. She didn't bother with clothes; neither did he. As he chopped vegetables, she swung her feet, occasionally brushing his hip with her toe, teasing. San glanced over, smirking. "Keep that up, and breakfast might burn."
"Promise?" she shot back, her eyes sparkling.
He laughed, setting the knife down to step between her legs, kissing her deeply. His hands roamed her thighs, pushing them apart again, but he pulled back with a groan. "Tempting, but you need fuel for your big day." He turned back to cooking, but not before giving her ass a playful smack that made her yelp and laugh.
As they ate—sitting side by side at the island, thighs touching—San fed her bites from his chopsticks, his free hand on her knee, caressing absentmindedly. "You're gonna kill it at the hospital today, I just know it." he said encouragingly, his dark eyes meeting hers. "I know it's nerve-wracking, moving here, starting fresh, but you've got this. And I've got you."
Amber smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I know. That's why I feel ready." She remembered how he'd tied her hair into this braid just nights ago in his bathroom, the black granite sink reflecting their closeness, and how he'd handed her one of his shirts afterward, admiring how it hung on her without a bra, comfortable and sexy in her own skin. Those little things built their world.
After breakfast, San cleared the plates, then pulled her into the shower. The en-suite bathroom was a sanctuary, steam filling the air as hot water cascaded over them. He soaped her up gently, his hands lathering her breasts, stomach, between her legs with caring touches that turned teasing. Amber returned the favor, stroking his cock until it hardened again under the spray. "One more?" she whispered, turning to brace against the tile.
San didn't hesitate, gripping her hips and sliding into her from behind with a shared moan. The water made everything slick, his thrusts deep and intense, but he kept one arm around her waist, holding her close, whispering pet names. "My babygirl, so tight for me." He reached around to rub her clit, building her up fast. They came together, her core milking him as he filled her up again, his creamy load coming out in hot spurts as he held her close to him under the warm spray. They both took a moment to catch their breaths until San turned off the water. If mornings with San consistently involved this before work, she would not mind doing this with him every morning.
(This chapter is based on the song Choose by ateez)
As the night stretched across the penthouse, San and Amber settled into the oversized leather couch that dominated the living room. The room was quite spacious, offering a beautiful view of the city lights at night, yet the large living area felt wonderfully cozy. It was filled with an assortment of bookshelves overflowing with well-read novels, and a collection of vintage vinyl records that was casually arranged next to a turntable that still softly hummed from an earlier spin.
San had dimmed the lights, not for romantic ambiance, but because he found a sense of calm and a reduction in headaches when the room was softly lit, a welcome change from the harsh spotlights he was under during performances. The room was bathed in a gentle amber glow from the small overhead light fixtures, a hue that reminded San of the color of Amber's blonde hair, while the city lights filtered through the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Seoul. After a period of conversation with each other, San and Amber began their language studies in preparation for her first day tomorrow. They'd been at it for hours, notebooks spread out like battle plans, pencils scribbling phonetic guides and doodles that veered into caricatures of each other.
Amber leaned back against the cushions, her legs tucked under her, a half-empty mug of chamomile tea that San had fixed up for her cooling on the coffee table. She was dressed simply in his white shirt that slipped off one shoulder, revealing the curve of her collarbone, not completely, but just enough to make San's wondering glances linger a beat too long.
Tomorrow loomed large for her—her first shift at Seoul University Hospital, where Korean-speaking patients made fluency a must. San, ever the volunteer, had jumped at the chance to help, his enthusiasm bubbling over like the kimchi jjigae they shared earlier that morning. "Alright, Princess," he said, his voice carrying that warm lilt of his Korean accent, "let's tackle this one. 'Annyeonghaseyo' is hello, but if you want to charm a patient, try 'jal jinaeyo?'—how are you doing?"
Amber repeated it, her tongue twisting around the syllables with exaggerated flair. "Jal... jinaeyo?" She drew out the words, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically, which elicited a chuckle from San. His laugh was one of those sounds that started low in his chest and bubbled up, charming and infectious, the kind that made her stomach do a little flip.
She loved how it lit up his face, crinkling the corners of his dark eyes. They'd done this before—playful exchanges that turned serious sessions into something lighter, freer. She recalled how he would playfully tease and joke with her, even during their most serious discussions, which always managed to lighten the atmosphere and bring a smile to her face. Even when she was feeling down or had experienced a bad nightmare in the middle of the night, he consistently had a knack for improving the situation, a quality Amber particularly admired the most about San. But tonight, with the weight of her new job pressing in, it felt different, more charged.
"Your turn," she countered, shifting closer on the couch so their knees brushed. The contact was casual, accidental even, but neither pulled away. Amber picked up her notebook, flipping to a page filled with German phrases she'd jotted down and wanted to teach them to San which he was more then willing to learn. "I'm teaching you something useful. 'Ich liebe dich' means I love you." She said it slowly, her European blue eyes locking onto his, a teasing smile playing on her lips. San's expression softened, and for a moment, the air between them thickened, like the pause before a summer storm. He'd heard her say it before, when they had sex however he never knew what it meant until now. But here, in the quiet hum of the penthouse, it hung with new weight.
San leaned in, his snug black T-shirt stretching across his shoulders as he pretended to concentrate. "Ich... liebe... dich," he echoed, mangling the 'ch' sound into something that sounded more like a cat hacking up a hairball. Amber burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand, and he grinned, unashamed. "Hey, give me a break princess. Your language is all throat and nasal noises. Korean is more elegant—smooth, like silk." He reached for her notebook, his fingers grazing hers, lingering just a fraction longer than necessary. The touch was electric, a subtle current that made her pulse quicken. She didn't move her hand away, and neither did he, their eyes meeting in a gaze that stretched the moment into something intimate.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
A few hours later, after what felt like an eternity of practicing each other's native language, Amber nestled into the plush cushions of the oversized leather couch while San sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her, a notebook splayed open on the coffee table, scribbled with Hangul characters and phonetic notes. His dark hair gently cascaded over his forehead as he leaned in, meticulously reviewing the final phrases of the evening with her. This continued until he felt that she had proficiently grasped the material, enabling her to speak Korean fluently enough for her inaugural day at work.
"I think you're ready, Princess," San declared with pride, his eyes lighting up as Amber repeated all the phrases flawlessly after two hours of practice. She beamed, the satisfaction of cracking the tricky syllables washing over her like a warm wave. San's lessons had started as a practical necessity—Amber's first shift was tomorrow, and she knew that by knowing a bit of Korean would help smooth things over with her patients—but they'd evolved into something more playful, a shared rhythm that made the penthouse feel even more like home.
"That's enough language lessons for right now," San remarked, glancing at his watch. "Takeout will arrive any moment." As if on cue, the doorbell rang, sharp and insistent. "On that note," he chuckled, pleased with his impeccable timing, and rose to his feet with that effortless grace Amber had come to adore. San approached the door, opened it, and accepted the bags of food, bowing politely to the delivery person, a familiar and trusted individual who playfully teased San with a grin. "Keep shining on stage, man." San replied, "You know I always do," their laughter echoing briefly in the hallway before he closed the door. San returned to the couch, placing the takeout on the coffee table with a casual flair that Amber genuinely admired—the way he moved, unhurried yet precise, like he was choreographing a quiet performance just for her. "Since you're living with me now, how about I introduce you to some authentic Korean cuisine?" he suggested, laying out several takeout containers alongside a bowl of steaming rice and a pair of chopsticks. The aromas mingled in the air: savory bulgogi, spicy kimchi with a side of steamed dumplings, and something tangy that made Amber's stomach rumble.
She picked up the chopsticks, fumbling with them awkwardly, which drew a soft chuckle from San. "Honey, those are chopsticks, not weapons for poking someone. You're not Mr. Miyagi trying to catch a fly now." he joked, his voice laced with that warm, charming lilt that always made her smile. Amber burst into laughter, the sound light and freeing, echoing the carefree moments they'd shared during their language sessions on this very couch.
"Can Asian people really do that?" Amber inquired, her curiosity piqued, tilting her head as she balanced the sticks precariously.
"I have no idea. Maybe Korean monks can, but I’ve yet to see it," San teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He scooted closer on the floor, his knee brushing against hers in a fleeting touch that sent a subtle spark up her leg. San first demonstrated the technique by picking up a piece of kimchi with his chopsticks and offering it to her. He then encouraged her to try and replicate his actions. Despite her efforts, she encountered some difficulty, which he found cute especially, the adorable little frustrated pout she did when she couldn't quite master it.
"Here, let me help you learn to use them." Gently, he guided her fingers, his hand enveloping hers with a firmness that was both instructive and tender. His skin was warm against hers, and as she adjusted her grip under his direction, Amber felt the quickness of her learning curve—not just with the chopsticks, but in how attuned she was to him. San was always impressed by her eagerness to learn something new, which mirrored the playful Korean phrases she had attempted with him just a few hours prior.
San carefully maneuvered her fingers to grasp a steamed dumpling with her chopsticks. Yet, when her pinky accidentally grazed the middle of his palm, San burst into laughter, flicking his hand and sending the dumpling soaring through the air and onto the black marble floor, where it landed with a distinct plop.
"San, what the hell was that all about?" Amber inquired, giggling.
"My bad, princess; the center of my hand is super ticklish," San replied with a chuckle.
"Is that so? Show me your hand," Amber said, leaning in to grab San’s hand, but he swiftly withdrew it.
"No way! For the first time, I can't believe I'm saying this, but woman, keep your hands away from mine," San laughed, grabbing a napkin from the table and picked up the fallen steamed dumpling disposing of it in the trash can nearby. Amber found his reaction amusing and couldn't help but smile as she resumed her meal with her chopsticks. Then triumphantly, she clicked them together, after successfully lifting a piece of beef and kimchi, prompting San’s smile to grow even wider.
He began explaining each dish, his voice dropping into a nostalgic cadence as he shared stories from his youth—the street vendors in Seoul, the family gatherings where these flavors bound them together. Amber took a bite of the bulgogi, the sweet-savory explosion on her tongue making her eyes widen. "This is incredible," she murmured, and with every subsequent taste, her face lit up, drawing San's gaze like a magnet. He watched her, utterly charmed by the simple joy she found in something so familiar to him.
"You need to try this; it’s peach soju," San said, twisting the top and cracking open a bottle for her. The soft fizz escaped, carrying a fruity aroma that promised sweetness.
"Peach soju?" Amber asked, intrigued, leaning forward slightly, her shoulder grazing his arm in the close quarters of the couch.
"It’s a Korean fruit liquor. I actually prefer it to regular soju," San replied, handing her the chilled bottle that was frosty and condensating. Their fingers brushed in the exchange, lingering just a beat longer than necessary, a silent acknowledgment of the pull between them.
"Are you just trying to get me drunk so you can fuck me senseless, mister?" Amber playfully remarked with a convincing seriousness, yet her tone was lighthearted, a teasing smile gracing her lips, signaling to San that she was merely jesting. This elicited a deep, resonant laugh from him, a sound that always seemed to reverberate within her.
"Perhaps, only if you like being fuck by me when your drunk." San remarked, raising an eyebrow with a charming, boyish allure, before smiling to clearly indicate to Amber that he was speaking sarcastically.
"San!" Amber gasped his name and playfully swatted his arm, making them both burst into shared laughter.
As their laughter subsided, Amber took a sip of her peach soju, the delightful peachy sweetness blooming on her lips. "Wow! This is really delicious and quite sweet, you can really taste the peach." she exclaimed, savoring another taste, her eyes meeting his over the rim of the green bottle.
"Want to watch some Netflix? I’ve been hooked on this K-drama lately," San suggested, reaching for the remote without breaking eye contact. Amber observed him as he powered on the TV and browsed Netflix until he located the show. In that moment, watching the way his brows furrowed in concentration, she couldn't help but think that if every night with San could feel like this—effortless, intimate, alive with discovery—she would happily do it forever with him. Deep down, amid the quiet thrill of their shared space, she realized he was the man she wanted to spend her entire life with, a certainty that had been building since their intimate night by the pool, when his stories of Korea had woven into her dreams of a future together.
"Here it is! This one’s called Crash Landing on You; it’s about a South Korean heiress who accidentally paraglides into North Korea and is sheltered by a North Korean army officer, sparking a forbidden romance," San explained, settling back beside her on the couch, their thighs now pressed lightly together in the cozy confines.
"That sounds intriguing. I assume North Korea isn’t exactly a pleasant place?" Amber asked, shifting to face him more fully, her knee nudging his in a subtle gesture, yet seeking contact.
"‘Pleasant’ doesn’t even scratch the surface, princess; it’s more like a dictatorship," San responded, his tone light but his eyes serious for a flicker, holding hers with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.
"So it’s like another Hitler situation?" Amber remarked, her German heritage surfacing in the offhand comparison, a nod to the history she'd grown up with and occasionally shared in their quieter conversations.
"Another Hitler—good one, princess! But yeah, something along those lines," San laughed, the sound easing the momentary gravity. "I wouldn’t even dream of sending you there with a ten-foot pole, knowing your safety would be at risk," he added, his hand resting briefly on her knee, a protective gesture that lingered, warm and reassuring.
"Yikes! That sounds really bad then." Amber replied, returning to her meal as San hit play. The screen flickered to life, and as the K-drama began, San quickly realized it was in Korean. Without a word, he paused and switched it to English dubbed, just for her—Amber hadn't yet learned enough Korean to follow the rapid dialogue unaided.
When Amber noticed the switch, she smiled at him, a soft, genuine curve of her lips, and leaned in to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. The touch was feather-light, but it ignited a quiet spark, her breath warm against his skin. "Thank you, babe." she said, her voice hushed, intimate.
"For what, princess?" San asked, playing coy, though the corner of his mouth twitched with knowing amusement, his gaze locking onto hers in a way that made the room feel smaller, charged.
"Changing the language for me, you silly," Amber chuckled, giving him a playful shove on the arm. Her hand stayed there a second too long, fingers tracing the fabric of his shirt before pulling away.
"Oh, that? You’re welcome, sweetie." San responded, still maintaining his boyish charm, but his eyes darkened slightly, holding hers with a depth that spoke of unspoken promises.
"Is the drama available in German as well?" Amber inquired, her tone teasing, prompting a curious smile from San.
"I’m not sure, let’s check," he teased back, scrolling through the settings to switch the language. As the audio shifted to her native tongue, they both laughed at the exaggerated accents, the moment dissolving into easy camaraderie. But beneath it, the air hummed with something more—a building tension, the kind that simmered in the spaces between words.
They settled deeper into the couch, takeout boxes balanced on their laps, the drama unfolding on screen with its tale of unlikely love across borders. San's arm draped casually over the back of the couch, his fingers occasionally grazing Amber's half bare shoulder as he gestured to emphasize a plot point. Each touch was innocent on the surface— a brush of knuckles against her neck, a light tap on her arm—but it stirred a warmth in her core, a slow-building anticipation that made her hyper-aware of his proximity. Amber found herself leaning into him, her head resting against his shoulder, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering spice of dinner.
As the episode progressed, the forbidden romance on screen mirrored fragments of their own story—San's world of Korean traditions pulling her in, her fresh start in this new life intertwining with his. "Remember when you first tried saying 'saranghae'?" San murmured during a lull, his breath tickling her ear, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. It was a callback to their language session earlier, when she'd whispered the Korean word for "I love you" to him, playfully, her voice tentative but earnest, and he'd pulled her close in response.
Amber turned her face toward him, their noses nearly brushing. "How could I forget? You looked so proud, like I'd just conquered the world." Her eyes searched his, the eye contact stretching, electric, as if the room held its breath. San's hand slipped from the couch back to her shoulder, thumb tracing a lazy circle there, the touch sending a shiver down her spine.
"You're a quick study, princess. Everything you touch turns to gold." His voice was lower now, laced with that charming sincerity that always disarmed her. Amber felt a flush creep up her neck, her heart racing in the best way—the irritation of his teasing from earlier melting into pure attraction, flustered and alive.
The drama hit a tense scene, the characters separated by invisible walls and boarders, and Amber felt San’s hand grazed the back of her head affectionately before his arm instinctively encircled her waist, drawing her closer to him on the couch.
She placed her hand on his thigh, a mirroring gesture, her fingers splaying lightly against the soft fabric of his sweatpants. The contact was charged, neither pulling away, the simple press of palm to leg building a palpable tension that thrummed between them. They were so close now, bodies aligned in the dim glow of the TV, breaths syncing in the quiet pauses of the show.
"Tell me more about Korea," Amber whispered, not wanting the moment to break, her free hand running up the hard muscular planes of his abs until her warm touch reached his chest and rested there. It was a thread from their drive, those quiet moments of closeness where she'd felt the depth of his heritage drawing her in, exciting her for the life ahead.
San turned fully toward her, his knee pressing against hers, the proximity making her skin tingle. "It's chaotic in the best way—neon lights in hidden alleys, markets alive with chatter. I'd take you to the hanok villages first, show you the old ways mixed with the new. You would undoubtedly enjoy the street food stalls late at night. Even a leisurely midnight walk through the beautiful cherry blossoms that line the streets is something I have always envisioned doing with you someday." His gaze met hers, conveying a profound invitation and painting vivid images that led her to imagine strolling those streets hand in hand with him beneath the blossoming cherry trees.
"You know, there's a Korean legend that suggests if a couple takes a midnight stroll beneath the cherry blossom trees, their love will bloom eternally," San remarked as if he was suggesting... "Aw Sannie that sounds so romantic we should definitely do it together sometime." Amber replied with a contented smile, the vision stirring a longing that went beyond words. She shifted closer, her hand sliding up his arm, fingers intertwining with his in a slow, deliberate weave. The touch was intimate, fingers lacing together with a gentleness that belied the spark it ignited. San's thumb stroked the back of her hand, a rhythmic caress that mirrored the building rhythm of her pulse. "And you'd teach me more Korean under those blooming trees?" she asked, her voice soft, teasing, but her gaze unwavering.
"Of course," he promised, his free hand coming up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering at the nape of her neck. The gesture was tender, but the way his eyes darkened, tracing her lips, spoke of deeper currents. Amber felt the air thicken, the space between them shrinking to mere inches, hearts pounding in unison.
As the episode continued, San's face was inches from hers, his breath mingling with hers in the suspended quiet. Amber's eyes fluttered to his mouth, the anticipation coiling tight in her chest, a delicious ache of wanting. He leaned in ever so slightly, his hand cupping her cheek, the warmth of his palm grounding yet electrifying.
In that charged pause, with the city lights twinkling beyond the windows like distant stars, Amber knew this was the precipice—the moment where words gave way to something unspoken, their connection humming with promise. San's lips hovered near, the electricity crackling, but he whispered instead, "You're my favorite adventure, princess." His words hung in the air, witty and true, leaving her breathless, yearning for the next beat in their unfolding story. And in that suspended breath, as the world waited, their bond felt unbreakable, a romance poised on the edge of forever.
(This chapter is based on the song Spin by Lifehouse) - Yes, I know it's kind of a old early 2000's song but I just love the meaning of the lyrics. Really fits what I'm writing about you know. 😆😜
Amber stood in the steamy haze of San's bathroom, the faint scent of rose petals clinging to her damp skin like a whispered secret. The towel wrapped around her felt like a gentle embrace, but it was San's careful hands that had truly warmed her. He'd taken his time earlier, patting her shoulders and arms with a tenderness that made her pulse quicken, his touch lingering just long enough to send subtle sparks across her skin. Now, as the steam began to clear, he guided her away from the sink with a soft hand on the small of her back, the warmth of his palm seeping through her bare skin.
"Here, Mrs. Wong and I got you a little something." San said, his voice low and steady, passing her a pink gift basket neatly wrapped with a giant glittering bow that had been waiting in the corner of the sink.
His dark eyes met hers, holding a quiet intensity that made her breath hitch. "Mrs. Wong realized you didn't have any beauty products, so she went out and got you some things and put it all together in this basket. One of Mrs. Wong's many talents is house warming gifts." San said with a boyish laugh.
Amber's fingers brushed his as she took the gift basket, a playful spark igniting in her chest. "Yeah, I was wondering why you had rose petal body wash in your shower. Unless you prefer to smell like rose petals—I'm not here to judge." She teased with a lighthearted laugh, tilting her head, her lips curving into a teasing smile, the kind that always drew out his own laughter.
San chuckled, the sound rich and genuine, filling the space between them. He leaned against the counter, arms crossing loosely over his chest, but his gaze never left her face. "Nah, that's just me being observant, princess. I always smell rose petals whenever I'm around you, so I figured that's what you use."
The words landed softly, wrapping around her heart like silk. Amber felt a serene happiness bloom inside her, unexpected and warm. She hadn't realized how much San paid attention to her, right down to the little details, the way he noticed her without making a show of it. It was in these moments that their connection felt deeper, like threads weaving tighter with every shared glance. She smiled, her cheeks flushing under his steady regard. She set the gift basket down and began to open it, her eyes scanning all the contents inside as a warm smile bloomed on her face again, for she truly felt welcomed and cared for by San's and Mrs. Wong's kind gesture.
"She got you rose petal perfume, lotion, shampoo, conditioner, even makeup products, and, a hairbrush," San continued, pointing to each item with a casual flick of his fingers. His voice carried that easy attentiveness she adored, the kind that made her feel seen, truly seen. "She also got you your very own toothbrush too, it's over there, next to mine." He nodded toward the holder by the faucet, where two brushes stood, side by side, next to the gleaming black knobs of the sink.
Amber's throat tightened, not from nerves, but from the simple generosity of it all. "I really don't know what to say, San. This is absolutely generous of you and Mrs. Wong. All I can really give you right now is a simple thank you."
He stepped closer, closing the distance with that effortless grace, and took her hand in his. His thumb traced a light circle over her knuckles before he lifted them to his lips, pressing a feather-soft kiss there. It was princely, chivalrous, and utterly him—San, her Sannie, making her feel like the center of his world. "And that's all you really need to give me, Amber. Just you being here with me, content and happy, is good enough for me, remember princess, your cared for and i'll make sure I take care of you until my last breath."
The sincerity in his eyes held her captive, and for a moment, the air between them thickened with unspoken affection. Amber's free hand itched to reach for him, to trace the line of his jaw, but she held back, savoring the anticipation that hummed in her veins. "Would you like me to brush your hair out and dry it?" San asked, his voice dropping to that gentle timbre she remembered from quieter mornings, when he'd murmur reassurances after their playful tangles of limbs and laughter.
"I don't mind, but only if you have time," she replied, her gaze flicking away briefly. The thought of his Instagram live session tugged at her, a reminder of the world outside this intimate bubble. It saddened her, just a touch, knowing life pulled at him even here.
San's fingers found her chin, tipping it up with a tenderness that made her heart stutter. "Hey, look at me. I always have time for my princess. Don't think I'd ever push you aside for that, okay?" His eyes searched hers, dark and earnest, and Amber nodded, the knot in her chest unraveling under his warmth.
He smiled then, that boyish grin that always disarmed her, and moved toward the sink. Opening a drawer with practiced ease, he retrieved the hairdryer, the routine so natural it felt like they'd done this a hundred times. San rolled out a white fluffy stool from under the sink and gestured for her to sit. Amber settled onto it, the plush cushion yielding beneath her, and watched as he plugged in the dryer. She found herself chuckling when he turned it on—initially pointing it in the wrong direction, which caused him to emit a cute little 'ack' sound as a sudden burst of warm air ruffled his jet-black hair, leaving it adorably disheveled.
"Aw, did my poor strong Sannie get blasted with the hairdryer?" she teased, her voice light with affection. The sight of him like this, vulnerable and silly, only deepened the pull she felt toward him.
San laughed, setting the dryer down on the black granite countertop with a mock groan. "Yes, apparently so. I don't think this hairdryer likes me to begin with." He picked up the powder-pink hairbrush from the box, his fingers brushing hers again in the exchange—a fleeting touch that lingered in her mind. Then, with gentle strokes, he ran the bristles through her wet blonde strands, untangling them with care. Each pass felt like a caress, his proximity drawing her in, the heat of his body a subtle contrast to the cool bathroom air.
"How did you learn to brush and dry a girl's hair so well?" Amber asked, curiosity lacing her words as she met his reflection in the mirror. Their eyes locked there, a charged moment where the world narrowed to just them.
"My little sister," San replied with a soft laugh, his hands never faltering. "I used to always do her hair before we left for school. To be honest, I actually learned how to braid from some TikTok videos I watched." The admission was endearing, painting him in a new light—San, the protective brother, now turning that care toward her.
"Really? Then you're definitely going to have to braid my hair sometime, Sannie," she said, her tone playful, leaning into the nickname that always made his eyes crinkle.
"I can do that once I dry your hair," he promised, beating her to the reassurance she hadn't even voiced. "And yes, I have time to do it because I want to." Amber laughed, the sound bubbling up freely, easing the subtle tension that had built from their closeness. San had spent a considerable amount of time with Amber, leading him to a point where he could often anticipate her thoughts and what she was about to express. It was similar to how close friends might complete each other's sentences, after having developed a deep understanding over time with each other.
San finished brushing and picked up the hairdryer again, flipping it on with more caution this time. Warm air flowed over her scalp, soothing and intimate, as he worked through her hair section by section.
His free hand followed, brushing out any knots with the same attentiveness he'd shown in their stolen moments before—those mornings after, when he'd trace lazy patterns on her skin, whispering how much he cherished her. It wasn't overt, but the memory flickered in Amber's mind, heightening the electricity in the air now. Every now and then, his fingers grazed her neck or shoulder, innocent yet deliberate, sending shivers down her spine that had nothing to do with the dryer.
When her hair was thoroughly dry, soft and voluminous, San set the appliance aside. He gathered her blonde strands in his hands, his fingers grazing her flushed cheeks—definitely not accidental, judging by the smug smirk she caught in the mirror. The touch was light, but it ignited a spark, making her skin tingle.
"I saw that, San," she laughed, turning her head slightly to catch his eye.
"Really?" He feigned innocence, but his voice held a teasing lilt as his fingers began weaving her hair into a intricate dragon tail braid. The process was mesmerizing—his hands steady and skilled, pulling her hair with just enough tension to make her aware of every movement.
"Okay, you caught me, princess," he admitted, his breath warm against her ear as he leaned in closer. "I totally did that intentionally. But I can't resist not touching you sometimes. You're just too fucking irresistible."
The words hung between them, laced with a raw honesty that made Amber's heart race. She felt the braid tighten gently under his fingers, each twist mirroring the way their connection pulled taut, full of promise. San's proximity was intoxicating—his chest nearly brushing her back, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the rose petals on her skin. She wanted to turn, to close the scant distance and feel the press of his lips again, but she held still, letting him work at her hair.
Amber gazed at herself in the wide mirror in front of her, her damp hair cascading in loose waves down her back, while San stood behind her, his fingers deftly weaving the strands into a neat braid.
Once San weaved the last strand into her braid, he realized that he forgot something, which Amber picked up on after noticing his facial expression in the mirror. "What's wrong?" Amber asked, her voice light but curious, her reflection meeting his with a tilt of her head.
"Well, I just now realized that I forgot to grab a hair tie, princess." San said, his brow furrowing slightly as he held the end of the braid in place, his dark eyes flicking to hers with that boyish grin she adored—the one that always made her feel cherished, like she was the only secret worth keeping.
"Here, I always keep one on my wrist just for moments like this," Amber said, taking the hair tie off her wrist and handing it back to San. Her fingers brushed his palm in the exchange, a fleeting warmth that sent a subtle spark through her, reminding her of those playful touches from mornings past, when his firm grip on her hand had ignited a quiet thrill.
"Clever girl, thanks." San said, tying the end of the braid off with the hair tie Amber just handed him. His voice was warm, laced with admiration, as he secured the knot with care. "There, All done. What do you think, princess?"
He draped the long braid over her shoulder, allowing her to get a glimpse of it in the mirror. Amber turned her head slightly, admiring the neat braid that fell like a silken rope against her robe.
"Wow! I love it. Who knew my talented Sannie could also be a hairstylist?" she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she caught his gaze again.
San laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that filled the room and made her chest flutter. He leaned in closer, his breath grazing her ear. "Nah, all I can do is brush, dry, and braid—that's it. The rest comes from your lovely talent as a woman, Amber." He remembered the time she had dolled herself up before the ball at the palace in Germany, her elegance turning heads, and later that romantic dinner in Berlin, where her laughter had lit up the candlelit table like fireworks. Those memories wove into his words, a subtle nod to the way she always shone, no matter the setting.
"Thanks, San, for making me feel beautiful," Amber said, her voice softening with genuine appreciation for her boyfriend's attentiveness. She reached up, her hand covering his where it rested on her shoulder, feeling the steady strength there.
"You're welcome, princess," San said, placing a kiss on the top of her head. His lips lingered for a moment, soft and reassuring, before he straightened. The simple gesture wrapped around her like a warm embrace, stirring that familiar rush of affection she felt whenever he showed such care.
"Mind if I borrow a T-shirt? I didn't exactly pack for an impromptu move from Germany to Seoul." Her voice carried a light lilt, the kind that hinted at the home she'd left behind, even as she stood here in this unfamiliar rhythm of his world. The words hung in the steamy air, pulling at the threads of their shared history—the first meeting with San followed by him inviting her to dinner, and the passionate moments they had at the palace, which always left her desiring more.
San leaned against the edge of the sink, his arms bracing himself on the sink's edge, his tatted muscles shifting with effortless grace. He noticed the flicker in her gaze, that subtle pull toward nostalgia. "Of course. Anything for you." He paused, tilting his head, his eyes searching hers with that attentive depth she loved. "You look like you're missing it a bit—Germany, I mean. The way your eyes soften when you talk about it, are you homesick, baby?"
Amber nodded, running a hand through the end of her braid, droplets scattering like tiny stars onto the counter. "A little. I spent my whole life there. The cobblestone paths, the Christmas markets that smell like mulled wine and fresh pretzels... it's woven into me." She laughed softly, but there was a wistful edge to it, a thread of longing that made the air between them feel heavier, more intimate. She thought of the box of beauty products he'd passed to her just minutes ago, a gift from both him and Mrs. Wong that had led to him drying and braiding her hair, turning ordinary moments into something tender.
He stepped closer, the space between them shrinking until she could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. The proximity made her pulse quicken, a quiet anticipation building as his presence enveloped her.
"I am so sorry that I caused you to leave your home. The last thing that I wanted was for you to experience homesickness, baby." San expressed with a touch of melancholy in his voice as he affectionately brushed his finger along her soft cheek. A touch so small yet said much more then words ever could.
"San, please don't feel that way; none of this is your fault. As you can see, the world continues spinning around us, and while my own world may be upside down, I know that as long as I am with you, I wouldn't change a thing." Amber responded with a reassuring smile and gently reached up and took hold of his hand.
"Really? Well, princess in all honesty, I have to say I feel the same way about you too. All my life has found it's meaning since I first saw you in the crowd that night, and I can assure you that shit don't change, even now, I wouldn't have it any other way." San said truthfully, before pressing a light kiss to her forehead letting her know just how genuine his feelings towards her were.
"But, I do have a suggestion that might fix your homesickness." San said with a question, which immediately piqued Amber's interest, as her blue european eyes lit up with sheer inquiry.
"Really, what do you have in mind, Sannie?" Amber asked wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Next time I tour Europe, we go together. Berlin, Munich—whatever you want. We'll make it our own little adventure." His words were simple, but the way he said them, with that earnest spark in his dark eyes, sent a flutter through her chest. San's attentiveness always shone in these promises, especially the way his attentiveness could turn potential frustration into laughter that bonded them deeper.
"Really? You'd do that?" She said running her hands down the sides of his thick biceps, a fleeting touch that lingered just a second too long, sending a quiet spark up her spine. The contact was innocent, yet charged, her skin tingling where it met his, evoking memories of his possessive grip that always made her feel alive, excited in ways she couldn't quite name.
San's grin widened, and before she could say more, he scooped her up in his arms, lifting her off the stool with ease. She let out a surprised laugh, her hands instinctively gripping his shoulders as he spun her once, then twice. The joy in his movement was infectious, his laughter rumbling deep in his chest, vibrating against her. "See? This is what you do to me, Amber. You make everything brighter." He set her back down on her feet gently, but his hands stayed at her waist, thumbs tracing idle circles that made her pulse quicken. The touch was light, encouraging, a silent language of tenderness that spoke volumes about how much he cherished her.
"Thank you," she murmured, her face inches from his, the air charged with unspoken promises. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just this—the heat of his gaze, the way his breath mingled with hers. Amber felt that familiar flush creeping up her neck, the same one that came after their playful kisses, when his gaze would lock with hers and hold her captive in a world of just the two of them.
He tapped her nose lightly, a playful gesture that broke the tension just enough to let them breathe. "I'll go grab you one of my T-shirts, but just know that everything in my penthouse is yours, so you don't need to ask. You're my favorite girl, remember?" His voice dropped lower on those last words, teasing yet sincere, pulling her deeper into the warmth of their shared world. The pet name "Princess", one that he always used affectionately when addressing her, danced on the tip of his tongue, unspoken but implied in the way he looked at her, like she was his anchor in the storm of his busy life.
San's phone buzzed insistently on the sink's polished edge, the screen flickering to life with a cascade of notifications—reminders of the world beyond these walls, the one that adored him from afar. She glanced at it, a small smile tugging at her lips, knowing how those digital summons pulled at him like invisible threads.
"Speaking of the world outside, I better hop on that Instagram live now. Fans are waiting," San said, his voice carrying that easy charisma that made even mundane moments feel charged. He squeezed her hand once more, his fingers intertwining with hers in a grip that promised he'd be back soon—firm yet tender, a silent vow etched in touch.
"Alright, I might lay down for a bit while you do that. I'm still a bit exhausted because of you, Mr." Amber teased, her tone light and playful, eyes sparkling with the shared memory of their earlier fuck, where he had her going over the edge at least three times, which left her limbs heavy with contentment.
"Well, in that case, let me help you to the bed." San's response was immediate, his arms scooping her up effortlessly, cradling her against his chest as he carried her out of the bathroom. The king-size bed waited in the adjoining bedroom, its crisp white sheets a stark contrast to the dark wood accents of the room. He laid her down gently, as if she were something precious, fragile yet unbreakable. But San lingered a moment too long, his gaze locking onto hers—those beautiful European blue eyes that he could lose himself in for hours, depths that held laughter, vulnerability, and a fire that mirrored his own.
"What, why are you looking at me like that?" Amber asked, propping herself up on her elbows, wondering why he hovered there, his presence a magnetic pull.
"Nothing," he murmured, his voice dropping to that husky timbre she adored. "I'm just contemplating whether I should fetch you one of my T-shirts or just leave you bare-ass naked on my bed."
The words drew a playful bat to his chest from her hand, her laughter bubbling up. "Oh my god, Choi San, you're insatiable!"
"Hell yeah I am. You make it hard not to be, Princess." San teased, running his hand down the side of her thigh until she batted his hand away with a smirk. Just that small touch was enough to turn her on all over again. However, she was too exhausted to even act on it right now but that didn't mean that she didn't want to. Which San could easily tell just by her body language and the alluring look in her gorgeous blue eyes.
"Alright, I get it, I'll let you rest, princess." he groaned, the sound laced with amusement as he got up from her on the bed and straightened, though his eyes never left her. "at least for now." San added as if he was already promising more which excited Amber.
San stepped into his walk-in closet, the door ajar just enough for her to catch glimpses of him moving with that purposeful grace—honed from endless dance rehearsals and gym sessions that sculpted his body into something both powerful and precise. Rifling through drawers, he pulled on a pair of black sweatpants, baggy but still outlined his toned thighs perfectly, the same thighs that Amber love to ride and grind down on all day if she could. Last, came the snug black T-shirt, a challenge as it stretched taut over his biceps, clinging to the broad planes of his chest. He flexed experimentally in the mirror, smirking at the reflection, but his thoughts drifted to her—to how Amber's gaze always lingered on him, full of that quiet admiration that made his pulse quicken. Effortless confidence radiated from him, but tonight, it was all for her.
From the drawer, he selected an extra T-shirt—a soft light blue one that would bring out the gorgeous hue of her beautiful european blue eyes and swallow her frame just enough to make her look adorably cozy. When San returned, he couldn't help but smile, noticing she'd had already slipped on one of her black slips as she patiently waited on his bed for him.
"What, no bra?" he teased, his eyebrow arching in that way that always made her heart skip.
"Not tonight," Amber replied with a laugh, settling back against the pillows. "I want to be comfortable, not constricted."
San moved closer, the soft light blue T-shirt draped over his arm, his steps quiet on the black marble floor. "Here, princess. This one's my favorite—soft as your skin." The compliment slipped out casually, but the intensity in his dark eyes made it feel like a caress, reigniting that fiery burn of attraction between them. He handed her the shirt, their fingers grazing in the exchange—the touch electric, lingering as if neither wanted to sever the connection.
She slipped it on, the fabric enveloping her like his embrace—oversized, comfortable, scented with the faint trace of his cologne that she loved, a woody warmth that reminded her of lazy mornings tangled together. Once settled, San's eyes lit up, tracing her form with appreciative warmth. "Looks better on you than it ever did on me, baby."
"You're not so bad yourself," Amber shot back, her voice laced with full honesty as she admired him openly. "Damn, you look hot in that black T-shirt. Really brings out your muscles." Her gaze roamed the way the fabric rippled taut over his chest, and she laid back down, noticing how his eyes followed her every movement. It brought a smile to her face, that unwavering attention, like she was the only star in his universe.
San chuckled, a deep and genuine sound, as he sat on the edge of the bed next to her. He gently brushed her hair back, admiring how her beautiful European blue eyes instantly met his with just a small gesture. San's heart raced in his chest once her gaze locked onto him an a faint shy smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
He was aware that these subtle gestures he made towards her caused her to feel bashful and shy, yet she was so fucking beautiful and absolutely mesmerizing to him at that very moment, that he just couldn't help himself. "You know, princess, every time I look at you like this—in my t-shirt, all relaxed and glowing—I can't help but think how lucky I am. You've got this way of making the chaos of my day fade into nothing."
Amber's breath caught at the sincerity in his words, her free hand coming up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. The proximity was intoxicating; his warmth seeped through the thin barrier of air between them, and she felt the pull, that magnetic draw that had sparked from their first stolen glance backstage at one of his shows. "Sannie," she whispered, using the pet name that always softened his edges, "you're the one who turns everything upside down in the best way. Sneaking around your world, feeling that rush... it's exhilarating."
He leaned in closer, his face inches from hers, the air thickening with unspoken promises. His hand slid from hers to her wrist, where she just recently kept a hair tie for convenience. "Tell me about it," he murmured, his breath warm against her cheek. "That nervous excitement I see in your eyes when we're this close—it's addictive. Makes me want to cancel everything and just... stay here with you instead, princess."
Her pulse raced under his touch, the simple caress sending sparks up her arm. Amber shifted slightly, her leg brushing against his, the contact accidental yet deliberate in its spark. "You'd do that? For me?"
"In a heartbeat, babygirl." San's voice was low, encouraging, as if coaxing out her deepest thoughts. He cupped her cheek then, his thumb grazing her jawline with a tenderness that belied the strength in his frame. Their eyes met, holding in that charged silence, the kind where words felt superfluous. She could see the depth of his affection there—the way he looked at her not just with desire, but with a profound care that wrapped around her heart.
Amber's hand rose to cover his, pressing it closer, savoring the closeness. Memories flickered subtly: the way he'd held her after their passionate nights, his possessive grip exciting yet safe, whispering reassurances that made her feel cherished. "You make me feel so... seen, Sannie. Like I'm not just a moment in your spotlight, but the whole show."
He smiled, that boyish grin that melted her defenses, and leaned down to press a soft kiss to her forehead—lingering, affectionate, a seal on his words. "Because you are, princess. Every laugh, every tease, every time you blush under my gaze... I love it all. I love you." The confession hung between them, simple and raw, his eyes searching hers for the echo he knew would come.
"I love you too," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, the admission pulling them even nearer. Their faces were so close now, breaths mingling, the tension coiling like a spring ready to snap. San's hand trailed down her arm, a gentle caress that raised goosebumps in its wake, his fingers intertwining with hers once more. He was attentive, always so caring—adjusting the blanket over her legs without a word, ensuring her comfort even in this heated moment.
But his phone buzzed again, a distant intruder shattering the bubble. San groaned softly, his forehead resting against hers for a beat. "Duty calls," he said, reluctance threading his tone. "But this—us—it's what I come back to. Promise me you'll wait up for me, and not touch yourself baby?"
Amber nodded, her smile playful yet yearning. "Only if you promise to come back. I might just steal your pillow in the meantime."
He laughed, the sound vibrating through her, and stole one more kiss—this time to the corner of her mouth, teasing, promising more. Rising, he cast a final glance over his shoulder, his eyes dark with that unspoken hunger. "Deal, babygirl. And when I get back... we'll pick up right where we left off."
As he stepped away, the door clicking softly behind him, Amber got comfortable and sank deeper into the bed, rolling onto her side, the oversized T-shirt riding up slightly, pooling around her hips. She replayed their exchange, the electric graze of his fingers, the warmth of his breath. It wasn't just attraction; it was a deep-seated chemistry, built on stolen foot massages on the sofa, hand-in-hand walks after late studio sessions, or just they way he would slightly brush her hand with his own just to see her reaction. San had this way of making her feel both exhilarated and safe—his commanding presence balanced by a tenderness that whispered of forever.
Amber could feel The anticipation of his return hum in her veins, a delicious tension that made the wait feel alive with possibility. She traced the spot on her cheek where he kissed her, heart full, knowing that their connection was just beginning to unfold in ways neither could predict.
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The penthouse's island in the kitchen transformed under San's touch into a makeshift stage, the city lights twinkling beyond floor-to-ceiling windows like a private audience. He settled onto the bar stool, phone propped on a tripod, the live stream flickering to life. Fans flooded the chat with hearts and exclamations, their energy a familiar rush, but tonight it felt distant, overshadowed by the woman in his bed. As he answered questions with his signature charm—witty quips about rehearsals, glimpses of his day—his mind wandered back to Amber. The way her blue eyes had sparkled under his gaze, the soft curve of her smile when she teased him. It was those moments that grounded him, made the spotlight bearable.
Halfway through, a fan asked about his inspiration, and San paused, a genuine smile breaking through. "You know, lately, it's been someone special. Someone who sees past the performance to the real me. Makes everything... brighter." The chat exploded with love an support.
Immediately—emojis, hearts, and messages began flooding in even more. "How's your evening going? Mine's been... pretty great."
Fans poured in compliments: *Oppa, you look amazing!* *Oppa, your so handsome!* *ATEEZ fighting!* Questions about the band's latest comeback, his health after a tough schedule, teases about new music. San leaned into the phone on the tripod, his smile genuine as he answered. "Yeah, the tour is intense, but it's worth it. Can't wait to see you all on stage again." He shared a quick story about a funny rehearsal mishap with his members, drawing laughs from the comments. It was these connections that grounded him, turning the digital sea into something personal, like threads weaving him back to his supporters.
The stream flowed smoothly, his energy pulling everyone in. He took a sip of water, the condensation beading on the glass, and fielded more questions with that effortless charm. But then, the chat shifted. A wave of comments about Amber trickled in—*This special someone you talk about is she there? What's her name? She's so pretty, in the pictures we see online!* *You two are goals! perfect for each other!* *Tell us how you met!*
San's eyes softened, a subtle flush creeping up his neck. He paused, reading a few aloud. "Ah, you guys are too kind. Amber... she's incredible." He tilted his head back almost as if he was prideful just talking about her, his voice dropping into that intimate tone reserved for real stories. "We met at my concert in Berlin. She was in the crowd, singing along like she owned the place. Afterwards, we ended up talking, had a few shared moments here and there if you know what I mean." San replied keeping the sex part clean and professional.
The chat lit up with *Awws* and hearts. He continued, his words painting the memory vividly: the way her laughter had cut through the post-show chaos, how they'd shared quiet moments at the palace in Germany where he performed for the royal family, her hand brushing his as they walked through the palace gardens. "She's got this way with words that just... gets me. Smart, funny, and she sees the world in colors I didn't know existed." He didn't mention the fight they had earlier or the struggles they went through to get to where they are now, he also didn't mention the poisoning scare or the quiet hospital nights when he stayed, by her bedside, holding her hand and praying she would pull through, however it was there, unspoken, in the depth of his gratitude. "I'm lucky she's in my life. She makes me a better man for her."
After hearing San's heartfelt confessions, Fans flooded the comment section even more, sending in hearts and emojis that danced on the screen like fireflies, but as the clock ticked past, the vibe in the comment section soured faster than milk left in the sun.
It started with a whisper of venom—a snide remark about the blonde woman who San was kissing in one of the Paparazzi photos. Amber. San's jaw tightened as the hostility bloomed, sasaeng fans no doubt, those obsessive shadows who'd latched onto him since his breakout in the K-pop industry. He scanned the feed, replying to the tame ones with a polite deflection: "Hey, let's keep it positive, yeah? Appreciate the love." But the ones that crossed into ugliness? He addressed them head-on, yet his voice steady, laced with the professionalism he'd honed over years of spotlights and scandals. "That's not cool. Respect boundaries, everyone."
The escalation hit like a storm surge. Death threats scrolled in, pixels of rage aimed at Amber, the woman San cherished more than any award or sold-out show. But it was the creepier ones that ignited a fire in his veins—sexist jabs from what San could only imagine was from male commenters, probing questions about her virginity, crude taunts about her body, fantasies of violence twisted into something grotesque. "Bet she can't take dick," one read. "I'd show her what real pounding means." San's heart hammered, jealousy coiling like a serpent in his chest. His hands balled into fists, knuckles whitening against the cool stone. Warmth flushed his skin, a mix of fury and protectiveness that blurred his vision. Professionalism teetered on the edge, threatening to shatter.
Before it could, San ended the stream with a clipped, "Gotta sign off, thanks for tuning in, everyone." He tossed his phone onto the table, the motion careless, and it skidded across the black granite countertop, knocking into Amber's purse. Her purse toppled over, spilling it's contents to the floor like confetti from a ruptured piñata—lip balm rolling under the grey stainless steel fridge, keys clinking against everything as it toppled to the ground, and a pair of sunglasses skittering across the black marble floor like escaped marbles.
"Shit," San muttered under his breath, the word barely audible in the quiet kitchen. He rounded the island in a hurry, dropping to his knees to gather the mess.
His fingers brushed the cool floor as he scooped up the items: the sunglasses first, then a stray tampon that made him pause for half a heartbeat. That's when he spotted it—a slim white stick half-hidden beneath the table leg, innocuous at first glance. He reached for it, brow furrowing. "Could this be...?" The thought trailed off as he lifted it into the light.
On the small rectangular screen were the digital words "pregnant" staring back at him, bold and unmistakable.
The air thickened, the penthouse's usual airy vibe turning leaden. San rose slowly, the stick clutched in his hand like a fragile artifact from another world. Footsteps padded from the hallway, soft and tentative. Amber emerged, wearing his light blue T-shirt that draped over her like an oversized tent, two sizes too big but somehow making her look adorably fierce. Her slender legs, bare and glowing in the dim penthouse light, carried her forward with that quiet grace he adored. She was mid-sentence, something about grabbing a drink of water because her throat was dry, until San turned around to face her, her eyes immediately growing wide after she spotted the pregnancy test held tightly in his grip. Her words evaporated, leaving an oppressive silence that pressed against the walls.
"Amber," San said, his voice low and edged with disappointment, his eyes dark as the night beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. "When were you going to tell me about this?"
Tears welled in her eyes, tracing silver paths down her cheeks. She stood frozen, the enormity of the moment rendering her speechless, her hands twisting the hem of his shirt.
"Answer me!" The sternness in his tone made her jump, a sharp intake of breath that echoed in the stillness. Amber's heart pounded; she knew that look, the storm brewing behind San's eyes. He was pissed, the kind of anger that came from hurt, from feeling sidelined in something monumental.
"I... I didn't know how," she finally whispered, voice cracking like thin ice. "I only found out this morning. I was going to tell you tonight, after your stream. I swear, San."
San set the test down on the granite countertop with deliberate care, as if it might shatter under too much force. His eyes, usually warm like sun-baked sand, were stormy now. "After the stream? You think I wouldn't notice something like this spilling out? Amber, this isn't just some surprise party. This is... us. A baby. Our baby."
She stepped closer, tears blurring her vision, but the proximity only amplified the tension crackling between them. San's chest rose and fell with restrained breaths, his broad shoulders tense beneath his fitted black tee. Amber reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing his arm—a fleeting touch that sent a spark through both of them, grounding and electric all at once. "I was scared, San." she admitted, her voice gaining strength. "We've been so caught up in our new life here, and I was scared about potentially jeopardizing your career if I had informed you earlier. Not to mention, you still have a tour to finish once I am settled. I did not wish to burden you with this information while you were attending to all that.
San's gaze softened fractionally, but the disappointment lingered. He turned away, running a hand through his dark jet black hair, pacing the length of the kitchen island. The city lights twinkled mockingly outside, a distant symphony to their private turmoil. "Scared? Or did you think I couldn't handle it? Amber, I've faced crowds of thousands, Haters trying to tear me apart. But this? You keeping it from me—that hurts more than any comment section."
Amber wiped her cheeks, stepping into his path, close enough now that she could feel the heat radiating from him. Her bare feet whispered against the cool marble floor, and she tilted her head up to meet his eyes. There was something raw in that eye contact, a bridge over the chasm of their argument, pulling them inexorably closer. "It's not that. I know you, San. You're all in, always. But I needed to process it first. To make sure it was real." Her hand found his again, lingering this time, fingers intertwining with a gentleness that belied the storm. The touch was intimate, a silent plea for understanding, and San didn't pull away. Instead, his thumb traced a slow circle on her skin, the gesture charged with unspoken words.
He exhaled sharply, the sound ragged. "Process it alone? We're a team, Amber. Or at least, I thought we were." His free hand hovered near her waist, as if debating whether to pull her in or push back the vulnerability. The air between them hummed, thick with the weight of what they'd built—the late-night talks after his performances, the way she'd surprise him with her quick wit and teasing jabs, turning exhaustion into laughter.
She squeezed his hand, drawing him nearer until their breaths mingled, the proximity igniting a familiar warmth low in her belly. "We are. I just... froze. The word pregnant appeared, and all I could think was how perfect it could be, but also how chaotic. Your world, my quiet one—blending with a little life?" Her eyes searched his, vulnerability mirroring his own, building a bridge of shared anticipation.
San's jaw unclenched slowly, the fight draining from his posture. He lifted his other hand to cup her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. The touch was tender, lingering, sending a shiver through her that had nothing to do with the cool night air seeping through the windows. "Chaotic? Yeah, it'll be that. But perfect too. God, Amber, a baby. Our baby. You don't know how happy this makes me." The words hung between them, shifting the tension from anger to something deeper, more electric—a promise of futures intertwined.
They stood there, bodies inches apart, the kitchen fading into irrelevance. Amber's heart raced, not from fear now, but from the pull of him—the way his presence filled the space, making the penthouse feel like home. San's eyes darkened, not with rage, but with a hunger for connection, for her. His fingers trailed from her cheek to the nape of her neck, a light pressure that made her lean in instinctively. The moment stretched, charged with possibility, their breaths syncing in the quiet.
San pulled back slightly, though his hand remained on hers. "You should've trusted me though. Told me right away." His voice was softer now, but the edge remained, a reminder of the hurt.
Amber nodded, stepping even closer, her body brushing against his in the narrow space by the counter. The contact was accidental yet deliberate, fabric whispering against fabric, heightening the awareness of every curve and line. "I do trust you. More than anyone. That's why I wanted it to be right." She placed her free hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart beneath her palm—a rhythm that quickened at her touch. Eye contact held, intense and unwavering, pulling them into a world where only they existed.
San's resolve cracked then, a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself. "You're impossible, you know that?" He drew her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, the gesture intimate and lingering. Warmth spread from the point of contact, a slow burn that promised more. Amber's breath hitched, the anticipation coiling tighter, their proximity a delicious torment.
They talked then, really talked, sinking onto the bar stools at the island. San recounted the stream's ugliness, the way the comments had twisted his protectiveness into jealousy. Amber listened, her leg brushing his under the counter, an unconscious anchor that sent subtle sparks through them both. She shared her day—the bathroom at the hospital, the quiet joy of seeing that positive digital word on the pregnancy test, yet the fear of disrupting his whirlwind life. Their words wove together, building layers of understanding, each shared glance and touch deepening the chemistry that had always simmered between them.
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(This chapter is based on the song Distraction by Kehlani and Pussy fairy by jhené Aiko)
As the elevator doors to the penthouse slid open with a soft chime, San and Amber stepped out together, the cool rush of conditioned air hitting them like a welcome exhale after the day's grind. The spacious living room stretched out before them, all sleek lines and floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the sprawling cityscape below—not that either noticed right away. San shrugged off his suit jacket, the fabric whispering as it landed on the sofa, and tugged his necktie loose, letting it drape over the armrest like an afterthought. Amber, meanwhile, set her clutch purse on the kitchen island with a quiet clink, then kicked off her YSL heels by the coffee table, wincing as her bare feet met the cool black marble floor.
"Fuck, my feet are killing me," she groaned, flexing her toes and rubbing one arch against the other. "Those heels are gorgeous, but they turn every step into a goddamn battle."
San glanced over, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched her. He was already loosening his shirt collar, with a few buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of the strong, muscular, planes of his toned chest.
"Come here, princess. Let me fix that." He patted the sofa beside him, his voice low and easy, the kind that always made her stomach flip just a little. Amber didn't need convincing—she padded over, sinking into the cushions with a sigh, and swung her legs up onto his lap when he gestured.
His hands were warm and sure as they started on her feet, thumbs pressing into the sore spots with just enough pressure to draw out the tension. He worked methodically, kneading the balls of her feet, then sliding up to her ankles, where the strain from the long day had settled like a knot. They fell into that easy rhythm of conversation that couples build over time—light, teasing, the kind that felt like breathing.
"You were a beast in the studio today," Amber said, her eyes half-closed as his fingers circled her calf. "I loved watching you lay down those tracks. The way you get lost in it... it's hot as hell.
San's smile widened, genuine pride flickering in his eyes. He remembered the way she'd lingered in the doorway earlier that week, her presence a quiet boost while he tweaked the beats. "Yeah? Made me feel like a king having you there." His hands paused for a second, squeezing her ankle. "But you? That interview you crushed? Watching my Miss Independent fire off those answers like a pro, fuck, that was sexy. Got me all possessive, thinking how no one else gets to see you like that up close."
She laughed, a soft, bubbly sound that made his chest tighten. "Possessive, huh? Careful, or I'll start charging for the view." The banter flowed, laced with those little compliments that hit deeper than words—him proud of her confidence, her drawn to the focus he poured into his work. It was moments like this that made the chaos of their lives feel grounded.
Eventually, San eased off, giving her feet one last gentle rub. "Better?"
"Much," Amber murmured, sitting up to flex her toes. "You're a lifesaver. I think I'm gonna hop in the shower—wash off this day." She tilted her head, eyes sparkling with invitation. "Care to Join me?"
San hesitated, his thumb tracing idle patterns on her skin. "Wish I could, princess, but I've got that Instagram live with the fans here in a bit. Can't bail on them." He saw the flicker of understanding in her expression—she knew the drill, the pull of his career that came with their relationship.
"Fair enough, I get it." she said, leaning in to brush her lips against his cheek. "Next time, though. I want you in that shower with me with that jet attachment. The way you hold it against me hits just right." Her voice dropped, teasing, and San's grin turned wicked, his mind flashing to their last shower together, the way the pulsing water had made her gasp and arch against him.
"Can't say no to that, princess," he replied, his hand sliding up her thigh for a quick squeeze.
Amber stood, but before she could pull away, San's grasped her wrist, tugging her back down onto his lap. "Not so fast, princess" he murmured, capturing her mouth in a deeper kiss. She melted into it for a beat, her fingers threading through his soft jet black hair, but then she laughed against his lips, playful and breathless.
"You're impossible," she whispered, nipping his bottom lip before finally wriggling free. She shot him a look over her shoulder—half bashful, half promising—as she headed toward the bedroom, her hips swaying just enough to make him chuckle. Like a puppy scampering off with a secret, she vanished through the door, leaving San shaking his head, already counting down to that live session's end.
In the bedroom, Amber stripped out of her dress, the fabric pooling at her feet like shed skin. She caught her reflection in the full-length mirror—curves flushed from the evening, hair tousled, and that slight, barely noticeable, baby bump that she hadn't told San about yet. However, Amber tried to push that thought aside and just focused on San's hands on her feet, which was innocent enough, but the way he looked at her, that proud, hungry look in his eyes... it stuck with her.
Amber stepped into the en-suite bathroom, the chilly marble floor biting into her bare feet like a wake-up call she didn't ask for. She twisted the shower knob to its hottest setting, and within seconds, steam billowed up, turning the air thick and hazy. Hot water cascaded over her skin, slicking down her curves, washing away the day's grime from her conference—those endless panels where she'd nailed every question, drawing admiring glances that San had later teased her about over lazy couch chats. But now, alone, her mind wandered, as it always did in these steamy escapes. She thought of San's earlier tug on her wrist, pulling her back for one more kiss before she slipped away, his voice low as he called her "princess" like it was his to claim. Her hand drifted down, fingers brushing her inner thigh, imagining it was his rough palm instead, possessive and demanding.
That jet attachment she'd bragged about to him? No joke—the last time, he'd held it right against her clit, pulsing in time like the beat he'd been layering in his studio, making her buck and swear his name until she shattered. Fuck, she needed him now, even if he was stuck dealing with fans online. The ache between her legs grew insistent, and she grabbed the jet from its holder, twisting it to that same throbbing rhythm he'd set it at before. Her free hand cupped her breast, thumb circling her hardening nipple, pulling a soft moan from her lips. She was just about to angle it lower, right where she craved it, when the door creaked open behind the glass.
Amber froze, water pounding her shoulders, and turned to see San lounging against the frame. His shirt hung unbuttoned and loose, revealing the hard lines of his chest and abs, still marked faintly from their last rough tumble where he'd pinned her down, growling about how no one else got to see her like this. His eyes raked over her naked body through the fogged pane, dark and hungry, like he'd been standing there savoring the view for minutes.
"Live session got postponed," he said, voice gravelly, already shedding his shirt as he kicked the door shut. "Fans can wait. I can't."
Her pulse hammered, heat pooling low in her belly at his bluntness. "Oh, really? And what do you plan to do, Sannie?" Amber shot back, keeping her tone light, teasing, but her body betrayed her—nipples pebbling tighter under the spray, a flush crawling up her neck.
San took off his shirt and stripped off his pants in one fluid motion, his cock springing free, thick and half-hard, twitching as it swelled toward full mast. Steam clung to his skin as he stepped closer, the water hitting him like an invitation. "Thought I'd help with that shower. Make it more...pleasurable." He plucked the jet from her hand, fingers grazing hers with electric intent, and his lips curved when he noticed the setting. "Look at you, princess, all set up like I taught you. Trying to get off without me?"
"Well, in my defense, you turned down my sexy ass earlier," she quipped, making him chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.
"True. But it's fucking hard to focus knowing my baby's in here touching herself instead of letting me do it." San's gaze dropped to her parted lips, then lower, possessive.
Amber backed against the tiled wall, the cool shock of it against her heated skin making her gasp. She spread her legs just enough, whispering hot against his ear, "Then show me how much better you are than my own hands."
"Say it's with your body, baby and you don't gotta tell me twice." San's breath ghosted her neck as he lowered the jet between them, the pulsating water teasing her folds first—warm bursts hitting her sensitive skin, making her hips jerk. He angled it precisely, the steady thrum locking onto her clit, and Amber's knees buckled, a whine escaping her throat.
"Fuck, Sannie," she breathed, hands flying to his shoulders for balance. The water's rhythm mimicked his thrusts from memory—the time in the studio where he'd hiked her dress up past her hips and bent her over the mixing board fucking her right there against all the knobs and buttons, whispering how fucking beautiful she was like this. But this was slower, deliberate, building her up as his free hand roamed her body, thumb flicking her nipple hard enough to sting.
"Look at you, already soaking for me. This pussy's mine, isn't it, princess?" San's voice dropped, dirty and commanding, his dom side surfacing like it always did when she pushed him. He pressed closer, his cock nudging her thigh, hot and insistent against the cooler spray. Amber nodded, biting her lip, but he shook his head. "Say it."
"Yours," she gasped, the jet's pulses making her clit throb, her walls clenching around nothing. "All fucking yours Sannie."
"Good girl." He rewarded her with a deep kiss, tongue invading her mouth, tasting the water on her lips as he amped the pressure. Her moans muffled against him, body arching as the pleasure coiled tight. San's fingers joined in, one slipping between her folds to circle her entrance, teasing without entering. "You been thinking about my dick all day? Bet you have, after teasing me on the couch like that."
Amber whimpered, nodding frantically, her hands tangling in his wet hair. The contrast of the cool wall, hot water, and that relentless jet had her teetering on the edge already. San growled low, nipping her earlobe. "Beg for it, baby. Tell me how bad you want my fingers inside you."
"Please, Sannie—fuck, put them in me. I need you stretching me." Her voice cracked, submissive and raw, the way he loved pulling it out of her.
He obliged, sliding two thick fingers into her slick heat, curling them right against her g-spot with practiced ease. The jet stayed firm on her clit, and Amber cried out, the dual assault making stars burst behind her eyelids. "That's it, princess, take it. Feel how wet you are for me? Dripping all over my hand." San pumped his fingers slow at first, then faster, his thumb brushing her entrance as he worked her open. Her walls fluttered, gripping him tight, and she rocked against his hand, chasing the build.
The orgasm hit her like a wave, her body seizing as she squirted, clear fluid mixing with the shower spray, soaking his wrist. "Oh god, San—fuck!" She sobbed, tears mixing with the water on her cheeks, overwhelmed by the intensity, but he didn't stop, murmuring encouragements.
"There you go, babygirl, cum for me. So fucking pretty when you squirt like that." His voice was a rumble, eyes locked on her face, drinking in every whimper and tremble. Amber sagged against him, aftershocks rippling through her, but San was far from done. He shut off the jet, tossing it aside, and dropped to his knees in the spray, water sluicing over his broad shoulders.
"Time to taste what's mine." Before she could catch her breath, his mouth was on her, tongue lapping at her oversensitive folds, sucking her clit between his lips with a hungry groan. Amber's hands fisted in his hair, tugging as she ground against his face, the tile scraping her back. "Sannie—too much, oh fuck," she whined, but her hips betrayed her, fucking his tongue like she couldn't get enough.
He hummed against her, the vibration sending jolts up her spine, his hands gripping her ass to pull her closer. "Never too much for this pussy. Taste so goddamn good, princess—sweet and salty from cumming." San's tongue delved deep, fucking into her with broad strokes, then flicking her clit again, building her toward another peak. He added fingers once more, three this time, stretching her wide, hitting that spot relentlessly. Amber's legs shook, tears streaming freely now, not from pain but the raw overload of pleasure. "Cry for me, baby. Let it out—I got you."
She shattered again, screaming his name, her release flooding his mouth as he swallowed greedily, groaning like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. "Yes, fuck yes—give me everything." San lapped her through it, not letting up until she was a trembling mess, pulling back only when she tugged his hair weakly.
Rising, he captured her mouth in a bruising kiss, letting her taste herself on his tongue. "My turn to feel that mouth, babygirl." His cock was rock-hard now, thick and veined, pressing against her stomach. Amber sank to her knees without a word, the water making everything slick, and wrapped her hand around his base, stroking as she looked up at him through wet lashes.
"Fuck, princess, those beautiful blue eyes of yours, their so intoxicating." San's hand cupped her jaw, guiding her forward. She took him in, lips stretching around his girth, tongue swirling the head to taste the pre-cum beading there. He was big, always filling her mouth to the limit, and she hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard as she bobbed, taking him deeper with each pass. San's head fell back, a guttural groan tearing from his throat. "Shit, just like that—suck my dick, baby. Deeper, yeah, gag on it for me."
She did, relaxing her throat until he hit the back, tears pricking her eyes again from the effort, but the way he growled her name made it worth it. Her free hand fondled his balls, rolling them gently, and San's hips bucked, fucking her mouth with shallow thrusts. "Goddamn, your throat's so tight—gonna make me cum if you keep that up." But he pulled out before he could, hauling her up and spinning her to face the wall, her cheek pressed to the cool tile.
"Need to fuck you now, princess. Been hard ever since you kissed me on the couch." His cock slid between her thighs, teasing her entrance, slick with her arousal. Amber pushed back, desperate. "Please, Sannie—fuck me hard. Pound my pussy."
He slammed in with one thrust, bottoming out, his big dick stretching her to the brink. "Fuck, so tight—take every inch, babygirl." San set a brutal pace, hands on her hips, pulling her back onto him as he drove deep, hitting her g-spot with every snap. The shower echoed with wet slaps and her moans, his grunts mixing in. "You feel that? My cock owning you—say it."
"Yours—fuck, all yours!" Amber cried, walls clenching around him, the fullness making her see spots. He reached around, fingers finding her clit, rubbing in tight circles to match his thrusts. She came again quickly, squirting around his dick, soaking them both, her sobs turning to whimpers as he kept going, unrelenting.
"That's my girl, cum on my cock. Keep squeezing me like that." San flipped her around, lifting one leg over his hip to angle deeper, pounding up into her while kissing her neck, sucking marks into her skin. "Look at me when you cum again, princess. Want to see your eyes roll back."
She did, locking gazes as the pressure built, his dirty words pushing her over. "Sannie—gonna cum, oh god—" Her orgasm ripped through her, tears spilling as she wailed, body convulsing. San growled, thrusting harder, chasing his own release. "Fuck, baby, me too-you're gonna make me fucking explode...yeah...tell me that you want it...tell me you want my dick just shooting up...all this load inside your pussy...filling you up with every last fucking drop...yes yes yes...look at me, look at me while I'm fucking coming!" Amber forced her eyes open, watching the raw pleasure twist his face, his grunts turning guttural, animalistic. He came with a roar, hips stuttering as he pumped her full, hot spurts of cum flooding her, his creamy load dripping down her thighs with the water. "Take it all—fuck, yeah princess!"
They stayed locked like that, panting, until he gently pulled out of her with a wet, reluctant pop, leaving her feeling empty and achingly full all at once. They stood there under the warm spray, bodies pressed close, hearts hammering in sync. Amber's legs trembled, her pussy throbbing from the relentless pounding he'd given her—three orgasms, he'd counted them out loud, each one ripping through her like a storm.
"Fuck yes, baby," San groaned, his voice rough and low, eyes dark with that possessive hunger she craved. "Show me. Show me that fucking load inside you."
Amber's cheeks burned, but the thrill of it overrode any shred of modesty. She spread her legs wider, bracing one foot on the shower ledge, her fingers sliding through her slick folds. She parted herself for him, exposing the creamy mess he'd left behind—his cum dripping out in thick, white rivulets, mixing with her own juices. It felt filthy, empowering, the way his gaze locked on her wrecked pussy, lips parting in raw appreciation. Pride swelled in her chest; she loved how he looked at her like this, like she'd wrecked him right back.
"Fuck, you're so beautiful, princess," San breathed, leaning in to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, nipping at the sensitive spots that still buzzed from their frenzy. His hands roamed her hips, steadying her as she shivered.
She sighed, tilting her head to give him better access, the pleasure sparking fresh even in the afterglow. "Fuck, you're such a good girl," he murmured against her skin, then pulled back to cup her cheeks, thumbs brushing her flushed face. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, He lingered there for a moment before playfully giving her a series of small, quick kisses, which made her giggle.
"Did I do a good job?" Amber asked, her voice small but hopeful, eyes searching his.
San laughed, that boyish grin gracing his face—the one that always made her stomach flip. "Fuck yeah." He nodded, as he turned off the shower with a flick of his wrist. The cooling spray died to a trickle, and he wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close under the last drops. San nuzzled her neck, lips brushing her ear. "You were fucking incredible, princess. The way you took me, squeezing around my dick like you never wanted me to stop. Makes me want to fill you up again right now..." san paused, pulling back from her neck and glancing down at her exhausted face before adding "But I'll save that for later since it looks like I fucked you real good." San boyishly laughed after noticing her weary, half-closed eyes.
San placed Another kiss to her forehead, then her lips—soft and tender now. "You still doing okay, babygirl? I know that was intense. Had you coming at least three times."
Amber nodded, smiling weakly, her body humming with satisfaction, muscles loose and sated. "More than okay. You're always worth the wait, Sannie." He chuckled, low and warm, helping her step out onto the bathmat. His firm hands gripped her waist, hoisting her up onto the black granite countertop of the bathroom sink with effortless strength. The cool stone bit into her bare ass, a sharp contrast to the heat of his touch as he grabbed a towel from the rack and started drying her off—slow, attentive strokes over her shoulders, down her arms, between her breasts.
He was always like this after, the caring boyfriend who doted on her and only her. San's fingers lingered on her skin, tracing the curve of her collarbone, the swell of her hip. "You know I love taking care of you, especially after sex, right?" he said softly, toweling her thighs, careful around the sensitive area between. His eyes flicked up to meet hers, full of that quiet intensity. "Makes me feel like the luckiest man alive."
Amber's heart twisted, a pang of guilt slicing through the warmth. She hadn't told him yet—about the pregnancy test she'd taken that morning, the digital word pregnant flashing across the small rectangular screen, staring back at her in the harsh bathroom lights of the hospital. It was theirs, this secret growing inside her, but fear kept her lips sealed. What if it changed everything? San was her rock, but the timing... fuck, she needed to find the right moment. For now, she pushed it down, focusing on the way his hands moved, gentle and reverent.
"You're too good to me," she whispered, reaching out to trace his jawline, still damp from the shower. The chiseled line of his Jaw brushed under her fingertips, and she pulled him in for a kiss—slow, deep, tongues sliding lazily.
San hummed into her mouth, dropping the towel to cup her face again. "Nah, princess. You deserve it all." He broke the kiss to grab another towel, drying himself off quickly before stepping between her legs, his naked body pressing close. His cock, still half-hard and glistening, brushed her inner thigh, sending a spark through her. But he didn't push for more; instead, he wrapped the towel around her shoulders, rubbing warmth into her arms.
They stayed like that for a minute, the bathroom mirror fogged over and the only sounds that could be heard in the fogged space was their breathing and the distant hum of the city outside his penthouse window. Amber loved this view from up here—the sprawl of lights twinkling like stars fallen to earth—but right now, all she saw was him. His dark eyes scanned her face, intense and searching, like he could peel back every layer she tried to hide.
"What's on your mind, baby? You look... distant. I noticed it ever since we left the studio." His voice was low, laced with that quiet concern that always made her chest tighten.
Amber shook her head, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Just thinking about how much I love this. Us." It wasn't a total lie—the warmth of his presence, the way he made her feel seen, it all soothed the edges of her exhaustion. But the guilt twisted deeper, a secret knot in her gut she couldn't untie. She was pregnant, and she hadn't told him. Not yet. The words stuck like thorns every time she opened her mouth.
"Good," San murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned in. His mouth claimed hers in a slow, deep kiss, his hands roaming her sides with familiar ease. They slid up her ribs, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts, then lower, tracing the curve of her hips. Amber shivered, heat blooming low in her belly despite the bone-deep tiredness from their day. His touch ignited her, pulling her back from the edge of her thoughts.
"Sannie..." She sighed softly, her fingers grazing his jaw to snag his attention.
He pulled back just enough to grin, that teasing spark lighting his eyes. "What? Can't handle me touching you, babygirl?" His voice dropped to a husky rumble. "Bet your pussy's still dripping with my cum. Want me to check? Slide my fingers in and see how messy I left you?"
She bit her lip, her thighs clenching instinctively around his hips. "You're terrible."
"Terribly in love with you," he shot back with a boyish laugh, pressing a quick kiss to her nose before capturing her mouth again. It started playful, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip, but it deepened fast—his tongue sweeping in, tasting her with a hunger that made her head spin. One hand tangled in her wet blonde hair, tugging just enough to tilt her head back, while the other cupped her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers until it hardened into a tight peak.
Amber melted into him, the guilt fading under the onslaught of his affection. She hooked one leg over his hip, pulling him closer, feeling the twitch of his cock against her stomach as it stiffened again. San groaned into the kiss, breaking it to drag his lips down her throat, sucking lightly at the pulse point that fluttered under his mouth. "Fuck, princess, you drive me crazy. Every time we're apart, I think about this—your body against mine, the sounds you make when I fuck you just right."
His hand kneaded her breast, thumb circling her nipple with deliberate pressure, sending sparks straight to her core. "Remember in the studio? You teasing me with that whisper, getting me so hard I almost bent you over the mixing board right there."
Amber laughed breathlessly, the memory hitting her like a rush—the thrill of sneaking into his world, his commanding vibe making her pulse hammer as he'd pinned her against the wall earlier that afternoon, his warm breath on her neck, voice rough with need. "How could I forget? You looked ready to devour me."
"I was," he murmured, pinching her nipple gently and drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. "Still am." He kept that intense gaze locked on hers, watching every flicker of reaction as his fingers rolled the sensitive bud, the pressure building electric jolts through her body. But San didn't rush. He eased down, trailing soft kisses along her collarbone, dipping into the valley between her breasts, then lower to the soft skin above her navel. He sank to his knees on the bathmat, his hands sliding up her thighs, thumbs pressing into the tender insides.
Looking up at her, his eyes smoldered with a question, permission hanging in the air. "Let me taste you, baby. Clean up my mess."
Her breath hitched, fingers threading through his damp hair. "San... I'm exhausted, sweetie."
He didn't move, just held her gaze, voice dropping even lower. "Say yes, princess. Let me make you come on my tongue, just one more time for me... please, babe?"
Amber's mind reeled—Sannie begging? It was new, and fuck, it was hot. The way his voice cracked with want made her thighs quiver. How could she say no? "Okay, but only one more time. I don't want your fans coming after me because I kept you from your Instagram live."
San laughed, the sound warm and rumbling as he settled between her legs. "That's my good girl." He parted her folds with his thumbs, exposing her to the cool air, then dove in. His tongue was hot and flat against her, lapping at the slick mix of their earlier release—his cum still leaking from her, mingled with her own arousal. He circled her clit slowly at first, teasing the swollen nub before dipping lower, fucking into her with shallow thrusts of his tongue.
Amber arched back against the foggy mirror, her body squirming on the hard sink edge, a moan spilling from her lips. The sensitivity from their earlier fuck in the shower made every stroke feel amplified, like live wires sparking under her skin. "Oh fuck, Sannie—right there."
He hummed against her pussy, the vibration shooting straight through her core, making her hips buck. "Your pussy tastes so fucking good, babygirl. All messy with my cum—mine to lick up." He sucked her clit into his mouth, gentle pulls that had her gasping, then slid two fingers deep inside her, curling them to hit that spongy spot that made stars burst behind her eyelids.
She chased the building pressure, thighs trembling around his head, one hand fisting his hair while the other braced against the sink. San worked her relentlessly, his free hand gripping her hip to hold her steady, tongue flicking faster now, fingers pumping in a rhythm that matched the throb of her pulse. The wet sounds of his mouth on her filled the bathroom, obscene and intoxicating, her arousal coating his chin.
"Fuck, princess, you're clenching so tight around my fingers. You gonna come for me? Soak my face like the good girl you are?" His words vibrated against her, dirty and encouraging, pushing her higher.
Amber's breath came in pants, the coil in her belly winding tighter. "San—yes, don't stop—oh god." Her body remembered him too well, the way he'd taken her rough earlier, his possessive grip leaving faint marks on her hips. She loved that raw need in him, especially after days apart, and it fueled her now, her pride in showing him every inch of her body making her arch bolder.
He added a third finger, stretching her just enough to border on too much, his tongue relentless on her clit. She shattered with a cry, her pussy pulsing around his fingers, waves of pleasure crashing through her as she came hard, thighs squeezing his head. San didn't let up, lapping her through it until she was whimpering, oversensitive and boneless.
When she finally slumped, he rose slowly, kissing his way back up her body—soft presses to her navel, her breasts, her throat—before capturing her lips. She tasted herself on him, salty and mixed with him, and it sent a lazy aftershock through her.
"You okay, baby?" he softly murmured, his voice now gentle, as he tenderly cupped her face in his hands, caressing both sides with slow, soothing strokes, conveying his deep admiration for her.
Amber nodded, pulling him into a hug, her cheek against his chest. "More than okay. You're too good to me, Sannie."
He chuckled, grabbing a warm washcloth from the counter and gently cleaning between her legs, his touch careful, attentive. It was one of those things she cherished—his aftercare, the way he'd always make sure she felt cared for, like she was the only thing that mattered. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then her temple. "I love you, princess. So fucking much. You know that, right? Every part of you—your laugh, your fire, the way you take me apart. I can't imagine this without you."
The words hit her like a punch, the guilt surging back. She buried her face in his neck, inhaling his clean scent, fighting the urge to spill everything. Not now, not like this. "I love you too," she whispered, meaning it fiercely.
pure smut - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! explicit content, dirty talk, cussing, teasing, petnames princess, baby, babygirl, Sannie, oral sex, female and male receiving, slight female masturbation, fingering, clit play, breast play, makeout, kissing, licking, moaning, groaning, growling, dom x sub, big dick!sansang, begging, female whimpering, creampie, multiple orgasms.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
(This chapter is based on the song Often (Rendition) Or Nah (Rendition) by SoMo)
Amber stepped into the recording booth, the air thick with the scent of fresh coffee from Jaemin's mug outside and the faint hum of equipment warming up. San's hand lingered on her waist a second too long as he guided her forward, his fingers brushing the seam of her dress. "Come here, Princess, have a listen," he urged, his voice low and gravelly, like he was already half-lost in whatever filthy thought was brewing in his head. The room felt cozy, padded walls swallowing every stray sound, leaving just the soft glow of the microphone stand catching the light from a single overhead bulb that flickered like it was in on their secret.
He slid the oversized headphones over her ears, the foam cups pressing against her skin, cord snaking out to the console where Jaemin fiddled with the knobs. San nodded to him through the glass, and Jaemin hit play on the track San had been tweaking for days—a slow, seductive beat that pulsed like a heartbeat in the dark, lyrics weaving through about raw hunger, bodies colliding in the haze of morning light. Amber's mind flashed to earlier that morning, waking up tangled in San's sheets, his breath hot against her neck as he muttered nothing but filth in her ear. "Gonna fuck you so deep you forget your own name," he'd growled, thrusting into her hard and relentless, her legs wrapped around his hips, nails digging into his back while he pinned her down. Those moments were San's obsession, the kind that left her sore and smiling.
The song wrapped around her like his arms did, every line a echo of their stolen hours. "What are your thoughts on the song so far, princess?" San asked, his eyes locked on hers, hungry for more than feedback.
Amber bit her lip, feeling the heat build low in her belly. She hadn't told him yet—couldn't, not with everything so new and fragile. The secret sat heavy in her chest, her hand reaching up to brush her stomach before she caught herself. "I loved it—everything, from the sound, to the lyrics, to you. We’ve definitely captured the essence of everything mentioned in the lyrics, haven’t we?" She knew it was about her, every word a confession wrapped in melody.
"Clever girl. You figured all that out just by listening to one track?" San asked, a smirk tugging at his lips and Amber nodded, His gaze suddenly dropping to her mouth, and he leaned in, close enough that she could smell the mint on his breath mixed with the faint sweat from their earlier fuck in his car. Their lips were inches apart, the air electric, until Jaemin's voice crackled through the speaker saying "Hey San?" "What the fuck do you want, Jaemin?" San growled, not pulling back, his nose brushing hers.
"Just letting you know, we're ready to record your warm up, whenever you are," Jaemin replied, his tone casual, oblivious to the tension.
San's jaw clenched. "Come on! He interrupts me from kissing you to tell me that fucking shit." He stepped back, sulking like a kid who was denied their favorite toy, his broad shoulders slumping.
Amber laughed softly, her hand sliding up his back, feeling the flex of muscles under his sharp black suit. She pressed closer, her voice a whisper against his ear. "How about this: after you do your warm ups and record me a great-ass song, I’ll let you touch my pussy."
San's eyes darkened, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he quirked that sexy eyebrow lift he did when he was rock hard and plotting.
"Fuck, you're playing dirty, princess, but I like it." he muttered, yet he was already moving, slipping on his headphones and stepping up to the mic. "Alright, Jaemin, let’s get this damn song recorded as soon as fucking possible."
Amber chuckled as she slipped out of the booth, her skin buzzing. San's eagerness was obvious—he wanted that pussy bad, he was basically going pussy crazy, and she was more than ready to deliver, when he earned it. She settled onto the edge of the console, watching him through the glass, his voice pouring out raw and intense, the lyrics hitting harder now that she knew the promise behind them.
Jaemin shot her a sideways glance after hearing San's impeccable vocals during his warm up, each note sounding better then the last, his fingers dancing over sliders and knobs like a pianist mid-composition. "Damn, he's fired up today. Whatever you said in there Amber, it worked." Jaemin said, his tone was light and teasing, which brought a smile to Amber's face as it highlighted the significant impact she had on San, grounding her just as much as she grounded him.
Amber's attention was captivated by San. His mere presence had a profound impact on her—she noticed his broad shoulders accentuating his sharp black suit and the expressive way his hands moved as he sang into the microphone.
However looking at his tailored black suit reminded Amber of her own matching dress, which seemed to fit a bit snugly and felt as though it was working against her. Pregnancy had turned every sensation up to eleven; her breasts ached with a insistent throb for his touch, full and sensitive, and her core pulsed with that leftover heat from earlier teasing. She shifted her weight, trying to ignore the way her thighs rubbed together, slick with anticipation.
"Alright, great warm up San, are you ready to record the pre-chorus for 'In Your Fantasy'?" Jaemin asked, fiddling with the sliders on the console. "Wanna practice it a few times, or dive right in?" Jaemin asked. "Dive right in. You know how I do, Jaemin—stop playing, bruh," San replied, his laugh rumbling through the speakers, deep and infectious. "Yeah, right, San. I can see you’re just trying to impress your girlfriend over here," Jaemin teased, nodding toward Amber with a smirk.
"Damn right I am," San shot back, casting a wink at Amber through the booth window. It sent a giggle bubbling up from her chest, light and breathless, as heat flooded her cheeks. "Okay, San, pre-chorus for 'In Your Fantasy' in three… two… one." Jaemin flipped the switch, the music kicking in with a sultry beat, and he tweaked the knobs just as San leaned into the mic. "Read between the lines, look here, Lucifer. Devil in disguise, we know how this works." San's voice dropped low, a seductive timbre that wrapped around Amber like smoke. But the second he started singing that line, his eyes flicked to her—dark, alluring, promising all kinds of sin as if he was Lucifer himself. It was like he'd sung straight into her soul.
"Oh my fucking god," Amber murmured to herself, her jaw dropping without her realizing it. She snapped it shut, but not before San caught the look. Bingo, he thought, flashing her a smug smirk through the glass. He knew exactly what he was doing to her, that cocky bastard, and it only made her squirm more. "How was that take, Jaemin?" San called through the mic, his voice muffled but warm. Jaemin leaned into his mic as he spoke. "Solid take man. A little edge on that 'Lucifer'-I want to punch it up a bit?"
Jaemin requested San to repeat the take, this time with an increased emphasis on the word "Lucifer," which prompted Jaemin to give San a thumbs-up afterwards, letting San know that he got it that time. "Now that's what I call a solid take man. It's sounds killer. Hey, while we're at it, let's test a line from that new song of yours. Just to see how it vibes with the music." Jaemin suggested. San's eyes lit up, a mischievous glint in them as he nodded. He was more than willing to test it out since that track was all about him and Amber, raw and unfiltered, the kind of lyrics that would drive her absolutely insane hearing him belt them live. He stepped up again, the beat shifting to something slower, more intimate.
As San poured his voice into the new lines—words about stolen touches and midnight confessions—Amber felt her pulse hammer between her legs. The seductive way he looked at her as he lingered on phrase "Tangled in the sheets, your body's my vice, pulling me under, no sacrifice." had her biting her lip, thighs pressing together harder.
Jaemin glanced over at Amber, smirking. "You good over there? Looking a little flushed." Amber shot him a playful glare. "Yeah, just appreciating the talent." But inside, Amber's body was screaming for San. Amber shifted against the panel, her thighs quivering a bit as heat pooled low in her belly. She hadn't told San yet about the pregnancy-hell, she could barely wrap her head around it herself -but every lyric hit like a promise, stirring memories of his dominant side pinning her down, making her feel alive in ways that left her breathless.
Jaemin glanced up from the console, his fingers hovering over the sliders, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. He didn't say a word about the obvious tension radiating from her, but the way his eyes flicked to her flushed cheeks told her he wasn't blind to it. Amber settled on the console, crossing her legs to quell the growing ache between her thighs. San's song had stirred something in her, those lyrics wrapping around memories of his cock buried deep inside her, his breath hot against her neck as he growled promises of more.
A few hours later San managed to nailed the last line of his song in one take, his voice roughening on the edges, then he ad-libbed a low hum that sent shivers racing down her spine. Jaemin nodded approvingly as the bassline vibrated through the floor.
"Alright, That's a wrap on the vocals for tonight San or do you wanna tweak it?" San pulled off his headphones, shaking his head, his dark jet black hair falling into his eyes. "Nah, it's gold. Lock it in." Jaemin nodded, saving the track to his laptop and began packing up his gear for the night.
San pushed open the booth door, striding out with that confident swagger that always made Amber's stomach flip. "Great work today, San. Lock up when you're done." Jaemin said, shooting both Amber and San a knowing grin before heading out, the door clicking shut behind him.
Before San even had time to turn around, Amber was already on him. She closed the distance in two strides, her hands fisting into his sharp black suit as she crashed her lips against his. It was desperate, hungry, like she'd been holding back a storm and he was her only outlet. San's surprise melted into matching fire; he spun her around, away from the door to shield them from any prying eyes in the hallway. His mouth claimed hers with equal ferocity, tongues sliding in a messy tangle that left them both breathless.
Amber pulled away first, her chest heaving, eyes dark and accusing. "How dare you make a face like that at me through the glass."
San blinked, caught off guard for a split second before the pieces clicked. That look. The one he'd thrown her way, all heat and intent after he sung the sexy ass line for In Your Fantasy. A grin tugged at his lips. "Oh, that look? What, was it too much for my princess to handle?"
She swatted his chest lightly, but there was no real heat in it. "That look almost killed me out here. Even Jaemin noticed it—he kept asking if I was okay."
San laughed, low and unapologetic, pulling her closer by the hips. "Hey, in my defense, I was just trying to warm up that pretty little pussy of yours." He said it straight, no filter, watching her gasp in mock outrage. But fuck, the way her cheeks flushed and her lips parted made it all worth it. Adorable. Irresistible. He dove back in, kissing her hot and deep, letting his hands roam up her sides to emphasize just how badly he wanted to touch her pussy right now. The kiss was all tongue and teeth, a promise of what was coming, and Amber melted into it before yanking back again.
Her eyes sparkled with challenge as she took a few teasing steps backward, toward the studio. She beckoned him with a crook of her finger, her hips swaying just enough to make his dick twitch in his pants.
San's response was a wicked smirk, the kind that said he wasn't playing games anymore. He closed the gap in three long strides, his hand finding her waist, thumb brushing the curve of her hip through the thin fabric of her black dress. "Remember what you promise me, it's time to pay up princess. San murmured, voice husky from singing, and tipped her chin up so she was looking him straight in the eye. Damn those seductive eyes of his were enough to make her cave any day.
"Alright, I know San, you earned it," Amber said with a teasing eye roll. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the faint scent of his cologne mixing with the studio's metallic tang.
San's lips curved into another wicked smirk as he backed her against the control panel, careful not to knock any of the switches. "Tell me, Princess, how wet are you right now? Been thinking about my dick stretching that tight little pussy of yours while I was in there singing about us?" Her breath hitched, the directness hitting her like a spark. She hadn't planned on keeping the pregnancy secret this long, but the words stuck in her throat—tonight was about them, raw and unfiltered. "Drenched," she admitted, already sliding off her panties for him and hiking up her dress.
She knew the drill, and in no time San grasped her by the waist with his strong hands, lifting her up, and setting her down on the console. "Spread your legs," San said, his voice dark and alluring. Amber didn't hesitate; she spread her legs wide for him, revealing her glistening folds to his lustful eyes. With his thumbs, San spread her pussy lips open, causing her arousal to drip out from her core, making San hiss at the sight. "God, you're so beautiful, Princess," San whispered before running his fingers through her soaked folds making her gasp sharply.
Amber's thighs trembled as San's fingers glided over her slick folds, tracing the edges of her entrance without dipping in. He watched her face, that smirk deepening when she bit her lip. "Fuck, look at you leaking all over the console. You been fantasizing about me in that pretty little head of yours this whole session?" He pressed a finger against her clit, circling it slowly, just enough pressure to make her hips buck. Amber nodded, her hands gripping the edge of the panel for balance. "Yes, Sannie, every time I heard your powerful singing voice, I envisioned it was you growling my name while you fucked me senseless." San chuckled, low and rough, leaning in to capture her mouth in a kiss that started teasing but turned hungry fast. His tongue pushed past her lips, tasting the mint from her gum earlier, while his free hand slid up her thigh, squeezing the soft flesh. Amber moaned into his mouth, her body arching toward him. She broke the kiss first, whispering against his lips, "oh God, touch me more there, Please." He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, his finger now sliding inside her, curling against that spot that made her gasp. "That's it, atta girl keep making those pretty gasps for me." San said adding a second finger, pumping them in and out with deliberate slowness, his thumb flicking her clit in rhythm.
Amber's gasped again followed by a blissful moan as she let her head fell back, her breaths coming in short pants as the pressure built. The studio's hum of cooling fans mixed with the wet sounds of his fingers working her pussy, she couldn't help but grind against his hand. "San, fuck, right there—don't stop." He growled, nipping at her neck. "Not stopping till you come all over my fingers, Princess. Show me how much you love my fingers inside you."
Amber's hand slipped between them, finding the large bulge in his pants. She palmed him through the fabric, feeling how hard he was, the thick length straining against his zipper. San groaned, thrusting into her touch. "Yes baby, stroke it like that, good girl. You know what it does to me when you tease me there." She unzipped him, freeing his cock—big, veined, the head already slick with pre-cum. Her fingers wrapped around it, pumping slowly, matching the pace of his fingers inside her. They masturbated each other like that, breaths mingling, bodies pressed close in the confined space of the control room.
"Fuck, your hand feels so good," San muttered, his hips jerking. But he didn't let her take control for long. He pulled his fingers out, bringing them to her lips. "Taste yourself, babygirl." Amber sucked them clean, her tongue swirling around his digits, eyes locked on his. The sight made him swear under his breath. "On your knees princess. I want that heavenly mouth of yours on my dick."
She slid off the console, knees hitting the worn carpet, and took him in her delicate hand again. San's cock throbbed as she licked from base to tip, swirling her tongue around the head before taking him deep. He tangled his fingers in her blonde hair, guiding her without forcing, groaning as her lips stretched around his girth. "Shit, Princess, just like that. Suck it harder—yeah, fuck." Amber hollowed her cheeks, bobbing her head, one hand stroking what she couldn't fit. Saliva dripped down his shaft, making everything messy and hot. She reached between her own legs, fingers circling her clit as she blew him, the dual sensations pushing her close to the edge again.
San watched her touch herself, his grip tightening. "Look at you fingering that pretty pussy while you choke on my cock. Such a dirty girl." He thrust shallowly into her mouth, careful not to overwhelm her, but the dominance in his voice had her whimpering around him. She came first, her body shaking as waves of pleasure hit, muffled moans vibrating against his dick. San pulled out just in time, stroking himself as she rode out her orgasm on the floor, her fingers soaked.
"Up babygirl," he commanded, hauling her to her feet and bending her over the console. Amber braced her hands on the buttons, her dress bunched around her waist, ass presented to him. San slapped her cheek lightly, the sting making her yelp in surprise—and arousal. "Spread wider for me, babygirl." She did, toes curling as he rubbed the head of his cock against her clit and down her entrance, teasing her folds. "Please, Sannie, fuck me. I need you so bad."
He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, stretching her tight pussy around his thickness. Amber cried out, the fullness overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and that sharp edge that made tears prick her eyes. "Oh god, you're so big—fuck, it hurts so good." San groaned, bottoming out, his hands firmly gripping her hips. "That's it, Take it all, princess. That's my good girl...fuck...your pussy's squeezing me so good right now." San groaned as he started thrusting, deep and steady, the console creaking under them. Every slap of skin echoed in the room, mixed with her whimpers and his growls.
Amber reached back, spreading herself even more for him, urging him deeper. "Harder, San—make me fucking cum-yes." He obliged, pounding into her, one hand snaking around to rub her clit. She came again quickly, walls clenching around him, tears streaming down her face from the intensity. "Fuck, yes Princess—let me hear those sweet cries." He didn't stop, chasing his own release, however he wanted to hear more of those sweet cries she made whenever he fucked her good and pulled out suddenly, spinning her around.
"On your back babygirl. I want to see your face and hear your cries when I eat you out." Amber hopped up, legs dangling over the edge as he dropped to his knees. San dove in, tongue lapping at her pussy like he was starved, sucking her clit between his lips. She threaded her fingers through his jet black hair, pulling him closer, her sweet cries were becoming loud enough that she worried the soundproofing might fail. "Sannie, your tongue—shit, I'm gonna come again." He hummed against her, the vibration sending her over, her thighs clamping around his head as she squirted a little, soaking his chin.
San stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark with lust as he lifted her legs over his shoulders, the new angle letting him slide back in with one deep thrust. It hit deeper, brushing all the right spots that made her vision blur. Her nails raked his muscular arms, leaving red trails, making San hiss however he like the pain mixed with the pleasure. As the pace built again, San's free hand roamed, pinching her nipples, then sliding down to where they joined, feeling himself move in and out of her.
San kissed her deeply, swallowing her whimpers and moans. The vibration of her sounds against his lips pushed him closer. "So fucking tight for me baby." he muttered against her lips, and Amber laughed breathlessly, clenching around his dick on purpose to make him swear in Korean with a guttural groan.
San could feel Amber teetering on the edge—and himself right there with her. "Beg for my cum, Princess. Tell me you want me to fill your pussy up." Amber was a wreck, tears drying on her cheeks from the intensity, body slick with sweat. "Please, San, come inside, make it drip out." The words tumbled out, filthy and raw, and she bit her tongue to keep the secret that she was keeping from him locked away however the confession burned in her chest.
San's thrusts grew erratic, hips snapping as he chased release, hitting her G-spot every single time at a relentless pace. Amber's hands clutched his back, urging him on, her own climax building to its highest peak. When it hit, she shattered, pussy pulsing around him, milking every inch. That was it—San buried himself deep, groaning her name as he came, hot spurts filling her, spilling out around his cock as he kept pumping through it. They rode the waves together, breaths mingling, until he collapsed over her, both panting.
After catching their breath, San pulled out slowly, watching his cum leak from her onto the console, a satisfied smirk on his face. Amber sat up, legs shaky, and pulled him into another kiss—this one slower, seductive, tongues dancing lazily.
"Korean word of the day Princess, Saranghae. Means "I love you." San said sweetly bringing a smile to Amber's face as she whispers "Saranghae" back to him feeling his body shudder in her arms after she said it.
"Fuck that sounds so hot when it's spoken by you princess." San said and kissed her softly on the temple, a contrast to the roughness, taking her by the waist and helping her down from the console. "That was... fuck, Amber, you're still so incredible." San said with a breathy laugh of satisfaction. She smiled, straightening her dress, the warmth in her belly a secret thrill amid the afterglow. As they cleaned up, laughing about the mess they'd made—Jaemin would kill them if he saw the console—Amber felt a spark of mischief. "Next session, we do this in the recording booth. Your voice sounds much better in there when you're groaning my name."
San grinned, pulling her close. "Deal, but only if you promise to keep begging like that."
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
With his key, San locked up the studio and made his way to the elevator with Amber. The faint hum of the machinery enveloped them as the doors slid shut, sealing them in a momentary cocoon of quiet. Amber leaned against the cool metal wall, her shoulder brushing San's arm in that effortless way that always sent a subtle spark through her. He glanced at her, his dark eyes catching the soft glow of the overhead light, and offered a small smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. She returned it, but her mind was a whirlwind, secrets pressing against her chest like an uninvited guest. Once the elevator descended to the ground floor, the doors slid open and revealed the quiet lobby before them. They stepped out, San's hand guiding her at the small of her back, as they walked past the receptionist who offered them a cheerful "Goodbye" before they pushed through the glass doors into the crisp night air. The city hummed faintly in the distance, but here on the edge of the studio district, it felt like their own private world—streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement, the occasional rustle of leaves from a nearby overgrowth of urban vines that had claimed the cracked edges of the sidewalk.
As they walked side by side down the concrete path leading to where San's car was parked, Amber glanced over at him. His profile was illuminated by the glow of a flickering neon sign from a distant warehouse, highlighting the easy smile on his face.
He looked utterly content, like he was the luckiest man alive to be strolling beside the woman he cherished most. The sight twisted something deep inside her, causing her guilt to resurface like a tide she couldn't hold back. She paused mid-step, her body freezing as if rooted to the spot.
San, a few paces ahead, noticed the absence of her at his side and stopped, turning back with a furrowed brow. He saw her there, standing completely still, her expression distant and troubled. Letting out a soft sigh, he retraced his steps until he was right in front of her. "Is everything alright, princess?" he asked, his voice gentle as he reached for her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers in a warm, reassuring grip that pulled her from the whirlwind of her thoughts.
"Huh?" Amber replied, blinking as if emerging from a dream.
"I asked you if everything's alright," San repeated, his Korean features etched with quiet concern. He gave her hand a light, comforting squeeze, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a way that sent a subtle warmth up her arm.
"Yeah, never better," she answered, her voice laced with nervousness. *Liar!* her internal thoughts screamed at her, a sharp pang echoing in her chest.
"Okay? Come princess, Let's head home," San said, his tone still carrying a lilt of confusion. He didn't want to make her self conscious by pressing too hard, not here under the open sky where the night's chill might make her withdraw further. Instead, he let the moment pass, guiding her forward with that same steady hold.
Amber allowed San to lead her to the car, but an unbidden tear traced a solitary path down her cheek. She felt horrible for lying to the man who had given her everything—his unwavering love, his quiet support throughout her interview, easing her fears and doubts about it. *Oh, San, why must you treat me so nice and look at me like that? You're killing me here and breaking my heart with such overwhelming guilt right now,* she pondered silently, watching the genuine happiness light his handsome eyes. She yearned with all her heart to tell him about the pregnancy, to share the secret that had been blooming inside her for weeks. But the fear of it all—jeopardizing his reputation, upending his career in the high-stakes world of the K-pop industry, held her back like invisible chains. She cared too deeply for San to drag him into that storm. *I'm sorry, San, but I can't possibly tell you,* she thought, swiftly wiping away the tear with her free hand as they reached his midnight blue mustang.
Ever the gentleman, he opened the passenger door for her, his hand lingering at her elbow as he helped her inside. The touch was brief, but it lingered in her mind, a reminder of his tenderness. All Amber desired in that moment was to get home, to curl up in the familiarity of their shared space and hope that by then, she'd find a way to untangle the knot in her heart.
The drive back was quiet, Seoul's tall soaring building and streetlights glittering pass like fireflies on a warm summer's night—a ramen shop with glowing dragon lanterns, and a record store spilling faint K-pop music into the night. San's mustang, the one he had bought after signing with KQ Entertainment and getting his first big studio deal with Ateez, hummed smoothly along with just a few subtle jolts from San shifting gears like he was in Tokyo drift or something. He occasionally glanced at Amber, his fingers gently tapping on the steering wheel to an imaginary rhythm. He respected her silence, sensing a shift in her demeanor and understanding that she needed some space. San knew Amber well enough by now to recognize when she required solitude, which he readily provided in that moment. Amber stared out the window, her hand resting on her abdomen almost unconsciously, the weight of her secret pressing heavier with each passing block.
By the time they pulled into the underground garage of San's penthouse, the tension in her chest had eased just a fraction. San killed the engine and turned to her, his dark eyes searching her face in the dim glow of the dashboard lights. "You sure you're okay, princess, you seem sad as if something's troubling you?" he asked softly, reaching across the console to tuck a stray strand of her soft blonde hair behind her ear. His fingers grazed her cheek, the contact electric in its gentleness, sending a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the cool air.
Amber nodded, forcing a small smile. "Just tired from the session. That track you laid down today... it's going to be huge." It was true; his hard work in the studio had been magical, hours of him blending into a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing. But even that joy was overshadowed now.
San's smile returned, warm and boyish. "Yeah, it is, however, you were incredible today too, and I'm not just talking about the amazing Sex we had today princess." He said with a slight satisfied chuckle leaning in slightly, his proximity closing the space between them, the faint scent of his cologne that always drove Amber crazy filled the air. For a moment, their eyes locked, and Amber felt the pull, that magnetic draw that had sparked between them when he first caught sight of her in the audience during the concert in Berlin. His hand hovered near hers on the seat, not quite touching, but close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his skin.
She swallowed, her heart racing. "So are you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The guilt twisted again, but so did the longing—to bridge the gap, to let him in. But not yet. Not like this. She immediately broke eye contact with San and got out of the car leaving him to wonder what the hell was going on with her, yet San still wanted to respect her space, if she didn't want to talk about it right now, San knew her well enough to know that she would eventually confined in him later, that's how much trust and faith San had in her, basically, San couldn't help but notice how well Amber had him wrapped around her finger and he couldn't help but smile at the thought of that before grabbing his phone from the cup holder and getting out of the car to join her.
San walked up beside Amber taking her hand in his with a soft smile on his face simply just enjoying the warmth of her hand intertwined with his, his touch was protective, steadying, and it made her pulse quicken, as he walked her over to the elevator and stepped inside pressing the button for his penthouse. Amber was still silent, lost in her guilty thoughts, as the metal doors slid shut and the elevator began it's assent. Maybe later tonight she'd find the courage to tell him but for now, the connection between them, that been building tension like a song on the verge of its chorus, she prayed would be enough to carry her through until then.
