Me If I Was The Realest Anon

TRACKING THE WIP!

Jake wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you. It’s not as if there was a written rule, no ink on paper or statement made it factual. But there was an understanding that his best friend’s little sister wasn’t someone he was supposed to fall in love with. Yet, he did, and God — it had been a hell of a ride.

GENRES: older brother’s best friend & summer romance; angst, fluff & smut

PAIRING: older brother’s best friend!Jaeyun (Jake) x fem!reader

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and drugs; virginity loss; unprotected sex multiple times; a lot of art references as Jake majored in Fine Arts, and I am not saying that there’s a scene where he paints the reader naked, but I am; body worship at some point; also biker!Jake; and he calls the reader baby (valid warning, in my opinion)

CURRENT WORD COUNT: 14.6K

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TAGLIST OPEN! But please, be kindly aware that I am not the fastest or the most confident writer on this site. I don’t know when I am going to post them, so if you want to be tagged feel free to leave a comment or send me an ask at @en-ternity! ♡

right where you left me — p. jongseong

pairing / non-idol!jay x fem!reader

genre / angst, a bit of fluff at the very start, lovers to strangers, forced marriage au :(

warnings / like, one cuss word..., usage of y/n, i think that's it^^

synopsis / jay always said he'd marry you one day, until suddenly he breaks it off claiming he 'found someone else'. months later, on the day of his wedding, you find a letter slipped under the door of your apartment from none other than the groom to be himself.

author's note / dedicated to my jay obsessed best friend!

“I’m going to marry you one day,” your boyfriend, Jay, said softly with a smile on his face as he shifted in his position lying down together with you on his bed to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You and Jay have been together for almost two years, and it’s been nothing short of pure bliss. Sure, like any other couple, you two would have the occasional arguments — but rest assured Jay would come knocking on your door with a bouquet and stuffed toy in hand while he asks for your forgiveness.

You let out a light laugh before pressing your lips into a tight smile. “As if your parents would allow that,” you told him as-a-matter-of-factly.

Jay was rich, to put it short. His parents were CEOs of different companies that their parents before them passed down for multiple generations. You, on the other hand, lived a normal and comfortable life. But apparently, it didn’t seem to be enough.

After you met his parents, Jay assured you that they just put up a cold front. Both of you knew he was lying through his teeth.

Jay shook his head. “I don’t care about them. I only want you,” he said before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

A tear rolled down your face as you recalled this memory. It’s only been a year since that sweet exchange of words that you thought secured your relationship for good. You hate how you were wrong.

You let out a dry laugh. “I— I don’t get what you’re talking about. Was it something I did? Come on, Jay. We can talk this out,” you sounded desperate as you shook your head, tears threatening to fall down.

Jay shook his head silently. You thought you almost saw tears pooling around his eyes as well. But to even think that seemed delusional. He seemed so deadset.

“I told you, we just can’t be together anymore,” he still wouldn’t look up to meet your eyes.

“I know, you told me that. But why?”

“It’s not you, it’s me,”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Jay,”

“We just can’t,”

“A reason. You owe me that much—”

“I found someone else,” he said with a tone so final, though the crack in his voice almost made him sound hesitant.

A silence filled the air.

You knew nothing lasted forever. A part of you knew that what you and Jay had going might have shattered one day. 

But he always sounded so sure that you two were something permanent. Something written in the stars. So you pushed that part of pessimism in you to the back of your mind.

Now here he was, taking everything he said, the promises he made, the sweet nothings you shared, and twisting it all around. The part of you, the ugly voice that didn’t believe in the timelessness of the love you and Jay shared mocked you as it boomed with laughter and insults.

“Oh,” you breathed out.

A man in a black suit approached your table in the privately booked restaurant and tapped Jay’s shoulder.

“Sir, it’s time to go. You’re going to be late for your meeting with your parents,” the man hesitated as his stoic face held a hint of sympathy when he glanced at you.

“I’ll be right there,” Jay replied as he picked up the coat from behind his chair.

For the first time in this meeting you two had, he managed to look you in the eye before turning his gaze back downwards.

As he turned around and walked away, you mucked up the courage to ask him a question.

“Do you love her?” You asked, suddenly standing up.

Jay turned around and met your hurt gaze. His stone-cold expression melted slightly at this. He paused for a while taking in your presence with a look that almost seemed pained.

He nodded once his eyes traveled back to meet yours once more. “Yeah,” he breathed. “More than I can say,” he paused before turning back around and leaving.

It’s been five months since you and Jay broke up, and you’ve managed to stop breaking into tears at every reminder of him after the first three.

There was no contact between you two. And it was easier to keep him out of your thoughts that way. But that didn’t mean you stopped thinking about him. It was hard to do so.

You were scrolling through social media on your phone as you rode the elevator going up to your apartment. You exited the lift and got your keys ready with one hand while you kept your phone in the other.

You stopped in your tracks after seeing a headline on twitter.

‘Heir of Park Enterprises, Park Jongseong and daughter of the CEO of Hwang & Yoon Law Firm, Yoon Jiwon: Everyone’s Favorite Newlyweds!’

You took in a sharp breath. You’ve managed to steer clear of any news and media about the couple for a while until today. You pressed the power on your phone to turn it off before making your way to open your apartment door.

As you shut the door behind you, you noticed a cream colored envelope facing downwards with your name and address written on it.

You placed your work bag down before picking up what seemed to be a letter, sitting down on your couch and opening it.

As you unfolded the crisp paper, your eyes landed on the first few words. And you immediately knew who wrote it. The handwriting was one that you could recognize as easily as your own.

Y/n,

I’m writing this the night before my wedding. And you’re all that my thoughts consume. The day we fell in love, a part of me knew that you were the girl of my dreams. The girl I wanted to see once I walked up the stairs to an altar. And tomorrow, that girl isn’t you. I’ve thought about how we broke up, how I left you, every day since it happened five months and fourteen days ago. I never wanted to leave you. But when my parents first gave me the instruction to do so for them to be able to set me up with someone else, I showed apparent impertinence by not following their words, and they were angry with me. They told me that you were a bad influence. That the reason I kept disobeying them was you. So they told me that if I refused their instructions once more, they would’ve done something terrible to you and your family. I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t hurt you like that, yet I still ended up causing you pain. I thought that if I said I found someone else and treated it like a normal falling out of love instead of saying the contents of the previous paragraphs, the hurt would last shorter. I proved myself wrong with that. It pained me either way. I hope you move on from me. You deserve better. You deserve someone who would protect you and your loved ones instead of giving up. I’m sorry I couldn’t be just that, and I should’ve. I question myself everyday why I wasn’t. As for me, I know I will never find someone as good as you. Everyone else will always fall short. A part of me has loved you since I first met you, and since then I’ve only fallen in deeper. You’ve consumed my heart and my soul. I love you, Y/n L/n. And I don’t think I’ll ever stop. By the time you read this, the ring meant to be yours settles on the hand of another. But it will never be truly hers. One day, I hope you can find it in you to forgive me for the hurt I’ve caused. Maybe in some other universe, I never would’ve had to leave.

Yours, Jay

You finished the letter with a hand clasped to your mouth in a failed attempt at stopping yourself from crying.

You thought the wound was just starting to scab only for it to turn raw once more.

Jay was right. Maybe in another universe.

author's note / lowkey got emotional writing this ermmm.....

when the silence breaks

part 1 | masterlist | requesting rules

summary: after a painful night at the club, the days that followed are filled with silence and heartache. that is, until a late-night knock at your door comes from a drenched and regretful yet determined max verstappen.

NOTE: no warnings are really needed, all you need to know is this is a part 2, and it’s just angst with a happy ending/ hurt+comfort.

w.c: 2.1k

a/n: part 2 to the max angst, this was written for the lovely @inevesgf again of course; but there was a few requests for a part 2 from you guys so here it is! i hope you all enjoy the ending, and let me know your thoughts on this via reblog, comments or asks! reminder that requests are open if you guys have any ideas.

it’s been a few days since the incident at the club, and the emotional toll has weighed on you heavily. every time your phone buzzes, you always look over in hope that one of the notifications are from max, but it’s never him.

the silence was deafening.

you’ve spent the past few days in a haze, constantly replaying the night at the club in your head, each time you remember what was said you feel a shot through your chest, negative emotions overtaking you.

tonight you’re having a night in, blanket wrapped around your shoulders on the sofa as you try to distract yourself with one of your favourite films. it doesn’t do much to help though, because it doesn’t take long for memories of max to come flooding in; it was his favourite movie too.

you end up barely paying attention, the tv merely acting as a background light. the sounds of rain battering against the window only adds to the melancholy atmosphere.

you realised you were gaining nothing from this, so you’re about to give up on the film when a sudden knock at the door pulls you from your thoughts. with furrowed brows you glance over to the clock, which lets you know it’s just past eleven. you debate in your mind if it’s worth even answering— who knocks on someone’s door at this time of night?

but against your better judgement, you hesitantly make your way to the front door. your heart is pounding, anxiety running through your body as your hand shakily reaches for the handle. looking around, you realise you have nothing to protect yourself with, should this be a scary encounter.

you were ready to be met with horrors at the other side of the door, but you weren’t expecting to be met with the sight of a soaked max verstappen. he’s drenched, his hair plastered to his forehead from the rain, and his clothes sticking to him uncomfortably. despite his disheveled appearance, there’s a mix of determination and regret in his eyes.

you hadn’t even noticed the bunch of flowers he was holding until he shuffled them in his hands, and only then did they catch your eye. your eyes widened in shock, seeing that he had bought you your favourite flowers. “i know they’re a little.. worse for wear,” he awkwardly coughed out, holding them out for you.

you took them from his grasp, muttering a thank you as you held them to your chest. your eyes fitted over max again, watching as he anxiously moved from balancing his weight on one foot to another.

for a moment, neither of you speaks another word. the silence is thick, and there’s words on the tip of both your tongues, but you don’t dare speak first, and it seems like he doesn’t either.

the intensity of his gaze is what’s keeping you grounded, not letting your thoughts get the better of you. you can’t seem to break eye contact with him, and it seems like an eternity before your body finally moves; and you signal for him to come inside as you step to the side.

max nods at you, taking one step inside before he turns his head turns to look at you. his presence is overwhelming, your back against the wall as you continue to stare up at him. you gulp at the proximity, letting out a shaky breath before you tell him to head into the living room.

your words break him out of whatever trance he was in, and he lets out a low hum as he follows your instructions. you close the front door as he walks away, letting out a deep sigh before turning around, walking into the living room as you try to calm your nerves down.

you’re stood at the doorframe of the living room, leaning against it as you wait for him to take a seat on the sofa. but it never happens, max simply doing a 180 to face you. the tension is palpable, the air thick with unresolved emotions.

it’s silent for a few moments before max is the first one to speak up. “i’m sorry,” is all he manages to get out, his voice low yet hoarse. it’s only now that he’s inside and out of the rain you can actually see it— he’s been crying. it the hoarse voice wasn’t a giveaway, his eyes were red and his cheeks were flushed— and it was obvious it wasn’t just raindrops rolling down his cheeks.

you sigh, shaking your head at him. “max, you don’t need to apologise, it’s my fault we’re in this mess,” you told him, eyes trained on the wooden flooring beneath your feet. swallowing hard, you felt tears stinging at the back of your eyes as you let out a shaky breath. a sad smile paints itself upon your lips as you finally meet eye contact with him again. “you don’t have to feel the same way, max. i shouldn’t have said anything about my feelings that night, especially when i was far from sober.”

max’s eyes widen in surprise, your response far different from what he was expecting. it takes a couple of moments before his brain finally connects the dots; that you’re under the impression he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings. panic flashes across his features as he quickly shakes his head at you. “no, no, that’s not what i meant,” he begins to explain himself, stepping closer to where you are in the doorframe. “i didn’t come to tell you that i don’t love you.”

your gaze is casted upon the floor again, not having it in yourself to look at him. your heart aches as you try to keep your composure, “max, really— it’s fine,” you insist, despite the tremble in your voice. “i don’t need you to reassure me you love me in a different way, i know it’s platonic.” you tell him, eyes closing when you see his feet fall into your eyesight.

max feels a wave of desperation wash over him as he hears how hurt you are, the defeat evident in your voice. he reaches out, gently grabbing onto your forearm as he pulls at it, uncrossing your folded arms. he gives your arm a squeeze and instinctively you look up at him. you can see the distress in his eyes, his confidence he has every other day is non-existent at this moment in time.

you go to take your arm back, but max’s grip is firm, a contrast to the soft “stop” he let’s out in return. the desperation in his voice captivates you, and you find yourself listening to him, and what he has to say.

just a moment ago you could see the distress in his eyes, but now— now, they were clouded with too many emotions to read, especially in your current state. the seconds feel like hours, the silence between you both almost suffocating. you want to stand your ground, tell him to let you go, let him know he doesn’t need to say what you already know— but the words are stuck in your throat, tangled with the fear you’re feeling.

max opens his mouth before shutting it again, his jaw clenched as he tries to make sense of his thoughts and he wants to say. “i… i need you to listen to me,” he finally says, his own voice trembling. he lets go of your arm, and instead of stepping back, he takes another step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours.

your heart races as you look up at him, the space between you both slowly becoming non-existent, aswell as the fierce eye contact felt like it was going to kill you. “max.. if you’re going to say you don’t feel the same, you don’t have to—“

“that’s not it!” he lets out desperately, shaking his head sharply as he interrupts you. he runs a hand through his damp hair, his frustration evident. he’s never been the best with his words, never the type to open up to you about feelings such as infatuation or love, his emotions were always a touchy topic. you can tell he’s wrestling with his thoughts, trying to get the truth out to you.

“i was scared,” he admits, his voice rough with emotion. “i’ve been scared of messing this up, of losing you, and that fear—“ he stops himself for a moment, inhaling deeply and tries to gather himself. “that fear made me push you away, and i shut myself off. and i regret it, i regret it so much, because it gave off the impression i didn’t care, or that i didn’t feel the same.”

your breath hitches, your heart rate quickening as you process what he just told you. the pounding in your ears from your heartbeat was almost too much to bare, but you pushed through because you needed to know what he was going to say. “then why..?” you trail off shakily, allowing max to explain himself.

max met your gaze again, and this time the emotions in his eyes were clear and unmistakable, and it caused a deep warmth to heat up your cheeks. “because i do love you,” he confesses so quietly, you wondered if you made it up until you continues to talk, “and that terrified me. it still does to an extent. but the thought of losing you is so much worse.”

your breath catches in your throat as you take in everything he said, allowing max’s words to sink in. you’ve spent so long hoping and dreaming for this moment, in so many different scenarios— but never did you imagine this specific one.

“i love you,” he repeats, his voice still quiet, scared as if the words are going to do more damage than he had caused previously.

you know you heard him right when he repeated it, and it didn’t do anything to slower your heartbeat, rather it made it pound even harder. without thinking, you move a little closer, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek, searching for the tiniest bit of proof to help you realise this is all real, and not some sick dream. his skin is warm beneath your touch, and that simple feeling sends a rush through your veins.

“max,” you whisper, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer, like a question, like a thousand emotions wrapped up in one word.

max doesn’t wait any longer. in one swift motion, he closes the distance between you, his hands finding your waist and pulling you against him. there’s a brief moment where both of you hesitate, breath mingling in the tiny space between you, eyes locked onto one another for confirmation.

then, with a soft, almost desperate sound, his lips crash onto yours. the kiss is everything, months of pent-up emotion, of hope, longing and — especially the past few nights — fear, all rolled into one. it’s messy, passionate and perfect in its on way. his hands don’t stop moving, going from gripping your waist, tangling in your hair to then cradling your face, like he’s afraid you might disappear once his touch leaves you.

you kiss him back just as fiercely, pouring everything you’ve felt— every ounce of love, every moment of doubt, every fear of rejection— into that kiss. the world around you fades; the only thing that exists at this very moment is max. the feeling of him, the taste of him and the overwhelming relief of finally, finally having him close.

you finally pull apart from one another, gasping for air as your foreheads rest against each other, the both of you breathing heavily. his hands move back to their position on your waist, thumbs circling your sides as if he’s trying to ground himself in the moment.

“god, i’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he murmurs, breath hot against your lips.

a small smile tugs at your lips as you nod against him, your voice still shaky, “me too,” you admit, just as breathless.

for a moment neither of you say anything else. you just stand there, holding each other, basking in the warmth of the moment. it’s not the picture perfect confession you’d imagined, but it’s real, and that’s all that mattered.

max finally pulls back, just enough to look into your eyes. “i’m sorry,” he whispers softly, his hand moving to your cheek as his thumb strokes it. “for everything. especially for how i acted at the club.”

you shake your head, your heart swelling with many emotions— love, relief and forgiveness, to name a few. “it’s okay,” you mutter back breathlessly, leaning to place a soft kiss against his lips, sealing your words with the simple act. “we’ll figure stuff out, and we’ll work on it.”

and with that, the night ends not with the bitter taste of regret, but with sweet promise of something new, something real and something worth fighting for.

Y’all hear sum? 👉🏻😀👈🏻

📱┆ WEVERSE : SUS EDiTiON ( 1 )  ִ࣪𖤐

概括. ENHYPEN weverse posts that made ENGENES do a double take. 笔记. new sus moments since scandals, headlines mentioned them hehe 🤭

See you again has this aura...

and before you ask: no, you don’t get to know what they’re about!! 🤭 but they are requests, so do whatever you want with that information ✨✨

𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗇 𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗒 | 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇.

synopsis. park sunghoon hates oranges, he always has. the tangy citrusy tingles he's so not fond of it. he also hates you, the living embodiment of an orange: cheery, full of life, and well, round. why should he be bothered by it though? all he has to do is work hard to get into his dream university. but the thing is, he really needs a specific recommendation letter for it. something which he can only get from your father. and hypothetically speaking, he can't just ask for it, so he does you 'a favor for a favor'; he fake dates you on your trip home for summer break and surprise surprise your family owns the biggest orange farm in the country.

or where, sunghoon falls for the one thing he has hated all his life.

word count. 1.6k (teaser) full fic: est 10k-15k? maybe more?

meet the cast. park sunghoon who has an obsession of taking photos with fem!reader who loves being photographed.

genre. fake dating AUUUU!!!! ANDDD enemies to lovers!!!(for hoon), frenemies to lovers(for you), fluff, crackkkk, suggestive, mild smut, sunghoon getting cockblocked all the damn time, set in lombardy, northern italy. popular x unpopular but it's mildly mentioned. sunghoon thinks you are a spoiled brat, a very very studious and upright sunghoon. oh and did you know? orange, orange and orange (sunghoons nightmare) rich girlie and old money reader, sunghoon is gobsmacked at reader's house, parents..(do i really need to add?) and the orange farm.

warnings. allusions as to reader being daddy's princess and being sheltered and hoon struggling every day with oranges and painting a good image of himself to get that letter. nsfw warnings will be added in the full fic. (also no it's not a chubby reader)

RELEASE DATE. 31st JANUARY, 2024 or before if i finish it

written so far. 5%

author's note﹙ ⌕. ﹚ had this random ass idea while having orange juice yesterday ksjksj. taglist is open for this as well as the permanent one, just let me know and i'll add you asap! not sure if this' good enough kindly bear with me. PLS DONT LET THIS FLOP I REALLY LOVE THIS BABY ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

꒰⠀ N O W P L A Y I N G. ⠀꒱ cruel summer by taylor swift, one kiss by calvin harris & dua lipa, karma by taylor swift, me by taylor swift, call it what you want by taylor swift, blinding lights by the weekend, fireworks by katy perry

"you wanna go down to the lake?" sunghoon looks up to find you at the door, more like peeping in from outside. his hands stopping mid-air with his spongebob boxers in hand, in the middle of unpacking what was left of his luggage. he moves at the speed of light, shoving them back in before you can notice the print. but too late you already saw it well, "you wear spongebob?" your laugh tickles his insides and it feels weird how he seems to like it.

no, he did not want to go out right now. after that stressful breakfast in the garden he just wants to fall face first into your fluffy mattress and sleep it out under your silk comforter. but something about your laugh makes him intrigued, would going down to the lake with you show him more of this side of yours? now this would probably be the seventh time he has wondered of how prettily you laugh. the curve of your eyes and the faint dimples on your cheeks his favourite things. oh? he picked favourites already it's weird, he thinks.

"yeah, let's go. just lemme change my shirt real quick," disappearing into the bathroom before you have the chance to speak. though when he steps back into the room,"your taste is funny," his spongebob boxers hang at the tip of your index finger as you look closely at the design. "put that back!" he scolds, choking on his spit while he rushing over.

"why? don't tell me you haven't washed it? now that's really bad hoonie," the tone of your voice teases his nerves but honestly he's used to it, more precisely he doesn't hate it as much as he thought he did.

"y/n," he warns, albeit not seriously and you can see it.

"baby," in a sweet little smile, (one that has sunghoon's hate for you faltering in the slightest each time you put it on) you correct him,"remember?" my fake boyfriend, mouthing out through a sly grin.

it's like an immediate que for him to give it up, he's not gonna win against you. when he used to see you around the university, mingling amidst a crowd of people every single time, he always thought you'd hold nothing against him. in his eyes you were a hollow image, nothing worth it. perhaps he was wrong, for so far you have him tight in a grip, he can't seem to find something to properly hate. that is if he takes the oranges out the picture.

he sighs in resignation,"come on, let's go, baby." happy? his brows rising in a question, softening up at your smile getting wider with a swift nod.

he relaxed too soon.

"was this really necessary?" the palm of his hand slides around your wrist as you walk down the steps of your italian chateau. supporting your heel clad feet and gesturing at the big beige floppy beach hat sitting atop your head. "absolutely! it's my fa- dad!" sunghoon's head snaps at that, immediately turning to look at the pitch of your voice going higher. the real deal, your father still seated in the garden with a newspaper in his hands and dear lord, a glass of orange juice.

it's embarrassing to be seen with you like that, he was gonna say. but oh well, nevermind.

"i see you have your favorite hat on, going somewhere with sunghoon?" your dad asks smiling warmly at your pair. it makes sunghoon scared, aren't dads supposed to hate boyfriends? is he being bamboozled by your family? will he be preyed upon later when you are not there to see? as if it was possible, your entire family though really welcoming of him are a bunch of weirdos, who the fuck let's their precious daughter share her room with her boyfriend they've met for the first time?

when he agreed to fake date you he didn't know he'd have to put on such a detailed act. there's literally no restrictions for you in the house. you do whatever you want, when ever you want. and that includes taking him everywhere you go, because apparently your parents know him as the boyfriend who loves you so much that he can't let you be alone at any time. shouldn't that be a red flag though? he can't with this anymore, just over a day in and he's convinced he can't make it make sense anymore, he just needs to go with the flow.

"yes he really wanted to go down to the lake," what me? when? sunghoon's eyes wander in a panic while you smile as if you weren't just lying through your teeth. smile sunghoon smile, just fucking smile, he reminds himself wondering if he should maybe say something, maybe not?,"didn't you, baby?" the little nudge of your elbow against him tells him that he should, oh god its difficult to learn when to do what.

"yeah the weather seems really good," he says, a slight tremor in his voice, internally facepalming himself. he has one job, and he's failing even that.

"hm, true," the acknowledgement from your father helps calm his nerves a bit but it runs on high again at his next words,"be back before lunch though, your brother and sister in law will be home soon. it's been so long since we last ate together," you have a brother? why wasn't he informed about this? is the universe playing a game with him? as if your parents weren't enough, now he has to impress more people. he can do this, for the sake of his recommendation letter he has to do it.

"yes dad! love you," sunghoon waits like a lone statue as you leave his side to press a kiss to your father's cheek. grabbing him by the arm and dragging him away the moment he opens his mouth to bid your father. at this rate you'll ruin it for him before he can ruin it himself. "slowdown, fluffy. i'll fall at this speed," he tries but it's to no avail, he should have known by now, no one can control you.

the walk down to the lake is quieter than he expected, no bickering or fighting. you show him around the small streets and shops on the way, telling him little stories back from your childhood. sometimes stopping at a spot,"so pretty, can you take a picture of me here?" and it's already the fourth time. he doesn't mind though, on the contrary he finds himself enjoying it. it's not everyday he gets to roam around the streets of italy with the perfect weather.

it doesn't take long for you both to reach the deck on the far left. following your lead, he sits down on the edge beside you, legs hanging low over the cold water and your shoes placed on one side. you sit close, arms brushing each other, little finger atop one another. your hair flowing with the wind swipes against his face when you turn the other way, a subtle hint of sweet (you guessed it) orange tingling his smell buds. instead of grimacing his life off, he leans closer for another whiff of it. "sunghoon!" retracting immediately when you turn back to him.

"hm?" a feeling so out of this world, a haze lost in his mind. your words sound blurry and your extravagant hat looks so pretty on you. he almost feels like he has to capture this. "i asked how you like it? weren't you listening? what're you thinking?" and he does, taking out his phone and clicking a candid. he can't believe he now has a photo of you in his gallery that he's taken on his own accord. he's been doing many weird things lately,"it's really pretty," so so many weird things.

"hey fluffy i've been wondering about something," he speaks again, looking away to try to ignore tiny little fluttering butterflies in his stomach.

"what is it?"

"haven't you ever dated before, why do your parents seem so excited to see you have a boyfriend?" there he asked it, the biggest mystery he can't stop thinking about from the moment he set foot in your palace of a house. if it's your first then maybe that would somewhat explain their behaviour, not that it would become normal altogether, just kind of justifiable that he won't be put on the rack. that he's truly welcomed and he's safe.

"not really, no one ever met my standards," your answer throws him off. what?

"does that mean i do?" he tests the water, cautious above all yet his tone still comes off as one of tease.

"yes, except one," he eyes turn to you at that, pupils dilated with curiosity for the one thing stopping him from the title of 'perfect for you' as your parents claimed. meeting his eyes in a lock of contact, you give him a small smile. hands moving over to his white button up, fingers tracing his collar and undone buttons watching his adam's apple bob in a hard gulp as his brown orbs follow your movements, sweat building up at the close proximity when you both lock eyes again,"you don't really like me," sunghoon immediately looks away, a stab of reality, he was actually anticipating something he could change. really park sunghoon? remember you don't like her?

"am i wrong?" you laugh leaning forward to have a look at his face.

"i never said that," sunghoon clears his throat, turning back, suddenly gaining a surge of confidence. park sunghoon what???

TAGLIST ( open. ) @s00buwu @luvyev @deobitifull @nottkwiwin

𝐒𝐔𝐍 & 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 | 𝐏𝐒𝐇

PAIRING: neglected prince! sunghoon x princess! reader

SUMMARY: park sunghoon, the forsaken prince of the south, had always lived in the shadows of jaeyun's favor. but then you arrived. your presence ignited a flame within him that he had long thought extinguished, and he became profoundly attached to you.

but, when the news of your marriage to jaeyun, the very bastard who had usurped everything sunghoon held dear—reached him, his world shattered once again. now, consumed by helplessness and bitter longing, he understands that no matter how desperately you both cling to each other, you are slipping through his fingers. there is nothing he can do but watch as the love you share is slowly pulled away, knowing that no amount of trying can change the fate that’s already been written. but still, he is willing to try.

GENRE: royalty, love triangle, forbidden love, angst, smut, fluff if you squint

WORD COUNT: 9k

RELEASED: 12th september

TAGLIST: @dollyyun @indigoez @shuichi-sama @capri-cuntz @jiminie-08

@isa942572 @tasnim10 @alienqbrain @arcimedais @irers @mitmit01

@304files @sjakewrld @superbbananananana @deezbin @woorcve

WARNINGS: poor attempt at angst, sunghoon kinda desperate, unprotected sex, pull out method, fingering, breast play,

***

sunghoon was born into a world of privilege and wealth. he was surrounded by unending luxury since he was the lone heir to the royal line. his father planned a sumptuous feast to celebrate his birth and mark the coming of the beloved prince.

everything he could ask for was at his fingertips. he was educated by the most esteemed scholars, dressed in the finest silks, and surrounded by attendants eager to fulfill his every whim. he received expert sword training, had access to the most prestigious collections of art and music, and was given a magnificent garden by his mother.

he embraced every luxury and opportunity, fully prepared to ascend the throne one day. but everything changed when he turned ten. the king, to sunghoon's utter disbelief, revealed the existence of another son, jaeyun, an illegitimate child born of a mistress. 

people were at ease calling jaeyun the king's son, even though he lacked the royal qualities sunghoon so clearly displayed and looked nothing like the king. yet, what infuriated sunghoon most was the king announcing jaeyun as the crown prince, casting aside the rightful heir who carried the true royal blood.

sunghoon was left in a storm of anger and betrayal, unable to understand how his father could deprive him of his birthright and give preference to a kid who, in his opinion, was just a fake.

jaeyun swiftly rose to become the beloved, kind kid of the castle. and as he became the kingdom's favorite, sunghoon watched in rage. it was almost like a bad joke. nobility, attendants, and even royal officials all admired the mistress's kid, the bastard. they spoke of him as the real example of morality and commended his generosity, compassion, and soft heart. in the meantime, sunghoon was ignored, written off as nothing more than a spoilt, pampered prince who was born into wealth and status but didn't deserve the affection of the people.

the world around him refused to treat sunghoon with respect or justice, and his mother was the only one who stood up for him. but, despite her best efforts, the bitterness that was consuming him remained, and she was unable to protect him from the constant barrage of rumors that were echoing through the hallways and comparing him to jaeyun.

sunghoon hated jaeyun for stealing everything from him, including his position, title, and the affection that was rightfully his. but what he hated even more was jaeyun's constant attempts to build a bond between them, as if they were meant to be brothers. he always smiled and stretched out to sunghoon with his boundless generosity. sunghoon couldn't stand it. he hated that every time he made jaeyun cry or called him derogatory names, or pushed him away, jaeyun would always forgive him. that unwavering kindness served as a constant reminder that jaeyun will always be the preferred one, which only made  unghoon more enraged. he never referred to him as a brother since, to him, jaeyun was only a bastard.

but there was one thing sunghoon believed that the bastard couldn’t have; you. 

you were the only princess of a faraway kingdom, visiting theirs for the first time when you were seventeen. sunghoon first met you in his garden one bright morning, where the soft sunlight cast a golden glow on you as you were determined to gather a tangerine from one of the trees. he stood in amused silence as he watched you struggle, your expensive dress catching on branches as you failed miserably at climbing the tree.

“i do not recall permitting strangers to enter my garden?” he called out to you, a smirk playing on his lips. the sound of his words frightened you to the point that you lost your balance and fell off the tree. but before you could hit the ground, sunghoon was there, swift and steady, his strong arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you against him. he held you close, his grip firm and protective, your faces mere inches apart as you both froze in the moment, his gaze fixed on yours. “stealing tangerines, my lady?” 

he liked you in that moment, your wide-eyed surprise and the way you had been so determined despite the absurdity of climbing a tree in such fine clothes. there was something endearing in your boldness, in the way you held your breath as if caught in a mischievous act. sunghoon found himself lingering a little longer, not letting you go immediately, enjoying the closeness. and though he spoke of tangerines, it was clear that his interest had already shifted entirely to you.

but he knew he had fallen in love with you when you began treating him with kindness, not out of obligation like everyone else in the castle did. your kindness wasn’t because he was a prince or someone you had to impress. it was genuine, natural, and so effortlessly sincere. you spoke to him as if he were just sunghoon, not the forgotten heir, not the spoiled prince, but simply a person. it was in the way you laughed with him, how you listened, and how you seemed to see him for who he truly was. and that, more than anything, captivated him.

he sought your attention whenever you came, always finding excuses to be near you. whether it was arranging to meet in the garden again or subtly positioning himself where you would be, he was driven by a desire to be close to you. your presence, your genuine warmth, became the highlight of his days. he cherished every moment, every conversation, and every smile, desperate to savor the connection he had come to treasure more than anything else in his world.

you made him run after you for a whole two years, tirelessly pursuing you with an intensity that left no doubt about his feelings. he begged for your attention, presented you with countless gifts, and did everything in his power to win your heart, all in an effort to prove his devotion to you.

every time you visited his kingdom, he was there, waiting, hoping, and showing you just how much you meant to him, making you feel as though you were the only girl gracing the world with your beauty and grace. 

and finally, you accepted him into your heart. 

you began meeting him in secret, sneaking away from the prying eyes of the court. you both knew that keeping your relationship hidden was the only way to avoid the mess that would come from the royal court’s intense scrutiny. if people found out, it could create a scandal, stirring up all sorts of trouble and judgment. with sunghoon’s complicated position and the favoritism toward jaeyun, you wanted to protect what you had from all that drama. so, your secret meetings were your way of keeping your love safe and away from the harsh realities of court life.

you knew he truly loved you. it wasn’t just in the way he looked at you, but in every small thing he did to keep you close. his love for you ran so deep, it felt like something unbreakable, something that would make anyone jealous if they knew about it. he didn’t just see you as an escape from his struggles; you became his reason for peace, the one person who made all the weight of the world disappear when he was with you. and as much as he adored you, your love for him was just as fierce, a connection so intense that it felt like nothing could come between you, not even the royal court or the kingdom’s expectations.

though, it had all been an illusion – an illusion you both had created in your minds, one that allowed you to live in happiness for a time. but it was always fragile, destined to shatter eventually.

it came crashing down when your families made an unexpected arrangement – one that bound you to jaeyun instead. the announcement that you were to wed him, and not sunghoon, tore through everything you had shared. the life you had envisioned with sunghoon vanished in an instant, leaving only the cold, harsh truth of the kingdom's expectations. 

he thought you were his, that no matter what titles jaeyun held or how beloved he was by the kingdom, you belonged to sunghoon alone. jaeyun could never take that from him, or so he thought. but sunghoon was mistaken. the moment the marriage preparations started, he realized with crushing clarity that even you, the one thing he believed jaeyun could never possess, had been about to taken from him.

sunghoon’s frustration boiled over in the days following the preparations. the thought of you standing beside jaeyun, the very person who had stolen everything from him, sent waves of anger coursing through his veins. he couldn’t understand how fate could be so cruel – how it could give him someone as precious as you, only to rip you away and place you in the arms of the bastard he despised. 

that’s why sunghoon couldn’t just sit still and watch you slip away. his anger turned to determination, and one day he stormed into his father’s chambers. he didn’t know that was going to be the first mistake he made.

“how can you be so blind?! jaeyun is nothing but a bastard from the slums, not even your real child. and now you’re marrying off the princess of the east to him? this is a disgrace and an insult to the royal family and to her!” 

after sunghoon’s outburst, the king’s eyes narrowed with a mix of suspicion and fury. “you have no right to question my decisions! what is it that’s making you act out so violently?! is there a secret affair between you and the princess that you’re trying to protect? speak now before i take drastic measures!”

sunghoon stood paralyzed, his throat tightening as he struggled to find the right words. fear gripped him, thinking that disclosing any details about his relationship with you would put you at risk. he couldn’t afford for you to be harmed in any way. the words caught in his throat, and his silence only served to heighten the king’s suspicion. unbeknownst to him, this inability to respond only made him appear more guilty in his father’s eyes.

the king laughed bitterly, a harsh, derisive sound that filled the room. “so, you have no defense, only silence. how convenient. it seems you have been hiding something after all.” the king walked up to sunghoon, his hands clasped behind and a sick smile adorning his face. “pray tell, son, do you truly believe yourself a more suitable match for the princess? do you imagine that a mere boy like yourself could bring her the happiness she deserves? do you even understand the nature of women, boy? jaeyun will prove a far better husband for her than you ever could. he embodies all that you lack—kindness, duty, wisdom, and the adoration of the people. most importantly, he will be a true family man, qualities you sorely lack.”

sunghoon’s jaw clenched, and eyes fell to the floor, his father's words cutting through him like a blade. he felt as if he was nothing more than a pampered fool, unworthy of the love he sought and the life he was born into. he clenched his fists, struggling to push back the crushing weight of his own insecurities.

“she will wed jaeyun, and if you possess even a shred of regard for her well-being, you will abandon this foolish defiance. if your love for her is genuine, then you will step aside with dignity, for any further insolence will only bring suffering upon her—suffering caused by your own unworthy and unlovable nature.” with those final words, the kind left no room for further discussion, his decision made clear.

his heart, once filled with certainty and defiance, now cracked under the weight of doubt. he felt a wave of self-loathing wash over him. the king’s contemptuous questions echoed in his mind, making him question his worth and his place in the world. was he truly so unfit to love you? had his anger and resentment blinded him to his own flaws? was jaeyun truly the better man—the one who could offer you everything sunghoon never could? the thought of stepping aside, of watching you live a life with jaeyun, made his chest tighten with unbearable pain. he had always believed you were his, that his love was enough, but now... now, he wasn’t sure of anything.

a dark seed of insecurity planted itself in his heart, twisting his anger into something deeper, more dangerous. it was no longer just about losing his birthright; now, it was about losing you, the one person who made him feel like more than just a shadow. the idea of you loving jaeyun, of smiling for him the way you once smiled for sunghoon, was enough to drive him mad. but still, the king’s words echoed in his mind: if you truly love her, you will let her go. and for the first time in his life, sunghoon didn’t know if he was strong enough to do that.

and as he watched you across the table one dinner night, his gaze never left you. he observed your every movement as you sat beside jaeyun, the way your hand delicately rested near his, how jaeyun leaned closer to speak with you. every soft smile you gave jaeyun felt like a dagger in his chest. sunghoon’s jaw tightened as he gripped his cup, a torrent of emotions raging inside him. 

that should be me.

she should be marrying me, not him.

unable to take it any longer, sunghoon abruptly stood, the sound of his chair scraping across the floor echoing through the room. all eyes shifted towards him, but he didn’t care. his gaze remained fixed on you. 

“this charade has gone on long enough,” sunghoon declared, his voice cutting through the murmur of conversation. “i have no time for this.”

the king’s face darkened with anger as he seethed, his voice harsh and commanding. “sit down, sunghoon. the evening is not over, yet.”

sunghoon met his father’s glare with a defiant stare. “i refuse to be part of this farce,” he replied sharply. his eyes then shifted to you, and in that fleeting moment, his gaze was filled with longing. “i will take my leave now, your majesty.”

without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and strode out of the hall, his footsteps echoing as he made his way toward the exit. he threw one last meaningful glance over his shoulder, his eyes lingering on you with an intensity that spoke of all he couldn’t say. the door slammed shut behind him, leaving an empty seat and a heavy silence in his wake.

that night, sunghoon knew for certain that he couldn’t bear the thought of jaeyun’s hands on you. even the mere idea of jaeyun taking what was meant to be sunghoon’s was unbearable. his insecurities, his pain, all fed into a singular, desperate resolve: he would make you his. you might be promised to jaeyun by royal decree, but sunghoon would make sure that it was his touch, his smell, his presence, that lingered in your thoughts, that stayed with you long after the wedding vows were spoken. he couldn’t let jaeyun steal this last piece of his world, and he was willing to keep you tied to him, heart and soul. 

*

you wander through the garden, eyes scanning the surroundings as you search for your lover. you find him in his garden, as always. the early morning sun bathes the greenery in a soft, golden glow, its light just beginning to filter through the trees. the air is crisp, but you feel a simmering frustration inside as you approach sunghoon, who stands with his back to you, staring into the distance.

"what was that all about last night?" you ask, your tone sharp but not quite angry. it’s more of an irritated curiosity, the kind that demands an answer but without real fury behind it.

he doesn’t turn immediately, but you can see the tension in his posture. after a moment, he glances over his shoulder, eyes meeting yours. 

“you can’t seriously be asking me that.” he says quietly, though there’s an edge to his voice.

“i am,” you reply, stepping closer. “i don’t understand why you acted that way in front of everyone.”

sunghoon finally turns to face you fully, crossing his arms as he leans back against the stone bench. his gaze is intense, like the morning sun itself. “what else was i supposed to do? sit there and pretend everything’s fine? pretend i don’t care when jaeyun’s sitting next to you like-” he cuts himself off, jaw tightening.

you sigh, crossing your own arms. “you can’t keep doing that, sunghoon. storming off, making a scene. it only makes things harder.”

“for who?” he snaps. “for me? for you? or for that bastard, who gets everything handed to him while i-” his voice wavers before he swallows hard, regaining his composure.

there’s a beat of silence between you two, the only sound being the soft rustle of the leaves in the breeze. the frustration still lingers in the air, but underneath it is something deeper, unspoken, pulling at both of you.

abruptly, sunghoon closes the gap, his hands finding your cheeks with a surprising tenderness. the suddenness of his touch makes your breath hitch, your heart skipping a beat as his fingers brush lightly against your skin, holding you in place with an intensity that leaves you momentarily frozen.

“you don’t get it, do you, my love?” sunghoon’s voice trembles slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “you don’t get how i can’t bear to see jaeyun near you,” he says, his nose brushing gently against yours, the touch almost tender, as if he’s trying to bridge the gap between your hearts.

“stop, someone could see us.” you attempt to push him away, but he stands his ground, his body staying firmly in place as if anchored to the spot. 

“no, you don’t get that even just the thought of him breathing the same air as you drives me to the edge of madness,” he continues, his voice growing more urgent. “you, my love, don’t get how much it hurts that he has what should be mine - that you are to wed him, even when you should only be mine.” sunghoon’s grip tightens on your cheeks, his eyes never leaving yours. 

you hold his wrists, your voice filled with emotion. “don’t say it like that, sunghoon. i am yours, always and forever. not a day goes by that i am not yours. i shall be yours forever. my beloved prince, the only thing keeping us apart is the world. i need you to feel and know that nothing, not even a promise or a crown, can ever change the reality of who we are.”

the weight of everything presses down on you in that moment, his touch, his words, the sharp edge of the world you both live in. your mind spins, torn between the life you've been forced into and the one you yearn for. sunghoon’s desperation, his jealousy, mirrors the conflict in your own heart. a part of you wishes you could forget the chains that bind you to the kingdom, to jaeyun, to duty. but reality is there.

you know the risks, the consequences that will follow if you give in to this, yet here you are, heart racing, palms sweaty, trembling under his touch. sunghoon’s love is overwhelming, but a part of you craves it. it’s been so long since you’ve felt that from anyone. he wants you fully, without restraint, and that truth fills your chest with warmth, even though it terrifies you.

but there’s guilt, too. jaeyun. the wedding. the vows you haven’t spoken yet but are bound by, nonetheless. you wonder if there’s a way out, if you could ever find peace in the chaos that surrounds you. you want to reach out, to close the gap that has been forced between you. 

despite the anxiety swirling within you, sunghoon’s presence feels like a powerful anchor, grounding you in a way nothing else can. his closeness, his unwavering focus on you, drowns out the chaos and fear. his love feels like both a burden and a gift, but in this moment, you realize how deeply you want to bear it.

“i want to show you a place,” you say quietly, your voice steadying as you pull back just enough to meet his gaze.

his brow furrows slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

you take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together. “come with me.”

you lead sunghoon deeper into the forest, the trees growing denser with every step. branches twist together overhead, blocking out most of the light, casting the two of you in shadows. it’s a narrow, almost overgrown path—one that seems untouched, hidden from the world. 

after several minutes of walking in silence, sunghoon speaks up "where are you taking me?"

you glance over your shoulder, offering a small smile. “i know a place. somewhere no one will find us. just us.”

he doesn’t press further, and you continue the trek, leading him through the maze of trees. the forest seems almost impenetrable, the thick canopy overhead making it feel as if the world outside doesn’t exist. it’s as though you’ve left everything behind- the kingdom, the responsibilities, jaeyun - all of it feels far away here.

finally, after what feels like a long walk, the trees begin to part, but not in any obvious way. the path narrows further, and you have to push aside a thick cluster of branches. beyond the trees, the hidden lake comes into view, shrouded by the dense foliage that surrounds it. its surface is perfectly still, barely catching any sunlight from the sky above. it’s a place that could easily go unnoticed, tucked away in this forgotten corner of the forest.

you step aside to let sunghoon take in the view, the two of you standing at the edge of the water. “this is it,” you say softly. “no one ever comes here. it’s just us.”

sunghoon’s grip on your hand loosening slightly as his eyes scan the serene scene before you both. the hidden lake is breathtaking, a secret world untouched by the palace’s watchful eyes. the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze and the gentle ripple of water are the only sounds breaking the silence between you.

after a moment, he speaks, his voice laced with curiosity. “how did you come to know of this place?” he glances at you, brow raised. “i’ve lived here my whole life, and yet i was unaware of its existence.”

you flash him a cocky smile, a teasing glint in your eyes. "the castle walls are thin," you say with a playful tone, leaning in slightly. "i overheard one of the servants talking about it."

sunghoon lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “so, the esteemed princess of the  east takes it upon herself to eavesdrop on the musings of servants?”

you laugh, shrugging. "sometimes it pays off. i couldn’t resist coming to see if it was real. and now..."

your gaze grows more sultry, a hint of mischief dancing in your eyes. you step closer, fingers brushing lightly against his chest as you slowly unfasten the buttons of his blouse. the intimate gesture shifts the mood, and the air around you becomes charged with a new, heated energy.

“and now,” you say again softly, your voice a mere whisper against his ear, “i think it’s time we enjoy this secret together, don’t you?”

sunghoon’s breath catches, and eyes darken at your words, faces inches away from each other.

the blouse slips off his shoulders, exposing the smooth lines of his chest. his hand reaches for your wrist, guiding it to rest gently on his chest, where you can feel the rapid thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. he holds your gaze, a silent question lingering in his eyes, waiting for you to respond to the unspoken invitation.

without warning, you grasp the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him toward you with a forceful urgency. his eyes widen in surprise, but they quickly soften as your lips crash against his. the kiss is fierce, filled with the passion and frustration that have been building between you, a desperate need to close the distance that has always existed.

sunghoon’s breath catches in his throat as he responds, his hands moving to cradle your face, pulling you closer as if trying to fuse your very beings together. 

he pulls away just enough to catch his breath. he speaks with a voice rough and filled with an almost primal need. “do you crave me too like i crave you, y/n?” then, he moves to your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he presses a series of burning kisses along your collarbone. "like i crave your body, every inch of you,” he murmurs between kisses, "the way you feel against me, the sound of your breath, the taste of your skin. please, i need all of you." 

“then have me, my beloved. have me all to yourself.”

your breaths mingle, warm and ragged, as you stay close. sunghoon’s hands slide to the front of your kirtle, his fingers finding the strings that are secured at your chest and he works them loose.

as the kirtle loosens, it gradually falls away from your shoulders, exposing your bare body to his appreciative eyes. sunghoon’s gaze roams over you with unabashed hunger, his eyes lingering on the curve of your breasts, the softness of your skin. the sight of you, fully revealed, makes his breath quicken and his eyes darken with raw, intense desire. he takes in every detail with a mixture of awe and possessiveness, as if he’s discovering a hidden treasure that belongs only to him.

to him, you are nothing short of a blessing, a gift that he feels unworthy of receiving. his breath catches as he takes in every curve, every detail, his heart swelling with an overwhelming sense of adoration. he feels blessed just to be in your presence, to witness you like this.

"you’re more beautiful than i ever dreamed." he whispers, his voice reverent, filled with a deep, unshakable awe.

he slowly removes his breeches, freeing himself from its confines, his movements unhurried. as his garment falls away, your eyes linger on him for a moment, drawn to the sight of his exposed manhood. a rush of heat floods your cheeks. your gaze trails over his physique, the hard lines of muscle and the evidence of his arousal, standing proudly before you.

sunghoon smirks at the shy look in your eyes before he reaches for your hand with a gentle yet firm grip, guiding you toward the shimmering surface of the lake. his touch is both reassuring and electrifying as he leads you into the cool, inviting water, the gentle ripples caressing your skin as you step together into the embrace of the lake’s serene depths.

“now, aren’t you my swan?” he murmurs, his voice soft. with deliberate slowness, he reaches out, brushing aside the strands of hair that had been modestly shielding your breasts. “such beauty, such grace. oh my lord, is it all for me, my love?” 

sunghoon pulls you closer, his chest pressing firmly against yours as his lips find yours once again, the kiss deeper and more fervent. the gentle waves lap at your skin, but the only thing you feel is him, his hands gripping your waist, his lips moving in sync with yours, the sheer desire in the way he touches you.

his hands roam over your back, the cool water contrasting with the fire that blazes between your bodies. you feel the way his fingers press into your skin, the possessive grip of someone who has craved you for too long, unable to hold back anymore. his breath is ragged against your lips, each kiss hotter and hungrier than the last.

"you're all mine, right?" he whispers between kisses, and you can only softly hum as an answer. 

his lips move down the column of your neck, nipping and sucking gently at the sensitive skin, drawing soft moans from your lips. hands sliding down to your hips, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the hardness of his cock pressing against your thigh beneath the water. a rush of heat surges through you, mixing with the cool sensation of the lake, and your hands instinctively grip his shoulders, steadying yourself as his kisses grow more fervent, more desperate.

sunghoon's lips trail lower, grazing over your collarbone and down toward your chest, his breath hot against your damp skin. every touch sends shivers through your body, your pulse quickening as his hands explore the curves of your waist, your hips, your ass. he tilts his head back up, head resting on the valley of your tits, eyes locked onto yours with a look of pure hunger.

the voice is low and hoarse as he breathes against your skin, “please tell me you’re mine, i need to hear it. i need to know you’re only mine. that no one else will ever have you like this.” his hands tighten slightly on your waist, his gaze burning into yours, desperate for your answer. "say it, please… that you’re mine, now and always." his breath shaky, waiting for you to respond, his need for reassurance almost as overwhelming as his desire for you.

you cradle his cheeks in your hands, your eyes softening. “in this moment, and every moment that follows, i am wholly yours. i promise you, my dearest, no one else will ever touch me, love me, or have me like you do. only you have this piece of me, forever.” you pull him for a kiss, pouring every ounce of your affection and reassurance into it. his grip on you tightens, and before you realize it, he has you pressed up against the edge of the lake, your back against the cool stone as he leans into you, while his lips continue to caress yours with a loving, unhurried rhythm.

his hands roam freely now, the water sloshing gently around you as his touch becomes bolder. the tension that’s been simmering between you for so long has reached its breaking point, and neither of you can resist it any longer. you can feel every inch of him against you, the heat, the longing, the urgency in the way he holds you. 

“i want you to make love to me, sunghoon.” 

sunghoon’s eyes darken with a fierce intensity as he hears your plea. he pulls back slightly, his breath mingling with yours. “i’ve waited my whole life for this, my love.”

as sunghoon captures your lips once more, the kiss quickly deepens. he bites down on your lower lip, causing you to whine into his mouth. seizing the opportunity, he slips his tongue into your moist heat, seeking yours with fevered urgency. his movements are messy, growing hungrier and sloppier with each passing second. the way his mouth devours yours, the slick heat of his tongue against yours, makes it feel as though you’re both desperately trying to claim every part of the other. 

your breath falters when his hands move to your breasts, fingers curling around them with a firm, possessive grip. his palms brush over your sensitive nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. it overwhelms you, and you break the kiss, your forehead resting against his as you pant softly. a thin string of saliva still connects your parted lips. unwavered, he begins to massage, kneading the soft flesh with a steady rhythm, your gazes locked. the pressure of his hands send waves of slick pooling in your cutn, each squeeze making your nipples tighten even more.

then he lowers himself to the same height as your nipples, taking one into his mouth and beginning to suck it like a parched man at an oasis. with a consuming rhythm, his tongue tracing circles around the sensitive peak. he lavishes the same attention on the other, his fingers deftly rolling and pinching the neglected nipple. the combined sensations of his warm, eager mouth and the stimulation from his fingers cause a moan to escape your lips before you can hold it back. you bite down on your lower lip in a futile attempt to stifle the sound, but your body betraying you as quiet gasps escape.

he pulls away from your nipple with a wet, audible pop and looks at you, his eyes dark with desire. “don’t try to hold back,” he commands, though his voice betrays a hint of need. “i want to hear every sound you make.”

he then attaches himself to your other nipple, wetting it with his saliva like the other one. your hands instinctively grip his hair as you arch your back. his mouth works eagerly, his tongue flicking and sucking with a relentless rhythm. his fingers dip into the water and finds your clit, teasing it with skilled strokes.

the pleasure builds swiftly as he lavishes your breasts with attention, his hot, insistent mouth working in tandem with the relentless stimulation below. the overwhelming sensations push you to the edge, gasps and moans escaping uncontrollably as your body trembles under his touch.

“sunghoon… it feels-” you say, tightening your grip on his hair as you battle to retain your control.

“good? this is nothing compared to what i am about to make you feel, my love.” 

suddenly, a loud moan erupts from you as his finger breaches your entrance, sliding inside with a slow, deliberate motion. the new sensation leaves you breathless, your body instinctively pushing back against his hand, wanting more. the sight of him never taking his eyes from your face as he keeps busying his mouth, sucking and teasing your nipple, is an utterly lewd display, his gaze filled with raw desire. 

he curls his finger within you, searching for that perfect spot to send you spiraling further into pleasure. every movement of his hand is synchronized with his mouth on your chest, his touch igniting a fire that spreads through your entire body. you feel yourself losing control, the overwhelming pleasure making it harder to hold back your cries.

he inserts another finger inside you, scissoring them to ease you open nicely. you feel a deep pressure building within, like a tightly wound knot yearning to be undone. with each stroke, the tension winds tighter, leaving you aching with a desperate need for release.

“i… ugh please, sunghoon, i wanna cum,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the urgency of your desire. hearing the desperation in your voice, his fingers hasten, thrusting deeper with a renewed fervor. every stroke sends a jolt of pleasure through you, drawing you closer to the brink, your body instinctively arching towards him as the pressure inside you mounts, ready to burst.

the lake water churns around his rapidly moving wrist, splashing against parts of your body that have remained dry until now. the sudden coolness of the water only heightens your climax as you come undone on his fingers. your broken moans reverberate through the forest, and you can only cling to the hope that no one is nearby to hear you.

sunghoon helps you ride out your orgasm before withdrawing his fingers. gently, he brushes the damp strands of hair clinging to your face from sweat, then cups your face in his hands and captures your lips in a searing kiss. lips moving against each other in a harmonious rhythm, and his tongue dances with yours in a way that feels both urgent and consuming.

sunghoon's fingers trail down the sides of your thighs, gripping hard enough to leave marks, his eyes burning with desire as they wordlessly tell you to prepare yourself.

with a throaty sound, he pulls you up in one swift motion, your body rising from the water as his hands grip your thighs tightly. your legs instinctively wrap around him, pulling him against you as he steps forward, pinning you against the rugged stone, its cold surface digging into your skin.

you cling to his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as he keeps you suspended against the rough stone. his hands move higher up your thighs, fingers digging in as he adjusts his grip, making sure you're locked around him. 

you feel the tip of his cock pressing against your folds, the thin layer of water between you doing nothing to cool the growing heat. you both whimper when his hips press forward, cock grinding against your folds in slow, teasing motions.

“sunghoon, don’t tease,” you moan as his cock’s tip presses inside you, then pulls out with a maddening slowness. the slick head brushes against your sensitive inner walls before withdrawing, making your body writhe in frustration. you shiver, your hole gaping as it aches for the fullness that was just barely given. “please, just fill me up. i need you inside me."

hearing your desperate plea, his hips snap forward with a brutal force, the head of his cock slamming deep inside you. a guttural groan rumbles from his throat as he fills you completely, stretching you with a pressure so intense it makes you shiver. you moan loudly, your walls clamping down around him, trying to accommodate his hard, throbbing length.

he wastes no time, thrusting into you with a relentless pace, each motion driving him deeper, his cock dragging along your inner walls with an intoxicating friction. the raw and rough feeling of him moving in and out makes your body quiver with intense pleasure.

he thrusts into you with such unrelenting force that each powerful stroke causes you to bounce up and down on his cock, making your tits jiggle with every thrust, moving rhythmically to match his powerful rhythm. his strong arms, wrapped securely around your thighs, keep you steady; without his firm hold, you would surely topple into the water. 

while he continues to drive into you, he lowers his mouth to your collarbone and begins to kiss, bite and lick the sensitive skin there. his lips are hot and insistent, trailing a path of fiery pleasure along your neck and shoulders. your mouth falls open in a breathless gasp, the only sounds escaping you are guttural moans of ugh ugh ugh that reverberate in the air.

as the pressure inside you mounts, your fingers claw at his back, leaving angry red trails as you cling to him for support. each thrust he delivers feels impossibly deep, his cock stretching you to the brink with every powerful movement. 

your climax builds rapidly, and you clench around him, muscles spasming around his cock with intense need. you can hardly keep your moans in check, the sound of your gasps mingling with the rhythmic slapping of flesh.

feeling the way your pussy tightens around him, he growls low and rough into your ear, his voice dripping with lust. “you’re so tight, my love, i can barely hold on. perfectly wrapped around my cock like you were made for me.” his filthy words drive you even closer to the edge. your head is thrown back, eyes shut tight, your body quaking uncontrollably as you come undone around his cock. 

he continues to thrust into you with relentless intensity. your body, already sensitive and over-stimulated from your recent climax, quakes with every powerful motion. the sensation of his hard cock pounding inside you is nearly overwhelming, making it difficult to catch your breath as the relentless pleasure surges through you.

as he feels the pressure building within him, he pulls out abruptly, the sudden emptiness making you gasp and shiver. his grip on you tightens with one strong arm, keeping you pressed  between the wall and his chest. with his other hand, he begins to pump his throbbing cock furiously, his movements desperate and urgent. each stroke is fast and rough, his hand sliding up and down his length with a frenzied rhythm as he chases his own climax.

his breath grows ragged and uneven, his groans becoming more guttural as he nears the edge. the water around begins to ripple with his frantic movements, the sound of his pleasure mingling with your own gasps. finally, with a low, throaty growl, he reaches his peak, his body convulsing as thick, hot streams of cum shoot from the tip of his cock. the warmth of his release spills into the water, mixing with the ripples created by your own tremors.

as he finishes, his hand slows, and he gasps for breath, still clutching you. the lake is tainted with his cum, turning the clear water cloudy with its creamy white streaks.

sunghoon carefully lets you down, his hands slowly loosening their grip on your thighs but keeping you close, never fully letting go. your bodies remain pressed together, slick with sweat and lake water, your skin sticking to his as your chests rise and fall in sync, catching your breath. his forehead rests against yours, the warmth of his skin comforting. between you, his cock, now soft but still thick, rests against your stomach, a reminder of how nice and hard he’d just fucked you.

his lips trail across your face, soft and unhurried, each kiss deliberate and warm. the gentle brush of his nose against your cheek sends a shiver through you as he moves down to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "i love you," he whispers, the words barely audible but filled with a deep sincerity, his voice low and intimate.

his arms remain around you, holding you close as he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. "you're mine," he murmurs, his tone firmer now, possessive but tender.

sunghoon gently guides you out of the lake, his grip both firm and tender, ensuring your safety on the uneven ground. as you step onto the soft grass, he supports you, his hands brushing away droplets of water from your skin.

he retrieves your kirtle from where it was set aside. as he holds it up, his fingers brush your skin, sending a shiver through you. he helps you into the kirtle, the material clinging slightly as it slips over your body. sunghoon fastens the straps with a practiced touch, his fingers lingering on the delicate fabric. each movement is meticulous, as if he’s trying to memorize every detail of this fleeting moment.

as sunghoon finishes fastening the last strap of your kirtle, his thoughts drift to the bittersweet reality of your situation. he feels incredibly fortunate to have shared such a deep connection with you, to have experienced your love and to hold you in his arms. the warmth of the moment, the way you look at him, and the way your body fits against his all fill him with a profound sense of luck.

yet, this profound sense of luck is tempered by a heavy dose of misfortune. the knowledge that you will soon leave his side to return to jaeyun and the duties that come with being by his side weighs heavily on him. the thought of you being with someone else, especially that someone being jaeyun, fills him with an ache he can’t easily shake.

sunghoon’s heart longs for more than just these moments. he wishes he could take you far away from the constraints of the kingdom, from jaeyun, and from the burdens of duty. he dreams of a place where the only thing that matters is the two of you, where worries and obligations don’t intrude on your happiness.

for now, though, all he can do is hold you close, cherish the time you have together, and hope that one day, he can make his dream of a life together away from everything else a reality.

“if only we could remain like this forever.” hee murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, holding you close one last time before you part again. as he drapes his blouse over your shoulders to shield you from the morning breeze, he presses a soft kiss to your neck, his touch lingering with a tender warmth.

*

being with sunghoon is not without its difficulties. each moment together demands a careful balance, where every look and touch is meticulously controlled to keep your affair with him under wraps. 

over the years, you've both perfected this unspoken language. a fleeting glance, a slight tilt of the head, or a barely perceptible smile - all of these become powerful tools in your covert exchanges. it’s an intricate dance of subtlety and intuition, where a single look can convey a world of emotions and thoughts. you've learned to read each other's cues with astonishing accuracy, understanding what the other is saying without a single word being spoken.

sunghoon, for instance, has become adept at detecting the smallest signs of your distress. he can sense when you're upset by the way your gaze momentarily drifts or how your smile falters just a fraction too long. a subtle furrow of your brow or the way you avoid direct eye speaks volumes to him. he’s attuned to these subtle signals, knowing instantly when something is amiss.

just like always, he notices how your body language shifts subtly right now too - the way you absently fidget with your dress or how your gaze drifts towards the window, clearly searching for an escape from the stifling room. it’s evident to him that you're not enjoying the conversation between your older brother jongseong and jaeyun, as they drone on about politics and subjects that bore you to tears.

sunghoon’s eyes narrow slightly as he watches you, his concern masked by a composed expression. he can see the restlessness in your posture, the way you shift your weight from one foot to the other. every now and then, you glance at the door as if willing it to open and offer a reprieve.

oh, the ways he could make you feel good, unlike jaeyun who is making you listen political matters that you couldn’t care less. 

he could slip his fingers inside you, feeling every tight, hot inch as he stroked and teased those sensitive spots, making you writhe with overwhelming pleasure. his mouth could bury itself between your legs, lapping up your sweet nectar and driving you wild with every skilled lick and insistent suck. and his cock, it could plunge deep inside you, filling you to the hilt and delivering a relentless, mind-shattering pleasure that no other man could ever hope to match.

he fantasizes about taking you in this very room, in front of jaeyun, to prove just how much you crave him and need him to make you forget everything else. sunghoon imagines your body responding to his touch, the sounds of your moans calling out his name, and how he could bring you to a peak of pleasure that leaves you utterly spent, all while jaeyun watches as soon-to-be-bride being ravished by him.

the vivid images make sunghoon’s pants tighten. he shifts slightly, trying to adjust his position discreetly, but the growing tension in his trousers becomes impossible to ignore. he knows he needs to act on his desire, and quickly. sunghoon subtly shifts his gaze towards you, his eyes locking with yours for a fleeting moment, filled with a smoldering intensity. then, with a casual but deliberate movement, he crosses his arms over his chest and leans slightly against the wall.

his stance is carefully crafted to appear nonchalant, but his posture is intentionally relaxed, his body angled in a way that draws your attention to the slight, purposeful pressure he applies against the wall with his hip. it’s a subtle but unmistakable signal, a quiet, urgent plea for you to follow him, to find a way to get closer, and to address the growing need he has ignited within him.

as you notice his silent message, you decide to make an excuse to leave the room. you mumble about needing to step outside for some fresh air, citing a vague headache that has suddenly come on. your voice is calm, but there's an edge of urgency as you quickly exit the room.

jaeyun’s gaze follows you as you leave, his eyes revealing a depth of unspoken emotions. though his expression is subdued, there’s a quiet longing in his stare. it’s more than just idle curiosity; his look reflects a mix of disappointment and a barely concealed yearning, as he silently observes your departure with a sense of unvoiced heartache.

sunghoon, noticing the subtle shift in jaeyun’s demeanor, lets a smirk creep onto his face. he meets jaeyun’s gaze with a knowing, almost triumphant expression before turning to follow you out of the room. the smirk lingers on his lips as he exits, leaving jaeyun behind, whose eyes remain fixed on the door, his expression a blend of wistful longing and resignation.

even as you're bouncing on his cock vigorously, sunghoon’s triumphant grin stays fixed, relishing the intense pleasure that the bastard never can have.

he lays on his back, eyes fixed on the way your breasts bounce with each thrust. gripping your hips tightly, he guides you to ride him harder and faster, ensuring to make sure you don’t miss a single stroke. with each movement, he takes satisfaction in the control he has over your body, his pleasure intensifying as he brings you closer to your peak.

as you cum, your body convulses with intense pleasure, and you collapse onto Sunghoon’s chest, trembling. he groans deeply, pulling out of you with a rough jerk. his thick, hot cum spills between your thighs, seeping down your skin. sunghoon, still catching his breath, carefully lays you onto your side, his eyes fixed on the mess he’s made.

with a satisfied smirk, he strokes your hair, his eyes fixed on the mess he’s made

, his cum glistening on your flushed skin. he watches intently as it trickles slowly down your inner thighs, savoring every drop. his hands, now resting possessively on your hips, hold you close, feeling the warmth of your spent body pressed against him. his breathing is ragged, each inhale a testament to the raw pleasure and control he’s reveling in. the scene of his dominance, with you at his mercy, drives him to the brink of satisfaction as he admires the evidence of his claim.

“you are breathtaking, my love.”

you smile faintly, your eyes barely open as you lay beside him, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax. sunghoon’s gaze softens slightly, his smirk giving way to a genuine, if tired, smile. he runs his fingers gently over your skin, savoring the warmth and softness of you against him. 

“i want us to leave all of this behind,” he says quietly, his voice a blend of resolve and affection. “this palace, the endless expectations, the life that’s been forced upon us—let’s abandon it all. i need you with me, y/n, far away from here, where we can build something real and ours. a place where no one knows our names, where we can escape from all the burdens and start anew.”

he gently squeezes your hand, his expression earnest and hopeful. “imagine a life where we’re not bound by duty or tradition, where we can simply be ourselves, where we don’t need to hide from everyone.” 

as soon as you part your lips to say his name, “sunghoon…” his hand reaches up to gently cup your cheek, silencing you with a soft touch. his eyes are intense, filled with longing, but also with a flicker of hope as he continues.

“i know what you're going to say,” he murmurs, his voice unwavering. “but just hear me out.” he moves closer, his forehead almost resting against yours as his words spill out with quiet urgency. “we could go north, far beyond the mountains, to a place where no one knows us. i could build us a home, nothing grand, just something simple. you’ve always wanted a small house and a farm, haven’t you? somewhere quiet, peaceful, where we can live on our own terms.”

his thumb brushes over your lips, his tone growing more earnest. “i’ll work the land. i'll give you everything you need. no more castle walls, no more titles or duties. just us. we could wake up with the sun, plant gardens, raise animals, and fall asleep under the stars. you always say sheep are cute, i could get you a whole flock if you want.” you don’t miss the quivering in his voice as he rambles continuously, “imagine… you, tending to them every morning, their soft wool in your hands. maybe a little goat or two as well, something to make you smile every day. that’s all i want, y/n—a life with you, away from this place, away from everything that’s held us back.”

sunghoon’s eyes glisten slightly as he searches yours, his grip on your cheeks tightening ever so slightly. “we could have a life we’ve only dreamed of.” 

your eyes glisten with unshed tears as you hold his gaze, a faint, broken smile tugging at your lips. “sunghoon,” you whisper, your voice wavering. “you don’t even believe those words.”

his face falters for a moment, the hope in his eyes dimming just slightly, but his grip on you remains firm. "i do," he insists, his voice low, almost pleading. “i believe it-” 

"you want to believe it," you interrupt gently, your voice cracking. "and believe me, i want to too. i'd love to wake up next to you, tend to sheep, live that simple life… but we can’t, sunghoon." your eyes well with tears as you hold his gaze, the broken smile fading. "we can’t just leave it all behind. it’s not that simple as it sounds.” 

“please don’t say no, y/n,” he says quietly, his voice cracking with the weight of his plea. he holds you close, his grip firm but gentle.

“i’m sorry, Sunghoon,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “i wish things were different. i wish we could escape and live that life together, but i just can’t.”

sunghoon's face crumples with the weight of your words. his shoulders slump as if the very air has been knocked from his lungs. the passionate fervor in his eyes dims, replaced by a deep, aching sadness. his grip on you tightens momentarily, as if trying to hold onto the fleeting hope you offered, but the strength quickly ebbs away.

the light that once danced in his eyes is now overshadowed by a shadow of despair. he swallows hard, his chest rising and falling unevenly as he struggles to contain the storm of emotions raging within him. his hands, which had been tenderly cupping your face, now fall limply to his sides. 

it hits him hard. that you being with jaeyun and playing the role of his wife is like a knife in his heart. he has a tremendous feeling of hopelessness, knowing that he can no longer fight for the life he always dreamed. 

the thought of never being able to claim you openly or stand by your side without hiding makes him feel confined and smothered. he future he wished for is now permanently out of reach.

he knows that, even if he were to try and find a semblance of normalcy, he will always be living in the shadow of jaeyun. 

The Parks

In which Sunghoon loses his mind thinking his wife is cheating.

Warnings: NSFW, switch!Sunghoon, switch!reader, cheating allegations, slight breeding kink, forced!cream creampie kind of? But like not really forced?

Sunghoon could feel something was up. And though he knew he hadn't been as present lately for his wife as he'd like to be, he knew he didn't quite deserve the cold shoulder he was getting either. He was busy with work, but that didn't stop him from trying. He'd run her a bubble bath when he got home, one of their favorite things to do together, but she'd decline joining him. He'd buy her little gifts, her only reaction being a kiss on the cheek and a small 'thank you'. He'd hold her close to him, kissing her neck and whispering 'I love you's. She'd respond with a quiet hum. She had only been acting this way for a week or two now, but it was driving him insane. In the almost year that they'd been married, they had grown inseparable. They told each other everything, so the way she was shutting him out lately made him uncomfortable. In fact, it was scaring him. Was she falling out of love with him? Was she planning on... leaving him? Was there someone else? The unknown was killing him. So, when he first noticed her behavior shift, he immediately went to work trying to fix things. Unfortunately, his idea of fixing things was to throw her birth control away and trick her into thinking he was at work when in reality he was following her every move. On this particular morning after she had fixed his breakfast and he ate, he couldn't help but notice her phone going off. He watched her eyes cut to the phone, a small grin on her face as she flipped it over so her screen couldn't be seen. Sunghoon felt his blood beginning to boil.

"Who's that?" He forced a fake smile.

"Huh? Oh, um... I don't know, I didn't check,"

"Might be important. You should look," He felt his jaw twitch in irritation.

"It's ok. I'll check it later." She brushed him off.

"Any plans for today?"

"Nope. Just a little cleaning. Are you done eating? Because you kind of have to go or you'll be late," She took his plate before he could respond before grabbing his jacket and keys, waiting for him by the door. He met her there, feeling more anxious than ever. He slipped his jacket on never once looking away from her. She kissed his cheek and turned away.

"Bye, have a good da-" She was cut off by Sunghoon gripping her by the arm, turning her back to face him. He looked deep into those beautiful eyes that he loved so much before smashing his lips to hers, kissing her with every ounce of love in him. He pulled a centimeter away from her lips before he spoke.

"I love you, Wife. With everything in me." She looked up through her lashes, a small smile on her face.

"I know you do. Now go to work, Babe."

I know. I know. That was her response. Sunghoon could feel his heart starting to race with fear as he turned and left. I know. Not, "I love you, too". His mind was so preoccupied he didn't even notice he had arrived at his car. He got in, slamming the door shut behind him in anger.

And then he waited. Ten minutes. Thirty minutes. An hour. When an hour and ten minutes has passed, that's when he saw her. She clearly was planning on doing more than just a little cleaning. She looked beautiful, as she always did, her hair and makeup done to perfection. Her outfit and heels accentuating her yummy curves. He watched as she gracefully dipped into her car before pulling off. He immediately followed her, ending up at a small but expensive looking café. She handed her keys to valet, before walking inside.

From his car, Sunghoon could see that it was pretty empty inside. He watched her confidently walk up to a table, her wedding ring sparkling as she laid a dainty finger on the shoulder of a man. The man stood up before embracing her, his smooth brown skin blending with hers. He hugged her tightly and warmly, like he had done so a million times before. The harder Sunghoon stared the more the man looked familiar to him, but he just couldn't figure it out. Especially with how his mind was flooding with rage. Sunghoon sat watching her for the entire time she was there. He was a ticking bomb as she smiled and giggled, playfully pushing the unidentified man in front of her. His fist balled as he watched the man pay their check, before digging into the pocket of his jacket and dropping something small and shiny into her palm. He saw her eyes light up as she hugged the man again, this time placing a kiss on his cheek. Sunghoon didn't see them as they waved goodbye to each other because he had already left. Sunghoon was fuming. He drove around in his car for hours, pondering over what to do. How could she do this to him? To them? Up until a little while ago, they had been very happy together. Sunghoon spoiled the fuck out of her, treating her like an absolute queen and giving her whatever her heart desired because he loved her more than anything. He kept her sexual appetite satisfied, as insatiable as they were for each other. She was his best friend, his favorite person and he was hers. He gave her everything she'd need to be happy with him. Or so he thought. He felt so lost, his heart aching at the thought of her cheating on him. He didn't know what to do, so he decided to go home. He walked in the house silently, making as little noise as possible. He could hear her rustling around in their bedroom, as she was talking to someone on the phone, so he stood near the door to eavesdrop.

"No, Sunghoon literally has no clue we're leaving," He peeked his head into the room, a gasp escaping him at the sight before him. She was zipping two huge suitcases closed, both stuffed so full that she had to sit on top of them.

"This is so exciting, but sneaking around behind his back is literally so exhausting. I can't wait to get out of here." Her voice faded as she dragged the bags into their closet before walking into their en suite.

"Ok, I'm gonna take a shower, but I'll call you later. Love you, bye," She could say she loved whoever was on the phone, but not him? He felt like he couldn't breathe. This was his worst nightmare come to life. Not only was she leaving him, but she was leaving to be with another man. Not on Sunghoon's watch. He sat in their chair by the window as the shower turned on. He was patient, as she showered, doing his best to stay calm. Their room was dark by the time she exited the bathroom. She hadn't noticed him, and he made no plans to make her aware of his presence yet. Her towel hit the floor, and he felt a twitch in his pants as he watched her lather herself in lotion. A dark grin spread across his face as the scent of her lotion filled the air.

"You smell good, Love," She screamed, spinning around quickly to face her husband.

"Sunghoon, what the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you scare me like that? And why are you in the dark?" She asked, walking over to turn a light on. When he didn't respond she stopped what she was doing to look at him. She couldn't quite place the expression on his face, but she knew he wasn't happy despite his grin.

"...You alright?"

"Come here," There was something about the look in his eyes that was freaking her out. But she did as told, sitting her nude ass on his lap. He gripped her chin softly, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"Is there something you're not telling me, Wife?" He didn't miss the way her brows raised as she gulped nervously.

"I-I don't think so,"

"No? You sure about that? You've been acting different lately," His voice was so low and sexy and calm, she almost told him everything.

"I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm going to bed-" She was silenced by his hand around her throat.

"You tired? I'm sure you must be exhausted, right? From cleaning?" She nodded wordlessly.

"Ok baby. I'll let you get some sleep. But first I'm gonna fuck you until you scream." He said quite matter of factly.

"N-not tonight, Sunghoon. I'm ovulating, and you know it gives me cramps so...." Sunghoon couldn't believe his fucking ears.

"Fine. Then I'll just eat my sweet little cunt, and that'll be it." She started to protest, but was stopped when Sunghoon threw her on the bed and ripped his shirt off.

He pushed her legs open roughly before settling in between them. His lips found her throat, sucking hickies all over for everyone to see. He could feel her fingers instinctively tangle in his hair as she arched, her tits pressing into him. He kissed down her chest, sucking her right nipple into his mouth while his fingers toyed with the left one. She moaned as he bit her hard little nubs, wondering why he was being so rough. He switched nipples, giving the other the same harsh treatment. By the time he had moved on, her chest had several reddish purple flowers blooming across it. He kissed down her tummy, doing his best to keep his anger trapped down. But how could he when there was a possibility that another man had seen, had touched what belonged to him? Just the thought made him feel like beating his chest and screaming. Sunghoon was the direct opposite of gentle as he folded her knees to her chest, gruffly demanding she holds them there. When she was positioned to his liking, he allowed his eyes to gaze upon her pussy. He was doing his best to commit it to memory in case she really did try to leave him. He'd always have their sex tapes, but being here in the moment with her, he tried to memorize her smell, the way she felt as he placed soft kisses on her folds, her taste, something he knew he'd crave and yearn for forever. He dipped his head, tongue slipping slowly through her folds until it found her clit. He lapped at it slowly, wishing this moment could last forever. Her back arched in pleasure, her soft moans filling the air.

"Feel good, baby? Nobody can make you feel as good as I do. No one." He growled, fingers replacing his tongue and rubbing circles on her clit. Her only response was pushing her hips into his face, looking for more friction.

"No other man on this planet can do to you what I can. No one else knows exactly how to touch you, eat you, fuck you like I do. How to make you squirt, and beg, and cry because it feels so fucking good. Only me." He whispered, lips encompassing her clit once again. He sucked her deep and hard, teeth grazing her sensitive button in a way that made her legs shake.

Sunghoon wasn't lying, or saying this to stroke his own ego. He was saying it because it was the truth. He was her first and only sexual experience, and he had put time and effort into experimenting and learning all the things that she liked. They had spent a countless amount of hours in this very bed discovering new ways to pleasure each other, and the results led to them knowing exactly how to satisfy each other in ways no one else could. Like right now, as Sunghoon ate her out he knew if he sucked gentler but faster on her clit, and fucked her slow with his fingers, she'd squirt for him. But if he sucked hard on her clit, and flicked his tongue over her sensitive bud her orgasm would be a slow burn, leaving her empty minded and shaking. He opted for a mix of both, flicking his tongue over her clit as he sucked it gently, fingers sinking deep inside her. He could feel her beginning to tremble as his fingers curled up, massaging her engorged g-spot.

"Look at me, Wife. Watch me make you cum in my mouth." He pulled away for half a second to speak before latching back on, his dick twitching aggressively as he felt her clit pulsing and throbbing in his mouth.

She whined weakly before craning her neck to look down in between her legs. She was greeted by the sight of his full wet lips wrapped around her bud, his pink cheeks hollowing as he sucked. His eyes... his eyes. She felt like he was staring into her soul with his intense gaze, and as she started to crumble and cum in his mouth, she watched his eyes roll back in his head at her taste.

"Sunghoooon, oh shit. Feel s'good, baby. Feels so fucking good, please, baby," She gasped breathlessly as he licked her through her climax. When he was satisfied he sat back and watched her, as she stared at him with hungry eyes.

"Who else can make you cum as fast and as hard as me, Love? Who else knows your body better than you do? Answer me."

"No one, Hoon. Only you," For the first time in two weeks, he felt a bit of relief.

"Baby? Aren't you going to fuck me?" Her greedy little fingers rubbed his happy trail before tugging at his belt.

"You said not tonight. Don't you have cramps from ovulating?" He asked knowingly.

"Well, Google says having an orgasm might help my cramps, so I changed my mind." He raised a smug eyebrow before slowly unbuckling his belt while he spoke.

"You want me to fuck you? How should I do it, baby? What position... Tell Daddy how you want him," That crazed look in his eyes was making her soak the sheets.

"How-however you want me, Daddy," She was shaking in excitement and anticipation.

"Hmm... good answer. You're gonna suck my dick first. Real nasty, messy, just how I like it. Then I want you face down, ass up, so I can watch that ass bounce while I fuck you. Finish in missionary so I can kiss you and look into your eyes while you're creaming on my cock. Sound good?" Her curls bounced with the force of her nodding her head.

"Words, baby. I need you to be vocal with me tonight. Tell me you want this, want me. Tell me you need me." Her head tilted in confusion. He knew she needed him. He had to know. But she obliged anyway.

"I want you, Sunghoon. And you know I always need you," She caught a glimpse of something vulnerable in his eyes, but it was gone in a flash. She caught on quickly, realizing that for whatever reason he needed to feel loved and appreciated by her tonight. She was more than happy to do that.

She crawled to the edge of the bed, her fingers batting his out of the way as she tugged his jeans and boxers off in one swift move. She rubbed his chest as he kicked them off to the side. As she looked at him, his pale skin glowing enticingly under the lights, she almost couldn't keep her mouth shut. She bit her lip, doing her best not to ruin his surprise. She had been planning something special for him for their one year anniversary, and keeping it from him was killing her. She distracted herself by placing sweet kisses on his public bone.

"You're so fucking sexy. I love you, Hoon," She had been bursting at the seams wanting to tell him everything, but honestly she had been avoiding him for the past two weeks. She confided everything in him, and the only way she could think to not ruin her surprise was to just not talk to him at all. His dick drooled in response, his cherry red tip aching to be sucked.

"Yeah? You love me, Babe? Only me?" She was completely confused by this, but she indulged him as she always did.

"Only you, babe. You know that already, don't you? I could never even think about another man when I have my hands full with you," She grinned cheekily but it did little to comfort Sunghoon. How could she lie to him so easily? And with a smile on her face at that. It pissed him off completely, so instead of responding he leaned down and held her chin in his grip.

"Open," She did so immediately, smiling internally as he spit in her mouth. Before she could swallow his saliva, the head of his cock was pushing past her lips. She looked up at him with round, doe eyes and it made his mind race. Had another man been in his place? Watching her pretty eyes water as she took his length into her throat. Had someone else got to see the way her tits bounced when he gently began to thrust into her mouth. Sunghoon was losing his mind. He did his best to ignore the thoughts racing in his mind and focus on her.

She was sucking him just the way he liked, sloppy and wet. He groaned at the feeling of her gagging on his length when he pushed in too deep. And he thought maybe she kind of deserved it for making him hurt so bad, so he did it again. And again. And again until he was fucking her face rougher than ever, her head trapped as his strong hands gripped her curls. He was forcing her to take as much of his length as he could get in her mouth, her nose brushing his pelvis as he tugged her forward.

"Fuck. Love you so much. Sucking my dick so good, just how I taught you," She hummed a moan in answer, the feeling making him shiver. She was such a good girl for him, her fingers digging into his hips as she gagged and choked around him. He couldn't live without this, without her.

"You're mine, baby. All mine. Forever," She couldn't tell if he was saying that for her or to reassure himself. Either way, she doubled down in her efforts to please, her tongue sticking out to flick against his balls on each inward stroke. His heart ached as he watched her gag and spit and choke on him. She was so fucking beautiful to him. And she sucked his dick with so much love. It was the final straw for Sunghoon, his abs tightening as he inhaled a sharp breathe. His nose and brows scrunched in tandem, his orgasm causing him to shake.

"Ughhhhh fuuuuuckk!" He groaned loudly, head falling back on his shoulders. She swallowed as much as she could, the feeling of her throat contracting causing him to leak out a few more spurts. When he finished, he pulled out of her mouth, feeling guilty at the way she started coughing in the aftermath.

"I'm sorry, Love. I-I don't know what's wrong with me. Was I too rough?" She waved him off, wiping the spit off of her face.

"It's 'k. Fuck me now?" She asked, her hoarse voice turning him on. She crawled back in the bed, flipping to rest on her elbows and knees. The way she was dripping assured him that it really was OK, so he climbed up on the bed behind her, lining himself up with her entrance. He pushed in in one thrust, gasping at how good and tight she felt. One thing was for sure, if she was getting fucked by someone else they were nowhere near Sunghoon's size. He wished he could get out of his own head because the only thing he was doing was pissing himself off. She moaned, pushing her ass back into him impatiently. Sunghoon was glad she was ready, because with the way he was fuming there was no holding back. He gripped her hips tightly in his big hands, pulling all the way out of her before roughly thrusting all the way back in. She squealed in surprise at the feeling of his warm, hard member exiting her hole and forcing its way back in. He kept it at a teasingly slow yet hard pace, teasing her until neither one could take anymore. He could feel her clenching around him, trying to keep him from pulling all the way out again, so he leaned over her, resting on his fists as he gave her what she wanted. The sound of their bodies meeting filled the room, as he took his anger out on her. It was on the tip of his tongue to bring it up right now, while he was buried deep inside of her, both stripped down to the most vulnerable state possible. But he knew he wasn't in the best headspace to talk. Was he not the best husband that he could be? Did he not do his best to show her that he loved and adored her endlessly? He was angry that she was hurting him like this, angry that she was entertaining even just the thought of another man. Before he knew, he was giving himself away.

"I'm so fucking mad at you," She moaned desperately, her head spinning at the dizzying pace he was rutting into her at.

"W- why- oh, fuck- why are you a-angry? Did I do s- something, oh, shit please, Daddy," He grunted back in response.

"You know what you're fucking doing. I - fuck- I hate you," He growled. The way her ass was bouncing from him thrusting had him staring down with hearts in his eyes. What if this was his last time seeing her like this in person?

"Are we r- role playing and I don't know it or some-th-thing?" She asked, and the thought of her playing dumb and acting like she didn't have a clue what he was talking about made him see red.

"You know exactly what the fuck I'm talking about. Shit. So close. I hope I get you fucking pregnant, I fucking hate you,"

"Ooh, Sunghoon. You know I'm ovulating, and I can't find my birth control, stop fucking playing before you actually get me pregnant." That's exactly what his plan was.

"I hope I do. I hope I get you pregnant so you can never leave me, fuck. I'm gonna fill you up over and over again until I put my baby inside of you."

"You better fucking pull out," Even as she said the words, her back arched just a little further, wanting him to cum deep inside of her despite the risk.

"Nooo," He moaned. "Gonna cum inside you. Plant my seed in this fertile little pussy, and make a baby." His hips stuttered into her ass once, twice more before he was thrusting in deep and spilling. She gasped at the feeling of his cum pumping inside of her, feeling his drooling tip slobbering on her cervix. She ground back into his length, working him through his orgasm.

"Sunghoon! Oh, babe. You weren't supposed to cum inside me like that, we're not protected."

"So what? Who cares if we get pregnant now? Huh? You stay fucking still so my seed will take," That was it for her. She sat up and whipped around to look at him.

"Sunghoon, why are you being such a dick to me? You nearly suffocated me with your dick down my throat, you didn't even make me cum just now, and you came inside me knowing we aren't protected. What's wrong with you?!"

"I didn't know you didn't cum. Sorry," He grumbled looking away. Her angry face softened as she looked at him. She knew he was troubled by something, and she wanted to know why. She reached out a hand to cup his face, frowning when he pushed it away.

"Babe, what's going on? Tell me what's going through your head," He knew if he told her that he knew she was seeing another man, she'd immediately be done with him, and as pathetic as it made him feel he wasn't ready to let her go yet. Even if she was cheating on him. So he didn't respond, instead pushing her to lay on her back, burying his head in her hair as he entered her again. The familiar scent of coconut oil in her hair soothed him, as he did his best to hold it together. Her walls were wet with his orgasm, and highly sensitive because she had never reached hers. He was slow this time, sensual. He tried to relay to her what he couldn't say with words. She wrapped her arms around him, her fingers tugging at his hair until he was looking at her.

"Whatever is w-wrong, we'll fix it. Together," He shook his head, as he could feel his eyes starting to sting.

"I hate you... don't leave me," Sunghoon buried his face in her neck, not wanting her to see the tears gathering in his eyes as he fucked her. But it didn't matter, because a sob escaped his lips, his tears wetting her neck. His hips settled against hers, unmoving, as his emotions got the best of him, his body slumped against hers as he cried.

"Please. I love you. Don't leave me, wife," He croaked out, and even though he hated it, he tearily told her everything. How he had followed her to the café and saw her with that man. How he had seen said man gift her something, how she kissed his cheek. How he heard her talking about leaving while she packed her suitcases. She looked at him with soft eyes as she wiped the tears away from his red cheeks.

"Sunghoon. Why didn't you just talk to me, baby? You could have saved yourself a lot of heartache. The person that texted me this morning and the guy that I met at the café is my cousin." Shit, that's why he looked so familiar. Sunghoon was pretty sure he had met him at their wedding. "And the thing he gave me was a key. He has an apartment in Bali that he's letting us use for a week for our anniversary. I was trying to surprise you, that's why I've been so quiet. I knew if I kept talking to you I'd spill, because I tell you everything. Those bags I packed are for both of us, and when you eavesdropped, it was just me complaining to my mom about how much I hated keeping secrets from you." He was quiet as he tried to figure out what to say.

"...This is so fucking embarrassing."

"Yeah, kind of."

"Not helping,"

"I'm not trying to help. You deserve to feel embarassed for acting like a jerk instead of just talking to me," He groaned, hiding his blushing face in her neck.

" 'M sorry."

"Did you seriously think I'd cheat on you? That I could ever want anyone else but you, Sunghoon?" Sunghoon felt absolutely ridiculous.

"I don't know what I was thinking. I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry, Love,"

"And you made me ruin my surprise. You know what? Pull out, Sunghoon. Now."

"No, I'm sorry, Babe. Don't make me pull out," He groaned sadly.

"Pull out. You're gonna eat me out until I forgive you," He perked up at that.

"Oh....ok, Wife. I'll eat- mmm, fuck- I'll eat you out until you forgive me." He moaned as he pulled out. He trailed kisses from her neck to her pubic bone, finally feeling like he could breathe again. A weight was lifted off his shoulders, and as he looked up at her from between her thighs he felt so much relief. He dipped his head low, wetting his lips with her essence and began his 'punishment'.

His head had been buried in her pussy for at least an hour, she'd lost track of how many orgasms she had and Sunghoon was showing no signs of slowing down. His nails were digging into her ass, creating little crescent indentations, but he was so far gone at this point that he didn't even notice. His eyes fluttered shut, brows furrowed in concentration. She wondered how long it'd been since he stopped for air as she took in his red cheeks. His mouth worked wonders on her. His lips felt so soft as they tugged and kissed on her puffy lips. His tongue was so warm, and she could feel every ridge and bump on it as he buried it as deep as it would go inside her hole. His nose brushed against her sensitive clit, causing her to whimper out a shaky moan. Something about that moan triggered Sunghoon, and he went from fucking her with his tongue to latching onto her clit. He sucked roughly around it, groaning to himself. As she felt his lips vibrate around her nub, her back arched and she released in his mouth for the millionth time. Her hands had trailed up to her breast, rubbing and pinching her nipples as she trembled under him. Her hole clenched tightly, desperately wishing she had orgasmed with him inside of her.

"Tastes so good, Baby. You forgive me yet?" As she looked down in between her legs at his face, she knew she couldn't wait any longer to have him in her again. His eyes were dazed, so drunk from devouring her pussy, and so in love with her. His nose, lips, cheeks, and chin were dripping with her juices. His lips were slightly swollen and pink, parted open as he gently gasped for air.

"No. Come lay down," He listened, laying flat on his back as she straddled him.

She kissed him roughly, desperate at the feeling of his hard member against her. Eating her out obviously turned Sunghoon on, and at this point he was so hard it hurt. So when she started grinding against his length teasingly, his hands flew to her hips to hold her still. But she was having none of it.

"I didn't say you could touch me. Move your hands," He did so albeit begrudgingly.

"Listen, Husband. You want me to forgive you, don't you?" She whispered seductively against his lips as she ground her cunt down into his dick.

"Yes," He whimpered.

"Then you're gonna be a good boy for me, and do everything I tell you to do. Aren't you?" Sunghoon could feel his tip leaking onto his abs.

"Y-yes, " The grin on her face was nothing short of wicked.

"Say it,"

"I'm gonna be a go-good boy for you," She rewarded him another kiss before she reached down, taking his dick into her hands and slowly sliding down onto him.

She grabbed his wrist in her small hands and brought them above his head, pinning him to the bed. She knew the power she was exerting was just an illusion, he was so much stronger than her, but he was so desperate for her forgiveness that he'd let her do whatever she wanted to him. As her pussy settled ontop of him, that evil glint in her eyes grew.

"You're gonna wait until I give you permission to cum. Understand?" He bit his lip, wishing so bad he could flip her over and fuck her until she cried.

"Yes, Love," That was all she needed to hear to begin her torture. She pressed her lips to his, kissing him in a way that made him feel sickly in love. And as sweet as her kiss was, the way she clenched her tight juicy cunt around him completely surprised him.

"Oh, fuck," He whispered against her lips. She tensed around him again, her hips beginning to gently rock into him. Again and again, teasing him until he was dizzy at the feeling of her walls sucking him.

She waited until his eyes squeezed closed before she went from gentle rocking to bouncing harshly in his lap. Her juices were raining down on his thighs, soaking him in her ecstasy. She rode up and down his length, hips grinding into his, as she hovered over him. After eating her through multiple orgasms, Sunghoon was so painfully hard that this was absolute torment. She could feel his dick repeatedly twitching within her, practically begging her to let him cum.

"Mmm I bet my pussy feels so good after eating me out for so long doesn't it? I bet you wanna cum inside of me so bad, Baby." He gritted his teeth so hard, jaw clenching tight.

"I can feel your head twitching inside of me. It feels so good. The way your dick curves to hit my g-spot so perfectly. Like we were made for each other. Gonna make me cum, Daddy," She moaned. She let go of one of his wrists, wrapping her hand around his throat.

"Touch me, Hoon? Rub my clit so I can cum on your cock,"

"What do good girls say?" He couldn't help himself.

"Please, Daddy?" His free hand squeezed between their bodies to touch her. As his thumb rubbed slow, hard figure eights onto her aching button, he tried not to think about how badly he needed to cum. Which was nearly impossible because she was riding him, and choking him, and her pussy was so wet, and fuck, this was the best and the worst punishment he had ever had to endure.

"Feels s-so... I...I can't," He stuttered. It only spurred her on. The thought of riding her husband until he was so fucked out and dumb he could barely form a sentence turned her on to no end. With that thought in mind she switched from riding him on her knees to her feet, tip toeing so she could ride him all the way to the tip. His abs contracted wildly as he tried to hold it back.

"Fucking me so good. Fucking me so good," He repeated. She was fucking him just how he liked, and he couldn't take it anymore as he watched her tits bounce with the force of her riding.

"Please let me cum, please? I'll never do this again, I promise. I can't fucking hold it anymore..." His entire body was trembling at this point. He looked down to watch her cunt swallow him up, her milky arousal leaking everywhere.

"I'm gonna fucking cum. You gonna be a good boy and cum with me, baby?"

"Yes, please," He begged breathlessly. "Gonna be your good boy and cum for you,"

His jaw dropped as he felt her walls suddenly clench tight around him as she orgasmed.

"Cummingggg. Cum with me," She whined. She crumbled in his lap, falling onto her knees as her hips bucked uncontrollably. He could feel her squirting all over his groin and abs, a loud squeal echoing in the room. Sunghoon took control, bucking his hips and fucking into her from below. His eyes rolled back in his head as he finally reached his release with her permission. His vision blurred as the tingling sensation spread throughout his body. He choked out a pathetic sob of pleasure, as her pulsing cunt guzzled each spurt of his orgasm.

"Sunghoon. Breathe, baby. Breathe through it," He sucked in a huge breath, so engrossed in his orgasm that he hadn't even realized he was holding his breathe. The tip of his dick was throbbing, so sensitive it almost hurt as it spit his seed into her cervix. He held her tight against him as his dick spasmed and ached and gushed within her tight hole.

"Fuck...fuck....ugh...fuck," He muttered to himself. His body slumped weakly into the bed in the aftermath of his orgasm. He looked up at her, thoroughly satiated, as she ran her hands up and down from his chest to his abs. He gave a quiet moan, eyes resting shut as she massaged him, finally at peace.

"Do you think..... I would ever.... be interested in another man.... when I've got you fucking me like this?" She panted.

"No," He replied.

"Aren't I a good wife to you? Don't I make you feel loved, and respected, and cared for? Don't I tell you how you're my soulmate? My best friend? My forever?" She was ready to talk now that they had fucked their anger out.

"Yes. You do. I'm sorry for thinking you'd ever cheat on me. I know I should've just talked to you, but I was afraid if I brought it up you'd say you wanted us to separate or something."

"We're best friends, Hoonie. You can talk to me about anything. You know that. And I know I was acting kind of different, but I promise you it was only because I was afraid I'd spoil the surprise. I'm sorry I made you feel like there might have been something else going on. But you have to know, Love, you're it for me. You've ruined me completely. I'll never want any other man for the rest of my life. Only you." He pulled her into a kiss, unable to stop the wide grin spreading across his face.

"Damn, you're down bad for me, huh?"

"Shut the fuck up, Sunghoon," He laughed against her lips, his heart feeling lighter than it had been in weeks.

"I love you, Wife."

"I love you more, Husband. And just for the sake of getting everything off of our chests, is there anything else on your mind, my love?"

"Uh.... Actually yes. About those missing birth control pills...."

To be continued...

ONE KISS 𐙚 PARK SUNGHOON

(teaser!) 𐙚 .ᐟ ──── release date : april 28th (playlist)

(taglist) ────

IN WHICH.. Being a grumpy high school student who fell in love with a Playboy wasn’t a bad idea right? wrong. Who knew that the park sunghoon who did everything to win your heart would break it into pieces? Guess you’ll have to leave and forget about him.

BUT WITH YOUR LUCK.. of course, he ends up in your college trying to win the heart he broke, back.

“I would make out with you right now but I wouldn't wanna make your boyfriend insecure” Sunghoon tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear while making eye contact with Jay, your guy best friend who has an obvious crush on you.

“Oh please, it's time to give up Park” Sunghoon pouted a bit, why are you so loyal to this Jay guy? Sunghoon could treat you so much better.

“Ahh, c'mon, one kiss?” Sunghoon grinning at you while still holding your face, coloring your cheeks a slight shade of pink. Park Sunghoon, a typical cocky rich kid who always gets what he wants.

Your relationship with Sunghoon is complicated, Sunghoon will be all over you and shower you with gifts and affection but ruin it with his cocky personality and your past with him.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

“Hoon..? Whats wrong?”

Sunghoon has been different lately, he never hugged you anymore nor even acknowledged you as his girlfriend. It’ll just be him arriving home, dropping his bag, and the two of you sleeping facing away from each other.

“H-hoon..?”

Sunghoon not answering you made you worried, but Sunghoon just grabbed a bag of his and left your shared apartment.

From that day, Sunghoon blocked you on all socials and completely wiped himself away from your life.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

And for some reason, now he's in your college trying to win your heart that he broke, back. He gave you snacks, designer bags, affection, and lastly, he won't leave you alone.

It was weird, he just popped into your life again and acted as if nothing happened, you wanted to smack Sunghoons pretty face so badly.

“Don’t make me smack your face, Park.”

“Please do, I’d enjoy that.”

“Ugh! Can’t you just leave me alone”

As Sunghoon sarcastically puts a finger on his chin, acting like he was thinking, he bends down to your height before holding your chin while grinning.

“Nope.”

“I wish I had a shotgun right now.” you say while moving your teeth against each other.

“That’s hot, gotta bounce babe see ya”

“Fuck you!” yelling at Sunghoon walking away.

►DANCING WITH THE DEVIL #004: FINALE [Sunghoon.]

Parts ‣ #001 | ‣ #002 | ‣ #003 | ‣ #004: Prelude | ‣ #004: Finale

Abstract: Eight years have passed since you betrayed Park Sunghoon, leaving his fate shrouded in uncertainty. You thought you'd left that world behind, but the serial killings in the capital city —which bore a haunting resemblance to that in your past—pulled you right back into the shadows you once escaped. What began as a quest to prove your worth soon unraveled into something far more sinister: a labyrinthine network of power, deceit, and danger hidden beneath a veneer of opulence.Now, amidst the grandeur of a castle steeped in blood-soaked tradition, you find yourself, once again, entangled with Sunghoon—a ghost from your past whose motives remain as inscrutable as ever. The stakes are now higher, the games deadlier, and survival feels like chasing a mirage. As you navigate a web of twisted rituals and deadly alliances, the tension between you and Sunghoon ignites once again.But this time, the game is different. With whispers of betrayal and lingering wounds threatening to consume you both, you must decide if trust is a risk worth taking—because in doing so, you are not just exposing the truths they've hidden, but also the feelings you’ve fought so hard to suppress and bury.

Parts ‣ #001 | ‣ #002 | ‣ #003 | ‣ #004: Prelude | ‣ #004: Finale

Genre: vampire!sunghoon | horror | thriller | fantasy | romance (or is it? 😋)||| wc: ~13.2k

Featuring: Anton from Riize. [ PSA! ] There's also a Jaeyun here -- this is actually Enhypen Jake lol. Soz, no one fits the role that Jaeyun has in here better than Dark Blood Jake so I plead you guys to just go along and imagine that the Jake in Part 1-3 and Jaeyun in this Part are two different people ((who happen to look alike)) HAHAH

Warnings: blood; violence; injuries (some are self-inflicted); suggestiveness (some are forced); mentions of crimes (missing persons, murder, serial killings); manipulation; toxicity; trauma.

A/N: because Part 4 is too long, I had to split it into two parts and this is the 2nd part, the Finale. So if you're new to Part 4, please start with the Prelude first if you haven't :>

— xi

The gates groaned open, their rusted hinges echoing like a death knell through the oppressive stillness. Beyond them, the maze stretched into darkness, its towering hedges jagged and irregular, as if the structure itself had grown wild and angry over centuries. You stood among the others at the entrance, the flickering torchlight casting distorted shadows across their pale faces. Fear lingered in the air, clinging like smoke.

The host’s voice rang out, its unnerving cheer slicing through the tension. “Thirty minutes!” he announced. “That’s the grace period you’ve earned, dear victors. Thirty minutes to navigate the maze and claim your freedom. Once the thirty minutes is up, your claimants will descend and should you get captured then your fate is sealed in blood and eternity."

The sharp crack of a gunshot shattered the night, and chaos erupted. Humans surged forward like a desperate tide, plunging into the maze’s gaping maw.

It didn’t take long for the maze to reveal its true nature.

Branches lunged like claws, snagging at clothes and tearing through skin. You flinched as a woman ahead of you stumbled, her sleeve caught and shredded. Blood welled from her arm, the crimson stark against her pale skin. A man further ahead tripped, his cry piercing as a hidden root twisted around his ankle, sending him sprawling. His hand scraped against a jagged stone, a deep gash splitting his palm.

“It’s a... trap,” you muttered under your breath, the pieces clicking into place. Every twisted path seemed designed to injure, every branch poised to tear flesh. Every movement, every stumble left behind the scent of blood, marking them like a beacon. The maze wasn’t a challenge; it was a slaughterhouse, designed to render them helpless before the hunt even began.

You glanced back toward the castle, your breath catching as you spotted the vampires in the Grand Hall beyond the glass-paneled windows. Warm light spilled out, casting golden reflections on the darkened grounds. They lounged at long tables, wine glasses glinting in their hands as they laughed and gestured. It wasn’t chaos to them; it was entertainment. A grotesque theater of blood and desperation, framed perfectly for their amusement.

Resolve hardened in your chest. You weren’t going to play their game.

Turning sharply, you broke away from the panicked crowd and ran back toward the castle. The thought struck you with chilling clarity as your feet pounded against the ground: the staff had been dismissed, the mortals were in the maze. The castle wasn’t just the safest place to escape the hunt—it was the perfect trap as inside those walls, only vampires remained.

There was no way you would let the maze tear you apart piece by piece. If they wanted a game, you’d give them one on your own terms. And so with bold and calculated steps, you headed back, but instead of the Grand Hall where vampires lounged with glasses of wine in hand, reveling in their twisted theater of blood and desperation, you headed deeper—to the cellar you’d stumbled upon yesterday while frantically searching for a first-aid kit after finding Sunghoon bloodied at the foot of your bed.

Back then, you hadn’t paid much attention—your mind consumed with stopping the bleeding. But the sight had lingered: towering racks of bottles and colossal barrels stacked like monoliths. Most importantly, you recalled how the cellar was situated directly beneath the Grand Hall—a precarious foundation for a room already weathered by centuries. Its position alone made it a powder keg waiting for a spark.

Now, as you descended the spiral staircase once more, your steps were deliberate, your breaths steady. The cellar stretched before you, even larger than you’d remembered. Rows of barrels lined the space, their labels faded but still legible in the dim light: port, sherry, even brandy. The air was thick, carrying the faint tang of aged wine and the sharper bite of spirits—a volatile combination.

You moved quickly, tipping barrels one by one. Thick liquid gushed out, pooling across the stone floor in a growing lake. As the pungent scent of wine filled the air, an idea struck you: a trail. The fire couldn’t stay confined to the cellar—it needed to climb, to reach the vampires in their gilded cage above.

Grabbing an uncorked bottle from the shelves, you dipped it into the pooling wine and began creating a path. The liquid splashed as you worked, leaving a continuous, glistening line up the stairs and toward the hall’s entrance. When the first bottle ran dry, you spotted a smaller cask labeled lamp oil. Without hesitation, you tipped it into the mix, thickening the trail. Your hands moved with precision, painting a path meant to spark chaos.

At the top of the staircase, you paused, heart pounding. The torchlight flickered in your grip as you surveyed your work. The lake of wine and spirits in the cellar. The trail snaking upward. The puddle pooling at the hall’s threshold. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. You recalled overhearing a maid speaking about the Grand Hall—its ancient foundations riddled with cracks and shored up by makeshift supports. If any place in the castle would collapse under fire, it was here.

But, as your surveyed the trail you'd left, you knew it wasn’t enough. You needed chaos. You needed to bait them. You need to cover all the loopholes. Maximise the impact.

So you swiftly reached for the dagger concealed in your garter belt, your eyes darting for a spot to make the sacrifice. Your forearm. Without hesitation, you pressed the blade against your skin, slicing deeper than ever before—this time, you needed more. A sharp sting shot through you, making your breath hitch, but you didn’t falter. Blood welled instantly, warm and vivid, tracing the edge of the wound like liquid fire. With hurried yet deliberate steps, you smeared your blood on the walls leading down to the cellar.

All your near-death interactions with vampires teaches you one important thing: they do not think when it comes to fresh blood when desperation hits.They are creatures of impulse and in the desperation stoked by an inferno—yet another exploitable weakness—the smoke and heat would confuse their senses, leaving the scent of fresh blood as their only compass. Thus, just like how the maze was meant to draw blood—you’d turned their weapon against them, your blood would lead them straight to the hottest part of the castle.  

Once you decided blood had strategically been spread enough in certain key locations, you wrapped a torn fabric from your gown tightly—trying to staunch the bleeding before you set your plan in motion.

Your torch flickered ominously, its light casting jagged shadows across the stone walls. It was time.

Crouching low, you ignited the flammable trail at the midpoint of the staircase. Immediately, flames surged to life, spreading upward and downward with terrifying speed. The fire roared as it consumed the path you’d created, its glow painting the narrow corridor in hues of gold and crimson.

You didn’t wait to see the inferno take hold. Spinning on your heel, you darted into a nearby passage—a maid’s shortcut you had overheard during your time wandering the castle. The narrow corridor was damp, the air thick with mildew, but it offered a chance to slip past the chaos you’d unleashed.

When you emerged, the familiar Eastern end of the Corridors of Treachery loomed before you, its twisting halls stretching endlessly into shadow. But this time, you didn’t falter. One last thing, you thought, your steps confident and resolute as you opened a door—the Library.

This was your next target.

The blaze below would cripple them, but the knowledge contained in this room—the ancient texts, the records of their lineage and power—it needed to be destroyed. If the castle was to fall, their legacy must, too, for every words here were like poison, waiting to be unleashed by the next power-hungry bloodsucker.

Your steps were steady as you made your way to the shelves, already knowing where to go. The Obsidian Testament waited for you in its usual place, its ominous presence untouched even amidst the growing chaos. The moonlight spilled through the tall windows, catching the hidden coat of arms engraved on its cover—a silent reminder of Sunghoon’s bloodline, regal and intricate, yet tainted by the weight of its history.

Without hesitation, you lit the edge of the book, watching as the flames began their ravenous work. The coat of arms—so proud, so immovable—gradually crumbled under the heat. You hurled it onto a growing pile of texts, the fire spreading hungrily across the brittle pages.

Let it all burn.

“I knew it was you—" a voice pierced through the sound of crackling flames and the ominous groan of weakening wood.

Jaeyun.

He strode forward with a deliberate, menacing pace, his hand sweeping back his golden hair in a single, frustrated motion. The movement exposed his sharp, angular features. Gone was the mischievous grin that had once softened him, replaced by a cold, predatory expression that turned his beauty into something terrifying.

“I was going to grant you an escape and this—" he roared, “is how you repay me?!”

“As if,” you spat scornfully, “I saw the layout of the maze the other day from the tower–it’s a labyrinth, all towering hedges and twisting paths. No flowers, no statues, no space for anything but confusion. So the moment you told me of statues as the hint for escape, I knew you were trying to bait me."

He scoffed, dragging his sword behind him, the blade scraping against the ground with a grating hiss. The nearby flames cast flickering shadows across his face, making his sneer all the more menacing, “I get it now. You chose me exactly because you needed me here. If you had chosen Sunghoon, you knew I’d left the castle and gone after you–"

You stepped back instinctively, his sneer slowly twisting, faltering into a grimace that betrayed the quiet fury simmering beneath the surface. “You chose me,” he continued, each word dripping with venom, “to trick him. To let him escape this carnage you’ve been planning.”

He didn’t flinch as burnt books tumbled from the crumbling shelves, landing in smouldering heaps around him. His grimace deepened, a bitter edge curling his lips. “How disgustingly cliché.”

“You read too much fairytales.” you hissed, your voice cutting through the crackling of the flames. “I chose you because I knew what a narcissistic, overconfident, manipulative prick you are. I knew you’d let your guard down the moment your name is picked and that is all I needed to take this whole place down. To take the rot down.”

The taunt landed like a strike, and Jaeyun lunged. His speed was startling, and before you could react, your back slammed against a nearby wall. The impact forced the breath from your lungs, your body pinned as his eyes—blazing with a fury to match the fire—bore into yours.

Fuck, you thought, the heat pressing against your skin, the air growing heavier with smoke. At this rate, even you might not escape the fire.

But you’d banked on this. Vampires were slaves to their emotions when pushed to the brink. Jaeyun could have fled. He could have saved himself. Instead, here he was, his rage blinding him to the inferno that threatened to consume them both.

“I can still reap you now,” he snarled, his fangs elongating to their full, menacing length. “You’d be my 100th you know. Two cycles of reaping, countless bodies left in my wake, and still standing. Do you think your little bonfire will end me? Pray harder.”

His hand tightened around your throat, pressing you harder against the wall. The pressure wasn’t just threatening—it was exactly what you needed. His body leaned closer, his focus narrowed to you and his fury. This was the calculated risk you’d taken: baiting him to lose control, to get close enough for you to finish this. And he had proven you right.

You could have fled, but you hadn’t. You’d gambled on his inability to walk away from the stage you’d set ablaze. Jaeyun, the cunning puppeteer, wouldn’t let his masterpiece burn without trying to stop it. His pride wouldn’t allow it. And now, blinded by anger, he failed to notice the flames inching closer, the smoke curling around his form.

“Big talk,” you rasped, your voice steady beneath his crushing grip. “And yet… you’ve already lost.”

His eyes narrowed, a flicker of confusion cutting through the storm of rage. For a split second, his body tensed—but then his gaze dropped.

There, plunged deep into his abdomen, was your dagger. The blade caught the firelight, its hilt adorned with a small charm bearing Sunghoon’s crest. The ruby glinted wickedly, its light reflecting the chaos of the flames around you.

Jaeyun’s grip faltered, his hand loosening slightly as blood, dark and thick, bloomed through his shirt, and you didn’t hesitate. Summoning every ounce of strength you had left, you shoved him off, wrenching the blade free as you bolted out of the library. The flames roared louder now, licking hungrily at the walls, their heat pressing against your back.

But you didn’t make it far. A force barrelled into you, slamming you to the ground with a weight that knocked the air from your lungs.

“Fucking get off me—” you gasped, twisting under his grip.

Jaeyun was on top of you, pinning you with an iron hold. His nails had elongated into claws, sharp and gleaming in the firelight. He pressed them against your neck, just enough to draw thin lines of blood.

“Look at you—squirming like a wounded rabbit. How adorable,” he murmured, his voice soft but dripping with cruel amusement. His weight crushed you against the stone floor, unforgiving and cold beneath you. He forced your head to an unnatural angle, his claws digging deeper, anchoring you helplessly in place.

"Haven't you heard? struggling makes the blood sweeter," he drawled, his head dipping into the crook of your neck, his breathing hot and heavy, "so go ahead—struggle all you want, you are just sweetening my feast."

His tongue dragged across the cut he’d made, slow and deliberate, a mocking gesture that sent a shiver of revulsion down your spine. “Ah,” he exhaled sharply, shuddering in such a revolting way, “there it is—so much sweeter when you fight.” The words dripped from his lips like venom, each syllable a mockery of your helplessness. He lingered, the softness of his lips a deliberate contrast to the sharp sting of his claws. It was as if he was deliberately prolonging the act to rattle you—to cut where it hurts the most: your autonomy and dignity.

“Do you think he tasted you like this?” he whispered, his lips brushing the edge of the wound in deliberate malice and intimacy, relishing in your revulsion and savouring the power he held over you and every flicker of your discomfort. “Or is this my privilege alone?”

He chuckled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin. “I wonder…” he murmured, his voice curling with mock tenderness, “does he know how much sweeter you become when you squirm?” His claws pressed harder, the sharp sting blossoming into pain, his next words cutting deeper than his nails ever could. “Or is that just for me too?”

The sharpness of his teeth grazed your neck, far too close, far too sharp—sharper than you remembered Sunghoon’s ever being. Your breath hitched, panic clawing at the edges of your mind, the firelight around you seeming to flicker with your racing pulse. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable—

But then instead of pain. You felt the weight lifted.

A rush of air and heat overwhelmed you as Jaeyun was torn away. Your body trembled, the world tilting for a moment. When you clambered back to your feet, you saw them—two figures clashing across the corridor, their movements a blur amidst glowing embers and smoke-choked air.

Sunghoon and Jaeyun.

The firelight cast jagged shadows across the walls, illuminating the ferocity of their battle.

Sunghoon’s strikes were calculated, but desperation bled into each swing of his blade—precise yet strained. His strength, though formidable, seemed frayed at the edges, each swing costing him more than the last. As he stepped closer to the firelight, you saw it clearly: the cuts marring his face and the dark smudges of ash clinging to his disheveled clothing. He must’ve faced other vampires on his way here, you thought.

In contrast, Jaeyun moved with unnerving ease, his blows quick and unrelenting, each one a chilling display of power. The oppressive heat and smoke clawed at the air, suffocating and disorienting, but Jaeyun seemed untouched—his strength unfaltering, a cruel testament to the reaping cycles that had forged him into something far beyond human, even vampiric.

“You came just in time, Romeo.” Jaeyun sneered, sidestepping a blow with maddening grace. "Did you see how perfectly she fits in my hand?" he taunted as he swung his blade, forcing Sunghoon back, "ah—and her taste. Her warm skin. The way she shivered. You know, if you hadn't interrupted, I’d have heard her make that sound again. You know the one—soft, breathless, perfect."

It was revolting to hear him say those filthy words but at that moment your dignity took a backseat for all you could think of was Sunghoon. As if Jaeyun knew exactly how to play with someone's mind, Sunghoon’s strikes came faster, heavier—but clumsier. Fury bled into every swing, the precision of his usual attacks dulled by anger. Then their swords met with a thunderous crash, the force sending sparks flying as both pressed forward, neither giving ground. Sunghoon’s chest heaved, his labored breaths a stark contrast to Jaeyun’s unnerving composure, his taunting smirk growing wider.

Jaeyun continued, his voice dripping with cruel amusement, “but I guess you wouldn’t know, would you? She has never let you touch her like that, has she?” His grin sharpened, his next words a venomous whisper. “Not the way she let me, at least.”

Sunghoon charged again, his blows landing harder than before, but Jaeyun danced out of reach, his blade glinting in the firelight, "—because she will never accept you the way you are Sunghoon," his voice was laced with mock pity, "you're just another bloodthirsty beast."

Then, with a sudden shift, Jaeyun lunged, forcing Sunghoon back with a flurry of heavy strikes. “You should’ve stopped pretending to be noble and reaped her,” he hissed, his blows driving Sunghoon toward the corner. “That’s the only way you’ll ever have her.” His grin twisted into something darker as he leaned closer, delivering the final barb. “And maybe—just maybe—it would’ve brought back the strength you used to have because this…” Jaeyun’s blade pressed closer, his eyes gleaming with disdain. “—is just pathetic.”

You swallowed thickly for the odds doesn't seem to stack up for Sunghoon. Your body reacted instinctively to go after him, but his gaze stopped you cold. The sharp jerk of his head said it all: Run.

But you couldn’t.

Then their blades clashed again, the sharp ring echoing through the suffocating heat. Sunghoon’s strikes, though deliberate, were slower now, his movements burdened by the corner he’d been forced into. The stone wall pressed against his back, leaving him little room to manoeuver. Yet even there, with Jaeyun bearing down on him, his defiance burned brighter.

“You can amass all the power and influence you want,” Sunghoon said through gritted teeth, his blade locking with Jaeyun’s in a deadly stalemate. His voice was low but cutting, his eyes blazing with quiet fury. “But you’ll never be able to claim something you’ve never had the right to.”

"The blood you take," Sunghoon shoved him back with a surge of strength, their blades separating with a hiss of steel, "won't make yours anymore purer. It just taints you irreparably."

Jaeyun froze for the briefest moment as if the words had landed exactly where they were meant to. The smirk on his lips faltered, not gone but strained, like a mask beginning to crack.

"That is probably why," Sunghoon continued, his strikes growing sharper, each one cutting closer, "my very existence riles you so isn't it? even when I've never made any moves to challenge your house of cards?"

Jaeyun’s movements lost some of their calculated ease, his strikes heavier but less precise, each blow betraying his frustration. The tables had turned and now it was Jaeyun’s turn to be riled up, his composure unraveling with every word.

Sensing the shift, Sunghoon adjusted his stance, lowering his weight in anticipation. Jaeyun lunged, his overconfidence driving him forward—but Sunghoon was ready. With a blur of motion, he pivoted sharply, driving his shoulder into Jaeyun’s chest with brutal force. The impact sent Jaeyun sprawling backward, skidding across the debris-strewn floor until he collided with a broken pillar.

Sunghoon didn’t hesitate. Before Jaeyun could recover, he closed the distance with unrelenting precision, dropping to one knee and driving his blade into Jaeyun’s exposed abdomen. The force of the strike pinned Jaeyun to the ground, his body jerking under the weight of the blow. Blood bloomed instantly, dark and thick, pooling across the cracked stone beneath them. Jaeyun hissed, his hands clawing at the blade embedded in his torso. For a moment, it seemed as though Sunghoon had won. You held your breath, hope flickering to life.

Then, Jaeyun’s lips curled into a bloodied smirk. “You're nowhere enough,” he rasped, his voice laced with venom, “—of a challenge Sunghoon.”

It was only then you noticed it—Jaeyun’s own blade, slick with Sunghoon’s blood, had been driven deep into his flank. You hadn’t seen the strike. Neither had Sunghoon. But there it was, protruding cruelly through his abdomen, crimson spreading across his shirt like spilled ink.

“Sunghoon!” The name tore from your lips, sharp and raw. You stepped forward instinctively, but before you could reach him, the ceiling above groaned ominously. A massive chunk of debris collapsed, slamming into the ground between you and them.

The impact sent you stumbling back, coughing as a thick cloud of smoke and dust billowed around you. “No—” you rasped, your voice cracking as you strained to see through the haze.

Sunghoon gritted his teeth, his knuckles tightening on his blade, though he didn’t withdraw. Nor did he stagger nor falter. Instead, he shifted his weight forward, his strength bearing down on the blade, every ounce of effort ensuring Jaeyun couldn’t push him off.

“You sure about that?” Sunghoon rasped, his voice hoarse and strained.

Jaeyun’s smirk twisted into confusion as his eyes darted down. Horror dawned as he saw Sunghoon’s blood streaming from his wound, dripping steadily onto the gaping injury in Jaeyun’s abdomen—the wound you had inflicted earlier. The reaction was instantaneous. Frost-like patterns spreading outward from the contact point, jagged and unrelenting, crystallising his torso and limbs, locking him in place. His claws scrambled at the stone floor, scraping against it in desperation as his body stiffened. His voice cracked, teetering on the edge of panic. “No-no—you—“

You recalled an excerpt from The Annals of Kings—a fleeting detail about how the blood of a Pureblood, though inert on the skin of another vampire, becomes lethal toxin when mingled with another’s wounds—an alchemical reaction born of their cursed lineage. And therein lay the tragedy: the blood they so revered—the symbol of their purity, power, and immortality—was also their undoing. The very essence that granted them supremacy over all others carried the seeds of their destruction, a cruel paradox embedded in their existence.

You realized then what Sunghoon had allowed Jaeyun to do. He hadn’t just been defending himself; he had turned his own wound into a weapon. Sunghoon had weaponized the very thing their kind held sacred, knowing it would be Jaeyun’s end—even as it left him vulnerable to his own impending collapse. In heaving, ragged breaths, Sunghoon rasped, “I only finished what she started—". His eyes met yours for a fleeting moment the weight of his gaze—the unspoken truth behind his sacrifice—struck you harder than any blow.

Jaeyun regurgitated, his body stiffening as the crystal consumed him entirely, his face locked in a mask of rage and terror. A sharp crack echoed through the hall as his crystalline form splintered, into ashen dust, swirling briefly in the fiery glow before dissipating into the suffocating smoke, vanishing as though he had never existed.

Sunghoon staggered back from the remains, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. His hands moved to the blade embedded in his flank, his fingers trembling as he gripped the hilt. With a sharp, agonized groan, he wrenched it free, the sound of metal against flesh almost drowned out by the crackling flames around him.

The moment the blade left his body, blood poured from the wound in thick, unrelenting streams. His face, already pale, lost what little colour it had left, the crimson staining his hands stark against his ashen skin. He swayed, his frame lurching unsteadily as though the weight of the air itself had become too much to bear.

And then he pitched forward, catching himself on trembling hands before he collapsed entirely. Blood dripped from his wound in heavy rivulets as his body sagged against the stone floor. For a moment, he seemed almost unrecognizable—so human in his fragility, so far from the invulnerable figure you had known.

You should have ran away then.

The exit was there, your path to freedom blazing clearly through the smoke and flames. You could have escaped—left behind the horrors that had haunted you, the chaos that had led you to this moment.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you ran toward him. Through the flames and falling debris, through the suffocating heat, you reached him. His weight sagged heavily against you as you tried to pull him upright, your arms straining with the effort.

His face was pale, slick with sweat, and streaked with soot. Blood continued to pour freely from his wound, dark and thick, in a way that was achingly human. His eyes, so often guarded and unreadable, now lay bare—soft and raw, stripped of all pretense.

“You’re stupid!” you choked out, your voice trembling as you pressed your hands against his wound, desperate to staunch the bleeding. “Why did you come back to the castle?”

“You’re the stupid one,” he rasped, a faint, ghostly smirk tugging at his cracked lips. “Why haven’t you run? I stalled long enough for you—”

“Shut up,” you snapped, panic lacing your words as you struggled to lift him again. His body was limp, heavier than you could manage alone, and he slumped back to his knees, his breathing shallow and laboured, each breath a fight.

He was worse off than the last time you’d patched him up—far worse—and the realization sent a jolt of fear through you. At this rate, neither of you would escape the flames. You’d both burn together in this crumbling castle.

“Perhaps,” he murmured, his voice barely audible now, “we’ve bantered long enough.”

His body pitched forward, and you caught him instinctively. His weight collapsed into your arms, his head coming to rest weakly in the nook of your shoulder. You felt the faint brush of his lips against your skin—soft, fleeting, and entirely unlike the possessive ferocity you’d known from him. His hand trembled as it moved to your back, curling with a weak insistence, a stark contrast to the vice-like grip he had on you just hours ago.

“I’m letting you go now, y/n,” he whispered, his words a quiet confession, laced with both sorrow and resolve. “This is the only way I could ever let you go.”

Your breath hitched. You knew what he meant, and you didn’t want that. Perhaps you never did.

“No,” you said, your voice trembling but firm, the weight of your conviction cutting through the chaos around you. Tears welled in your eyes, but they didn’t fall. Not yet.

Your hands moved with purpose, tearing the makeshift bandage from your arm. Blood pooled from the cut, rich and red, but you didn’t hesitate. “Take my blood, Sunghoon,” you demanded, thrusting your arm toward him. “Quickly. You need it—”

He shook his head weakly, his breaths shallow and uneven. “y/n, go,” he rasped, his voice barely audible above the roar of the flames. “We’re running out of time.”

“Damn it, Sunghoon!” you barked, desperation breaking through the cracks in your resolve. “You don’t get to tell me what to do—not now, not like this!”

His eyes, already losing focus, flickered with something—protest, perhaps, or regret. But you didn’t give him the chance. Before he could stop you, you brought your arm to your lips, the sharp metallic tang of blood filling your mouth. Without hesitation, you grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close, crushing your lips to his.

The transfer was immediate. You felt his body stiffen, his hand twitching weakly against your back in surprise. When you pulled away, his lips were stained crimson, his gaze dazed, unfocused.

“Is that enough?” you asked, your voice trembling. “it’s not right? take more.” You leaned closer, your breathing uneven as you tilted your head to the side. “Take it from my neck. That works best for you, doesn’t it?”

“y/n, stop—” he croaked, his voice fractured.

For a moment, you froze, your gaze locking onto his. The sight of him—so pale, so vulnerable, teetering on the edge of collapse—was unbearable, it was twisting your heart painfully. Frustration burned through you, hot and unrelenting.

“You’re making this hard,” you muttered under your breath, your voice shaking.

Before he could utter another word, you shifted upwards, wrapping your arms tightly over his shoulder, steadying him and angling yourself so that his face was close enough to your neck. “Bite me,” you whispered, your voice thick with both resolve and something far more raw. “I’ll let you.”

The hand he already had on your back shifted, his fingers curling faintly into the fabric of your gown, but it wasn’t a grip of possession, but one of desperation—as though he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, his other hand began to move. Trembling, hesitant, it brushed against your shoulder, its path uncertain, as though he feared you might flinch or pull away.

The roughness of his palm met the curve of your neck, his touch both gentle and weighted. His fingers curled there, delicate yet unyielding, cradling the nape of your neck as though it was something fragile, irreplaceable. Each movement was deliberate, almost reverent, as if he was memorizing the feel of your skin beneath his hand.

It wasn’t the possessive grip you’d known before. This was something far more tender, far more devastating. It was as though his very existence hung by a thread, and you were the only thing keeping him from unraveling completely.

“y/n. You don't understand. I’ve lost too much blood,” he murmured, his lips brushing featherlight against your neck. “I wouldn’t be able to stop—”

“I trust you,” you interrupted, your voice trembling but unyielding as you held him tighter. “I trust you, Sunghoon. I trust that you’ll take just enough to survive.”

His hold on you tightened as if trying to ground himself in the weight of your words. I trust you—the words hung between you, fragile yet immense. It was the very words he needed to hear all along; the very words you’ve fought so desperately not to feel, much less say.

Then, slowly, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours for something—reassurance, resolve. The firelight danced across his face, highlighting the shadows of exhaustion etched into his features. The vulnerability in his gaze was a blade cutting both ways, and you knew it would haunt you long after this moment passed.

“I trust you,” you repeated softly, your voice unwavering this time.

Above you, debris crashed to the floor, the flames roaring louder. The heat was suffocating, the air thick with smoke, but you didn’t move. Neither did he. Time was slipping away, but in this moment, it felt as though the world had narrowed to just the two of you.

His expression twisted, as though your words had broken something in him. Pain flickered across his face—not just physical, but something deeper, something that had been buried for far too long. His hand, trembling now, reached up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered there, gentle and deliberate, as if committing the feel of you to memory. Then his hand shifted, cradling the side of your neck. His thumb grazed your skin, reverent, unhurried, as though this was both a goodbye and a plea to stay.

“We’re always at odds, aren’t we?” he murmured softly, "I asked you to run but you stayed. I asked you to save yourself, but you're trying to save me instead."

You grinned bitterly, “always.”

For a moment, his gaze lingered, searching yours, before he dipped his head into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, almost hesitant. Then the sharp prickle of pain came—a fleeting sting as his fangs broke your skin—but it was eclipsed by the strange, disarming lull that followed.

His grip on you tightened, his body pressing closer, desperate and unyielding. You could feel the urgency in every movement, the hunger in every pull of his lips against your skin. It was overwhelming, the pull of his fangs relentless, like he was drawing not just blood but something far deeper—something he couldn’t bear to lose.

You should have been terrified. You should have fought back.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

Even as your vision blurred, as the edges of the world dissolved into the inferno raging around you, one truth anchored you to him:

You trusted him.

— xii

You woke with a jolt, a sharp gasp tearing through your chest as sterile, artificial air filled your lungs. The glaring white walls seemed to close in around you, their starkness more oppressive than calming. Fluorescent lights hummed faintly above, casting an antiseptic glow that made the space feel detached, clinical—eerily devoid of life.

Your gaze darted frantically across the room, your pulse racing with every detail that didn’t belong. There was no warmth here, no trace of familiarity. Just the suffocating stillness pressing down on you, as though the air itself had weight. For a terrifying moment, it felt like a void, a purgatory for fractured souls. Perhaps you were dead. After everything—the chaos, the blood, the flames—was this where it all ended?

A tremor passed through you, the memory of his voice, his face, flashing like a spark in the darkness. The desperation in his eyes. The warmth of his hand against yours, the fragile connection you clung to even as the world burned around you.

“Sunghoon?” The name slipped from your lips before you could stop it, trembling with hope and fear. It wasn’t just a question; it was a plea, a tether you threw into the void, praying it would hold. The sound of it shattered the oppressive silence, leaving a raw ache in its wake.

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, and pain flared like lightning through your body. Every nerve screamed in protest—your ribs, your limbs, even the faintest breath. “Sunghoon?” you called again, louder this time, the desperation cracking through your voice.

You forced yourself upright, your bare feet meeting the icy bite of the tile floor. Your legs wobbled beneath you, your strength slipping like sand through your fingers. The IV pole clattered to the ground as you collapsed, clutching the bedframe in a desperate bid for balance.

The sound shattered the room’s oppressive quiet and almost immediately the door swung open with a sharp creak. Your heart leapt, relief surging through your veins. “Sungho—”

But it wasn’t him.

“y/n!” Anton’s voice cut through the tension as he hurried to your side, his face etched with concern. He dropped to his knees beside you, steadying your trembling frame. “What are you doing? You’re still too weak. Lie back down!”

“Anton,” you rasped, your hands gripping his shirt tightly. “Where’s Sunghoon?”

“Sunghoo—?” He frowned, confused, before realization dawned. “Ah, Mr. Park? y/n, he left weeks ago. Don’t you remember? He was called back to his headquarters. Some urgent matters in Prague.”

You shook your head vehemently, your grip on him tightening. “No, that’s not right. He was with me. He—”

“y/n,” Anton said gently but firmly, helping you back onto the bed. “you’ve been unconscious for 2 weeks—your mind is probably still foggy especially given all you had to endure. Don’t you remember? We held a farewell lunch for him? You were there, muttering spiteful things under your breath when he delivered his farewell speech.”

You froze, staring at him in disbelief. “We didn’t,” you whispered hoarsely. “He was—” The words died in your throat. You clung to the fragments of memory that felt more like splinters now. “What about the people then? and the- the castle?”

Anton’s sat beside you, voice gentle, “the castle is gone, razed to the ground. Some people were found scattered across the compound, but all of them had hazy memories—smoke inhalation and trauma-induced amnesia, according to the doctors. No signs of foul play though. Just a gas leak in an old building. The fire spread too fast.”

“How about casualties?” you asked, your mind flashing to the vampires that should be stuck in the hall.

Anton shook his head. “None. Just scattered jewelry and strange clothing pieces found in the halls—probably left behind by looters after the fire started. Authorities have investigated it thoroughly though and nothing indicates foul play. Even the castle’s owner isn’t pressing charges or requesting further inquiry.”

“But Sungh- someone – someone must have been with me,” you pressed on, the words stumbling out.

“y/n,” Anton repeated, his voice more serious now, “no one was. You were alone in the glasshouse. The only one unconscious, in fact. They theorised, given the proximity, you must have spent a lot of time inside compared to others which is why you were unconscious. But point is—investigations had been done and foul play is ruled out. Everyone is safe.”

“Every..." you echoed, “—no. I think there were some who didn’t— do you have a list? the guests? the survivo—" your words faltered as your head spun, a sharp pang cutting through the fog of your thoughts. You groaned, swaying unsteadily. Anton was quick to catch you, steadying your trembling form as he guided you to lean back against the bed.

"y/n, stop—" he said, his tone full of concern. "Look, you've been unconscious for almost 2 weeks. You're not in the right state of mind yet. Let me get the doctor first, okay? don’t move.”

You barely registered his words as you stared up at the sterile ceiling, your mind racing with fragmented memories. Sunghoon. The flames. The battle. His bloodied body against yours. The way he’d looked at you in those final moments—his eyes full of something unspoken, something that clung to you even now.

Instinctively, your hand rose to your neck, brushing against the skin there—and froze. Faint but undeniable, you felt it: a mark. His bite mark.

Your breath hitched as the weight of it sank in. It was the confirmation you needed. That he was real. That your memories weren’t muddled or fabricated. That he had been there.

For a moment, a spark of relief lit in your chest. He’d been there. You hadn’t imagined him. The connection you clung to wasn’t some fever dream born of smoke and fear.

But as your fingers lingered over the faint indentations, that spark dimmed, flickering under the weight of a new truth.

Anton had said you’d been unconscious for two weeks. Two weeks. Two weeks is a long time for someone like him to stay away. Too long.

Suddenly, the silence felt unbearable—crushing in its emptiness, each second a reminder of all the truths his absence could mean. Each one as cruel as the next.

— xiii

A month had passed, and unlike before—when you could sense Sunghoon in the shadows, catch the faintest trace of his cologne lingering in the air, or swear you felt his touch as you brushed past strangers—he was utterly, completely gone.

His absence was deafening.

So you buried yourself in work, to drown out the silence that followed you everywhere and to lock the memories away. Perhaps if you don’t think about it, the ache would dull. Even better, fade entirely.  

Until one night.

You were reaching for something from the shelves in your bedroom when your elbow knocked a box off the shelf. It crashed to the floor with a hollow thud, its contents spilling out in an unceremonious heap. You froze, your pulse quickening as you recognized it—the box of belongings you’d had with you when they took you to the hospital. You’d refused to unpack it then, shoving it out of sight to avoid reopening wounds that hadn’t even begun to heal. The castle. The flames. Him.

But it had been a month. Surely, someone like you would have moved on by now.

“It’s just clothes,” you muttered to yourself, crouching to gather the scattered items. Your fingers brushed against the fabric of the dress you’d worn that night. It felt foreign and familiar all at once, its torn edges and scorched seams tangible remnants of that nightmare. As you bunched it up, you winced and drop the dress, a sharp sting prickling your fingertip.

“Ouch,” you muttered, seeing it draw blood. “What kind of dress would be this sha-"

It was a brooch.

No, not just any brooch. It was a brooch bearing his crest. Sunghoon’s crest.

The ruby gleamed faintly, tarnished by smoke and fire, but still unmistakable. Regal. Intricate. For a moment, you froze, your breath catching in your throat. It lay nestled in the folds of the dress, as if it had always been waiting for you to find it. Tentatively, your fingers closed around it, and as you pulled it free, the weight of it settled in your palm like a stone.

Your breath hitched as the dam burst. Memories flooded in—his voice, his touch, the way he’d looked at you in those final moments. The way he’d fought for you. The way he’d bled for you. The way he’d let you go.

The way he was gone.

Your chest tightened painfully as you stared at the brooch, its sharp edges pressing into your palm. This was all that remained. The only proof that he had existed, that any of it had been real.

The thought clawed at you, unrelenting, as a darker possibility crept into your mind. Vampires left no trace when they perished—no ashes, no remains. If he was gone, truly gone, you might never know. And that terrified you. In fact it terrified and pained you even more than if he was gone simply because he had walked away.

Your grip on the crest tightened, the sharp edges digging into your skin, grounding you in a pain that couldn’t compare to the ache tearing through your chest. You closed your eyes, clutching it to your heart, as though holding it closer might somehow bridge the impossible distance between you and him.

You closed your eyes, whispering his name into the stillness of the room, hoping—praying—that somehow, somewhere, he could hear you.

But the room offered no answer.

Only silence. Only absence.

And the ache—deep and unrelenting—remained.

(( just kidding 🤡 ))

Five years had passed.

Sunghoon never re-eappeared in your life.

You have by then made peace with the fact that perhaps he was never coming back. Perhaps he was gone. Forever.

Memories of him didn’t sting as sharply as they once did. The ache was still there, faint and distant, like a hole you cannot fill but it’s at least not a gaping hole anymore.

By then you could even convince yourself that perhaps, you have really gotten over him.

But then you’d be an outright liar.

Because you still wore his crest as a pendant, hidden beneath your shirt—a weight you carried, not just on your chest but deep within you. It was a quiet reminder, a silent wall you couldn’t breach.

And while memories of him no longer brought tears to your eyes, dreams of those nights—the chaos, the fire, the way his blood soaked through your hands—still jolted you awake, your face damp with tears you didn't remember shedding. They were the only testament to how deeply, how irreparably, the experience and memories had scarred you.

So you did what you did best: buried yourself in work. You numbed the ache, dulled the thoughts that haunted you, and clawed your way to higher pinnacles of success, reaching farther than you’d ever imagined. Even now, halfway across the world in Venice, Italy, you weren’t here for leisure—you were here for work.

It wasn’t until your final evening that Anton managed to drag you to the Carnevale di Venezia. “You need to live more,” he said, practically shoving you into the car. Begrudgingly, you agreed.

But the moment you stepped out of the car, you were greeted by men and women in elaborate period gowns and Venetian masks—and your stomach twisted.

The sight wasn’t just familiar—it was identical. Hauntingly so. To that of five years ago.

Sickening memories long buried clawed their way back to the surface—the blood, the shadows, the terror. It didn’t carry the ache it once had, but it brought something far worse: a creeping fear that wormed its way beneath your calm exterior, unraveling the composure you’d worked so hard to rebuild.

You swallowed hard, legs heavy, but Anton was too enamoured with the festivities to notice. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you through the crowd like an overexcited child.

When he stopped in front of an antique shop selling ornate masks and extravagant dresses, you could feel the air thinning. The shopkeeper offered you a delicate mask to try on, but as Anton reached toward your face to put one on, your body reacted faster than your mind did. Your hand shot up, gripping his wrist in an iron hold, your fingers digging into his skin, as if you were trying to fend him off. As if he was attacking you.

“y/n—” he froze, his voice laced with shock, his playful grin vanishing. His gaze flickered to your trembling hand, then back to your face, his concern deepening.

Your heart pounded, the masks and laughter around you blurring into dark suffocating shadows. For a moment, you weren’t in Venice. You were back there—in the castle, in the nightmare. You blinked rapidly, forcing yourself to breathe, “sorry,” you stammered, dropping his wrist as though it burned you, “I—uh—the breakfast I had this morning—it’s not sitting right.”

Anton rubbed his wrist, his brows furrowed in confusion and concern. “y/n, are you okay?”

You forced a smile, though it felt like it might crack under the weight of your panic. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, waving him off. “Just... go ahead and try something on. I’ll stick with you—just not with all this.” You gestured vaguely at the masks, hoping he wouldn’t press further.

Anton sighed, his concern still visible. “Fine. Promise me you'll stop brooding and actually try to have some fun after?”

“What are you? Five?” you teased halfheartedly, shoving him playfully toward a nearby fitting room to change.

When he emerged from the fitting room, the sheer absurdity of his appearance—a frock too large, a mask so elaborate it drowned his features—pulled a reluctant laugh from you. For a fleeting moment, the tension in your chest eased and you let yourself be dragged along as Anton paraded through the festivities, snapping pictures and weaving through the crowd with unabashed joy.

But then, a procession swept through.

Figures in hooded cloaks and plague doctor masks glided past, their movements deliberate and haunting. The crowd murmured in awe, parting to let them pass, but you froze. The sight slammed into you like a blow, the memories rising unbidden—shadows in corridors, masks that promised death, the chase that had nearly taken everything from you.

“Anton,” you called, your voice tight, panic edging in. “Let’s move on—”

But he was gone.

“Anton?” Your voice cracked as you turned in place, your eyes darting through the sea of masked strangers. The crowd swelled, pressing against you, their laughter sharp and hollow, the music twisting into a dissonant wail. “Anton!” you shouted, louder now, desperation threading through your words.

No response.

The world spun, the faces around you blurring into grotesque shapes. Each mask seemed to leer at you, each figure a spectre of the past. Your breaths came shallow and rapid, the air thick, suffocating.

You stumbled, muttering apologies to strangers who didn’t respond, their masked faces a wall of indifference.

Then suddenly ahead, you caught sight of a figure perched on a raised platform, dressed in elaborate silks that shimmered in the flickering light. But it wasn’t the outfit that made your stomach drop—it was the mask.

A jester mask.

The painted grin stretched unnaturally wide, its hollow eyes glinting as though they could see through you. Bells dangled from the cap, their faint chime cutting through the distant hum of laughter. The figure moved with a deliberate slowness, their head tilting at an unnatural angle as they raised their hand. A thorny rose appeared in their grasp, the gesture painfully deliberate, as though meant just for you.

And then, with a flick of their wrist, the rose ignited, flames curling up the stem until it disintegrated into ash. The sharp smell of burning filled the air, suffocating and bitter, clawing at your senses. The fire, the laughter, the castle, Jaeyun—it all came rushing back, vivid and unrelenting. You spun on your heel, desperate to escape, only to collide with someone else.

A man in a Bauta mask loomed over you, his breath audible through the thin slits. His towering frame bent closer, murmuring something low and indistinct. But you didn’t hear him. Couldn’t. The panic clawed at your chest, your vision tunneling as you shoved past him and broke into the crowd again.

The masks blurred together, grotesque and faceless, shadows from a nightmare that wouldn’t end. You moved blindly, each step unsteady, until—

You saw him.

An uncovered face, sharp and unmistakable in a sea of obscured ones.

The air seemed to leave your lungs. The noise of the carnival faded, the crowd melting into a haze of color and motion.

No mask. No cloak. Just him.

But it couldn’t be, you told yourself. It had to be a hallucination, your mind playing cruel tricks, dredging him up from memories you’d buried too deep. Then suddenly the crowd surged again, jostling you sideways. Your feet stumbled against the uneven pavement, your balance slipping.

You braced for the fall, but strong arms caught you.

“I’m sorry—” you began, your voice trembling as you tried to gather yourself. But then your gaze drop, and the words died in your throat. Right in your line of sight, pinned to the lapel of his suit, was a ruby crest, gleaming faintly under the dim, flickering light.

The very crest you wore as a pendant, tucked close to your heart like a secret you refused to let go of.

Your breath hitched, the roar of your pulse drowning out the world, the air turning electric as the ache in your chest returned with a vengeance. The carnival around you dissolved into nothingness, leaving only the man before you.

Your trembling eyes trailed upward, hesitation clawing at you with every inch. Fear mingled with hope, disbelief warred with yearning. And then you saw him.

Sunghoon.

It was really him. The sharp lines of his jaw, the darkness of his eyes, the way his presence seemed to draw the air from your lungs. He wasn’t wearing a mask, just like you. Amidst a sea of hidden faces, he stood barefaced, unapologetically himself.

Time seemed to still. Your heart clenched painfully as the flood of emotions you’d spent five years suppressing surged forward, overwhelming you.

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move.

His gaze was still so intense and all-consuming, yet it no longer had the same sharpness as it did before. It no longer aimed to paralyze you or probe the depths of your mind. Instead, it carried a softness, an ache, as though trying to express all the things that words had failed to capture. And just like that, in the silence, in the circle of each other's arms, the years of separation unraveled in the space between you. Every unspoken word, every lingering ache, every memory you’d fought to bury rose to the surface, raw and undeniable, contained in that one look.

Your lips parted, but no sound came. You weren’t even sure what you wanted to say. His name? An accusation? A plea?

Yet, as if avoidance and defensiveness were hardwired into you when it came to him, you started to pull yourself away—but, as always, he anticipated it and before you could even take a step back, his grip on you tightened.

“y/n, don’t,” he said, his grip strong yet his voice soft, almost pleading.

The sound of your name on his lips shattered something inside you. You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering in your ears. “You left,” you whispered, barely able to hear your own voice. “You never came back. I—” you stammered, “—I even thought you might have died.”

“I’m here now,” he murmured, his voice steady but laced with something heavier—guilt, perhaps, or regret. “I never wanted to leave you y/n. But I had to.”

You stiffened, the heat rising in your chest overtaking the trembling in your hands. “You had to?” the bitterness in your voice surprised even you. “That’s what you’re going with? You had to vanish, leave me with nothing but questions—nothing but ghosts—and then reappear like you’ve done nothing wrong? like some noble martyr?”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. “You think it was easy for me? That leaving you behind was some choice I wanted to make?”

“Then why?” your voice cracked, the words sharper than you intended. “Why did you leave? You could have left a trace, a sign, let me know that—” you caught yourself, shaking your head as your hands balled into fists, “—no. You know what, it doesn't matter anymore. You should have continued to stay away. I was doing just fine. Finally doing just fine and yet here you are. Must have been fun staying in the shadows and trailing me around—seeing me lose my mind in the past 5 years then coming back just when I've finally gotten over you?!"

The accusation lingered, heavy in the space between you.

But even as you spoke, the weight of your own words pressed against you. Wasn’t this exactly what you wanted—to see him again? To demand an answer for the questions that had haunted you in the dead of night? And yet, now that he was here, standing in front of you, the anger felt hollow. A shield, yes, but one that barely held back the ache threatening to flood through the cracks.

You glanced at his face, searching for something—anything—that would reignite the rage you clung to so desperately. But his eyes, dark and steady, reflected none of the sharp arrogance you once associated with him. Instead, they were quiet. Soft. Aching.

Damn him. Damn him for looking at you like that, as if you meant something to him. As if he was hurting just as much as it had hurt you.

His grip on your wrist loosened, but he didn’t let go, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “y/n I had no choice," he said softly, his voice steady despite the tremor beneath it. “The fire may have purged the deviants who deserved punishments but it sent shockwaves through my world. If I’d stayed, I would have brought danger to your door..." he sighed, "so I stayed away. And continued staying away especially after seeing you finally able to smile and laugh so freely over the recent years—as if you could finally breathe. I realised then that perhaps this was the sacrifice I needed to make, the debt I owed you—your peace."

His voice dropped, quieter now, as though the memory itself was unbearable. “But then tonight…” his hand flexed at his side, his grip on your wrist tightening briefly. “I saw the terror and dread suddenly return to your face—the very expressions I swore I’d never let you feel again." He paused, his jaw tightening as his gaze flickered to meet yours, “—and before I even knew what I was doing, it all broke. Every reason I had to stay away dissipated and all I wanted—all I want—is to protect you. To take it all away.”

He took a step closer, the space between you shrinking. His voice softened, steady but raw. “And when our eyes met. I thought there was something there—some sort of softness. For once, you didn't look at me with the usual armor in your eyes…" he faltered, his throat tightening, “—and that stripped away the last vestiges of my resolve; every lie I told myself. I realised then, I was never meant to be a saint nor be selfless. Not with you."

You froze, his vulnerability hitting you harder than it should have. But the simmering anger, the years of buried hurt, clawed its way back to the surface. “You’re always so good at that you know—vanishing, making me go nearly insane with guilt, and then coming back just when I thought I’d finally gotten over you.” You swallowed hard, the bitterness in your voice sharpening. “Exactly like 13 years ago, after I poisoned you.”

He stilled, his gaze flickering with something unreadable—regret, pain, guilt. But you didn’t give him a chance to speak.

"Back then, you should have come back, hunted me down and killed me—" you hissed, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "We'd have nipped it in the bud. Save ourselves. But instead, you dragged it on for so long. Perhaps this was your way of ruining me—from the inside out. The first time through guilt. The second time through loss."

He swallowed thickly, his mouth parting as though to sigh, but the sound never came. His jaw tensed, and when he finally spoke, his voice carried the weight of a confession dragged from the depths of him. "y/n. I stayed away the first time because I was afraid."

His gaze flickered down for a moment, as if grounding himself, before rising to meet yours again. "After you poisoned me, I was afraid that if I saw you again..." he paused, his jaw tightening as though the words physically hurt to say. "—I wouldn’t want to kill you. That instead—like some pathetic moth drawn to the flame, or worse, like a stupid dog that doesn’t see the cruelty of its master—I’d come running to you. I’d embrace you."

The words hung between you, the implication of every words filling the space—a confession that tore through you even as it laid him bare. That was when you realised, perhaps, just like how you've avoided him to prevent anything from growing between you, Sunghoon's scathing and predatory words were perhaps his way of masking his devotion—a way to convince himself that it was all simply powerplay and primal desires. And you take that bait too literally as it all fitted with your own defense mechanism—the logic and rationality that you always employ to stop yourself from becoming vulnerable. But knowing the truth didn’t soften the ache. If anything, it sharpened it—because it meant you had been fighting the same battle, just on opposite sides. Both of you circling the same truth but never daring to claim it.

"Then maybe all this proves is that we're never meant to be. Like fire feeding fire, we burn each other alive, pretending it's warmth, until there's nothing left of us but smoke and ruin," you said, your voice hollow but steady, as if the words had been carved out of you.

“Then let me be the ruin,” he closed the remaining distance between you, his presence towering but his movements slow, as though afraid to startle you. "Let it burn me down to nothing. Let it hollow me out, scorch every part of me. But don’t ask me to extinguish it—not when it’s the only thing keeping me alive."

"You've lived for so long," you murmured, your voice heavy with exhaustion. "you, of all people, should know better that being self-destructive like this doesn't ensure happiness."

“It’s exactly because I’ve lived for so long,” he said, his voice low and weighted with a quiet sorrow, “that I know ruin is the only thing that stays, where nothing else lasts.”

The silence that followed was thick, not suffocating but heavy, like something unspoken had finally settled between you. When he drew closer, you didn't back away this time. When his hand cupped your cheek—warm, steady, and lingering—you didn’t pull away either. It wasn’t forgiveness, and it wasn’t surrender. But for now, it was enough for it conveyed more than words ever could.

Two years had passed since you were reunited with Sunghoon. Seven years since the fire. And fifteen years, in total, since you met him—the man who had brought chaos, danger, and frustration into your life than you thought possible.

If someone had told you then that he would become a near-permanent fixture in your life—and your apartment—you might have laughed. Or rolled your eyes.

Or poisoned him again.

“Fuck,” you nearly dropped your groceries as you stepped into your apartment to find him lounging on the couch like he owned the place, dressed in pajama bottoms and a black robe. Its opening, casually loose and just revealing enough to hint at his chest, made the sight far too leisurely for your liking. In fact, he looked so at ease, so disgustingly domestic, like he belonged—but the sight only made his presence feel more invasive. “Why are you always here? Go back to your penthouse. It’s way bigger.”

“But there’s no you,” he said, far too smoothly, suddenly reappearing beside you. Before you could protest, he took the groceries from your hands, unpacking them into the fridge and shelves with alarming familiarity.

Perhaps it wasn’t alarming anymore. He’d been doing this for months—showing up whenever he had a moment to spare from whatever duties occupied a vampire’s time. He even bought the unit next to yours, offering excuses to drop by that were as ridiculous as they were transparent: needing eggs, faulty lighting, lost keys. All nonsense, of course, since he didn’t need nourishment, had no reason to fear the dark and can teleport just fine if he wanted to.

“Right, what’s your excuse tonight?” you asked, flopping onto the couch.

“The a/c is broken,” he replied smoothly.

“You used that excuse two weeks ago Sunghoon.”

“Did I?” he mused, unbothered. “Well, this time it’s the sprinklers. Got set off when I was trying to sear my steak. Now the place is flooded. Disgusting, really.”

You scoffed. “Sunghoon, cut the crap. What do you want from me?”

“Nothing. I just want to be with you,” he quipped with a shrug. “You always rejected my offer to ask you to move in with me—penthouse, townhouse, heck even the manor near that hiking spot you like—so here I am. Playing househusband. Or maid, depending on the day.”

“Right,” you said, raising a brow, “you definitely need to stop lounging around in that robe. It’s too casual. People might think you’re my husband or something.”

He grinned, the corner of his mouth tilting upward in that infuriating way. “That’s the goal.”

“You know normal humans and vampires can’t co-exist in that way right?”

“We’re anything but normal y/n,” he replied smoothly, making his way to the living room and plopping down to your left. His elbow propped lazily on the headrest, his posture screaming nonchalance, as if daring you to challenge him. “We can do whatever we please. Or however you please.”

You furrowed your brows, annoyed. If his teasing back then had been a game of one-upmanship—an endless, borderline competitive battle of wits—now it had shifted into something more dangerous. Flirtatious, deliberate, and entirely designed to fluster you. A different ball game—one you weren’t used to playing.

Leaning back, you crossed your arms. “Well, bad news. It’s time for me to do normal stuff and settle down, and the guy earlier—”

“Right, the one you had a date with—“ he cut in, “—or rather the one you were forced to meet up with—“

“—is the best candidate so far,” you continued, rolling your eyes at his interruption. You were used to it by now—used to him knowing too much about your life, like an ever-present fly on the wall, “—he is mature, understanding, and not clingy.”

“Sounds exactly like me but a pale imitiation because come on, I am way good looking in a way no human can replicate and most importantly,” his hand found your jaw, tilting your face toward him. His voice dropped, low and steady. “Only I understand you and your complexity y/n and only you understand mine. We are made for each other—we’re too dysfunctional for others, but perfect for each other. No one else could survive us.”

“Then what if one day I feel so suffocated and poison you again?” you shot back.

“I’ll let you,” he said quietly, his lips curving in a subtle, almost resigned way as his eyes bore into yours. This could have been lighthearted and playful but those voice and those gaze were anything but. “I've told you this before: I’ll let you ruin me in the end as long as you’ll have me.”

“Don’t you ever feel that you’ve given too much and I’ve not given enough—" you retorted. It wasn’t meant to hurt him. You just wanted to come clean with him.

“Oh, I know that very much. Better than anyone in fact—” he murmured, his fingers brushing your collar before slipping beneath it, catching the chain that lay hidden against your skin. “And this—” he lifted it gently, his thumb grazing the crest you wore as a pendant with a reverence that only he could feel, “—you wearing this—it says more than you ever could.”

“Don’t get any ideas,” you muttered, smacking his hand off. “Your crest has been very useful—it keeps other biters at bay.”

Then suddenly, his hand moved before you could react, sliding to the curve of your right waist with a deliberate slowness that sent a shiver racing up your spine. His fingers pressed lightly into your side, tracing the curve of your body as though memorizing the path. The motion was unhurried, grounding you in place while leaving no question of his intent. Then, he shifted closer, bracing one knee on the cushion beside you before the other followed suit in one fluid motion. The couch dipped under his weight, trapping you effortlessly. His hand found the headrest behind you, his presence closing in until all you could feel was him—the heat radiating from his body, the cadence of his breath, the way his fingers lingered just a second too long before trailing upward along your side.

“Then use me like you use the crest—” he murmured, his voice dipping to something quieter, almost reverent. His lips hovered inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours as his hand trailed up the curve of your spine, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin, “—you know I’m completely at your mercy.”

“For someone who should be wise beyond his years, you don’t seem to learn your lesson,” you managed to say back, raising a hand to his chest in a feeble attempt to stop him.

The tension thickened, swallowing the space entirely as his right hand slid up the nape of your neck, warm and deliberate, sending a sharp jolt through your senses. Without warning, he tilted your head back sharply, making you look up at him in a strained way as he towered over you, his dark eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made the air around you feel heavier. "I never learn my lesson when it comes to you," he murmured as his face dipped closer. His voice was steady almost reverent—but the weight of control behind it was unmistakable.

His eyes moved slowly, tracing a path from your eyes to your lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing sharply, the motion betraying the thin thread of restraint he clung to. It was as though swallowing was the only thing keeping him tethered, holding back something far more dangerous than words. When his gaze returned to yours, it was darker, sharper, and filled with a hunger barely leashed, “—and I don’t want to. Ever.”

His words hung in the air for only a moment before his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was anything but gentle—it was a brutal collision of yearning, years of pent-up emotions, frustration, and something far darker that had simmered between you for far too long. The force of his kiss drove you backward, your head pressing into the unyielding headrest as he claimed your lips. The angle left you no choice but to tilt your head farther in a strained way, a soft gasp escaping you—one he seized without hesitation, deepening the kiss, consuming you entirely.

He tasted of power and desire, a heady combination that made your head spin. Then, with a sharp, sudden motion, he pulled you towards him with startling strength, pressing your bodies together with a searing intensity—making you feel every inch of him: the hard, unyielding planes of his chest, the muscular ridges of his abdomen, even the tension in his body, the coiled power, the barely leashed restraint. His hand, splayed over your back, was like a steel band around your waist, forcing your body to arch unnaturally backwards as his kiss pursued you, driving you farther back, lips growing more demanding and insistent by the second.

Your body gradually grew pliant under his domineering, possessive, hold–overwhelmed by the ferocity and sheer possessiveness of his every kiss and touch. There was literally no room to think, no space to resist—not that you wanted to. He overwhelmed every sense, each touch unraveling the walls you’d so carefully built. You told yourself it was only physical, that the fire consuming you was nothing but desire. But deep down, you knew better. You weren’t just losing control—you were giving it to him.

Your hands flew to his biceps, clinging for balance, your fingers digging into his tense muscles for support, feeling the power and strength that lay beneath. His muscles flexed under your touch, a silent warning of the raw, untamed masculinity that simmered just below his skin. As you struggled to draw in air, your lips parted unwittingly, and Sunghoon was quick to take advantage. Before you could even gasp for breath, his thumb pressed down on your chin, forcing your lips apart, his tongue already breaching past to plunder your mouth with a fierce and primal intensity that left you breathless.

Emboldened, Sunghoon's hand slithered up your back like a serpent claiming its prey, his large hand nearly covering the entire width of your back. Then with a fluid motion, without breaking the kiss at all, he lifted you with surprising ease, his arm muscles flexing in a display of raw power and dominance, as he manoeuvered you sideways before forcefully pushing you down onto the cushions with controlled strength—enough to knock the air out of your lungs but not enough to suffocate. Yet.

The couch groaned under the weight of your entangled bodies, sinking further as Sunghoon hovered over you, his powerful legs bracketing your hips, his muscular frame dwarfing yours. He pushed you deeper into the cushions, his body a solid, warm weight pressing you down, his lips never breaking contact with yours, his kiss relentless. He angled your head to his liking, his free hand exploring your body with a gentle dominance, fingers tracing the curve of your waist, down to the swell of your hips, a teasing caress that made your heart race. It was as if he was trying to etch every curve into memory.

Finally he pulled back, but only so slightly to grant you reprieve from his lips, for his weight still anchored him firmly against you as he straddled your hips, creating a tantalizing gap between your bodies. His gaze had completely shifted then—smouldering in a way that authoritatively pinned you in place without having to physically restrain you. "This is your chance," he said, his voice gravelly with restrained desire, as he tore the robe from his shoulders with an impatient motion, letting it fall in a forgotten heap on the floor. Bare from the waist up, his muscular frame seemed even more commanding, each ridge of muscle sharp and unyielding without the confines of clothing.

This wasn’t the first time you’d seen his bare torso, but tonight, his physique felt too imposing—as if every ridge of muscle was sculpted exactly to intimidate and conquer. The air around him seemed to hum with power while the intensity of his gaze stole words right from your throat. He continued, "you can resist, push me away, or even slap me, but once I begin, I won't be able to stop".

You swallowed thickly, the weight of his piercing gaze pressing down on you, making you feel small beneath him. It wasn’t just his physical presence—towering, commanding—that made your breath hitch. It was the intensity in his eyes, the way they seemed to strip you bare, leaving no room for pretense or armor. You hated that he could do this to you, hated more that you couldn’t look away. You couldn’t lie to yourself: he was indeed intimidating at the moment. But was it fear that made your pulse race, or something darker, something you weren’t ready to name?

You could push him away, the words lingered in your mind like an invitation. But the truth was, you’d had a thousand chances to stop him before things went too far. And yet, here you were, under him. Because as much as you hated his power over you, you had already decided to let it in.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, the loose cardigan slipping from your shoulders, exposing your bare skin to his ravenous gaze. Sunghoon’s eyes darkened like a brewing storm, his chest rising and falling in sync with your own ragged breaths. Your lips still tingled from the searing kiss, the memory of his touch a constant reminder that you hadn’t stopped him. That you hadn’t wanted to.

"I wouldn’t have let you get this far if I wasn’t sure, Sungh—" you panted out, but before you could finish, he surged forward, recapturing your lips with a fierce and almost punishing force. The kiss was a tempest, a chaotic collision of passion and need, pulling you under and leaving you breathless, weightless, and utterly undone.

As his mouth consumed yours, his hands moved with purpose and urgency, stripping away your cardigan with a deft touch. The cool air against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat of his body, making you acutely aware of every inch of him. His other hand slipped under your shirt, his fingers tracing the curvature of your spine with a deliberate languor that made your breath hitch. Your body arched into his touch, your restraint crumbling under the weight of his passion. He responded by pressing you deeper into the plush couch, his body a heavy, welcome weight, pinning you beneath him, a captive to his desire.

The soft cushions molded to your form, offering a sensual contrast to the hard planes of his chest against your soft skin. "Sunghoon—" you gasped, struggling for air and begging him to slow down, but he showed no mercy. Instead, his lips descended upon yours with even greater ferocity, turning the kiss hungrier, messier and wetter as his mouth and tongue move with a frenzied passion that bordered on brutal, as if he was trying to consume you whole and leave nothing but ashes in his wake—the ferocity of which was mirrored by the rhythm of his hips as he ground against you, a tantalizing preview of what was to come.

You knew you were treading uncharted territories—felt it in the way his hands gripped you, relentless and commanding with a possessiveness that bordered on primal—every movement daring you to stop him and knowing you wouldn’t. But then again, this had always been the dynamic between you two: a dance on the knife’s edge—a battle masquerading as a game, where neither truly won. Every step only pulled you deeper into the other's orbit, not for the comfort peace or safety, but for the chaos only the other could create.

But somewhere along the way, the chaos had shifted. It was no longer about fighting against each other, about destruction for the sake of it. Instead, it had become something far more dangerous: a harmony within the chaos.

You had learned to move in sync, not because you sought peace, but because you understood each other too well. The storm hadn’t disappeared—it never would—but now, you weathered it together. No one else could bear the weight of your detachment—the walls you built, the silence you carried—but him. And no one else could bear his chaos—the storm within him, the fire that never died—the way you did.

You weren’t drawn to each other just for the fire, but because you were each other’s constant. You were his unshakable anchor: the force that rooted him in a reality he couldn’t manipulate, teaching him that respect—not domination—was the foundation of something enduring and real. And he was your constant storm: a chaotic force that blows through your carefully constructed walls, showing you that stability isn't always the answer. You let him destabilize your certainty; he lets you unravel his control.

You two were a mess and yet you two never sought to change nor fix the other. Because within one another was the only place where everything made sense, even as the world burned around you. It wasn’t peace, nor was it safety—but it was home. And it was inevitable, as it always had been.

A/N: DONE. DUSTED. GONE. PHEW. Now I can pack peacefully for my flight tomorrow. This is farthest and the most committed I've ever been in writing so please, show me some appreciation by leaving feedback. This is possibly my last writing after all. Also! just wanted to shed some light into the ending: I've created two very complex, messy as hell, multi-layered, characters who went through hell and back with a knife ((or fangs)) on each other's throat for most of the time, so you can’t expect a Hallmark-esque ending with elopement, three kids, and a cozy life baking sourdough in a quaint cottage deep in the woods. After everything they’ve been through—betrayals, obsession, bloodshed, and vulnerability—it would feel unrealistic to wrap their relationship in a neat bow. There’s too much baggage to simply ignore, and I am honoring those journey, their personality and their arcs by opting for such an ending in the epilogue. One that is unapologetically and messily theirs.

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