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#and all of his attention is on pleasing that audience
Note
Real talk
Im sooooo tired of Vox always being portrayed as the victim and Alastor the only one 100% responsible for their friendship falling apart
Did we all suddenly forgot that Vox is a terrible person too? He brainwashes his audience, he supports Val, he is willing to offer his lowest employees for Val to kill, he's also prob abusive to his employees as well, he stalks pretty much everyone, he has like 5 cameras inside Angel's dressing room, also it's like implied he's jealous of Angel because he gets Val's attention, him being jealous of Angel for being a victim of abuse is pretty messed up if you ask me. Oh he also told Sir Pentious to fucking kill himself and he also gets hard of seeing people in pain and get hurt! (Sure it was Alastor but still messed up)
" he looks so sad at the end of stayed gone when Alastor threatens him I feel so bad for him:(("
Really ? Well maybe if he had just kept his little hate boner for Al to himself instead of feeling to need to start publicly slandering him it wouldn't had happened. Just saying. Also I don't see how people feel bad for him. If anything he looks so extremely pathetic it's laughable I want to kick him
Okay this is kinda out of the point I want to make it's just many people who make him the victim seem to forget he's a terrible person so I just wanted to friendly remind everyone that he's as awful as Al ^^
Anyway
I think, we should acknowledge, that it's a complicated, and probably tragic, situation. What if, maybe, they're both as equal at fault for shit going down hills for their friendship. Vox because he doesn't respect others wishes and cannot take no for an answer, he prob tried forcing Al to move on with recent technology, which Al hates. ((His request to Al to join the Vees also prob meant catching up with the nowdays stuff and new technology, like the rest of them)) and Al because he was prob unnecessary cruel and brutal with his rejection.
I don't think Al was just using Vox like I've seen many people say. He allowed Vox to take a picture of them together. For Al to do that I think it confirms their friendship was genuine. "Ah but it's Alastor so that means it was fake cuz he's an evil manipulative bastard who only cares for him-" You're wrong, but also right lol. He's an evil manipulative bastard, but , he's also capable of genuine friendships with others (( did y'all forget Rosie lol? )). What I think happened is that, time passed , things changed. Vox became obsessed with new technology and tried to force Al to follow in, Al didn't like that, but instead of communicating with eachother and solving their problems by talking it out and respect eachother's wishes, they had an unnecessary argument and fight. They're both to blame for this, they're no victims in the situation and it's okay you can still sympathise with eithers side
Also people who make Al the villain for like not returning Vox's confession and feelings in most One sided Radiostatic videos/fics I've seen-- yikes.. I really hate that I have to literally say to PLEASE don't villiantise the aroace character for being aroace and rejecting confessions. It's extremely ace/arophonic (and yes I get to have a say to this, I'm a replused aroace videos/fics like this genuinely make me feel negative emotions) even if he was extremely cruel with his rejection -- villiantise the fact that he's an asshole- not his rejection.
yes I agree!! this is essentially a consolidation of points I've made before ksdlfglg
like yes, alastor's an absolute shithead but I think there are some people who forget that vox is also... not a good person. I don't think there's anything wrong with there being sympathetic aspects to vox but I feel like there's such a huge amount of fanwork where he's the only one portrayed sympathetically without showing his own bad points in their relationship, and I absolutely hate it when alastor is fully blamed for how vox is now and vox is seen as
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yeah
vox got pissy at a rejection, that's not being able to take no for an answer, that's incel behaviour LMAO
feel like there's something to be said about people feeling the need to sympathise with the one with unrequited feelings compared to the one who has to deal with someone expecting romance from them when they don't feel the same. does it have to do with society's expectations about romance that unrequited feelings are more sympathisable?
but yeah I am glad that at least the "complicated" part of the description of their relationship implies to me it won't be as simple as "vox was the poor victim and alastor was just using him", I think it is much more interesting if there's no clear victim and both were at fault in a way
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cinewhore · 2 days
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The Duchess of London (2)
Pairing: Thomas “Tommy” Shelby x fem!reader
Word Count: 3.8k
Warnings: angst, mentions of drinking, drugs, blood, gore, fighting, guns, fluff. 
A/N: Wrote the first part damn near a year ago! Wanted to finally finish it off. Please know that another part is highly unlikely! No beta. Enjoy! Credits to the gif artist. 
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Thomas Shelby ends up on your doorstep three months later. 
Technically, it was the door of the Gentlemen’s Club, Adonis, where you helped to manage the talent and had a few stocks invested in. 
If you hadn’t been paying attention, you would’ve missed him entirely. Tommy remained seated in the back of the room near the door, one leg crossed over the other, fingers delicately grasping the rim of a glass. It was a talent of his, being able to blend into a room seamlessly while still maintaining a sense of distinctiveness. You couldn’t lie, the thought of seeing him again taunted you day after day. Thinking about his plump lips on yours, hands pressing against your neck- 
A throat clears. “I believe it’s your turn, Duchess.” 
You blink a few times, returning to the present. Sir Donald Chesnut fixes you with a stare, pool stick tapping the floor impatiently. 
Giving him your best innocent smile, you nod and saunter around the table. There were two of his stripes left compared to your four solids. The men who gathered to “watch” all gawked as you bent over the velvet lined table, dress straining against your backside. You’re sure to milk their attention for all its worth, a teeny frown sprawling across your face as you stand back up. 
“Must I repeat the rules of the game for you, miss? See those colored balls? You have to hit them into the holes. Do you understand?” Donald taunts, voice barely masking his mockery. 
You smile and shrug. “Gee, I just can’t seem to decide which one to hit, they’re all so pretty!” 
A few in the audience chuckle at the perceived naivete. Thomas takes a swig of his drink, watching your hands carefully. 
“Let me assist you then.” 
Donald pushes up against you, hands helping to position yours correctly. Upon steading them, you attempt to hit one of your balls but fail to do so. You jerk back into him as you laugh, hands fanning at your cleavage.
“I’m not even sure how I got the other balls in, must be a lady’s luck.” you comment. 
“Sure.” Donald nods, already gearing up for his next shot. He sinks his two remaining balls with ease but misses the eight ball by a hair. 
“Oh! You almost had it. Maybe I can catch up.” 
“Good luck.” Donald tuts, hands grazing your ass as he passes behind you. 
The act drops immediately and you get to work cleaning up the table. The balls clinking against each other before they sink into the pockets fills you with such pleasure you fight hard to maintain your poker face. 
The eight ball lays just a few inches away from the right corner pocket, albeit at an odd angle. If you weren’t careful, it was an easy shot to miss and you didn’t want to give this fucker a chance to win. That didn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun with your prey. 
“Are you gonna call it?” Donald asks. 
“Eight ball, middle right pocket. 
Donald huffs out something that sounded like a mix between a snort and a sigh. “No fuckin’ way. You can’t make that!” 
You don’t take your eyes off of him as you station yourself off center to the ball, cocking the pool stick until the weight of the wood feels comfortable in your hands. Sucking in a small breath, you let the stick slip through your fingers as you exhale. You could feel everyone else in the room hold their own collective breath as the ball pings around the table, making haphazard patterns until it slowly nears the pocket. 
The eight ball all but comes to a complete stop before it finally drops into the pocket, the white ball close behind. You refuse to move, afraid that any sudden shift could cause the other ball to fall in behind it.
The ball edges you as it nears the pocket but you release a sigh of relief as it comes to a halt. You don't dare celebrate openly, just smile and wink at Donald, who was turning more red by the minute. Murmurs fly and papers shuffle as the men protest about their lost money.
Thomas finally approaches you as the others file out of the room, for sure in search of ways to better their bruised egos. 
You don’t pay him any mind as you rack the balls up. 
“You look like a professional.” 
“You can too. Would you like to learn how to play?” 
Tommy shakes his head. “No, I don’t think I can keep steady hands.” 
You hum in response, eyes shifting up to meet his. “That’s unfortunate.” 
He is quiet as he comes to stand in front of you, hands reaching up to brush against your cheek. “Is there someplace we can talk?” 
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You pour Tommy another glass of whiskey before settling on the plush cushions next to him. The office space you acquired wasn’t as glamorous as you’d hoped it’d be but it provided a sense of solace where you could conduct business without hosting unwanted people in your home.
“So, is this a visit for pleasure or business? Perhaps both?” 
Tommy knocks back his drink, throat bobbing as the cool liquor coats his mouth. “Marry me.” 
You sputter out a laugh, shaking your head. “Pardon me?” 
“I need you to marry me.” 
“No,” you hold out a hand to stop him as you notice that he’s reaching into his coat pocket. “Have you gone fucking mad?” 
“I need to form an alliance with the Elephants and this is the best way in.” 
He fixes you with that stare and for a moment you’re sucked into his abyss, thinking about the possibility of becoming Mrs. Thomas Shelby but as quickly as the thought comes, it fades. This wasn’t your fight and you found it hardly fair that you were being used as some sort of pawn. You were familiar with his antics and knew that anyone being used by the Shelby clan typically resulted in death. As it so happens, you were pretty fond of your life at the moment. 
You stand up from your seat abruptly, pacing back and forth. “I can’t marry you, Tommy.” 
“I know it’s not an ideal proposal but you’ll have full control over the wedding details-” 
Stopping mid pace, you turn to face your childhood friend. “What, did the war fuck with your hearing? I said I won’t marry you.” 
Tommy drops his head, reaching back inside his pockets in search of a cigarette. He gets up to lurk near you, admiring the sour look on your face. “Is this how Marcus turned you down, eh?” 
You swallow thickly, resisting to meet his gaze. Of course he knew about Marcus, he knew about everything and then some. The all knowing Shelby’s with their endless amount of dirt, ready to throw it on anyone who stood in their way. 
“I don’t know to whom you are referring.” you lie, terribly so. Tommy could hear the pained yearning in your voice. 
“Marcus Toussaint, old money from the Toussaints of France. Made their fortune from coal. He’s the youngest of four brothers, the only eligible bachelor left. You two met in Egypt, he was financing an archeological dig and you were there on holiday. Nights spent filled with mutual lust and passion, I assume. He buys you an estate in the Mediterranean, where you spend the majority of the summer.” 
Your eyes slip close at the mention of Egypt, a time where you felt you could truly be yourself and not be on guard all the time. Marcus was delicate, thoughtful. He never questioned you about your past and was very encouraging about you wanting to pursue artistic hobbies. He was the one who taught you how to play pool. 
“Unfortunately, your summer was cut short when he was forced to return home and he decided to take you with him. He wanted to make you a part of the family but they knew all about you and decided that a two dollar whore from the slums of Brimingham who made her living spending long nights in the beds of men she did not know was not good enough for Marcus. You try so hard to fit in with that crowd, prancing around in your fancy gowns with your nose held up so high that you still can’t smell the shit on your shoe you’re tracking into their houses.” 
A rage you had learned to smother was bubbling beneath the brim of your being, a feeling you had never thought would be directed toward Tommy. You knew what he was doing, plunging a knife so deep into your heart and twisting until he got what he wanted out of you. It was all a mistake. You have been used over and over all your life. You were not going to be used by him, even if it cost you your life. 
You lick your lips which have since gone dry, forcing your face to return to stone. “It’s always a delight to see you, Mr. Shelby. Travel safely.” 
With that, you turn on your heels and exit the room in silent fury. A pair of observant eyes watch you from the stairs above, then switch to regard the back of Tommy as he leaves a few minutes after you. 
You normally spent most nights at the club but decided it’s worth it to leave and blow steam off at home, your head a jumbled mess. Everything Tommy said was true but what he didn’t know is that Marcus had told you his family made prior preparations for him to marry the daughter of a tycoon and that he had no say in the matter. You were silly enough to believe him. 
You were so caught up in what had just occurred that you hadn’t noticed you were being followed until a hand clamps over your mouth, a black hood shoved over your head. 
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Tommy watches absent-mindedly as the young woman slips back into her dress, dancing leisurely to the music coming out of the bar a few blocks down. The window was cracked and she was thankful, having put up with enough of Tommy’s smoking. He was on his third cigarette since they finished fucking and she was sure by the time she actually left, he would have finished half the pack. 
There’s a knock at the door and the woman stops to look at Thomas expectantly. He doesn’t move an inch but jerks his head near the sound. The woman is cautious as she opens it but cracks the door wider when it’s revealed to be a bellhop. 
“Delivery for 317.” 
The woman grabs the silver covered platter and thanks the boy. She smiles as she brings it over to Thomas. 
“Did you order me something special?” 
“No.” 
His bluntness doesn’t deter her, she simply shrugs and searches the vanity for her earrings. Tommy takes the lid off to uncover a note folded in half. 
The Royale. 8pm. 
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The hood is snatched off unceremoniously and suddenly you’re in the storage room of a butcher shop, in a chair with your hands tied behind your back. Some of the girls you used to run with when you were younger surround you, with Bobbi aka Big Red at the center. 
You give your best smile. “Ladies, are we starting a sewing circle? Book club? I hear Agatha’s new mystery is to die for.” 
The first punch comes from Janie on your left. You rock your jaw, hands straining against the rope. “I take it that you didn’t like the novel.” 
The second one is from Georgiana. The bitch. To think you were there for her when she found out her husband was screwing her sister. 
After the fourth punch, this one to your gut, you were beginning to get fed up. 
“Alright, does someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” 
“You’ve gotten too big for your britches, that’s what.” Big Red finally speaks up. She took over operations when the leader you knew, Mary, got locked up. Operations almost went to shit but you had to hand it to her, Bobbi knew how to run a tight ship. She wasn’t as popular with the women and laid down stricter rules. Several of which you had broken. 
“I don’t have time for riddles, Bobbi.” you chide. 
Bobbi snaps her finger and Georgiana brings a chair over so that Bobbi could sit in front of you. “I’ve been watching you for a while now, missy. When Mary put me in charge, I swore I’d keep her seat warm until she got out.” 
You tsk. “Last I checked, you squeezed your fat ass in her chair.” 
That earned you a hard punch. You needed to dial it back if you wanted to keep your face intact. 
“You’ve been fucking one of the Shelby’s.” Janie purrs, popping her gum obnoxiously. 
“Not just any Shelby, Thomas Shelby.” Georgiana tacks on. 
Big Red makes a motion with her fingers and the clucking chickens get quiet, always obedient for their mother hen. “You know fraternizing with a family like theirs is off limits. Do you know what could happen to us if you were caught with him? We struck a decent deal with Sabini and the last thing I need is for you to jeopardize everything we’ve worked for because you wanted to get your cunt licked.” 
You knew that a few girls were messing around with some men who worked for Sabini but you didn’t realize it had gotten so deep. Outside of Thomas and his boys in Birmingham, Sabini had the next biggest family in the area with a huge control over land. It wasn’t like anyone was stealing from them but nothing hurt men more than a broken heart and bruised ego. 
“Well, since you like spreading your legs for dirty men like Thomas, poppet, you’re gonna do us a huge favor and use that pretty little face of yours to sway him into staying another night in London. Get him to this location,” Bobbi stuffs a slip of paper down your bra. “We’ll handle the rest.”
Big Red puts your cheek tenderly before snapping her fingers. Georgiana and Janie descend on you like vultures and the only sound echoing through the room is muffled grunts of you getting your ass kicked. 
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Thomas flips out his pocket watch once more. 
8:22pm. 
It was unlike you to be late but he figured it was for good reasons. Women and their unnecessary grooming. Growing up around Ada and practically being raised by Polly got him used to being late for certain functions. The waiter enters again and Tommy is ready to refuse another offer on refilling his glass but stops once he sees that you’re being escorted in. 
You were mesmerizing. Your body was wrapped in red silk, the material caressing your figure in all the right places. White gloves covered your arms up to your elbows and the front of your dress drapes downward in a cowl design, showing a sufficient amount of cleavage to leave the wandering eye wanting more. To complete your ensemble, you wore a tilted hat with a veil to cover the majority of your face.
Thomas is a gentleman as he stands while you enter, only returning to his seat once you sit on your own. 
“You’re late.” 
You cock an eyebrow. “And yet, you’re still here.” 
As if the waiter was eagerly awaiting for you to take your seat, you barely have time to set down your purse before the first course is brought out. It looked decadent but your stomach was still rolling from earlier. You weren’t sure when your appetite would return. 
Thomas doesn’t touch his food either. “So, I take it you’ve changed your mind.” 
You take a long sip of wine, swishing the red liquid around the glass before knocking the rest of it back. “Something like that.” 
The cigarette makes an appearance. He lights it, waiting for you to continue. 
“Look at us. Both came from nothing and here we are. Eating at the finest restaurants, wearing the finest clothes, sitting at tables that otherwise we would’ve been shooed from. And for what? Money?” 
Thommy nods, almost as if you’d ask a rhetorical question. “Yes. Money, power, control. I’m taking care of my family just like you would take care of yours.” 
“I have no family.” you state, voice a whisper. 
“That’s why I’m asking you to be a part of mine.” 
The door to the private room swings open and the waiter appears, yet again. 
“For fucks sake!” Tommy yells at the poor fellow. 
“My apologies, Mr. Shelby but your other guests have arrived.” 
Tommy steals a quick glance at you. “I don’t have any other guests.”
You don’t dare turn around in your seat as the echo of numerous footsteps sound off, trailing from the hallway until they reach the dining area. 
“Well, well. Looks like the gang's all here.” 
The voice sends a chill down your spine. Amelio Sabini. He wasn’t head honcho but far enough up on the food chain for it to mean something. 
Tommy clears his throat and puts out his cigarette. He doesn’t stand. 
“What? No warm greeting for me or my brothers? Alright then.” 
The vultures descend on the table, squeezing in where they could and kicking their feet up. You recognize some of the women on their arms from the club. 
“Amelio. You’re interrupting my dinner.” 
“Really? Cause if I remember correctly, we were invited. I know you didn’t start eating without me, Tommy. That’s bad business.” 
“What’s bad business is discussing it in front of the women. You lot,” he points to the scantily clad girls. “Out.” 
The girls all cling to their men, throwing each other nervous glances. You envied them just a little. To be pretty and clueless. It wouldn’t get them very far though. 
Amelio gives a signal and they suck their teeth, sulking back out into the main part of the restaurant. You attempt to walk out with them but a goon keeps you firmly in your chair. 
“Where are you heading off to, puddin’? You’re the main dish.” 
“I take it you’re acquainted?” Tommy asks but you hear the condescending tone laced in the question. 
“She’s the one that invited us. Knows the Royale is my favorite. Have you tried the raspberry and chocolate souffle?” Amelio gives a chef's kiss. “Eccellente!” 
The men squabble as you mildly disassociate, understanding that this was going to end in one of two ways: you live or you die. And if you did die, Big Red was gonna get what’s coming to her, that’s for damn sure. 
Your small break from reality is abruptly ended when the cold metal of a pistol is shoved into your hands.
Your hands graze the gun, a once familiar object now feeling foreign.
“That’s it, pretty girl,” Amelio coos. “Let’s not draw this out any longer, eh? We all know how this ends. I don’t want to draw this out any further. Va bene?” 
You nod your head slowly, steadying your grip on the weapon. You aim the gun directly at Tommy, unblinking. “Sorry it had to happen this way.” 
Tommy gives a half shrug. “Likewise.” 
You’re quick to pull the trigger and watch as the bullet whizzes by Tommy’s head and glides straight into the neck of the waiter. The platter in his hands falls, the Beretta masked as the “souffle” tumbling to the ground. 
And just like that, the room cascades into a full out battle. Tommy wastes no time in grabbing his own gun and you throw yourself into the heat of action, taking out two more of Amelio’s men before you get clipped in the left arm. You throw yourself down on the ground in search of cover. 
Arthur and the other Blinders crowd in from the kitchen, helping Tommy to clear out the room. Finn is careful as he drags you towards the back door, where a car is waiting. 
“We can’t just leave them there!” you scream through the searing pain. 
“They’ll be fine, trust me!”
Before you could argue your point further, the doors to the car get slammed shut and you’re whisked away from the scene. 
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Making it back to a small office Tommy owned was nothing short of a miracle. You had never seen or been a part of such a gunfight. However, it wasn’t the shooting that pissed you off. 
“I know this was your idea.” you murmur, wincing as Tommy pours more alcohol in your wound. 
“I told Big Red to persuade you, didn’t know that meant leaving you with a bruised eye.” Tommy says, double checking to make sure he cleaned the graze thoroughly. 
You shake your head. “She’s got it out for me, apparently. You could’ve just asked-” 
“I did ask you. This was reassurance.” 
You pull away from his touch, a disapproving look etched into your face. “It’s like you don’t even trust me! We’re cut from the same cloth, remember?” 
Tommy puts away the whiskey, reaching around you to grab at the gauze. He wraps it around your arm tenderly. Satisfied with his work, he takes a pack of smokes out of his pocket, tucking one between his lips. 
He saddles up to where you’re perched on his desk, spreading your legs to stand between them.
“I never doubted you once. There were things that needed to be in place and I wanted to make sure it happened.” 
The deep pools of his eyes drag you under and once again, you find yourself pulled into his orbit. No matter how hard your gut alerts you to the dangers of falling in love with Thomas Shelby, you ignore the blaring alarms and steel yourself. He wasn’t like the others, happy to parade you around on their arm like some sort of trophy. You had a mind, a working spirit that was hard to break and a reputation to uphold. You didn’t want to be the dainty, seen but not heard wife. 
You wanted to be his equal. 
Plucking the cigarette from his lips, you take a quick puff from it, exhaling slowly. “I should go.” 
“I’ve arranged for John to take you to the hotel. We didn’t have much time to grab clothing from your place but I can have Pol take you shopping tomorrow, if you’d like.” 
“You got me a room?” 
Tommy chuckles slightly at the question, demeanor unwavering as he takes a small metal item from his pocket, flipping it in-between his fingers like you’ve seen him do many times before with a coin. 
“I got us a suite.” 
You stare at the key, understanding that it signified much more than a cozy night in. Accepting this key and going to see him meant that you were tethering yourself to a man you swore was just casual. You weren’t sure if you were ready for that level of commitment. 
He pries your hand open, setting the room key in it before closing it gently. Nearly forgetting how to breathe, your eyes flutter close as Tommy seals the deal with a kiss. 
He runs a lone finger down your cheek, his own lips plump with the sheen of your affections. 
“My proposal still stands.” 
Tommy says nothing else as he exits the office, doors groaning in protest at his departure. You open up your hand again. Would you still remain the Duchess or become a Queen?
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angelicnymph · 3 hours
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🌶Manwh0re Toji Fushiguro Private Show 🌶
💌Support Me💌 ♡ 🧁Masterlist🧁 ♡ 💞Exclusive Content 💞
Cw: Sexual content, pornography, onlyfans,male stripper, exhibitionism, gropping, public sex, orgy.
🌸This will be a spicy series with multiple part- some will be posted here for FREE and some will be posted on Kofi available on for my donators. 🌸
🌸Disclaimer: In this Series, Toji is in his early twenties and a bachelor. Its just that Toji Fushiguro is more pleasing than Toji Zenin.
Kindly please support me by likes and reblogs please. It helps so much. Thank you. 💌
Toji was a well-known male adult entertainer. He was known for his videos on the orange and black site as well as his 0nlyf@ns. After all, he was the website's highest paid model. He was recently in Las Vegas where he was invited for a private show which he would be highly paid for.
Within only 2 minutes, all the tickets to his show was sold. His fangirls were surely an another breed. They could pour their entire pocket money/salary on him just to get a glimpse of his body and Toji knew how to take advantage of them.
Within minutes, the hall in which he was supposed to perform gets filled. VIP seats in the front row close to the stage, followed by Gold seats on the 2nd row, Silver seat on the 3rd row and bronze seat at the very back. The price of the tickets were ridiculously expensive but the thirst got the best out of his fans. $1000 for a single bronze seat in which you can only watch him from the very back of the hall? The fans kept on cheering for him tho no matter what. Excited for his appearance and performance.
The man finally comes on stage in his bathrobe, loosely clad to his body, chest out and barely covering his thighs, a cocky grin plastered to his face. He tease his fans by removing only the top half and covering only his lower half earning howls and begs from the crowd. He then turns around and discard the bathrobe and presenting his body with only in a skimpy underwear which covers his c0ck fully but leaves his muscular @ss exposed, 0iled up and holding his cr0tch giving his c0ck a few rübs and squeezes.
He proceeds to hump the stage and then gets up, his c0ck now fully härd peeking out of the underwear. He goes in front of a lucky girl and allows her to take it off him. The crowd cheer as he has a cocky grin on his face loving the attention. He starts w@nking off and hipthrusting the air, flopping his härd 0n loving the reaction of his audience. He then grabs a fle$hlight and starts pleasing himself letting out occasional grünts giving his thirsty fangirls an e@rgasm.
The show continues as the VIP ticket owners get to touch him, grab his t!tties, his c0ck, giving him h@ndj0bs, bl0wj0bs, p!nching his p!erced n!pples, running hands over his hard abs and quads. Needless to say, the man was in heaven even if it was for a brief hour. He wished he could stay like this forever, getting girls to worship his body, pleasuring him. He kept cûmm!ng and having his eyes roll to the back of his loving the touches, occasionally grunting.
The show ends with 2 lucky girls from the VIP 0n t0p of him: one r!dding h!s f@ce and the other riding his c0ck. Once the three are done, the girls are returned back to their seats. Toji once again hümp his 0verst!mulated c0ck on the stage, till he gets one final bl0w and then gets up , asking his fans to take last pictures before he heads to the backstage where another group of girls is waiting him.
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lollytea · 14 days
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I need to watch Sharpay's Fabulous Adventure to reach my final conclusion on if she's even attracted to men
#girl help i keep thinking about sharpay and ryan being each others only friend growing up#theyre not very good at interpersonal relationships#romance is foreign to them. they dont care about playing romantic interests because they only view romance through the lens of theatre#fake. not real. an act to entertain an audience. so they dont understand why it would be weird#neither of them have ever kissed anyone#sharpay likes things that make her look better#because her whole life is a performance#so she wants troy because hes a shiny accessory to her#thinking about hsm 2 where once again when she tries to perform a romantic song (with troy this time and not her brother)#she still barely fucking looks at him#all of her attention is on the (nonexistent) audience#and ryan. ryan hm#ryan usually performs alongside sharpay#its usually an in universe performance. theyre on a stage. theres an audience#and all of his attention is on pleasing that audience#an exception to this is during the gay baseball song#where theres a different kind of audience BUT#ryan barely looks at them#most of his attention is directed solely to chad#talking flirting teasing being cocky and annoying but clearly addressing him directly through most of the song#first time this has happened with ryan. take that as you will#ANYWAY i can see sharpay as completely uninterested in romance but she hasnt realized that about herself#and she THINKS she wants it. because she sees it as glamorous#or maybe shes a lesbian i dont know#she might be a lesbian#the deciding factor is sharpays fabulous adventure#if she has chemistry with the guy in that movie then shes just repressed and clueless#if she doesnt shes aro#or possibly lesbian
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taylor-titmouse · 2 months
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hey i want to talk about how you should be promoting your work as an erotic author/illustrator
i'm writing this up because the marketing aspect of my work as an erotic author/illustrator is a science to me, and also because i'm the guy who gets unreasonably annoyed when i see other creators not properly advertising their work. you presumably want to make money off your work. this post will be written under the assumption you want to make money off your work but are doing a bad job at it. it will be very confrontational. if you read this and feel attacked you're right and i am attacking you.
this is geared toward selling erotic comics/writing/books/art as products. i will probably write more than one post about this subject so if i didn't touch on something you want to know more about, comment/send me an ask and i'll keep it in mind for the next one.
i will start with my first and least specific but most important point:
DON'T GET FUCKING CUTE
hi are you paying attention. i'm gripping you by the sides of your face. do not get fucking cute with what you are trying to sell. you are not a big enough property to get cute, nobody LIKES it when big properties get cute, and you are selling porn. you have to own this. you have to be up front about this. don't be tongue in cheek, don't be all teehee i wonder what this could be~, don't be secretive. you are selling a product. you have to fucking act like it. you are an adult selling pornography to other adults. i am GRIPPING your HEAD you NEED to understand this.
and to be clear when i say 'cute' i mean coy. i don't mean cutesy, as in the aesthetic. you can be as hello kitty pastel ten emojis a post uwu as you like when you're building your audience and generating hype. but when you start trying to sell, don't be vague, don't be sarcastic, don't mislabel your work as a joke and assume everyone is on it. because they're not.
you must always assume 75% of the people seeing the thing you are advertising have no fucking idea who you are. and that includes a huge chunk of the people who already follow you. they do not know who you are or what you've been working on for two months or why they should care about it. they just got here. somebody just reposted it. they are seeing it for the first time. most people are only looking at social media for a tiny chunk of their day. they are not keeping up with you. you cannot get cute about what you are trying to sell because nobody knows what it is until you tell them.
okay are you still with me. we are going to talk about clarity now.
YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT IT IS
good lord the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's comic or book and had no idea what's actually in it or what it's about. who are the characters? why should i care about them? what do they do in it? what is the premise of this thing you want me to spend $5 on? why would you not tell me? i'm shaking you again. please i have to know what i'm buying i only have so much money to spend on porn.
porn, arguably more than any other genre, relies on knowing exactly what is in it. you do not want to surprise your readers with a kink they were unaware of! and on the flip side, you do not want to miss out on your target audience! if your book contains a hot spider babe laying eggs in an elf, you have to say so. not just so people who don't want to read about eggs know it isn't for them, but so the people who are egg crazy can see that and go "oh fuck YES i love EGGS here is my $5 and an extra $2 tip for catering to me specifically". a contents/features list is as much an advertisement as it is a warning!
as for re: who the characters are and why should i care, i'm sorry but you need to learn how to write sales copy. you have to write blurbs. you have to get good at the shit that goes on the back of a book. we all hate it but we have to do it. i want to know who the characters are and what the context is. i, personally, am not interested in contemporary stories as much as fantasy and historical. please tell me what genre this porn exists in so i know if it aesthetically appeals to me. pull some books off your shelves and see how they do it. hell man go look at mine.
while you're there, note that every single book of mine has a sample of what's in it. this feels like such a no-brainer to me but again! the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's work and they don't show me what their work looks like! you gotta give me the first page or two! just enough that i know if i like the way your writing sounds, or the way you draw your comics! i don't know you! i am not going to trust that you're good at what you do just based on a cover. the cover is to get me to this step, it is not the only step. you have to show me that you're worth spending my money on!
to put it less cynically, you want to catch my interest. you want me to go 'oh i want to see more of this', you want me to go 'ahh i want to know where this goes!' you need to get me invested and craving more. earn my $5!!!
YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT EASY TO GIVE YOU MONEY
hey go look at your bio right now. go look at your pinned post. do you have a link to your patreon there? do you have a link to your itchio/gumroad/whatever? do i have to click more than once to get to the places you want me to go to give you money? why? why are you making me click twice? have we learned nothing from every website making you click an extra time when they make some stupid UI update and how much it pisses us off? i have already given up, i have forgotten you, i am not giving you my $5 today. put your links in the easiest places to get to them.
god literally as i was writing this post i went to go find somebody's itchio to see how they described their work and it was not anywhere on their profile. grabbing you and shaking you PUT THE LINK WHERE I CAN FIND IT. don't make it hard! make it easy! i am a dickhead sitting on the toilet scrolling, saw your post, and was interested enough to read further. but you made me go to your bio to find your linktree and oops i have already gone back to my timeline to look at the boobies in the next post. stop wasting precious bio space on DNIs and put your fuckin links there!!!
this is more for the twitter people, but: just put the link in the damn post. just say the word commission. just say it's for patreon. "wuh wuh the algorithm" it is not the damn algorithm it's that everybody hates advertising and nobody wants to retweet ads. putting slashes in the words doesn't do anything and you look like a fool. i have posted so much art that says it's 'a commission for ___" and it did exactly as good as any other art despite having the word commission in it. and by doing the slashes you just made it impossible for anybody to search your account for your commission information (which should be at the VERY LEAST in a post under your pinned tweet if you're not actively posting about them being open).
okay that went on a tangent i'm going to back to the point of putting the link in the tweet. put it in the first post. not in the first reply. don't tell them to go to your bio. put it in the post people are actually going to share. it's fine to put more information in the thread but people are only ever going to share the first post. so put the link there. you have to make it easy. putting links in tweets can hurt you algorithmically, even in the replies. so you're better off having it in the post that actually gets seen and shared. i don't want to open the tweet and scroll to get to your sales page where i ASSUME you will have put all the information anyway. put it in the tweet that just got retweeted by itself onto my dash!
also you have to share it a ton of times. i repost my shit every few hours when i'm trying to push a new product. as i said before people are not 24/7 looking at their timelines. they missed it the first time. they missed it the second time. they didn't get paid yet that week but they were after the eighth time and you reminded them again so they finally bought it. that i will still get sales every time i repost a book ad weeks after release says there are always people who missed it, or who only just showed up.
abandon your pride and shill. shills pay their bills. anyone who gets annoyed about it isn't giving you money in the first place. don't worry about looking like a sell out. don't apologize for plugging your own work. post about it often, post about it in different ways. post about it. post about it. you are not going to make money if people don't know you have something to sell them. if you want to make a career out of it, you need to act like it.
I DON'T HAVE A FOURTH POINT
kisses your forehead. i'm sorry for yelling at you. i've been making and publishing and selling adult art for the past two-three years and have got myself to the point where it pays my rent, and i got there by paying attention to what does and does not work.
please do your best to make money. i want you to make money.
as i said above i plan to write more posts on this subject, such as cover design, how to actually write sales copy, and best practices with running a patreon, but if there's things you would want to hear more about leave a comment or send an ask! i will probably be less aggressive on future topics. these are just things that have grinded my gears for a grip.
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remuslupinslittleslut · 6 months
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Poly!Marauders x Reader - First time
Poly!Marauders x Reader, it's her first time and they're all helping out. Also, it's so On Brand for James Potter to come in his pants while eating pussy. I love this man.
“So, you’re saying you’ve never… done it?” Sirius asks, looking at Y/N questioningly.
“Nice way to put it, Pads”, scolded Remus, reaching out to touch the cheek of their girlfriend.
“Uh, yeah, I guess”, she starts, “I mean, I’ve done… some stuff? But not, like, all of it?”
The boys share a look of… something new. Soon, three sets of hands are touching her, rubbing her thighs, arms, and sides.
“Do you… want to? With us?” Asks James, rubbing circles with his thumbs on her arms.
She’s playing with her hands in her lap, feeling her heart racing. Excitement started to take over the nervousness that had previously filled her body. She did want it, badly, but she was unsure of how to initiate, not knowing what was okay or how to best go about it.
“Yeah” she says, looking into James’ eyes, “Yeah, I want to.”
***
Not long after, she’s sitting against the headboard, back pressed against Sirius’ chest, lips locked with Remus and James’ lips kissing down her legs. They had promised to take the best of care of her, and she really could feel it, the love that encompassed her in this position. The arms of Sirius, wrapped around her waist, started to sneak under the fabric of her shirt, as Remus’ hands teased her nipples through the shirt.
“Baby, can I unbutton this?” Sirius asks from behind her, lips trailing kisses down her neck, leading to Remus receiving a moan in his mouth before she nods, telling the man behind her that yes he can.
Hands are running up her legs, rubbing at her thighs, sending shivers down her spine as her shirt finally comes undone, baring her tits for her little audience.
“So pretty, love”, murmurs Remus, sitting back and taking in the view.
James, too, leans up on his elbows to look at her, basking in her beauty, “Yeah babe, so pretty,” making her shy away from all the attention, trying to hide her face in Sirius’ hair.
“How’re you feeling, pretty girl?” Sirius asks her, reaching to grab at her pretty tits, feeling her arch her back against his chest.
“Uh huh, so good”, Y/N whines, feeling James’ hands creeping up her thighs, followed by his mouth, kissing, biting and nibbling at the skin. Her moans rise an octave as his hands reach the very top of her legs, fingers nudging her underwear.
“May I?” His glasses are completely askew and he’s looking up at her with wide eyes, shiny with anticipation, and when she nods he reaches all the way, rubbing at her clit through her panties, “How’s that feel baby?”
“Good, so good”, she’s getting whiny, the feeling of all three of them becoming overwhelming, “Remmy please, wanna feel you, kiss me?” And how could he ever say no to that? Leaning back down, he places one hand on her cheek, angling her face to be able to kiss her.
James taps her hips, indicating for her to lift so that he can pull her undies down, “Oh she’s so pretty”, he says, “Pretty little pussy… Pads, help me keep her legs open.” His friend complies, using his own legs to keep hers open, hands still running up and down her waist, sometimes coming up to grab at her tits.
Sploshy sounds fill the room as James’s lips stay locked against her wet pussy, his hips moving to rub himself against the mattress. Remus pulls away, again, “Do you like that, pretty girl? You like James eating your sweet cunt?” He asks, rubbing a thumb against her red and swollen lips, “I think you should put this pretty mouth to good use as well, don’t you?”
The question makes her blush a deep red, but she does think that so she nods, feeling that nervousness creep up again, but before she can think any more of it, Remus’ trousers and pants are off and he’s placing his hard, pink tipped cock right in her face. “Open up, baby”, he says, poking her lips with the head.
The taste is a bit strange, she thinks, salty and tangy, but not bad. She starts by licking around the tip, before opening up more to let him further in her mouth. At the same time, James’s fingers are working tirelessly against her clit, while his tongue licks around her hole, making her moan and whimper around Remus’ cock.
Remus has a firm hold around her neck, not really squeezing, just holding her in place as he lightly thrusts his hips, careful not to choke her. “So good, baby, such a sweet little mouth, yeah?” Her eyes open, looking up at him, “Yeah, you’re just made to take cock like this.”
In between her legs, James switches position, fingers plunging into her leaking hole, tongue rubbing circles on her sensitive bud. Her legs try to close, but Sirius’ legs keep her open for his friend, letting him feast on their girlfriend, while their other boyfriend fills her mouth. He can feel her getting closer, noticing how she gets more twitchy in the legs and her mouth turns slack around Remus. “So good, love, you can let go now, yeah just like that, let go, come all over James’ face, just like that, good girl”, Sirius is telling her to let go, and that with the praise sends her straight over the edge, juices flooding, covering James. Remus pulls out of her mouth, letting her breathe, and takes Sirius hand, bringing it to his cock. Watching their girl come, one of his boyfriends jerking his cock, Remus can’t do much but come, covering her chest in hot, white liquid.
“Jamie, please stop”, her hands go to his hair, pulling him off, “‘s too much, please.” He pulls away, face wet with her slick, and he looks sheepishly up at his three partners as they all notice the wet patch on his legs.
“Can you take more?” Asks Remus, coming down from his own orgasm. She nods, whimpering a simple yeah, “Good girl, then I think it’s about time Padfoot gets his turn with you, yeah?” Her eyes widen, but soon she’s turning in the lap of the aforementioned boy.
“Hi baby”, he says, finally facing her. Arms around her waist, holding her close
“Hey…”, her head nuzzling into the crook of his neck, smelling his hair, breathing it in.
“Gonna fuck you now, yeah? Gonna make you feel so good”, his hands reach down, grabbing her ass, spreading her cheeks slightly, “up a lil for me” he commands, and she raises herself up on her thighs, hovering over his lap. He frees himself from his pants, tugging himself a few times, “Allright, baby, now come down for me.” One hand on himself, the other on her hips, he aligns himself with her hole, letting her down, filling her up. They both moan at the intrusion, his eyes raising to look over her shoulder at their two boyfriends, eagerly watching the pair.
Sirius moves down a bit, laying down, letting her face stay in the place where his neck meets his shoulder, folding his legs and thrusting up into her. He winces as she bites his shoulder, in a desperate try not to scream out loud.
“Is this okay, baby?” He asks, warm hands rubbing her backside.
“Yeah, ‘s good, so good.” She feels like she’s on fire, her hole being perfectly stretched, g-spot consistently hit. It’s a new sensation, different from James’ fingers. When Sirius starts thrusting faster, holding onto her arse, practically splitting her in two, she goes into a very different headspace. It’s so good, so, so good, but also so so much and soon she’s coming, again, walls clamping down on Sirius’ cock, moans slipping from her mouth, stuck to her throat.
“Fuck, babe, you’re so good, so tight, love this little hole”, he’s, once again, whispering very dirty words in her ear, chasing his own orgasm. “Ah, huh, Siri, fuck, ah, please”, she’s whiny, moaning and whimpering, small hands clamping down on his upper arms, holding on for dear life.
“Ah that’s it, love, gonna come now, gonna fill you up”, and he does, and it’s amazing, yet another completely new sensation, sending her over the edge for a third time.
“Good job baby, took us all so well” “Yeah love, you did so well for us, gonna let you rest now”
“‘M gonna clean you up a lil, you just lay here though, such a good girl”
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hyuckmov · 9 months
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haechan — settle down (rockstar hyuck) | part 1 of 3
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wc: 22k (!!!!!!!) genre: angst, smut (18+ minors dni), fluff warnings: loss of virginity, very soft sex (hand-holding during sex), lots of kissing, protected sex, haechan fucks...a lot, fingering, oral (f receiving), very faint corruption kink, JEALOUSY, possessiveness (marking, signing on your body), handjob, car sex, cumplay, spit, exhibitionism (!), slight dumbification, slight degradation, titty-sucking etc, sweet aftercare a/n: i worked a lot on this and i really hope u like it.... i really hope it's hot... i hope u like rockstar haechan...please let me know what u think... (fic playlists) | browse the fic tag :)
he's been staring at you all night.
the bass thrums insistent in your chest, overriding your heartbeat, as you cling onto the barrier between the stage and the crowd. lights flash before your eyes, almost blinding you with how fast they blinked, and you can barely make out the faces of the boys onstage as they play their last song of the night. the air is damp, excitement riding high over the crowd in waves of endless screams that never seem to stop. 
and the boy on the far right, fingers moving deftly over the strings of his electric guitar, hasn't taken his eyes off you for the last five minutes. 
a sharp smile tugs at his lips, smokey makeup making his gaze ever more piercing as he looks down at you through his overgrown bangs, hairs at the nape of his neck unruly and wild. the lights throw the features of his face into high contrast, the tattoos curling on his neck and hip screaming for attention, as do the glint of jewelry scattered everywhere on his body. you feel smaller and smaller under his gaze, something lewd about the way he runs his tongue over his lips, eyes practically undressing you. he never seemed to stop moving his body as he played, bouncing on his toes or letting his body lean away from the sound, the music fuelling and becoming one with his movements as if he were a dancer.
as the music crashes and swells towards the end of his solo, his eyes slide over to yours with a practiced precision, as if he had memorized your position in the crowd. swaying his hips from side to side, his eyelids droop just slightly into a half-lidded stare, as he ruts his hips playfully against his guitar. 
the screams of the other fans are deafening, but you can hardly hear it over the rush of your heartbeat in your own ears.
haechan finally looks away, a small smile on his face as he signals to his bandmates towards the song's ending. you feel almost empty as the weight of his attention lifts off of you, pressing yourself up against the railing on tip-toe to try and catch his eye again before sinking down and feeling like an idiot. 
he was just doing fanservice for an audience member, nothing more. you try not to find his actions endearing as he slings his arm around the lead singer, mark, his surprisingly boyish laugh making your heart flutter in your chest as he waves towards his fans one more time. 
people are leaving the venue, the sounds of their excitement getting further and further away, but you stand there, reeling, clutching onto the metal barrier, sure that if you took your hands off it you would fall. finally, glancing up at the stage one last time, you're just about to leave to find your friend, the only reason you were even here, when –
"leaving so soon?" 
the boy is sitting on the stage right in front of you, leaning forward so you can see his face clearly. up close, he's even prettier than before, delicate almost doll-like legs wrapped under ripped skinny jeans, leading up to thick and toned thighs, his slender waist shadowed under his large leather jacket ridden with buckles and straps. without the bright stage lights, you can see the moles on his skin, tracing a dangerous path under the collar of his shirt. 
at your lack of response, he raises his eyebrows. "i asked if you were leaving, princess." 
"i have to find my friend," the words come out rushed. "um…jaemin? your band hired him tonight as the photographer." 
"i remember," he nods. "so…you're not a fan?" 
"no." he nods, silence filling the space between the both of you. you can see him start to formulate a goodbye, his heart-shaped lips parting, but you don't want the conversation to end, you don't want him to stop looking at you. "- but…i really enjoyed your show." 
he looks a little surprised, and a genuine smile spreads sweetly across his face. "why?" he challenges. 
"what?" 
"what did you like about our show?" his eyes glint, and you know he's teasing you. 
"the songs were good," you mumble. 
"yeah?" he licks his lips, a slight hint of nervousness showing on his face as he clears his throat. "who was your favorite member?" 
"huh?" 
"your favorite band member," he repeats, tilting his head to the side. "jeno, he's our drummer, mark's the lead singer, jisung plays bass and i…" he waves his hand absentmindedly towards his guitar, on the stand, still onstage behind him. "i'm haechan," he adds. 
if you wanted to get to know him, it wouldn't hurt to show a little of exactly how much you liked him, would it? "you were my favorite," you admit. "you…you have really good stage presence," you blurt out. 
"stage presence?" 
"yeah. when i'm in the crowd…i can't really pay attention to anything else. and you…" you swallow, heat burning up your cheeks, but the way his eyes were looking at you with curiosity making you finish your thought. "you make the audience feel like they want to please you." the unspoken truth, that you, as part of the audience, wanted to please him, hangs in the air. 
your embarrassment, at saying something so suggestive and raw, is quickly washed away by the smile tugging at the corner of his lip, a smirk that quickly spreads across his face into a grin. you're so mesmerized by it, that you're taken aback by the way he suddenly shifts, hopping down the stage lightly and standing in front of you. 
"princess," he says, softly, placing his hands on the railing next to yours so the sides of your fingers barely brush. "do you want to come to a party?" 
you resist the urge to immediately say yes. "what party?" 
"there's one after every show. jaemin will have been invited, he can take you." the venue has emptied out, even his bandmates have left the stage. and yet, his voice is pitched low as he leans in, body warmth radiating off of him, and you are so close, you can see the smudged eyeliner on his lower lash line, can make out the grey of his colored contact lenses. "you can find me there." 
"but…" you feel lost. "why can't you just take me?" 
"if we show up together, it'll seem a little like we're dating, no?" his voice is quiet, but firm. 
hurt and confusion blossoms in your chest. was it really that serious? keeping your voice as nonchalant as possible, you ask, "would that be so bad? for…for us to date?”
but you know it's the wrong thing to say. 
he exhales slowly, a brief look of pain flitting over his features. he hated doing this, hated reaching the point in conversations where rules and boundaries had to be discussed. nights where he found his girls at the party were the easiest, letting body language and long glances do the talking, as few strings attached as possible. 
but today he couldn't stop looking at you, in the front row, couldn't help sliding his eyes over and checking to see if you were watching him, a pleased thrum burning in his chest every time his gaze found yours. it seemed logical, to spend his time with you tonight. but if he'd known you'd felt like this, he never would have waited onstage. 
"what's your name, princess?" 
"y/n."
"y/n, i'm not making you my girlfriend," he states, bluntly. "i can't, and i don't want to. you can meet me at the party later, but we'll just fuck – nothing else." 
his words make you feel small, his tone harsh compared to his previous meandering way of speaking. even then, the thought of letting him walk away, to never see him again, to end this story on this moment, made you feel worse than anything.  
at the look on your face, he softens slightly. 
"i'm sorry if you thought this was going to be more," he says, quietly. "you don't have to do anything you don't want to." 
"i do," you correct him. frustrated, he sighs, and you rush to clarify. "i'll meet you at the party. just…nothing else." your end off hesitantly, unwilling to echo his crude words.
"are you sure?" you think you see his gaze darken, the tension suddenly heightening as he places one of his large hands over your own. his guitar-calloused fingertips are rough as they slide against the back of your hand, drawing shapes that burn into your skin like tattoos. you nod, but he shakes his head — slowly, sweetly patient. "i need to hear you say it," he murmurs, and the words go straight to your gut. 
"i'm sure." your voice comes out as a whisper, but he doesn't seem to mind. he leans in, and just when you think your lips are going to meet, your mouth parting expectantly, he tilts his head and kisses you softly on your cheek. 
"make sure no one sees you, princess," he murmurs, low in your ear, before straightening up. "don't make me wait too long, hm?" 
"did anyone follow you up here?" 
haechan sits with his legs hanging off the edge of the roof, arms slung over one of the lower rungs of the railing. he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes another drink from his bottle of red wine, knowing that you're hanging onto his every word. 
"no," you reply, voice barely louder than a whisper. you repeat yourself again, louder, hating the way your voice shakes with hesitance. "no, i don't think so." 
he exhales, shrugging off the leather jacket that hangs large over his frame, his shoulderblades moving under his white shirt, veiny arms pushing the bottle to the side as he shifts himself backwards fluidly so he's further away from the ledge, his long legs stretched out. 
"well?" and now he turns to look at you, dark eyes framed with makeup searching for yours, his gaze heavy. the piercing on his eyebrow glints in the moonlight, and when he leans his weight back on his hands, his shirt rides up so that you can see just the hint of a tattoo curling low on his hip. "are you ready?" 
feet unsteady, you shuffle over to him, standing over him as he watches you through hooded eyes. unsure, you start to sit down next to him, but a hand quickly reaches out to touch your knee, dragging his touch up the back of your thigh, the cold scrape of his rings on your skin feeling rough and claiming all at once. his lips part almost mockingly, commanding you without words to stop. 
he flicks his gaze down to his lap, eyes flickering back up to yours. eyebrows raised, as if in a challenge.
slowly, you lower yourself onto his lap, hands hesitantly grasping for his shoulders. his arms come to steady your waist, slipping under your shirt and touching bare skin, feeling the way your body shifts and moves. it's only because your body is pressed up against his, his hands are roaming up and down your thighs, that he notices something which makes him halt his movements, licking his lips. 
"you're shaking," he murmurs, now brushing the hair out of your eyes, tucking a strand behind your ear as he studies you, taking in the way you're all tensed up, the uncomfortable way your legs are folded, goosebumps erupting every time his fingertips brushed your skin, muscles trembling.
you swallow. "i've never done this before," you admit. 
his eyes widen, now removing his hands from you entirely, letting them fall. "you're a virgin?" 
you nod, heart pounding in your chest. he's looking away, his jaw set, his gaze hardened. did he hate that you had no experience? or would he enjoy that? "i can…" the words come out in a jumble, "you can teach me, i want… i want to-" 
"no." with surprising gentleness, he motions for you to move off his lap, and you follow his actions mindlessly, docile under his touch. 
"do you think i won't be good enough?" you ask, hating the way your voice comes out wounded and achy, hating how weak he made you. 
he pauses, tongue poking into the side of his cheek, and you think you can see a flash of something deep in his eyes. 
"y/n…i can't be your first time." 
"but i want –" 
"you need to be with someone who will take care of you." despite his words, his voice is cold, and clear. "i don't do that." he dusts off his jacket, shrugging it back on as he takes another drink from the bottle, eyes closed, unwilling to look at you for another second. "go home, y/n. i'll see you at the next show." 
you don't move. you kneel there, next to him, eyes desperately searching for his. 
"go home, y/n," he repeats, harshly. 
"i want to stay here," you bite back, stubbornly, hurt making your voice brittle. 
"then you'll have to watch me fuck someone else." lazily, he reaches into the pocket of his jacket for his phone, and you can see him scroll through his messages, faces and names blurring as you barely decipher him type out another message. his fingers moving across the keyboard, as the anonymous responder sends a series of heart emojis, eagerness palpable through the screen. he locks his phone, the click sound startling you out of your daze, and he puts his phone down on his lap, the action somehow mocking.
"so?" he's still not looking at you, staring straight ahead into the night. "do you want to watch?" 
and as you make your way down the stairs, shame burning at your neck and tears burning hot down your cheeks, you can swear you feel his eyes follow you all the way down. 
the feeling of embarrassment curdles in your stomach, and leaves a sour taste in your mouth every time you look in the mirror. it's what leads you to skip the next show, making an excuse to jaemin about 'having other plans'. and then the other, and then the other. and then it's been a week, and your friend has finally managed to drag you to one of their after-parties, pushing you through the door with a little too much enthusiasm. he knows something is bothering you, and he wants nothing more than to help take your mind off of it — but he has no idea that the something is currently leaning against the archway leading off into the living room, nursing a bottle of beer in his hands, and brushing his hands around some girl's waist in a way that made you feel sick. 
jaemin introduces you to mark, out on the balcony. mark is sweet, and friendly, a regular boy-next-door who happens to have face gems twinkling next to his eyes and leather pants tight around his thighs. he asks you about college, and work. he talks about the songs he's writing on his guitar. he catches your drink when you almost drop it over the railing, an easy smile on his face when his fingers brush yours passing it back to you, and a shy grin when he reaches out to lace his fingers with yours properly.
"i'm really busy, but i'd love to talk to you more," he says, sincerely, as he takes your phone from your hands to key in his number. he texts himself so his contact is at the top of your messages, making you promise to text him when you get back. he looks at you meaningfully, squeezing your hand before dropping it to go back to his party. 
there's a moment, where you think to follow. 
but then all of it – every touch, every glance, every speck of light you counted reflected in marks' wide eyes, — all of it is wiped clean the moment you hear a familiar low voice.
"trying to get with my friends now, princess?" 
when the light illuminates his silhouette, hurt registers before anything else. 
hickeys bloom across the side of haechan's neck, trailing down to his chest. only a simple mesh top lies underneath his leather jacket, and you can see the shadows of a few more bruises on his torso when his arm shifts, tugging the jacket open just slightly. his hair is a mess, tugged this way and that by desperate hands, and you think there may be a smear of bright pink lipstick at the corner of his lips. you can smell the reek of flowery perfume, cloyingly sweet, all over his clothes, as he leans back against the railing, eyes turned towards the party happening behind the sliding glass doors.
"i thought you said i was your favorite band member," he murmurs, a mock expression of sadness on his face. "mark's nothing like me." 
"why do you care?" you will yourself to sound more confident, letting the hurt dissolve into defiance. 
"i don't." the pout has melted off his face, a burning intensity now in the way he stares at you, making you shift uncomfortably. a moment passes, where he studies your face, eyes flicking across your features almost methodically. "so am i?" 
"what?" 
"am i still your favorite?" his voice is bitter, as if he knows the answer before asking and he doesn't like it. 
"are you seriously asking me that?" 
"princess –"
he's interrupted by a chime from your phone. the both of you glance down at it at the same time, the text and the sender unmistakeable on your otherwise empty lockscreen. 
mark <3 : thanks for talking to me today :) let me know when you get home safe! 
there's a pause. 
"mark has a girlfriend," haechan blurts out, his voice coarse. 
"what?" you look up at him, trying to figure out if this was a joke, but his face is impassive. 
"he cheats on her all the time with girls from his parties. it's his thing." haechan's still looking at your screen even though your phone has turned off, resolutely not meeting your eyes. 
it takes you a moment to gather yourself, every one of mark‘s actions and words suddenly flashing before you like a flipbook, sweet memories crumpling into dust. "are you lying?" you ask, shakily. 
"why would i?" he finishes his beer, veins shifting on the back of his hand as he crushes the empty can, the crunch of metal dissonant against the warm summer night. his next words are just as rough. "whether or not you get with mark means nothing to me. i don't care. i don't even know you." 
his words ring true, as he pushes off from the railing, leaving you alone on the balcony without another word. the abrupt end to the conversation has you turning, eyes following him as he steps back into the party, looking away a little too late as you see him gesture someone over with a flick of his fingers, her long hair covering both their faces when their lips meet. 
jaemin finds you crying on the balcony, but he can't figure out the reason. you delete mark's contact off your phone the moment you get home, and jaemin promises you he's never taking you to any other show or party with the band ever again. 
"there should be an empty room somewhere." the man lets go of your hand, at the foot of the stairs. "can you wait for me inside one? i'll find you in a minute." 
it's only when you're halfway upstairs, when you realise that you're really about to give yourself to a stranger for your first time. 
he has a bright smile, sweet dimples showing each time his lips turn upwards, each time he calls you baby. he's not much older than you, but there's an easy authority in the way he takes your cup from your hands and tells you to stop drinking, getting you glasses of water instead. his body dwarfs yours in size, and when you put your hand on his thigh, you see something shift in his expression that tells you he may not be as gentle as he seems. 
and when you tell him he'll be your first time, his throat bobs as he swallows, eyes dragging up and down your body with a newfound hunger. 
you've never really cared about who you lost your virginity to, not considering it a big occassion or anything to make a fuss over. your mind flits back to two weeks ago, when some boy had cared way more about it than you did. 
"you need to be with someone who will take care of you." 
anger flares in your chest at the thought of it, as you climb up the stairs two steps at a time, and it's just when you're just reaching the first landing, when you suddenly coming to a crashing halt because —
the sound of microphone feedback makes you put your hands over your ears, instinctively, the shrill sound piercing the air. 
a loud bass suddenly starts up, vibrating under your feet. did they hire a live band? the song that booms from downstairs is familiar, and with a jolt, you realise that you know it a little too well. 
that honey-sweet voice, the bitter bite to his words soothed over by the sweetest of tones – drifts up from the speaker, a haunting melody that echoes up the empty staircase, punctuated by a screaming crowd.
as if to further prove it was him, he lets out a laugh at the end of his line, the tone of it dark and sarcastic, the crowd going wild at the sound of it. 
was it a studio recording? it must be, because there was no way this band was downstairs, performing live at this random birthday party, there was no chance…
… except now mark is speaking into the microphone, greeting the audience, asking for the birthday girl. unease stirs in your stomach as you trace your steps back down, a dread that fills you up as the makeshift stage comes back into view, where the DJ had been just a moment ago. 
to where haechan stood, guitar on its stand, eyes already trained on yours, an expression of white hot anger on his face. 
"him? really?" 
you can still feel his touch on your arm, from how he dragged you into the bedroom. 
you're frozen on the steps. 
haechan signals to mark, ignoring the questioning looks from the members and protests from the boy as he steps off the platform, making a beeline for the stairs. his brows are furrowed, his teeth gritted as he glares at you. 
"you wanna go upstairs that bad?" he murmurs. "lead the fucking way, princess." 
he starts towards you, and you take a step back, body colliding with the door. the sound seems to ground him, and he takes a deep breath, trying to calm down, finally turning away to sit on the bed, the space allowing you to relax just slightly.
"i thought," he starts, patiently, swallowing hard. "i thought i told you to find someone to take care of you, for your first time."  
the reminder of his words feels like a stab in your chest. "i thought you didn't care," you shoot back. 
he ignores you. "did you come here with your friends? where's jaemin?" 
what the fuck was wrong with him? "who are you to tell me what to do?" 
his lips part, but no words come out. sighing, he rubs his face with his hands, still trying to calm down. "y/n," he starts again, voice pained. "i don't want to see you get hurt."
"how do you know he would've hurt me?" 
his eyes meet yours. "did you tell him?" he asks, quietly. 
"tell him i was a virgin? yes." anger seeps into your tone, as you glare at him. "he reacted very differently from you." 
"y/n that's not a good thing!" he stands up, his voice raised. "are you that desperate to get fucked?" 
you step back in alarm, tears forming in your eyes. fear, of the situation you almost put yourself in, of the boy in front of you, makes your throat close up, and you can't help the way your body tenses. the cruelness of his words settles in a little too late, an acidic burn in your chest. 
haechan feels the tips of his fingers go numb as you start to cry, guilt flooding his mind in a way he rarely felt. his face crumples, and he does't know what to do when you curl in on yourself, every sound you make feeling like a punch to his ribs.
"i'm sorry," he whispers, reaching for you tentatively. when you don't pull away, his arms circle around you, and he makes sure to leave enough space for you to breathe or break free if you wanted to. "i'm sorry," he repeats again, as you sink into his chest, needing his warmth as much as you hated his presence. 
"take it back," you mumble. "take it back right now."
"i take it back," he says, immediately. "i didn't mean any of it. i'm sorry." 
"you don't get to reject me," you start, voice shaky, "and control who i choose to be with."
he sucks in a breath, gripping onto you a little tighter. "y/n –" 
"it's…it's fucked up," you hiccup, fisting at the fabric of his shirt, crumpling it in your fists in frustration.
"i know," he breathes. "i know." 
his hand comes up to stroke your hair, and you hate how it really does manage to comfort you, your breaths steadying as he pats your back clumsily. when you think you've calmed down enough, you place your hands on his chest, and he backs away instinctively, looking down at his feet. never meeting your eyes.
"i'm tired, haechan," you whisper. "i don't want to play whatever game you're playing." he doesn't respond, so you continue. "you don't want to fuck me, but you don't want anyone else to." 
"i do." his response is so quiet, you barely catch it.
"you want other people to fuck me?" 
"no, i don't." he lifts his head, his expression conflicted. "i…i want to be your first time." 
"what?" 
when he doesn't respond, you sigh, agitated. "haechan, i already told you i don't want to play your games anymore –" 
"not a game," he cuts you off, softly. "i'll take care of you." the gentleness of his voice makes you feel small. it's almost overwhelming, the way he looks into your eyes, without his usual apathy and bitterness. 
"i thought you said you don't do that?" it takes you all your willpower to not give in. 
"i don't," he breathes. "but with you i will." he's starting to think he has no choice – that there's no one else in the world who's going to take care of you the way he knows you need. he doesn't know when he decided to give in, in between watching you place your hand on that man's thigh, and you standing in front of him now. all he knows is that he either had to do this, or make you disappear from his life entirely. 
the words hang in the air. even now, feeling so torn and hurt and tired, your body can't help how much you want him, hyper-attuned to the little details in his appearance: the messy black nail polish scrawled on his nails, smoky eye make-up that makes his gaze all the more intense and devouring. there's a heady smell hanging onto his skin and clothes, rich and indulgent vanilla and musk, filling up your senses with a giddy desire. long legs in a pair of ripped skinny jeans, his thighs stretching out the fabric in a way that almost looked like it hurt. 
"okay," you mumble. his lips part, but you answer him before he has a chance to ask. "please take care of me." your voice is small, yet each word seems to catch fire, incinerating the air between you. 
his tongue darts out, wetting his lip. "yeah?" 
you nod. finally giving in to the pull of your body, you take a step closer, looking up at him through your lashes. 
"i'm sorry…about all of it." he murmurs. "thank you for trusting me, still." 
you can't think of anything to say, so you nod again. it feels like your heart is in your throat. 
he swallows. "do you…you shouldn't…" his eyes dart around the room. "we shouldn't do it here. in…in some strangers bedroom." gently, he touches your arm, looking at you hesitantly. "would you feel comfortable if we did it in your apartment? or i could bring you to my shared apartment with the band…they wouldn't be back yet. but we might have to be quick…"
your head feels like it's spinning. 
at your lack of response, he rambles on, eyes focused on yours, trying to discern your thoughts. "w-what do you think? or…if you really want to get comfortable i don't mind booking a hotel, it's a little last minute but-" he bites his lip. "do you want to meet somewhere else or i could take you in my car? i haven't drank much, i swear, but if you don't trust me-" 
"stop," you blurt out. 
he freezes, the hand grazing your arm dropping to his side, fingers playing with the rips in his jeans. 
"i'm sorry," he says, softly.
"no, i mean…stop asking me questions." you exhale. "i trust you," you repeat, softly. every word of it was true — despite everything, you were still the same person sitting on his lap up on the rooftop. "just…take care of me, however you want." 
he swallows. "you sound…" exhaling, he shakes his head to clear it. "okay. is your apartment empty?" 
"yes," you whisper. "jaemin's away for tonight." 
"i'll drive," he murmurs. and now he takes a step closer to you, until he's all you can see, the room melting away. "but before that…can i kiss you first, princess?" you nod, transfixed by him, as he leans in. 
haechan kisses soft. 
his lips are plush, and soft, taking your bottom lip between his own sweetly. he tilts his head slowly as if he's afraid he'll overwhelm you by moving too fast, his lips parting as he invites you to do the same, his hands going to the back of your head to guide you. a soft sigh escapes the back of his throat when your lips part and he can taste you, and you can taste him — vanilla like how he smells, with the slight bite of alcohol. your hand comes up to touch his round cheeks, surprisingly soft too, and he smiles into this kiss. 
he's the one to break apart from you, with a patience that feels rehearsed. he's taking care of you, as he leans in so your noses brush, your breaths mingling. 
"haechan…" he hums, encouragingly. "i…you know this isn't…my first kiss, right?" 
a pause. "i know," he murmurs. 
"so… so you don't have to be gentle." you squirm slightly as his touch grows heavier, eyes darkening at the implications behind your words. 
he backs away from you, hands pulling you with him as he sits down on the bed. his eyes flick down to his lap as he lowers his gaze, before dragging them painstakingly up to yours again. 
"sit, princess." 
this time, when he feels you tremble against him, your knees caging in his hips as you straddle him, all he does is lean in and kiss you — just as sweet as he did the first time. 
"i'm gentle with you because i want to be," another kiss, his tongue sliding against your bottom lip. "not because i have to." his fingers guide your chin upwards, baring your neck to him as he leans in and leaves a kiss on a spot under your jaw. and then a longer, more lingering kiss. and now he's making his way down your neck, each press of his lips on your skin longer and rougher than the last, and now you're sure he's sucking marks onto your neck, especially when you feel a slight sting of teeth. 
you're shifting against him restlessly, body hardly your own as you fall under his touch. you don't know how long you spend there, in his lap, as he works on your neck, taking breaks to kiss you on the lips, his sighs echoing into the cavern of your mouth as it falls open with need. it's when he sucks lightly on your tongue, almost boyish in the way he backs away with a small smile, when a soft sound escapes your lips. 
"yeah?" he murmurs, leaning in again, letting the tip of his tongue brush against yours gently. "you like that?" 
you nod. 
"you sound so pretty," he breathes, as he slots his lips with yours again, humming against yours as you let out another small whimper. 
"haechan-" you mumble, and he draws away, looking at you expectantly. "i think i'm ready." 
"really?" his hands on your waist give you a light squeeze. "you want me to take you home now?" 
you're still giddy from the heat radiating off his skin, your lips craving his contact again now he's stopped kissing you. you nod, and he smiles, gently guiding you off his lap as he unlocks the door. 
he's gentle the whole way down – as he leads you away from the main staircase so you wouldn't be seen, the crowd still distracted by the band. he cradles you carefully against his side all the way out of the back gates and into his car, and when your breath catches as he leans over to buckle your seatbelt for you, he's gentle even as he presses into you for a spur of the moment kiss, tongue licking into your mouth with more fervor. 
it's not a song that plays in the car as he drives and you try to remember the way to your apartment, but rather it's a low and sultry beat — bluesy harmonies stretched out over pulses. part of you wonders if he played it on purpose, because imagining his voice set against it already had you melting against the leather seats.
it would all be rather sweet – how gentle he's being, the soft way he smiles at you in the dim lights of your lift lobby, the way he holds your hand and lets you lean against him as you head higher and higher, the space around you feeling like a vacuum of trapped adrenaline and lust. 
but there was also no denying the fact that he jolted at the slightest sound, his grip on you tight and slack all at once, the tenderness in his eyes here one second and gone the next. a hurt you could almost taste on your tongue, that you were holding onto something so fragile, and that to him it seemed the worst thing that could happen would be if he were found with you.
but all of it changes, when you're alone in your room. the weight of his attention, that you'd felt even as one person amidst a screaming crowd, seems to intensify tenfold as he lets his jacket slide to the floor, eyes on you. 
he reads the apprehension in your body, the way you hover near your bed, waiting for him to guide you. 
"let me know if it's too much, okay?" he murmurs, as he pulls you in for a hug first, feeling you warm against him as you cling on to his embrace. "you can tell me to stop whenever, and i will." his hands rub circles up your waist, teasing on the silver of skin between your top and your skirt. 
you nod, but he shakes his head – a thumb brushing across your cheek. 
"use your words," he murmurs. "so i know you mean it." 
"okay," you breathe, now guiding him to the bed yourself, curiosity getting the better of you. you had almost forgotten, in the midst of everything, why exactly you went to the party, and the familiar need sparks back to life in you. 
haechan sits down against the headboard, pulling you into his lap, the movement feeling even more natural now. he can see that you're nervous and eager at the same time, hands fumbling with the soft material of his shirt, unsure what to do as you shift around on top of him. 
"can i kiss you?" in the soft lamp light of the room, the sharp-cut edges of his face seem to blur, large doe-eyes looking up at you kindly. it makes you want to lean in, so you do — slotting your lips with his boldly, kissing him the way you wanted from him. it surprises him, the way you press your lips against him harshly, the gentle graze of your teeth against his plush lip. 
he lets out a small laugh, and kisses you back just as fiercely, the atmosphere in the room melting as temperature skyrockets, until it's almost unbearable to be separated from you by layers of fabric. 
"may i-" he mumbles, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, and when your voice chokes out an affirmative, he's quick to yank it over his head, movements rough, exposing beautiful skin, his body warm and solid under your palms as you lean into him. 
your cheeks warm, and he notices – a small smile on his face as his hands cup your cheeks, and he gives you a sweet kiss, abruptly different from the others. suddenly, it's almost too tender, the way he looks up at you with endearment in his eyes, kissing you chastely, and you sink into it a little guiltily, enjoying the innocence of it. 
when you feel your heart reach its boiling point, your own hands go to the hem of your shirt, and you pull it over your head. you don't mean to slow down your movements, not meaning to tease or entice, but the way his eyes darken looking at your body made you wish you did it on purpose. 
"pretty," he praises, head dipping to press a kiss between your collarbones. and another one, lower done, almost reaching your cleavage. the bra you had chosen mindlessly that morning was a thin bralette, and it did little to hide how aroused you were, your nipples poking stiff peaks through the fabric. 
but still, he doesn't make any move to remove it, peppering kisses on your bare chest, over the slope of your breasts, almost slobbering at your skin, lips dewy and wet. his arms are firm around you, meeting each one of your movements and steadying you, helping you rock your hips into him as desire surges in your body. 
"haechan, –" his name had never sounded so breathless falling from your lips.   
"yes, baby?" 
the term of endearment makes you feel smaller in his lap, the only thing making you feel better was the way he was just as heated as you, his breaths coming hard and fast. he wanted everything to be perfect, he never wanted to rush you into anything you weren't comfortable with, his hands staying firm on your lower back. 
you tug at the bralette covering your chest impatiently, the fabric never feeling more uncomfortable on your skin. 
"you want me to take it off?" he asks, head nuzzling into your neck as his fingers wander up your back. you feel it loosen around you, his finger expertly fiddling the clasp open, dragging it down and accidentally brushing against your hard nipples, making you hiss.
"i'll make you feel good," he promises, softly, lowering his head, kissing down the slope of your breasts. he makes eye contact with you, searching your eyes for any form of discomfort.
"be gentle," you murmur, nodding for him to continue. "they feel sensitive." 
"of course," he mumbles, before starting to lightly kitten-lick at your nipple, the feeling all at once new and arousing, making you pulse against him in his lap. he circles his tongue around your areola, being as gentle as possible, opting not to flick at your nipples but rather suck one into his mouth, heart-shaped full lips sinful against your chest. the heat between your legs is overwhelming, as he switches to your other side, his hand coming up to knead your breast, warm palms moving over skin and making you giddy. 
"please," you whimper, as he laps at you. "please, i need you, please –" 
"you have me," he murmurs, one of his hands reaching out for yours blindly, scrabbling against the back of your hand from where it's pressed against his chest, flipping it over and interlocking your fingers. "i'll take care of you. lie down for me?"
he moves you off his lap, guiding you onto your back, propping up pillows you can rest against. the familiar feeling of your bed is only faintly there, your senses filled with the sweet heady smell of haechan, from the perfume and lotion clinging onto his skin, as you watch him remove the numerous rings on his fingers, placing them carefully on your bedside table. 
haechan kisses his way down your body, suckling on your skin, leaving longer, lingering bruises on your hips, finally reaching your thighs as he lowers himself down. he guides your hips up with a heavy hand, sliding a cushion carefully under as he situates himself between your legs. you're so sensitive, that the feeling of his long hair against your skin has your thighs sliding together, squeezing around his head accidentally. 
"you okay?" he murmurs, as he kisses your thighs again, patiently easing your thighs open. 
you suddenly feel shy, knowing he was about to see you so intimately. even when you had agreed to let him take care of you, even as you trusted him completely, you had never imagined seeing him in between your spread legs like this, somewhere you hadn't even explored much yourself. would he be disappointed or disgusted? what if he didn't like what he saw or felt? 
"baby…." he rubs a hand carefully on your thigh, tips of his fingers slipping just under the hem of your skirt. "is this okay? do you want to stop?" 
"i don't want to stop," you admit, and you find that its true. 
haechan looks at you, studying your face. after a moment, he crawls back up your body, brushing the hair out of your eyes before he brushes his lips against yours softly, as if asking for permission. you grant it, lips parting as his warm mouth meets yours, a welcome taste in your mouth that's become familiar. you kiss for a while, his hand finding yours in the mess of sheets and intertwining your fingers, until you feel confident enough to slip your other hand to the zipper of your skirt. 
you tug it off your legs, haechan breaking away from the kiss to help you, moving down your body. 
"i'll take care of you," he whispers, his hand never letting go of yours. "these are so pretty, baby," he whispers, a finger tracing over the lacy pattern on the front of your panties. you've never been more aware of your own arousal seeping out of you, as he places a kiss low on your hip, and then another just on the waistband of your panties, and suddenly, you want nothing more than for them to come off. 
your fingers tug at them impatiently, and he takes hold of your hand, kissing your fingertips lightly. "let me," he murmurs, and you hear something low and raw in his voice, something that maybe wasn't there before. sitting up slightly, he pulls your panties down your legs, assuming his position as quickly as he'd left it once the fabric was out of the way, rearranging your legs so they're spread open for him. 
the tension in the room fills your lungs up like smoke. you barely mumble his name, beg him to do something, before you feel a soft touch against your clit, making your hips jolt and you let out a sharp exhale. 
"let me hear you," he encourages, gently, as he starts to rub circles into your sensitive nub, dipping down to your entrance and spreading your wetness all over your cunt. your hips keep shifting around, so he pulls his arm around to press down into you, keeping you still for him as he slowly pleasures you.
"t-this feels…" you start, lost in your own head. you've touched yourself before, but the sensitivity seemed to be heightened to an exaggerated amount once it was someone else touching you. he looks up at you, face still wickedly beautiful, the gentlest look in his eyes laced with something like desperation.
"can't believe i got so lucky," he murmurs, suckling a kiss close to your heat, high on the soft skin of your thigh. your legs clamp around his head, and it makes him groan, breath heavy against your cunt. "you're pretty everywhere, baby. can't believe i'm the only one." 
the words flood your veins with a dark thrill, the idea of being his, of him taking all your firsts. "hypocrite," you mumble, cutting yourself off with a moan as he applies more pressure to your clit. 
"maybe a little," he admits, shyly, as he dips his head back down and flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue, his fingers sliding down to your entrance instead. 
you cry out at the foreign feeling, the wet muscle of his tongue stroking your clit expertly while his slender finger slips past your entrance. his name, strung along by curses, echoes from your mouth as he teases his finger in and out of your entrance, tongue lying flat and wide as he laps at your clit in a way that made you feel like you were already close. 
stiffening his tongue, his flicks your clit with the tip, humming into you just as he curls his finger against your walls in a come-hither motion. he knows when you cum — back arching as you seemed to chase for stimulation above you, your walls sucking tightly around his finger and kneading it eagerly, making him groan as he imagines the feeling of you tight around his cock. he lets you ride out your orgasm on his face, his nose bumping your clit and eliciting another drawn out whimper, tongue teasing your entrance. 
when your hands push at his head, he backs away easily, once again making his way up your body to check on you, the warmth of his bare chest against yours making you feel safe. 
"good?" he kisses you, tongue moving against yours, inviting you to take a taste. "did you like that, sweetheart?" 
you nod, gasping. "haechan…"
"you did perfect for me, baby." his hands run up and down your sides as he kisses down your neck, enjoying the way your body wraps yourself around him, arms pulling his weight down into you. 
"i still need you," you murmur. the pleasure from before had only satiated you for a little bit, and the feeling of his hard length poking at your thigh was making your head spin with a whole different level of desire, as you grapple for his belt. "please, i've been good-" 
"you're perfect." he comforts you with a kiss. 
he guides your hand away from him gently, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants slide onto the bed as you lie back down on your pillows. tugging his underwear down, you swallow as he squeezes his thick length, the pink tip leaking clear liquid. he watches you watch him spread it on his length, pumping himself slowly, drawing out the pleasure as he moans, a sweet tenor sound that rings lewdly in the air. you watch, mesmerized, as he thrusts his hips forward a few times, stroking himself with a slight twist of his wrist before letting go abruptly, letting his cock slap up against his lower stomach. 
fishing around in the pocket of his discarded jeans, he takes out a condom wrapper, opening it quickly and rolling it onto his cock. you're sure you're making a mess of the sheets, you can feel your arousal and his saliva on your thighs, can feel another gush of wetness seep out of you as he lowers himself over your body and slides his cock against your folds. 
he grinds himself on you, hoping to get you wetter so it may be less painful when he enters you. his fingers find your clit again, this time he rubs it urgently, with just the correct amount of pressure to have you shaking and lifting your hips into him. 
"stop me anytime," he reminds you, as he lines himself up to your fluttering entrance. "you have to relax for me, baby." he pitches his voice lower now, and you can't tell if he's comforting you or if he's slowly being pulled under by lust too. he makes soft shushing noises, nipping at your lips with gentle kisses as you whimper, feeling the bulbous tip of his cock slowly stretch you open, his fingers resuming his movements. the head of his cock still feels shallow inside you, when it suddenly brushes against a sensitive spot, and his fingers on your clit glide just right, making you cum, hard. he feels you clamp down tightly around his tip, and he hisses, eyes squeezed shut. his mind wiped clean for just a second as pleasure thrums through his entire body, an aching pain that makes his mouth hang open.
"'m sorry," you whimper, tears prickling to your eyes as you interpret his expression as annoyance. "i'm so sorry, it just felt so good —" 
"baby…" he looks at you, his face morphing into panic when he sees the tears in your eyes. "don't apologise, please, you have nothing to be sorry for." 
you still look unconvinced, so he reaches for one of your hands, holding it in his and kissing your fingertips. "you are so pretty when you cum," the filthy words sound sacred the way he says them. "and you felt so fucking good around my cock," he murmurs, voice sinking low again.
you begin to relax again, sniffling slightly as you adjust your legs around his waist, feeling him slide a little deeper into you. he coaxes you into taking more of him, kissing you sweetly as he slips in further and further, until finally the both of you are groaning, his body shuddering slightly against yours as he feels your warm gummy walls tight around him. 
"so tight," he groans, cursing again under his breath as he circles his hips, drawing a moan from you as your thighs tense. "how are you so tight?," he panted, tone still teasing despite him trying desperately not to buck his hips into you. "has no one ever fucked you before or something?" 
you don't have it within you to tease back. 
"only you, haechan." the words are reverent, hushed. it strips him of any of his cockiness, his teasing, his boldness — his features softening at the way you look up at him, trying to maintain eye contact even as the ache between your legs drove you insane, not wanting to waste a single moment of this, in case it never happened again. 
"haechan…" your nails rake against his back, drawing him out of his daze. "please fuck me." 
"fuck," he breathes, as he slowly starts to move in you, obsessed with the way the words sound in your voice. his thick length drags against your walls, heavy inside you, the wet sounds of your arousal seeping into the room. you feel full and stretched out, sated by having him so close to you, it feels like you can feel him deep in your gut the way he's thrusting into you, especially when he hikes your legs higher on his waist, drawing a long moan from you as he manages to stimulate a spot inside you that has you seeing stars. 
he changes his pace, now barely pulling himself out of you as he nudges the head of his cock against your sweet spot. licking a long stripe from your neck up to your ear, one hand tangles itself with yours, while the other ghosts over your sensitive nipples. 
"i'm cumming," the words come out rushed as you barely hold onto your senses, cumming harshly for the third time, your body thrown into pleasure as your muscles tense. he succumbs to the feeling of your walls kneading his length and squeezing tight around him, eyes going unfocused and hazy as his lips part, a moan drawn out from his lungs without conscious thought. he's aware of the way your muscles tense as he fucks both of you through your highs, relishing in the sting of your fingernails on his back as he slows down his movements. he draws out both your highs by leaning in and sucking on the mark he'd left behind earlier that evening, letting his moan buzz and fizzle on your skin. 
you feel dazed and tired, arms never letting go of him, legs unwilling to unwrap from his waist as you cling to him. he rolls you both onto your sides, caressing your body sweetly and stroking your hair, mumbling questions and concerns that you can't register, nodding to everything in a blur. the weight of him feels good, his body warm and solid against your back, and once again that feeling of safety, that feeling of complete trust, washes over you. it makes you feel whole even as he pulls out of you with a wince, discarding the condom in the trash by your bedside. 
you cling to him, and he knows you need it — so he doesn't let you go, heavy hands patting your back clumsily, slightly rough and out of rhythm, just like the way your heart beats against your ribcage.
when he feels your arms loosen, relaxing finally after the high of hormones and adrenaline, he slips away quickly to the bathroom, putting on his underwear as he goes. he grabs a towel, turning your tap on to warm water and checking the temperature with his wrist as he washes his hands, his face, cleaning himself up. running the towel under the water and squeezing it dry in the sink. his movements methodical, as he slips out of your room and into the kitchen, looking around for a glass of water. 
he immediately races back the moment he hears a sound from your bedroom, shutting the door behind him just as you sit up, your expression clearing once you see him again. pulling his shirt from where it's discarded on the floor, he slides into bed, kissing you on the cheek. 
he cleans you up with soft strokes, the warm towel soothing on your skin even though he hadn't really been rough. he makes you drink from the glass of water, watching you drain it carefully. finally, slipping his large shirt over your frame, swallowing at the way it envelopes your body, a feeling stirring in his gut that he ignores. 
"y/n? are you with me?" when you don't respond, wide eyes looking up at him, he touches his fingers to your cheek. "baby?" 
each brush of his skin against yours felt like trails of fire, lingering warmth even after he pulls away. every look he gave you through his lashes, the slight pout to his lips when he broke away from a kiss, made you feel like you were caught in a riptide, your pulse out of your control. you wanted to crawl into him and make a home in his chest. you never wanted him to look at you again with his shuttered eyes, to have to dream yourself into the skin of someone else as he touched them. 
you had to tell him. "haechan…haechan i…" you reach for him, and he pulls you into his embrace, shushing you softly. you try to speak again, lips parting, but he envelopes your lips in a gentle kiss, nipping at your mouth each time you part, swallowing all your sounds with the sweep of his tongue. 
"princess…" his voice sounds raw, and coarse. "don't say anything you don't mean." 
"but-" 
"you don't know me." was it regret in his voice, or your wishful thinking? "you don't know me at all. what you're feeling right now…" he touches a hand to your chest, brushing a kiss on your cheek. "it's because of the sex, alright?" 
you shake your head. 
your next words come out slurred, your eyelids starting to droop as sleep begins to tug at your mind, threatening to pull you under. "but…why can't i know you?"  
he takes a deep breath. "i don't want you to."
"but i don't want this to end." 
he holds you tighter against his chest at your words. 
"this?" he questions, quietly. he keeps his voice light, but it still pierces your heart like a shard of glass. "there isn't a 'this' princess. this isn't happening again." 
"why?" 
"i don't want you to get attached." he cradles you even more carefully against him, freckling mellow kisses onto your forehead, the contrast between his words and his actions ringing dissonant in your ears. "besides… why would i spend the night with the same girl twice, hm?"
sleep softens the hurt from the words he's saying. his voice fades slightly, his touch against your skin roaring ever louder in your ears. "you know i won't be here when you wake up, right?" his fingers brush against your forehead lightly, pushing hair away from your eyes. 
you knew. 
but you still cried in the morning all the same — the golden-orange sunrise beautiful and terribly cruel, just like the boy you were perhaps falling in love with. 
you spend the weekend alone. 
you spend the weekend wondering if haechan thought of you at all, after he left. thinking if what he said was real, and it was just adrenaline and lust, then why did your heart ache at the thought of him? at his face on posters outside the small concert venue, inviting you to a show next week? why did you always turn at the slightest hint of his voice? 
you try to forget him. you try to tell yourself he wasn't worth it. but deep down all of it, a part of you still hopes, which is perhaps why you were letting jaemin drag you past the poster of haechan, into the alleyway that led backstage.
"are you sure you need me there?" you pull at jaemin's sleeve, your other hand holding onto his spare camera carefully as he guides you into the venue.  
"i do," he insists, pushing through a set of doors leading to the stage. "mark wants extra photos for their social media page and i can't be doing all of that at once." 
you can hear the boys talking just around one of the curtains, sprawled out onstage, a cacophany of sounds as they absentmindedly plucked at their instruments. you were going to see haechan again. you can't tell if it makes you want to run towards them, or go back home. that familiar sense of hope, the kind you experienced in the crowd that first night, on the balcony, in the bedroom and in the moonlight, fills you up slowly, sweet and light. maybe, if he just saw you again…
"y/n-" jaemin puts a hand on your arm, stopping you gently before you could rush onto stage. 
"yes?" you prompt. 
"i know i dragged you here, but if you're feeling uncomfortable," he starts, and you start to slip away, but he only tightens his grip. "let me finish — if you're feeling uncomfortable, or if any of them are hurting you, let me know okay?" 
you hadn't told him about haechan, something close to shame seeming to rise up and choke you whenever you tried to bring it up. all jaemin knew was that the last two times you had come into contact with the band it had upset you badly, and as your best friend and roommate he never wanted to see you crying on the balcony again. 
"what would you do? beat them up?" 
"i would leave." his serious tone doesn't change, unaffected by your attempt to lighten the mood. 
"but the money –" 
"no job is more important than you being okay," he insists. "i don't want to work for them if they hurt you. okay?" 
"okay." 
even though he looks unconvinced, his grip on your arm loosens and he takes your hand instead, pulling back the curtain with his other. 
you can hear him say something to mark about today's shoot, hear him greet the rest of the members. you guess that mark is rising to greet him, hear something like jisung and jeno standing too, but everything fades to white noise when the sight you're looking at clicks in your mind, the one member of the band who's voice you hadn't heard, who hadn't bothered to turn around at jaemin's arrival.
or rather, the one boy who was too pre-occupied to — considering he had his tongue in a pretty girl's mouth. 
haechan was facing away from you, away from the rest of his bandmates, you could really only see his broad back under his denim jacket, but the careful tilt of his head as he kissed her was all too familiar, as was the movement of his arms around her waist. and when she shifted in his lap, his hands pulling her hips down unto his, you can feel your heartbeat in your ears, a sharp pain searing at your chest in emotions you couldn't pinpoint. 
"fuck, sorry about that –" mark's voice is flustered, and now a tall boy, the bassist, jisung, is stepping in front of you, blocking your view of him. 
"sorry," he echoes, and you're momentarily caught off guard by how deep his voice is - husky and quiet. you blink up at him, fog slowly clearing in your mind, and he smiles shyly. "he doesn't usually do that." 
"who?" 
"um, haechan…" he looks back briefly, and you see haechan helping the girl to her feet, her body crumpled into his like she couldn't bear to be separated from his touch. you feel a wave of second-hand shame again – was that what you had looked like? 
and then jisung turns back to you, towering over you again and blocking everything from view. "he usually only does this after the show, but today…" 
"it's fine," you say, faintly. 
jisung looks at you, carefully. "you're jaemin's friend y/n, right?" 
you nod, half your mind still on what could be going on right now. behind jisung, you see mark pull haechan, now alone, towards a corner of the stage, whispering angrily at him. haechan is slouched lazily, picking at his nails with all the look of someone who couldn't care less about what was going on. 
"i saw you at our last show," jisung continues. "i was going to…i was going…" he breaks off, a little embarrassed, fumbling with his words. "are you sure you're okay?" 
"i'm fine, jisung." you repeat, your voice a little more firm, as you finally look back at him.
he blinks. "you know me?" 
jisung still looked worried, but there was something sweet about the way he shrunk a little under your attention, eyes darting all over your face and around his surroundings, blush tinging his cheeks.
this you were comfortable with – something completely different from the way haechan's eyes always tried to drink you in, or the way your vision would go blurry at the edges when he would stand in front of you. talking with jisung was easy, the confidence that haechan drained from you seeping back and settling in. 
he had meant it, when he said you shouldn't get attached. you just had to learn it before it brought you more hurt you couldn't justify.
"jisung," you emphasise. "of course i know you. you play bass, right?" 
"y-yeah," he stammers, pointing unecessarily at his dark blue bass guitar on its stand. "i don't know, i guess i always thought people didn't really know me even if they knew the band." he fiddles with the hem of his shirt, black hair falling over his eyes. "people usually choose to stand where haechan or mark are." 
"you usually stand on the left?" 
he nods, bashfully, and a smile tugs at your lips. 
"i'll make sure to stand there, later during the show." 
"wow, okay." he pauses for a moment, steeling himself. "how about after?" 
"what do you mean?" 
"would you want to meet…after the show?" he hesitates, voice soft. 
your brow furrows slightly. "do you mean the party?" 
"we don't have to go," he blurts out. "i don't mean…i don't mean like what haechan usually does after the show."  
his name is an unwelcome sting, but the way jisung sneaks glances up at you from where he looks down at his feet makes it a little easier to forget. "then what do you want to do?" 
"w-we can get something to eat." he says it like he just suggested robbing a bank. 
oh. "like a date?" 
mortified, his lips part, and you can tell that he's frantically trying to read your tone, trying to figure out if the idea of it made you uncomfortable, whether you were suggesting because you wanted it. it's so endearing, watching him start his sentences and stop them, the hem of his shirt crumpled and worn out by his nervous fingers. 
eventually, he takes a deep breath, and settles for a question. "d-do you mind if it's a date?" 
did you? 
was there any hope in waiting for haechan, when he had made it so clear that you would never have him again?
jisung is still looking at you like you have all the power in the world to hurt him. 
"i don't mind," you say, softly, feeling a hum of satisfaction in your chest at the way it makes his lips part in blissful surprise. a beat. "do you want it to be…?" 
"yes," he blurts out. "please," he adds, shyly. 
the awkward silence between the two of you feels good, the lightness of it familiar and giddy, like a schoolgirl crush. jisung can't stop smiling, biting his lips slightly as he turns to face mark, who's crossed to the front of the stage to speak to them. 
" — jisung, jaemin will start with your photos first. we'll just be shooting the rehearsal process today, so there's no need to-" he breaks off, brow furrowing. "jisung why are you so red?" 
"i-it's w-warm in here." 
"well you should cool off before jaemin takes your photos." jisung nods, flustered, and he walks offstage with jaemin to prepare. jeno too, strolls away with a wave to mark, leaving him alone at the front of the stage. 
with you. 
mark glances over at you, his eyes darting over your face, trying to read your expression. you can almost hear haechan's voice from that night, the ghost of the hurt still palpable in your bones. but the moment you take a step back, thinking that you should find jaemin and jisung, mark seems to have made up his mind — his face set, he starts to walk over to you, and you find your own footsteps falter.
"um, y/n, can i speak to you for a second?" 
you take a deep breath. "is this about the photos for later?" 
"no…not exactly." he clears his throat. there's a pause, as he seems to pick his words. "y/n, did i do something wrong?" 
you blink at him. "what do you mean?"
"i mean, i know it was a while ago, but i thought we were getting along fine at the party," it feels like he's rehearsed this to some capacity, or perhaps it was just the confidence of being a lead singer. "but then since then every time i saw you…i feel like you've been avoiding me." 
"i haven't been avoiding you." you take a deep breath. "mark, do you have a girlfriend?" 
his eyes widen. "are you…are you asking me out?"
"what?" you balk. "no!" 
"oh." his face falls. "i mean…i just thought…"
"that's just too bad, markie." 
it’s practically deja vu.
haechan stands behind you, his body radiating warmth, and you inhale sharply. surprisingly, he doesn't smell saccharine, the way he always does with the girls he chooses — his skin smells like baby powder and fresh linen. your body is doing that thing again – where you hone in on his presence and the whole world dissolves, and you're hyper attuned to the way his arm hovers near yours, his breath on the back of your neck. anything you were about to say to mark completely lost in your brain. 
exasperated, mark runs his hand through his hair. "haechan…don't be difficult." 
"i'm not." you feel almost numb when his hand touches your elbow, sliding down to hold your hand tight in his grip. "y/n and i have to talk about something." 
"can't it wait?" 
"it's urgent," haechan says, sarcastically, giving you a sharp tug towards him. your feet stumble as haechan starts to walk off, and you turn one last time to see mark standing there, looking a little forlorn, suddenly small under the bright lights of the stage. 
"sorry, –" you mumble out. mark frowns, starting towards you. 
but now haechan really pulls you along, yanking curtains aside and accessing a short flight of stairs. you can feel the intensity of his emotions radiating off him in waves, making it a little hard to breathe as you try to keep up, afraid of what he'll say if your hand slips from his grasp. 
he guides you along a corridor and through a doorway, stepping into the warm light of a dressing room, the door slamming shut behind you as haechan pulls you in. 
you're almost afraid to look at him, but you do anyway. 
he's slightly breathless from the walk down, stooping slightly to lock the door with careful hands. when he straightens and steps towards you, the lights hitting his features, you can see that he's covered up the hickeys on his neck with makeup. something mark made him do, no doubt. 
"haechan -" 
"park jisung? really?" he sneers, backing you into the dressing table. 
 "what?" 
"don't lie to me," he demands. "i saw you." 
"really?" you fold your arms across your chest as he moves in closer, planting both hands on the table on either side of your hips, caging you in. "you looked busy. where did she go, hm? did mark send her away, or did you?" 
haechan rolls his eyes. "that's none of your business." 
"jisung said you don't usually bring girls to the rehearsal," you continue, watching the way his tongue pokes into his cheek in annoyance. "what happened?" 
"you two talked about me?" he demands. "what else did you do? make plans to fuck after the show?" 
"i'm not a virgin anymore," you remind him, your voice laced with a warning. "i thought you only cared about my first time." 
haechan groans. seeing you talk to jisung out of the corner of his eye, seeing your hands brush and his friend's head duck shyly to the side, gave him a weight on his chest which grew heavier each time he took a breath, each time he had to hear one of jisung's small laughs. 
"if you want to have mediocre sex then i couldn't care less," he snaps. "just know that you're going to have to fuck a lot of people before you forget me." 
you can see that you're losing him, the familiar closed-off look coming back to his face, anger dissapating into indifference. 
"what is there to forget?" you ask, hurt and anger making your voice shake. 
haechan is staring at you, his face now so close to yours if you leaned in just slightly your lips would brush. 
"you don't mean that," he says, quietly. 
and just like that, all the fight drains out of you. 
"haechan, jisung just wants to take me out on a date." his features tense, and he bites his lower lip harshly. "would you ever ask me out on a date, haechan?" 
he doesn't respond.
"would you?" 
"i told you," he breathes. "i don't do that." 
"you told me you didn't want to be my first time, and you took it back," you remind him, quietly. 
"that's different." you can't help the disappointment that wells up inside you, and you know he can see it from the way his face falls too. 
"don't look at me like that, princess." he sinks into your touch easily, warmth once again circling your body.  
you don't know if you wished haechan was a liar, or if you wished he wasn't. if he was telling the truth about everything, it would be easier to let go of him, to walk away from someone who could only cause you pain, from someone who played with you over and over again. 
but maybe if he was lying it would all make sense – the way he said he didn't want you and yet kept showing up, the jealousy and the conflict in his voice, all of it would have some sort of plausible reason, one that would mean that maybe he cared for you. 
"i don't want to do this anymore," you mumble, hands placed on his chest. you only push at him lightly, but he backs off all the way to the opposite wall, your words feeling like salt in his wounds. "i can't do this with you, haechan."
"y/n-"
"you have a show soon," you mumble, turning around to look in the mirror. you comb your hair with your fingers, trying to calm yourself down. behind you, haechan's eyes flash with frustration, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows drawn together as he looks up at your reflection. 
"i'm trying to talk to you." 
"are you?" it's a genuine question, and it makes him falter, a response half-formed on his lips. when it's clear he won't finish his thought, you close your eyes. 
"you need to go," you say again, quietly.  
"will you be there?" 
you don’t respond, and he repeats himself, urgently. 
"will you be there? at the show?" 
"i will," you say, hesitantly. 
"i'll see you then." his voice is controlled, and steady. somehow it feels like the calm before the storm. 
but before you can turn around to try to talk to him, persuade him to calm down, ask him what's wrong, he's already left the room, the sound of his heeled boots echoing down the hall. 
"is everything okay?" 
"why are they taking so long?" 
"are they late?" 
unease settles in the pit of your stomach as you stand in the crowd, the voices all around you whispering anxiously. it had been 15 minutes since the show was scheduled to start — but the lights on the stage were dim, and the pre-show playlist had just restarted for the second time. you had situated yourself on the left side of the stage, where jisung usually stood, and you bounced on your toes, hoping that everything was alright backstage so jisung could come out and see that you had kept your promise. 
and then there's a low rumble, as lights finally flood the venue, the crowd sighing with relief as jeno and mark appear – jeno waving at the crowd, his drumsticks in one hand, while mark smiles reassuringly, walking over to the mic and checking that it's at the correct height. he apologizes lightly for the delay, looking to the side of the stage nervously as he murmurs a quick introduction of the band into the mic.
haechan strides onto stage, electric guitar slung around his neck, as the crowd's screams reach an all-time high. he stops abruptly at the left side of the stage, right in front of where you stood, nodding at the crowd and cocking his head from side to side, as if preparing for a fight. he keeps his face level as his eyes find yours, that same burning intensity you felt in the dressing room unwavering as he held your gaze.
and then jisung appears, footsteps faltering where haechan stood, the grip on his bass going slack.
"haechan." jisung's voice is soft, you can barely hear it from where you stand so close to the stage. you can tell that the crowd behind has no clue what's going on, but some fans are looking at each other confusedly, pointing at the two boys, and the position on mark's left where haechan usually stood, now empty. 
"yes?" haechan's not looking at jisung, fingers running phantom chords up and down the fret board. 
"w-why are you standing here?" jisung whispered, embarrassment evident in his tone. "aren't you supposed to be on mark's left?" 
haechan's eyes briefly flick up to yours. "not today." 
distressed, jisung makes a sound. "haechan." guilt fills up your lungs like smoke, making it difficult to breathe, a twist in your chest as jisung looks over at you, lost. 
"run along, jisung," haechan murmurs, softly. "don't want to keep the fans waiting." 
mark, not wanting to draw attention to them, keeps smiling at the crowd, starting to ask them a few questions. jisung only tries a few more times, haechan resolutely ignoring him, before finally accepting defeat, casting his eyes over to you — his gaze wounded and confused, as he walks off with his bass. he assumes haechan's position, and the crowd cheers encouragingly. the boy manages a smile. 
when mark starts to introduce the first song, haechan finally looks up, a faint smile playing on his lips as his eyes lock with yours again. just like the day you met. 
and just like the day you met, you felt yourself fall under his spell, yet again. 
"haechan, i think we —" you gasp out, in between the kisses that haechan is pressing to your lips. 
he gives a non-committal hum, his legs framing your body as he holds you close to his chest. his lips are warm and soft, tasting slightly of cherries, as he opens you up little by little, chaste kisses turning into open-mouthed ones, his tongue darting out and gently licking into your mouth in a way that was intoxicating. 
you grip onto his arm harshly, trying to ground yourself, and he inhales sharply, breaking away. 
"haechan –" you pant. "we should-" 
but then he's kissing you again, smothering your words with his lips and his tongue. his hands rub at your lower back, guiding your movements as you shift against him, his hips grinding upwards almost lazily. 
"jisung, –" you start, but now he gives a groan, rumbling through his chest almost like a roar. slumped back against the car door, he glares at you, touching the corner of his wet mouth with his thumb.
"you did not just fucking say my bandmates name while you're on me." 
"we should apologize to jisung," your words come out in a rush. 
"for?" he catches the look on your face, and rolls his eyes. "fine," he mumbles. "i'll talk to him." leaning up towards you, he starts to pepper kisses down your jaw, sucking a little harder on the mark he had left before. "kiss me?" he mumbles, and you have to stop yourself from caving in. 
"haechan," you press on, as haechan licks boldly at your collarbone. "haechan –"
"keep saying my name," he murmurs, hands roaming up your shirt, teasing over the clasp of your bra. 
"mark, —" 
"fuck." breaking away agian, haechan tips his head back, lips stretched out and puffy as he tongued his cheek. "you want me jealous princess? is that it? because it's fucking working –" 
"haechan, we keep hurting people." you place both hands on his chest, trying to calm him down. 
"what?" 
"today we hurt mark too. although, i don't really know why–" you break off, thinking about how he looked as he tried to follow after you and haechan. how jisung's cheeks burned red as he walked across the stage. "haechan, they're your friends." 
"you wanna hurt jeno too?" he raises his eyebrows, his own hands now mindlessly scraping against yours. "you can lead him on, and then we can fuck while he watches. although he'll probably like that –" 
again, he takes in the way you frown. "fine. sorry. jeez." 
"i don't want to hurt people because of us," you say, softly. 
"well," he exhales. "they're only hurt because they can't have you, princess." he tucks your hair behind your ear from where its come loose. "there's nothing we can do, hm?"
you shake your head. "you're not being fair," you whisper. 
"how so?" his hands slide down. there's something possessive in the drag of his palms, the way he squeezes your waist. 
"you don't call me yours…but you also don't let them near me." your voice is small, but it rings loud in the silence of the car all the same. the streets outside were empty and deserted, and you think you can hear your heart beating in the still air as your palms stay pressed on his firm chest. "haechan…i need you to choose."  
it's a long time before haechan responds. he's tired from the show and all the adrenaline, you can feel it in his slow breathing, in the way his eyes blink slowly up at you like an afterthought. but his eyes are what give it away – his gaze is sharp and calculative as his eyes roam your body, his touches not quite as drowsy as he appears, fingers tingling against skin. 
you wait, your heart in your throat. you wait and you hope. 
his full lips part, his eyes meeting yours. 
"so…this is our last time together?" 
of course that's his choice. the disappointment spreads like cold, an ache deep in your bones. "if that's what you choose." your voice is flimsy. "haechan, —" but nothing leaves your mouth, just a wounded sound. everything rushing up inside you like a waves breaking over the shore, memories flooding your senses. 
the hurt on mark's face. haechan's hands on your skin. the blush that burned at jisung's skin as he watched haechan pull you to his car, his figure growing smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. haechan's lips against your ear as he held you. 
"shhh," his arms hold you against his chest, smoothing down your spine as he comforts you as if you were a baby, you clinging on tight to him as if he were going to disappear. "it's okay," he murmurs. "we'll just have to make it count, hm?" gently, he guides your face out of his chest, relieved when he realizes that you're not crying yet, at least. kissing your cheek gently, he brushes his thumb against the apples of your cheeks. "are you alright? do you want me to take you home?" 
"s-stop it." you manage to steady your breathing enough to repeat yourself. "stop being gentle with me, haechan. stop leading me on." 
"stop getting hurt," he replies, a little teasing, but his tone aches. 
"kiss me?" 
this time you do, letting him guide your movements, as he pulls you down into his body as if he were trying to pull you all the way through him. 
his kisses are slow and sweet, tilting his head almost shyly, the tip of his nose bumping against yours as he leans up into you. his tongue carefully slides over your bottom lip, before he's nudging your lips apart with his own again, tongue gently moving over yours, pulling away with a small smile when you chase after him, tongue stuck out slightly, chasing the warmth of his mouth. 
"cute," he mumbles, and you pull your shirt up over your head just so he won't see the way your cheeks burn in the dark. 
his movements become a little more urgent as he unclasps your bra, letting it slide to the floor of his car as he surges towards you. his lips begin to suck marks onto your chest, hands now squeezing your soft breasts, mapping your body indulgently. his tongue licks slowly around your right nipple, before giving it a gentle flick with his tongue, your body shifting restlessly against him as it sends a wave of arousal down to your core. he hugs you against him to steady your movements, lapping at your nipples and guiding each roll of your hips down into his. 
your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him away from you. before you can tell him to stop teasing, he's kissed you again — placating. sweet like he knew everything you were about to say, before you even said it. 
you raise your hips as his hands smooth over the pleats of your skirt, before flipping the soft material upwards. you hadn't worn anything special, not having the courage to, but the way he looked at your simple white panties, thumb running carefully over the pink bow in the middle of the waistband, made you feel warm all over. you hurry to pull them off, just to break the moment, but he catches them right before you tug them off your ankle. 
"can i keep these?" his doe-eyes blink up at you. you can see the brown in his irises, almost gold in the light. you nod, and he lets out a laugh, kissing you through his smile as his fingers wander up your thighs. 
he starts with slow circles on your clit, stroking the nub gently, feeling the way your hips shift at the feeling. when he speeds up his motions, fingers teasing along your slit and catching at your entrance a few times, your hips begin to pick up a steady rhythm, rocking into his hand. 
"do you just want to cum like this?" he asks kindly, placing a bit more pressure on the tips of his fingers. he wants to be inside you badly, his erection almost painful from the lack of contact, but he knew that it might do more for him than it did for you.
this was how he wanted you to be taken care of for your first time, for your second time — this is why he didn't want you to slip away from him into rooms with men who wouldn't know what you needed, wouldn't care what you wanted.
or at least — it's what he tells himself to keep him sane. 
"'m close," you mumble, your movements uncoordinated, neediness driving your hips into his hand, pleasure that you didn't quite know how to handle. "feels so empty, haechan, please –" 
he slows down his movements, a hand sliding over your waist to rub at your lower back, eliciting a warm sound from you that radiates into his chest. he slides a finger into your tight entrance, feeling the way you tense around him, slowly slipping the finger in and out, curling against your walls carefully. his thumb comes up to press your clit, and you inhale sharply as the pressure in your abdomen builds. 
"more…" 
"baby, you're doing so well," he praises. freckling careful kisses on your neck to distract you, you feel another finger catch against your entrance, his hand breaking its rhythm to carefully slide in, stretching your hole out even more. with a lewd suck on the base of your neck, he curls both fingers against your walls, a slick finger slipping on your clit, and you feel yourself crash headfirst into your high, thighs clamping around his hand in sensitivity as you moan. he murmurs praises against your ear, kissing your jaw sweetly between each one. 
he removes his hand from your core with a wet sound, and you drop down into his lap, feeling weak at the knees even though you weren't standing. he lets out a groan, feeling your wetness and warmth through his jeans, and he can feel his cock twitch under the fabric. but still, he waits until your breathing evens out, using his cleaner hand to stroke at your sides, humming lightly under his breath, the reassuring sound filling the car. his breaths sync with yours as you come down from your high, and together you let out a shaky exhale. 
"do you mind?" he asks, quietly, hands going to his belt slowly, trying not to startle you. "we don't have to have sex. i just really need to take care of this now…" you nod, flustered, crawling backwards down his legs, and he leans forward to kiss the crown of your hair. against the soft sounds of your breathing, the sound of him unbuckling his belt, letting it drop into the shadows, and the rustle of fabric as he tugged his jeans and underwear down as much as he could, were endlessly arousing. you felt yourself begin to pulse with need again, your thighs squeezing together when he pulls out his cock, thick and heavy against his palm, the tip blushy and leaking. 
he gives himself a tentative stroke, spreading pre-cum over his length before squeezing the base and hissing at the feeling as he tries to stop from cumming too soon. as if in a trance, you reach out towards him, your hand curiously wrapping around his shaft. he groans, low, as you give him a tentative stroke, although the sound is cut off by a high whimper when your fingers rub the head of his cock, silky under your fingertips. 
"baby, you don't have to –" he's cut off by another moan as you squeeze his length, applying more pressure as you stroke. "fuck, jus' like that," he mumbles, weakly, as you twist your wrist a little on a downstroke, palm slippery with pre-cum. after a few more strokes, watching haechan's head loll this way and that, twisting with pleasure, you pay more attention to his tip, thumbing just under it, fingers rubbing his slit. haechan's hips are restless, thrusting into your hand, his body shaking and the muscles on his abdomen clenched tight. you give him a few more strokes, and his whines fill up the car, raspy and sinful in a way that made you crave him even more. 
mimicking his movements, you slide your hand back down to his base and squeeze. he blinks hazily up at you, lips still parted, panting breathlessly. 
"baby…" 
"i need you," your voice feels broken, desire pulsing through each syllable. "please haechan," you add, as he swallows harshly, his cock twitching slightly against the warmth of your hand. 
pulling you towards him, he kisses you again, fingers wandering down to your heat and stroking your folds. "so wet from touching me, baby?" he teases, smiling against your lips as he slips a finger in, and then another, your walls sucking him in easily. he finds your soft spot immediately, your thighs shaking around his hand as you whine. it's a sound embarrassing to your own ears, but it's like music to haechan's ears, as he lets out a low groan. 
"it's too bad it's your last time with me," he murmurs, lightly, as he takes a condom out from the glove compartment, his hands moving swiftly as he tears open the package and rolls it onto his cock. "i would love to record your pretty sounds…" your voice lets out another small whimper, as if proving him right, as he adjusts you on his lap so the head of his cock lines up with your entrance. slowly, you sink down on him, clutching onto his body for support as you feel him fill you up tightly. 
"breathe," he coaxes, letting his own head sink back against the seats, the hazy feeling of you wet and warm around him intensifying as you take all of him inside you. he continues on, trying to distract you by peppering gentle kisses all over your cheeks. "would you like to hear your voice in a song, sweetheart? all the girls in the crowd wondering who's pretty voice is on the track, wondering who's making her feel this good…" he hisses, when he feels you pulse around him. "you want that?" 
your lips part, stuttering out jumbles of half-sentences, yes-es and nos. "'m just teasing, baby," he coos, as he thrusts his hips upwards experimentally, bouncing you on his lap. you lean into his body, feeling muscle firm under your palms as you raise your hips and grind against him, sensitivity making your thighs shake as the movement stimulates your clit. 
responding to your need, his arm loops around your waist while his fingers wander towards your clit, stroking and rubbing it expertly as he continues to thrust up into you, the car jolting with his movements. his strong thighs tense as he moves, barely pulling out before stuffing himself into you again, your walls kneading his length in a way that makes his body feel hot with need, chasing his climax. your soft sounds each time his tip grazes your soft spot are an aphrodisiac, and he feels himself growing impossibly harder inside you, so aroused it almost hurts. 
"haechan, i'm cumming," you moan, and his fingers put more pressure on your clit, as you bounce on him, eager for release. 
"keep saying my name," he breathes, pulling you close, your bodies moving frantic and unsteady against each other, as you cum, mouthing his name against his skin. he empties himself into the condom soon after, hips still jolting as he helps you ride out the aftershocks of your climax, your breaths echoing loud in the car.
you almost wanted to ask for round 2 — and you were sure he would give it to you, if you had asked. instead you stay silent, feeling emptier than ever as he pulls out, your body draining of his warmth as he cleans you with wipes from his glove compartment, kissing you sweetly whenever your eyes met. the water bottle he procured from the passenger seat of the car making you wonder if this was his plan all along, as you sipped quietly, as he put your address in his phone to take you home. 
you can feel him slip away from you on the drive back. 
a sea of red and green lights move across the planes of his face as you watch him drive, one hand on the wheel and the other touching your hand softly on the centre console. you give his fingers a faint squeeze and he smiles, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a light kiss to your fingertips. 
when you reach the next intersection, he pulls his hand from yours and puts it back on the steering wheel. 
when he makes his next turn, his shoulders start to tense and the easy, relaxed expression on his face morphs into a stony one. 
and when he finally pulls up in front of your apartment building, turning to face you, the glowing streetlights illuminating the outlines of his face do nothing to soften the blow of seeing him like this again — looking at you with half-lidded eyes, almost lazy in his power. 
"are you coming to the next show?"  
"i want to," you respond, your voice small. "...should i?" 
"it doesn't really matter to me." his fingers tap against the wheel, restlessly. "i just hope you know you shouldn't wait around afterwards." 
you bite your lip. "i know." 
he nods. "so you know this is over?" 
"i know." 
"good girl." it feels like a punch to the stomach, and you inhale, sharply, hands gripping the handle of the car door. waiting for him to dismiss you, as he always did. 
but then he's speaking again, breaking the silence. his voice is softer, a little more hesitant – "do you need me to walk you up?" he's not looking at you, eyes trained on his dashboard. "will you be okay?" 
it's cruel, the way your heart stutters in your chest. you take one last look at him, trying to memorize everything — the sharp line of his jaw, his collarbones, the joints of his fingers, the way his pinky finger crooks slightly to the right. the faint smell of vanilla and something darker, mixed with his warmth. you try to memorize it because you're sure this is the last time you'll be so close to him again, both in proximity, and in the way his voice aches with something close to tenderness. in that moment, you know if you told him you needed him, he would turn off the engine and open your car door, holding you safe against his chest and walking you up to your apartment. but what for? for him to shut off on the way up the elevator, and turn into a stranger at your door? 
"it's fine," you murmur, and you don't wait for a response before stepping out into the warm night. 
your ribs press against the barrier, and you wince slightly. the crowd screams loud in your ear, as the boy in front of you looks up from his guitar at the crowd in front of him, dark gaze sliding over faces, tongue poking at his cheek and puffy lips stretched. 
his eyes briefly meet yours, and your heart skips a beat. 
and then he's looking back down at his guitar again, lips pursed in concentration. 
the next time he glances up, the familiar glint is back, eyebrows drawn together. there was something strange about the way he was looking at you, not exactly meeting your eyes. was he looking at your clothes? your hair? or… 
"oh my god!" 
you shoot a brief glance back, at the girl who's just let out a squeal. she claps her hands over her mouth, eyes shining as she stares adoringly at haechan, unblinking. you don't have to check to know he's staring right back — you know the look on her face a little too well. 
the disappointment and jealousy weighing on your chest is entirely unjustified, but you feel it heavy in your bones, anyway. 
he had meant every word: it was truly over. 
"did anyone see you?" 
"no," you whimper, as he mouths over the seat of your panties, tongue lapping at your folds through the fabric. 
"good girl," he pants, letting out a satisfied groan when he tugs them down your legs, burying his face in between your legs with a lewd moan. 
but if it was truly over, why did he find you after the show last week, – slipping by you to tell you to meet him in the upstairs master bedroom, where he fingered you open in front of the mirror?
if it was truly over, why did a stagehand stop you from leaving after the next show you went to, passing you a note that told you to wait at the back entrance of the venue? 
"fuck fuck fuck-"
and if it was truly over, why was he currently in between your spread legs, his mouth and chin covered with your juices as you lay on his bed?
"need you now, princess." his fingers brush your clit, and your thighs shake with overstimulation. "are you okay? i can wait-" 
"don't wait," you plead, pulling him towards you. he follows, propping himself up on his arms as his face reaches yours, his lips gently nudging your own apart, letting you taste yourself on his tongue when he kisses you. his sticky hands stroke your sides, leaving trails on your skin. "haechan –" 
he interrupts you with another kiss. freckling more kisses down your neck, he smiles against the mark he left days ago, fading slightly now. "i missed this," he murmurs, and your heart stings, a collection of memories surfacing in your mind – of his eyes avoiding yours at shows. of him waiting onstage for someone else. of him smiling at you cordially, face blank as if he were greeting you for the first time when he talked to you in front of other fans. 
"did you really?" 
he doesn't respond, latching his lips to your skin with a hum, hands cupping your breasts in one swift motion, fingers teasing over your nipples and making your body arch into his touch. 
"haechan…"  
"what do you want, princess?" he wanders lower, licking at your cleavage. your mind threatens to blank when he circles a fingertip around your areola, puffy wet lips closing around a nipple and sucking wetly. "hm?" 
"want you to fuck me…" your voice is shaky, but you press on. "like how you were gonna fuck that girl."  
his hands still for just a brief second. you can see your words hit him, understanding and lust flickering in his responding laugh. he focuses his eyes back on your face, hands now coming up to brush your lips, caressing your cheek, smoothing over your skin almost lovingly.
this is how he was going to fuck her? 
"open up," he murmurs, fingers pressed to your bottom lip. as if stuck in a trance, your lips part. 
a wet mess of saliva, still mixed with traces of your arousal, drips down from his tongue into your mouth, connecting your lips with his in a glossy sheen. his lips tug into a smile as he sees your blown-out pupils, arousal completely overriding his every thought. 
his fingers trace your jaw. "swallow," he commands, sweetly, and as always you do exactly as he says. 
you feel something shift against your upper thigh, your hips rising on instinct to buck against his hard length, still trapped behind his ripped jeans. 
his low groan is interrupted by a sharp rattling of the doorknob, followed by a thud against the door. both of you still, eyes focused on the locked door, straining your ears to hear the voices outside. 
"are you sure no one saw you?" haechan asks, quietly. "did jisung see you? mark? jeno?"
"i don't think so," you mumble. 
that was the arrangement you had come up with a little over a week ago, discussed in heated kisses and bliss-induced haze. you could keep seeing haechan, as long as you never saw the rest of the band again. on nights when he knew he wanted you, you would slip through crowds like a ghost to make your way into warm beds and cold bathrooms, saving him from the jealousy, and saving you from the questions. 
of course, there were a few nights where no message would find you, where he wouldn't grab your wrist as you brushed past him in a hallway, his hands distracted with someone else. those nights used to make you cry, your entire being aching for his attention, his indifference just as bruising as his care. 
the doorknob rattles again, and there's a knock on the door. 
"haechan? are you in there?" 
mark's voice. 
"they're back early from the party," haechan mumbled. to your shock, he ignores them and tugs off his shirt roughly, revealing delicate tanned skin dotted with moles, looking soft-to-touch. 
"haechan," mark's voice is exasperated. "i thought we agreed not to bring girls to our apartment." 
haechan rolls his eyes as his hands go to his belt, ridding himself of his pants and underwear. you can see the muscles in his thighs tense as he makes his way up the bed, hands holding your hips.
"you wanted me to fuck you like the other girls?" he murmurs, low so only you can hear. "well. on your knees." 
"but mark is –" you break off, seeing the way his eyes narrow, something dangerous flickering in his pupils. "but…but they're outside," you whisper. as if to prove your point, mark bangs on the door again. 
and then jisung's voice, low and urgent comes through the door. "who is he even with? the girl he left the show with was alone when i saw her."
"god, are they all outside the door?" haechan grumbles, focusing his attention back on you when you let out a small sound of distress. "forget about them," he soothes, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. his mouth moves over yours searingly, possessive and all-consuming in the way he pushes his tongue into your mouth. "on your knees," he commands, quietly, against your mouth. "i won't ask again." 
a thrill runs down your spine as you flip over, his large hands adjusting you so your back arches, head pressed into the pillows as he holds your hips up. he presses a kiss to your back as he reaches off the bed for a condom, rolling it onto his hard length with a soft groan. you look over your shoulder, see him stroking himself, mouth hanging open. 
"hurry," you plead. you can feel slick on your thighs from the way he ate you out earlier, growing wetter from anticipation. "please." 
he ignores you. "can you be quiet for me?" he mumbles. outside, you can hear the boys discussing something heatedly, voices low so you can't make out the words. "don't want anyone else to hear you."
"yes," you promise, meekly. 
"good girl." he lines himself up to your entrance, reaching around to rub your clit as he runs the tip of his cock against your folds. you let out a shaky breath at the feeling, trying hard not to let it catch your vocal cords. 
one hand on your hip and the other stroking your lower back, he pushes in slowly, letting you adjust to his girth. you feel a sting as he stretches your walls, filling you up deeply while burying himself inside you. he murmurs for you to relax, listening to you take shallow breaths, the way your hole flutters around his length making him want to thrust forward, relieve his own ache. 
"haechan, are you asleep?" 
there's a sharp rap on the door, and haechan curses as it makes you tighten around him, gummy walls gripping him like a vice, as if begging for his cum. 
"you liked that, baby?" his voice is low, and mocking. you whimper. "you like the idea of them coming in and seeing you like this? letting me take you like a slut?" 
"haechan, we know you're in there." now it's jeno's rough voice, devoid of its usual warmth. "we saw the shoes at the door. we need to talk." 
haechan pulls out until only his tip is still inside you, and slams back in aggressively, filling you to the brim. he starts to build a rhythm, thrusting deep and slow inside you, letting you feel the drag of him against your walls as he strokes your clit with his fingers. he was taking his time with you — pausing to lean forward and press kisses to your shoulders, mouthing messily over your skin. 
"haechan, please -" you try to keep your voice quiet, but he chooses this time to fuck you a little harder, picking up the pace, and your mouth hangs open as your aborted whimpers turn into drawn out moans.  
"hm?" he prompts, faking nonchalance. but you can feel that the pace is affecting him too, his breathing growing heavier as he speeds up a little more. 
"harder," you mumble, words feeling thick and slow in your mouth. "faster. fuck," 
a bang on the door. the loud sound makes you jolt, and haechan hisses as you clench down on him harshly again, your thighs inching closer together, creating a tighter fit around his thick cock. 
"i wonder why they're not coming in yet." his voice in your ear is low, sultry. the kind he uses on-stage when he's teasing the crowd. 
"i-isn't the door l-locked?" 
"sure…but it's a really old lock. i know mark could open it if he really wanted to. he's done it before when i'm late for rehearsals, ah fuck-" he's slamming himself into you, barely pulling out before pushing in again, wet sounds filling the room. "fuck, you must really like that. how do you just keep getting tighter and tighter, hm?" 
"haech–" 
"maybe i'll ask them to come in…" he muses, his tone sickly sweet. "i just know you'll cum hard on my cock when they open the door, right? let them see how filthy you are?" 
"don't –", you choke. 
"should i tell them not to come in?" 
"no," you gasp, and he laughs, darkly. 
"no, i should tell them to come in?" he asks between breathless pants, pace unrelenting as the lewd sound of skin against skin fills the room. "you want me to talk to them baby?" 
you let out an incoherent mumble, no longer sure of anything. 
he coos at that. "dumb already, princess?" his hand wanders up to your chest, blunt nails haphazardly scraping across your nipples. your hips push back onto him instinctively, fucking yourself onto his length, your hips chasing pleasure from the sensitivity as you cum. 
"haechan, i'm not leaving until you open the door." another thud, as mark sits down. 
"fuck…" haechan's only half listening to mark as he throws his head back, murmuring curses as he feels you clench around him, milking his cock. it takes all the self control he has to place his hands on your waist, stilling your movements as he pulls out of you. he's so hard that it hurts, and he knows his release is close, but he still shifts your body until you're lying on your back, and he can see your tear-streaked face, drool smeared all over your chin. 
you mouth his name soundlessly, fresh waves of tears gathering on your waterline as you see him move away from you, and you try to sit up to keep him in your line of sight. 
"haechan, –" 
"i'm here," he murmurs, one hand immediately finding yours and squeezing, the other grappling for the water bottle on the bedside table. he unscrews the cap with one hand as he moves towards you, helping you prop yourself up against the headboard. "drink." 
he holds the bottle up to your lips, but you shake your head. "want you," you whisper, even though your mouth feels warm and sticky, your throat dry from moaning. you can't focus on anything except for the emptiness inside you, your clit throbbing whenever you shift your thighs together slightly. you're focused on his hard length, the slope of his shoulders down to his slender waist. you shake your head again, knocking the bottle against your lips and spilling a little bit of the water onto the sheets. 
"don't be a brat." his voice is low, a dangerous sort of patience in his tone. "drink, or i won't give you what you want." 
you swallow, his voice washing over you, pulling you under. this time when he raises the bottle to your lips, you hold it with shaky hands, letting water trickle down your throat. his own hand comes up, touching two fingers to your neck gently, making sure you were drinking instead of pretending by feeling for the movement of your throat.  
"done?" he watches you lick your parted lips, dewy with water and saliva, and takes the bottle from you, placing it back on the stand. "do you want to keep going?" 
you nod, slowly. 
"use your words," he commands, quietly. 
"please don't stop," you plead, shuffling towards him. it feels like the fog has cleared slightly in your head, the water making the heat haze dissipate. vaguely, you're sure that mark, jisung, and jeno must know what you were doing – must have heard the headboard thumping against the wall, haechan's low groans and your breathless whimpers. 
you wonder what mark is thinking now, outside, not leaving and yet not breaking in like haechan said he could. it sends a wave of arousal down to your core, some part of you wanting him to see the way you break for haechan, completely and wholly his. your way of rejecting him without having to see his face – your way of explaining why you ignored him whenever he caught your eyes during shows and after-parties. 
haechan reads you easily, observing the way your eyes flicker to the door. he's torn between opening the door himself — letting mark see you on his bed, fucked stupid by him, or stepping outside and telling mark to leave because no one should see or hear you like this but him. 
"do you want me to tell mark to leave?" 
"n-no," you hesitate. "don't."
he raises his eyebrows. "why?" 
"w-want him to know that i'm yours," you mumble, a hand wrapping around his thigh and squeezing. 
haechan's eyes darken. “mine?” he echoes, quietly, almost gently.
you're so focused on the shift in his features – the set of his jaw, the way he tenses, that you barely notice he's sliding off the bed and picking you up effortlessly so that you cling to his upper body, legs gripping his waist. his lip curls into a smile, head tilted mockingly as he starts to walk, strong arms holding you up.
your back hits solid wood, and you gasp. 
"haechan?" mark's voice is crystal clear on the other side of the door. 
haechan adjusts his grip, pushing you against the door as he slides his tip along your dripping cunt, making you squirm in his hold. 
"be good, hm?" he whispers, as he pushes into you, eyes squeezing shut and jaw dropping open at the feeling of your walls sucking him back in, pulsing along his length and making his cock throb. when he opens his eyes again, his gaze is unfocused, hazy, and you can see that this situation is heightening his arousal, causing his thrusts to be sloppy and unfocused as he chases his own high. each time he pushes into you, the weight of his hips snapping against yours pushes against the door, and you hear it jolt a little, the lock jiggling.
mark's shouted expletive rings against your ears, mirrored by haechan's own as he captures your lips in a kiss. the feeling is familiar and new at the same time, his tongue sliding languidly over yours, swiping against your bottom lip. at the sight of your parted mouth and wet lips, he moans again, and without hesitating he spits into your waiting mouth, sloppy and messy, causing it to dribble past your lips and down your chin. 
the rhythm against the door is unmistakable, and you can hear footsteps as mark runs off. haechan laughs, a pleased hum in his chest that vibrates against your own as he leans into you, and he mouths down your neck, biting at your shoulder and letting his low groan scrape against his throat as a growl. you cum when your stiff nipples brush against his chest, the tiny bit of stimulation just enough to throw you over the edge into your orgasm, your thighs clenching around him as you sob, your core aching. 
the feeling of your walls rippling around his length is too much to bear, and he barely lets you ride out your orgasm on him before he's pulling out of you and carrying you back to his bed. haechan tugs off the condom urgently as you lie there, tired and spent, watching as he strokes his length, fast, eyes fluttering open and shut with lust, his hips thrusting forward uncontrollably. his thumb ghosts just under the head of his cock, and then he's cumming all over your stomach and chest, sticky white spurts pooling on your skin. 
you watch him out of half-lidded eyes as his breathing slows, collapsing next to you in a heap. the high from the sex hasn't faded yet – the consequences of being heard by all his bandmates hasn't hit you, as you bask in the temporary glow of being his. 
a finger traces along the cum on your stomach, haechan transfixed by the sight. curious, your hands grab for the small mirror on his bedside table, and he comes out of his daze, handing it to you wordlessly. 
in the moonlight, the marks he's made on your skin blur with the shadows. no part of you looks untouched — your tear-streaked face and kiss-swollen lips, bruises on your hips and the sting of the bite mark on your shoulder. your hands tremble a little as you focus the mirror on where his fingers play with his drying cum on your skin, tracing lines and curves. 
"'m yours," you mumble out. 
"yeah?" he chokes. "mine?" 
dazedly, you point to your neck. "yours." 
he groans, just watching you, eyes roving over your body. "you're beautiful," he whispers. you think he means it.
"more." your voice is quiet. 
"no more, baby," he murmurs, looking up at you with concern. "it's too much for you." 
you shake your head. "these could be from anyone," you point at the marks on your neck. his body tenses, hands stiff on your skin. "i want to be yours." 
slowly, your words settle over him. he looks at you with an unreadable expression, the kind you see right before he strikes his first chord, the moment his eyes find yours in the crowd. a dark sort of determination, in the way his holds your gaze. 
he reaches over, and opens a drawer. you can hear the sound of things knocking around inside as he roots his hand around, finally emerging with an eyeliner pen. through the mirror, you can see his hands splayed out over the space just under your breasts, pulling the skin over your ribcage taut. his tongue pokes out into the lower corner of his mouth as he places the tip of the pen to your skin. 
he loops once. skids the pen downwards. jerks it up harshly, ending off with jagged motions, each brush trailing ink on your skin. 
when he's done he leans backwards, raising his eyebrows, asking you wordlessly if this was finally enough. his signature on your body, next to the bruises and marks and last remnants of his cum on your skin. 
"haechan?" 
he doesn't respond, but a part of you expects it already – you've memorized the way he leaves. 
"why didn't you fuck that girl tonight?" 
he takes his time, taking a long sip from his bottle of wine. from where you lie on the bed, you can just see the broad frame of his back, his side profile as he looks out of the window and at the moon, bright in the sky, the milky glow illuminating his skin. without his makeup, he looked like just a boy – pretty features almost dainty on his face. it's his hands which break the facade, calloused and rough, with veins that make your head spin when you think about them for too long, holding the bottle up to his lips. 
"didn't feel like it." 
you think about his answer, blinking slowly from the sleepiness. "why did you fuck me?" 
he faces forward, away from you. "felt like it."  
"why?" 
"i'm beginning to question that too," he replies, bluntly.
hurt aches in your bones, as silence rings loud in your ears. "if you don't want me here i can just go," you say, softly, and you're sure your voice sounds as wounded as you feel. "you've cleaned me up. i can leave if you want." 
you can see him stiffen, his shoulders tensing up. 
"where's jaemin?" 
of course. sitting up, you wince at the ache between your legs. "he's probably asleep," you answer, bitterly. "but i can just call a cab –"
his back muscles tense, and then he's shifting from where he sits on the edge of the bed. sliding into the space next to you, he rests back against the headboard, legs stretched out over the sheets. a hand wraps around yours. 
"ask me easier questions," he mumbles, turning your palm over so he can lace your fingers together, giving them a reassuring squeeze. 
your breath stutters. 
"what did you talk about? with the band?" 
after cleaning you up and tucking you into bed, haechan had finally stalked out of the bedroom to talk to mark, jisung and jeno. he hadn't said a thing when he returned, holding a bottle of wine, placing it on the bedside table before stepping into the bathroom wordlessly to remove his makeup. 
haechan blinks down slowly at your intertwined hands. "they asked me what was going on." 
"what?" 
"i've been losing focus," he mumbles. "during shows and during rehearsal. and jeno noticed i kept ditching girls at parties, said it wasn't like me to not be fucking around at all." 
a beat. 
you bite your lip. "you're…you're losing focus?" 
but he just shakes his head. "they're wrong." 
you can see that the topic is upsetting him, so you rush to ask another question. "do you write any of the songs that the band play?" 
he raises his eyebrows. "so you care so much about the band now? does that mean you're a fan?" 
he ignores your mumbled excuse, squeezing your hand again to let you know he was teasing. "mark usually writes the songs," he answers. "i don't have much to write about." and then, with a little more force, "ask me questions about me, not the band."
"what does this tattoo mean?" you place the tip of your finger just below his ribcage, where there's a small doodle of a bear paw. 
"people say i look like a bear," he mumbles, a little shy. even in the moonlight, his pouty lips and round cheeks are evident, his shoulders broad as he slumps against the headboard. 
"i see it," you confirm, and a smile flickers on his face. 
"yeah?" he looks over at you, and his free arm loops around your shoulder, squeezing you into his side. his affection buzzes in your veins, as you try to divert his attention with another question. 
"and what does this tattoo mean?" your other hand comes up again, now to trace at the sunflower peeking out from the base of his neck, trailing down to his shoulder. 
he takes a deep breath. "my sister picked it." 
"sister?" 
"baby sister," he adds, softly. "she just turned six. this is her favorite flower." 
"oh." 
"why?" he tilts his head, bumping your own gently. "do i not seem like an older brother?" 
"i think…" you hum, contemplating. "not when you're onstage," you decide.
"do you think i'm different? from when i'm onstage?" 
"i don't know you enough to judge," you say, truthfully. aside from the sex, and from the brief moments right after when it felt like he was truly there, holding you, the haechan you knew was mostly the one flooded with stage lights, the kind of boy you had to beg to earn his attention. 
haechan goes quiet, his hand on yours stilling, and you turn to look at him. tension is filling up the room, slow and thick like a fog, and you can't breathe against the weight of everything — the weight of his gaze, the almost boyish way his eyes flick down to your lips and back up to meet yours. 
"do you want to?" 
you bite your lip. 
maybe two weeks ago your heart would have leapt, maybe you would have begged for the opportunity to have him closer. 
but your body has already had time to learn disappointment, to defend yourself against his callousness and his cold, learning the art of slipping in and out of intimacies. every line crossed, every boundary blurred. 
"do i want to?" you echo, and you see him falter. 
maybe his own words held more weight than he'd anticipated. 
"you don't?" 
or maybe he was just scared to hear your answer. 
"will you let me?" you reflect the question back to him. his fingers twitch against your shoulder where he's still holding you.
there were some nights where it felt as if he was taking his adrenaline out on your body, or where he was making you forget the fear of being caught by overriding your senses with pleasure. there were others when you fell so deep into a headspace, that he would care for you gently, something romantic and tender in the negative space between your bodies. 
and ultimately all of these nights ended the same – the same curl of his lip, his face closed-off, his voice too steady and unfeeling.
"how would you let me know you?" it's only when he flinches when you catch the harshness to your tone, your own words leaving a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. "by barely letting things slip every night?" 
"y/n…" it's not meant as a warning. your name is spoken softly, with an ache in it that makes goosebumps rise up your arms. "i thought you were fine." 
"i am," you insist, feeling defensive. "i'm fine with you pretending you don't know me, or when you disappear on the drive home." 
"y/n, –" 
"just…don't say things if you don't mean them," you finish, mumbling your words to mute the hurt in them. 
there's a long silence. 
and then, his voice, so delicate and fragile, like he was afraid his words would bruise the space between him and you. 
"we're playing at a bar this friday." 
you make a sound of confusion, and he continues on. "it's only for a few fans who won some sort of a lucky draw. they get to talk to us and get autographs." 
"i didn't enter," you cut in, but still he continues on, as if he was trying to get the words out before he lost his nerve.
"i'm inviting you now. and….and afterwards i'll leave with you and we can go to my place." he swallows. "my real apartment. not this one i share with the band." he lets out a shaky breath. "i don't… i don't usually bring girls there, if you can't tell."  
"but…" the wheels in your head are turning slowly, as you try to catch up with what he's saying. "but if i'm there… and it's such a small crowd…the band is going to see that i'm there. 
"they will," he confirms quietly. 
"they're going to know you invited me. because i'm not a fan." 
his lips twitch. "but you like me, no?" 
"i do," you concede, absentmindedly. "but i thought you said…the band…" 
"i don't think i really care about that anymore." his thumb dips low, brushing over the space under your ribs where his name is temporarily tattooed against your skin. "i…" he hesitates, before his thumb swipes against your skin again, and he takes a deep breath. "i told them about you. just now." 
you feel like you're falling – a sense of vertigo making your head spin.
"what did you say?" 
"just that…there was a you," he finished, lamely. "that we see each other more, but it's nothing." his hand squeezes yours, a gentle pulse. "nothing yet, anyway."
"i'll take it," you murmur, holding his hand clasped in both of yours and kissing him lightly on his fingertips. his face crumples, his chest caving in on itself with the weight of the tenderness he feels for you in that moment, and he leans in, tilting his head, eyes fluttering closed. 
he kisses you like it's a promise, close-lipped and earnest. it feels almost like the two of you are finally on even ground. 
— 
"what are you trying to do?" 
you jump, as the light in the small kitchenette flicks on. dirty dishes pile up in the sink, mugs scattered over the countertop, and the boy leaning against the fridge focuses his gaze on you. his voice is gentle, a mellow sort of sweetness undercut by the deepness of his voice. not in the way jisung's was deep, but a bass to it that gave it authority, one that the boy seldom had to use. 
"what do you mean?" 
jeno tilts his head. "y/n, do you know why haechan likes to fuck girls after his shows?" 
the sweetness on your tongue from haechan's kiss decays into bitterness. 
jeno doesn't seem to care. "he gets high off the feeling of the crowd. it's something he doesn't want to let go of, so he finds someone who adores him and makes them prove it." his eyes bore into yours, unblinking. "he doesn't care who he's with, y/n. he just likes the way they sound, screaming his name." 
"but why doesn't-" you choke. it  feels almost like you're betraying him. "why doesn't he date?" 
jeno raises his eyebrows, and you feel pathetic. it’s a long time before he finally answers.
"all the girls are only after the version of him onstage. it's him they like, and haechan's just extending the performance. would you want to date someone who only liked one side of you?"
"but i don't just like that side of haechan," you protest, weakly. even then, you don't know what other sides you're alluding to — was it his gentleness with you? how he always held you after? the one who let his baby sister pick his tattoos?
"y/n?" 
a soft voice sounds out from the corridor leading off into the bedrooms. sleep-ridden syllables mumbling out into the still air, calling your name. 
"where are you? is everything okay?"
jeno's looking at you with someone like pity in his eyes, the way your body turns towards his voice like an instinct. "haechan isn't even his real name, did you know that?" 
he crosses over to you, and places his mug into the sink behind your back. "try not to get too loud," he murmurs. "we're all tired." 
and as haechan pulls you into his warm embrace, palms wandering over your skin, you bite your tongue and keep as quiet as possible.
haechan's head snaps up as he sees the door swing open again and more girls wander into the bar. there are excited squeals and shouts as they spot the band, he can hear mark's warm laugh and see jisung's wave out of his peripheral vision. behind him, jeno's methodically checking on his drum kit, and haechan can feel his eyes on the back of his neck, as if he knew. 
his eyes scan the crowd again, praying he was wrong. but deep down he knows he would recognise your voice anywhere, be able to spot your features even in total darkness. 
and right now, you weren't there at all. 
his body goes on autopilot, muscle memory kicking in as he plays the chords, does his solos, nods along to the music. the crowd is frenetic, watching the way his eyebrows are drawn together, tonguing at his cheek, his lips downturned — the anger tense in his body making them whisper to themselves, wondering why this was part of his performance today. he keeps his expression slack as he signs autographs, nodding curtly towards fans as they bid him goodbye timidly, intimidated by his stormy gaze. 
he doesn't understand why it makes his insides twist, each time he searches the crowd and darts his eyes back to his guitar. maybe he'd just gotten used to seeing you front row at his shows. maybe that was all this was — and you were a bad habit he should have broken. 
it's what he tells himself as he lets his hands brush against the girl's as she holds her poster out to him, smiling a close-lipped smile, eyes dragging up and down his body excitedly. he lets her think it's a part of the performance, as he rails her in the bathroom of the bar, his eyes squeezed shut as she moans his name into the sink, trying to ignore the way her body didn't react at all like yours did, that his hands couldn't find purchase on her skin at all, and her voice made him want to crawl out of his skin. 
you were a bad habit he should break — at least that's what he tells himself to keep him sane.
-> part 2 here!
taglist: @neochan, @ahncosette, @18shy @kittydollzz @jenoslutie @pussymode @yyfka @cheolctrl @jaeminsballs @mysummerhyuck @strawberrytyong @rosiejunnie @nctzen4eva @haechskies @wickedrei @sundamariis @simpforarmihn @liliansun @lanadreamie @nodisdino @angelwonie @foxydumps @manooffline @moonsmias @skzct7 @iscocohere @ficrecnctskz @smwhrinthehaze (sorry there were q a few i couldn't tag!)
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neopuppy · 3 months
Text
I’m Here To Save You (M)
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pairing. alpha johnny x female omega reader
genre. traditional a/b/o AU, friends to lovers, mild angst, fluff, pwp, m/f, one shot
warnings. profanity, alpha/omega dynamics, mating ceremony, pack head Alpha Johnny, size difference, use of Alpha voice, dominant but soft Johnny. smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.
wc. 15k
now playing. pied piper//bts
smut warnings. unprotected rough sex, public sex- with audience, biting, breeding, knotting, etc
a/n. I am aware of Johnny’s actual tattoos, in case it needs to be said. my apologies for the floof🫤😑
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・
By now you’d wish to have gotten the hang of climbing up a tree.
Hissing between your teeth as you pick at splinters cutting through your palm, you lean back into a more comfortable position against a large branch just in time to catch a glimpse of the group of Alphas marching out of the village for a hunt. It’d be another week condemned to the stables cleaning horse shit if any of them were to find you this deep in the woods again. 
For the most part you’ve managed to sneak around unnoticed, only catching the attention of a few elders who realized you’d been missing most of the day as you passed by and smiled inconspicuously.
Sometimes you just need to be alone, get away from the pack’s rules and hierarchy, all the duties and mundane tasks implemented. Even if your motive to distance yourself these days has less to do with wanting to be alone and more with needing to get away from a certain somebody that can’t seem to leave you alone.
“You know,” a familiar voice cuts through the trees. Long legs and thick brown hair with golden bits emerging before you can see his face in the light. “The day my father finds you out here this far from the pack, I won’t have any way to protect your ass from the punishment you’ll undoubtedly face.”
“He hasn’t caught me.” You respond, sneering down at your friend arching his neck back with a hand over his eyes to shield the sun and squint up at you. 
“Yet.” He states, snapping his fingers toward you with his free hand. “Get down from there.”
“No.”
“It’s not safe!” He hisses, peering back over his shoulder to ensure the Alphas have made it past the clearing already. “For someone like you to be up there.”
“Someone like me?” You spit, ripping a small tree branch free to hurl at his face. “What the hell is that supposed to mean!”
He sighs, stepping back to dodge your weak attempt to hurt him. “Don’t make me come up there.”
“Go away.”
“No.” Setting his hands on his hips he motions toward the lake with his head. “Let’s go swimming, it’s a nice day and with the Alphas gone it’s pretty empty.”
“Don’t want to.” You sigh, leaning back on the thick part of the tree. 
“Please? I already lied to Jaehyun to get out of hanging out with him today.” Reaching for the satchel laid on his hip, he pulls out a bottle antiseptic. “Bet your hands are really beat from scaling this ancient tree too. Come on, don’t make me beg to hang out with my best friend.”
Jaehyun’s your best friend. You want to snap back at him, huffing and frowning as you pick at a small splinter. 
“The waters perfect right now..” 
“Beg.” You say, peering down with a smile.
He chuckles, head shaking, pressing his hands against the tree. “Yeah? Should I get on my knees and cry? Would that make you come down?”
“Perhaps..”
“I said—“ with gritted teeth he grips onto the trunk of the tree firmly and shakes, adding kicks in-between. “Get down from there!”
“Johnny!” He’s stronger than you’d think from his gangly appearance, at least able to shake your position enough to clutch onto a large branch and curse as more bits of wood cut through your palm. “Stop it!”
“Are you coming down?!”
“Fine! You stupid neanderthal!”
“Nice one.” Catching his breath he moves back enough to grant you space to come down, reaching for your waist once you’re close enough to the ground. “I seriously hate when you sneak off without telling anyone.”
“It’s not a big deal.” You heave out of breath, swatting his hands away. Johnny’s persistent, grabbing a hold of your wrists and spinning you around to face him. 
“‘No.” He mutters, tsking under his breath. “It’s a huge deal. Goddess look at your hands.” A frown takes over his features, kneeling down to empty his bag in search of tweezers. “I only carry these around because of you.”
“I’m fine.” You scoff, ignoring the sting shooting through your hands. “I’ll wash them out in the water.”
“And risk infection?” Standing back up, he grabs onto your wrist again, turning your palm to face him. “Have your mother blame me for allowing you to ruin your delicate soft skin?”
“And who’s to say I need your permission to do anything?” You scowl, attempting to free your hand from his grip that only tightens.
“You know she expects me to look out for you.” Ignoring your petulance, he raises your hand up to carefully dissect a splinter from your middle finger, gentle with each movement to not make this hurt more than it has to. “As future head Alpha I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Yeah yeah yeah.” You snort sarcastically, rolling your eyes to avoid looking at the taller. “Pack Alpha this and that.”
“Right.” Johnny nods, dabbing a cloth drenched with antiseptic after each splinter removal. “This hatred towards Alphas, how exactly will that work and play out after I’ve presented?”
“Won’t matter.” You shrug, foregoing your struggle to allow him to bandage your palm up. 
“And why’s that?”
“My mother’s a Beta, my father’s an Alpha.” You say as if that’s enough of an answer.
Johnny’s gaze raises to yours, biting down on his lip. “Mmm.. right.” 
Squinting back at him, you shove his shoulder, nodding in the direction of the lake. “Let’s go before it gets too late.”
Too late, not referring to sundown but to the real reason you’ve journeyed out to the woods more and more these days. It’s around the corner, ready to rear its ugly head and ruin the one friendship you can always count on. Ruin the genuine care and love that’s formed between the two of you over the years.
“Loser has to clean out the pups dirty diaper can this week!” He shouts, running past you toward the lake.
“Johnny!” You whine, losing your breath to chase after him and grab onto the back of his shirt. “That’s not fair!”
“Hey!” He growls playfully, spinning around to grip around your waist as you tug on his collar and stretch the material out. “Let go!”
“You’re a cheater!” You hiss, aiming for his chest to punch lightly. “Be fair!” 
“Fine.” He laughs, releasing you to drop his satchel and tug his shirt off. “3 laps.” Pointing from one end of the lake to the other he motions between the two of you, knowing you can kick his ass at swimming anyday. “Me and you.”
“Deal.” Shoving down your hoodie and shorts, you barrel into his side and run past him to cannonball onto the water first. “Loser!”
“Hey!” Johnny jumps out of his shorts, pouncing in after you, arms paddling rapidly to race after you. “What’s fair about this!”
“Me winning!” 
You’re out of breath by the time you finish the last lap and bend over belly flat onto the rocks lining the lake. Johnny stops next to you shortly after, resting on his forearms as he mimics your position and swallows down air. 
“Hey, I’m getting better at this.” He says breathlessly, stomach sucking in and out. 
“Only because you’ve had an insane growth spurt..” you mumble, bracing your arms to shove out of the lake and move to the dry patch of grass nearby. 
He takes a few more minutes to bask in the sun, skin glistening with golden rays streaming across his back and shoulders. The hours spent outside during summer really brightened up his complexion, painting his hair with light brassy  streaks. It’s the same every year, as if the sun wants to be around him at all times, melting into his skin and soft brown eyes as he lifts his head and stretches.
“Yeah, dad measured me the other day.” He responds after a while, lifting his long torso to push up and out of the water and plop down by your side. “Grew another two inches..”
“Yeah, I can tell..” you mumble, looking away and rubbing at your arms. 
“So, why don’t we ever talk about it?” He says quietly, picking at shards of grass by his hip. “He thinks I’ll present soon, like.. really soon.”
Instead of opening the door to what a conversation like this can lead to, you shrug and roll your neck back to crack. “Let’s head back before it starts getting dark.”
Johnny lets out a tired sigh, teeth gritted as he stands up and follows after you, grabbing your elbow. “Don’t be like this.”
“Like what?”
He’s silent for a moment, head tilted and analyzing your lack of expression before letting you go. “It could be years until we see eachot—“
“I don’t care, okay? Drop it.”
“How could you not care?!” He asks, eyes wild and bewildered. “Do you not care about me??”
“Of course I care about you!” You shout, tearing your arm away from him. “But this is inevitable, it’s your destiny!”
“And you?” He’s quick to cut you off, stepping closer. “What about you? Are you a part of that destiny? Because right now I really feel like you’re trying to push me away and forget my existence.”
If only it was that easy.
“There’s nothing more to be said Johnny.” 
His gaze lowers seemingly disappointed, softly nodding, biting his bottom lip before a tremble can pass through. “Can I say something?”
No. Please don’t. Don’t make this harder on me than it already is.
“Fine.”
“Take care of yourself, for my sake? And please, stay close to the pack. Try to have some guilt in your conscience that your best friend can’t get a proper night of sleep while worrying about you running into a feral rogue or breaking a leg out there without anyone to find you.”
“Can you tell my friend that I’m not helpless and can very well fend for myself?” You retort, turning and stomping away back to the trail leading toward your pack's land. 
Johnny huffs, shaking his head and gathering the clothes you both discarded, clutching your hoodie for a minute in thought. There’s barely a scent on it, a hint of your mother and father’s lingering, really nothing more than a light memory of the times he’s walked you back to your cabin. If not for the nice weather today he’d chase after you and tackle you down until you cover up, staggering behind instead to stuff your sweater up to his nose.
He shouldn’t, not even allowed to innocently scent you let alone do anything like this. His father would be so disappointed with him, always lecturing him about befriending a girl like you. Very stubborn and unruly, always disobeying the pack Omegas that only want what’s best for you.
But this could be his last chance to savor something from you for some time, because he’d never ask you to scent.. as if you’d ever let him. The smell left behind is barely enough to taste, most of the scent belonging to your Alpha father, smokey and musk. Relaxing against a tree trunk he sighs, clutching the material to his chest solemnly. As stubborn as you may be, he can’t help to think you’re hurting more than you’re willing to show. 
You’d always been resilient toward him, avoiding him even after the first encounter you’d ever had. 
The pack Alphas son that everyone admires and adores, all except you.
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・
“Where’s Johnny?” You ask sheepishly, staggering nearby the head Alphas cabin too chicken to actually knock on the door for an answer. Things hadn’t ended on the best note yesterday, and typically by now your friend would have sought you out, probably dragged you to the canteen for a snack since you slept through breakfast again.
“What do you mean?” Jaehyun snickers, passing by with bags full of manure on his way to the stables. “You didn’t hear?”
“Hear what?” You ask, mildly panicked.
Jaehyun scoffs quietly, glancing around cautiously for head Alphas presence. “He presented.”
“What?!” 
“Shh!” He hisses, grabbing your arm to drag you along with him and out of the pack leaders' close proximity. “How could you not know?! Last night, head Omega had to stay with the elders because Johnny’s rut hit.”
“Rut.. meaning—he’s..”
“Oh come on.” Jaehyun rolls his eyes, flicking your chin.” “You always knew, don’t you remember the first time we met?”
Of course you remember.
When you’re five years old, you get dropped off at the learning center for the first time. It’s not much, depending on the amount of Omegas vs Alphas amongst your pack. No more than 30 pups ranging in elementary age running around screaming.
That’s when you meet Jaehyun of the Jung lineage. He’s the first boy to ever make fun of you. Stuck to share a desk with him based on the proximity of your last names. Jaehyun prods your cheek with the end of his pencil. Asking you why they’re so round, adding a jab by showing off the deep indents on his own. 
He follows you out to the field when the lead Omega instructor dismisses you for break. Skipping along your side boasting about how he’s already begun learning archery. 
“My dads one of the strongest Alphas the pack has!” He gloats. Drawing an arm back to shoot an invisible arrow toward the forest that surrounds your village. “Says I’ll be just like him someday, better even!”
Squinting at him, you nod, lacking the same enthusiasm he has. Opting to search for a toy to occupy your free time, you browse through the crates piled together outside. A yo-yo could be fun, once you untangle the string another pup had evidently left to be discarded.
“Hey!” Jaehyun smacks the toy out of your hold. Pouting like a petulant upset baby. “Are you even listening to me?”
“Why did you do that?” A taller boy interrupts the two of you. Bending down to grab the yo-yo that’s rolled away, hitting the toe of his sneaker. He lifts it up with a bit of inspection, beginning to unravel the string. 
“..oh..Johnny..” Jaehyun stammers. His once bratty tone falling into a hushed one lacking confidence. “I was just messing around.”
Johnny, as Jaehyun calls him, concentrates on straightening out the toys string. Winding it up with ease and gesturing for you to take it once he’s finished.
“Should be all good to use now.” He smiles brightly. Having to lean his neck down as he looks over your lost expression. With the corners of his lips dropping to a pronounced frown, he blares Jaehyun with a cold stare. “Don’t do that again okay? No future strong Alpha of our pack would behave in such a manner.”
Flitting you with a rushed look, he turns away. Meeting up with a few other pups who seemed closer to his age. Jaehyun grumbles at your side, crossing his arms over his chest. His small foot lifting to a stomp for added dramatics.
“Great, now he’s going to snitch on me to the Head Alpha. I wasn’t even doing anything bad!” Jaehyun cries out. Sucking on his bottom lip in thought. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Nodding quietly, you loop the yo-yo’s thread around your index finger. Having to tighten it from where Johnny had left it. 
Jaehyun continues to follow you around, quite talkative for a pup. Too talkative in comparison to you. Directing you to walk in any direction that wouldn’t bring you any closer to the boy that had clearly left him shook up. 
“Do you know him?” You wonder. Glancing to where Johnny spikes a volleyball high above a net setup. The opposition weakened by a powerful collision meeting his chest. 
“Pft, of course!” Jaehyun gawks, fitting you with widened eyes. “That’s Head Alpha’s firstborn son! You can’t be serious right? He’s most likely to lead our pack some day.”
The yo-yo zips up with speed, caught in your grip tightly, mewling over Jaehyun’s explanation. Cheers to your left pull you to catch sight of the pup who had helped you. Hoisted up off his feet by a group of others who cheered from a victorious outcome of whatever game they had been playing.
Johnny was destined to be an Alpha. 
It shouldn’t come as a surprise to hear the news that your best friend finally presented. If anything, you’re disappointed. You’d been too mean yesterday.. really for the last few weeks as if you could sense it coming. 
“Since he’s presented, I’m sure we’ll be going next.” Jaehyun interrupts your inner turmoil, rubbing his chin. “Can feel my Alpha ready to break free any minute now.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, typically it’s somewhat of a domino effect. One Alpha presents and suddenly a slew of Omegas appear.. which triggers our Alphas.” He explains as if you’re clueless.
“Not that. I mean, I’m not going anywhere. Except to help in the kitchens along with the rest of the Betas.” You say surely, waving an arm out. “Maybe I’ll end up in the farms, wherever I get assigned to.”
Jaehyun laughs amused, eyebrows raised high. “Sweetie, you’re about as Omega as they come.”
Instead of letting the same comment you’ve heard most of your life get to you, you shrug it off and glance back toward the head Alphas cabin. “Will I get to see him again?”
Jaehyun hums. “Probably in a few weeks, you know.. when they start to separate us.”
Knowing you’d left things in a somewhat awkward place with your friend really dragged your heart through the mud, making your way back to the lake you’d been at just the day before full of regret that you’d been cutting him off and spending less time together. Perhaps deep down inside you knew the feelings you continued to stomp down into nothing consisted of a culmination of fear and anger. Anger because you don’t want to lose him, fear of what the future holds in store for you once you have inevitably presented. Fear that you will end up stuck with the Omegas until adulthood. Anger that you can’t seek Johnny to comfort your worries anymore.
Jaehyun was right, as everyone has always been about you. The domino effect took its toll on the pack, triggering heats and ruts alike until yours hit in the middle of the night and consumed you with the worst pain you’ve ever felt. 
A pain of yearning and insatiable hunger, hunger that had one name written at the back of your tongue, attempting to swallow it down before your Omega could break free and shout his name out. Tears burned down your face as you fisted at your bedding and grinded your hips down, not even the strongest elixir of ancient herbs could quell your lust for the Alpha.
Johnny Johnny Johnny..
His name swirled through your mind, each memory and touch you ever shared, his hold on your waist and shoulders, the difference in size between you just this last year.
“Alpha..”
With 20 pack members presenting the council decided it’s time to move you onto your next step. 
You pleaded and cried in your mother’s arms begging for her to do something to stop this, to let you stay with her somehow, someway. Realistically no amount of tears could stop the assimilation you all must face. 
“It will be over before you know it my love.” She said sweetly, braiding your hair the night before you’re to move to the Omega quarters. 
Won’t be over soon enough, you think, keeping your thoughts to yourself the more your eyes puff up. Sleep would be hard to come by tonight, knowing tomorrow changes everything. The days of being a young careless pup with lack of responsibility change now, cursed by your damn Omegan genetic chemistry. Because whether you accepted it or not, the chances of a Beta mating anything other than a Beta rarely ever led to the same sub-gender offspring. Even your mother always hinted and skirted around the idea of you presenting as an Omega, never an Alpha with your delicate soft nature, no matter how hard headed you may be.
“At least you will get to see your friends once more tomorrow.” She said as she tucked you in and kisses your forehead. “I’m sure they’re eager to congratulate you on presenting.”
Friends.
The only friend she’s ever even seen you with being the pack Alphas son. She knew very well how odd your relationship is, being that you don’t even come from one of the stronger lineages. Perhaps her prayers to the moon goddess to grant her daughter a prosperous future had been answered. Time would tell..
Sunlight entered your room right as your eyes were ready to fall shut after failed attempts of counting sheep to shut your mind off. Nothing could stop your incessant fear from escalating knowing what a new day would bring.
“We don’t want to be late, princess. It’s time.” Your father chirped happily from your bedroom door, gathering the bag you’d be taking with you later today.
No, of course you wouldn’t want to be late to the induction ceremony. Even with a stomach full of nerves as you made your way to the divided trails leading to sectioned off lands for Alphas and Omegas you tried to calm yourself, take deep breaths, fiddle with your hands until you had no choice but to ball them up in tight fists.
“My baby’s grown so much.” Your mother cuts the unbearable loud silence pounding in your head, smoothing loose tendrils away from your face. “You’ll surely make us proud in there, receive many merits and accolades from the elder Omegas.”
“I’ll do my best.” You say solemnly, leaning your cheek into her palm one last time. “I’ll miss you both so much.”
“Soon soon, angel. Everything will go by so fast, you’ll be back in no time.”
The ceremony to send you off lasted no longer than a few minutes after all goodbyes were said, staggering behind before making your way to catch up with the rest of the newly presented Omegas. You slowly turn to look over your shoulder, breath lodged in your throat when you find his gaze already on you. 
“Johnny?” You mouth hopefully. He stands straight, stepping to the side of his group until you’re close enough to take in how much more he’s filled out in mere days. The once gangly long limbs now protrude with muscle, shoulders grown in width, and jawline sharpened with definition as baby fat disappears.  
“Johnny.” You whisper, reaching a hand out for your best friend, now Alpha, to take a hold of. He visibly swallows, a tormented expression streaking across his face as he looks you over.
“I can’t.” He whispers back, blinking furiously. Tugging the straps of his bag on his shoulders tighter. “I can’t..”
He nods swiftly, turning his face away from you with a stiff twist of his neck to keep himself staring ahead. Pain scorches up your gut, burning the pathway leading to your heart as your hand falls limp by your hip and you sniffle back the onslaught of tears already rushing to the backs of your eyes. 
“I’m sorry.” He barely whispers before turning down the opposite path, leaving you with the last memory you’d hold onto for the next 5 years to come.
One last look caught yours before disappearing behind the fence meant to keep new Alpha and Omega apart.
Time. Only more time can make any difference now.
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・
“I can’t wait until we integrate with the rest of the pack.”
“I can.” You say quietly, keeping your head low to not draw the attention of the lead Omegas walking around observing how well you’ve all begun to take on your roles. “I don’t dream of being mated.”
“Ah, well.” Minnie, the bubbly Omega you’ve come to know in your last year by no choice of your own smiles softly, tilting her head dreamily. “I can’t wait to be with my first pup, and finally know my mate. It’s all I can think about.”
Of course it is, you want to say, lowly humming and continuing to brush out the furs dropped off today. They carried all types of scents from the elders, council members, even faint traces of betas. Alpha furs are only to remain within the village grounds, nowhere near unmated Omegas. 
“You really have no desire to mate?” Minnie continues to pester you, smile turning mischievous. “I bet I can change your mind.”
She seems more than up to no good judging by the way her lips tweak to one side before bouncing up onto the balls of her feet, pointing this and that way while hurriedly explaining something to one of the elder Omegas.
“Fine fine Minnie, take that one with you and be back on time to help in the kitchen.” She motions your way, cutting off the younger Omega before she talks her ear off.
She skips on her way back to you, bundling up a few of the furs you’ve been cleaning. “Told her we need to deep clean these to get the smell out.” 
“They don’t sme—“
“Shh!” She rushes, grabbing a hold of your arm to hoist you up and drag you away from the group of Omegas working hard to brush out knots and stains. “You have to be quiet about this okay? I’ll get into so much trouble if the word about this gets back to the council.”
“What are you going on about?!” You grit, failing to shake her arms off. Leaving you with no choice but to follow along as she leads you past the riverbank. 
“I’m telling you, there’s something special a few of the Omegas showed me a while ago.” She says excitedly, teeth on full display as she peers over her shoulder to ensure no one’s nearby. “Over here, these fences behind the leaders cabin.”
“We’re not supposed to go this far..” you say hesitantly, digging your heels into the dirt path to slow her down.
“It’s not prohibited.. but they haven’t renovated these parts in decades..” she explains, using extra strength to make you turn down the short hill that covers most of the fence. “They really should too.”
“Why? Doesn’t it just lead to the village?”
“Well, no..” he trails off, biting down on her lip deviously. “You have to promise not to say anything, alright?”
Sighing, you shrug and wrap around her pinky, unsure of what could possibly be so secretive about this area. She nods, pressing a finger to her lips as you step up to the area covered by old tree branches. “Don’t be loud.”
Releasing your arm, she reaches to move a few branches aside and motions for you to come closer. There behind the mess of greenery are two holes on the old tall wooden fence. You stop for a moment to glance back at her, nodding with her lips pursed for you to look through.
Nothing could have prepared you for what actually resides on the other side of the fence. More water that you didn’t know existed, the rest of the river that’s been cut off by this man-made fence constructed decades ago when the pack struggled to keep Alphas and Omegas consistently equal in numbers. The council decided it best to separate freshly presented pups into individual camps until they experienced their first heat or rut. Segregating the two sub-genders to manage future matings with annual runs. Their plan had been successful after balancing the scale, allowing for their pack to grow healthy and plentiful.
It’s been years since you’ve last seen an Alpha.. until now.
“Is..” you stutter, blinking rapidly. “Is that..”
“The Alphas.” She whispers near your ear, lightly tapping a fingertip against the fence. “They swim and clean off at this stream after their hunts, seems to be only the ones that are soon on their way out of the camp..”
Alphas, playfully shooting water at each other, laughing and rough housing after a morning hunt. They have baskets full of fish lined up near their weapons on the path, a few of them deeper in the water scrubbing their arms and chest clean with cloths. 
“Our future mates could be here right now.” She beams, pushing her cheek against yours to steal a look. “Oh Goddess, it’s him..” 
“Who?”
“Head Alphas son..” she murmurs off, eyes going lazy as she rests against your head for you to both get a look
Head Alphas son? But that would be..
How could you have not immediately noticed him, trudging out from the shallow end of the stream glistening under the daylight sun, shaking off the water cascading from his broad frame the closer he reaches toward the end.
It’s him, it has to be him. 10 inches taller than you remember, hair longer and framed around his much sharper and pronounced bone structure. The baby fat on his cheeks long gone, body built up from years of hunting. The pressure of having to be the strongest and most reputable Alpha evident in his intimidating stance alone.
“Johnny.” The name passes from your lips without realizing, widening Minnie’s eyes as she turns to look at you.
“You know him?”
Know him? He was the last member of your pack that you had contact with before joining the rest of the newly presented Omegas. Even sharing goodbyes with your own family before him. You knew he’d be an Alpha eventually, but you’d never considered how painful it would be to lose your best friend to the otherside. 
The reality always loomed though. The pack Alphas first born son could never present as a Beta, Goddess forbid as an Omega. 
“No.” You reply, clearing your throat and tearing your gaze away. “We shouldn’t be here, it’s against pack law to be in contact with Alphas while unmated.”
“We aren’t contacting them, not really..” she smirks coyly, trapping your arm once more. “Just a little longer? They’ll be on their way eat soon.”
You shouldn’t, should stand your ground and put your foot down against this condemnable behavior.
But one more look can’t hurt much.
One more look just to be certain that it’s him, that it’s really your Johnny.
He’s changed so so much, nearly unrecognizable if you weren’t sure of his residency on the other side of this fence. 
“He’s incredibly handsome, don’t you think?” Minnie disrupts the one on one conversation happening with yourself, looping an arm around your waist to bring you both closer to the holes. “Can you believe we’ll be in the same mating hunt as our next head Alpha?”
“What??” You practically shriek, covering your mouth and pulling away. 
She looks at you half amused, in awe of your clueless nature. “It’s been five years silly, the elders have been discussing lowering our time inside these lands to ensure a strong Winter. The moon goddess predicts we will need many healthy pups due to the severity of climate change that’s recently taken place.”
“How do you know all of this?!”
She sighs, wagging a finger in your face. “You never pay attention during the morning lecture. They say we could be out of here as soon as the next red moon! That’s only a few weeks from now.”
A few WEEKS?! 
“Judging by the look of these Alphas..” she hums flirtatiously, turning back to peep through the fence and suck a long breath in. “They’re certainly ready to hunt, and I’m ready to be chased.”
“The mating hunt, is it guaranteed that all who participate will be mated?” You ask full of worry, dragging fingers through your hair. 
“Of course, that’s the point of all this!” She says, clicking her tongue. “If I didn’t know any better I’d swear you were born yesterday.”
Stealing one more look, she sighs and bites her lip excitedly. “I’m so ready to be out of here.” Turning back to you she grabs your arm. “Let's get back before the elders catch on to us missing. Besides, we’ll be with our Alphas in no time.”
In no time. Too soon. 
And as if to mock your worry the days tick by faster and faster, now very alert during your usual extra nap time in the morning. You listen to every word, biting at your nails by the third week as the elders rejoice that the forecast had been correct and the blood red moon will indeed rise in the next few days. 
“Soon you will birth strong and powerful members to contribute to the pack.” They preached and flounced about full of excite. “Tomorrow we will introduce you back to the pack to prepare for the hunt. Not a hair or patch of dry skin shall appear on you! You must impress your potential Alpha suitors to desire and want to chase you.”
More thrilled than you could ever be about this, they began to distribute scent blockers around the hall. Instructing you all begin using them tonight to ensure no Alpha can trail you off scent. It has to be instinct and intuition to find your true mate.
Once you have presented, every pack Omega is expected to participate in the annual mating ceremony. Ensuring the packs healthy growth to avoid a desolate village.
Your biggest dread of presenting as an Omega subsided as you met your predator's gaze. Stalking around you with snapping teeth and no escape. 
There was no way to predict the Alpha determined to mate you would end up being your best friend.
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・
“I can’t do this.” You whisper, sneaking a watery look at your mother. The reunion with your parents had been too fast, not enough time to plead your case and beg for them to find you another option. She smiles stiffly at you, securing the braids she put your hair in with ribbons.
“Sweety..” she says between clenched teeth, blinking furiously. “Do not embarrass us. It’s an honor that you’ve been summoned to participate in the mating hunt.”
An honor? Giving up your freedom and shred of independence you can barely cling onto for an Alpha? An Alpha that will breed and claim you like nothing more than a whore?
“What’s honorable about this, mother?”
She sighs, painting your cheeks with thin stripes of oil to illuminate your skin and make you more desirable for your possible mate. “I only wish I’d been given the chance you have to strengthen the pack. Omegas are the backbone of our livelihood, without you we’d go extinct faster than animals.”
Popping her mouth for you to mimic she applies a smudge of red tint to your lips, standing proudly after to take in your full appearance. “Without a scent to trail, the Alphas will really have to focus on using their other senses.. and you look ethereal. Always knew you’d grow up to be one of the prettiest in our pack, even if I worried about all those scars you’d come home with all the time.”
“What if I refuse?” You ask wearily, glancing around at the other Omegas being prepped for the hunt.
“You’ll be exiled.” Your mom says sternly, tight lipped as she grips your shoulders to look at her. “Think about your father and I, please. We barely got you back.”
A mixture of guilt and rancid vomit combines in your stomach the longer you stand around and wait for the Alphas to show up. The elders have been greeting each other, smugly smiling as if they’ve accomplished something by forcing young Omegas to hand over their lives and become breeding machines. They gather around and announce the next generation of Alphas to lead the pack. You can’t see their entrance from where you stay hidden with the rest of the Omegas participating, not allowed to see any of your potential mates. Only able to swallow down the throw up that rises up your throat as cheers and roars pound through the earth beneath your feet. Alphas praised for merely existing, for being the breadwinners of the pack that ensure longevity and protection. 
Omegas are the real backbone, as your mother said, whether she meant it or simply wanted to shut you up and finish dolling you for essentially a stranger to ship off with. 
“This is so thrilling.” Minnie pops up next to you, her lips a deep cherry, cheeks stung with the residue to make her skin glow. She looks radiant, lovely as ever, so ready to show off a bite on her beautiful long neck. “I want to be caught already.”
Nothing could compel you to agree, silently nodding to resist the incessant urge to gag. Judging by the giggles and squeals surrounding you, no one seems to share your sentiment. Why would they after years of being brainwashed to want this.
She takes your hand, squeezing and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “May the moon goddess bring you the best Alpha.”
“You too, Min..”
A whistle blows signaling you to line up and ready yourselves to run, everyone scrambles around excitedly, leaving you at the forefront as the elders explain the ‘rules’ again.
“You are not to ever remove your scent blockers, you are to hide once the Alphas begin their hunt. You are forbidden to leave the pack lands, and if you are not claimed you shall immediately report back to the Omega sector until the next red moon. Claimed Omegas are to come back with their Alpha mated. Only once paired off may you re-enter the pack.”
It’s due or die, whether or not you avoid an Alphas claim you’ll never be free from this restrictive life..
The second the horn sets off you run, feet pounding to the earth without a second thought. Heavy breathing and laughter fades away behind you, distancing yourself further and further away from where most of the Omegas will choose to hide, you imagine. The same trees you used to wander through catch your attention out ahead, furiously quickening your pace at the sound of another horn signaling that the Alphas are on the move.
The same forest you spent days hiding inside of is just right outside of your lands, against the rules, but you need to wait it out long enough. Once enough time has passed and the Alphas make their claims you can move back to your packs territory. No one has to know.
Not even the splinters clawing through the skin of your palms can slow you down, hoisting yourself up the largest tree you can find until you manage to get up high and let out a sigh of relief. The pounding in your heart refuses to settle even so, hissing as you wipe your hands off on your tunic and try to adjust your weight onto a thick branch. Even at this proximity you can hear howls and cries, sounds of pleasure ripping through the tears as Omegas go down, claimed and gnawed at by rabid Alphas. 
Time goes by slowly as you sit still and listen, sucking at your wounded hands to ease the sting left behind. It’s nothing compared to the mix of pain swarming between moans. Deep guttural Alpha wails break through the dusk, shifting and breaking bones as they take their conquests and solidify their claim with a knot.
Only a few more hours until it dies down, you hope.. peering up at the clouds that dance around the red moon. Orange light sprays across the ground, illuminating clear paths for predator eyes to seek their prey. They’d never be able to find you up here, unless..
A loud huff snaps your neck toward the entrance of the forest, cracking tree branches and kicking rocks as the sound grows near.
Large, terrifyingly large, medium brown soft with light hints of gold, and eyes you’d recognize even if you suffered from amnesia. Those sharp sleek eyes that you’d never be able to forget no matter how much you try. Why would he come out here? Why did he have to come out here.
There’s only one reason. Snarling and puffing large breaths of air as he slowly paws through and approaches the largest tree, listening attentively for any movement. Sitting back on his hind legs, his gaze lands on you without sparing a second, squinting past the leaves you’ve shrouded yourself with. He barks, baring his teeth as trickles of saliva drip down his jowls.
Get down from there.
“Go away!” You hiss, grabbing onto a tree branch firmly as he nears and clambers up, scratching his claws along the trunk.
It’s been years and you still insist on giving me the biggest headache.
“I said go away Johnny!” 
Get down. Immediately. Don’t make me climb up there.
“I’m not coming down! Now get away before another Alpha follows your trail and figures out that I’m hiding out here.” You grunt, fearfully looking out as another large wolf approaches.
You need to come down. Right now.
“You’re leading him right to me.” You whine, moving up another branch to hide yourself from the Alpha passing between the trees.
Johnny’s teeth snap, biting at the air as an Alpha with dark fur growls at him, leaping up on his hind legs he stands tall above him, shouting at the new presence to get lost.
This one's mine.
The dark furred Alpha hesitates for a bit, egging the lighter to get his nose in his face, snout digging into the others until he whimpers and backs away, slowly making his exit from the woods.
An enormous sense of relief lightens the tension weighing down your shoulders, leaning back on the tree until a sudden huge ruckus shoots you to sit up urgently. 
The Alpha down below backs up and rams into the trunk repeatedly, growling and smashing his dome forward until you’re shouting.
“Johnny! Stop! Stop!” 
GET DOWN. RIGHT NOW!
His Alpha sounds vicious, ripping through your mind, causing your Omega to cower and frightfully shiver. Biting down on your lip to contain a whimper, you nod and gingerly set your foot down to make your way down the tree. 
“Please, don’t tell head Alpha about this.. he’ll have me condemned..” you plead, keeping your gaze to the floor to not have to look your old friend in the eye. Shame, embarrassment and fear runs rampant throughout your system, lighting goosebumps up your flesh. 
No one is touching my mate.
“What?!” You nearly lunge back, falling down onto your ass as you crawl away without taking your eyes off of him. “Johnny! It’s me! You’re mistaken—“
Quiet. Omega. 
Slowly trudging closer to you, he stops to sit. Stance big and strong towering above you.
Present.
“Johnny, I can’t do tha—“ 
The growl he lets out cracks a whimper from your throat, rustling the leaves throughout each surrounding tree, echoing loud enough for even birds to flock away out of fear.
“You don’t want this, not with me, remember me?” It seems futile to attempt conversation with an Alpha in wolf form, feeling defenseless and defeated as your back knocks against a rock and the Alpha leaves you with nowhere to run. 
Present for your Alpha. I won’t ask again.
“I-I can’t, don’t ask that of me.” Bile rises up your chest, digging your fingers through clumps of dirt as the large wolf nuzzles your face and takes a deep inhale. “This is a mistake, has to be a mistake..”
Lights blind your vision, collapsing on the ground when his scent slams into you. A husk leather oud infiltrates your senses, strong and rich, immediately swirling between each crevice until your chest caves. The Alphas scent is the strongest you’ve ever felt, dominant, enrapturing, near drug-inducing. The scent of a powerful Alpha, more powerful than you’ve ever experienced. Too much for your secluded body and mind to handle atop of the raging fear beating from your chest.
The Alpha nudges your limp figure a few times, softly huffing and licking up your cheek. There’s no point in waiting it out, already gone for hours since the hunt began, he shifts back and hoists your lifeless body onto his arms, carrying you out of the woods with ease. The walk back to your lands can take about another hour, knowing his father will undoubtedly be waiting for his return with a proud smile as his son triumphantly strides back through with his future head Omega intact.
Exactly as he imagined it, his father stands tall and full of pride, the smile on his lips slowly sinking as he sees no sign of a mating mark. Confusion flows between the two Alphas as he comes to a stop and adjusts your limp weight in his arms. 
“What is this son? Have you not mated?” He asks sternly, leaning in closer to inspect your naked throat.
“The Omega, she fainted before I could consummate..”
“Ah, I see. Drop her off at the infirmary and continue on your way back out. Many Alphas have already returned with their claimed mates. You need to be swift and hurry now.”
“This is my mate, father.” Johnny states loud and clear, cradling you closer to his chest. “She is the one my wolf has chosen.”
Clarity evades the head alphas features, scowling as he steps forward to whisper. “You dare to bring disgrace upon my name with this unmated weak Omega? What have I taught you?”
“No father, I do not wish to bring shame upon our lineage.”
The head Alpha snaps his fingers, ushering his main henchmen to cover up their surroundings. “Get the Omega back to your cabin. Do not bring her back without your markings.” He orders, rushing two of the elders to cut around the village to his son’s cabin. “I will not have you humiliate my name with your choice.”
Johnny nods without protest, following along with the elders that obscure your bodies behind veiled cloaks. At least in his cabin he can help you get proper rest and keep an eye on you. 
“Get her inside.” One of the elders says in a hushed voice, covering the entrance to his cabin. “Listen to me my boy, if that Omega exits your sights without a mark, I don’t want to jump to conclusions of what your father may pull, but it won’t be pleasant.”
He nods assuredly, thanking the older Alpha for helping him before leading you to his furs to lay upon. At least this way you can become accustomed to his scent, enough to keep you stable even if it overwhelms you. He should have anticipated that you’d be difficult to deal with even now after all of this time apart. You’ve grown a lot, as has he, but clearly your disdain towards Alphas hasn’t changed much.
He wonders for a moment if he should have just walked away when Jaehyun showed up with intent to mate you. The thought alone makes his Alpha scream at the top of its lungs, clenching his fist and shaking his head to calm the rage building inside of him.
Anyone else mating you has never been an option, because Johnny always knew it had to be him. He always knew that it had to be you. 
‘That sweaters a bit tight for you, don’t you think?’ His friend jeered, poking at the faded cotton material stretched over his much larger body.
Johnny ignored him, waving Jaehyun off before heading to the river to wash off, making a stop by the bathrooms nearby first. He’s kept your oversized sweater stuffed at the very bottom of his bag as he marched into the newly presented Alpha sector of your packs lands, heart beating from his chest as he stole one last look back and found your gaze peering over your shoulder practically begging to be saved.
He’d dreamt about it for years, what your scent would smell of, how you’d grow to be the most beautiful Omega, strong and regal by his side. Perfect to lead a pack by him in time. 
In time you will see, even if you don’t have much left to spare.
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・
Air thick as molasses glides down your tongue, struggling to swallow as you sit up and break out into a fit of coughs. Everything’s too warm, incinerating you from inside out with each breath you take in. Grasping around yourself you find a wall behind you, choking on your next breath right as the Alpha enters and rushes over to you.
“Here, drink this.” He sits down fast, raising a cup of cooled tea to your lips, tipping it for you to drink from. The sensation of calming herbs flows through your chest, filling your senses from nose to taste, opening up your air passages to breath with ease. “Drink all of it.”
“What is that??” You cough, wiping at your lips and pushing the mug away.
“You fainted, healer Ryu said it can happen when Omegas aren’t accustomed to the scent of Alpha..” tilting his head to the side, he taps at a scent blocker stuck to his neck. “This should help, you’re in my cabin thought, my scent is pretty much everywhere..”
“What am I doing here?” You try to say clearly, choking on the spit lining your throat that's thickened up. “W-why did you bring me here?”
Johnny’s gaze darkens, dragging down your even toned neck, the expanse of your smooth delicate shoulders and your bare arms. “Because.” He stiffens, glaring at your throat. “I want you to be awake when I mate you.”
“Mate me?!?” Shooting up straight, you clutch the furs on top of your body tightly, half questioning if he undressed you to get you under here in the first place..
Sitting up, he nods and reaches to move your hair back causing you to flinch as his knuckles drag down your cheek. “Do you not remember me?”
He seems hesitant to ask, lips tugged down at the sides, grazing past your scent gland still masked by blockers. 
“Of course I remember you!” Glowering, you grab his wrist and dig your fingernails in. “Now answer me! What am I doing here?!”
The sensation of your stubby nails clawing at his flesh has no effect, shrugging you away as he comes to stand and paces in front of the bed you sit on. “Did you hit your pretty little head falling down from one of those trees while trying to hide?” He asks in a snarky manner, placing hands on his hips to widen his size. “How many times are you expecting me to repeat myself?”
“You know I never fall.”
Johnny rights himself, standing tall above you. “And I know where you’d go to hide from a gang of Alphas seeking their prey.”
“You cheated.” 
“I found you fairly, just in time too. Jaehyun was trailing my ass knowing I’d be looking for you. You’re lucky he knows better than to go up against me.”
Jaehyun. The other Alpha that Johnny had scared away.
“It’s not fair.. you left our territory—“
“And you should be grateful that I did.” He lunges toward you, slamming his fists down on the bed. “If anyone else had found you breaking the rules like that I’d never be able to save your ass.”
“I don’t need to be saved, especially not thanks to an Alpha.” You spit, cowering back against a wall.
“Watch your tongue little one. We aren’t pups anymore.”
Hard knocks shake through the cabin, pursuing your lips together to stop an insult from dicing its way through the Alphas flesh. Moving away, he peers back over his shoulder, motioning your way. “Don’t move, Omega.”
He disappears behind the door shutting, springing to your feet to scamper your way over when you hear deep voices murmur through.
“Have you done it?” You can recognize head Alphas domineering tone, judging from the way Johnny replies alone. He sounds immature, young and still innocent but still respectful.
“Not yet father.” He’s quiet, probably keeping his head down, too much shame to look his dad in the eye.
“I never expected this from you son.” Head Alpha sounds disappointed, drawing out a long sigh. “All of this over some Omega.”
“She’s more than that.”
“I do not care.” Shutting down his son quickly, head Alpha takes heavy steps, most likely pushing his chest out to instill intimidation. 
“If you do not mate her by the end of today, I have no choice son. I will not allow your obsession with this inadequate Omega to tarnish the reputation I have helped you build. No one wants to follow orders from an Alpha that cannot even control his Omega. You will do what I see fit or I shall summon the council to order a public mating.” Head Alpha spits each word out like shards of glass, gashing through even your flesh from where you listen through the door. The thought of Johnny on the other side trying to keep up a strong facade pings through your chest, willing it away with your arms tightening around yourself.
He must be stoic, emotionless to his father’s rage, because he doesn’t reply, nothing but the sound of footsteps follow for the next few minutes. 
Stepping back inside abruptly, he catches you off guard, leaping away from the door and rushing to hide your tear-filled eyes. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t stay in place.”
“You know me.” You mutter sarcastically, lips tugging down at the sides. “Public mating?”
Johnny sighs, starting to pace and run his hands through his long locks. “I assume you heard everything.”
“What was head Alpha talking about? Is he going to have me exiled?”
He scoffs, glaring at you from the corner of his eye. “As if I’d ever allow that.”
“You’d have to, you can’t go against your father.”
“I can’t?” Lifting a defined eyebrow at you, he steps forward to get in your face, neck craning lower. “What do you not understand? You are my mate. I would go against anyone for you, even my own damn blood.”
“I don’t understand, okay?!” You shout, frustrated, taking a step back nervously. 
“I’ve always known.” Johnny cuts you off, following you with long strides until your back meets a wall. “You have too.”
“No.. Johnny..” 
“Alpha.”
“No!” Lifting your hands, you press flat against his chest to put distance between your bodies. Useless as he doesn’t so much as budge, reaching for your waist as he bends in closer until his lips hover an inch away from yours.
“This stubborn act was endearing when we were kids, you know.” He laments, laughing under his breath. “It was cute and I may do whatever it takes to make you mine, but you will respect me as your mate.”
His tone lowers, near a rumble that has your Omega howling in pain, every signal warning for you to behave. “You’re not my mate.”
He snaps fast, growling deep in his chest, palms slamming down on the wall behind your head. “Do not disobey me.”
The Alphas voice cuts deep, rolling tremors down your limbs until your knees give and buckle, dropping your face between his chest as a pathetic whimper springs from your lips. You crumble at the fury, the Omega inside of you curling up into a ball in shame. How could you anger our mate enough to make him use his Alpha voice? It’s your fault, unleashing an onslaught of pain throughout your body the more you cower against him.
An exhausted sigh blows across the side of your face, standing up straight with arms wrapped around your waist he holds you close, nose dropping to your hair to take in a long inhale. “I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what overcame me just now..”
“I hate you.” You cry between chattering teeth, weakly hitting his chest. “How could you do that to me?”
“No you don’t.” Johnny’s eyes fall shut, dragging his nose against your crown. “I need you to listen to me. I’m sorry. I’m frustrated and stressed over what my father said..”
Sniffling, you ease against him, looping an arm around his waist to regain your balance, and maybe comfort the emotionally wounded Omega whimpering inside of you to fix this. “Public mating?”
“Yes..” he hesitates for a minute, rubbing a soothing large hand up and down your back before pulling away to cup your face.”If the council agrees, I will be summoned to claim you before the pack Alphas..”
“What??”
Pursing his lips, he looks away, forehead wrinkling. “As their next head Alpha, I cannot risk dishonoring tradition..”
“What’s traditional about this?!” You speak up, pushing away again only to be kept in place by strong built arms. 
“It’s not up to me anymore.”
“Then let me leave!” Hissing, you strike a balled up fist against his chest, lip trembling to contain your tears. “Johnny, please!”
“I can’t.” He says firmly, taking a hold of your shoulders to keep you still against the wall. “Tomorrow I will mate you, and if you try to run, I will never stop chasing after you.”
Silence falls between the two of you as he keeps you stuck in place with a look full of hunger. Eyes dancing between desire and passion. It’s enough to bite your tongue and hold back the whiplash of words your mind fights against your heart to shout at him. 
“There’s no other way?” You ask brokenly, throat exhausted as if your Omega used your vocal chords to scream her murderous tears. 
Shaking his head slowly, he leans in and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. “There is no other way.”
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・
There is no other way.
Because this is the only way to prove to the pack that you belong to Johnny. That the Alpha has truly thoroughly fucked and claimed you, that no one will ever question his position to lead this pack.
The council wastes no time on discourse, immediately proclaiming that a mating ritual shall take place today, and that the Omega set to be the next head by pack Alphas side will have a mark on her neck by the end of this day.
“Here I thought the hunt would be the highest honor, you’re lucky the council has been lenient enough to allow this.” Your mother’s fixing up your face once again, unable to remove the giant dumb smile from her face as she moves to brush your hair. “Ah, the moon goddess truly heard my wishes. Head Alphas son of all Alphas! What a blessing.”
Every single member of the pack seemed to question how and why you were chosen. Walking through the village to your parents cabin drew more attention to you than you’d ever experienced. Whispers floated through the air, backing the rumors that you couldn’t even handle the next head Alpha, that you’d passed out before he’d even had the chance to mate you.
‘Doesn’t make any sense why he’d even bother with her after that.’
‘Heard one of the Alphas over breakfast mention that they were close as pups. Head Alphas son probably imprinted on her years ago, none of us ever stood a chance against that type of bond.’
‘Seems unfair if you ask me, she’s not even grateful.’
They spoke so foul of you without knowing anything about you. To even dare question the innocent relationship you once had with Johnny. The friendship that you cherished and would sell your soul to have back. Everything’s different now, he’s different.
“I’m already dreaming of the pups you’ll have.” Your mother sighs happily, fluffing your hair to frame your face. “Johnny’s so handsome and strong, with his genes you will birth only strong pups.”
Pups.
Birth.
With Johnny.
Fear heightens in your stomach similar to a ticking time bomb, sensing your imminent doom as the elders come to escort you to the Alphas sector where the ritual will take place. They wear pleased smiles, cheerful as they drag you along and bring you to what can only come straight out of nightmares.
Alphas stagger around, eyeing you curiously as you’re brought to stand in the middle where a large lifted platform covered with cushions and furs has been set up. It’s worse than the hunt, multiple predatory eyes burn into your skin, gathering closer to get a good look at the flimsy garment doing a poor job of hiding your ample curves. Growls and grunts fly around you, trapping you with nowhere to go as they circle around and barricade you, shortening your breath the more imprisoned you begin to feel.
“J-Johnny?” You ask hesitantly, gaze stuck to your feet, too anxious at the thought of meeting eyes with any of the unknown Alphas around.
“I’m here.” A soft tone ripples up your spine, standing straight and pulling your shoulders back as he takes a hold of your elbow and turns you to face him. “Look at me.”
Slowly lifting your head up you see him, warm eyes and a soft smile intended to comfort you. He stands before you, moving in closer to wrap around your waist. “You’re nervous.”
Sniffling, you nod, embarrassed that every Alpha in the pack you’re meant to lead side by side with the one currently holding you tight will see you defiled for the very first time in mere minutes. “It’s just you and me right now, got that? Don’t even think about anything else. No one else exists, only us.” 
As much as you wish to believe that to be true, your ears can’t tune out the whistles and jeers coming from every side, biting on your lip and shaking your head, you reach for the Alphas shoulders to hide your face in his chest. “Can’t.. they’re everywhere.”
“I said look at me Omega.” He speaks more sternly, not moving to force you, but waiting for your head to raise and return to his still lovingly warm gaze. “You will not take your eyes off of me, do you hear me? You’re mine, you are only to look at me.”
Without using his Alpha voice he still manages to make your chest tighten, stomach churning anxiously as you nod slowly and he bends closer until your foreheads are pressed together. “I’ve been waiting for this.”
A part of you wants to scream, consider running only to be tackled down by a militia of powerful Alphas, but the other part of you swoons, reminded of the days you craved nothing more than to be by Johnny’s side and ripped your own heart to pieces once you realized the inevitable fate you’d been dealt.
“…for how long, Alpha?” You ask, barely above a whisper, fluttering his eyes in surprise.
“Forever.” He whispers, nose brushing against yours. “I’d wait an eternity for you.”
“You’ll take care of me Alpha?” You question cautiously, lips barely grazing his plump pout. “Make me yours to protect?”
“Always have.” Johnny states, licking your upper lip with closed eyes. He blinks slowly, reaching to cup your cheeks and dip his mouth to yours. “And I always will.”
It may not be ideal nor how you ever allowed yourself to imagine, but as the Alphas lips meld to yours, the tension weighing on your back dissipates. Easing into his dominant touch, you fall into the kiss easily. Every worry and silent wishful hope lets out a sigh of relief throughout your body, dragging your arms up higher to cling around his neck and deepen the kiss.
This time your lips planted together unlocks what you never knew you needed. The Omega inside of you quells instantaneously, rolling around with what can only he a giant smile now that your Alpha finally seems satisfied. The two of you rejoice, drawing him in deeper to grant your tongue access inside the delicious cavern of his mouth. If only a kiss can ignite this much in you, you can only shake as you imagine what more your conjoined bodies can release.
“I’ve got you baby.” Johnny says softly against your lips, for your ears only. “No one else exists.” He repeats, calming the tremble rolling up and down your spine with tender pets. “Your first time?”
You nod, skin flushed with goosebumps as your nerves skyrocket and missile launch to the sky erupting each and every worry you’ve ever had. The Alphas never had to be concerned with any inexperience. Always taken care of with various concubines in preparation for the day they’d have to race for a mate. Johnny knew exactly what to do with you, how to use your body and pleasure himself, only heightening your anxiety.
“You trust me don’t you?” He continues to whisper, brushing against your now swollen lips. “Trust that your Alpha will make you feel good, you’ll always reach your pleasure first with me.”
“Can I trust you Alpha?” You ask for further affirmation, sliding your hands beneath the leather furs draped over his shoulders. 
“Have I ever lied to you?” 
Without answering, you push the furs off, eyes going wide at the sight of ink carved onto his skin. Immediately you reach to run the tips of your fingers across the raised flesh, poked through with sterilized needles and squid ink, half scarred from the forced injury to create the permanent markings. “Is that?”
“You.”
It’s as if you’ve woken up in Johnny’s cabin once more, short of breath as you trace over the lithe wolf prowling along a tree branch between leaves. Large golden flecks stare back at you, running your touch over the leaves as the Omega tattooed on his skin almost watches your movements. “Me?”
“My Omega.”
Grasping your wrist he drags your hand higher to the path of flowers blooming open on his shoulder. “My Omega made of honeysuckle and snow coated grass. As sweet as Autumn and fierce as Winter.”
“Johnny..”
Nights of clenching your eyes shut, pretending to ignore the Alphas eyes appearing in your dreams, shove aside the warmth you sought out from the memory of his touch. Every night and day kept apart had taken more of a toll on both of you than either could have realized, desperate to be close as you sink into his chest and wrap around him with a tight hug. “Alpha.”
“I know.” The gentle tone he keeps with you could erase any fear, comforted by the scent that had been suffocating you. Taking deep long inhales you finally let him in, head hazy as the Alphas scent combines with yours. “Never take your eyes off of me Omega.”
He means it, tempted to use his Alpha voice to manipulate you to follow his orders. It’s hard enough to tune out the whispers and groans that surround you from the crowd gathered around as he begins to strip your flimsy tunic away and slowly takes in every inch of your exposed skin, quietly cursing under his breath. “Beautiful, you’re so beautiful.”
Every touch is soft, voice hushed for only your ears to pick up on, gaze lit up full of love that you can feel each time your eyes meet. Nerves prickle under the drag of his finger, softly gliding down your stomach to the tops of your thighs to part you open, swallowing down a loud deep breath. Embarrassment twitches your knees, wanting to slam them shut as the Alphas lowers to get a close up look and curls his biceps around your thighs. “The most perfect Omega, aren’t you pretty?”
Slick gushes between your folds, shaking from the tips of your fingers to your toes as your peer down between your thighs. Johnny’s eyes shoot up, lowering his thick lips to your center. The invitation of your warm glistening cunt is enough to have him groaning, unintentionally teasing the hood of flesh hiding your clit. Pouty pressed together lips flatten and kiss the bundle of nerves, lighting triggers up your calves and thighs for more slick to drip out onto the Alphas chin grazing across your awaiting entrance.
Given any other circumstance, including the one you could have ended up in, he would have had you present on all fours and fucked you like a proper Omega slut. Alpha urges roar for him to hurry it up, enough to worship your cunt. Ignoring his wolf's demands, he moves lower to kiss at your entrance, slurping up the sweet sticky syrupy slick for the direct source. Burying his nose in to snort your aroused scent this up close. He mouths sloppily at your hole, not even to get you off yet, but to finally have a taste of his dreams. A taste of what he could only imagine for years.
Nothing would ever be able to compare or come close to the heavenly taste of you. 
“My Omega, so sweet. Taste so fucking sweet, pretty pretty girl.” His chins doused with your gleaming arousal when he decides to finally come up from air at the sound of your moans turning into impatient whines. Jerking against his mouth desperately, needing something inside. He can feel it, the frustration coming from both of your wolves, attacking you from inside out to mate mate mate.
The Alphas breath fans across your now sweaty neck, body heat rising at accelerated speed the more he teasingly tortured you. Licking up your scent gland, he drags a way to your ear, biting on the lobe softly. “My innocent Omega wants Alphas cock so badly? Rutting against me like some horny pup.”
And it’s true, without thought your thighs wrap around one of his long muscular legs, jamming your bare core up and down the flexed limb. Hair grazes your slick cunt, making a mess of wet down the Alphas thighs as your hips speed up chasing after a relief only he can fulfill.
“Alpha, I need to.. be closer.” Every and each bone in your body rattles, craving and needing to feel him inside of you. Johnny tenses, eyebrows wrinkling together as he grabs onto your hips and forces you to stop.
“You’re gonna give me a hard time with that pretty ass and pussy, aren’t you?” He says through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering shut. “I’ll fuck you, fuck you full of my pups. Keep you satisfied until all you know is how to take your Alphas cock. Is that what you want?”
Thick palms slide beneath your back, gliding lower to cup and squeeze your ass, encouraging your hips to push down on his thigh again and plead for more. Vigorous grinds of your hips force him to lodge his knees down, shifting the furs laid out beneath you. He grunts, rasping out breaths shakily. “Fuck baby, get it nice and wet for me. Keep doing it just like that.”
As if to warn you, he grips your ass roughly, jamming his hardened clothed length against your hip for you to really feel what you’re about to take. A heavy hot thick rod ruts from your lower belly to your hip, a thin garment separating your lower halves, bowing your spine up pathetically. “Alpha—that, please, please, g-give me!”
A round of groans sound around you, quickly reminding you of where you are, but not long enough before Johnny sits up between your thighs, bringing your hands to his hips. 
“This what you want?” He asks damn near mockingly. Licking at his lips akin to a thirsty rabid wolf. 
“Alpha—want, want it!” 
Hisses, growls, harsh ragged breaths turn louder the more you whine, resisting your Omegas curious urge to glance around. Johnny cups your chin to keep you focused, sleek eyes melting your gaze. “What do you want? Say it clear for your Alpha.”
The size of him above you makes you feel so small, curling into yourself as he positions close between your thighs to jam his clothed size against your drenched cunt. Johnny trembles at the contact, having to sneak a look down as you soak through his light fabric cover up and the shape of his cockhead fully pokes through, pressing the tip to your swollen clit. “Want this?” He mutters, curling the fabric around his cock to slap down heavily between your thighs.
Jerking up in response you let out a howling scream, arms shooting out to grab his biceps. “Please please!”
“Say it!” He growls ferociously, slapping the heavy meat down with audible loud wet claps of skin hitting skin. The contact rushes blood down, chubbing your pussy up in preparation to squeeze the life out of your Alphas dick. 
“Want your cock Alpha! Wan-want you to breed me, pup me!” 
If only you had anything else on your mind other than the Alpha burying inside of you, you’d hear the uproar of feral cries set off around you. Each Alpha willing to sell their soul to be in Johnny’s position right now. They watch on drooling, snarling, rubbing themselves over their garments as your Alpha sits up proudly and strips his lower half free of the fabric. His thick cock bounces up, slapping loudly against the flat planes of his ripped stomach. The visual of Johnny’s chest rising and falling rapidly has slick pouring out of you obscenely, toes curling as you take in the full mass of him. Clenching up as small as you can as you envision what can only be compared to your forearm in size penetrating you.
“Alpha, s’too big..” you say wantonly, still wanting to feel him split you open. Still needy for your Alphas cock to break through your cervix and fatten your belly full of cum.
“I know, baby.” Laying down on you without resting his weight, his cock pressed against your stomach. The tip slotted a few inches above your navel as a preview of how deep he’ll be inside of you soon. Maneuvering his fingers between your thighs, he nips at your jaw, murmuring praises about how wet you are.
“It’s so loud, so warm.” Johnny sighs, sucking on your earlobe. “So slippery between my fingers.”
Tapping at your entrance, he nudges your thighs open further, gliding two fingers in past the ring of muscle that feels as if you’re trying to bite them right off of his hand. Cursing again, he sucks in a ragged breath, licking swirls along your ear. Thumb making way to your clit to loosen up the clamp your cunt has around his fingers. A few meticulous rubs and flicks combined with his hot mouth have you relaxing, shoulders laying flat as he begins to scissors inside of you.
“Feel that Omega? Your pretty tiny fucking pussy.” He grits, fingers beginning to jam in and out of you at heightened speed. “Feel so tight and warm around me, gripping me so good baby.”
Johnny’s nasty words make your mind spin, head thrown back watching the sky above you turn upside down. The sound of your gushing slick louder than anything, muting all but the guttural groans coming from your Alpha. Pleasure scorches throughout your body, reaching for his wrist with a trembling saliva covered bottom lip and watery eyes. “Please, enough. Alpha, I need it, need you.”
He hears you loud and clear, tongue toying with his lip for a moment before drawing free from your cunt. As much as he wants to make this easy for you, there’s no way. Both of you too insatiable and driven by your hunger to be one. To feel conjoined, even if you know it will hurt.
Slowly stroking his cock, he watches your pussy in a trance-like state. Stomach muscle twitching, taking sharp breaths as he rubs a smear of pre-cum around the tip. Dipping his fingers between your sensitive pussy lips again because he can’t help himself, too enthralled by the gush of slick that bubbles out messy and loud. It’s all for him, slowly collecting the wad of slick to coat his cock with like some type of silent apology for what he’s about to do to you.
The twitch your tiny little hole gives in response only makes him groan, setting the head right against your slit to admire the difference in size for a minute.
“Perfect.” Johnny whispers, rubbing his thumb down your clit to the outer rim of your cunt pulsing against his length. He can’t stop his hips from jerking, slowly thrusting to watch your muscle stretch, fighting back the much too large intrusion trying to invade and make a home for himself. The fat tip of his size throbs, pushing it in until he feels your hole snap around him, hissing and biting his lip. “Babies first time, just for me..”
It’s dizzying for him, almost too dizzying to hear your rushed intakes of air, to see your eyes clenched shut, fists balled up on your chest, and your teeth grinding to not scream. Johnny reaches for your forearms, pushing them down for leverage. Slowly he plunges in more, managing to get a few more inches in before pausing to take deep breaths. “You okay baby?”
Nodding furiously, you curse at him to continue. Distracting yourself from the pain by focusing on your breathing. You have to be good, prove yourself worthy, not only for your Alpha, but for the pack of onlookers. Determined to take him, you let out a moan and force your hips up into a swivel, further sliding his length inside.
A slew of curses spring from his lips in shock, reveling in the pressure and tightness enveloping half of his length. “Want it so badly, don’t you.” He says more to himself, moving to grab your hips and hold them down. “But you’ll do as I say.”
He pulls out, a lewd loud pop resounding as Johnny lifts his hips back enough to rub his length up and down. The fat tip of his size purposely nudging and bumping your swollen clit. Each drag against your sensitive pussy further ruining you, sobbing out loud without a care. The hold on your hips keeps you from moving, letting out a desperate shout as Johnny lays his palm flat on your stomach, taking his cock in hand to slap down on against your clit.
“Alpha! N-no!”
“Take it.” He groans, struck by the thick we s of slick that cling to his length with each heavy smack. Emitting pornographic squelching sounds for everyone of the Alphas he will lead someday to hear, to memorize, to know that they will never have a taste of you, let alone ever experience this again.
With a pleased smirk, the engorged tip of his length meets your entrance again. Pussy throbbing like a wounded animal as the Alpha finally presses in again, slowly breaching your hole to make you feel every overwhelming sensation all over again. The pain subsides as pleasure and desperation takes over, incessantly starving to feel him stuff you full. You sob, reaching out for something as he leans in to bracket your head with thick biceps. Finding solace in his shoulders, you claw at his smooth skin, arching up to bite down a scream into his muscle.
It’s heat inducing, arching against the Alpha to get him deeper inside of you. Long thick cock stretching you with each new inch added, too good once fully sheathed inside. You can’t stop whining, licking at Johnny’s smooth pronounced collarbone. Split open by the only one you’ve ever wanted, something about it swells your chest. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders to feel even closer. 
“Alpha, please—“ you start to wail, drooling on his neck, planting haphazard messy kisses.
“What are you begging for, huh?” He chokes out, moving to wrap around your shoulders in the same manner, knowing that your Omega needs to be close. That your heart needs to feel his beating against it. “You’re so tight for me baby. Gonna ruin that perfect pussy you have, make it mine.”
“Ugh!” Dropping your neck back, hot tears fill your eyes, raining down your cheeks as he begins to thrust in and out. 
“All mine, my pretty gorgeous Omega.” He moans, fully pulling out only to ram back in and sending your back arching up with a shout. Johnny can’t slow down, chasing after your release to get to his. Falling into a rough rhythm, he thrusts hard enough to have you both sliding up with each ramming force of his hips. The clenches you give around his cock accompanied by drool coated moans only encouraging him to push in harder, make you taste his cock in the back of your throat from here.
“Alpha..”
“Yeah, what did I say baby? Keep those pretty eyes on me baby. Keep looking at me.” Clutching your neck, he presses your foreheads together. Cock drilling deep past your tight hole. It’s not completely without pain, snapping around the intrusion of his thick long girth. Johnny works hard to keep his own eyes open, consumed by the way your pouty lips fall apart with a moan, how your eyes roll up and back to him over and over again. “Opening up so so good for Alpha. Feel good baby?”
Gliding a hand between your bodies, he lowers closer to your chest, pushing his arm lower to rest the back of your head along the dip of his elbow. Fingers find their way to your clit, circling the bundle of nerves with another thrust, easing more inches past your convulsing heat.
“Ahh—!” Incoherently you begin to nod, head spinning, thighs aching around his hips. The pinch to your clit shoots up your spine, lifting your butt up only to be slammed back down into place with another powerful thrust. Johnny curses, sucking at spit around his tongue as he lifts enough to watch you take the last inch of his cock again.
“Oh shit baby.” He croons, biting down on his lip at the sight of his cock completely disappearing inside of you like nothing. The way you take it only as an Omega can. It’s indescribable to feel your heat suck around him, the way your walls clamp on his size like wet firm kisses. Pangs of pleasure throb up his length, cockhead pressed to your cervix at this angle. “Can’t believe—“ the Alpha drags his slick coated fingers to your lips, pushing them down on your tongue, teeth gritting. “Can’t believe I’m inside of you.”
That awakens your lost mind, licking between his digits as he circles down into you and lets you truly feel how big he is. Each twist of his hips feels like a delicious new stretch, opening your cunt up to always be ready for your Alpha to fill you up. He sighs, smiling and pressing in to capture your lips. Cock thrumming inside of you letting you get used to the sheer size of him. Distracting you with wet and messy glides of his tongue, he continues to slur between sucks, drawing your tongue out with his suctioning lips. 
“Such a pretty fucking pussy baby, best cunt ever.” Johnny sounds lost himself, lapping at the combination of your spit smearing between your chins. “Tight, so tight for your Alpha.”
All you can do is whine and agree between his overpowering kisses, failing to grab his tongue with yours. Johnny controls everything, the way you kiss, the way you fuck, the way your body reacts to him. Infiltrating your brain, lungs, heart, cunt, filling every empty hole inside of you with himself, staking claim to his Omega the way only a real Alpha can.
“Pl-please, Alpha, please,” you start to beg, throwing your limbless arms around his shoulders to weakly throw your hips into a circle. Turning desperate to really feel him, to really get fucked by your Alpha.
He fully lets go, tearing past his own resistance to fuck you full, hard and fast. Wet sounds clap around you, jostled by each punching thrust, swearing you can feel him as deep as your lungs from the way you gag on spit and choke on your breath. Weakly tapping at his shoulders you lose it, clamping on the Alphas size hard enough to make him stop for a moment. Johnny growl’s animalistically, pounding through the splash of slick threatening to push his size out from the force of your powerful orgasm. He keeps fucking you through it, looming large over your body going lifeless beneath him.  
“Knot, g-gonna knot baby.” The veins lining his long throat pop out under sweat glistening flesh, dropping his nose to yours as his stomach convulses and he thrusts in all the way deep surely leaving your cervix bruised. “Fucking—-fu—ahh shit!”
It’s the most shattered he’s sounded, raspy and whiny, coming to a stop as the base of his length begins to expand. Swiping his lips against yours between panted breaths.
“S’too.. can’t.” You beg, lightly tapping his chest. It’s useless, both of you too strung out by the peak of your pleasure. The only option left is to wait it out and grit your teeth through the burn stretching against your hole.
Right as you feel every last inch of your body go limp, Johnny securely cups behind your neck, licking across the top row of his teeth practically salivating at the sight of your extended throat arched up so invitingly. The knot thrums against your walls, painful stretch burning as he adjusts to lower his chest to yours and whisper against your lips. “My Omega.”
The bite hurts initially, gnawing deep through the flesh covering your scent gland. Long canines dig through your veins, sucking at the blood that gushes past his bite. Memories of the first time you met the Alpha flash behind your eyes, weakly sinking your nails into his shoulders as tears rush from your eyes and everything he’s ever wanted to say to you flies around your mind. The days you spent together, the times he always let you win just to see you smile, and the frantic need to protect you. Pain washes away along with the tears rolling down your face, whimpering and clutching onto him as hard as you’re able to.
“Johnny..”
The pitiful sounds that come from his throat remind you of a distressed pup, lapping up your bite aggressively as guilt claws at his chest seeing you grow weaker beneath him.
“S’okay Alpha..” you mumble, sliding your hands up his neck to hold his cheeks. The difference in size seems more daunting now, stuck on his knot that hasn’t deflated one bit, the visual of your small hands thumbing his wet cheeks feels right. Feels as if you’ll never have to fend for yourself as each emotion and reassuring sense of devotion fills your head. 
Johnny’s your Alpha, destined to lead, destined to be yours.
“Hurt you..” he barely whispers, thumb caressing the mark on your neck solemnly. Fighting between his pride and lust to prioritize what you could be going through. “Sorry..”
“No no,” tucking your chin, you capture his thumb to suckle on, head shaking softly. “Love you.”
The look that illuminates his features can only be described as one of love. Adoration and admiration, relief, lightly tipping the corners of his lips upward and releasing the tension pinching at his ears. “Love you, my mate.” He says proudly, knot gone down enough to fix your positions and lift you onto his lap. “Let's go home.”
Without allowing you time to look around, he holds onto your bottom, keeping you impaled in place with his knot as his thighs burn to stand, free hand petting the back of your head and easing your nose to rest against his scent gland, successfully masking your eyes from the Alphas that stand around drooling, hard cocks pulsing, desperate to have a piece of you for themselves. With a last look of warning at the group, he turns and takes the back trail back to his cabin, shushing your whines.
“Almost there baby.”
“We’re going home?” You ask drowsily, clinging onto his shoulders as if you fear the idea of falling, knowing the Alpha would never allow for such a thing.
“Our home.” He states, rounding a corner to the back entrance of his cabin to avoid allowing anyone else that may be roaming around to see you in this position. “You did such a good job for me back there pretty.”
“I did?” Warmth fills your stomach, brows knitting as your hips roll against him on their own to feel the Alphas half deflated knot push past your aching entrance. He hisses, cupping your ass firmly on the way to the bed you rested in yesterday, already soaked with your scent, weakening his knees as he lays you down and hovers above you, fist planted by your sides. 
“So good for me, my perfect Omega.”
Reaching up for his shoulder, you trace the wolf gazing down at you once again, head tilted curiously. “Has it always been me? Really?”
Johnny’s eyebrows gather together furiously, nodding rapidly, clicking his tongue annoyed. “You know that it has.”
“It’s nice to hear.” You smile, biting on your lip. 
“Yeah?” Lowering down, he thrusts the rest of his size in to fill you with every inch, knot gone down enough to shove his length in deep once again. “And me? I want to hear you say it.”
Damp strands of hair hang around your face, framing the Alphas sharp cheekbones, long eyes that stare down at you obsessively. 
“It’s always been you.” You admit, arching up for a kiss. 
Already knowing that is one thing, but hearing you say it strikes a nerve, growling from deep in his chest as he reaches to draw your hands above your head and teases your lips with barely there kisses.
“You’re mine.” Small pecks litter your top and bottom lip, lowering to your chin and jaw, trailing a pathway up to your ear and back as he continues to repeat mineminemine.
“Mine to have.” Another kiss.
“Mine to keep.” Another kiss.
“Mine to save.” Another kiss.
“And mine to ruin.” The last kiss steals your breath, bred full again by the next thrust, only held in place by his solid grip on your forearms.
The Alpha made good on his promise to take care of you, fucked and bred night after night to birth the strongest members of your pack. 
Occasionally you’d find your way back to the forest, now with Johnny by your side helping you climb trees that you insisted on being able to do on your own.
“It’s nice up here.” He hums, laying back on the large part of the base with you on his chest, stroking up and down your spine soothingly.
“It’s nicer with you.”
“Yeah?” His eyebrow lifts, tapping your chin to look at him. “No more running away from me then?”
“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” You tease, pretending to bite his finger.
“That’s my girl.”
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・
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earlgreyflowers · 4 months
Note
Public sex with oscar, other people getting off on it without them knowing or like them getting caught or maybe even oscar cuming in yn secretly in front of everyone, just anything voyeur with oscar please 😭
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People would never ever guess the things that you and Oscar got up to behind closed doors, and even sometimes open ones. Oscar always got off on the idea of people seeing what he does to you, showing them how well he knows your body. They never question it when his driver’s room door is conveniently left unlocked whilst you celebrate his race, or when he licks his fingers after his hand comes up from below the table at dinner.
Sure they notice how affectionate he is, kissing your cheek and wrapping his arms around you from behind. But they’ve never heard the filthy words he whispers to you about how easy it would be to lift up your little skirt and stuff you full. Or so you thought.
Lando is the first to notice, given the amount of time he spends around you both. He notices the way Oscar often has a hand on you, leaning in too often to whisper something discreetly in your ear. It was at dinner that the truth first came together. Oscar’s hand had been under the table for a while, him eating his dessert with just one hand. You however, hadn’t eaten an ounce of yours. When Lando looked over to you he noticed how flushed you were, how your eyelids fluttered and how your lips seemed more tempting you than the dessert.
His eyes trailed over you, following them down to where Oscar’s hand seemingly rested on your legs. From his vantage point he could see the way Oscar’s arm was flexing rhythmically, his hand moving ever so slightly. His eyes widened as he realised what his shy teammate was doing. He won’t lie and say the thought didn’t have him straining against his jeans slightly, especially when he spotted how calmly Oscar was watching him. Oscar winked at his teammate, a finger coming to his lips in a shh-ing motion. Lando swallowed dryly, nodding as he continued to glance all night, especially when Oscar licked his fingers clean.
Oscar had continued his public acts, often finding himself two fingers deep inside you as you struggled to stay quiet. But he loved the busy clubs, when the drivers booked a VIP booth and no one paid any attention to anything other than alcohol. After the end of his first season in Formula One he was itching to celebrate, aching to get you alone. Once Oscar realised this was unlikely to happen, he’s formed a plan. A plan that culminated in this moment, you on his lap in a club, whilst some other occupants of the grid watched on.
Lando again had been the first to notice, your cheeks flushing at Oscar’s words. “Imagine being stuffed full in this club, nobody would know how deep I am inside you baby.” He cooed in your ear, large hands sliding up and down your exposed legs. It took George and Fernando arriving with more shots for you to agree, firm in your decision that everyone else was preoccupied.
You wriggled in Oscar’s lap, finding a comfortable position that didn’t look too suspicious. You hovered over him as he slipped his member out of his jeans. He bit back a groan as you slid yourself down, your warm walls encasing him. “So fucking tight aren’t you?” He whispered in your ear, “Such a slut for me.” You whimper lightly, burying your head in his neck as you start a subtle grinding motion against him.
“That’s it, use me where anyone could see you. Do you like that idea?” Oscar coos, “That anyone here could look over and see how needy and desperate you are.” His hands squeeze your hips as he rolls you against him, groaning in your ear at the feeling if you wrapped around him. Oscar’s grateful for the booming music, grateful that no-one can hear you moaning for him. You hear Oscar chuckle lightly from your position, looking up at him in confusion. “Don’t stop sweetheart, but we have a small audience.” Oscar tells you, your heart stopping at his words.
He smirks at the way your walls clench around him before beckoning the audience member over. You hear someone sit next to the pair of you behind the table, Oscar greeting him with a nod. “Took you a while to notice this time mate.” Oscar says, your ears barely picking up the scoff of your new admirer.
“Keeping her hidden that’s why Oscar, you know I like to see her face. See what you do to her.” Lando’s voice causes a flush to overtake you, your hips grinding harder against Oscar. He groans once more, head tilting back at the feeling of you on top of him. “Oh she’s getting you good this time isn’t she?” Lando laughs, licking his lips as he watches you move.
“You have no idea,” Oscar smirks, “She’s an angel.” He tells his teammate. You whine into his neck as Oscar’s hand wraps in your hair. He tugs lightly, your face emerging from its hiding spot. “I want you to look at Lando baby, he likes your pretty little face.” Oscar mutters, stroking your cheek gently as he grinds his cock into you. Once you make eye contact with Lando your pace increases, joined now by Oscar’s thumb on your clit. Your moan of his name catches the attention of another driver, the warmth of his body emanating from behind you.
“Roped Lando into your little kink too have you?”
The American accent of Logan fills your ears, a soft smile spreading over your lips at the familiar audience member. “It’s hot isn’t it Lando? The way she’d do anything for him. You should see them behind closed doors, absolutely filthy.” Logan muses, hand resting on your hip as he helps you move over his best friend.
“You really should come watch Lando, she loves the extra pair of eyes.” Oscar tells his teammate, “You think she’s dirty now? Wait ‘til you see her on all fours with my dick in her mouth. It’s art.” You can’t help but moan at his words, squirming at the way the three men discuss you. It’s when Lando smiles at the thought of watching you both in private, nodding at Oscar’s proposal, that you tumble over the edge.
Your legs quake and your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. Your walls clench around Oscar as he bites his lip, stifling the loud moan threatening to spill out. You attempt to hide your face once more but Lando holds your head still, studying your face as you cum for his teammate. Oscar grinds into you deeper, the rhythmic clenching driving him to his own orgasm. He shoots his load inside you, whimpering in sensitivity as Logan continues to move your hips.
The pair of you come down with heavy breaths and flushed cheeks, before eventually leaving the club. Trailed by Logan and Lando for a night you’ll never forget.
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helaelaemond · 7 months
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Honey on my Tongue - Aemond x reader
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Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x betrothed reader
Summary: You’ve been betrothed to Aemond, and he has shown little interest in you during your engagement. It hurts so much, for your heart yearns for him. You can't hold it back any longer
Slightly possessive Aemond. Suggestive situations.
Rating: T
Word count: 1.9k
"Would my lady care to dance?"
You look at the hand held out to you, and glance up at Prince Aegon. He grins down at you, and you take his offer graciously. "Thank you, my prince."
Next to him, the princess watches you curiously, and opposite her, your betrothed, Prince Aemond, keeps his one eye fixed on his brother.
"I think we have an audience," you say quietly, smiling.
"Just as I like," Aegon jokes. His hands are sure against you as you begin the simple dance, stepping in time to the music. At every opportunity, he presses himself closer than is proper. It should bother you - but at least you're getting attention from one prince.
"I do wonder about you sometimes," you tell him when steps bring you closer.
Walking in the correct steps around you, Aegon flashes you another grin. "I am on your mind often, then?"
You can't help but roll your eyes. "When you say things like that, a certain curiosity is sparked."
"And is that a curiosity you wish to be satisfied?"
The wine they serve in the Red Keep is stronger than you're used to, and with it brings a boldness that is also foreign. "Is curiosity the only thing you can satisfy?"
He laughs loudly. "Gods, I am sure you think about that often! Should your curiosity ever grow too great to bear, you come and find me."
"And what of your wife?"
Taking your hand, he glances over your shoulder at sweet Helaena, and shrugs. "What of her?"
"How often do you dishonour her?"
"Where there is no love, there is no dishonour. Perhaps you would do well to remember that."
You raise your eyebrow at his implication. There is mirth in his pretty eyes. "Do you think I am destined for an arrangement where love will not flourish?"
Again, Aegon holds you closer than is proper, and his lips are closer to your ear. "My brother is a warrior and a scholar, not a lover. How warm can steel be in a marriage bed?"
There is a tightness in your chest at his words. Perhaps he means only to be charming, to be suggestive, or perhaps he is deliberately cruel. But it is not the elder brother who gives you butterflies. You glance over at your betrothed, and the ice of his glare makes you shiver.
"My lady?" Aegon asks. You've stopped dancing.
"Ah. My apologies, my prince. I think the wine is stronger than I am used to."
"All the better," he answers quietly, and he winks at you. "Should you desire oblivion this night, come to my chambers."
Your face is close to his, and you smile up at him. "I think not, my prince. Perhaps your hand is more curious than I."
Why did you say that? What in the world made you say that? His jaw hangs open in shock at your boldness, and a blush spreads across your cheeks and down your neck. You return to the table where Aemond and Helaena are sat, and where their mother and grandfather talk together quietly.
"Please excuse me, my queen, my Lord Hand. I think I might retire for the night."
Queen Alicent looks at you, and then at Aegon behind you, her eyes wide and searching. "Are you well, my dear?"
"Just a slightly sore head, Your Grace. Nothing a good sleep will not remedy."
Her smile is tight. "Do not hesitate to send for the maester should you need him. Sleep well, my dear."
You curtsey, and turn to do the same in Helaena and Aemond's direction. "My princess, my prince."
Helaena smiles at you, and Aemond's face is as cold as before. You sweep past Aegon on your way to the door, and ignore how he tries to reach for your hand as you pass him.
Out in the corridor, you lean against the cool stone wall, and try to hold back your tears. The soldiers either side of the hall doors keep their gazes forward. You clamp your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stay silent. How much distaste looked at you with pierces you.
Since you met him, you have felt a draw to him. Sometimes, you have even managed to make him smile enough to laugh. Each time, the queen had looked so pleased. He doesn't seem to laugh often, but you bring that out in him. What a prize. And then, other times, he barely pays you any mind. He doesn't strike up conversations with you unless you speak first. He doesn't invite you to dance.
Those moments with him are precious to you. To him, they don't seem to matter in the slightest.
Meanwhile, Aegon throws himself at you like a whore. Perhaps, one day, you'll take him up on the offer - if for no other reason than to feel something. To close your eyes under his touch and imagine Aemond. Anything is better than this loneliness, surely.
You have to get out of here. As weak as your legs feel, you overcome the desire to crumple, and quickly, you begin walking down the corridor towards your rooms. Until you are married, your rooms are far from the royal quarters - quite a trek through the maze of the Red Keep. The doors to the hall where you have just had dinner with the royal family swing open and then closed, and footsteps join yours.
"Wait!" a command is barked. "My lady."
You ignore the order. Your betrothed is not yet your lord husband - he does not command you. Well, as a prince, he does. But the tears have begun to stream, hot and thick, from your eyes, and surely that will disgust him.
"My lady!"
Even Prince Aemond's harsh voice brings butterflies to your stomach. His gait is far longer than yours. You won't disgrace yourself by running like a child from him, and so he quickly catches up with you. As you walk quickly, he matches his steps to yours.
"You have no respect, do you, my lady?"
Furiously, you wipe your cheeks. "I have respect."
"Then stop when you are commanded."
"The command itself is not respectful. I wish to retire."
"And I wish to speak with you."
The wine. Blame the wine. "That is quite unusual."
He grabs your arm and pulls you into a shadowy alcove. "Do you deliberately wish to displease me?"
You try to wrench your arm from his hold but he's too strong. "There is nothing deliberate about it, but it seems it is the only feeling I can inspire in you."
He stares at you through the shadows, his purple eye searching, cold, and his jaw set. "And here I had thought you were intelligent."
"Do you often think of me?" Your voice is laced with accusation.
"More than you know."
"I know nothing."
"On that much, we agree."
You try to pull out of his hold again, but his slender hand is impossibly strong, a vice around your bicep. "What do you want from me, my prince?"
"Dignity."
"What, pray tell, have I done that you deem undignified?"
His lip curls slightly. He pulls you closer to him. "You danced with him."
"He is your brother - it would be shameful to decline his invitation."
"And what of his other invitations? Do you accept those?"
Your stomach drops, and your eyes widen. "I know not of what you speak," you lie.
"He is a lecherous beast, not worthy of my sister, not worthy of-"
"Of whom?" you challenge.
His lips pull back over his teeth for a moment. The dim light makes shadows sharp across his angular face. Gods, he is beautiful. Even in rage, he is beautiful. And you do not fear him. You only fear his indifference. "You are my betrothed. I expect you to act as such."
"And how ought you act as my betrothed?"
"As I see fit," Aemond says, each word slow and deliberate.
"What of my expectations?"
He glares down at you. Gods, he's tall. It makes you weak. "What expectations do you have?"
"That my betrothed at least pretends to like my company."
That makes his spine straighten. The hand on your arm loosens slightly, and to your surprise, it trails up your shoulder and lightly touches your throat. It's impossible to breathe under such sudden tenderness. You can feel the callouses on his palm. "Pretend?" he echoes.
You nod stiffly. "I do not need to pretend. You know I enjoy your company. Too much, I think."
"Too much?"
"Don't. Do not do that."
Aemond's eye watches as his finger touches the base of your throat in the soft spot between your collarbones. It's where he gently feels your pulse. It's so quick. "Do what?"
"Do not pretend that you are unaware of my feelings."
"There is no pretence. I know not."
You push his hand away, although the touch has made your skin rise in goosebumps from your thighs to your scalp. "Then you are as blind with one eye than with none."
He snorts humourlessly. "Elucidate for me."
The wine, the wine, the wine. You shove his chest and he stumbles back, caught unawares. "I like you a great deal. And it agonises me that you do not feel the same. It is a humiliation!"
Swallowing thickly, Aemond's expression softens. "Aegon makes you laugh. I do not."
"Aegon is a fool, and makes me laugh as such. But I do not... I do not care... like I do... for..."
"You care?"
You could hit him, you really could. "If you could not tell by now, then we shall never make one another happy."
When you turn away to walk off, he catches you again, and suddenly he pulls you tight against his tall frame, and his arms are around your back, and his face is close to yours. "You make me laugh, my lady."
"I make many people laugh. You could make me a royal fool."
"Do not say such things," he hisses, anger flashing again. "You're my betrothed. Mine."
"I do not want to belong to you like a book or sword."
"Yes, you do." He leans down and whispers against your ear. "You are mine, and mine alone. I am sorry that you did not know that until now."
"Do you say this out of pride or love?" you ask, more bravery in your voice than you truly feel.
"My love is proud. And so too is my betrothed."
"Pride does not drive me, my prince. Only love."
"Do you love me?" he murmurs. It is good he is too close to look at. If he faced you, you would not have the strength to answer.
"I do."
"Not Aegon?"
"No."
He kisses under your ear. You whimper. His voice is so silky. "You will not dance with him again."
"Will I dance with you?"
"Every night until we are wed."
As he winds his arms tighter around you, you press a hand into his hair. "And once we are married?"
"We shall have no time for dancing. I shall have no mind for anything but possessing you."
"You want to possess me?"
He kisses your skin. "Entirely. For already, I am yours."
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slasherhaven · 4 months
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Slashers with a significant other who is a cam girl and wants them to be in one of their videos? 💃
2 posts in 2 days who do I think I am? See ya'll in a year! /j
CW: NSFW
You do Cam Work and Ask the Slashers to be in your Videos:
Thomas Hewitt
Thomas is pretty conservative when it come to sex and such, but he's come around to your cam work, especially since you let him help with the details.
You like when he picks what you were or what scene you might do. You made Thomas feel like a part of it and that made him comfortable with it.
Still, he's very surprised when you ask if he wants to do a video with you. He refuses immediately and you respect that.
You ask again a while later but with more details. Like nobody would know who he was, you would keep his face out of the shot, and the two of you will do whatever he is comfortable with.
Your first video with him is of you riding him. His head isn't in the shot but the rest of his frame is. The size difference goes hard and your audience agrees.
Thomas is a flustered mess when you sit to read with comments with him. Everyone is talking about the new man in your video, gushing about how big he is and how attentive he is. Even with his size it seems your audience could sense his gentle soul, commenting on the chemistry you both have and how they would love to see him again!
Thanks to all the lovely comments, Thomas agrees to do another video even if he doesn't see himself putting his face on camera any time soon.
Michael Myers
Michael honestly does not care that you do cam work.
When you first ask him to be in a video, he pretty much ignores it.
But when you ask again some time later he doesn't see why not.
As long as his face isn't in the video or anything, you can film it, he doesn't really care.
The videos you make with him afterwards are pretty similar to your first video with him.
Usually you bent over while Michael fucks you to tears.
Michael is barely in the shot most of the time. Sometimes it just a close up on you, other times it includes Michael but only ever getting at high as his chest.
Everyone is obsessed with your mystery man. Where did he come from? What was that scar from? Can we see more of him please!!!
Jason Voorhees
We all know that Jason's comfort levels with sex is extremely low and it takes a while for him to become comfortable with physical intimacy. So cam work is certainly going to take some time for him to come around to.
And once he's become more comfortable with that, it's going to take a whole lot longer before he feels comfortable being in a video.
When he does decide to give it a go, he is a real hit!
He refuses to show his face on camera and you do whatever it takes to make sure he is as comfortable as possible.
Before Jason says you can use his name in videos and descriptions, your audience referred to him as 'the gentle giant', which is completely accurate!
No matter your usual content, Jason is nothing but gentle with you when he's in a video.
Brahms Heelshire
Watches your videos over and over again, he loves them. He'll watch you record them and watch them later once you've posted them. He can't get enough.
He's already got his pants off when you ask if he wants to be in one of your videos. You end up fucking even though you're not filming it.
He actually doesn't have much of a problem with having his face on camera. He's still a little insecure about his facial burns but you have alleviated most of that by this point.
And after the first video and he reads all those positive comments. Some are as horny for him as they are for you.
Fully embraces his new pornstar identity. He's insufferable.
He'll be in any video you want and your audience love watching you take care of your needy brat.
Bo Sinclair
Bo is in fully support of your work, it brings some money in and he gets to watch your videos. Even if his possessiveness still often gets the better of him. Whenever he reads comments of people praising you, Bo has an insatiable need to bend you over something just to prove a point.
Gets all cocky and arrogant when you ask if he wants to be in a video.
Needless to say, he agrees to do it.
And he takes to it pretty easily. He knows how to get all of his favourite reactions from you, how to get you pleading and begging for him, and he wants everyone watching to know.
Bo is arrogant and always smirking when the camera is on but it performs well.
He likes to how the camera and film himself entering you. He really does have a terrible ego.
Vincent Sinclair
It gets Vincent flustered, he could admit that, but he appreciates the artistic side of it all. It takes more effort and consideration than one might think!
He likes helping you get ready for a video and taking care of you afterwards.
He's hesitant when you first ask if he wants to be in a video. A part of him wants to do it with you but he's not confident enough in himself.
But he loves making you feel good and at this point he knows he's good at it, so he gives it a try. You can film them without posting them after all, like practise runs.
He may never show his face but he doesn't mind having his body on camera. Sometimes he even just hides his face with his hair instead of keeping his head out of the shot completely.
On Vincent's more self-conscious days, he'll film close ups of him fingering you instead.
He's very good with his hands and your audience agrees. They are very jealous of you.
Lester Sinclair
Lester is pretty neutral on your work, but of course he absolutely loves your videos.
He's mostly just surprised and flustered when you first ask if he wants to be in one of your videos. He thinks you're perfect so he understands why people would want to watch you, but he doesn't really see why people would want to watch him.
But he still agrees to it because he's your biggest supporter!!!
Your audience love the chemistry and intimacy between you both, leaving comments about how real your videos feel.
The videos that perform best are usually the ones where the two of you forgot you were even filming, just giggling together and enjoying each other. Lester gets all nervous and shy when the camera turns on, which is adorable, but forgetting that the camera is there really does help him perform better, the sweetheart.
Your audience love your more thought out and planned videos but appreciate the occasional more relaxed video with your sweet boyfriend.
Bubba Sawyer
Super flustered by your work but he's supportive.
Is super surprised and nervous when you ask if he wants to be in a video.
He agrees to give it a try once you explain that you can always delete it and nobody has to see it if he changes his mind or doesn't like it.
Bubba is just a big sweetie really, and you know just how to turn him into a squirming, blubbering mess.
And your audience love to watch you do it!
In later video's you do, you use the viewers' comments to fluster him even further. Using all the kindest and sweetest comments that say how lovely he is .
Come on, Bubs, they love you, they're being so nice. Why don't you say thank you?
Billy Lenz
Billy loves watching your videos and when you ask if he wants to be in a video with you, he is so excited!
He's completely down to make some home videos but he's a little unsure about putting it online for other people to see.
So you make it so his face isn't visible and let him watch the final edit before uploading it. He thinks it's so hot, he can't say no.
Honestly, you could do really well with just audios alone though. People will go wild for it. Billy unable to keep his mouth shut, all those desperate moans and whines and noises, the sticky wet slapping of skin. Honestly, a video element is just a bonus at this point.
And who gets off to the video the most? Billy obviously!
Asa Emory (The Collector)
Asa monitors your accounts anyway, even if you don't know it. He wants to know what you're posting and how people are responding. Don't want any bullies or trolls, right?
He's probably tried to manipulate you into suggesting it anyway.
He doesn't have much of a problem with your cam work, he's just a possessive bastard and would love to claim you in front of your entire audience.
The mask stays on!
Okay, he designs a new mask to avoid any chance of self criminalisation but whatever.
You two can make it big in BDSM communities.
Ties you up, blindfolds you, gags you. Whatever he feels like, but often seems to focus the camera on your reactions rather than on what he is doing to you. Studying his favourite little specimen.
Your audience already adored you of course, but they also love this new Dom you brought it.
There is no doubt as to who you belong to now.
Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)
Obviously Jesse has no problem with being on camera and he already has a pretty big ego, so he'll probably even wear the Chromeskull mask. It's his signature whether it's for his snuff films or your cam work.
Like Asa, you do absolute numbers in the BDSM community. Everyone is very pleased with his fully suited up, masked Dom that you brought in.
He already has his Chromeskull persona all fleshed out so he just brings that energy to your videos.
He's a sadistic Dom and you might have to upload an Aftercare video at some point just to reassure your more loyal audience that you're alright and always well taken care of afterwards.
Otis Driftwood
Is obviously a fan of your videos and isn't going to stop you from making them. You aren't actually fucking anyone else, so he's cool with it. And if he feels particularly jealous or possessive at some point, he knows he's the only one who can actually pin you down and have his way with you.
Oh yeah, he's down to make a few videos with you. He's probably got some old tapes of his own somewhere, long forgotten. He's not shy.
Says the filthiest shit, it kinda becomes his think on your platform.
Otis can be absolutely disgusting but, fortunately, there is an audience for that and they flood to your videos.
Calls you all sorts of names, asks you if you get off on knowing everyone is going to watch him fuck you. That everyone is going to see all the things you let him do to you.
Baby Firefly
Baby loves that you do cam work, she loves performing. She happily does your hair and makeup, she helps you pick out costumes and which toys you'll use in that video.
Hell, she's even filmed a video or two for you!
She's your number one supporter so of course she jumps on camera as soon as you ask if she wants to be in a video.
The two of you are all dolled up and she's magnetic, the audience love her as much as they love you.
The two of you are absolute menaces if you decide to do a livestream, pulling in huge donations because Baby is going to pout and taunt. Why should the two of you put on a show if they're not showing their appreciation properly?
Baby is the type to respond to very low donations with "it's alright, you can just say you're poor". She never promised to play nice and she just thinks you're worth more than that!!!
You end up apologising for her.
People are into it though.
Yautja (Predator)
Your mate doesn't quite get it but he's cool with it.
Is hard as soon as you ask if he wants to be in a video. Yautja's aren't very conservative or prudish when it comes to sex and nudity, so you weren't too surprised.
He loves the thought of taking you, of claiming you, and everyone knowing that you're his mate. That he's a worthy mate for you.
Even when he's a regular feature in your videos, he doesn't completely understand it, he just knows he's into it.
Everyone loves to watch you try to take him fully, the struggle, the determination, the satisfaction when you manage it.
You have cornered the Monster Fucker market. They don't know if it's real, if it's a very elaborate costume, or very realistic animation, either way they are eating it up.
All the other performers who use alien dildos and such are super jealous, obviously.
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freedomfireflies · 5 months
Text
Better Not Pout*
Summary: The one where Harry isn't leaving until he gets what he really came for.
You.
Word Count: 10.6k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, violence, guns, gunplay, exhibitionism (This one-shot is a bit darker, so please only read if you feel comfortable! 💞)
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December 24th, 1945.
The streets of Chicago are cold. Windy. Dark. Everyone is either at home, visiting loved ones, or spending their Christmas Eve at the one place they know they’ll be welcome.
The Bees Knees – the renowned, underground speakeasy – is rather sparkling tonight. The customers continue to bustle in, some here for the booze, some here for the atmosphere and warmth, and some for the entertainment.
You.
You’re one of the establishments best performers, three nights of the week. Employed by none other than Johnny Winters himself to sing for the lost souls of Chicago as they drown their worries in a bottle of whiskey.
You quite like your job, and the people you work with. Milton, who tends the bar, always has a compliment to lend, offering you engaging small talk between sets or any new mixes he might make.
And Johnny isn’t so bad. But perhaps you’re a bit biased, seeing as he is your fiancé. But more than that, he’s one of the most powerful men in all of town. And considerably wealthy, which you suppose doesn’t exactly hurt.
But he’s also kind. Giving. And so very attentive. He spends every second he’s not working with you. Doting on you, showing you off to all of his friends. And having such a handsome man on your arm is certainly not the worst thing.
Tonight, however, Johnny is nowhere to be found. Which you don’t consider to be too terribly odd, given how much work he mentioned he’d be catching up on. 
Even still, he hates to miss your performances, and insisted that you keep a part of him with you as you take center stage tonight in the small bar.
That part happens to be in the form of a stunning red, silk dress that was gifted to you for this very occasion. It sits on your frame like it was always meant to be yours, hugging every desirable curve, and showcasing just enough skin to taunt the imagination of those in the audience.
You don’t think you’ve ever felt so beautiful, and you walk up the steps tonight with pride. Shoulders back and painted lips poised with your first song.
The few gentlemen scattered across the main floor holler when the spotlight finds you, and you offer your signature smile.
“Evening, gentleman,” you call as the pianist begins behind you. “How are you all doing tonight?”
A few whistles are offered that make you laugh, and just like that…the show begins.
Santa Claus Came in the Spring is always a favorite, and you croon the festive lyrics while the live band follows your lead.
And even though the crowd is rather dull and distracted, you have a blast. You feel comfortable in this role and in the way their eyes drink you in. Even if their attention drifts between you, their drinks, and the cigars.
In fact, you get so swept up in your act that you hardly notice the door open or the tall, lanky stranger that slinks in from the cold.
But when his head lifts, and his eyes find yours, you feel a hitch in your throat.
Unfortunately, he looks away all too quickly, pulling off his trench coat before moving along the shadows toward the far end of the bar.
He goes unnoticed by those around him, yet your attention follows him all the way to the booth that he settles in. And it stays even after he’s leaned back, gotten comfortable, and pulled a cigarette from his rather expensive looking suit pocket.
But even though your focus has drifted, you don’t miss a single beat of the song. After all, you could sing it in your sleep, and this habit serves you well as the intriguing stranger finally shifts into the light and allows you a better look at his face.
He’s…stunning. Absolutely beautiful, with his slicked back curls, sharp jaw, and pointed nose. And he’s lighting the end of a cigarette with what you can only call practiced precision before perching it between his two, crimson-colored lips. 
Rings adorn his fingers as he holds the nicotine to his mouth, inhaling a long drag before exhaling the dark smoke from his lungs.
Yet unlike the other patrons in the bar, this man seems to be rather put together. He’s not missing any teeth, his skin isn’t stained with dirt or grease, and his clothes appear to be rather new. It’s quite the upgrade from the usual appearance you’ve grown used to, and you can’t help but feel rather relaxed.
And it’s now that you realize that this striking stranger seems to be watching you much like you’re watching him. Studying your dress, your silhouette, the way you grip the microphone stand. He takes in each detail presented before him with what looks to be wonder, and your cheeks instantly grow warm.
Still, you carry on with the ballad, making your way through the final chorus and the last few notes as the band plays you out with a flourish.
The few men in front of the stage clap, and you smile gratefully as you nod your thanks and call out your appreciation.
Jingle Bells is next, and a few more people join in on the fun this time around. They clink their glasses together or belt out the lyrics a few seconds too late and wildly off-key.
Even still, it’s rather fun as you continue on with your set before finally wrapping it up with a high note that’s accompanied by a rather lively trumpet solo.
And once it’s all over, the room bursts into applause. You wave to the growing audience, taking a quick bow before gesturing toward the band. Offering them their due praise which the crowed quickly obliges.
But you notice the man in the booth keeps his expression indifferent as he continues to watch you exit the stage and make your way to the bar. He doesn’t applaud your performance or even offer a smile of encouragement. He merely takes another hit of his cigarette and throws his arm over the back of his seat. A position you imagine is intended to display dominance more than it is to find comfort.
Truth be told, you find it rather unnerving. He doesn’t seem to be here for the alcohol or the company. Perhaps he’s only here to get out of the cold or perhaps he’s avoiding his home.
Either way, his focus stays only with you, and you feel a sharp chill run down your spine as you turn to the counter and flag down Milton’s attention.
You ask for a drink and request that he tell Johnny that you’ll be waiting in his office until he arrives. 
He quickly agrees, preparing the beverage for you before jutting his chin toward the silent stranger.
“Want me to have him escorted out?” he asks, but you only smile as you shake your head.
“No need, I’m sure he’s harmless.” You take the crystal glass and tip it toward him in thanks. “Besides, the attention is rather nice.”
Milton nods his understanding and you leave it at that, taking your drink toward the hallway just off the corner of the room.
You sip leisurely as you stroll to Johnny’s office, picking up the edge of your long gown so it doesn’t drag on the floor. The sounds of the crowd grow quieter and quieter with each step you take, and soon, it’s nothing but silence.
After retrieving the key Johnny insisted you keep on you at all times, you slip open the door, and make your way inside.
It’s quite dark, given the time of night and lack of lighting. He’s only got three lamps in the room, one by the window, one on the shelf, and one on his desk.
Right beside a photo of you.
Getting your photograph taken is quite the privilege, but Johnny insisted he have a vision of you in his office at all times. And you couldn’t help but indulge him, allowing him to dress you up and place you in front of the large contraption one Sunday afternoon in spring.
It’s his favorite thing in the entire world, and he mentions it constantly. Commenting on your beauty or your ethereal outfit. You know he’s only trying to embarrass you, but it’s still rather flattering to hear.
You grin to yourself as you take a seat in the large chair behind the wooden table. Downing the rest of the contents in your glass before setting it down and taking a glance around the large space.
Vaguely, you hear footsteps approaching just outside the door. Echoing through the hall as your grin grows a bit wider. 
And as the knob turns, you expect to see the handsome face of your Johnny.
What you don’t expect, however, is the green-eyed devil and his quiet charm.
He’s followed you. You assume this immediately, and your heart leaps into your throat as he steps inside…and shuts the door behind him.
A tense silence settles between you as you slowly sit up and force in a quiet breath. “Hello,” you call quietly.
The sound of your unsteady voice seems to amuse him, the corner of his mouth curling up as the burning cigarette sits tucked between his lips. “Hello, mama.”
You feel your lashes flutter. “Can…can I help you?”
“I’m looking for your fiancé,” he says, and his voice is low. Deep. And you believe you catch just a hint of an English accent. “This is in fact his office, is it not?”
You hesitate, unsure whether or not to disclose such information to a stranger. “It…yes. Yes, but he’s not here right now. Perhaps you could come back later?”
“Later,” he repeats, almost thoughtfully as his head tilts. Then, he tsks. “See, I’m afraid later just doesn’t work for me. I need to speak with him right now. It’s quite urgent, and I’d like to finish this up and be home to my lover by midnight.”
“Oh…” You shift a bit in your seat and hope he doesn’t notice how nervous you’ve become. “Well, I would love to help, but I don’t believe I know when he’ll be in.”
He considers this for a moment before striding further into the room. Eyes tracking every tremble of your fingers and heave of your chest. “Can I tell you a secret, mama?” he murmurs, placing both hands on the desk and leaning closer.
You nod.
“Your boy Johnny owes me money,” he whispers. “And I’m here to collect.”
And now you understand. Now you know why he’s here. Because even though his tone is friendly, it can’t disguise the threat you know lingers underneath. 
“Oh,” you whisper back, and he hums.
“Exactly. And I’m a pretty reasonable guy. Decent. So, I’ll make you a deal.” He begins to smirk behind the cigarette. “If he’s not here within the next five minutes…you and I will find another way.”
The truth is, you don’t really know too much about the financial side of Johnny’s affairs and business. You know he has plenty of money, but you don’t know what he does with it. Or where he keeps it.
And if this alluring stranger seems to think you’ll be his key…you’re afraid he’ll be mistaken.
“Problem, Doll?” He seems smug, and it makes your skin crawl. “M’not scaring you, am I?”
The answer is obvious to you both, but you force yourself straighter and attempt to appear calm. “Not at all, sir. I only want to help.”
"Mm? Good girl,” he mumbles, eyes flicking down to your painted red lips. “Knew you’d behave for me.”
Your heart is hammering inside of your chest. You’re unsure what to do now. Do you ask him to leave? Do you scream for help? Do you call the police?
And where the hell is Johnny?
He should be here by now, especially after promising to wrap up his meeting early in order to catch your last performance before Christmas. He’s always here. One of your biggest fans and greatest protectors. 
The only thing you can truly think to do now is attempt to call him. You figure the police won’t get here in time, but at least if this gentleman can be assured that Johnny is on his way, he won’t be as inclined to act rashly.
However, the moment your fingers lift from the desk in order to reach for the phone, the stranger reaches for something, too.
In a matter of seconds, he’s wrapping his hand around the barrel of a gun, pulling it from his back pocket, and aiming it straight at your head. Cocking it loudly as you gasp and withdraw your arm as quickly as possible.
“What are you doin’, hm, mama?” There’s a haughty condescension in his sneer, laced with just the faintest disappointment. “Thought you were gonna be good.”
“I…I was just going to call him,” you stammer. “I know you’re in a hurry.”
The stranger studies you now, that familiar smirk beginning to fade as his attention flicks across your face. Perhaps he suspects a lie or perhaps he merely doesn’t trust you, but truth be told, you know better than to try and pull a fast one on him. 
Finally, he plucks his cigarette from between his lips before tossing it to the floor and nodding at you. “Yeah? Go on, then,” he instructs, reposition the barrel at your chest. “Call your little pretty boy. Tell him he’s got a visitor.”
With a racing pulse, you once again slowly reach for the telephone, eyeing the gun carefully as you scoot closer.
You’re careful not to make any sudden moments. Hesitant to even look at him for fear of upsetting him, but your timid demeanor only entertains him further.
He simply chuckles as he slowly makes his way over to your side of the desk. Snatching up the phone just before you can reach for it and handing it to you almost cockily.
Curious, you glance up. That soft green in his eye is almost alluring, even despite the circumstance. Still, he reeks of nicotine and expensive cologne, and you lean back in an attempt to put as much space between you as you can.
He smiles. “I’m gonna watch you dial,” he tells you calmly. “Make sure you keep your word. Okay, Doll?”
Posed like a question, although you both know you don’t exactly have a choice. And you'd likely point this out if you were just a touch braver, but nevertheless, you nod. Agreeing to his terms as you take the phone and begin to dial.
As the seconds go by, you feel him watching you closely while the line rings. Leaving you to desperately await the sound of your sweet Johnny’s voice. A sound you’ve never needed more than in this moment.
Yet his voice never comes, and your heart sinks to the cold floor blow as you return the phone to the desk.
“He…he must already be on his way,” you murmur, and the man hums.
“You think so?”
You nod weakly.
He takes a seat on the edge of the desk, just inches from your arm before leaning closer. “How much are you willing to bet, hm?” His brow raises. “How sure are you that your precious fiancé will actually save you tonight?”
You feel trapped by him now. The closer he moves, the faster your heart pounds. You have nowhere to run, no personal space to disappear into. 
But you only have to hold on for just a little longer. Johnny will come for you. He always does.
“Incredibly sure,” you respond, ignoring the slight waver in your voice. “He said he would be, so he will.”
The man considers this before clicking his tongue. “All right. Then how about I make you another deal, yeah? For every minute he’s late, and for every minute he leaves you here unattended…I’ll put an extra bullet through his head.”
A sharp chill runs down your spine, skin growing hot and prickly, but you force your expression to remain unfazed. “And why would you do that if you need him so badly?”
The gentleman laughs now. A sound that would almost be charming if he weren’t so vile. “Because I don’t need your precious Johnny,” he answers calmly. “I just need what’s in his safe.”
And despite the danger you’re in and despite your better judgment, your features scrunch into a grimace as you scoff, “Oh, how pathetic.”
Your reaction loosens his smile.
“Truly, how incredibly pathetic to come all the way down here at this time of night – and on Christmas Eve – just to break into his safe,” you huff. “Honestly. He won’t give you a damn thing. And you have absolutely no business to come storming in here and—”
You don’t get the chance to finish the rest of your furious scolding before he’s suddenly standing to his feet and wrapping his fingers around your arm.
Instantly, you’re yanked from your chair and shoved against the bookcase just behind you. Hard enough to knock the wind from your lungs as he traps you there, leaning in so close, his nose nearly brushes your own. 
“I’d be careful how you fucking speak to me, mama,” he seethes quietly, yet even still, there’s just an air of pleasure. “Because you might not get the chance to do it again.”
He’s desperate to scare you. Desperate to see you cry, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction.
Instead, you suck in a sharp breath, and do the one thing you can think to do:
You spit.
The collection of saliva just misses his eye, landing on his cheek with a rather wet splat until the amusement fades and fury takes its place.
His fingers leave your arm and find your throat, curling around the delicate skin and forcing your head up as he begins to chuckle darkly.
“So, that’s how you wanna play, hm, Doll?” Another tsk. “You wanna be bad? Wanna test my fucking patience?”
You squirm a bit in his hold, yet for some reason, you don’t feel as frightened as you did before. Because there’s this look in his eye – this hunger. And even though his grip is tight…you feel oddly safe.
“Better find a way to keep this pretty little mouth shut,” he says next, head cocking to the left almost curiously. “Or I’ll have to shut it for you.” 
His attention returns to your mouth, fingers slowly slipping up toward your chin until he can brush is thumb over the painted fibers of your lips.
Just enough to taunt you yet startle you all in the same second. 
“Maybe,” you finally breathe before jerking your head away from his cruel touch. “If you knew how.”
The cocky grin widens as his hand immediately returns to your neck. “Still disobeying me, hm?” he nearly purrs. “Guess I could always just squeeze this sweet, little throat to keep you quiet, yeah? Feel your pretty pulse beneath my fingertips. Feel the life drain from your body…watch the light go out in your eyes.”
You take in a strained inhale, and he makes a sound that almost sounds like a groan.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, moving in just a bit closer until his lips are ghosting across yours. “Or maybe…I could put my gun in your mouth. See how chatty you are then, yeah, mama?”
Your chest heaves anxiously, but you find just enough confidence to whisper, “But without your gun, how will everyone know what a tiny cock you have?”
And you’re so proud of yourself. So endlessly pleased with the way you’ve managed to make his smug expression waver, even if he keeps his smirk in place.
“Oh, you think that’s funny,” he snorts as you attempt to bite back a laugh. “Well, you wanna know what I think is funny? I think it’s funny that you said Johnny would be here…and he’s not.”
“He will be,” you retort, a bit firmer. “He will.”
“See…you keep saying that,” he muses, placing one hand on the bookshelf beside your head. Truly trapping you beneath him. “And yet…your noble fiancé still isn’t here to save you.”
You tilt your head back in an attempt to appear stronger, but it doesn’t seem to fool him. 
“Are you afraid?” he whispers, chest brushing against yours. “Are you afraid your Johnny won’t be able to keep you safe from the bad man?”
It’s almost hostile, the way he goads you. And yet you can hear just the slightest concern beneath his question.
“Or maybe you’re afraid he can’t pay up,” he continues. “Maybe you’re afraid he’ll have to find another way.”
Suddenly, the grip on your throat constricts. Recapturing your attention.
“Are you gonna be my other way, mama?” he exhales. “You gonna be my consolation prize?”
You feel dizzy. The room is spinning. And you aren’t sure if that’s because of the hold on your neck or the way he’s speaking to you. 
However, before you can decide if you’re actually intrigued by his intimidation tactics…the sound of footsteps echo outside through the hall.
Johnny.
It has to be him. You almost need it to be him, and your shoulders unwind as the man glances toward the closed door curiously before finally leaning back.
Then, he grabs onto your arm for a second time, and flings you back toward the chair. Shoving you down and keeping you still.
“You’re gonna sit here and you’re gonna keep your fucking mouth shut,” he hisses softly right as the door swings open. “And then maybe…I just might reward you.”
But you don’t even mind this malicious threat because then you see him. Your fiancé, smiling brightly as his eyes find you before they flick to the man to your right.
For a moment, he seems surprised, seemingly assessing your position and the situation before his grin widens. 
“Ah, Mr. Styles,” he calls as he strides into the room, quickly removing his hat and coat. “What a pleasant surprise. Did we have a meeting tonight?”
He seems relaxed. Almost too relaxed, as though he doesn’t view this man as a threat, and you aren’t sure whether to feel relieved or wildly confused. You hadn’t exactly expected him to grab the mysterious guest by the collar and throw him out the window, but you also didn’t expect him to welcome him with open arms. 
A strange man is alone with his future wife, in his office, in the middle of the night, and that doesn’t seem to concern him even a little?
Perhaps Johnny is far too friendly for his own good.
The gentleman, in turn, straightens up while subtly slipping the gun behind his back. Tucking it into his belt just out of view before Johnny can catch it. “Not quite,” he says coolly. “I’m here to discuss a bit of unfinished business.”
Your heart sinks, yet Johnny merely nods. “Ah, I see. Well, is there any way this can wait until after Christmas? It’s been a long night, and I’d like to be getting the lovely lady home.”
Now, both of their stares turn to you, and eagerly, you begin to rise from the chair. Grateful for the opportunity to leave this unsettling stranger behind.
Yet before you can even find your footing, the man’s hand is coming down in a firm smack on your shoulder to force you back down.
“I’m afraid the lovely lady isn’t going anywhere,” he replies, and you catch Johnny’s expression fall. “And neither are you. Have a seat.”
Johnny begins to frown. “Look, Harry, whatever business we might have, I’m sure it can—”
“I said, have…a seat,” the man – Harry – repeats a bit brasher. “Yeah? Or things will get a lot worse for your darling fiancé.”
Johnny hesitates, eyes flicking to yours. But he must notice the panicked look you wear because he finally sighs and does as instructed. Taking a seat in the chair just in front of the desk before glancing toward Harry.
Harry nods, almost proudly. “There you go. S’not so hard, is it?”
Johnny’s figure slumps but his lips purse together. “What do you want?”
“Oh, I just want to talk,” Harry says, his smirk returning. “And lucky for you, your schedule just cleared up.”
“Harry—” Johnny begins, leaning closer as though getting ready to stand.
But instantly, Harry is reaching back behind him for the gun, pulling it free, and aiming the barrel straight at his head.
Johnny quickly leans back, eyeing the weapon hesitantly while you gasp and glance up at the stranger pleadingly.
Harry only looks at Johnny. “See, I’m running out of fucking patience. Eight goddamn months I’ve had to listen to you go on and on about this special fucking shipment you got. And now…it’s time to collect.”
Your sweet fiancé understands now. Realizes why this man is here and how real the threat is, and glances back at you almost apologetically.
You merely mouth, “It’s okay.”
Johnny’s eyes flick back to the gun. “I’d be careful waving that thing around. Somebody might get hurt.”
The man merely hums. “Oh, I’m fucking counting on it.”
Now, the office grows quiet. A tense, charged sort of energy that filters between the three of you as Harry begins to walk around the desk.
“So,” he continues, grabbing onto the other free chair in order to spin it around and sit in a straddle, “where’s the safe, Johnny?”
Johnny’s brow raises, but his Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do. Down at the club, you said you just got a brand new, fancy safe to hold everything from your latest shipment. Practically bragged about it to the whole goddamn bar, yeah? So…where is it?”
With piqued interest, you look between the two men curiously as you await Johnny’s answer. You’ve never really been sure where he gets all his money. You assumed most of it came from the bar and alcohol sales, so you’re rather stumped by what sort of shipment they might be referring to.
However, Johnny isn’t so quick to divulge all his secrets. “And what is it you’re expecting to get out of my safe, Mr. Styles?”
There’s another heavy pause as Harry rests his arms over the back of the seat and whispers, “Everything.”
Instantly, Johnny scoffs. “You think you can storm into my office on Christmas Eve and threaten my fiancé? Threaten me? That you’re entitled to anything you damn well please?” A bitter scoff as he leans back. “You’ll be arrested before morning, and you’ll never see a red fucking cent.”
 His retort dangles between them for only a moment as a breath catches in your throat. Pulse racing as you watch the stranger’s reaction closely.
Yet the mystery man doesn’t so much as flinch as he suddenly repositions the gun into the air, aims it just to the left of Johnny’s head, and fires.
The sound is deafening, much like your sharp, shrill shriek as the bullet flies through the air – just missing Johnny’s ear – and lodges into the wall behind him.
Johnny immediately flinches, eyes screwing shut and muscles recoiling before he seems to realize that he remains unharmed.
And once he does, he takes a deep breath, and begins to smirk. “You missed.”
“Did I?” Harry runs his tongue over his bottom lip before re-cocking the gun. “No, see…I never fucking miss. That was your first warning.” 
Johnny simply snorts. “Yeah? Well, eat my shit.”
Things move quickly from there.
Harry is instantly on his feet, tossing the chair aside rather angrily before he’s turning to you once more. And you don’t even have a moment to think before you’re being yanked from the seat for a second time and immediately tugged to his chest as he presses the barrel of the gun into the side of your temple. 
“Where’s the fucking safe, Johnny?” he says again, and you notice Johnny’s face pale.
“Styles,” Johnny murmurs, “you don’t have to do this—”
“The safe,” he seethes. “Where is it? Or do you need a little incentive, huh? Need to see her pretty little brains all over your goddamn floor? Is that what it’s gonna take?”
Poor Johnny doesn’t know what to do. He looks from the gun, to your face, to the arm keeping you hostage.
And you almost feel bad for him, yet you aren’t even afforded the chance for empathy before Harry furiously growls and shoves you in Johnny’s direction.
You stumble across the wooden floor until Johnny can quickly take you into his embrace, keeping you safe from the bad man as you begin to sniffle.
“My love,” he whispers, tightening his hold on your trembling frame while turning you away as if to protect you. “It’s gonna be all right, I promise.”
With a quick nod and a hiccup, you look up and slip your hands around his neck for comfort. “I know.”
He smiles.
It’s Harry’s disgusted sneer that brings you attention back. “Fucking pathetic. Really, mama? This is who you choose to save you?”
Your features fall ever-so-slightly while Johnny begins to pull you behind him, shielding you from the aggravated aggressor. “If you need money so badly, there are plenty of other ways.”
“It’s not just about money,” Harry retorts calmly. “It’s about your money. Yeah? So where’s the fucking safe.”
“None of your goddamn business—”
The reply no sooner leaves his mouth before there’s another gunshot fired into the air. 
One of the paintings on the wall falls with a crack and you jump almost two feet into the air, nails scratching down Johnny’s nice shirt.
“Johnny,” you whisper faintly, refusing to let this go on any longer. “Johnny, tell him. Tell him, please. I don’t care about the money; I don’t care about any of it. I just want you. I love you, and I can’t lose you.”
The office falls silent as you request hangs in the air, and you feel Johnny take in a deep breath.
“Yeah, Johnny,” Harry adds in a condescending murmur. “She loves you. Don’t make her watch you die. It’d be such a shameful waste of her tears.”
Johnny looks to you, and your expression softens. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “It’s okay, I promise.”
Finally, he sighs. “Under the desk.”
Harry’s head whips toward the large table curiously before he frowns. “Where?” he murmurs before repositioning the gun at Johnny’s chest. “I promise you don’t wanna lie to me.”
However, Johnny’s indifferent expression remains. “Under the desk,” he repeats while thrusting his chin toward the massive piece of furniture. 
And now Harry seems to understand, although it does little to relax him as he suddenly reaches for you again and yanks you from your lovers’ arms.
“Show me,” he hisses, keeping you hostage again while ushering Johnny forward with the barrel of the weapon. “And don’t be dense.”
And Johnny can do nothing but obey, seemingly defeated while sending you one last remorseful look. Finally moving to lift the desk and pull it back.
The sound of wood scraping against wood is heavy, and it takes him quite a while to relocate the table beneath the window by himself. 
But once it’s out of the way, you notice a particular part of the flooring juts out. The rotten board almost askew.
You and Harry lean closer, both magnetized by intrigue as he bends down in order to wrench the board up, revealing the hollow hiding place underneath.
And there you find it. The large, black box with a gold dial in the middle.
He glances up toward Harry, perhaps looking for permission – which Harry quickly gives him – before reaching down to put in the correct combination.
And after a couple seconds of clicking and turning…the door swings open.
Truth be told, you were hoping to find a secret gun that might help you out of this situation, but it seems there are no weapons to be found as Harry shoves you back in order to get a better look.
He no longer seems concerned about Johnny or the possibility that he might attempt to attack because Johnny seems to have given up. 
All your dejected fiancé does is straighten up and motion you back to him, watching Harry bend over and reach inside the safe almost uninterestedly. 
Your heart aches for him, yet you can’t help feeling relieved. You’re a few steps closer to this wretched night being over, and perhaps once Harry has what he came for, you’ll be able to leave.
“Are you all right?” Johnny whispers to you now as Harry begins to unload the contents in the floor. 
You nod quickly, clinging to his strong frame as though you’re scared you might be taken again. “Yes, I’m all right. Are you?”
“I will be once I know you’re safe,” he says, and your heart sinks.
Once everything inside the safe has been shoved into a bag, Harry turns to the two of you. “That was a good start, Winters. Now where’s the rest of it?”
Johnny frowns. “I don’t know what you mean. Everything I have is in there.”
But Harry only tsks as he sets the items down and begins to stride closer, making you curl even further into Johnny’s embrace. “Come on, now,” he mumbles almost tauntingly. “You know what I really want. And you know that you’re gonna fucking tell me. Isn’t that right, mama?”
He looks to you for only a moment as you swallow. 
Johnny begins to seethe. “No. No, you can have everything else, but you won’t touch that.”
“Johnny,” you try, unnerved by the sudden look of warning in Harry’s eye. “Johnny, please…just give it to him. Whatever it is, I don’t care, just…just make him leave.”
“Smart girl,” Harry adds. “Come on, Johnny boy, your darling fiancé is scared. Don’t you wanna save her?”
Your lover simply grows stiff, eyes narrowing at the faux sincerity in the stranger’s voice.
“Johnny,” you mumble again. “Johnny, please, he’s right. I’m scared and I don’t care about what you have or what you don’t have. I just want you. And I want him to go away.”
Still, Johnny wrestles with his decision. With the choice he’s being forced to make, and as the seconds go by, Harry’s patience reaches its limit.
He grabs for you – again. Forcing the weapon under your jaw this time around as Johnny’s muscles tense and his fingers curl into his fist.
“God, look at him,” Harry whispers to you now, lips ghosting up the shell of your ear while forcing your eyes on your fiancé. “Fucking look at your pathetic excuse for a man.”
You attempt to remain indifferent – appear unafraid – but he sees right through you.
“D’you really think he cares about you, Doll?” he murmurs. “Do you really think he’ll choose your life over his own?”
“Let her go,” Johnny barks, yet it only forces the barrel even further into your skin.
Your chin is tilted up, a sharp inhale getting caught in your throat until Harry begins to chuckle.
“How about this,” he says. “I’ll let you choose, mama. I’ll let you decide if he gets to watch me kill you…or if he gets to watch me take you. All for myself.”
“Fucking piece of shit—” Johnny hisses, but Harry simply tsks.
“So, what do you say? What’ll it be? Either way, I’ll have him on his goddamn knees by the end of the night. And then we all win, yeah?”
“Enough,” Johnny yells, and a strangled silence splits the air. “Fine. Fine, I’ll tell you. Just let her go.”
Harry’s arm begins to lower but not very far. “Once it’s in my hand, she’s all yours.”
And you want to resent these men for treating you like you’re some sort of object to be traded, yet you’d happily be given back to your lover if it meant you could leave this nightmare behind.
No matter the cost.
Johnny rolls his shoulders back and flicks his unrelenting stare back to his desk. “There. The picture.”
You feel your eyebrows raise while Harry slowly begins to loosen his hold on you.
“Get it,” he instructs, and with an aggravated sigh, Johnny obliges.
He retrieves the golden frame from the table before pulling open the back and removing the picture inside.
The picture of you.
It almost breaks your heart, the look on his face. Like he’s absolutely gutted to be defiling this memory of you both, and you ache to comfort him.
Once the photo has been plucked from the glass, you catch the faintest sparkle in the soft light of the moon, and hear yourself gasp.
There, sitting snug inside the small frame, is the biggest fucking diamond you’ve ever seen.
It’s…stunning. The most gorgeous jewel you’ve ever been privileged to lay eyes on, surrounded by what you can only assume to be hundreds of tinier diamonds and rubies arranged in a delicate but intricate pattern. 
Altogether creating the most breathtaking necklace you’ve ever seen.
It has to be worth hundreds of dollars – thousands, in fact – and Harry reaches over to take it from the frame with the biggest Cheshire-like grin you’ve ever seen.
This is what he came for.
“You have it, all right? You have it, now go,” Johnny calls, already attempting to reach for you. “You got what you want.”
With an agreeable hum, Harry studies the necklace a moment longer before finally looking to you. “You’re right. We did, didn’t we?”
You both smile.
Instantly, you raise the gun that Harry had discreetly and secretly slipped into your hand only moments ago and aim it at Johnny’s chest.
Three.
Johnny’s expression shifts, eyes widening as he begins to piece together what’s really going on. Why Harry looks so proud and why you look so relieved.
Two.
His lips part. Ready to speak to you, whisper your name, ask for an explanation. And a part of you can’t help but wonder if you’ll feel any remorse for the deception you’ve put him through these past few months.
But as you stare at him now…you feel nothing but liberation.
One.
The third and final gunshot echoes through the air. Louder and far more permanent. Resolute.
Johnny stumbles back, unable to catch himself before he goes tumbling to the ground. A dark red stain expanding like watercolor across his chest, ruining the clean white shirt underneath.
You’d bought him that shirt.
And as the look of life slowly leaves his eye, you feel your muscles unwind, and your shoulders droop.
It’s over.
Harry’s got his arms around you before you can even release the deep breath you’ve been holding onto for so long. 
“Oh, good fucking girl,” he nearly groans, pressing his lips to yours for the first time in months as you sling your arms around his neck. “Fucking hell, I missed you, mama.”
If Harry had had it his way, Johnny would have been dead months ago. He never liked this plan – not because he thought you couldn’t handle it, but because the idea of going without you for so long nearly killed him.
But it was the only way to gain Johnny’s trust. And to find his true weakness. He never would have given you the location of the safe or the necklace if you’d simply held him at gunpoint from the get-go.
No, he needed a reason to cave, a reason to put his possessions on the line in order to save something else he truly cared about.
And that’s where you came in.
Sure, it was hard to be without Harry, but you knew it had to be done. Getting these items would set you up for years. You’d never have to work in sleazy bars again. You could simply be with him…forever.
And perhaps pretending to be a stranger to him and appear frightened of his intentions wasn’t quite necessary, but you happen to like the roleplaying aspect. 
The way he threatened your life as though he wouldn’t do everything in his power to protect it. The way he taunted you, teased you, scared you…when he knew deep down how much you fucking loved it.
You can still feel his fingers around your neck. The pressure of his hand against your throat, holding you still, keeping you close. You hadn’t felt it in months and a part of you wanted to keep the game going for just a bit longer if it meant you could have him.
You weren’t able to run into his arms and kiss him the way you can now and it’s…perfect. Absolutely perfect.
“Did he hurt you?” he whispers, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw. “Did he fucking touch you—”
“No,” you’re quick to assure him. “No, never. He wanted to, but I never let him.”
“Good.” He takes hold of your hip and gives it a firm squeeze. “Good girl, knew you’d be on your best behavior, yeah?”
You grin. “Of course. Only ever thought about you.”
“Is that right, doll?”
“Mhm.” You tuck your lip between your teeth and nuzzle your nose to his. “How could it ever be him?”
His lashes flutter, and you can see the edges of his frayed sanity coming loose. He’s had to pretend for far too long, and you don’t imagine he can do it much longer.
“Yeah?” he murmurs, nearly clawing at your dress. “Then, maybe I’ll—”
“What…did you do?”
The sound of Milton’s confusion pulls you apart instantly. He’s standing in the doorway, eyes wide, expression horrified. Looking from his boss, to you, to Harry, and back.
He sees the necklace on the desk, sees the gun in your hand, sees the bag of gold and cash lying at Harry’s feet.
He understands, and your heart almost sinks. Milton was one of the good ones.
Quickly, Harry takes the weapon from you and points it in Milton’s direction.
Milton only leans back with a soft inhale while you turn to your lover and whisper, “No. No, not him.”
Harry’s pursed lips and furrowed brows never waver. “What?”
“Not him,” you repeat, as firmly as you can.
And he hesitates for only a moment before dropping the weapon and nodding his chin at you. “Grab the bag and go out the window.”
You nod your understanding before stealing one last glance at the bartender by the door.
He’s heartbroken and terrified…but his features grow softer as he finally mumbles, “…five minutes. I’ll give you five minutes.”
And you can’t help but smile.
You rush to grab what you came for and hurry to the window, with Harry right behind you. You don’t have a lot of time. Once Milton makes the call to the police, you’ll need to be far enough away that they can’t find you.
You know they’ll be looking. Know they won’t stop until they find you both – after all, they’ve been searching for you for years.
But you don’t mind a life that’s on the run, as long as it’s with him. 
And the pleased smile he offers you now only confirms this.
You quickly lift the hem of your dress and begin over the ledge, with Harry right beside you to help. He takes your hand for support, keeping you steady until you can safely drop to the ground outside before he’s following suit.
The moment his feet hit the ground, you both run. The Chicago air is cold – frigid. You don’t have enough clothes to truly cover you and your feet are sore from having to wear these outrageous shoes all night.
But you somehow feel…alive. Invigorated and so very free. You have everything you’ve ever wanted.
You have him.
You both slip along the shadows as you make your way through town, leaving the speakeasy and Johnny Winters behind. After a minute or two, you hear the sirens in the distance, and the stakes are raised. They grow louder and louder the closer they get, and it’s then that Harry recaptures your hand and tugs you into a dark alleyway for cover.
This is where you stay until the cars have zipped down the street and proceeded without you. They don’t even think to look for you here and you’re rather impressed with your lover’s quick thinking.
Harry, however, isn’t as quick to revel in the success. Continuingly peeking around the corner in order to watch for anything unusual. Ignoring your amused laughter and giddy grin of accomplishment.
He’s on edge. Alert. Ready to run again if need be, and while you rather admire his practiced precision, you hope to put it to better use. 
You drop the bag near the wall and make your way for him, palms quickly finding his cheeks in order to pull his attention to you.
He grunts. “What?”
But you don’t answer with words. You answer with a kiss. A kiss that makes your stomach flip and your mind grow fuzzy.
And this seems to be explanation enough as he groans with approval and wraps his arms around your middle to keep you against his chest. Nipping and licking at you as though his life depends on it.
Perhaps it does.
He shoves you back against the brick after only a few seconds, finding the leverage he needs in order to deepen the kiss and truly claim you. In a way he’d been desperate to the moment he saw you sitting in that office in such a beautiful dress.
“Trying to distract me, hm?” he murmurs, and you can’t help but smile. “Yeah? Or did you just need me that badly?”
He spins you around, pressing your cheek to the cold blocks of clay before dancing his fingers down your spine. Indulging in you.
It makes your insides twist.
You feel the hem of your dress gather in his fist as he finally gets a proper look at what he’s been missing for months. And the sound he makes goes straight to your cunt.
“You filthy fucking thing,” he whispers, rather delightedly while moving in to trail his mouth along your neck. “Look at you. Look at how perfect you are.”
His fingers find your pussy, stroking over your covered slit once or twice before plucking the covering from your hips and dragging it down your thighs. 
“Just dripping for me, yeah? All fucking night.” He drags his palm up the inside of your leg. “Power makes you weak, doesn’t it, mama?”
You nod desperately, unable to answer with words.
But he understands, smirking to himself rather deviously before his hands are tangling in your hair in order to yank your head back. Just to hear you choke on a whine. “I’ve waited months for this. Yeah? M’gonna take my time with you…gonna make it worth it.”
And you don’t doubt that you will.
You nod again as the sound of his leather belt coming undone echoes between your ears. You’re trembling with anticipation, body aching for the feel of his cock. It’s been far too long, and you’ve nearly withered away without him.
You imagine he feels about the same, already fisting himself in one hand and readjusting your dress in the other. You hear him mumble something under his breath – you’re not quite sure what. But you suppose it doesn’t matter. He can say whatever he likes as long as he gives you what you need. 
Normally, he’d take his time. He loves to make a show out of ruining you, but there’s no chance for that tonight. No patience. So, he kicks your feet apart, grabs your hip, and eases himself in all before you can take a breath.
And it’s perfect. Exactly the way you remember. The stretch, the scratch, the desperation. Nobody feels the way he does, and you both know it.
He’s still for a moment, merely pushing himself in and watching your pussy swallow him whole. As if so overcome by the sensation that he can’t do much else. As if losing control over his own body.
So, you push against his chest to remind him you’re here while your fingers reach back for his hair in order to tug it softly.
You feel him smile against your cheek. “All fucking night,” he whispers the moment he’s buried to the hilt. “Knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?”
You grin as well. You’re rather happy he noticed.
“Spitting in my fucking face,” he continues. “Challenging me. Acting like a fucking brat. S’all cause you were so fucking needy for me, wasn’t it, mama?”
“Maybe,” you can’t help but retort. “Maybe I knew you’d like it.”
He laughs now. A low, deep, sadistic sound from the back of his throat. Using his hold on your scalp to force your head into his shoulder. “Is that right, hm?”
You only nod.”
“Yeah? Then say it,” he hisses. “Tell me you missed me. Tell me you missed my cock. That nobody fucks you like I do—”
He accompanies this request with his first, sharp thrust. Pulling back only to drive himself in so hard, the air is nearly knocked from your lungs.
“Because they can’t, can they?” he coos, yet it’s angry. Fingers moving from your hair to your neck. Squeezing until you gasp. “Nobody knows how to treat this little pussy like I do. Do they?”
You fall mute. Going limp in his hold as the pleasure begins to build.
“You love it when I fuck you like this.” His nose presses to your cheek as he breathes, your delicate throat a plaything in his touch. “Love it when I kill for you. Love it when I make you mine—”
You gasp at the ecstasy, hardly able to hear him, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You love me,” he murmurs, and you just about disappear into his embrace.
“I do,” you gasp, almost too loudly. “I do, Harry, please—"
“Quiet,” he hisses, glancing now toward the street in order to make sure the police haven’t found their way to you. “You know better than that. You’ll take me and you’ll do it quietly. Understood?”
Your only response is to whimper pitifully while your nails scratch down the brick walls of the alley.
In turn, he grasps onto your jaw, forcing your head to the side until your eyes can meet. “I said, is that fucking understood?”
“I thought you said to be quiet,” you can’t help but retort, and he hums.
“Oh, is that how you wanna play it?” He releases your throat only to take hold of your hips once more and spin you around between thrusts. Quickly returning to his place between your thighs before lifting one of your legs and hiking it around his waist.
“What…” you begin, chest heaving as the tip of his cock drags down your clit. “What are you—” 
“Had to see you,” is his gritted response. “Had to see this pretty, bratty face as I ruined you.”
You imagine you’d smile if you weren’t so close to coming apart, but he understands. Pressing his forehead to yours before reaching up toward the top of your dress and ripping the fabric down to reveal your chest. 
You can tell he’s been wanting to do this all night. Know he’s been ogling your tits from behind the expensive fabric since the moment he walked in, and truth be told, that’s the real reason you wore it. 
Not because Johnny loves you in red.
But because Harry deserved to look at something pretty.
The cold air meets your skin with an unforgiving fervor, and you squirm against the brick as Harry’s eyes fall to the tattered fabric lying so pathetically on your chest.
Instantly, his head dips, mouth leaving open and sloppy kisses to the beautiful pair before him. Tongue stroking the hardened nipples rather respectfully, all things considered.
In turn, you run a hand through his dark curls as he does this to you. As you watch him take whatever he wants. Feeling the way his hair moves like butter between your fingers. The way he hums against you. The way his lashes flutter.
You’ve missed this.
Then, your grip tightens, and you yank his head up until his lips can meet yours. And you take. Take the taste of him, the taste of you, and the taste of victory.
His palm comes up to rest against the wall beside your head. Steadying himself as he works to find that perfect rhythm again. Over and over and over.
And all you can do is move your anxious kisses to his throat as he fucks into you. Whispering, “Nobody, baby. Nobody feels like you do. Nobody.”
Your fingers trail down his strong back, feeling each muscle that dips and flexes as he moves. The way he grunts when you scratch your nails down his spine. The way he consumes you and succumbs to you all at once.
Johnny was beautiful, but Harry is a beast. You’ve never seen a man like this before – never felt a man like this before. Every curve of his body is ethereal. Every detail, every touch.
Your touch continues to move lower and lower down his strong frame until you find something at the base of his spine.
And it makes you grin.
You slip it from his belt with ease, feeling the way it sits firmly in your hand as though it were made for it.
Harry doesn’t seem to notice. Or perhaps he just doesn’t care with the way he’s so deep into you. Emotionally, physically.
But he’s quickly pulled from his pleasured trance the moment he feels the familiar, cool touch of his gun sweeping across his jaw.
He stills. Straightening up ever-so-slightly, eyes finding yours.
But you’re too busy gazing at the barrel that dances across that beautiful face. 
After all, he got to have his fun this evening.
Now it’s your turn.
You bring it to a stop just under his chin, tilting his head up exactly the way he’d done to you earlier as he releases a deep breath.
“Mama…” he warns, but you only hum.
This isn’t the first time this deadly weapon has made this an unofficial threesome, but it is certainly the first time you’ve been the one to wield it.
You hate guns. You do. But you love Harry’s. The way he holds it. The way he handles it. The way he uses great care and great power.
Because there’s something about seeing him with it. Seeing the way he controls it, controls the room. The way he holds someone’s life in the palm of his hand…
Perhaps you should be concerned by how enamored you are by it. By him.
But not tonight. Tonight, you simply enjoy.
And from the look in his eye, he seems to be enjoying it, too.
After all, you know he loved watching you use it on Johnny. Know he almost had you right then and there, on Johnny’s desk, before the mission was even through.
He’s endlessly pleased with you, and you can’t help but use this to your advantage.
So, with the weapon still taut to his clenched jaw, you lean forward and ghost your lips over his. “What’s the matter, Daddy? Does power make you weak?”
The twitch of his cock is answer enough.
You go in for the kill. With your fingers dancing over the trigger button, you lean back and dip down before dragging your tongue up the length of the barrel.
His eyes nearly roll back, and the sound that leaves his chest is euphoric. You think you might just kill him.
Because you’re slow. Meticulous. Licking every inch of the weapon until you finally reach the tip still tucked just beneath his chin.
Then…you kiss him.
And he’s so overwhelmed that he growls into your mouth, no longer threatened by the gun at his throat. Instead grabbing onto the back of your neck in order to squeeze it tight and keep you close. Devour you the way he’s been so frantic to.
You don’t even realize that you’ve begun to lower the gun until you feel it snatched from your grasp.
And pressed tightly to your clit.
The cold surface of the weapon against the warmest part of your body has you arching your back with a whimper. He has the upper hand once more, and he’s certainly not about to waste it. Mouth curling up into a satisfied, smug grin at the way your expression has gone hazy.
You’ve never looked at another man the way you look at him and he knows it.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asks softly, adding just enough pressure to make you whine. “All fucking night? The moment you saw me? Saw my gun? Wanted me to fuck you with it?”
Your nails meet your chest, scratching down the frigid skin in a desperate attempt to find something to ground you.
His only response is to drag the tip of the weapon down just a bit further. Until he can watch it glisten in you.
“Fucking looking at you,” he muses beneath a strained exhale, enamored by the way you subconsciously begin to grind on it. “So desperate to feel it. To be fucked by it. And what if I do, hm? What if I fuck you with my gun right here in this alleyway?”
You only whisper his name and an airy, “Please…”
“I thought about it,” he continues quietly, nose brushing yours as he slips the soaked barrel back up your cunt. “Thought about ripping off this pathetic little dress and fucking you right in front of your precious fiancé.”
You wish he had.
“You’d have liked that, wouldn’t you, mama?” His fingers drum against the handle. “Yeah? I know you would. Would have loved to watch him watch me.”
And he’s not wrong. He hardly ever is when it comes to your darkest fantasies, and it’s just one of the many reasons why you love him.
“But I had to wait,” he tells you now, finally pulling the gun away from your dripping clit until you nearly crumple to the cold concrete below. “Because after all this time…I’m the only thing that gets to fill you tonight, yeah?”
You simply nod again as he brings the gun back to your mouth with a proud grin.
And you know exactly what he wants, swiping your tongue all along the barrel and tasting every drop, every indication of your need for him. Swallowing it all as he watches proudly.
The moment you’re finished, he takes the gun and returns it to his pocket, tucking it away safely. Because he’s right again, and you need to feel him far more than you’ve ever needed anything else.
So, you grasp onto his face and bring his lips to yours, allowing him to pick up right where he left off.
Because as much as you love the power…you love being weak for him more.
At least in moments like this.
He fills you and fucks you until you’re dizzy. Until you can taste the pleasure and the unraveling. 
You make a show of it. A way to apologize for all the time lost. Trailing the tips of your fingers along your own chest and down your sternum until you notice you have his attention.
He watches you take your tit into your palm before you’re tweaking the hardened nipple with a soft whine. Allowing your head to drop back into the wall while you do it again and again.
And he’s an angry sort of infatuated. Groaning almost pitifully before kissing you again and easily swatting your hand away in order to do it himself.
But that’s still not enough. So, you play your ace, and move your touch down to your clit in order to pinch it exactly the way he likes.
And it’s beautiful. The most exhilarating feeling, and this is what sends him over. The feel of your pussy clamping down on his cock, the sight of your fingers against your clit, the sound of your pathetic whimpers and pants as you cry out his name.
He fills you before he can stop himself, kissing you quickly as he releases into your aching, abused cunt. 
Claiming you in more ways than one until you have no choice but to follow.
It rips you apart in the same way he ripped the dress. Until you see stars, and your back arches, and your toes curl. And everything makes sense.
He works to make it last for as long as he can, and once it’s all over, there’s a soft, tender moment of silence as you work to catch your breath.
You forget about everything else. The sirens, the lies, the deceit. Even Johnny. You forget about it all.
Because you got more than a diamond necklace tonight.
You got Harry back.
After a second or two more, you lazily reach up to sweep some of his rogue curls from his forehead. Wanting to really see his eyes as he holds you tonight.
“Harry?” you whisper into the cold, dark alley.
He hums. “Yes, mama?”
“I love you.”
And you’ve never seen him so happy. “I love you more,” he breathes, kiss you again as if to cement this vow.
Eventually, the moment comes to pass, and you have to drop your leg back down to the floor and part from him. You find that your muscles are sore, and just a touch achey, but you don’t even mind. Because it’s somehow just as deliciously pleasurable.
Harry works to readjust your dress and keep you covered; despite the way he’s ruin the expensive fabric. He offers you his jacket – insists on it. Wrapping it around your shoulders before you can even argue.
You smile as you snuggle into the warm material, feeling calmed by the familiar smell of him.
“There,” he says as he looks at you before his head tilts. “Just missing one thing.”
Curious, you watch as he slips his hand back into his pant pocket in order to fish something out.
The necklace.
He hadn’t told you about it before the mission. Only about the safe, and now you think you’re beginning to realize why.
He places it around your neck and readjusts the clasp until it can sit comfortably over your heart. 
And you both look down as it sparkles from your chest, smiling together as though you truly can’t believe it’s real.
“You like it?” he whispers.
You grin so wide, your cheeks hurt. “I love it.”
He kisses you again, and it’s perfect.
Everything. All of it.
Him.
Suddenly, a loud toll echoes through the small town. The sharp chime coming from the clocktower in the town square.
Once, twice, three times. 
Midnight.
“It’s Christmas,” you realize aloud as you and Harry both glance toward the clock. 
His expression softens, and it makes your heart soar. “I guess it is.”
And then…you feel it. The first drop of something cold on your cheek. And then another. And another. And another. Gathering in your hair, getting stuck on his lashes.
Snow.
With a gasp, you look up into the dark sky as it dances down onto the quiet Chicago streets.
A rather perfect ending to a perfectly imperfect day.
And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
With a soft giggle, you curl yourself under his arm and press your lips to his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”
He laughs, and you’ve never been so happy.
“Merry Christmas, Mama.”
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I'M SORRY THIS ONE GOT A BIT DARKER, IT WAS FUN BUT MOSTLY JUST FOR THE ERA ASPECT!! Thank you for reading if you did and letting me write something a little weirder 😭💞
~ Main Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs
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inkskinned · 1 year
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there's this video you've probably seen already where a woman is shaking in front of a microphone and delicately tries to ask - how can i make my husband listen to me, i've tried everything, i don't want to seem ungrateful and the other man laughs - the problem is that you married a man, we're only listening 25% of the time and we only understand 5% of that! and the audience laughs and the woman laughs and you just sat there, phone in your hand, letting the sound of it echo
and the thing is that people make think-pieces about it (isn't this one of them) and satire versions and "flipping the script" which is good and fun but at the end of the day, there's some truth in that man's response about men-not-listening. and you have tried to language that feeling for years, this sense that you can only take up 33% of a conversation before others view it as being "dominating".
it's not that they aren't listening, it's that the action they're taking is purposefully silencing. it's different. you accidentally-don't-listen a lot; just because the world is loud and you're distracted. you don't mean anything by it. and the truth is that the man who spoke is relying on that to be true of you; the way it's true of everyone. but there is a different undertone to his kind of not-listening. what he means is they don't respect you and you shouldn't expect them to. there is a difference between oh shit i forgot to take the trash out and why didn't you remind me to do it, just like there is a difference between i didn't realize you wanted to go out this weekend and why do you expect me to plan things why can't you just tell me where we're going.
and the thing is that it isn't just him, and it's actually not just because of your gender - your skin, your class status, your weight, their ableism - it happens often. so often it feels like a tightness around your throat and a weight in your stomach. you're not even "really" allowed to be upset about it, because to them it's a joke. and they laugh. and you know exactly the amount of work that goes into every conversation. how you have to work to condense down your thoughts into intelligent, crisp soundbites; worried someone will try to swoop in and cut you off. and there's this sense from everyone else - oh stop being so sensitive, are you really upset just because they weren't listening and you don't know how to say the way that feels when it happens constantly.
there's that video of the science summit where a woman in the audience finally says let her speak please! and the whole crowd bursts into applause and the man leading the summit holds up his hands and bows his head and says oops, sorry! like what he did was awkward and embarrassing, a little social gaffe that happens easily. later in your meetings, you're asked to take notes, and you don't say anything, you just hear let her speak please! ringing in your head and know that you'll never be brave enough for that kind of thing. and besides. think of all the people who agree this was a one-off, he just got excited and all of the people who say one man is not indicative of all of society
at the dinner table you're talking about someone you don't like and how he's not good to his girlfriend and how she always has to remind him to put the effort in and before him, she was glowing with curiosity and passion but now she just seems... tired, unhappy. that he likes the way she burns out; she stays home and takes care of him and their 2 kids. and your father sniffs and says that men take a while to learn those kinds of things. and you just stare at him and think about your childhood and are like - no wonder i turned out like this
and you want to say - there's no fucking secret school or mystic form of communication. i was not sent to Rearing a Child University. i did not graduate from Getting Chores Done College. i ask questions and i listen and i pay attention, because that's basic fucking human decency. it stems from respect, and how i respect others and their agency. i clean the house because someone should clean. not because it comes "naturally".
hell, you had to google "how to boil an egg" the other day, just because you usually make them scrambled. you can never remember which of the 2 bathroom cleaners make chlorine gas, only that two of them definitely do. you've accidentally bleached your clothes. it took you like 3 years of self-teaching before you figured out how to actually cook things correctly - for that whole time, you burnt or undercooked everything. but you did teach yourself; just like you taught yourself how to listen with empathy. just like how you taught yourself to think before you speak. to be kind first, to be better at communicating. it seemed like a good thing, an adult thing.
the joke the man in the video makes is that women say i'm fine! when they are not fine. and you think about the 150 conversations that happened around that; about how she probably has had so many arguments with her husband. how she said i'm upset you don't take me anywhere and he got mad at her because of course i do, you made me go to that stupid restaurant like last week and she probably said that's not what i'm saying and he said now i'm supposed to be psychic or something and she said no of course not and he said how am i supposed to know what to do when you don't even like everything and she said i do like things and he said well how am i supposed to win? and her pastor probably told her to be more grateful because they do things at all, even if she has to plan them and her mom probably told her that's just how men are honey and she probably cried over her journal, trying to figure out why the fuck she "has everything" and is still so bitterly, horribly unhappy
and how, in your life, for so many reasons, you looked down the barrel of another argument; of explaining yourself and being vulnerable and begging for help again. how many times you just said i'm fine because it was better than doing that again; it was better than wringing yourself out when it's literally easier to just pretend. because he wasn't going to listen. your father wasn't going to be better and your boyfriend wasn't going to be better and your boss wasn't going to be more respectful.
and you sit in front of a video of a woman shaking, looking horrible and guilt-wrought that she's even asking this question. and you know; deep in your heart - that's you. in a different life, you are her. you've stood in her spot. and you had to listen while someone else cackled - why would we bother to notice when you talk?
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funficwriter · 7 months
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Fontaine Characters with Violinist Reader!
A/N: This disappearing thing of mine is annoying, I'm trying to stop it. However, I finally got a bit of spare time to play Genshin and I am so, so in love with Fontaine. I think it's gonna be a wonderful arc. I haven't felt this much jubilation since Liyue or Inazuma!
Warnings; None, really.
Lyney, Lynette, Neuvillette, Navia, Furina, Wriothesley (no particular order)
Lyney
First off, this boy is no stranger to performing, an activity he loves. Naturally, he's going to be most interested in fellow performers, including you!
If you're the type to get anxious before, or even during a performance, say goodbye to that with him. He'll guide you through plenty of destressing rituals to help you relax beforehand.
(This included, but wasn't limited to; Taking deep breaths, doing tongue twisters, asking you to play meme songs on your violin, or tickling your sides because 'laughing is a great way to be loose'.)
Even during, should you freeze up and he's in the audience, he'll do a quick but loud magic trick to get everyone's eyes off you. Even one that makes him look like a fool, so long as you have time to put yourself together.
He'd LOVE to have you on stage with him! He adores your music and would ask you to sync it up with dramatic moments in his magic.
If you compose you own stuff, he's pretty much your biggest fan. The guy who never misses a concert. The loudest clapper. The biggest braggart.
"That gorgeous, graceful violinist we had the pleasure of watching? What if I told you that they're coupled up with an equally electric performer? That is, me~."
Lynette
It's easy to think that her brother outdoes her in terms of being your fan, but quietness hides a lot. If you think she doesn't care as much, you're so, so wrong.
She learned several music skills just to be closer to you, including sight-reading. BTW, she's got a killer voice and loves to sing out your compositions. Sometimes it helps you come up with alternative movements within them.
She can also play piano, to a good level of accompaniment. With time, one would think she is also a music assistant; It's not uncommon for her to be on your stage.
Lynette is VERY attentive to your instrument. Does it need rosin? A new bow, perhaps a re-hair? You just say the word, and she'll happily take it to the repair workshop if you have no time.
"By the way, Y/N prefers real horse hair, the thinnest you have. Don't worry. They're talented enough to thrive on it.".
She makes it a point to let you know how much she loves what you do: "All other music in Fontaine pales in its beauty next to yours. Please, keep playing.".
Neuvillette
You play the violin? (he crosses his legs and assumes his royal position). So when are you going to get married? Will you be okay playing a few pieces, even while being the spouse? /Half-joking, tbh.
For him to say that he is the lover of a music pioneer as important as you... Will never not be a moment of joy for him.
First off, what a sugar daddy. I hope you made a list of the expensive violins you wanted but couldn't afford. Because now, it's yours, never mind the Mora. Your very case may as well be coated with gold.
He won't die on this hill, but he would love it if you could play a bit during the parties he hosts. He loves live music to begin with, but after hearing you, it feels like no other pro could hope to sound as good as you.
(And side note, he likes how mesmerized everyone is with you lol)
If you're the type to remember your patron's personal preferences, and compose/play in accordance to that, just for him? Put hearts in his eyes. He's no longer joking about the wedding thing.
While he loves showing you off, he'll never force you if you're shy/nervous. If anything, he would also feel very special if he got to heard songs not out yet, compositions just for him...
"Perhaps this is Lady Furina's way of rewarding me for my years of service. Bless our Archon for giving me such a talented, show and heart-stopping partner.".
Navia
She likes that the Spina del Rosula is represented by passionate, talented people!
If you like sweets, I say just join her team. It's guaranteed pastries after each request lol.
Her detective work is cool, but can get a bit drab after a while. She likes asking you to play some violin ambiance, partly because it makes her feel cool, and partly because your music changes the atmosphere for much better.
Navia is a woman of decorum, but she'll often have trouble staying still during your concerts. It doesn't matter if there are rules to how loud a woman can cheer, she's happy for you and will make sure you know that.
She becomes even more proactive than usual. If a concert of yours falls on the same time as her work, she'll scour the ends of Teyvat for its solution, so she can see you.
With time, she might request you to play pieces that her father loved. Once they're brought back to life, through your own strings, she can't help but be a little emotional. She must have done something wonderful to have you.
"How beautiful, how poignant as you, my dear Y/N! This calls for macaroons! Which flavor would you like today?".
Furina
"Yes, Neuvillette, I know they perform and all, but why can't I keep them to myself! They're so darn great, I want that everyday!"
Of course, she's not gonna stop you, but beware; I feel like Furina would almost turn you into her own personal violinist lol.
She'd keep requesting your presence over her other personal entertainment and somewhat bombard you with song requests. Buuut if you're looking for a varied repertoire, she's your gal!
One reason she requests so much is because she so impressed with how you not only fulfill them all, you do it so creatively and beautifully. You don't just follow the note as it is... Once you're acquainted with what she likes, you modify the tune a bit to be more her taste.
She's so cute when she claps; The way her hands go so fast and she's about to get up from the seat, the huge eye and smile... Why, you might start reconsidering her offer.
"Bravooooo, Y/N!! Bravo! That was everything, I can't go on without an encore!"
If the tune is more happy-go-lucky, she will get up and dance along. Will also do it in circles around you because she's your little orb :3
Wriothesley
"Forgive me for intruding... But I was overhearing, and your playing is terrific. Electrifying. Do you happen to perform on Saturday nights? That's when I can leave the Fortress for a bit.".
Of all your fans, Wrio is one of the quieter ones, but not so much that no one knows it. For one, he's a Duke, he's bound to enjoy good music. And heavens knows he needs some fun in his life.
Here's a fun thing (ngl this is what I was excited to write): At first, it doesn't sound like he can make it to your recital. You see him on his desk, surrounded by paper mountains that only ever seem to grow. He doesn't want to make you sad, but his remark lets you know that he's not coming: "Would it kill some of these people to tone it down for a bit so I can go see my partner perform?".
So imagine your shock when you step on stage, and see him on the first row, sitting tall and handsome, shit-eating grin on his face and waving. You really bought it for a moment.
"Hehe... Did you really think I can't even make a bit of time to see Fontaine's best violinist in action? You actually bought that?".
I HC that he has insomnia, and has tried any things to cure it, but to no avail. It's rumored in Fontaine that his is incurable, but little do they know about how he lays down next to your sitting form. Little do they know of the soft lullabies you composed just for him, or how peacefully he dreams afterwards 💜
2K notes · View notes
addledmongoose · 4 months
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Best of 2023 Good Omens Fanfiction
This is my list of the 20 best Good Omens fanfiction works I've read in 2023.
A few notes:
These are all complete works; there are no WIPs in the list.
Please feel free to let me know if a link stops working
It's not an ordered list. That would be far too difficult.
You'll probably recognize some of the most popular ones. They're popular for a reason, after all, but I hope you find something you haven't yet read.
The majority are full-length works, but there are definitely some shorter pieces.
These are certainly not the only good works I've read, but they are the ones I'm most likely to read more than once
Click the Keep Reading to see the list
If you're the author of one of these, first off, thank you! But second, if you want me to add your tumblr name to your story, let me know, and I'll edit.
This first section, all the stories are canon-compliant or canon-adjacent. In other words, it's at least somewhat set in the Good Omens universe.
a lighthouse (burning) (108K; Rated M)
This one is canon-adjacent and set in the 19th century. Aziraphale goes to a lighthouse to figure out where all the lighthouse keepers disappeared to, and Crowley follows along. This one is a bit of a spooky mystery along with the romance, and the writing style is simply beautiful. You really get a sense of being trapped in this lighthouse in the middle of nowhere.
***
The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It (79K; Rated E)
It's honestly hard to remember that this one isn't human AU, but they're still just as angelic/demonic as ever. Aziraphale joins Grindr and starts texting (and then sexting) with a charming young man. It's no secret to the reader who this new hookup is. This story is genuinely funny at times. I like the funny ones.
***
The Whole Damned World Seemed Upside Down (103K; Rated M)
This is one of the best reverse omens stories I've read that isn't technically a reverse omens. Crowley wishes things were different after leaving the bookshop, and the universe gives him his wish. He finds himself in a world where Aziraphale hates him, Death has trouble taking lives, and basically everything you knew about the world of Good Omens is upside down. It's very funny. It uses inline footnotes (which is good, because it has a LOT of footnotes), and Death is hilarious.
***
it's a new craze (5K; Rated T)
Another one that seems like it should be human AU but isn't. Crowley and Aziraphale start up a podcast after the Notpocalypse and gain a loyal fanbase who can't figure out if they're a couple or not. They often forget who their audience is and often reference events in their shared history that make no sense to the humans listening.
***
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a demon in possession of a mobile phone, must be in want of attention (6K; Rated G)
And yes, that is the entire title. Another funny short story where a couple of podcast hosts receive a call from a certain angel whose demon trapped himself in his phone and won't leave.
***
In Mixed Company, or the Corporate Retreat of Heaven and Hell (52K; Rated M)
I've read this one at least three times, and it's probably my favorite of all. Every 300 years, Heaven and Hell share a company retreat on Earth during which angels and demons surrender their celestial powers and hold retreats. It has a great new angel friend of Aziraphale's; Hellish Powerpoint presentations; Gabriel being annoyingly chipper; and Aziraphale and Crowley sneaking around like teenagers trying to find some alone time.
***
How To Woo A Demon (24K; Rated T)
Aziraphale researches demonic courtship rituals and starts implementing them in order to convince Crowley he wants to take their relationship to the next level. Crowley is very confused by Aziraphale's actions. Another cute, funny one.
***
Factory Settings (107K; Rated T)
This one is famous for coming out practically as S2 dropped, making people think whoever wrote it (the author is anonymous) had something to do with the production of the show.
This is the only one I'm going to say anything negative about. There are a lot of spelling errors and typos in it. It needs a hard editing pass. Despite that complaint, I devoured this story as fast as I could scroll. It's that good, and even knowing all the errors are there, I'll probably still re-read it. I'm usually pretty picky about errors like that, so for me to overlook it and even recommend it, means I really liked it.
Crowley gets reinstated as the angel, Raphael, with no memory of his time as Crowley, and Aziraphale struggles to return him to his demonic self. It's heart-breaking and wonderful and I absolutely loved it.
***
One Night In Bangor (And the World's Your Oyster) (17K: Rated E)
Much like In Mixed Company, Heaven and Hell come together for a corporate retreat on Earth. In this one, some totally random demon who's name definitely doesn't rhyme with Bowley created a wager in Hell to see which demon could bed an angel first.
Another funny one. This time, a lot of the humor comes from the demons doing their best to pick up the angels with really bad pickup lines.
***
We Only Said Goodbye with Words, I Died A Hundred Times (9K; Rated E)
If I could learn to write even half as good as this, I'd be ecstatic. The emotions the author packs into this story are mind-blowing.
Crowley receives a cursed amulet that creates an ever-increasing need for the person he wants the most and goes to see Aziraphale.
***
To reveal my heart in ink (29K; Rated E)
Aziraphale starts writing letters to Crowley by mail. The letters they exchange slowly get more and more explicit.
***
Pray For Us, Icarus (66K; Rated G/T)
The author wrote this one as a series, so each one varies in chapter count and rating, but they tell a single, contiguous story.
This was the first long-form GO fanfiction I read, and it was way too close to the ending of S2. I really should've waited a while, because holy cow, is this one heartbreaking.
For three hundred years, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has spent those three hundred years trying to restore him to his true self.
The author, Atalan, is probably one of the best writers on the site. This story is stunning in the quality of its writing, in the pacing of the story, and in the emotions evoked. I normally don't like being sad (like I said, I like the funny ones), but I've saved this story off to make sure I always have it.
***
Pretend For Me (53K; Rated E)
In a panic, Aziraphale tells the archangels that he survived hellfire due to his soul mixing with Crowley's because they're in a romantic and sexual relationship, but now they want them to prove it.
I'm a sucker for fake relationship stories, and there aren't a whole lot of them where the characters are still angel/demon, but this one is. It's another fun one, though a bit more angsty than some of those I listed above.
***
The following are all human AU. Good chance you'll recognize all or most of these.
Married At First Sight (147K; Rated T)
One of the most recently completed stories in the list, this is a fake relationship story where Aziraphale and Crowley join a reality show that marries complete strangers off to each other. Their new marriage starts off on a less than idyllic foot and they decide to fake it for the show. The author is a master of making you want to scream "for fuck's sake, just talk to each other, you walnuts!"
Probably one of my favorite fake relationship stories.
***
Postcards From Paris (12K; Rated G)
The author, ghostrat (@mrghostrat), is a fantastic writer of human AU, and it's worth going through his entire backlist (and read his current WIPs, too).
Crowley moves into his Mayfair flat and starts receiving postcards addressed to the previous tenant from one A.Z.F., who is in Europe hunting for bizarre bibles and rating wine. Sweet and fluffy and the perfect antidote if you've just been on an angst binge.
***
Or Be Nice (151K; Rated E)
I stayed up until 6:30 in the morning reading this one, crashed for three hours, then read until I finished it. Then that night, I started it again.
This is, without hesitation, my all-time favorite human AU. It's funny. I love the author's version of the characters, and I will probably end up reading it again in just a few months. I probably already would have if it wasn't for the length of my Mark For Later and Subscription lists.
Crowley and Aziraphale are neighbors who get into a noise war. They both have their reasons for their actions, though to be honest, Crowley is a bit of an ass at first. Once they really start talking, though, they are absolutely wonderful together.
Even if you've never read a human AU, I recommend at least giving this one a try.
***
What We Make Of It (Shotgun Wedding) (213K; Rated E)
This is the third charlottemadison work on this list. 15% of this list is just this one author. That's how good they are.
Aziraphale works as an English teacher. Crowley is the guardian for his nephew, Adam, and works for a school testing company. Crowley can't risk his job dating his nephew's gorgeous and charming teacher. Unless...
Crowley comes up with a crazy plan. Now he just has to convince Aziraphale to go along with it.
Again, another very popular human AU. One thing I love about this story is how there's a lot less angst between the two characters, and how they both really care for Adam.
***
Slow Show (95K; Rated E)
The very first human AU I read. Didn't even think I'd like that specific genre until I read it. Now, as you can see, it's about half of my reading list.
This is an actor AU. Aziraphale (named Avery here) and Crowley are actors working together on a new show. Avery is an award-winning, straight-laced, well-respected actor; Crowley is a mess who immediately falls head-over-heels for him and somehow has to get through the show without letting his (apparently straight) costar realize that.
***
South Downs (76K; Rated E)
Another actor AU. This time, Aziraphale is an openly-gay actor, well-respected for his period drama work. Crowley is a once-blackballed actor who jumps at the chance to star in a gay Regency romance with Aziraphale in the hopes it can restart his career. The trouble is, Crowley is struggling to play the romantic lead opposite a man.
I love the growing friendship between these two as much as the romance. I love how comfortable and confident Aziraphale is here; and how caring he is toward Crowley's growing awareness of his sexuality.
***
This one doesn't really fit either category, so I'm putting it here.
The Rose and the Serpent (56K; Rated M)
By the same author as Pray For Us, Icarus comes a GO retelling of Beauty and the Beast. Aziraphale is sent off by his older brother, Gabriel, into the forest to be held hostage by a giant snake in a cursed castle. Turns out, neither the snake nor the castle are what he was expecting.
Light-hearted and with very memorable characters, the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale is simply stunning. I love how Newt and Anathema are used here. The quality of this one is as good as Icarus, and I loved this one so much I could easily have read 300K more words.
***
And bonus: mine!
The Beginning of the End (Again) (79K; Rated M)
The first fanfiction I've ever written and the first book I've written in a decade. I had the first two chapters in mind after finishing S2, and the story grew from there. I actually have a sequel in mind after I finish another, separate fake relationship story.
Crowley spends months drowning his sorrows after Aziraphale accepts the Supreme Archangel position, until a group of demons shows up one day and tells him the Second Coming is nearly upon them, and they want him to stop it. Turns out being a demon isn't much fun if there are no humans left to tempt.
Aziraphale has spent these last months in Heaven looking for ways to stop the Second Coming while mourning the way he and Crowley left things. After discovering that Hell's minions have been tasked by the Metatron to escort the son of God on a tour of Earth in preparation for his Second Coming, he hurries down to see what's going on, fearing the worst.
Instead he discovers Crowley escorting the Messiah around Earth. Is his demon taking the son of God on dates?
947 notes · View notes
jeonggukieverse · 6 months
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So I saw you were taking requests, how about writing on this idea that Jungkook is dating someone (they have been dating for a long time) who would always smile and say it's okay whenever Jk misses out on important things of y/n's life, and the boys would constantly hint that jk should give y/n more time. Jk gets super sad once she realises that he might be not making y/n happy anymore. A fluffy ending please. 💓 I hope this isn't too much ...
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Mind & Music
Pairing: Composer Jungkook x Academic Female Reader
Genre: Established relationship, Absolutely Filthy Smut, Fluff, Angsty
Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it up babes), mentions impregnation
Word count: 10k+
My first fic in ages! Feels good to be writing again~ This in not proofread because I was to excited to be uploading again hahah.
This request has been in my inbox for ages, thank you for being patient anon. Love ya 
Let me know how you guys like it 
- Ryeon <3
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He isn’t here. You half expected him not to be. 
Still, you found yourself gazing into the audience half expecting to see that specific mop of black hair. Again, disappointment pulls at your heart as you still don’t find it.  
You hear your name being called and it snapped you out of your disheartening thoughts. You stood up and walked over to the podium and began your speech. 
“Thank you all for coming out today. It’s a privilege to be presented with this award. I am honoured to be standing here in front of you as the youngest recipient of the universities achievement of the decade award. Though I would not have been able to do this without the support and guidance of- “ 
You pause for a moment as you saw familiar smiling faces staring back at you in the crowd. Yoongi and Tae beamed at you from the back of the auditorium. Even from so far away, you could still feel the smiles radiating from their faces. You mirrored their expressions and met their proud grins with one of your own as you continued your speech. Having them here almost made all of your butterflies flutter away. Almost. Cause only the presence of one person could have caused them to disappear completely. 
After the ceremony was over, you rushed out to find your friends. You spotted them stood by the food table munching on some snacks. Your eyes locked with Tae’s first as you ran towards both men and rugby tackled them both into a giant bear hug. 
“Y/N-ah! Please, be careful! You could have knocked over my cucumber sandwich” You rolled your eyes at Taehyung ‘smocking tone. 
“Cucumber? That’s a little bland for you Kim Taehyung”
“First of all, don’t use my government name in public and second of all, it’s the best option this place has to offer. I mean, I get it, it’s Yonsei’s international focused program so it’s going to cater to foreigners but babe, you are in Korea! Where are the spices? Where is the flavour? Where is the taste?” He ranted while wiggling the pale looking sandwich in his hand. You giggled but you couldn’t deny he was wrong. 
“Hey! As a foreigner, I do not claim this cuisine” You retorted. 
“If you say so” Tae rolled his eyes. 
You shook your head at him then turned your attention to the quiet figure next to you. 
Yoongi smiled and held his hand towards you. 
“The youngest recipient of the achievement of the decade award, huh? Very impressive” 
Coming from anyone else, that sentence would have come out as painfully sarcastic but you knew coming from yoongi, it was the highest compliment he could have bestowed on a human being. You completely ignored his attempt at a hand shake and pulled him into a tight hug instead that he gladly accepted. 
Yoongi was the first friend you had made in Korea. You had met on a language exchange app. He was the only guy you had spoken to that hadn’t asked to go ‘eat ramen’ with you, go ‘see his cat’ or ask you to join a cult. But still you carried pepper spray in your bag when you agreed to meet him at the coffee shop because stranger danger is still a thing. It turns out you didn’t need it cause Yoongi was the sweetest guy you had ever met. Blunt as hell but lovely still. You recalled fondly that upon your first meeting that he had told you that your Korean pronunciation was like an elementary school kid. Did it sting? Absolutely. Was it the last time he would say something like that? Absolutely not. But he made sure you improved and got better. He decided midway through your friendship that learning English was ‘too troublesome’ for him. He had made up his mind that listening to you speak English occasionally was the best way to learn…Sure yoongs. 
It was actually Yoongi that introduced you to your boyfriend. Speaking of 
“So where is he?” 
Yoongi’s smile dropped slightly as he absorbed your change in mood. 
“He’s in the studio with Joon. They’re still working on finalising the soundtrack.” 
You forced a smile on your face, sensing the awkwardness in his voice. 
“Ah, its okay! He’s working, I’m happy he at least has a good excuse! If he was at home playing overwatch or something, I would have been super mad” you said hoping your joking tone would mask your disappointment. 
Taehyung chuckled but you know Yoongi could read you like a book. He knew how you really felt. 
“Let’s go! The rest of the guys said they’d be at the bar, right? I want to show them how cute I look in all my graduation gear. Seokjin is going to die of jealousy cause there is no way in hell he looked this good on his graduation” 
“He’s gonna murder you for even insinuating that” Tae gasped in feigned shock. 
“I’d like to see him try” you sang as you skipped in the middle of the two men. You hooked both of your arms in theirs and pulled them towards the exit. 
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“There she is!” 
This was the first thing you heard before you were met with a flurry of applause and cheers as you stepped into the bar. 
You saw the gang sat at your regular booths now decorated with pink and white balloons and confetti. The table adorned with gifts and ‘congratulations banners’. Jimin, Seokjin, Hobi and Jennie stood there holding bottles of champaign. You felt your eyes start to well up, completely touched by the kind gesture. 
“Aww you guys” you spoke, voice wavering. 
“Ha! Pay up Seokjin, I told you Y/N would start crying before she even sat down! Thanks Y/N, you just won me 50000 won” Jennie exclaimed.
“No! Technically, she hasn’t cried! No tears have fallen from her eyes. C’mon Y/N keep it together” Jin begged.
“Sorry Jin, I gotta get my girl her money” You replied, blinking hard so the tears would run down your cheeks.
The group erupted in laughter as Soekjin took out his wallet. 
“That’s enough you two. Tonight, is about Y/N. Congratulations sweetheart.” Jimin said as he pulled you into a hug. You accepted his embrace but you found yourself looking over his shoulder to see if your boyfriend was amongst the crowd. He wasn’t. 
“Yeah, it’s about me! And my goal is to be as drunk as possible by the end of the night!” you proclaimed earning you more cheers from the group. Hopefully if you’re drunk, this feeling of disappointment will eventually go away. 
And it does. After 4 shots of soju, 2 vodka lemonades and a weird cocktail concoction Jimin force fed you, you were feeling better than ever. You were on the dance floor with Jennie having the time of your life. That was until you felt arms wrap around your waist. 
Oh hell no. 
You spun yourself around ready to fight whoever in the hell thought they could touch you unprovoked. Before you could administer your first blow, you were met with a pair of beautifully familiar brown eyes. 
There he was. Jeon Jungkook. 
Your fighting stance shifted as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck to envelop him in a warm hold. You inhaled his scent as he began to lovingly plant soft kisses in the crook of your neck. You felt a familiar fire start to burn at the pit of your stomach. His innocent gesture in your drunken state was igniting a reaction in you that you were eager to explore. 
“I’m sorry baby” he whispered in your ear. 
And just like that, the feeling was gone. At those three words your vagina dried up quicker than the Sahara Desert. Cause as quickly as you had forgotten, you were reminded once again that he had let you down again. But could you be mad? He was working. This had been his dream since he was a little kid and they were so close to finalising this project, they just needed to finish to complete some final composition. Could you be mad at him? You decide once again, that you couldn’t. Once again, you put his needs before yours. You pulled away from his shoulder and met his face. You plastered a fake smile on and put on another show. 
“Baby, don’t be silly! Don’t worry about it, you’re here now, that’s all that matters.” 
“Thank you, baby. I’ll make it up to you” 
“I know you will” 
And he did. 
The next day, Jungkook took you out to a beautiful dinner to celebrate your achievement. You loved him and you appreciated the gesture, you always did. But you couldn’t help still feeling hurt. 
You supported Jungkook, you always had and you always would. 
It’s funny to think about how devoted you were to him considering how rocky your fist interaction was.
Jungkook was Yoongi’s roommate. You and yoongi had been friends now for about four months before he finally decided to invite you over to his apartment. You had to say, this made you very nervous because Yoongi had always been such a private guy. You knew enough about him to say that you were friends but he always kept himself to himself. This was a part of him that was refreshing to you, really. He was excellent at establishing boundaries. You’ve never had a friend like that before. He was very mature but also very kind and very sweet. So, when he invited you over to game night with his friends you were ecstatic. It’s finally felt like he let you in and that you became real friends. 
And as excited as you were, you were equally nervous. Yoongi had told you bits and pieces about his friends but he assured you they were all really nice. 
You were still on edge but you assured yourself that you were a pleasant person! You had come out of your shell so much in the last couple of months. Your introverted personality had been spun on its head and you were now someone completely different. The constant support from Yoongi and your advancements in your career had made you feel absolutely unstoppable. 
And isn’t it amazing? How months of character development can be wiped away in 2 seconds. 
As soon as you walked into Yoongi’s apartment, you wished you could walk right back out because the second your eyes met with Jeon Jungkook it was very apparent, he did not like you. Like, at all. 
The boy, who had previously been laughing and talking to his friend, made eye contact with you and completely shut down. The smile fell from his face and his body suddenly became stiff and rigid. He looked at you for a millisecond before tearing away eye contact completely. 
You tried to ignore him. You really did because the rest of Yoongi’s friends were so cool. They made you feel welcome and you felt almost at ease. But still, your consciousness couldn’t help but wonder over to the pale, inked up boy stood in the kitchen dressed in an oversized t-shirt and ripped black denim. 
As much as you tried to ignore it, his coldness didn’t alleviate through the night as you’d hoped. In fact, not only did it not get better; it got worse as the night went on. As everyone kept drinking more and more you felt yourself become a little bolder. What was this guys problem? You haven’t done anything to him, he had no reason to be this hostile to you.
You raised this with Namjoon, another one of Yoongi’s roommates, who assured you that Jungkook was always a little weary of strangers. He was a shy person that had great difficulty adjusting to new people. His advice was to give him time to warm up to you and when you felt ready, try and start a casual conversation. 
But it wasn’t as if you hadn’t tried that. You’d made several attempts through the night to try and speak to him to at least extend the olive branch but each time he refused running away from you as if you had some kind of disease. You were sick of it.
You saw him alone on the balcony a few hours later and realised that this was your chance. You marched up to the doors and slipped out to give this guy a piece of your mind. Hearing the noise behind him Jungkook turned his head to be met with you. Again, panic started to run through his body as he tried to make an escape around you but you would not let him. 
“What is your problem?! What did I do to you why are you so weird towards me? I know Yoongi and Namjoon said that you are very selective with your friends and that’s cool but I don’t know what I did to make you dislike me so much. Fucking hell, we just met today! What could I possibly have done that hurt your feelings so much?!” You yelled at him. Your words slightly slurred. Liquid courage was really on your side tonight cause there was no way in hell sober Y/N could yell at him like this. Especially hear on the balcony, his beautiful face illuminated by the moonlight. And the way the evening breeze ruffled through his dark locks made him look like an actual prince.  
“Woah, where did you get the impression that I didn’t like you?”
Huh?! 
His almost idiotic question quickly snapped you out of your thoughts. Was he being serious right now? Or is he just making fun of you?
“Are you kidding me? You haven’t looked at me the entire night, you haven’t introduced yourself and every time I come over to you to try and get some kind of conversation going you run off. Now tell me why are you doing all of that and not speaking to me like a normal human being !?”
“Because I think you’re pretty! And I’m intimidated by you!”
Eh? 
You remained silent for what felt like forever. Did he really just say that or did you just imagine it? No, there is no way he woul- 
“Jesus Christ, say something! Anything!” He huffed. Now putting the half empty beer bottle to his lips to stop his mouth from humiliating him even further. 
Well, Jungkook thought, if he’s going to humiliate himself may as well fully go for it. 
“You think Yoongi hasn’t told us about you? He’s told us how incredible you are. About how you’re a transfer student at the most prestigious college in Korea. About how you’re on track to be the recipient for the ‘biggest brain ever in the whole century award’ or whatever its called. He made you sound so cool; I was banking on you at least being a little bit of an asshole but again, Yoongi’s stories proved us wrong. He told us about how you willing let a random little girl sit next to you for 2 hours at a café because she wanted to practice speaking to you to improve her English. And if im being honest, the more I heard the more I wanted to meet you but when you came in today, looking as fucking beautiful as you do. Which Yoongi coincidentally forgot to mention which is funny cause he mentioned every- fucking -thing else. When you came in…”
He paused and let out a sigh. Breathing for what seemed like the first time since beginning his outburst. 
“…When you came in, I realised how far away from me you were. And I dint have any business even speaking to you. We wouldn’t have anything in common and it would make me realise how inadequate I actually am”.
There was a pause again. Slowly, you began to let out a small giggle. Your small giggle quickly erupted into a full-bodied belly laugh. Your stomach began to hurt and your eyes began to water. You had to lean on the balcony door for support as you surely felt you would pass out. 
During your breakdown, Jungkook could only stare at you his head tilted to the side like a confused bunny. His eyes fell to the floor as your laughter pierced him like a knife and was the cherry on top of his mortification. 
“And you think Yoongi hasn’t told me about you, Jeon Jungkook?” You asked as your laughter subsided. 
“Jeon Jungkook, the musical prodigy. The Jeon Jungkook that could play the piano before he could even walk. The Jeon Jungkook that everyone refers to as the Golden Maknae because you’re so good at everything. Your friends are very vocal about not just your talents in your field but also socially. Apparently, you’re the reason you guys even exist as a friend group. You were the one to make friends with each of them and bring them all together. Do you know how impressive that is?! But I’m intimidating cause I’m a little smart and I’m not mean to children? You are something else Jeon Jungkook.” 
Jungkook paused again. A chuckle escaped his mouth as his laughter then began to mimic yours. You joined him again as both of you stood on the balcony laughing with or at each other. You must have looked like maniacs but at the time both of you were too buzzed to care. 
Either way, this broke the ice between both of you as you were both able to bypass each other’s extensive achievements and finally got to know each other as people.
You’ll never forget that night. You and Jungkook sat on that balcony from 10pm to 7am, long after the others had left or gone to bed. Just talking about anything and everything until you both reached a comfortable silence.
And as the sun was rising, welcoming a brand-new morning you nudged Jungkook’s hand. His head lazily turned towards yours and he met you with a dimpled smile. 
“For what it’s worth” You smiled back. 
“I think you’re pretty and I’m intimidated by you too” 
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That was 5 years ago and you and balcony boy have been inseparable ever since. You had now been there for every single important moment in each other’s life. Well…Almost.
3 years ago, Jungkook and Namjoon got the opportunity to produce a music score for a short film. Despite the films small budget, it managed to exceed all expectations and ended up getting nominated for a golden globe! You were ecstatic and so fucking proud of him. You felt like his talents and hard work were finally getting realised.
Little did you know it would be a bittersweet moment for yours and Jungkook’s relationship. Naturally as more eyes were on the film, more ears were listening to the soundtrack. This had your boyfriend pulled off to here there and everywhere in front of directors and movie studios all interested in investing in the musical duo. And finally they had been hired to compose an entire score to a new movie for a huge studio! This movie in particular, Jungkook had begged and pleaded for. He said the scrip and film premise really spoke to him and were perfect and he needed to compose this movie. This was such a huge deal for them and again you were over the moon. But there were downsides. During the first year after their debut you saw Jungkook 10 times that whole year. You spoke almost every day but almost every conversation ended in an argument. It was either and argument about you feeling neglected or him not feeling supported and it sucked. It really took a toll on both of you. 
The second year was much better. This time for a bit more of a selfish reason. The film studio had its own recording studio in Seoul only a 20-minute walk from yours and Jungkook’s apartment! He was finally able to be home more and you could actually spend time together. And so you did. 
Honestly, the first 6 months Jungkook was back home all you guys did was fuck. It was constant and almost none stop. You fucked in every room of the house at all hours of the day. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other. 
There was a day you both decided to take a break from having sex and just play some video games together. It took you both all of 5 minutes before sonic was long forgotten about and you were bent over the sofa. 
It was very romantic really. But even that joy was short lived. 
Jungkook prioritised his art. That was one thing you’d always respected and admired about him. Even the way he talked about music that wasn’t his, he painted the emotions of the music into words to explain to you the way a piece made him feel. He could describe to you in detail the way the crescendos bend in the moments before it’s about to fall. About how the vibrations of the violins is the most romantic sound ever to grace the human consciousness. He was an artist through and through. His music was him and he was his music. They were one and could not be separated. But that raised a question for you:
Where did you fit in? 
This is what made the dinner you were on now very melancholic. It was to make up for him missing your award acceptance. 
He was sorry. You knew he was but you couldn’t ignore that this was your forth make up dinner this year: First was your birthday, second was your anniversary, third was dinner with your parents (that they had specifically flown out to Korea for) and the forth was the award. The award he knew you were on track to get before he’d even met you. The award you’d poured your heart into getting and the one you’d sacrificed so much for. But he was sorry, right? Plus, he had promised to make it up to you. Next week your professor had invited you to the university to give a special lecture to other projected recipients of the award you’d just achieved. It was a high honour as these students were the best and the brightest students from countries all over the world and of all the recipients to give the lecture, they had requested you! There have been recipients before you that had gone on to win Nobel Peace Prizes but they had specifically requested you. And Jungkook was so proud of you.
“Are you okay, little mouse? You seem a little quiet tonight”. Jungkook asked, genuine concern apparent on his face. 
“I’m just thinking bunny boy.”
“About me?” He winked at you, almost cartoonishly. 
“Bunny boy, how can you cross my mind if you never leave it” you winked back at him with the same playfully cartoonish obnoxiousness. 
“Ooh that’s going on my list” 
For the past 5 years of your relationship Jungkook has been keeping a list of things you say to him that makes him smile. This list has always confused you cause it would always be the silliest stuff. Once, when he was sleeping, you went and snooped through his notes app just to see this list and you couldn’t believe it. You were expecting the most romantic phrases or compliments that fluffed his ego but instead, the top three (out of four thousand!) were:
“I’d fight a microwave for you”
“You smell like home” 
“I think you’re pretty and I’m intimidated by you too” 
You woke him up immediately to ask about it. But his only defence was they were phrases you said that make him smile. You’re understanding of his list was ‘irrelevant’ to him. 
God, you loved him. 
“You’re so silly. But seriously Kookie; don’t worry, I’m good. Plus, you’re the one who’s been talking my ear off all night. I’m surprised you’ve even noticed me being quite” You quipped playfully, taking a sip of your wine. 
“Ooh, someone’s feisty tonight. I forgot what red wine does to you” He quipped back; eyebrows now raised highlighting the metal bar that accented it. 
God, he was cool.
“How could you forget? The first time we met I was wine drunk” 
“Ah yes, how could I forget. You get very mouthy off of red wine. Don’t worry, I know how I can put that mouth to good use” 
“Jeon Jungkook!” You yelled at him in a whisper.  Eyes darting around to see if anyone had heard your boyfriends lewd comment. Luck for you the other couples around you’re were too infatuated with their partners to even notice you guys. 
“Well, while were in pubic, put that mouth to better use and tell me about your day” he said, now leaning back in his chair. 
“Well, my day was pretty calm actually. It makes a change. I was walking Ban and bumped into Holly and Yoongi. We were talking about next week and he asked if he could bring a plus one. Wink, wink” 
“A plus one! Is Yoongi dating?! In the 12 years I’ve known the guy he has never shown romantic interest in anyone. I can’t even imagine his type. Did he give you any information”?! 
“Nah, you know how he is. Yoongi will only let you know what he wants you to know” 
“True. What’s going on next week?” 
You paused for a second and started chuckling. He was kidding. He had to be. 
The smile then fell from your face when he didn’t share in your laughter. 
“Oh my god you’re serious? You forgot about my lecture”?!
He gasped and began coughing as the bite of steak he had just put into his mouth had just gone down the wrong pipe.
“Of course not baby, how could I forget something so important to you” he continued to splutter. 
You stared back at him. The good mood you had felt a moment ago had completely evaporated. You waited for him to gain his composure so he could explain himself cause boy he had some explaining to do. 
“Just for giggles and fun and jokes, what date is your lecture again?” 
“The fifteenth” you said, shortly. 
His face fell and his eyes stayed stuck on his plate.
“Baby…Please don’t hate me. That’s the night we have the final run through of the soundtrack with the director. I can’t miss that…I’m so s- “
“You’re so sorry. Im sure you are.” You stood up. 
You grabbed your purse and you stormed out away from him. You could hear him calling your name but the burn of your throat as you fought back the tears overpowered his calls. 
How could he? No, how could you? How could you ever expect anything different. You will always be second to his first love and that was a pain you had to learn to live with. 
The moment you left the restaurant and the cold air of the night hit your face you decided to just let the tears fall. You sobbed as you walked further and further away from him. 
You heard the rhythmic pounding of laced up docks hitting the pavement behind you. 
“Y/N please I’m sorry. Just let me explain…”
“No! There is nothing you could say that would fix this! I have always been there for you! I have supported you from the very beginning! Every piece of music you have ever played for me I have cherished as if it were my own and you used to support me too! At my first presentation you were there. Cheering at the top of your lungs in a silent room. You used to be my number one cheerleader but now when all I ask of you, is to just show up? You can’t do it. And every chance I give you to fix it. You let me down. Jungkook, I need some time away from you. I’m going to be staying with Yoongi for a few days”. 
You said nothing more. You spun around and walked the 2 minutes to Yoongi’s apartment. And true to your word you stayed with them till the day before your lecture. 
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Despite being a creative Jungkook worked like clockwork. Every single day at the same 3 times a day Jungkook would try to call you. The call was always followed by an ‘I love you’ text but today was different. After the second call of the day the text that followed said:
“I know this is such a fucking reach and such a huge ask but would you mind swinging around our apartment today at around 3? Director Anderson would like to speak to you. I know you probably still need your space so I’ll be in the apartment but I’ll be in the bedroom. I’ll come out only when you’ve left, I promise. Please come” 
He really had some fucking nerve. That ‘please come’ at the end of his text almost sent your blood boiling. 
“You should talk to him,” said a familiar voice. 
Your turned your whole body around on the sofa so Yoongi could see your eyes roll at his suggestion. 
“Yoongs, I feel like it shouldn’t be me your having this conversation with. You should try telling him not to break commitments to people” 
“Oh I have! That’s why I’m telling you, you need to speak to him. I know it’s none of my business but I think you guys just need to talk it out. And even if you don’t have anything to say, at least hear the boy out” he finalised before turning on his heels and heading back into his room. 
That wasn’t the speech you were expecting but it did calm you down enough to re-read Jungkook’s text. Your boiling rage had now been replaced with intrigue and curiosity. The meeting was requested by the director of the film? This was very unusual. You had heard about the director in passing but you had never spoken directly before. But you had decided that you were going to go. You we determined to look the man who practically stole your boyfriend for years in the face and lecture him about respecting his colleagues work/life balance! Plus it will be good practice for your lecture tomorrow. Two birds, one stone. 
It would be an absolute lie to say that you weren’t missing Jungkook. You knew the apartment would smell like him and you hoped you may be able to swipe one of his t-shirts to sleep in before you leave. 
You ubered over to your apartment and stood before the oak front door feeling oddly nervous. To took a shaky breath and inserted the passcode: 5318008 (you and Jungkook were children at heart cause you both laughed for hours after agreeing upon the code).
Upon hearing the beeping of the lock to confirm the door was unlocked you pushed it open. You stepped in, removed your shoes and couldn’t help the solemn smile that crept onto your face. Jungkook’s scent hit you as soon as you entered the room. 
God, you missed him. 
You strode inside and were met with a recognisable figure sitting upright on your sofa. His back stood tall and his hair was a mousy brown colour. It was so bizarre seeing him here. There was an uncanny feeling, seeing this man you knew but had never met sat in your living room.
He must have felt you staring at him because his head soon whipped around. 
“Y/N. So nice to finally meet you.” He stood up and walked over to you shoving his hand out towards you. You shook it hesitantly. His hands were cold and clammy but his eyes were warm. He was tall and chubby but he wasn’t foreboding, in fact he seemed rather friendly Damnit. You wanted him to be an asshole, it would have made telling him what was on your mind so much easier. 
“It’s nice to meet you too, Mr Anderson” you said as coldly as you could muster. 
“Mr Anderson is so formal, just call me James. Although its strange. We’re meeting for the first time but it feels as if I have already met you” His German accent becoming more apparent as he spoke. 
“And why is that?”
“Ah, that is why I asked Jungkook to invite you over. Although it does feel strange extending you an invitation to your home” he chuckled to himself. 
He invited you to sit down on the couch, it was only then that you noticed a laptop connected to your TV. 
“What’s all this?” you asked. Genuinely curious. 
“I have a little something for you to watch. It may make explaining why I asked you hear a little more apparent. Please, have a seat my dear” he guided you to the sofa as you plopped yourself down. Eyes glued to the screen. 
You anticipated what would happen next when a familiar tune began to play. You knew it was Jungkook’s composition as soon as you heard it. Suddenly an animated mouse popped up on the screen. She was in the wings of a stage, obviously nervous but she strolled out into the spotlight in front of a stoic audience of other animals. Just as she was about to speak there was suddenly a loud whooping from the crowd that interrupted the slow score. It was a bunny. A bunny with banners and whistles and confetti and he was cheering for her. The others in the audience told him to be quite but he exclaimed ‘That’s my girlfriend’ still as proud as can be. 
The trailer played on and you slowly started to get it. It was you. This little mouse was you. Tears welled up in your eyes as yours and Jungkook’s entire relationship began to play in front of you. All your highs and your lows. It was beautiful and the accompaniment of his music made the tears pour from your eyes until it was over. 
You turned back to James and attempted to speak but only blubbers could come out. 
“Let me explain Y/N. When Jungkook and Namjoon came out to LA to play some stuff for the studio the only thing the boy would speak about, other than music, was you my dear. Jungkook and I sat for hours speaking about you. He told these elaborate stories about how you met, who you are and about the adventures you got into together. It was indeed very fascinating to me, you almost seemed like a heroine in his very own story. He bragged about your achievements almost as if they were his own. According to him, you are the smartest woman on the planet my dear and he would not be told otherwise. Oh, congratulations on the achievement of the decade award! And the youngest recipient at that? Incredible work my dear, just incredible. Jungkook went into great detail about what a huge deal that was. Needless to say the day after the networking event I went home and began writing the script for ‘Mouse & Bunny – Mind & Music’. I had just never seen someone so passionate about another person. His passion for you far outweighs his passion for his craft, that much was apparent, it was awe inspiring and I had to bring It to the screen. I think that is why Jungkook fought so hard to be the lead composer for the soundtrack. He wanted to intertwine the two loves of his life”. 
You sat there in complete shock for a moment before jumping into James’s arms and engulfed him into a hug. His moustache tickled your shoulder as he chuckled and said he was happy to have cleared things up. As he packed up his laptop, he was asking you so many questions, probably attempting to confirm the validity of Jungkook’s stories: 
“Did you really fight a microwave” 
“I most certainly did” 
“Did you really use protein powder as flour for a cake?” 
“I most certainly did” 
“Did you really not know the earth went around the sun?” 
“That son of a-… no comment” 
He snorted as he packed up the last of his things. You walked him to the door but he turned to you before saying his final goodbyes. 
“Y/N, it seems wrong for me to give the final approval for the soundtrack. I’ve heard it and I know it’s the most beautiful accompaniment to the film but it seems only fitting that the muse gets to give the final say so. Take the afternoon to listen to it and pass your notes to Jungkook. If you like it, I’ll approve it. So there should be no need for my originally planned final listen tomorrow. Jungkook seemed like he wanted to attend something much more important tomorrow anyway” He winked at you as he closed your door. 
You didn’t even wait for the door to fully shut before you were sprinting to your shared bedroom.
The pitter patter of your bare feet slapping the wood floor could almost not be heard over the beating of your heart. You bust open the door to see the love of your live leaning over his piano. 
You must have given him such a fright as his big boba eyes were the first to greet you. 
“Y/N I-“
You crashed your lips onto his, completely cutting him off. 
“I am the stupidest person in the world.” 
Jungkook laughs, standing up beside you. 
“No little mouse, why do you say that” he said with a soft smile while he caressed your tear-stained face. 
“I don’t know why I didn’t just ask! I’m so- “
“Even if you asked, I probably wouldn’t have told you. I wanted things to be a surprise. But baby, first I needed to apologise, like really apologise” 
“You have nothing to be sorry for” 
“Yes, I do. Ever since I met you, you brought light into my world. I wanted to express to you my love in the best way I knew how and this project, to me, was the best way for me to put into the world how I felt about you. But I was selfish, I took my expression of love and put it above all the things I knew you had work so hard to achieve. In a way, I put my love above yours and I will forever be sorry and I can assure you, it won’t happen again. I love you Y/N L/N” 
You reward his confession with another kiss, pulling him into your arms soon after. 
you sighed, almost longingly. “Whatever shall I do with my bunny boy?” 
“Whatever shall I do with my little mouse?” Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear, drawing soothing circles on your hip. 
He gently placed you down against your mattress. You clung to him and giggled  
You stay quiet, appreciating the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. 
God, he smelled good. 
“Okay,” he purrs, caressing your hip as he repositioned himself more securely. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh? A week away? It felt more like a lifetime” You nodded in response. Terrified that if you spoke, your voice would fail you.
Jungkook shifted, the hand that was previously on your hip swiftly fell over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my smart girl?” he hums as his hand slipped between your thighs. “My smart, pretty, intimidating girl?” 
Your eyes flutter closed and you revel in the feeling of him running his fingers over the front of your panties. Your toes curl at the sudden pressure.
“Ah,” you hissed.
“Hmm?” he says, mouthing against the crook of your neck. His mouth feels so warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “My smart girl doesn’t have anything smart to say?” 
“N-No,” you tried to scoff back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands were getting braver now as he slipped his hand beneath your waistband, and touched your wet heat head on. “Baby.”
Jungkook chuckled at your immediate submission for his touch and took the opportunity to connect his mouth back you yours. You whimpered in surprise, legs trembling as he gets to work circling your hardening bud. Your thighs are squirming, clenching around his hand every few moments. 
You bit down a whine. “I was just…” you trailed off as he teased his index and middle fingers against your opening. 
“Just what baby? Just thinking?” he said as he finally pushed himself off of you and propped himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze became a familiar dark. He moved at a godlike speed as he snatched his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs. 
Jungkook pulled away from you and rolled his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins pulling off his shirt. You had to stop yourself from drooling at the sight of him. 
He threw his shirt off to the side of the bed, his sleeve of tattoos that wrapped around his bicep and crawled down his chest were wonderfully free now. “My eyes are up here, little mouse” he said and your eyes immediately shot back up to meet his gaze. He leaned towards you, muscled arms coming to cage you in against the headboard. 
“No one is looking at your eyes bunny boy” you attempted to quip back. Completely failing to mask the tremor in your voice. Jungkook always had a way of making you feel powerless under his gaze when he was on top of you like this. 
His hand grabbed beneath your knee and yanked you unforgivingly until you were slumped down onto your back with a squeak. You settled with his knee pressed directly against your core. Jungkook stayed towering over you. 
He placed his hand gently around the base of your neck as he leaned in to properly grind his thigh into you. “Is that right? No one’s looking at my eyes, huh?” he murmured darkly, thumb pressing a little harder into the side of your neck. You sobbed, soaked panties rubbing roughly against his leg. 
“Are you gonna touch me?” you interrupted, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook pursed his lips together in thought. 
“Hmmm,” he hummed. “Not too sure yet.”
You whined. “Jungkook, please,” you whimpered, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”
Jungkook chuckled, running his hand up your waist and taking your dress with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouthed at your neck. “Cute,” he cooed. “Can’t do it yourself?”
You trembled, chest heaving into him as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gulped. “You just do it better.” Jungkook followed your admission with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”
You mewled in response, determined not to give him the satisfaction of answering his question. Cause you both new the answer was yes. He made you cum so much better than you could.
“Remove your clothes for me...” he whispered gruffly yet sweet as he pulled himself from you. 
You hurriedly removed the rest of your clothes you caught Jungkook’s mouth falling open in awe at the semi-nude sight of you before him. After finally removing your bra and panties, you threw them to the floor with the rest of your clothes, you observed how he licked his lips shamelessly as he took in the view of your beautifully perky nipples that drove him absolutely insane. You looked into his deep eyes, catching your bottom lip in between your teeth and Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from palming his cock over the confinements of his pants – watching you get worked up just for him. 
“Are we that type of couple, Jungkook?” you whispered his name sweetly as you slowly climb on top of him. You straddled him, pushing your breasts flush against his chest.
“Which type are you referring to?” he murmured back as his hand moved back to between your thighs – feeling the damp patch of your essence now overflowing. You felt his cock pulsate in anticipation.
“The ones who have an argument, then have angry make up sex?” you giggled as you began pressing soft, delicate kisses along his neck. Jungkook’s eyes shut tightly as he felt your teeth nip at him – causing a breath of air to leave his lungs while you began sucking on his skin – leaving your mark on him. The next thing you knew, Jungkook pulled your mouth away from his neck and flipped you over. He was now hovering over you and began continuing on you what you had started on him
“Jungkook...” you let his name occupy your mouth and your thoughts as he suckled on your skin – alternating between kissing you, biting you and dragging his teeth further south to your boobs.
“Let us see how much of a good girl you can be for me...” you suddenly felt his breath dangerously close to the mound between your legs, before his hands began kneading and gripping at your ass-cheeks. Jungkook moved his face right into you – just shy of his nose touching your folds from behind as he took in your sweet scent. He wanted to devour you whole – but at the same time, he wanted nothing more than to hear you beg and plead for your own pleasure and release. You trembled at the contact of his index finger running along your slippery lips, feeling it hastily stroke your bud before he pulled it back down again – repeating the same action over and over.
 Jungkook smirked at the noises coming from you; whimpers of frustration, want and need. He knew you were like putty in his hands with the way your lewd wetness heavily coated his finger; and he would have wanted it no other way.
“Please Jungkook...please stop teasing me – I need you so fucking badly I – “you rolled your head to the opposite side – placing your blazing cheek against the pillow in an attempt to extinguish the apparent fire that was burning your entire face. You knew he was making you wait for it – and you both simultaneously loved and hated it in a hundred different ways. 
You breathed a sigh of relief, along with moans of satisfaction as his tongue continued to explore every inch of you. The scandalous sounds from his tongue and his lips filled the room as he continued to consume you. 
“I’m so close Jungkook – fuck...” you moaned a string of further curses as he sped up his movements – his finger now wiggling heavily over your clit as his tongue probed you even deeper than before.
“Are you really?” he hummed, slowing his pace as you whined in response. “Hmm...I can’t have you coming undone on me just yet little mouse...where’s the fun in that? Plus, I had to wait a whole week for you to come back. Do you think I would let you cum so quickly?” he grinned coyly as he moved away from you – licking the remainder of you off his lips as you damn near cried out in anger at being denied your orgasm when it was seconds away.
God, he’s such an asshole. 
“You can cry and whine all you want...but you’re not getting anything unless I think you deserve it; do you understand me, baby?” he cooed with the heaviest form of sarcasm you had ever heard as he began coating his erection with your wetness – giving himself a few strokes as he smirked and watched you squirm in defeat underneath him. You rolled your eyes to the back of your head, before turning onto your stomach as fast as you could to avoid his arrogant gaze. 
As you laid faced away from him, all you could feel was the thick width of his cock resting between your cheeks as Jungkook took it upon himself to slowly grind himself into you – giving him the minimal amount of pleasure and you the maximum amount of excruciating frustration.
“Yes! I understand...please...I’ll do anything, please!” you shamelessly pleaded – hearing the desperation in your own voice as you moved your ass backwards into him. Jungkook chuckled before he began sprinkling light kisses the whole way up your spine – the fleeting feeling of his lips leaving damp patches on your skin being enough to make it feel like he was burning you with desire for more of him.
“Good girl” Jungkook praised you – letting you feel the tip of his cock resting just on top your drenched entrance. And – without warning, he quickly eased himself in as far as he could go; hearing you let out breathy moans and whimpers as he pressed deeper.  
“Louder” he commanded as he leaned back – looking down to view his member leave your tight walls – much to both of your displeasures. “I want the entire world to know who’s fucking your pussy like this right now” he slammed back inside you, feeling your slickness engulf him as your screams filled the room. 
“That’s it Y/N, that’s my good girl” Jungook growled as he began pounding you into you at an unforgiving pace. You cried and sobbed feeling his cock reach deeper inside you with each time his skin smacked against yours. Jungkook relished in the look of your ass every time it bounced off his lower abdomen as he continued pummelling into you mercilessly – when he saw your hand reach back to try and hold his. Knowing that you needed to feel the security of his grasp, Jungkook leaned over your back and laced his fingers with yours – giving you fast, deep strokes of his cock while you felt it slam against your precious nerves inside you. Jungkook knew you were already on the verge of letting go from the way your voice got louder and higher – along with your walls constricting around his member so tightly that he had to almost hold his breath to not finish before you.
“Cum for me – you earned it sweetheart, let go and let me hear your beautiful voice” he cooed into your ear. And, like his words were the only thing that could set you free, you came hard around him while you closed your eyes tight as you felt your orgasm pour out of you. Jungkook coaxed you through your cries of ecstasy as he slowed his thrusts down – still keeping their depth while his groans harmonised with your own voice in the wake of your pleasure. And, just as quickly as it came, your high left your body – leaving you slumped face down into the pillow with no will to do much else other than breathe. You felt Jungkook slowly slide out of you – feeling the emptiness he left behind while he began pulling you up and back into his chest, his hands then roaming over every inch of your skin he could find.
“Did that feel good, baby?” he purred, nibbling on the bottom of your ear and letting you know that he was still standing to attention with the way his member pressed into your ass. You let out an airy chuckle, still not able to maintain a coherent train of thought.
“Mmhm” you hummed, reaching behind you to let your hand rest on the back of his neck, letting your fingers get lost in his hair as Jungkook dotted your neck with kisses once more.
“I can’t get enough of you – no matter how much you give me, no matter how much I take...” he murmured on top of your skin, making you shiver from head to toe and smile from ear to ear.
“What are you waiting for then, bunny boy?” you replied, turning around to him and coming face to face with his dark hooded eyes. “I want you to take more...take me, Jungkook” you mewled as Jungkook’s hands began caressing all his favourite parts of you – your hips and the tops of your thighs included. 
You swapped positions and you positioned yourself on top him. As you did, Jungkook quickly pulled his legs underneath your bottom before crossing them below you, while you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist so that you were both in a sort of Lotus Flower position. You looked down, seeing his head perfectly level with your tits as he began kissing and nipping at your hardened nipples – making you reel from the sensitive sensation that coursed through you. You observed his hand as it slipped underneath you – grabbing a hold of his pulsating member and angling it right before your welcoming entrance once again.
“Baby...aren’t you forgetting something?” you questioned immediately in reference to the fact that he was about to enter you whilst you both found yourself in the most romantic baby-making position known to man. Jungkook shook his head as he looked up into your eyes, his stare completely melting you from the inside out.
“I want to feel you when I cum inside you...I want to make you mine in every way possible...will you let me?” his husky voice travelled to every single part of your soul as you let your mouth hang agape. 
“But – what if...you know?” you replied, wondering how he felt about the most obvious thing that could happen from not using protection. 
“You have nothing to worry about, Y/N” he whispered softly, feeling himself press against your small opening as the tip of his cock became engulfed by your slick tightness. “’If it happens, it happens. I would want no other woman to mother my children” you both let out an intense moan in turn as he pushed his way inside you. When Jungkook thought about you carrying his first child and bringing the product of your love into the world; with him becoming a father and you becoming a mother, it filled him with delicate feelings of paternal happiness he knew he could never feel with anyone else but you. 
You bit your lip hard as you rolled your hips at a rhythmical pace into his – feeling every inch of him curving inside you. Jungkook placed one hand below your bottom, while cradling your back with his free arm as a means to let you set the pace of your love making, but still letting him have full control over your every movement. You felt wave after wave of pleasure strike you as your clit moved flush against Jungkook’s body that was tight against yours; and your moans continued to spill from your lips as he looked up into your face – his eyes full of life and love as he seemingly peered right into your soul. In contrast to Jungkook’s way of asserting himself over you just moments ago, you could see the vulnerability in his eyes as he let his mouth hang open – panting and groaning at the feeling of pleasure from being inside you and so close to you.
“I love you...so much, Jungkook” you managed to speak – feeling your body almost grow limp from having little to no energy left as you felt your sweat drip down your temples. Sensing your exhaustion, Jungkook helped you lay down on your back to the bed – keeping himself still lodged inside you as he rested himself between your legs. His thrusts were slow, deep and meaningful as he pressed his forehead to yours and took your hands in his – pinning them to the bed while he felt your pulse rocket as he pushed you once again to your second orgasm of the evening. You felt like the entire world was spinning as you attempted to moan and writhe in fulfilment – but unfortunately, no sound left your mouth as you produced a silent cry in the wake of Jungkook’s pleasure-filled stokes that reached deeper and deeper within you.
“And I... I love you Y/N” Jungkook’s lips found yours for the millionth time as he felt himself twitch inside of you – his entire seed mixing with your juices as he came deep within you. He tensed every single one of his muscles, letting you swallow each of his moans as he slowed down gently.
“I’m so happy that you’re mine...” he almost whimpered as his movements ceased – before letting himself collapse on top of you, resting his head in the crook of your neck while you raised your arms up and over his back to hug him even closer to you.
“And I’m so happy that you’re mine, too” you kissed the top of his head – still feeling his cock buried inside of you as you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. 
Jungkook raised his head a fraction to look at you – his appearance both thoughtful and endearing as he held on to you. “I really am sorry Y/N. I never want you to feel like your aren’t a priority to me” he blinked gently as you continued to listen to his heartfelt, post love making thoughts.
“I know” you replied quietly, tracing the muscles along his back with your fingers. “And I’m sorry too. I guess we both just need to communicate a little better”.
“My Y/N – You are my world. You – you are my everything. I used to not understand what people meant when they said that to someone they loved, because before you – I thought music was my only love. But every day I spend with you, you give me a hundred more reasons to adore you. I promise I will spend the rest of my life trying to prove that.”
You felt yourself well up at his words of endearment. He really was your world and you now knew for a fact that you were his too. 
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“Ooh, I forgot to say” you interrupted yours and Jungkook post love making silence. 
“James said I could approve the soundtrack for our film” 
Jungkook smiled to himself upon hearing you refer to it as your film. 
“If that’s what James said, who am I to undermine the director.” He declared. 
“The songs are on my phone in the Media Folder but im gonna hop in the shower while you listen. Cause it will break my heart if you don’t like them” he chuckled, half joking half serious. 
“I know im going to love them babe. But you go and take your shower, I’ll be right here when you come out”. 
He left with a smile. 
You scrolled through his phone to find the music files and tears began to fill your eyes once again as you read the tracklist: 
“I’d fight a microwave for you”
“You smell like home” 
“I think you’re pretty and I’m intimidated by you too” 
And the list went on. It was his list. His list of your phrases that made him smile. Before you could even finish reading the tracklist, you ran to the shower you embrace your bunny boy and show him for a second round how much you loved him. 
Although, if you had taken just a few moments to read the tracklist, Jungkook is sure you would have loved the last song on the soundtrack. It was the only title that wasn’t you contribution, it was his: 
12. “I hope she’ll marry me”
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Hope ya'll enjoyed it! My requests are open, feel free to send em across :)
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