#sunoo reader

the atmosphere at dead circuit was a symphony of auditory chaos. the sound of drumsticks being tested against the drumheads echoed like gunshots, the feedback from guitar amplifiers sliced through the air with a sharp, irritating hiss, and the murmur of the crowd outside - a sea of anxious young people, some completely high or drunk - leaked through the wooden walls like an animalistic roar.

but kim sunoo heard none of it.

leaning back against one of the worn black speakers, he was immersed in his own bubble of selective silence. it was a survival skill he had practiced since he was 13, when his parents’ bitter arguments during the divorce became the playlist of his adolescence. if he didn’t want to hear it, the world simply went mute.

his slender, pale fingers plucked at the bass strings with a melancholic slowness, pulling out the notes of 505 by arctic monkeys. sunoo didn’t like punk rock that much. he found the genre’s aggression too loud most of the time, too heavy, too obvious. he preferred melodies that floated, that had space to breathe, to discern what was worth it. but he was there, earning his five hundred bucks a night, because jay, heeseung, and the drummer had convinced him years ago with promises of creative freedom and zero stress.

liars. he knew they were, but he went along with it anyway.

jay and the drummer were a walking war zone, like two primed grenades about to explode together. heeseung was a predator of other people’s hearts with no intention of commitment. sunghoon, the sound technician, was the most handsome and most boring guy he had ever met. and then there was you.

the only piece that wasn’t dirty or explosive. you were his center of gravity. that day, years ago, when you were introduced as the manager, sunoo felt like the air in the stuffy garage had finally become breathable; not even the growing mold behind one of the freezers mattered anymore. there was only one problem.

a problem that, right now, was making his super ability to ignore noise fail miserably.

he stopped plucking the strings, the tips of his fingers lightly touching the neck of the instrument to adjust it against his torso. there, in a dark corner behind the heavy stage curtains, where dust danced under the light of a single purple spotlight, he saw you.

you held your phone against your ear so tightly your knuckles were white. your eyes, always so focused and attentive to every detail of the band, were now clouded, filled with water you refused to let fall. he wished it weren’t like this, but he had seen you cry so many times… “i already told you, i don’t want to see you anymore, why is that so hard?” your voice came out in a strained breath, choked, heavy with an exhaustion he felt in his own chest.

sunoo knew the script by heart. he had watched you go through every one of those assholes. the one who asked you for money to fix his car - and took his ex on a trip -, the one who slapped you in front of the whole band and, because you begged, didn’t turn into an urban legend in their hands, the one with no character who dated at least three girls at once, and the current one. the jealous one. the one who made you feel guilty for giving him a ride or staying late at band rehearsals. the one who tried to prune the only thing you loved - this chaotic, real job - to turn you into a shadow under his control.

it’s ridiculous, the boy thought as he watched your tense silhouette, how you take care of four grown, problematic men with one hand behind your back, but fall apart over a man who isn’t worth the sole of your shoe.

you never did anything for yourself. you always gave in. and seeing you there, curled into the dimness while being whipped by words through a screen, made his blood boil.

he stood up from the speaker. the bass, covered in stickers and collages, bumped lightly against his leg, the metallic sound of the chains on his pants clinking with the quick movement. he wasn’t going to interrupt the call - he wasn’t that kind of guy - but he stepped close enough for his presence to be noticed, watching the situation up close.

sunoo was pissed. not at you, but at the way you let the world steal the shine from your eyes. what he really wanted was to take the phone from your hand and crush it under his heavy boot, but instead, he just stood there, black leather wristbands tight around his wrists, waiting for the moment you would finally hang up so he could, once again, try to convince you that you deserved far more than scraps of attention and empty threats.

“i can’t keep this going, i’m sorry… i- have to go” you stated, your voice coming out shaky and rushed, unsure if it matched what your heart wanted.

as soon as you pulled the device away from your ear, a final “you bitch, if you-” slipped through the speaker, an aggressive sound stain that was abruptly silenced when you pressed the red button on the screen. the silence that followed wasn’t peaceful, but heavy.

when you turned, you startled slightly, your tense body bumping into the heavy curtain as you saw sunoo standing there, like a silent sentinel watching you. you swallowed hard, feeling the knot in your throat, and forced an awkward smile as you quickly wiped your eyes with the backs of your hands, trying to dry the tears that insisted on falling.

“hey…” you sniffled, trying to regain your manager composure, offering a small smile.

“i thought you had blocked his number” sunoo said soberly.

he didn’t need to show his anger toward you, didn’t need to gesture sharply; he was different from everything you knew. he rarely got angry, and never took it out on you, but there was a coldness in his voice that cut deeper than any shout.

“he called me from another number” you lied, your voice still a little shaky.

sunoo pressed his lips together, the metal beads of his snake bites glinting under the dim light. he pretended to buy the lie, raising one eyebrow and nodding slowly, but his eyes - a hazel tone so intense and focused it made you feel immersed - said he knew exactly that you still left the door slightly open for your own tormentor.

“you don’t have to stay on the line until the end… you don’t have to listen to the things he says to you” he continued, his voice softening a little, but still carrying a restrained urgency.

you sighed and took a step toward him, offering that condescending smile the boy hated so much. it was your “you’re cute, but you don’t understand how things work” smile. to him, it felt like you were placing him back on the souvenir shelf, labeling him as the boy from the band, too young to know anything beyond his bass and ripped jeans.

you reached out and touched his dark strands. the gesture was instinctive, feeling the texture of the gel that made some tips more spiked, contrasting with the softness of the rest of his hair. “it suits you…” you commented, trying to change the subject, your eyes scanning his look. “even if those wristbands are a bit much…”

sunoo lowered his gaze to his own wrists, the black leather and spikes seeming heavy under your gentle touch. “i’ll take them off mid-show, they get in the way when i play” he replied simply, his voice almost a whisper.

“i know…”

and with those two words, you got away. once again, you skirted the edge of the abyss. you used your bright eyes and your sweet voice that acted like a sedative on his instincts. you passed by him, the soft scent of your shampoo leaving a trail that contrasted with the moldy smell of the place, and he let out a quiet laugh, a bitter sound that died in his chest as he watched you walk away to organize the chaos you preferred to face: the band’s.

he remained still, lost in the realization that you cared about every technical detail, but didn’t care to save yourself.

reality only hit again when heeseung showed up, tapping his shoulder with a heavy palm.

“five minutes” the vocalist announced, his voice vibrating with pre-show adrenaline. “i’m going to call the lovebirds in the dressing room. and you’re coming with me, i’m not dealing with any unwanted scenes alone” heeseung practically dragged him, making him roll his eyes.

***

sunoo bit down on one of the piercing balls at the corner of his lip and adjusted the bass strap on his neck in a shared nervousness before stepping on stage; his fingers opened and closed, clenching into fists, and he laughed when the drummer nudged his shoulder lightly before the curtains opened. whenever they were about to perform, they looked like the same four high school teenagers about to compete in their first talent show; it was bizarre, because what they did up there was definitely not appropriate for fifteen-year-old boys.

the led lights cut through the darkness, turning the thick oxygen into geometric, disoriented beams that lashed over the crowd and the instruments. jay’s first chord wasn’t just a note: it was a wail, a low, long, distorted sound that seemed to vibrate straight through the old wooden floor beneath their feet. the smoke from the machines rose slowly, wrapping around the boys’ legs and making the scene look like a mirage, something ethereal and disturbed, the kind you have in a bad trip.

there was that second of absolute silence. the four exchanged quick glances, one last silent check-in. heeseung stepped forward - his loose tank top already slipping dangerously off one shoulder, exposing a sweaty clavicle before the effort even began - he smiled. “we are the tamed-dashed…” his voice started contained, a secret shared through the mic, only to explode into a roar that made the walls shake:

“AND WE ARE HERE TO BURN THIS PLACE DOWN!!!”

the chaos was instant. the tap-tap of the drumsticks gave the signal and, on the fourth count, they dove into smells like teen spirit.

sunoo felt the impact in his chest. for him, that was the only moment when noise didn’t truly bother him. on stage, being loud was a virtue; screaming was a right. completely different from his calm, almost untouchable demeanor. his fingers chased each note with surgical precision, the tuned bass vibrating against his pelvis like a pulsing open artery.

he always went numb. feeling, up there, became just another vital function, like his heavy breathing and the pounding of his racing heart. he closed his eyes, bringing his full lips close to the microphone for backing vocals - a rough caress exchanged between his skin and the fibrous surface - harmonizing with the main voice in tones that sent shivers down your spine all the way from the sound booth.

far from sounding impartial, but it was incredible how he transformed. the mannerisms, the parted lips, the fingers sliding along the neck of the instrument as if they could carve through any path they touched, pressing the strings with perfect pressure, the ridiculously long lashes that stood out when he closed his eyes to sing a more melodramatic part… your cheeks burned and you were grateful no one else noticed in the poor lighting.

that song was cruel, it meant a lot to sunoo, who somehow had never hidden from anyone, yet was still rarely truly seen. like a sea that holds so much and can be calm at the shore, but turbulent the deeper you allow yourself to sail. sunoo slowly turned his feet, facing the back of the stage, toward you.

and he knew hundreds of eyes were devouring him, but he was only searching for one pair.

he locked onto you there in the half-light, your hair tied in a messy bun exposing your nape to the suffocating heat, holding a clipboard against your chest as if it could give you any extra stability, or maybe you just wanted to protect yourself, which was just another illusion your brain crafted for you. you bit your lower lip hard, a habit that betrayed that beneath the proper manager facade, your heart beat to the dirty rhythm of his bass; you just didn’t know it yet.

“a denial, a denial…” he hissed, eyes locked with your figure. those honey-colored orbs dancing over your expression to the point it made you swallow hard. you were in denial.

he wanted to provoke you. he wanted you to see there was nothing he couldn’t be, regardless of the age difference or your mistaken beliefs about him. sunoo was dying to have you.

when the band transitioned into dirty diana, heeseung approached him from behind - loose hips, eyes carrying a mischievous expression that said only one thing - his quick, sly hands sliding over sunoo’s torn shirt. the girls in the front row went into a frenzy, screaming and shoving each other to get closer to the stage.

the two smiled in complicity; sunoo tilted his head back, resting it on his friend’s shoulder, a crooked smile playing on his reddened lips as the other slipped his hand under the fabric, lifting the tank top and exposing the kim’s slim abdomen to the hysterical crowd. the boy mimicked a hoarse, dragged-out moan that barely made it through the mic, but it was enough for your fingers to tighten against the clipboard and your stomach to twist. you shouldn’t feel like that about the youngest in the band, not when you were nearing your late twenties and he was just starting; in fact, you never dated younger dudes. sunoo wanted to say you were missing out on some fun.

“i’ll be your night lovin’ thing, the freak you can taunt…” they sang together, faces dangerously close. heeseung left a quick peck on his cheek before they pulled apart laughing, as if nothing had happened.

sunoo looked at you through the smoke and flashing lights once again in a silent challenge, a deliberate promise. he was turned on by the music, by the attention, but mostly by the way you couldn’t look away, even when your body tensed; why did you lie to yourself so much? he didn’t want to hear about stupid guys calling you at night anymore, didn’t want to see you showing up to rehearsals with marks on your arms and wrists saying you burned yourself on some damn kettle. sunoo desperately wanted to fill the space you tried to patch with those sorry excuses for men and show you what it meant to be a real one.

he was so desperate that he would probably confess right there in the damn show if his bandmates didn’t have other plans for the night. after two songs without stopping, they were electric, adrenaline making up for the lack of air in their lungs and the burning stage lights. heeseung played around with the crowd for a bit, something about the purple-haired girl with gothic makeup meeting him after the show - and her friends if they wanted too - while the others drank water and recovered.

the vocalist let out a few melismas repeating the last verse of the previous song and sunoo briefly joined in, earning a glance from him at the front. slender fingers hovered over the neck of the bass before he gently pulled the melody, pushing the invitation into the air for the next song: no feelings.

an a low and clean, vibrating through the amplifier. the note repeated as he steadied his hand. fingers slid along the length, finding the next note: g, strong and dirty. no rush, feeling each sound wave individually passing through his flesh.

his skilled hand stroked the bass up to the fifth fret, letting a d ring out continuously. the notes seemed to shift the frequency between them. the brunette watched jongseong unbutton his shirt one button at a time, loosening the tie hanging from his neck even more, stomping his foot and joining the sound that was soon invaded by the bratty noise of his guitar.

the drummer got the message and came in right after, making one of the cymbals ring out. not a normal ring, but an aggressive one that could only mean she was furious. just like sunoo had said before… two sticks of dynamite about to explode.

and sunoo repeated with more intent, more hunger: a, g, d, a. and within seconds the intensity burst through the bar and the song began.

that had been their first song, one that for many years had made sense to sunoo. he liked who he was. the roughness of the lyrics made them feel enraged, and the performance turned into a chaotic mess of bodies crashing in the mosh pit forming on the floor. on stage, one trying to outshine the other without abandoning what was written. the boy laughed when he saw jay kneeling near the edge of the stage and bit his lower lip watching girls scratch at his now bare chest - and apparently one even slipped her number into his jeans -, rolling his eyes when heeseung paused the lyrics just to let out an “oh shit” at the sight, “we’re about to get fucking wiiild”.

and they did. near the end of the song, the drummer abandoned her post and climbed onto the stool, drawing everyone’s attention as she pulled off her shirt, left only in a lace bra.

sunoo stared at you from there, seeing your parted lips, the look of someone who loved control about to lose it completely. he felt a shiver run down his spine, increasing the intensity with which he struck the strings.

last song. jongseong was furious. with a scratch running from his chest down toward his pelvis and a pink paper sticking out of his pants, he had no right to complain - ah, sunoo believed in equal rights - but the park was even more pissed because now the vocalist was acting like a dog in heat while singing suck my kiss, staring at the fiery drummer.

you whispered something to sunghoon, who only nodded, doubtful he had actually heard. as the song reached its end, the inevitable began to take shape. but it was worse.

the drummer fully abandoned the kit, tossing her sticks into the crowd before walking over to the vocalist and kissing him. a hungry kiss that meant many things, and not necessarily that they liked each other.

holy shit.

jay was about to tear heeseung apart. on the last chord, everything snapped. the park pulled the guitar off his body and threw it to the ground carelessly, stepping toward the taller one and grabbing him by the collar - making the girl nearby stumble back - like two fighting dogs. and sunoo clicked his tongue, carefully removing his bass, slipping the strap over his head and resting it against a speaker before moving toward them, shoving his arm between the two. “you guys really”

the argument was heated. not that it was anything new, since the guitarist had a reputation for yelling and fighting over anything, but no one was helping. “what are you? a fucking dog?!” jongseong growled through clenched teeth, gripping the dyed linen fabric so tightly his knuckles turned white. “since you can’t satisfy your fucking girlfriend” the other shot back with a mocking smile, grabbing his wrists to stop him from doing anything else. a general commotion broke out, from you stepping forward to thank the crowd for coming see the show to sunghoon pulling the curtains shut on his own. sunoo held heeseung by the shoulders and pulled him back while the sound tech wrapped his arms around the guitarist’s torso, separating them. “stop this stupidity for fuck’s sake!” sunoo muttered when the lee was about to throw in another provoking line.

***

when they finally managed to reach the hallway that led to the dressing rooms, literally crammed into the narrow passage, sunoo was still holding onto heeseung, positioning himself in front of him and trying to stop his bandmate from pointing or yelling back at the insults coming from the guitarist. behind him, sunghoon and the drummer blocked the way of a frowning jongseong, his neck flushed red with anger. “hee, fuck off. stop provoking, he’s already mad” the shorter one said, pushing heeseung forward so he’d keep walking.

“c’mon park! you called me a dog before but it’s YOU who can’t decide if you leave or bite the bone!” and just like that, with a detestable little laugh, the vocalist slipped out of sunoo’s grip and headed in the opposite direction of jay and the rest of the crew, weaving through a few staff members and disappearing in seconds, probably going after some skirt, since stirring up all that chaos clearly hadn’t been enough.

they walked into the dressing room with the guitarist, and the first thing to go flying was the red lamp near one of the mirrors, which he punched just as hard. both actions producing a sharp crash of shattering glass. sunghoon watched the situation with his arms crossed, trying to speak over jay’s shouting, while the drummer threw herself onto the small couch in the stuffy room like someone used to it - despite the annoyed look - and she was, in theory. everyone there had witnessed one of his outbursts at some point.

but it was when you rushed into the dressing room, clumsy and asking about the “boys” that sunoo acted. your first instinct was always to try and talk, of course, but jay didn’t work like that. sunoo grabbed your wrist, stopping you mid-step, catching the alarmed look on your face when you turned to him. “yeah, princess, you’re not doing this” he said simply, pulling you along and making you toss that useless clipboard onto the console by the door. “dude?” he heard sunghoon mutter in disbelief as they left the man alone with the chaos. “you can make it, big guy”

you pressed your lips together, glancing back as the sound of things breaking continued. you knew exactly who the band members were, but wasn’t it your responsibility to step in when they clashed? it wasn’t like your job was just booking shows and collecting payments. “wait, sunoo, i have to-”

“no, you don’t.”

“but-” and then sunoo stopped as you resisted his grip, only for your movements to slow as his honey-colored eyes weighed on your figure; your protests faded, your expression softening as your heart skipped a few beats.

sunoo’s hand slid from your wrist to your fingers, making you intertwine them with his as you followed him without question. you didn’t even know where he was taking you, but after about five minutes of walking, you ended up outside, in the parking lot behind the bar.

the cold air of the early morning contrasted with the warmth of your skin, which had just been trapped in a suffocating room dealing with the explosive anger of a 24yo. you bit your lower lip, feeling that your thin dress shirt wasn’t enough to stop the chill from raising goosebumps, or maybe it was the fact that even out there, the kim still hadn’t let go of your hand. you looked down at where he held your fingers so tightly, flushing at the thought, stumbling over your words when sunoo turned to you again.

“what were you thinking, trying to calm him down??” he asked, and you parted your lips slightly. “i just… didn’t want him to break more things or hurt someone - or himself” you answered quietly.

“you know he’s an adult, right? if he breaks something, he’ll use his own pay to fix it. if he has a problem, he’s the one who has to deal with it” the brunette said, watching you look away and rub the back of your neck with your free hand. always avoidant. sunoo studied you a bit longer before stepping closer, lifting your chin so you’d look at him. “i’m being dead serious right now. why is it so difficult? why are you always trying to handle things alone?” he asked, his plump lips slightly wet, catching the glow of the nearby streetlights.

you chose not to answer, just held his gaze for longer than it felt safe. you hated when you couldn’t read him, when you didn’t know what he was really thinking. it was easier with the others, who saw you more like an older sister or a babysitter. the muffled noise of shouting and the next band starting up drifted from inside, and you should’ve gone back to talk to the organizers about booking another date, but the boy in front of you showed no sign of letting you go anytime soon.

you walked toward the parked cars, where he finally let go, watching you sit on one of the low concrete dividers while he pulled out a pack and a lighter from his pocket. he lit it and took a deep drag, looking up as he slowly exhaled, watching the smoke dissolve into the air before turning to you and holding it out in offering. you accepted - even though it was just a leftover habit from your teenage years - brushing his fingers lightly as you took it. you sighed before bringing it to your lips and inhaling. sunoo watched, biting one of the balls of his lip piercing. “what?” you asked quietly.

“nothing… you look good like this…” he shrugged. your hair was crap, your blazer lost somewhere in the earlier chaos, the first two buttons of your shirt undone, the thin fabric revealing the black lace underneath. your eyeliner was smudged from sweat and time, and your lips were bare. “messy?” you laughed softly, taking another drag before handing it back. “real. human…” he shot back with a shrug, and silence settled between you.

it was awkward when he sounded like the most grounded one. it stirred something in your stomach you didn’t want to name.

sunoo took the cigarette but flicked it away, sending the butt flying until it hit the ground and died out, then walked over and sat beside you.

he crossed his arms, staring at the half-paved ground while you tried not to glance at him sideways. “i wanted to talk…” he started, his voice unsteady in a way that wasn’t like him, and you already knew what was coming. “sunoo… i don’t think we should…” you replied quickly, parting your lips as you prepared to stand, but he grabbed your arm again. this time almost pleading. “so that’s it? you’re just going to act like all of this is normal? the responsibilities you take on, the people you get involved with…” he spoke fast, trying to make you listen. and now it wasn’t about the band. and you knew he was right. deep down, it wasn’t that hard to understand but in practice…

“ah… that’s none of your business…” you said, placing your hand over his, still warm despite the cold outside.

“how can this not be?” sunoo narrowed his eyes, frowning as he held onto you.

“what do you know about relationships, sunoo?” you asked with a quiet laugh, a hint of disdain slipping through because for him it was always so easy: going out with boys and girls, no commitment, no attachment. but the words hit harder than you intended.

sunoo looked down, loosening his grip before letting go slowly. “wow… yeah… you might be right. i know nothing. i’m just young and bored and stupid” he said with sarcasm, making you sigh and close your eyes before turning to him, your calming nature not wanting to hurt him. “that’s not what i was sayi-”

he dragged his tongue along his cheek, ignoring your gaze now fixed on him.

“that’s all you’ve been saying since day one” he stood up, continuing, “that i’m too young, that i should enjoy myself while i can, go out, meet people…” he paced back and forth. “but i don’t want to. and when i do, when i sleep with someone, it’s to forget the one person i can’t have. the one person who despises me and makes me wait like fucking time isn’t finite while she gives herself to any bastard who shows up” his voice came out fast and rough, emotions weighing down every syllable as he confessed - not how he had planned - turning to face you, watching your confused expression.

“why can’t you see that? what do i have to do for you to notice me?” he stepped closer again, stopping right in front of you, looking down. “tell me, if i can’t stop loving you, what should i do?” because if you knew so much about feelings, you should have an answer.

and even if there was one - which there wasn’t - you knew he wouldn’t accept it. you looked at his face and reached out, hesitating halfway before touching his shirt and letting your hand slide down until you were playing with the accessories on his belt, looping one of the metal chains around your finger as you wet your lower lip.

it was killing him. your mixed signals, your half-signals, the ones that weren’t even there. even when it wasn’t your intention, everything you did had an almost intoxicating effect on him.

sunoo caught your hand around the chain, and as you lifted your face to look at him, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. they parted, and he slightly opened his mouth, his free hand sliding to your nape, ready to deepen it. the contact sent a shock down from your neck to the base of your spine, making your back arch.

“the hell are you doing?!”

you heard the voice nearby and pulled away abruptly. the boy turned and spotted the slightly hunched figure holding a beer bottle, leaning against a car for balance. your ex. he looked at you once more before fixing his gaze on the man slowly approaching.

and like an automatic response, there you went, stepping in front of him, wiping your mouth and crossing your arms. “what are you doing here?” you asked. the older man wore an open flannel shirt, badly done tattoos across his torso. “you didn’t block me on instagram…” he replied with a weak laugh. “just had to check where the show was, sweetheart” his words dragged out as he staggered. “we need to talk”

“i’m still working.” sunoo felt a vein pulse in his forehead, his fist clenching. of course… you’d give that guy a chance to talk once your shift ended, sure thing.

then the man stopped, a dark smile spreading across his face as he noticed sunoo behind you. “i see… working on what? fucking with teenagers now? i knew you were a slut but damn”. your body tensed so hard your jaw clenched, afraid he’d say something about sunoo that he didn’t deserve to hear.

sunoo watched, his blood slowly boiling. he didn’t even remember the idiot’s name, biting his lip hard enough to taste metal. you stood in front of him, protecting him from something he didn’t need protection from. it didn’t take long before the man stepped closer, raising his hand toward you. but the kim was faster, pulling you back and watching the other stumble, swiping at the air. “i think she made it clear, man. go home” sunoo said seriously. “fu-ckin’ bastard!… or what!? huh? what are you gonna do?!”

the bassist moved you behind him as your ex grabbed his shirt, yanking him - not strong enough to make him move at all, more leaning on him than anything - but unlike him, sunoo didn’t react, just stared with a neutral expression. “go home” he repeated quietly, lifting one eyebrow slightly as the disgusting smell of alcohol hit him.

stubborn, the man holding his collar shifted his gaze to you. “this your new boyfriend, yeah?! that’s why you were fucking leaving? stupid bitch! i should’ve known better!” and just as sunoo realized he was about to spit, his slender hand shot up, grabbing the man by the throat, making him choke and stumble back, coughing toward the ground. “you—gh… piece of shit—!”

and that was it. the moment your ex lunged at him, sunoo grabbed him and punched, hitting his jaw so hard (not intentionally, just pure luck) that he blacked out instantly. his heavy body, a bit bigger than sunoo’s, dropped completely limp to the ground; the nearly empty bottle slipped from his hand, cracking as the last drops spilled out.

it happened so fast that all you had time to do was widen your eyes, hear the dull thud, and pull a shocked expression.

you stepped closer, crouching down beside the man’s body. “fuck, you knocked him out” you said simply, checking his pulse.

he could’ve said it wasn’t intentional, but he didn’t give a single fuck about your ex or any other guy you had mentioned over the past year like a broken record. none of them were worth shit. and the bassist was fed up. when his eyes landed on you leaning over the idiot who had practically lunged to hit you, that was it. the very last straw.

sunoo grabbed you under the arm, pulling you up to your feet and dragging you away from there. you protested. he was doing it again. “sunoo, we can’t just leave him there” you tried to break free this time, more agitated than when he had pulled you out of the dressing room. “stop this”

“sunoo!” you shouted, and he tensed, cracking his neck before stopping and turning to you, bending down and throwing you over his shoulder with ease. not a word as you kept demanding he let you go and call a fucking ambulance.

you heard the van door slide open and within seconds you were tossed onto one of the seats. a van with three rows of worn upholstery besides the driver’s seats, dark tinted windows, completely empty since all the equipment was still inside the warehouse. the door slammed shut again and you lunged at him, struggling, trying to push against his chest without enough strength, without enough intention. “let me out!” you demanded. and he didn’t even consider it. “i’m serious, kim sunoo!”

he knew you weren’t.

sunoo pinned your wrists together behind you and captured your mouth again, hungry, completely possessed. his irritation spilled through his tongue, demanding entry. an entry you gave as he cornered you deeper into the seat, crawling over you, settling between your legs. you scrunched your nose and let out a muffled sound when he bit your lower lip hard before sucking on the soft flesh and returning to the heavy kiss, leaving you no room to breathe. he would kiss you until you understood, kiss you until your body burned so hot your clothes became unbearable, kiss you until you were begging for him.

your head spun. his lips crushed against yours, his tongue exploring your mouth with insistence. saliva mixed, acting like a poison in your system, making you crave more.

when your wrists slipped free from his sweaty grip, it wasn’t to push him away anymore. your fingers tangled into his dark hair, pulling him closer, tilting his head so your mouths could fit better, clashing together, wet sounds and low murmurs echoing inside the van.

sunoo’s hands wrapped around your waist, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt, feeling the warm, smooth skin he dreamed about every night.

his restless mouth trailed down, finally letting you catch some air, licking from your chin to your neck, where he turned cruel - not out of intent to tease, but because he was completely gone, acting like you were his first meal in ages - biting into the sensitive skin, sucking hard, leaving marks that would be visible in the morning, and when they faded, he’d mark you again. his hands moved higher, tugging impatiently at the buttons of your shirt that got in his way, pulling it off you and tossing it somewhere onto the floor.

you held onto the back of his neck, eyes squeezing shut lightly when he buried his face between your breasts, cupping them in his hands and pressing them together, breathing you in, practically growling when the sweet scent reached his brain, memorizing it. he lifted his gaze to you as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, pulling one side of your lace bra down and taking your hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking with need.

your thighs tried to press together, but all you could do was squirm, rubbing against his knee as it sank into the seat right there. he noticed, lifting his leg until it pressed against your covered center, applying pressure, a slow back-and-forth that made your eyes roll for the first time that night.

you tried to hold yourself up on one elbow, your other hand still tangled in his soft hair as he easily unclasped your bra, sliding it down, gathering your breasts to take both peaks into his mouth, his tongue slipping between them before sucking as if they were candy. “you’re fucking delicious” he muttered hoarsely, losing himself on it.

“s-shut up…” you mumbled, breathy, making him smirk before scattering kisses across the soft skin, nibbling here and there. he took his time with each breast, sucking hard enough to leave them swollen and sensitive.

he slid down to the van floor, on his knees, gripping your hips and pulling you closer to the edge now. he took off his own shirt, giving you a glimpse of his narrow waist, lean but toned torso, and the sharp pelvic bones that traced a dangerous line into his dark jeans. you wet your lips watching, and he noticed, letting out a low, knowing laugh as his quick fingers worked to unbutton your slacks and slide them down your legs.

sunoo spread your legs and looked, his hardened length twitching when the lace of your underwear was practically swallowed by your folds. you wanted to tell him not to look, turning your face away and pressing your lips together, but he didn’t give you a choice lifting his eyes back to you. “turn around. ass up” his rough voice ordered.

it took you a few seconds to process before you found yourself pathetically doing exactly as he said.

you hugged the back of the seat, pressing your cheek against the headrest, brows knitting when he lightly dragged his nails over your ass, teasing before landing a sharp, unexpected slap that only made you arch further for him; your pussy was outlined against the fabric, every contour visible, and he practically salivated at the sight. the bassist leaned closer, biting into one of the soft curves, sliding the tip of his nose along your skin until his face was buried against you, hovering his mouth over your clothed pussy.

he licked slowly once, from your clit to your back entrance, over the fabric, making your legs tremble. then he pulled your underwear aside with his thumb, watching a thin string of slick stretch.

sunoo brought his free hand to his mouth, sucking on his fingers before guiding two down to your tight entrance. they slid in embarrassingly easily with how soaked you were. “sssss…” he muttered, starting to pump his digits inside you.

your hands gripped the seat, nails digging into the worn cushioning as you bit your lower lip to hold back your moans, but he wouldn’t allow it. the moment he noticed, he spread and closed his fingers in a scissoring motion, stretching you open and making your eyes roll back as a dragged-out whine slipped past your pouty lips.

“don’t hide, princess… i want all of you…” he murmured against the curve of your ass, licking there before leaving a harsh mark. he picked up the pace, adding another finger once your pussy no longer struggled to take them, pushing all three in to the base and curling them inside. “that’s it, baby… doing so well” the praise hit you like a dart to the chest, making your body twitch as your hand instinctively moved between your legs, searching for your clit.

but sunoo didn’t let you as well. the second he saw you trying to ease the pressure, he clicked his tongue and stopped abruptly, pulling a small frustrated sound from you.

he grabbed the seam of your panties and tore the already soaked fabric apart, tossing it somewhere with your shirt, pinning your wrists against your hips. “i didn’t say you could touch yourself either” he snapped, leaning down again, this time using his tongue to fuck your pulsing entrance while his finger moved to your sensitive spot. it was so swollen, so warm, begging for attention.

he pinched it once before rubbing, picking up a fast pace that made you slide against his palm. you bit into the seat, whining, your hips turning erratic, chasing more, arching… your moans had turned into muffled groans. “mmh, so tight… so good” he said against you, mouth full, opening wider to swallow your sex, his nose and chin getting slick.

“s-sunoo…” you babbled when he replaced his fingers with his mouth, latching onto your clit and sucking like his life depended on it, while sliding his fingers back inside you just like before, stretching you more.

from the way you whimpered and how your pussy clenched around him, your orgasm was close, which only made him hungrier to see you fall apart. he added a fourth finger, thrusting in and out as he pulled to watch your slick spill from you, admiring how your inner lips followed the movement, perfectly fitted. your body trembling like a desperate little thing.

sunoo parted his lips slightly when your body tightened and your release began to spill, soaking his fingers and wrist as it ran down your thighs and dampened the seat. “just like that, baby…” he breathed, fascinated, continuing to finger you through the entire orgasm, dragging every last drop out of you.

when he pulled his fingers out with a soft plop, you were still pulsing, clenching around nothing, making him smile in satisfaction. he bit down on his tongue as he stood slightly, dropping onto the opposite seat, hurriedly undoing his belt and pushing his pants down to his ankles, freeing his hard cock from his boxers.

it took you a few seconds to recover. your flushed cheeks dragged against the rough fabric before you lifted yourself and turned to him. fuck, he looked like a goddamn fever dream.

sitting there, collarbones sharp, thighs firm and pale even in the dim light. his lips were wet, and for the first time you noticed sunoo didn’t just have the snake bites and ear piercings, there was a barbell piercing through the flushed head of his dick, running from one side to the other, catching a faint beam of light. it twitched against his abs.

your eyes lifted to his, and that wasn’t the same band boy you had met years ago. he was different - ridiculously hot for his own good - with a predatory stare that made it clear you weren’t leaving that fucking without being feasted first.

“come here” he said, patting his thighs in an open invitation. and like you were hypnotized, you moved without thinking, biting your lip as you climbed into his lap. you glanced down at his swollen length, your hand reaching out curiously, but sunoo caught your wrist and brought it to his mouth, biting. it wasn’t about him today, it was about you.

he cupped your chin with his other hand, pulling you closer to kiss you again. this time deeper, slower, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. your small hands rested on his shoulders, your body instinctively pressing into his.

sunoo’s hands slid down your waist, finding your ass again, squeezing firmly, urging you to move. and you did, grinding against him without hesitation, gasping against his lip as your oversensitive pussy met him again. “what is it, hm? want to stop?” he pulled back slightly, mimicking your pout, watching you shake your head. “gonna ride me real good, baby?” he asked, and you nodded.

you adjusted yourself, lifting your hips and guiding his cock to your entrance, feeling the cool metal of the piercing send little shocks through you, making your nipples tighten further. you whimpered as you sank down, taking him inch by inch, watching his expression closely: jaw slack, eyes shut. he was so beautiful…

you started moving, rolling your hips forward and back, feeling him deep inside you, so full your moans came out like broken sobs. you held onto his neck, glancing down where you connected, focused on getting the rhythm right since you weren’t that experienced on top. “am i doing it right?” your voice came out small and breathy, and sunoo practically malfunctioned at the question, nodding quickly as he helped guide your hips.

he could bet that whenever those other guys fucked you, it was just some boring missionary where you barely felt anything, and the thought made him grip your hips harder before snapping his gaze back to yours, thrusting up once to meet you halfway, making you choke on a sound.

he did it again, sliding his hands under your thighs now, holding you up as his hips took over, driving into you in a rough rhythm. your breasts bounced, your expression melting as you tried to speak and failed. “m’so g-good…”

“full… feel so full…”

sunoo let your body drop back down and you gasped at the impact before bouncing more, biting your lip, feeling your arms going numb and your thighs burn deliciously from the repeated motion.

he attacked your neck, licking and sucking to muffle his own sounds, unsure whether to grip your ass harder or play with your sensitive tits. “fuck… so good f’me… so fucking good…” a shiver ran down his spine when your lips brushed near his ear, moaning just like he had always imagined. “gonna let me come inside? hmm?” he asked, breath rough, getting only your shaky “m-mhm” in response.

he felt himself getting closer, his hold tightening as if he wanted to fuse you together for a moment. he set a relentless pace, each motion deliberate and deep, making your legs tremble, your knees weak. the coil in your stomach snapped tight, stars flooding your vision as drool slipped from the corner of your mouth.

your nails dragged down his back, your head falling back completely.

you were so sensitive, so full, so- and the moment he came inside you, your second orgasm crashed over you too, wiping every thought away until all that remained was kim sunoo. your body tensed as you let out a broken moan that echoed through the space.

you felt him filling you, warmth spilling deep inside, too much for your tight walls to keep. a white ring forming at the base of his cock as cum leaked, smearing your thighs and his pubis.

his body slowly relaxed. his hand traced along the bones of your spine while you tried to steady your breathing, your head resting to the side against the seat, chest rising and falling as you caught your breath. his once-styled hair was soaked with sweat now, just like his chest and arms. and you, marked everywhere he had touched, with your lower lip bruised from how much you’d bitten it.

the sound of the driver’s door opening caught you both off guard. you looked over the seat as sunghoon stepped in and froze. his lips parted, brows furrowing. “the fuck?!” he blurted before backing out just as fast, slamming the door. poor man. “i need a raise” you heard him mutter as he walked away.

you stayed silent for a few seconds before both breaking into laughter, easing the embarrassment creeping in as the adrenaline faded. you had really done that with him… and it felt so right.

you lowered your gaze, cheeks warming.

“don’t be like this…” sunoo whispered, gently tracing patterns along your back with his fingertips. it was impossible. you had broken too many of your own rules. there was no going back now.

you thought for a moment, sniffled softly, and asked “the words before we got here… did you mean it?” your voice came out calm for the first time that night, your fingers absentmindedly tracing soft patterns along his arm. the post-orgasm clarity finally settling in.

“every single one of them” he replied. “why?”

“nothing,” you tried to hide your smile - and failed - burying your face in the curve of his neck. he smiled faintly when he noticed.

you were his.

***

the dark road was lit only by the vehicles’ headlights, the sky heavy and overcast, threatening rain anytime. since the show had been in another city, you had to head back, driving through the night on the highway just to finally get home and rest after everything that had happened. and at that very moment, a very stressed sunghoon behind the wheel was chewing each and every one of you out.

“and they still had the nerve to charge me that shitty 25 bucks for the lamp. a lamp that JONGSEONG broke, not me. not to mention i get to the van for one second of peace and see you two all over each other in here” the older one grumbled, pointing a finger at sunoo, who was who was sitting in the passenger seat beside him.

“uhh someone needing to get laid real bad” jay commented from the back, sprawled across the last row while absentmindedly running his fingers through the drummer’s hair, her body sleeping on top of his chest. a pile of equipment and instruments was stacked across the middle seats after they’d shoved everything back in.

the comment pulled a quiet chuckle out of everyone still awake, except sunghoon of course, who frowned and huffed, “you asshole, you almost fucked right in front of me!” he snapped, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “and on top of that, where the fuck is heeseung? i couldn’t find him anywhere”

wait. and then you raised an eyebrow, lifting your gaze from your phone - where you’d been exchanging silent messages with sunoo - letting your eyes sweep across the van, counting heads in your mind before turning toward the front seats.

“we need to turn back” you said urgently.

“you’ve gotta be kidding”

“i’m not. we forgot heeseung. we have to get him back” you said, your expression caught somewhere between holding back a laugh and sheer panic.

#enhypen_is_seven

the retinue of noctyra arrived with the first rays of dawn. carriages in shades of black and red devoured every trace of light that struck them, as did their standards, upon which the symbol of an inverted moon stood boldly before a weakened sun. even so, the castle had been abuzz since long before daybreak. you, princess of primaverae, watched as the knights dismounted one by one from their horses around the larger assembly, the royal procession coming to its end as they halted before the grand stairway.

the queen passed by your side and whispered, “please, be courteous” and you merely nodded, lacking any true enthusiasm. trumpets sounded, and soon they were announced: the queen of noctyra, her royal hand, one of her councilors, and of course… kim seonwoo - sunoo, as he was commonly called - future king of noctyra and, to your misfortune, your future husband as well; a decision in which you had held precisely no say.

months prior, the former king of noctyra had succumbed to an incurable illness of delirium, fever, and chills, and it had not taken long for him to depart this world - may the gods keep him. thus, his queen proposed to primaverae the unification of their strengths through an arranged marriage: her son and heir to the throne, and the firstborn princess of the fertile kingdom. it was perfect. they possessed minerals, military might, a cold and striking beauty; primaverae held abundant harvests, enough to feed armies, strong trade borders, and a warmth unknown to the noctyrians.

you were not angry about the arrangement itself. in truth, it was something your amah had spoken of since you were six years old. “love is a distant thing for those born of noble blood, little one”.

but did it have to be him?

sunoo’s reputation preceded him. he was undeniably beautiful, even at rest. pale skin, full lips, and silken hair, enough to make anyone pause for a few seconds in quiet admiration. but he was cruel.

servants found gagged, entire families driven from their homes, tournaments fought to the brink of death for his amusement, and a temperament steeped in duplicity. at least, that was what the court whispered of him. to the people, however, he was nothing short of pleasing to behold, a perfect prince who followed conduct beyond reproach.

you descended the steps slowly to join the others. first, you greeted the queen, who measured you from head to toe before offering a satisfied smile, and lastly, your promised.

sunoo extended his hand toward you, an unmistakable façade of disinterest upon his face as he studied you. one of the muscles near his brow twitched ever so slightly, betraying discomfort in waiting. he had not yet taken the throne, yet already carried himself as king. you swallowed and inclined yourself faintly, taking his palm and pressing a brief, dry seal upon the back of his hand. the gesture drew a small, crooked smile from him; submissive, though displeased, he thought.

“princess y/n” he said, “i trust the hospitality of primaverae shall be kinder than the journey that brought us here”.

soon after, the castle’s ladies-in-waiting stepped forward to escort the newly arrived guests to their chambers, while the knights hauled the excessive amount of baggage into the palace halls.

“at this rate, it seems they intend to stay forever” you remarked once they were far enough away.

“and perhaps they shall” your mother replied. “when the unification of the realms comes to pass, it will make little difference”.

the week of welcome would be marked by many events. on the first night, a banquet meant to last two full days; guided excursions for the prince to become acquainted with the kingdom - naturally, in your company - so that at the very least some form of partnership might take root. a tournament to stir the people and spread the good news, and finally, a grand ball. all of it intertwined with countless meetings, as both realms debated demands, proposals, and aligned their strategies.

you could scarcely wait for it all to be over.

as the firstborn princess with no claim to the throne, your life had always been one of concessions. suitors were never admirable, for the simple reason that you had no kingdom to offer in exchange. you practiced painting, embroidery, archery, learned every dialect available to you, and were still compelled to attend political gatherings; your father deeming it important that you not grow into an ignorant woman, partly bitter by the fact that he had no son to accompany him in such matters.

***

as night fell, your amah summoned you. you had been reading, reclined against one of the apple trees in the rear garden, and lingered for a few minutes before finally going. you bathed, perfumed yourself, and allowed your maids to dress you. once, you had overheard one of them jest that it was like playing with dolls. still, they never disappointed.

a satin gown in pale shades of green adorned you, light and leaving your shoulders bare. your hair was brushed and gathered with an ornament encrusted with small precious stones fastened at the back, a few loose strands falling forward to frame your face.

the noise of the great hall was overwhelming. music, the clinking of goblets and cutlery, conversations, laughter, footsteps. you walked toward the royal table set upon the dais and took your seat to the left of your mother. and just as you thought you might enjoy a peaceful supper, you saw the imposing figure stride toward you, offering a simple smile before pulling out the chair beside yours and seating himself despite the many other vacant places.

sunoo was just as elegant, clad in dark garments of brown and black, his hair slightly damp and brushed back. he arrived accompanied by his personal guard, a tall young man with a hardened expression, a scar through his brow, and a sharp jawline, sir riki. you had heard of him as well. apparently, the two had grown close in childhood, when riki arrived at the courtyards of noctyra alongside other servants, purchased by the former king. the boy knew how to wield a sword and had disarmed young seonwoo in the blink of an eye. what began as rivalry became friendship, and in time, inseparability. he was handsome; you could not help but look.

“do you like what you see, princess?” kim’s velvety voice murmured low beside you.

“pardon?” you asked, knitting your brow.

“oh no, i did not mean to interrupt… truly, i cannot blame you”, the prince continued, glancing away from you for a moment as his gaze slid over the guard standing at attention. “he truly is handsome. but it is hardly courteous to covet another man in the presence of the one you are going to marry…”

you swallowed with difficulty, straightening in your seat.

“that was not my intention, your highness” you replied, sparing him further justification, knowing full well that was precisely what he desired.

“was it not? for i am already submitting myself to marrying you…” sunoo leaned in just enough to whisper the poisoned words at your ear, feigning to the others that he had merely come closer to tuck a strand of hair behind it. “and i would hate for my wife to be some sort of whore…”

the flush rose instantly to your cheeks. an outrage. you wished to rise, beg leave of the table, claim a sudden pain in your stomach, but the young man continued, placing his hand upon your covered thigh beneath the table and signaling for wine to be poured.

detestable.

the following day, you made a point of not attending the continuation of the banquet, hiding instead in the servants’ wing, reading tales of maidens who waged war and rode magical beasts, and listening to the gossip of the girls you considered your friends. you had done it so for as long as you could remember. your wetnurse never discouraged it - and the king and queen of primaverae knew only what suited them - since were so often alone. the other young women of the royal family merely frequented the castle; many lived in distant lands beyond the sea, others simply did not adapt to noble life, according to your parents.

“tell us how the rest of the night with prince sunoo was, your highness, please!” hopeful eyes fluttered their lashes in your direction. for half a second, you recalled the young man’s indecent words, pressing your lips into a thin line before shaking your head to send the memory away.

“it was nothing of note, i swear to you. he walked me to my chamber and-”

“and…?!” they insisted in unison.

“and nothing! he wished me good night and thanked me for the company” you finished with an irritated edge to your voice. “why are you all so eager to know?”

they exchanged glances. some covered their mouths, others looked away, until one cleared her throat and stepped closer, seating herself at the edge of the bed where you sat.

“we heard…” she glanced around to ensure no one beyond the gathered group might overhear. “that prince kim does not truly distinguish between men and women”, your eyes narrowed at once. “and we also heard” said the smallest among the servants, “that the prince seems far too close to his guard… sir riki…”

at that moment, something clicked within your mind, as though a riddle had been solved before it was ever posed. the group, however, lost itself in the subject, eager only to chatter about how handsome sir riki was - tall, strikingly serious - and how many among them had been taking turns volunteering to serve the castle’s guest tower, all for the chance to catch a glimpse of him.

***

you awoke to knocking at your door. it was rhythmic, a melody you recognized. you dragged yourself over to open it, pulling the door only a small crack before seeing your old maid holding a basket of fruit and a red dress.

“are you awake already? you have an engagement today, do you remember?” she waited until the opening was wide enough to step inside. in ten seconds or less, the bent old woman was drawing back the curtains, flooding the room with light and making you throw yourself back beneath the covers.

“tell them i have a fever!” you grumbled, muffled.

“do not be like that, hm? the prince will be waiting for you in the gardens. you like the gardens”.

“may he go to hell!” you went on, shoving a pillow over your head.

“y/n!” the older woman scolded you, muttering softly something about the gods granting her more patience.

soon, you felt the mattress sink at the edge, and warm hands settled upon your disheveled hair, stroking it gently. “i know it is not easy, child. i know days as a future queen can frighten you as well, but if you do not do it now, you will do it later… and i tell you with certainty that time is not so kind…” her calm, trembling voice carried a reassurance unlike any other.

she was right. you rose reluctantly and dressed yourself… rose perfume, and a light, loose gown in the colors of the kim house sigil.

when you reached the gardens in haste - late - you saw sunoo and riki conversing as they walked, as though examining everything. the gardens of primaverae were an ode to eternal spring: white auroras, golden tulips, blossom-bearing trees that shed petals even without wind; still, it was a beauty too abstract to fully take them in.

the taller man was the first to notice you, offering a brief nod and a bow to both before departing.

“you are late,” sunoo remarked. he made no effort to look at you, simply continued along the path of stone and gravel with his hands clasped behind his back. “were you not taught proper manners?”

you wished to click your tongue, but steadied yourself, drawing a deep breath before forcing a smile.

“i was delayed while getting ready,” meaning, at the very least, that the delay had been in service of pleasing him.

“were you?” the prince finally halted and turned to face you. amber eyes roamed over your body, sly and assessing, measuring your proportions in his mind - imagining how his hands would fit around each part: hips, waist, bust, throat… - “and yet…” he took a step closer, closing the distance, bending so his face was level with yours. “i am not impressed”.

you looked away once more, embarrassed and at a loss for words, or rather, unsure of what you could say that would not endanger the entire marriage.

“look at me when i speak to you” he said, gripping your chin firmly and forcing your face up. “did you hear me? we have a problem here… my wife does not impress me, not even the first time we are alone together…” his breath brushed over you as he looked down.

it was too much. the closeness, the insolence.

you grabbed his wrist with one hand and, with the other, slapped his perfect face. his head tipped slightly to the side, and he broke into a wide smile before looking back at you, the reddened mark already blooming on his cheekbone. you saw his tongue slide along the inside of his mouth before he licked his dry lower lip.

“perhaps this will impress you, then” you suggested annoyed, your breath uneven from acting on impulse.

sunoo liked it far more than you could imagine. accustomed to the monotony of the nobility, to compliant smiles and the ease with which his grotesque demands were accepted, it was a delight to find someone willing to play at who would relinquish control first.

he laughed mockingly, taking one step forward, then another, and another, pushing you back with him until you were pressed tight, caught between him and a wall of ivy, far from prying eyes.

“have you lost your sense, princess?” his voice was rough, and he made a point of pressing his body into yours, feeling your chest rise and fall as he pinned your wrists, one on either side. “if i should even use that honorific, considering you behave more like a fucking brute”.

“i lost my sense in the same place you left your respect” you shot back.

“did you? and why should i have any respect for you at all? enlighten me” he murmured, sliding his lips close to your earlobe, nipping there; his scent mingled with his cool breath. “besides, i heard you are already twenty-two… a princess who could not secure a proper husband by that age, with nothing to offer but a tight little cunt for me to fuck… do not be ridiculous demanding respect”.

your teeth clenched together, grinding. anger made your heart pound against your ribcage, and you did not wish to admit it, but having him so close, speaking such vile, degrading things about you, was making your thighs slick.

and to your misfortune, it did not go unnoticed by the future king, not when he could so clearly sense your struggle to remain standing and the way you swallowed with effort.

“by the gods, you are trembling…” he slid the tip of his nose along your cheek. “you like being treated this way, don’t you?” he watched you shake your head again and again, pressing your lips tight to keep from letting out any sound that might entertain him further. “are you certain? if i knelt this very moment and slipped beneath your skirts, would i not find your little cunt soaked? is that what you are telling me?”

you bit your lip and squeezed your eyes shut, refusing to give him more proof.

“i know your kind, princess…” this time, the title was drawn out, emphasized, almost indulgent. “you will fight it, say you do not want it… and in less than a month, i will have you crawling across my chambers… fucked and dripping” he promised, before releasing you and stepping away as if nothing had happened. he ran his hands through his hair, straightening himself and turning his back to you. “do not forget that we have a ride planned near sunset. i know you possess the manners of a leper from the outskirts, but perhaps you will remember to arrive on time”.

***

as the days passed, you grew increasingly frustrated with the current situation.

it was during the walks, when his hand circled your waist with an untimely familiarity, long fingers pressing the fabric of your vest against your skin, while his voice - sweet as poison -criticized everything around you. during archery practice, where the tension reached its peak: he melded himself to your back, the heat of his body seeping through layers of clothing in an unrequested help. Sunoo would settle his chin upon your shoulder, his warm, measured breath brushing your neck, while his hands - larger, steadier - covered yours. he would whisper, lips grazing almost deliberately against the curve of your ear, how you seemed “too loose” for such an activity, suggesting you devote yourself to “more delicate” pursuits, all while his gaze traveled shamelessly over every visible inch of your skin.

and, as if that were not enough, there were the war simulations, where eunuchs and guides tested your compatibility to rule through hypothetical scenarios.

“if we can act peacefully, why would we send a spy into another kingdom? that would easily raise suspicion and place lives at risk” you said sharply, palms pressed against the open map upon the wide ivory table, shoulders tense as you fixed your gaze upon the prince across from you.

“kings must be willing to make small sacrifices for the entirety of the realm. if the spy can keep me informed, excellent. if he must die, then i will know i must proceed with caution…” he replied, studying his own nails. unlike you, he didn’t even alter his tone, utterly secure, at times seemingly amused by the way your lips and face flushed with anger.

beside him, sir riki observed everything in a hungry silence. his elbow rested upon the arm of the chair, fingertips brushing his lower lip as his shoulders slanted to one side; relaxed. they were not the first glances cast in your direction, and since the prince appeared unconcerned, the blond made no effort to restrain himself as he watched the neckline of your dress rise and fall when you crossed your arms.

you were nearly certain it was intentional on their part, a sort of game to see who might unsettle you faster.

“this is nothing but cruelty! frankly, how can anyone consider leaving kingdoms in the hands of a sadist?” you straightened your posture. the primaverae councilor accompanying you closed his eyes, massaging his temples. one of the eunuchs smiled and nodded, as though understanding both perspectives.

“and what, precisely, do you gain by being kind, princess?” sunoo continued, finally lifting his foxlike gaze. there was something dark there, a silent challenge that sank straight into your stomach. “give us some background… tell us what you expect to inherit by being so… submissive to pacifism?”

you bit the inside of your cheek, the metallic taste sharpening your senses further, before turning on your heel and leaving the strategy hall as the young man let out a laugh you could almost feel licking the back of your neck a second before the door slammed shut.

“your highness may laugh, but a woman so tempestuous could easily become an inconvenience…” riki muttered, reaching for one of the books upon the table, flipping through it without real attention, studying from the corner of his eye as the other weighed his words.

“and what would you suggest? that i have her mouth sewn shut?”

“no, that… certainly not” he denied, moving with lethal elegance, bringing his lips within inches of sunoo’s ear. his long, strong arm braced itself against the back of the prince’s chair, enclosing him. “why not give her other matters to occupy herself with? she is always so aware, so tense… women like her are better when they are quiet… or moaning”.

the two exchanged a look, sharing a mutual understanding.

***

during that afternoon, the embroidery room was unusually silent. the other girls were either late or simply would not come. the lack of company was not so unpleasant; you found it easier to concentrate and pricked your fingers less, though the heavy breathing of the senior matron -responsible for the lesson and exceedingly demanding in execution - caught your attention now and then as she dozed. she was a woman even older than your amah, wrinkled and sour as a passion fruit.

through the colored stained glass, light filtered in and reflected curious, abstract shapes upon the floor. the silence of the sewing room was broken only by the rhythmic sound of the needle piercing the linen stretched tight in the hoop. it was meticulous work, the sort of “delicate” task your future husband insisted was your proper place. your hands still trembled faintly with the restrained fury from the strategy hall; each stitch was driven with unnecessary force, as you were punishing the fabric, and every time the sharp needle skewered through it at an angle and pierced the hand you used as support, you let out a soft, pained whimper.

you were focused enough not to notice when the door opened and closed. the sound of dry footsteps approached from behind, distant as it was from another dimension, while you hummed a long-familiar lullaby.

“if i didn’t come to check, i do not think i would have believed it…” the voice was low, laden with veiled acidity. your body jolted in surprise, lips parting.

speaking of the devil…

before you could protest or rise, his hands settled on your shoulders, gripping them with a firmness that kept you pinned to the chair as he bent and smiled near the curve of your neck. “ssshh…” he gestured with his brow toward the other side of the room. the matron had not noticed either, and judging by her blindness in one eye and impending deafness, if they remained very quiet, she wouldn’t at all…

“you seemed so inflamed earlier today… so skittish and hateful… yet here you are now, doing exactly as i told you. quiet and obedient…” he whispered, sending chills down your spine as you frowned and clenched your teeth.

one of his hands left your shoulder, sliding slowly down your arm until it reached your small hand, following the motion of the needle’s penetration, slow and erratic now that your body reacted without permission. the prince laughed through his nose. “sir riki gave me an idea of how to help you with all this… pent-up energy…” his hand continued downward, roaming your waist cinched by the corset, reaching your covered thigh sliding further until he was cupping the inner region. “but i need you to behave… we do not want trouble, yes?”

and the fact that you didn’t answer was confirmation enough.

you found yourself biting your lower lip and tensing as you watched the prince kneel before you, lifting the skirts of your gown and slipping beneath them. your eyes widened as you glanced toward the matron again, then to the doorway, and finally to the subtle bulge beneath your dress where the young man now hid.

a silent war raged within you, but the truth was that your pride was losing badly to your desire. it was infuriating how his harsh words and authoritarian air fueled the fire already burning in your belly. you cursed yourself for being so vulnerable to that arrogance, for being unable to sustain the hatred you had sworn to keep as you watched him disappear beneath the fabric of your skirts. your conscience screamed that this was a mistake, that you should be a dignified princess, but your nature - far more lascivious than anyone dare suspect - yearned to be subdued. you were too stubborn to confess it, but deep down, the only thing that truly enraged you was the fact that he knew exactly how to undo you.

sunoo smiled while beneath you. his touch was gentle, yet unceremonious. he lifted the silk of your chemise up to your hips and, gripping your waist, dragged you closer to the edge of the chair, drawing your first sharp gasp.

he leaned in and nipped at your thigh before spreading them apart to observe your center. the small lips were pressed together within the slit, like a soft brioche bun, flushed by heat and anticipation. when he parted the tender flesh with both thumbs, he could see your untouched entrance and the throbbing bundle of nerves pulsing desperately. he gathered saliva and delivered the first lick, a long stroke from bottom to top, slow.

it was sweet, warm, delicious to feel. it didn’t take long before his mouth was fully upon your sex, tongue working deep while his nose brushed the swollen nub; he sniffed and murmured against the flesh how delectable you were, that his desire was to tear that cursed dress from you and spread you wide for anyone who wished to watch.

his slender fingers curled around one of your calves, lifting it swiftly onto his shoulder as he moved closer and buried his face in you. he sucked noisily, trapping your cunt between his lips and chewing. the slickness spilling from your slit wet his chin, and the way you tried to clutch at his hair through the layers of fabric, desperate for something to hold on to, only made his cock harder inside his trousers.

when he slipped a finger inside, feeling your tight walls, you let out a grunt that stirred the matron awake. blushed and feverish, the only thing you could do was take up the cloth and needle again, pretending to focus on the small tulip embroidery taking shape beneath your hand. you heard the chair scrape, and from the corner of your eye you watched the figure circle the room until she stood at your side. sunoo knew as well; he delighted in feeling your skin prickle and your entrance clamp around his digit with every step.

“this is dreadful. begin again” the old woman snapped after taking the hoop from your trembling fingers and inspecting it through a lens. “by the gods, child, you have done better”.

“yes, ma’am…” you agreed, the words leaving you more as a pant. you struggled not to roll your eyes or throw your head back, feeling the tongue working you slide over your slick clit again and again.

“i shall fetch a new hoop and more thread… you will not leave until you present something acceptable” she said, her slow steps carrying her toward the door.

honestly, you did not care in that moment.

the instant the door closed, the prince emerged from your skirts with a sly smile, far from satisfied. he turned you in his arms with possessive force, making you kneel upon the chair, body bent over its back.

“sunoo…” you called him for the first time, ashamed and utterly weak, and he might have sworn he was delirious.

“relax, i will make you come before she finishes crossing the corridor…” he breathed into your ear before dropping to his knees once more.

you held your skirts at your waist now while the hands of prince kim concerned themselves only with gripping your asscheeks and spreading them, granting full access to your pussy. he nipped at the raised flesh once before returning to lick as though it were his first meal in months. he even edged upward, daringly, pressing dangerously against the muscle of your rear entrance, while you whimpered with need.

it took only his lips sealing around your swollen nub and sucking steadily, while his finger moved in and out inside you, for you to come undone. your legs trembled and you soaked yourself, spilling down to your heels and dampening the chair’s upholstery. he gave a few more kitten-licks with his flat tongue to clean you.

when he rose, he straightened your gown swiftly and pulled you by the arm, making your body collide with his. sunoo’s full mouth captured yours in a ravenous kiss, where you could taste yourself. tongues tangled, and you clutched his shirt, still moaning softly from the fresh orgasm.

when you parted, your eyes, still unfocused, betrayed your dazed state. the prince bit his lower lip, contemplating nothing but carrying you off to his room; the erection in his trousers throbbed painfully now. he touched your cheek with ironic care, stroking it before gripping it firmly and forcing you to look at him, your mouth drawn into a perfect little ‘o’. “feeling better?”

***

the days that followed were a torment of etiquette and enforced silences. you became an expert at observing the floor, the walls, the tapestries, anything that was not those amber-colored eyes. you tried to hate him for leaving you in that state, so vulnerable and needy, but the truth was that your contempt was nothing more than a poorly fitted mask.

if you arrived at the great hall and sunoo was at the table, you would feign illness and retreat to the gardens. if you spotted him in the gardens, you would turn toward the kitchens, where you would finally take your meal. when returning from the hunts, you received neither him nor your father, keeping yourself occupied in your chamber with some book whose words you scarcely knew the translation. you knew it was futile. your maids begged you to give him a chance, claiming he was the only interesting story the castle had seen in years, and so on and so forth.

sir riki also tried to draw near, crossing your path in the corridors and asking mundane questions, as though he sought nothing more than to pad the silence, all the while watching you from afar.

at times, it was inevitable. during the many political meetings when the prince seated himself beside you or across from you, his gaze lingering long enough to make the tips of your ears burn red with embarrassment. when, for whatever reason, he approached you in the library, bracing a hand at your waist as his body brushed against yours to slip between the table and the shelf, forcing you to hold your breath and leave your lips bruised from how hard you bit them. and worst of all: when your unconscious toyed with you, making you dream of sunoo’s soft mouth kissing and licking you while he murmured the lowest insults you knew, and you woke drenched, not only in sweat…

you huffed in the bath, sinking into the stone tub from which steam rose, leaving only your nose and eyes above the water. he was not fair. none of it was. soon enough, the preparations for the wedding would begin, and it would be done, he would be your husband.

the lavender and chamomile steeped in the water were not enough to wash away the agitation bubbling in your blood. in the deep hours of the night, the castle of primaverae exhaled a sepulchral silence, broken only by the crackle of embers in the torches. your body wrapped in a thin silk nightgown with a robe thrown over it, you walked toward the library, hoping that the mental fatigue of dense reading would finally still the throbbing between your legs and the ache pounding just behind your eyes.

however, as you turned the corridor that led to the royal guest wing, a sound made you halt. voices. low, muffled, but charged with a vibration you would recognize anywhere. the door to sunoo’s chambers stood ajar, allowing a blade of golden light to spill across the dark carpet of the hallway.

the first to emerge was a courtesan. you recognized her by sight; she was one of the favorites among the nobles who visited the court, famed for her flexibility and vast experience. she passed by you without noticing your presence in the shadows, adjusting her bodice with quick hands, blonde hair in sinful disarray and a sated smile upon stained lips. your heart raced, and your hand flew to cover your mouth as you forced yourself into silence.

but there was more…

heavier footsteps echoed. from the dimness of the chamber emerged the solid figure of riki. he did not look like a guard on duty; his linen tunic was open halfway down his chest, revealing tanned skin and sweat gleaming beneath the yellowed light. he paused in the doorway, running a hand through his hair with a weary sigh as he finished adjusting the leather belt at his waist.

through the gap in the door, you could see sunoo. the kim was sprawled in a velvet armchair, shirt undone, holding a goblet of wine with negligent elegance. fox eyes met riki’s hawk gaze in a silent exchange of possession and complicity that made your stomach lurch. riki let out a low laugh, something rough and intimate, before turning toward the corridor, forcing you to retreat deeper into the shadow of a pillar, holding your breath until your lungs burned.

the young man walked slowly, passing only a few paces away. he smelled of sandalwood mixed with vanilla, far too sweet. he stopped for a few seconds and swept the surroundings with trained, sharp eyes, lingering far too long when he looked in your direction. for an endless moment, you were certain he had discovered you. one corner of his mouth lifted into a cynical smile.

he did not expose you, however. he only continued on his way, leaving you to stew in what you had seen without explanations. your body even slipped slightly as it leaned against the marble pillar.

it took several minutes for you to steady yourself on your feet again and retrace your steps, locking yourself inside your room. first came shame, imagining what sort of things the three of them might have done; then anger, thinking that whatever it was amounted to a slight against you… and finally, you felt sick with guilt, because the true betrayal was that you had not taken part.

***

after the incident, your temperament had escalated in catastrophic fashion. you refused to eat the dishes of the northern kingdom, refused to attend outings, and when you did go, you made no effort to smile or show politeness to others. if asked about the wedding dress, you said anything would do, even suggesting a black fabric, “yes, black like the ones we wear when we go to the crypts, wouldn’t that be marvelous?”

not even the queens were spared your senselessness.

during one of the afternoon teas, customarily held in the winter garden of primaverae castle -where the two queens had grown accustomed to meeting for friendly conversation - the queen of noctyra demanded your presence. well, at least someone from that baleful kingdom did. you put on your crown with great reluctance, walking heavily toward the place.

the doors of transparent, carved material opened, and you could hear the voices chatting animatedly. something about floral arrangements and what kinds of recipes to serve during the wedding festivities. with a closed expression, you presented yourself and took the seat set apart for you.

“we were speaking of the great day. are you excited, princess y/n?” queen kim asked gently, as a servant poured her more tea.

“excited for what exactly, your majesty?” you replied bluntly.

your mother cleared her throat and gave you a small kick beneath the table.

“well, it is expected that you feel at least somewhat eager for the benefits this union will bring to both realms…”

“sincerely speaking… i fail to see any. we have no war approaching; however, you do have hungry soldiers, indeed. i mean, the noctyrians will certainly prosper, but us…?” your voice was steeped in malice and resentment.

your mother let out a soft laugh and suddenly took your hand, squeezing it tightly, drawing attention to you before turning to the kim. “of course she does not mean it. i believe this is merely nerves, yes? this moment has been long anticipated by us. correct?” your mother’s well-manicured nails pinched the skin on the back of your hand, and the nervous smile she wore begged you to read the room.

you sighed and rolled your eyes slightly. “of course… correct.”

the queen of the frozen kingdom was not convinced. she was irritated. very much so. after the afternoon tea, the guards wasted no time informing seonwoo that his mother wished to see him in her designated chambers. the woman paced back and forth, fingers scratching in a nervous tic without pause, black hair falling over one side.

sunoo knocked and entered as soon as she granted permission. “i hope you’ll be brief, i—” he began.

“deal with your future wife. we cannot have a princess and future queen so disagreeable” the mature voice cut him off. “do not ask me how. i have enough troubles already” she continued.

“you’re asking for a miracle” sunoo said with a dry laugh, crossing his arms.

“then let it be one, seonwoo. have it done” the woman was unyielding. “as soon as possible”.

the prince breathed slowly before stomping twice and turning his back to leave the room. he hated being told what to do, even more so when it came to his own mother saying it.

you were fucked.

he left his mother’s chambers with such heavy strides that the clinking of the jewels on his garments sounded like a declaration of war. he was seized by an obsessive fury; it was not a loud outburst, but a state of nerves so tightly drawn that he felt his blood boil. having his authority questioned by the queen, being reduced to a son who “couldn’t handle” his own wife, awakened a predatory instinct within him. he no longer wished to tame you; he wanted to break you until your resistance was replaced by an absolute need for his approval.

he found riki at the end of the corridor, leaning against a pillar while absentmindedly polishing the hilt of his dagger. the guard lifted his eyes, immediately noticing the tension in the prince’s jaw.

“the queen seems to have had an indigestible afternoon tea” the sir remarked, his tone drawn out and provocative.

“that woman…” sunoo hissed, stopping before riki with clenched fists. “she is behaving like a mannerless peasant, testing my patience. she thinks she can dictate the rules of the game and still have my mother summon me to be lectured as if i were some common bastard!?”

the knight sheathed the dagger, straightening his posture. he knew that glint in sunoo’s eyes; it was not mere anger, it was the beginning of the young man’s forbidden desires spilling over. “and what do you intend to do?” he asked. “kiss her hand and apologize in the name of the unification of the realms?”

the dark-haired prince let out a dry laugh, devoid of any humor, and tilted his head to the side. “no. i will give her exactly what she wants: attention. but not the kind one receives at a banquet. find her.”

“are you perfectly sane about what you intend to do?”

“i am more lucid than ever” he stepped forward. “i do not care if she is in the middle of a prayer or a bath. make her understand that the only will that matters here is mine”.

***

you walked through the inner gardens, feeling the weight of the crown more than usual. the anger that had sustained you during the tea with the queens had evaporated, leaving behind a melancholic exhaustion. weary of pretending that your rebellion was vaguely political, when in truth it was a clumsy attempt to smother what you had witnessed that night of luxury between sunoo, riki, and the courtesan.

as a princess, you were meant to be a symbol of purity, a vessel of good manners who should never feel her stomach twist with longing at the thought of the guard’s hands touching the prince, and vice versa; you should not imagine what it would be like if it were you instead of the prostitute. yet stubbornness was the only thing left to you. you would continue to be “impossible” simply because yielding would mean admitting that their filth fascinated you more than your own honor.

twilight was settling when the guard’s figure emerged from the shadows, blocking your path.

“princess” he called. his tone was calm, but laden with an insistence that made your shoulders sag even further.

“not now, sir riki. i need silence” you tried to slip past him, your voice lacking its former strength, nothing more than the tired whisper of someone who could no longer fight the obvious.

“i fear silence will have to wait, your highness. the prince insists on your company”.

“then tell him i am not one of his soldiers to answer summons” you shot back, though the words lacked conviction. you attempted to pass him again, but riki moved with furtive agility, blocking you with his own body.

“princess, please. do not make this more difficult” he asserted, looming over you. “if you come with me now, we can preserve your dignity”.

“i already said i am going nowhere. leave me alone” you murmured, pushing him with the flat of your palm, but it was like pressing against a marble statue.

the nishimura released a heavy sigh, almost mournful. his gaze changed, courtesy giving way to the cold execution of a direct order. without another word, he moved swiftly. before you could protest or even process the motion, his strong arm wrapped around your thighs while the other secured your waist, lifting you from the ground with humiliating ease.

“let me go!” the shock rekindled your defiance. you began pounding his back, legs kicking the air as he adjusted you over his broad shoulder. “this is an outrage! put me down at once!”

“i warned you, your highness” he replied, his voice vibrating against your body as he maintained a steady, relentless pace through the corridors.

riki ignored your protests, holding you with brutal possession. upside down, watching the floor rush past and feeling the heat of his shoulder pressed against your womb, the shame of being carried like a bundle of silk mingled with a treacherous thrill. you were the princess of primaverae, but there, draped over the shoulder of your betrothed’s guard, you were just a woman about to be delivered to the punishment she secretly awaited.

***

as the patterns carved into the floor changed beneath you, you knew exactly where you were being taken. the guest wing, the very place you had been avoiding since that fateful night. two knocks against wood and you were inside the prince’s place. the candles warmed the room more than usual, and the scent of molasses lingering in the air told you that sunoo had been drinking. your body was tossed onto the mattress and cushions, hair disheveled, one sleeve of your gown slipping down your arm after being carried all the way there.

“you cannot do whatever you please, do you realize that?! anyone could report this to the king of primaverae and your guard’s head would be mounted on the spears at the gates by morning!” you snapped, your throat burning. “and you know what else? i really should denounce you both! not just for today, but also-” you halted abruptly, remembering that sir riki could very well have chosen not to mention seeing you spying on them. you swallowed hard.

“also… what, your highness?” it was riki’s turn to speak as he closed the door behind him. he was… more at ease now. “would you care to tell the prince something?” the blond smiled, malicious.

sunoo watched the two of you, nibbling at the rim of his mead goblet before setting it aside and approaching.

“ah yes, is there anything you wish to confess to me, future wife?” he lifted a brow and sat at the edge of the bed, devouring you with his eyes.

“i have n-nothing to say!” you stammered, trying to recover your composure as you tugged the fallen sleeve of your dress back over your shoulder. “i only want you to let me leave. now!”

you attempted to crawl stealthily toward the opposite edge of the mattress, planning to slip down to the floor and bolt for the door. but before your feet could touch the carpet, riki’s massive silhouette blocked your escape. he advanced with deliberate slowness, bracing one knee on the bed, trapping you from one side while sunoo remained seated on the other.

“why such haste, princess?” riki murmured, his voice vibrating so close that the hairs at the nape of your neck stood on end. “we were beginning to enjoy your company. especially this… sudden bravery”.

sunoo leaned toward you, shrinking the distance between your bodies with every second. the gleam in his foxlike eyes was pure sadism; he knew you were lying, and he was savoring every bead of cold sweat sliding down your temples.

“you know, y/n…” he began, reaching out to twine a lock of your hair around his fingers, tugging gently until you were forced to look at him. “sir riki mentioned that the corridors have been quite lively at night. curious people, eyes peering through door cracks… i wonder what someone like you might think if she saw something… improper”, he feigned concern, his gaze drifting over your trembling lips and occasionally falling to your neck, where a prominent vein pulsed.

“i didn’t see anything! i swear!” the denial burst out too loudly, your voice breaking and betraying your guilt. “i was in the library, i… i only-”

“mhmm, and what else?” the guard interrupted, moving closer, narrowing your space until you were pinned between the heat of their bodies. “were you looking for a book, or were you looking for this?”

he slid his hand along your calf, the touch firm at first, then gliding upward to your knee, making your traitorous body arch involuntarily. you were caught between two men who shared an intimacy you had just relived again in your mind. the image of that night - the courtesan, the sweat, the carelessness - melded with the present, stealing your breath. little by little, you softened, desire intoxicating your senses.

you parted your lips to protest, but all that escaped was a muffled moan when the larger man squeezed your thigh.

sunoo’s mouth crashed into yours with intent, leaving you no space to choose the pace. it was rushed, needy, seeking your tongue as his explored your mouth. you grumbled, your furrowed brow gradually relaxing, and the fists pressed to kim’s pale chest slowly ceased their pushing. hungry surrender took shape.

when the noble released your lips, riki claimed them seconds later. his kiss was different, deeper, more domineering, his rough hand gripping your neck firmly to keep your head from falling back. meanwhile, you felt slender, long fingers circle your waist, working to loosen the ties of your corset.

riki shoved you back onto the bed, observing your small body amid the sheets, a pleasant slick of saliva gathered at the corner of your mouth, the sleeve of your gown still stubbornly slipping, your thighs pressed together. a metallic sound rang out as the boy drew the dagger from its leather sheath. your stomach flipped as the blade gleamed under the candlelight, anticipation making your nipples stiffen against the fabric.

sunoo moved with predatory elegance, settling behind you. his firm, warm chest became your only support as he wrapped his arms around you, pinning you against him. you could feel his erection pressing at the base of your spine, a constant reminder that the prince was no longer playing.

“i think we owe you an apology…” he whispered into your ear, his rough, vibrating voice sending shockwaves through you. “since my princess felt so jealous of that courtesan… since she wished she had been treated like a slut from the very beginning, yes?”

you watched your dress being torn from bottom to top, the sharp blade destroying silk and cotton layer by layer. you looked down as the metal passed between your breasts and let out a drawn-out moan when the guard pulled the fabric aside, leaving your naked body exposed. both of them salivated at the sight of your breasts spread and your core gleaming, already so slick.

“look at this… all of primaverae’s purity here, and it’s nothing but an invitation to be used”.

the heir smiled as he watched his companion bend to bite into one of your thighs. your head fell back against his shoulder, and he slid his lower lip along your ear. “this is where primaverae and noctyra unite, princess…”

the blond could not wait any longer; he tossed the dagger aside onto the carpet and plunged between your unsteady legs offered to him. unlike sunoo, riki did not lick slowly nor prepare, he devoured your cunt with voracity, sucking hard at your clit and moving down to your slit, his tongue plunging deep, lapping as much as he could from your tight interior. his nose became wet, eyes closing as though the pleasure he gave you paled in comparison to the pleasure he took in having you in his mouth.

his strong arms circled your hips as he tilted his head to better drive his tongue into your entrance with animal urgency. your body jolted in sunoo’s arms, your moans stood shy and tearful yet.

the prince, for his part, loved to watch, but he did not remain idle. he stretched an arm out, helping to part your delicate lips to expose the sensitive area, massaging it with his thumb in circles, pinching and rubbing it between his fingers. he breathed out a soft laugh when your moan choked off and your eyes rolled back.

“like that, dear… nice and sloppy so you can handle both of us tonight” he murmured.

riki pulled away before you could climax; sunoo had told him how sensitive you were… and he did not wish to end the fun so soon. he looked to the older man for permission, and sunoo smiled, gesturing for him to continue. full lips traveled up your belly, his tongue circling your navel, sliding higher until he captured one of your stiffened nipples.

your mouth fell open, offering no resistance when the prince slipped two fingers inside to gather your own saliva and smear it carelessly over your peaked bud. he whispered every step, sparing none of the filthy words to describe what he was doing. he squeezed and tugged, cruelly, while nishimura suckled as though he meant to draw something out of you.

***

the tension was almost palpable, a banquet of lust where you were the main course. the prince now released your wrists and turned you to face him, drawing your hips up before holding you beneath your thighs, nestled in his lap. his cock brushed against your mound. he kissed your sensitive neck, sometimes letting out a slightly needy sigh as well; he was aching to have you properly.

“hold on tight…” he murmured, feeling your arms coil around his shoulders. “will you open up nicely for me?” he whispered, watching your little face nod faintly, rosy and warm, as if you were caught in the midst of a fever spell. “good slut”.

after pressing the throbbing head into you, he slowly let your weight sink down, making your soft flesh tear open little by little in a painful burn and a brand-new feeling of fullness. your nails dug into his skin and you whimpered. sunoo was no monster either, giving you time to adjust to him… only beginning to move once your walls started squeezing nonstop.

“you’re being so, so good…” a kiss at the corner of your lips and another on your chin. “taking me just right…” he went on, knowing that the more embarrassed you became, the wetter your cunt grew, letting him slide all the way in.

while sunoo filled you slowly, riki watched the scene with dark eyes full of savage desire. he stroked himself with one hand, his pre-cum spilling and wetting the swollen head of his cock. carefully, he joined you, pressing his defined abdomen to your back and grazing the line of his upper teeth along the skin of your spine.

he sucked on his thumb before bringing it to your back entrance, coating your small ring before pushing in the first knuckle, tearing a loud, shameless moan from you. he worked it inside, stretching you for what was to come…

“she’s so small, my prince” he commented. “will she be able to take it? i don’t want to break her so soon” he said, biting his lower lip and looking down as he already moved his finger in and out.

“she can take it… can’t you? you were made for this, hm?” sunoo whispered, already feeling his breathing grow erratic with lust. he cast a look at the other that almost begged him to hurry.

riki smirked softly before pulling his finger free and gripping his hard cock, pressing the head to enter slowly… taking advantage of the way the kim rocked into you and how both of your holes fluttered, sliding his length inside bit by bit. he let out a muffled groan when he was halfway in and you squeezed him. “fuck…”

your awareness had turned to jelly, your lips refused to close, too busy hanging open to let your moans spill out. your body was completely suspended and pressed tight, like a sandwich… you felt your insides stuffed full, and with every synchronized push from both of them you could feel your organs shifting to make room.

the thrusts went faster, the curses low and snarled, you choking back moans as your breasts bounced with your body moving up and down. sometimes you clutched the prince by the nape of his neck, sometimes you let your head fall onto the royal guard’s shoulder, being split and claimed by them at once.

the pressure in your lower belly were unbearable, just as the blonde’s fingers punished your hips to keep you in place and sunoo’s hands were surely already leaving marks on your thighs.

the three of you moaned, you coming apart first, drawing a satisfied smile from the prince as he focused on thrusting hard when your cunt clenched and spilled your juices. it didn’t take long before he pulled out of you with a soft “plop” and spilled himself outside as he panted, throwing his head back and tightening his abdomen. you watched, sniffing softly and biting your lower lip.

riki still held you tight in his arms, keeping your fragile body against his as he fucked you hard now that your muscles had relaxed more. the guttural sounds leaving him were right by your ear before he started muttering in his native tongue, his dick exploding in thick ropes of cum, stuffing your small channel.

when he finally let you go, your body fell onto the rumpled sheets, your cheeks pressed into the soft surface, your fingers trembling and your hole leaking white fluid between your folds. sunoo watched, catching his breath, seated farther back against the cushions, his hair damp.

the guard stroked your ass, noticing how at the slightest touch your abused folds clenched and more of his fluids slipped free from inside you. he sighed with a laugh and dropped down beside the prince.

“i think it was too much for her” riki said, his voice deep as he glanced sideways.

“oh yeah? i think she finally understood what noctyra has to offer…” he stretched out his foot and slid it along your leg, feeling your skin prickle and watching your body squirm faintly, earning a laugh from both men.

you tried to form a reply, one last spark of stubbornness, but all you managed was a shaky sigh as you felt the weight of their gazes on you. it was terrible and you were already unable to stop thinking about what the next time would be like.