#( dance instructor au )
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bangtanficsforyou · 2 years ago
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They Reject You (Hyung Line)- Part One
Pairing: BTS x Reader 
Warnings: small mentions of alcohol, there might be curse words here and there.
Genre: angst (but it's not that bad, i think?)
A/N: If you enjoy my writing and wish to support me, consider joining my patreon!
Jin
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"That's cute," Jin quips.
"Huh?" You say in a questioning tone. Not understanding what exactly he is commenting on.
"The guy preparing dishes for the girl, even though he sucks like really bad at it." He replies with an amused smirk playing on his lips.
Your eyes drift back to the screen for a brief moment to see the said guy now mistaking sugar for salt.
"I mean, dude is trying, so yeah, it is cute," you agree with a nod and take another scoop out of your ice cream tub.
"If only he had my cooking skills." He boasts, leaning back slightly as his smirk turns cocky.
"You went from complimenting the lead guy to complimenting yourself, real quick." You quirk a brow at him, letting him know that you totally intend on calling him out.
"Does that surprise you?" He ask, quirking a brow of his own, in return.
A soft smile appears on your lips. "Considering that it's you, no, it really doesn't."
He nods at you to agree with your words. "Hey, but it's true though. I am a great cook and my girl would be really lucky to have me as her man."
Something about the phrase my girl rubs you off in the wrong way. Maybe it's because when he speaks it like that, your brain comes up with the image of someone faceless being all coupley with him. But that's the thing, you don't want that person to be faceless, you want it to be you.
"So you'll cook for your girlfriend?" You ask trying to keep your tone playful to hide the way your stomach is currently churning.
He looks at you as if you have asked the most ridiculous question and as if the answer to that question should be obvious. "Duh, that's like one of my top date ideas. To cook for the girl I love and wooing her with my skills."
You hum in response.
Does he ever think of you that way? Is the person faceless to him as well? Or does he have someone he likes already?
"Jin," you call out, not thinking straight and acting solely on the emotions that are coursing through your veins. Perhaps, you have had enough of bottling up these feelings and of not having a clue where you stand.
He responds with a hum before glancing away from the screen to look at you.
"I have feelings for you."
For a few moments there's only silence except for the noises from the TV and in those few moments you keep your eyes locked with his, simply because you're far too anxious to move even in the slightest. Plus, having your eyes on him allows you to notice every emotion that plays on his face.
But the longer the silence stretches, the more your heart sinks.
If you were to go by his reaction, or lack thereof, you know, that whatever words he's about to speak, will only break your heart.
Jin closes and opens his mouth a few times, searching for a reply. He just wants to say something, anything that will break this awkward silence.
"You can just be honest with me, you know?" You say, adding a light chuckle at the end, in hopes that it will make him feel comfortable enough to spit out whatever it is that he wants to say.
Thankfully, it seems to give him enough courage.
"I just, haven't ever thought about us like that and your confession caught me extremely off guard." Jin sighs. "But I'm glad you confessed, I can imagine how tiring it can get to keep your feelings to yourself. I just hope now you feel a little lighter and I really don't know what's the app–"
He is cut off by a something small hitting him right across the face. When he realises that it's a popcorn and that it's you, who has aimed it at him, he stops his rambling and looks at you with a confused frown.
"You don't have to ramble so much," you snort.
"I just don't know what to say," Jin for some reason looks disappointed with himself. "Just give me sometime?"
You shrug, pretending to be totally unbothered. "Don't worry about it. Take all the time you need."
With that you turn back towards the tv screen, and rewind the movie a little bit because you have no idea how the plot progressed in the last ten minutes. Jin takes the hint that this conversation is over, at least, for now and resumes watching the movie.
However, you can feel his eyes swiftly move to your face every now and then, just to make sure you're okay.
Any other time, you'd have appreciated it and cooed at how sweet and caring he is, but right now, you honestly hate it.
Because even though he didn't directly say it, you understood what he meant. He does not know how to turn you down.
You understood it the moment he said that that he has never thought about the two of you like 'that'. As someone who knows what falling in love feels like, you know, picturing yourself with the person you want, is something that happens automatically. It's just a part of the process.
But it never occurred to him that way because he never really found himself falling for you.
So for the next twenty minutes, you pretend to be slowly falling asleep to avoid any sort of interactions with the man sitting a few feet away.
Min Yoongi:
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"You're late," that's the first thing Yoongi says when you take your seat. Rightly so, you think. Afterall, you're half an hour late and had it not been for your text you're pretty sure Yoongi would have left by now.
"I'm sorry, there was too much traffic," you lie hoping he buys it.
He nods but a part of you thinks he doesn't completely believe it, yet chooses not to question your words.
Instead he hands over the menu to you. "What would you like to order?"
"I will just have the usual, I guess," you reply not bothering to skim through the menu.
"Well then," he dings the bell, notifying the waiter that you both are ready to order.
Once the waiter has noted down both of your orders and is gone, you find yourself glancing around awkwardly to avoid his eyes.
"How was your Sunday?" His deep voice greets your ears and you mentally curse out loud.
"It was just another Sunday," you shrug, not bothering to keep up the conversation because honestly, you're scared as fuck to exceute your plan.
Okay, that sounded very spy like but it's not that serious.
Your plan is to confess to Yoongi.
Yoongi is the man you're engaged to.
The man you're engaged to because getting married to him, would be extremely beneficial to both of your father's companies. The man with whom you have gone on ten dates so far, because although, arranged, you two should get the oppurtunity to get to know each other before marriage. The man for whom you've found yourself falling, just after the third date.
When you put it like that, it does sound as intense as being a spy. Because even though the two of you have been on dates and are about to get married, Yoongi isn't someone who's emotions can be read very easily.
You don't even know if he enjoys your company or agrees to go on the dates with you just because he feels like he has to. He doesn't make you feel unwanted but that doesn't mean you feel particularly wanted either. It's somewhere in between. Which is confusing as fuck, to be honest.
But it's not like all that matters. You both are getting married eitherways, so the bare minimum you can do is to be honest about your feelings for him. That way, you'd let him know where you stand in this arrangement.
You have told yourself that just because you found yourself falling for him this quick doesn't mean he'll too. If his current feelings for you, turns out to be platonic, you'll be okay with it. But that doesn't mean that a part of you does not hope for him to reciprocate your feelings.
And it's because of your 'plan' to confess, that you were late by half an hour. You just kept pacing in your office and lost track of time.
But now that you're here sitting infront of him, and staring at him, you realise that there's no point in stalling.
"Actually, I realised something this Sunday," you say.
He quirks a brow that lets you know that you've got his attention. "What that realisation might be?"
You sigh, feeling your nerves take over. "That if we're going to get married, we should be honest with each other."
His curious expression turns into that of a confused frown. "What do you mean?"
You chew on your lower lip before taking a deep breath in hopes that it will provide you with the courage you need to just let the words out. "I like you."
Yoongi's face remains neutral but you don't miss the glimpse of surprise that flashes through his eyes. That surprise is enough to tell you that he wasn't expecting that.
He remains silent for a few moments and you let him be. Before he can speak, the waiter comes with the food which breaks the tense atmosphere.
Thanking him, you take your portion of chicken on your plate, when Yoongi starts speaking.
"Thanks for being honest with me," he says it softly and in a tone that lets you know that he means it. It also lets you know that there is a but coming. "But I guess I have been too stuck in my head to let myself relax and feel anything."
There we go.
You know you said that you'd be okay with him turning you down but now you don't feel okay at all.
It hurts.
But you guess, you should have seen it coming.
It doesn't help that from the very moment, you realised your feelings for Yoongi, your brain had been imagining you two being happily married and being in love with each other. Basically living with each other like any other couple who marry in normal circumstances.
Your hurt must have been visible on your face because as soon as Yoongi notices the effect his words have, he starts fumbling with his words.
"Look-What I mean to say–"
You chuckle, albeit a fake one, to put him at ease. "You don't have to explain yourself, it's okay."
Yoongi looks unsure but figures he doesn't know what else to say. Which is why he ends up asking, "are you sure?"
You nod and give him  smile, hoping to reassure him.
As you look back at your plate, you find yourself wondering what this marriage is going to be like. It's not exactly loveless, but then that love isn't reciprocated. You find yourself panicking extremely, when you think of the both of you living together.
Fuck, what's worse is now he's aware of what you feel for him. You two would pretend to be happily married to the rest of the world and be awkward when away from the public eye.
What the fuck have you gotten yourself into.
Hoseok:
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It's weird now that you have confessed to Hoseok, your dance teacher.
You know when the term "teacher" is used in a sentence like that, people usually frown. But you'd come to your defense and say, that there's nothing frown-worthy here.
You're twenty two and he's twenty six, both adults and belong to the age group where you both can make your own decisions. Plus, it isn't the usual teacher-student scenario here. Although, you and Hoseok started off with him being your teacher, gradually the two of you became friends.
Hence, it's fair to say he isn't just your teacher.
It's when you started to get to know him outside of the four walls of your classroom, that you started to fall for him. How could you not? He's a literal sunshine. A person who can light up anyone's mood and someone who's presence feels so warm and bright.
You've honestly, never met someone like him before.
You think he should have seen your confession coming but the surprised Pikachu face he made upon your decaration of love, told you that he clearly did not anticipate that.
The whole confessing thing went fine. You were scared, yes, but you did it. What isn't fine, however, is how he is yet to give you an answer.
But it was you who had asked him to take as much time as he needed and to not feel pressured. But after seven long days, you're getting antsy.
Which is why, once the class is over, you linger until everyone else is gone. Once you notice that there's no one else and just you and Hoseok, you head towards him.
You tap on his shoulders to make him aware of your presence.
He turns around and upon noticing that it's you, he gives you one of your sunshine smiles. "Hello."
"Hey," you return his smile and greet him back. "If you don't mind, can I talk to you about something?"
He nods without missing a beat and you honestly love how this isn't awkward at all. Although, by the look in his eyes, you think he has some idea what you want to say. "Did you think about what I said last week?"
Hoseok gives you a nod again, and this time his smile turns apologetic. "Yes I did and I'm so sorry for not reaching out to you any sooner."
You wave your hand in the hair dismissing his words. "Don't apologise, it's obvious that you'd need your time to gain some clarity."
"Thank you so much for being so understanding." He feels relieved to hear your words but sighs when he realises what he will have to do. "But I think I'd rather us be friends, I'm sorry."
Ouch.
You chuckle. "Again, there's nothing you have to apologise about. Thanks for letting me know."
With that you give a tiny little wave and head for the door.
"Wait, you're leaving?" He queries, not expecting you to just leave.
You smile at his question. "Although I'm like totally cool, I still need some time away to let it sink in that the guy I have been crushing on for months, just turned me down."
Hoseok feels bad when you put it like that but he knows you're right. "I get that, I'm sorry–"
"Stop apologising, will you?" You say in a light tone letting him know that there's nothing that he should be worried about and that you're definitely not upset about his rejection. When you notice that his expression has softened, you offer him one last smile before heading out.
When the warm air greets you outside, you feel a bit of melancholy. It's just your mind that wonders how beautiful it would have been had you got the opportunity to call Hoseok, yours. How lucky would you have been had you got to see the side of Hoseok that he reserves only for the special someone. How you could have easily fallen in love with him and would have cherished him.
But alas, you don't think that you'll get the chance to do any of the above.
You just hope whoever, gets to do those things with him, they cherish him and treat him right.
Namjoon:
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"I have feelings for you," you slurr, the evidence of alcohol heavily present in both your breath and words.
Namjoon, the person your words are directed at, completely freezes. He blinks a few times for you to say something like sike! gotcha but when you don't, he lets out a nervous chuckle. "You're drunk, you probably don't even know what you're saying."
"Just say that you don't feel the same. Don't try to educate me about whether I'm drunk or not," you whine in complaint. "I anyway saw you making out with that girl a few minutes ago."
Namjoon's expression changes when he realises that although you're saying this in your drunken state, you very well know what you're talking about. Were you really confessing to him? Right now? At your brother's birthday party?
"Hey, c'mon we can talk about this later." He says trying to keep his voice gentle so that he doesn't sound as panicked as he feels.
"No, I need you to say it to me." You reply, voice as firm as it can be in your drunk state. "I need you to say that you don't feel the same. That would help me get over you."
At the end of it, you end up looking like a child throwing tantrum with a pout and a sad yet annoyed frown on your face.
Any other time Namjoon would have cooed at the sight but right now he's too concerned about not making a scene and gain unnecessary attention.
His eyes do a quick scan of his surrounding and when he makes sure that so far the two of you have managed to not draw attention, his eyes drift back towards you and he speaks in a hurried, hushed tone. "I don't think this is the right time to talk about this. Especially not in a room full of people."
"You're deflecting from the topic," you huff and cross your arms. "There's nothing too difficult about rejecting my confession. Just say so and we will be done."
"Can we do this later–"
"No we can't," you cut him off and stomp your feet in anger. "You don't know how much it hurts everytime you treat me as just your best friend's little sister. I know you'd never see me like that but seeing you make out with someone else was a whole different level of hurt."
Namjoon's features soften when he notices that now your features have turned that into of heartbreak.
"I understand what you're trying to say," he says his eyes now on the floor. "But still, I think that this is a conversation that should be saved for later."
You get closer to him, your eyes visibly fuming with how he refuses to take your words seriously.
"You tell me that you don't feel the same, right to my face or I'm not moving an inch from here." You grit the words through your teeth.
Namjoon sighs and you're standing so close to him, that you feel his breath hit your face. "Is that what you want?"
"Yes," you reply without missing a beat with your eyes fixed on him, refusing to move an inch. It's your drunk mind's attempt at registering everything so that you don't forget it when you wake up tomorrow. You need to remember this so that you can put a stop to this one sided pining for once and for all.
"Well then, I don't feel the same." He whispers the words so slowly and so gently, that had it not been for your undivided attention, you'd have missed it.
But you don't.
The words have you flinching even though this is very much what you had asked for. You take a few steps back and nod at him, letting him know that you're satisfied with his answer.
You don't look up at him as you leave the hall and ultimately, the party. You think you hear a voice calling your name and you think it might just be Namjoon's but you don't turn around to confirm your suspicions.
Right now, your utmost priority is to reach your apartment and let things sink in.
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sciderman · 5 months ago
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song of the day (for...them...)
youtube
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sunflowericescribbles · 6 months ago
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As much as I live for radioapple AUs, I feel like "Dirty Dancing" would fit best with Chaggie 👀
I mean we can still have dance instructor Alastor, but Charlie would go for his dance partner (and co-instructor) Vaggie xD
Actually Al is going to be the distraction for Charlie's dad whenever they want a chance to sneak away..
You know what, why not pack both pairings into this AU. Charlie and Vaggie do their dance lifting and Alastor and Lucifer do their jazz number.
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klaineccfanficlibrary · 6 months ago
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Hungry Eyes
Author: fablewriter
Rating: T
Status: Completed in March 2014
Word Count: 16,168
Summary: A reluctant Kurt goes to Dalton's Dream Resort with Finn, Puck, Santana and Rachel where he meets the resort's dance instructor, Blaine Anderson and begins to let himself have the time of his life.
Tropes/Genre: Dirty Dancing AU, AU, summer!Klaine, dance instructor!Blaine, Niff, Quick, romance
Read at: [PDF]
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lurafita · 6 months ago
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Dance instructor Magnus and barista Alec
Mundane AU Alec works at a coffee shop.
Which is situated right across from a dance practice studio, where a stupidly gorgeous man gives dancing lessons to kids of different ages.
And Alec can't be held resposible if he ignores the customers when stupidly gorgeous dance instructor straps on a glittering pink tutu, to help one of his little students overcome their shyness, and it's desperately charming and "dammit Jace, why don't you stop poking me and handle Simon's stupid frappuccino yourself?!"
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ebbpettier · 1 year ago
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i would bet money that agatha wellbelove stands in turnout all the time without realizing it
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clubsmarties · 4 months ago
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"If you think so. But also you are easy to get along with. I wonder if there is something we disagree on and personally I can't wait to find that out." He set his hands down by her legs and stared at her. She made him feel at ease, something unheard of in his life yet he couldn't keep his distance. "Really?" he asked in slight confusion, face closer than before as he smiled softly, "Good to know. Shall we head over to eat and watch an episode?"
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Katyrina gave him one of her brightest smiles. She already had a few ideas, her mind switching through color palettes until she found one that suited him. "That just means you are easy to get along with, regardless of the personality, yes? It is a strength many, many people lack." Kat turned and hopped onto the counter to watch him, short legs dangling in the air. "I like surprises," she said, blue eyes gleaming. Not everyone could navigate them, though. "Then we will watch that." She liked the sci in sci-fi, but didn't delve into the genre often. Regardless, Katyrina was always willing to try new things or see from a new perspective. She skimmed her fingers along his forearm and looked up, glad to hear him laugh despite the mess she'd gotten them into.
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baeshijima · 1 year ago
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— hsr men in a royalty au
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INCLUDES : blade ; dan heng ; gepard ; jing yuan ; luocha ; sampo + gn!reader
A/N : what started off as a duke!blade word vomit became a hsr royalty au brain dump. sighs. also once again pushing my knight!reader agenda bc the lack of royalty aus with knight!reader is criminal.
genshin ver.
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imagine you're the personal guard for emperor!jing yuan, picked by his hand when he was still just a mere crown prince learning the ropes of what it meant to rule an empire. in truth, there's not much for you to do other than stand close behind when in public settings or indulge in his whimsical nature when in private and within the confines of the palace walls. in spite of that, you can't help but to wonder whether it's necessary to be his partner when he practises ballroom dances, despite never actually dancing in the banquets. well, who are you to question your duties, right?
there is no destination without a journey; jing yuan would know this best. having been thrust onto a pedestal from young, he's witnessed more types of people than he can count on his fingers: those who act nice in order to gain, those whose eyes cannot hide their contempt, those who are kind out of fear, those who act on behalf of others, those who hold respect without ulterior motives... he has seen them all. his view of the world grew dull, the predictability of those around him bringing only disappointment to the young heir. the days passed in a blur with nothing of note, other than a lingering emptiness which kept him awake at night and a passion which only emerges when sparring with his instructor. and so when he was told it was time to choose a personal knight after countless assassination attempts, he trudged through the halls with poise ingrained into his stride and a blank gaze reflecting his thoughts. but when he arrived at the training grounds to oversee the potential candidates his attention was immediately seized by another, his usually stagnant heart thundering. for the first time in his life, jing yuan discovered what it meant to want something as he watched you strike your training sword against your opponent, his world bursting into colours he never knew existed before then.
jing yuan sometimes finds himself envying those who can dance without care at banquets. he has an image to maintain in front of his people while you tend to be a stickler for this kind of thing, often refusing a dance in favour of maintaining your post. he supposes it's fine if you're both together, despite the numerous times he's imagined what it would be like to dance with you in front of everyone, as opposed to the privacy of the palace under the guise of “not becoming rusty”. but as he casts his gaze over to where you rest, having fallen asleep after a particularly thrilling game of starchess with your body tucked within the protective embrace of his ever-dutiful lion, he finds himself engraving moments like these into his memory and filing them away to look back on when nights to himself become a little too lonely for his liking. it's one of the many sides to you which only jing yuan has been privy to; one of which he takes immense pride in and vows to shelter from the danger which lurks around every corner.
(he will never let you know how your bright eyes is what set his once monotonous life ablaze in colour all those years ago — the aloof crown prince utterly besotted with a starry-eyed rookie knight. he will also never let slip how he still thinks back on the warmth he felt when you took his trembling, slumped form in your arms after he fought his stricken teacher all those years ago, the aftereffects of your touch still lingering on his skin even to this day.)
despite being duty-bound beside the impish emperor, there are times where you, too, are in need of some peace away from his scheming mind and watchful eyes. in these moments, you find yourself finding respite within the royal library built into the palace, a stack of books typically used as your makeshift pillow. and even if librarian!dan heng gives you a death stare from his designated place, you know he appreciates your company when he drapes a blanket over your shoulders and replaces the book pile with a cushion or two. although, you can’t shake off the feeling you’ve seen him from somewhere before

for as long as he can remember, dan heng has always been on the run. from what? he’s not even sure anymore; it has been that long. it is but a mere shadow, a phantom which haunts him under the glowing sun and the gleaming moon. he can run — run until his body is weak and heavy with fatigue — but he can never hide, for it follows close behind and lurks around unseen corners. as unnerving as it may be, he has grown used to the chilling gaze and staying on edge. after all, no matter how far he runs, no matter how hard he tries to blend in, there is no escaping a shadow. maybe that is why he felt a churning sensation stir in his gut when he first met the emperor to discuss his newly appointed position as the librarian, whose gaze held an unfamiliar sheen of conflict veiled behind an amiable disposition upon making eye contact. amidst the eyes of the sun held a glint of familiarity, one which dan heng couldn’t put his finger on the longer he dwelled on the thought.
dan heng didn’t know what to expect when he first met you; you, the personal guard handpicked by jing yuan himself. with all the duties he’s sure keeps you busy, it wouldn’t surprise him if he never met you past the glimpses he catches here and there when in official spaces. perhaps that is why it came as such a surprise when you stumbled into the library one day, all bleary-eyed and attempting to stifle your yawns, and he could only watch in a daze as you pulled out a random set of books from the shelves, plop yourself down at the nearest table, set the books on the surface and slam your head atop the pile, your soft snores filling the once-quiet room. dan heng wasn’t sure how long he sat there staring at you for, but it was long enough to wake you up and inform you of the library’s closing hour when the day’s hues bled into the night. what he thought would be a one-time thing soon became a regular occurrence — a routine — and he has become accustomed to your unceremonious visits and wonderful laughter and draping the blanket he now keeps under his desk over your slumbering form and admiring your peaceful expression over the rim of his novel. it’s come to a point where he can no longer imagine a life without it; without you.
(sometimes he wonders whether you enjoy the time spent with him as much as he does with you, in which he cannot help but to compare himself to the emperor you have pledged your life and devoted your loyalty to. amidst those thoughts, dan heng finds himself hoping you would favour him over the shine of the empire’s revered sun.)
royal guard captain!gepard is someone you have always admired, ever since you were just a rookie knight trying to prove your worth amongst a sea of prodigal candidates like him. he is kind as he is strong, a formidable ally and a terrifying foe. however, you can't help but wonder whether you’ve done something to offend him, what with the way he sometimes avoids you if you happen to bump into each other amidst the palace grounds and speedwalks in the opposite direction with hasty apologies trailing behind him.
the landau dukedom. it is known for its military prowess and defending the borders, but infamous for the strict duke landau. as well-respected he may be by the nobles of the court, gepard only knows a strict man more like a superior than a father. it wouldn’t be a lie to say duke landau was just that; a superior — a teacher, one who viewed his children as either heir candidates or a foundation to bolster the territory’s military power. while it may be a strict method, the respect gepard holds for his father is undeniable, feuling his desire to make him proud and carry out his teaching in the name of the honourable landau duchy. he stuck to harsh training regimens, endured countless trials of tactics and wit, witnessed his elder sister begin to refute against their father’s suffocating hold upon returning from the academy, watched as she left the duchy to have control over her own life with a promise to keep in touch with him and their youngest sister. these moments were fleeting, passing in a blur until he entered the ranks of the elite, eventually promoted to captain as he remained steadfast in defending the borders.
it took gepard countless sleepless nights tossing and turning in his bed and a highly amused serval laughing at his predicament to finally understand his feelings for you. love was an unfamiliar concept to him. he knew of camaraderie between fellow knights (which was what he assumed he felt for you, but just a bit more
 intense?) and familial bonds between family, so this new experience of his heart palpitating, hands clamming up, words stuck in his throat and an incessant heat clinging to his cheeks was unfamiliar, thus his avoidance. though that didn’t sit well with him, as a longing ache only seemed to replace it instead. and so, despite the apparent awkward flair his body language carried, gepard decided to follow his heart when it came to matters pertaining to you. he quickly came to discover your likes and dislikes, your miniscule habits when practising swordsmanship, the subtle cues you display when uncomfortable, the smile you showed upon seeing something you liked and the grin you displayed upon besting him in a duel. they were all segments which made up the very being you are, and the pieces which fit within his heart to establish this newfound love he holds for you.
(as your direct superior there are many things he notices when watching from the sidelines. among many, the one which stands out are the eyes which follow you — some gaze at you with envy, others regard you with awe, but there are a few which regard you in the same adoration he does. love and jealousy were never something gepard thought he would experience; not until he met you.)
with your role as one of the empire’s royal knights and the emperor’s personal guard, it comes as no surprise to be inflicted with injuries of varying severities. as a result, you are well-acquainted with royal physician!luocha through your numerous visits. you’ve come to find his pleasant visuals and soothing voice does wonders to heal your fatigue, even if he does tend to go a little overboard in his lectures when you come to him with less-than-fine wounds.
being able to wield elements and being able to use divine powers are two different things; one is widely accepted, the other is not. at least, that’s the case in the xianzhou empire. those born with the ability to use divine powers have fled into hiding, unwilling to be outcasted — or worse, executed — for being afflicted with the cursed power of the divinity. as such, having lived the majority of his life in concealment, luocha is no stranger to hiding his abilities. curse or blessing, it’s an irrevocable part of him. still, he didn’t want to stop helping others the way the nature of his powers could. and so he resorted to learning medicine. he soon became a renowned travelling doctor sought after for his vast knowledge, all of which garnered the attention of the emperor when he stopped by in the capital and was offered the position of royal physician. with little drawbacks, handsome pay, and a grand place to stay without needing to be on the run, luocha accepted and became the sole royal physician of the empire.
there was very little luocha found himself to be afraid of. with no one but himself to rely on, he’s crossed many bridges on his own without care. there was no need for such sentiment in survival. or so he thought. in all his years, luocha doesn’t think there was anything more terrifying than the day you were rushed in by a frantic jing yuan, your complexion sickly and covered in sweat and breathing laboured. as it turned out, you were poisoned, having drank it in place of jing yuan upon sensing something suspicious. he doesn’t recall anything making his heart drop as quickly as the situation then had, his mind blank yet frantic as he forced the panic-stricken emperor out of the infirmary and laid you on one of the beds. your symptoms were dire, he noted, and there was nothing in the cabinets suited for this kind of quick-acting poison. your condition was worsening, a pained furrow of your brows and haggard appearance being clear indicators. a bright glow then illuminated the room, and luocha came to the belated realisation he had used his abilities for the first time since concealing them, for the thought of losing you was far more torturous than his will to hide his abilities.
(there was no thought to the act, just sheer desperation to not let you die. it took him a long few days to realise that, all of which were spent looking after you by your bedside. he never spoke of how he cured you when you asked, eyes bleary with confusion on how you’re still alive, instead choosing to keep it to himself as he chided you for being so reckless. you will never know of the inner turmoil he endured, even praying to a deity he never once believed in to ensure your safety. should you sustain more severe afflictions, luocha has no qualms using his abilities again — if it means you live, he will make an exception.)
thinking about duke!blade, whose
 less than pleasant disposition does little to help refute the fearful rumours surrounding his name. you've met him a handful of times when he visits the palace under jing yuan's summon or catching him at the odd banquet or two, and even back when he used to train with jing yuan before his visits suddenly ceased. even so, you find yourself doubting those rumours, especially when he seems to wear an expression akin to peace more often than he does of one resembling disdain.
the cold duke remains an enigma to those around him — even those who work under him. is it due to his quiet hostility? or is it perhaps something no one knows, such as a secret known only to him, his butler, his family physician, and the emperor? a curse; one of immortality where his soul is torn to shreds only to be stitched anew before he can succumb to the paradise known as death. it's a never-ending cycle, one which causes him to no longer track the days when they all feel the same. the days out on leading monster subjugations and expeditions are just a temporary means of escape — an outlet for his pent up frustrations to let loose without worry. no one knows what truly goes on in his mind, only ever witnessing or hearing tales of his brutal yet awe-inspiring deeds on the blood-soaked battlefields, and the origin of his adopted alias: blade. his true name evades him, having been discarded the moment he lost his humanity.
he has always noticed you. it was hard not to when the favour you received was blatantly obvious, even from when you were just a fledgling knight and he the young heir of his duchy. there weren’t many opportunities for him to talk to you, what with the way jing yuan always seemed to divert his attention back to their instructor when noticing his wandering gaze to your distant figure, and even more so after the curse struck him full-force and he stopped visiting altogether outside of summons and banquets. it wasn’t until he returned from a monster subjugation as the sole survivor did he first properly meet you. with his mind torn and body regenerating itself, he failed to notice someone rush towards him, an unfamiliar warmth encompassing his bleeding torso as his conscience began to fade. an unfamiliar ceiling and an unfamiliar room was what greeted him when he awoke, but a warmth he registered as familiar gripped his calloused hand. what met his gaze then was your dozing figure, your head smushed against the duvet beside his leg with even breaths giving way to your unconscious state. his typically chaotic mind was silent as he stared at you. it was an odd feeling, one which elicited a sharp inhale when you shifted in place, your grip on his hand loosening as you sought out a more comfortable position, before exhaling in relief when you resumed your rest. it was an odd feeling, but it wasn’t unpleasant. and, for the first time in his life, blade experienced what it meant to be at peace.
(while he never spoke of that incident to you again other than a brief thanks for giving him (unnecessary) medical attention, he found himself drifting towards you more frequently — whether it be conversing with you during those bothersome banquets, stretching out the time you escort him before he enters jing yuan’s office-slash-meeting room, sharing specialties from his territory during garden strolls, or even requesting you to spar with him. the victory from either side is sweet, but the strained expression he catches from notable figures is even sweeter.)
amongst the many you’re acquainted with, merchant!sampo is the one you’re most on edge around in spite of the years you have known each other for. it’s not that he’s a bad guy, but there’s something about his easy smile and ever-searching eyes and his words that always seem to form into something people want to hear which all seem
 off. well, maybe you’re reading too much into his demeanour. after all, if he truly did have sinister intentions, you’re sure he would have acted on them by now — he’s had plenty of time to.
there’s a certain level of cunning one must have in order to survive. whether that be wits, deceit, getting one’s hands dirty, it doesn’t matter. they are all just a means to an end, after all. sampo has long since tread on the path of deceit, a game of cat and mouse with unassuming clients and authorities. but business is business, and what better way to make use of that than exploitation? disguised in a bar known as “masked fools” mapped across the globe sits a wealth of knowledge, hidden behind a secret code only known by those who covet wealth or revenge. it’s a fun pastime; the information-slash-mercenary guild receives money, the client has their request done. sampo quickly discovered playing the unassuming fool in front of the target only for them to discover they were the fool all along to be exhilarating. it was a rush like no other, even more so when he mastered the art of disguise and blended in with the crowd, building connections and biding his time as the airheaded merchant.
sampo admits, he was a tad hasty in his judgement of you. just a little. well, when compared to the ever-imposing figure of the royal guard captain chasing him down when he makes his weekly medicinal run for the palace’s physician, you weren’t all that impressionable at first glance. maybe it was the way you passively regarded him before walking off which led him to that belief, or perhaps it was the unassuming expression you always carried despite being the famed personal guard of the emperor. whatever the case, he was wrong. he realised that when his balance was tilted, back flush against the grass with your body pinning him down. the tip of your sword was against his throat and your eyes burned so brightly when asking what he was doing sneaking around a forbidden area to outsiders. he doesn’t remember what he said or did in response; all he does remember is the adrenaline rushing through his veins at the stern countenance you bestowed upon him. unconventional as it may have been, sampo thought you were the most breathtaking in that moment, a wondrous sight for his heart which only knew of cunning and deceit.
(it would be no lie to say money talks. in his line of business, it does all the talking. the only exception, sampo discovered, was when an ignorant fool attempted to hire him and have you
 removed, to put it lightly. sampo couldn’t help the laugh which escaped him at the expression on the man’s face after his carefree refusal, a sound which ceased as he pointed his weapon to the man’s throat and demanded he spill the identity of the one who sent him. after all, a mere small-fry like him doesn’t have the ability to even dream of hiring someone against you — mercenary or assassin.)
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if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33
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astralnymphh · 30 days ago
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đ©đžđ«đŸđžđœđ­đąđšđ§. ♡
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summary: ellie simply cannot dance the odette variation perfectly without you spotting her. she calls you in, and swans begin to sing.
content: ballerina!ellie, smut, mdni, dom!reader, white swan and black swan dynamic, fingering(e!rec), slight choking, slight degradation, semi-public sex, presence of risk, drabble length, had to get something of this au out before i went psycho. think of this as series teaser, almost. barely, somewhat proofread. wc: 1.7k
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Ellie works against her body, and time works against her.
“Dammit—I can't get it right.”
It is February: the unfurling of the year, and she is Odette this season. The white swan had incarnated, plucking only the most graceful, most sedulous ballerina from the flock. She begins to believe herself after all the blood, sweat, and tears produced in anticipation, and training. Nothing is graceful about this loathing season, though, and save for the culmination of when she was cast her sorrowful-swan, ivory feathers, this is a tribulation that eats her down to the sore ligaments of herself. Perfection is eroding.
She tries and she fumbles. “Fuck!”
Usually, this is no issue. Ellie is inherently so given to pirouettes; the group instructor is unapologetic about that praise. But their momentum overwhelms their beauty—her instructor also claims. She must find a balance, within, and without thinking too hard.
So she ends up calling you in to think for her.
The black swan.
Tutoring, of a sort. “You have the wings of a vulture,” you broach, pacing forth and from the space behind. You only brace the front when you spot an incorrection. “Loosen up.”
She is nervous to have her heartbeat in your ears. You have this touch nobody else can give, and yet it is for a reason she wishes not; correction, not love. However, she just might love it regardless. Touchings of the arms that mean nothing to you, and many things to her. You tap her shoulder, and the muscles noticeably stiffen. With a gulp, the chafing organ inside her is a solitary song she hopes you cannot sense the thrumming of.
Tired hands fall to her thighs in a slap. You watch her lips form a question in the mirror. “Can't you just show me?” She is adamant with it. Adamant with everything, if you recall each sentence you overheard from her private sessions. Somethings of malediction, most a pained curse.
Those bruises and bumps reflect that.
“Your grace should come from within, Swan Queen.” Although an aphorism most would groan at and nullify, it is almost vital to every professional dancer. Even you nourish yourself with the saying, and you are at the top. “Just as Pavlovich would say, right?” Ellie has technique. In fact, she has a grasp on it so violent—so obsessive, not a single other picture-perfect girl in that room on the day of Swan Lake casting could bear it.
Except you.
She puffs her cheeks into apples, “Fuck,” and mumbles under her breath. This day would leave a sprain.
Nuturing her inelegance. You think of it like this, and you treat it as such. When your palms introduce two gentle pressures upon her ribcage from behind, she fears you can hear it. Her heart; its rage. She overthinks the gesture and places her hands over yours on accident.
You hear air snag in her throat. Feel her fill.
“Feel my hands?” You motion with your thumbs, rubbing them back and forth under hers.
Ellie drops her head, and a strand of auburn slips. “Yeah.” Her voice is a feather. It writhes into the abditory of her chest.
She hates catching your eyes in the mirror. Especially right now.
Because she so graciously has her hands on yours, you turn your palms and basket the tense, fidgeting things in them. Raising them heavenward as a halo. “You have to let go up here. Don't overthink it.” Your fingers downpour all around her, until they return to her palpating ribcage. “Focus on your core.”
Fuck, what has she done? She invited you in here with the strict notion that you could implement her perfection. Nothing more, nothing less. Pavlovich would replace you as her tutor if the sun shone with the littlest deviation; you don't have to be here. But you are here, and she is borderline bleeding from her precious lips trying to distract herself from the warmth crawling out below. The visceral image of her leotard stained with a wet patch.
She feels like a loser.
She does anything but let go. “Like this?” It is so achingly obvious, the sleek of her juices making it uncomfortable to lift her leg.
“No,” you huff in a heavy increment, drawing away. Ellie's impliable arms were all over the place—and not in the graceful, poised manner of a swan. The poise she despairingly needs. “You can't be this nervous on stage. Someone psych you out or something?”
She descends from pointe. This girl is a rose-red silhouette of confusion, and crackling. “Um, not really.” But she is fucking easy to read.
All she needed was your hands again.
Handling her waist, her hips. “Did you lock the door?” Eating her mouth which gushes with the same, quiet concerns. You close it with yours.
“Mhm.” Ellie is feeding on your hums: fitting her lips in the cleft of yours, opening and closing, nodding and accepting, eager to pick from your fruit again. Docile creature in caging limbs. She is sat softly in your lap, doing all this like she cannot get enough of you, regardless if you are endless.
Her skin is peeking quietly from her neckline. Shining, shifting over her collarbones.
Post-practice glow.
She tries to relieve the throes of wanting immediately. This is not the same Ellie you tutored minutes ago; someone else crawled inside of her, made a corruptive influence. “Fuckin' soaked down there,” she hints with pacing breath, flexing her pelvis up. “Gonna buy me new ones?” She mentions about her tights. Those tights that always make her toned legs look woodland-born; spry as deer, long boughs laden with white bloomage.
You chuckle. “Oh, cause it's my fault?” But your hands push for that hot gap beneath, peel her leotard aside, and she goes white-eyed. Nudging to find the same kisses.
Opening her mouth opens her heart to you.
Then, her legs.
Full-walled mirrors reflect before her. Ellie goes insane watching the muscles of your fingers work her in numbing circles over the wet patch of her tights, and sometimes, insane from the stare you give while doing it. The friction is like molasses, but it is all she needs. God, she is pulsing on you. Whining on you. Does she come to rehearsals horny?
It certainly coheres.
Warming up next to each other on the barre, beholding one another during auditions, her cascading stares when you stretch, creeping softly up your legs. Wearing sheer skirts so wispy, so mini: you get it. Those sculpting shorts she wears—you're not even going to lie—prove the pleasure is visual. It creates a vertigo of pounding, indecent thoughts.
You folded them so delicately down her lovely hips. Now they lay stranded somewhere in the room, but fuck—does your skin raise thinking about her ass flexing in them before. Picture-perfect, palmful of an ass.
Has she touched herself to you?
She still avoids your eyes when you pick up your speed. “Fuckin' slut, aren't you?” Watching what was being done to her was all the more invigorating, hoping she would ruin her panties enough and swallow up your motions. Take you in closer.
She tells you she does like it. Well, whimpers, at least, and humps your river-paced fingers.
Then, she plucks at the band of her tights with her thumb, stretching it over the knuckle. You see where your finger pins it down.
Shadows brush against the frosted door. Soothing yourselves too comfortably into primal abandon and taking every tight piece of clothing off would maturate a scandal. Risks are high; you lead her wrist back.
Dopey giggles form her smile. “Why not?”
You affirm. “You know why.”
But no secretion of articulation was coming from her lips, only confirming sounds and thigh contractions when you grope and grab her thumping crotch. It was as though she was pent-up. Panting often out of her mouth, and glancing into the hoods of her eyes with a short leaning motion—you think she is. Pent-up, religiously for you. Little ligaments in her shiver with every little tug, barely moving anything under the layers, but she loves it.
She spent deadlight mornings dreaming that her bed beheld hers and your legs interlocked, cunts rubbing each other into humiliating moans and reeking of sex days afterward in the studio. It aches that she cannot see her bare pussy, and you, inside her. She thinks she might be fucking glistening under there. How exciting: what would it feel like if you ripped the fabric and stuffed her, displayed and degraded her? Your glare already does, Odile.
She needs to take you home. She needs the veiling between you and her so eroded, it rewrites the all-encompassing, eternal-age ballet right there on the grand stage. Makes the audience mull in their sleep. “Put your hands around my neck,” she beckons, inviting more hands on her.
“Yeah?”
She gulps. “Uh-huh.”
They fill the pale emptiness. After that, she finds herself trying to fuck herself more desperately on your fingers: she rides the length of them, using what is softened of her panties to slide up her folds. The pressure indescribable. She almost forgets that you are her competition; rivals shouldn't make her come this hard.
But, it's you. You lull the filthiness out of her.
When your fingers dig in the right spot, she pierces through her lower lip. “Yes, baby—fuck!” She jolts with a whimper. The sides of your fingers are scratched by the synthetic material of her thighs, her legs impulsing, eyes pinching, and her neck stringing up in your grasp. It is a chasm full of splutters. “That's it—right there, right there. Fuck, don't stop, please don't fuckin' stop.”
You palm her through it, fingers pouring out through the heart of her thighs in the mirror. And something else. Something that sticks her to her shame: orgasm-sopping panties she may replace, and replace twice. There is subtle moisture on your fingertips.
No way she goes home and sleeps soundlessly without flicking her pussy for you. In devotion of what you could not. She feens to be properly played with.
Ellie lies breathless in your lap, her skin sweating into yours. The scene is a silent basking until she breaks it:
“Should we continue this tomorrow?”
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bangtanficsforyou · 1 year ago
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TRYHL (Wattpad)
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I'm cross posting TRYHL and here's the link to it if you'd like to read it on Wattpad!
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clubsmarties · 5 months ago
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"Then we'll just take these home." he whispered back, not really wanting to have Carmen hear. "Can't have that. I'd be banned from the studio." Elias couldn't help but chuckle. Whenever he was around Katyrina, there was a weight lifted off his shoulders. This was easy, dancing and talking. Something he didn't have to think twice about. Normally he'd be too stuck in his head to fully be capable of having a conversation yet alone let himself be distracted by such crystallized ocean hues. He scoffed playfully as he couldn't see that happening. Though he could see the women trying to one up each other just to garner his attention.Not thinking twice about it he twirled and dipped her, eyes now being level with hers. "We've been dancing for a bit now. How about Friday night you let me take you out on a proper night out?"
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Katyrina giggled, eyes shimmering like gemstones as she looked up at him. "I saw that Mama V brought snacks," she whispered. "Better not let her hear you crave something besides her cooking." She spun under his arm before letting him draw her back to his chest, humming along with the music and following the steps Carmen long taught her. Though neither could see her, Carmen was watching, her coffee-dark eyes soft at the sight. Her girls were still too young for their first loves, but to see this one from the beginning was a heartwarming sight.
"Perhaps it will encourage them to dance better, to warrant your attention and praise," Katyrina said. She giggled again, glad to find that he was playful, teasing. There was too much darkness in the world to take life so seriously, and Katyrina preferred spending time with people who found enjoyment in life. Her pale skin flushed pink, but she didn't shy away. "'Need' does not apply when it is a 'want,'" she said. She'd been using Sarah as an excuse to sneak peeks at him for weeks already. She knew a dip was coming up, the song about to reach its end. Before it could, she added, voice soft, "Any chance to be in your arms, I will take."
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diorcities · 6 months ago
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𝓣𝒉𝒆 đ•Ÿđ’˜đ’‚đ’
haechan x you genre smut content ballet au, graphic violence (a fight, a vendetta, lascivious behavior towards reader), girl hysteria core, alcohol consumption, corruption kink, masturbation, mirror sex, oral sex (both, in different situations), clit/nipple play, anal fingering, anal sex, use of condoms, womanizer!haechan with a soft spot for reader, many biblical references and allusion to demons playing judas lady gaga somebody else the 1975 iris goo goo dolls strange kris bowers (cover ver.) black swan bts (orchestra ver) wc: 20.9k
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description: docile bodies loaded with lethal venom and betrayals are commonplace in the prestigious academy, and you happen to be their new prey when you're given the starring role with the smooth seducer with the devil's carved grin that everyone desperately desires: haechan
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there was a certain grace in the way your movements were synchronized. or so you thought. tender touches like feather-light against soft skin. breathing mixing in the air between. eyes staring at each other, existing, both, in the ether.
from the way his honey-colored eyes look at you, you might think he could choose you among the other beauties. but haechan is like that: he's made by a dark deity, someone who created his beauty to be lethal, as he possesses the devil's carved grin.
he doesn't belong to anyone. he's bound to leave trails of broken hearts and hysteria in his wake, yet you want him to be yours.
the furtive glances of the others present made you feel nervous, or so you want to believe when you feel your partner's warm, soft hands sit longer on your waist once the music ceases, and you tremble under his touch.
his chest pressed against your back, and you feel it rise and fall quickly and erratically as he catches his breath; a hint of a grin when he slips his fingers away and your breath comes out ragged, trying to suffocate it when you see the headmaster putting a hand to his head.
“quelle putain de merde. you better not look like this at the evening ceremony,” he says. “YOU HEARD ME!!?” the horrific scream made you decompose for a moment, to recover and manage to say in unison with the boy: “yes, sir”.
(quelle putain de merde: what a damn crap.)*
when your ears stopped ringing, you managed to notice muffled laughter under collective breaths. and kai, the dance instructor seemed to hear them too; one look at them silenced them all. however, their looks
 you scanned the room nervously. a dozen faces that seemed to drop blades. at you.
“jealousy,” an answer to your question; his breath hitting your ear making your heart skip a beat.
haechan looks down on you but you quickly look away, dizzy. eyes wanting to keep busy to avoid looking at that beauty mark near his mouth. wandering around the room, seeing it now clear as water. jealousy. in their graceful carved features.
the ballet academy was a place of contrasts. on the one hand, there were smiles and applause, praise and recognition, the beauty and grace of the dance. on the other hand, there were sharp teeth and hidden claws, ready to rip you to pieces. accidents, fractures, betrayals. everyone kills for a star, and now your back has a cross.
it was a new season for the equinox and the academy had to present the stellar of the swan lake. the atmosphere was charged with expectations and high hopes.
you were the new one, and everyone knows what happens to intruders. however, your thoughts were scattered in two maybes, was it because you were given the starring role just arriving at the academy, or was it because you were given the starring role with him?
because without a doubt, lee haechan is handsome. alluring. his body is athletic and long. gracious. his dance sophisticated. his face could have been carved by the angels themselves, and there could be no doubt that it was true. with a lethal smile and lips that resembled silk. pink, as if constantly bitten. perhaps for him, perhaps for lovers. and his attitude, he's alluring. a construction that reflects his appeal. he charmed with a sharp wit and relaxed mannerisms.
you're sure that casual encounters and no strings attached are strong pillars in the reason why everyone drools over him; they want to be the first to receive his first love. he's a paradox, a mystery, a wonder. and he knows it.
“you better watch your back, angel,” he says with his eyes fixed behind you, before he leaves with a subtle bow. his absence makes everyone leave, and you can't help but think that most people go after him.
when the room is clear, kai's expression changes. all his fury comes at you in flames as you gather your things to go home, “i was told excellent things about you” he speaks, finding something you ignore funny, “and all i see is mediocrity,” his eyes sweep over you with a mixture of disdain and derision.
his gaze is so dense and heavy, loaded with something foreign to you, that you must look away, but he's got other plans.
kai sighs, and his rough hand reaches for your face. your eyes reflexively close expecting to feel the burning of his palm against your cheek but he only ends up arranging a strand of your hair behind your ear, and the gesture couldn't seem more vile than his words. “i don't know what cock you sucked to get the role, but there won't be enough left for you to keep it if you don't fix this by the next rehearsal.” his eyes are stained with something else when he tries to show sweetness, “will you do that for me, precious?”
something twitches and buzzes in your chest and it's not until you see him leave that you realize you've been holding your breath and all your muscles groan as you relax. trembling hands grabbing your things quickly to head to the shelter of your apartment, mind scheming to devise your improving methods.
you take off your ballet shoes with a grimace; you've barely had time to adjust them the way you like them, but that's not why you feel something pricking your foot.
you drown out a garbled sound when you see sparkles on the sole.
a noise takes your breath away, perplexed, something creeps down your spine as your eyes shoot up to the shadows.
you've checked the room. “who's there?”
your eyes adjust to the silhouette that emerges from the shadows, maybe he didn't leave completely, maybe he's been staring at you in the shadows. and you feel no less terrorized, especially when he smiles lethally.
“d'you need help with that?” he asks when he sees you struggling with your shoes.
“it's okay, i forgot to...-” your words crowd on the tip of your tongue and yet you can't get them out. haechan kneels in front of you, and your finger catches one of the small shards of glass.
he takes your hands between his under your dazed expression, bringing it to his lips where he gently sucks on your finger, then leaves a kiss on the tip and another on the back of your hand. “shouldn't you be more careful?” he inquires then, taking your shoes from your grip, proceeding to smack them onto the floor.
his bemused gaze lands on you when you muffled a gasp, a smile dazzes on his mouth. “sorry, did i scare you?”
“no.” you breathe.
“d'you always look like a frightened lamb or is it just me?” he asks then, scanning your face. you try to keep your expression serene, even though you're about to have a crisis. “did something happen?”
kai's words are still running through your head. “i'm fine,” you lie. “i'm just tired.”
he hums, paying attention to the shoe ‘til he frowns. “you shouldn't leave your shoes lying around, it's dangerous, angel.”
you bristle, is he referring to you maybe because he doesn't know your name? “my name is
”
“i know your name.” he cuts you off, and your thoughts scattered all over the place.
“i think maybe i'd left them, i didn't believe they were going to put something inside.”
“why wouldn't they? you stole kai's attention.”
“did i?” you say, funny. it seemed quite the opposite.
yet haechan doesn't catch it. “hmm...”
you watch him smile slowly. “let's get home.” he holds out your ballet shoes and you feel them in your touch; in a short time he's left them almost impeccable.
when you walk into the bathroom, any trace of him having affected you disappears when you see the murderous glances through the mirror. the silence is tense, and it's broken by kazuha when she laughs with namjoo behind your back once you turn on the faucet and splash the cold water to clear your mind.
haechan has managed to make you more nervous than kai. you feel dizzy, but it feels... pleasant.
you've never been one to attract attention, but looking at the big picture, you'll have to get used to having it very often; you want to continue to have his, especially.
your attention is kept on guard, and your instinct tenses your muscles. you come to the conclusion way later than you should once they encircle you that you shouldn't have turned your back on them.
you don't see where the first punch came from. your head stings and you squeal, hitting something strong, a wall, maybe. a white noise dams your hearing, too stunned to see the next assault of punches.
black haze adorns your vision as a blazing fire bends you in half, breathless when one of them hits hard in your stomach. you feel the world spinning, perhaps it is you when you fall and almost hit your chin on the cold tiled floor.
“who do you think you are, huh? coming in and hoarding everything? new features, new face of the season. i've waited all my life to get the spotlight on swan lake, and you just show up looking stupid and they give you the part? with him?”
you can't believe they're mentioning him. the concept seems bizarre to you and panic leaves your mind blank, you are unable to coordinate to ask for help. you feel dizzy, and nauseous. you have no choice but to close your eyes and receive two kicks that you barely manage to cushion with your forearms on your stomach. “well, look at you. i think i know why they gave it to you, you're such a martyr, beaten to death.” they don't go for the face; they're not that idiotic. instead, they point to places that are easy to cover with tights, back, stomach, head. they'd go after your legs and ankles if you weren't curled up to protect them.
injuries are a death sentence.
when your whole body screams, suddenly everything goes quiet. your body cools against the tiles, until you find warmth in it. your body hurts, everywhere, and you're not so far away from a deadly kiss because your breathing has become shallow and slow.
you crack on the floor, picturing your mother laughing at this moment, your determination to fit in the concrete jungle. you've never been good at fitting in, you are easily blinded, manipulated and influenced.
you crawl as best you can, even if every step is an ordeal. the taste of iron in your mouth as you press your lips together in a last-ditch effort to stand up. no one has seen you, no one has heard you. you manage to walk slowly but surely, even though your belly aches and it burns, though tears threaten your eyes as you pass them in the hallway, feigning innocence as they surround haechan.
he smiles at you as if reading your agony, he rejoices like a spectator watching the sad dying gazelle before it is devoured. you still feel his gaze fixed on you as you make your way to the door and into the blackness of the night, crumbling once you reach the dark.
“hey, mom. just checking in. uh
 it's been good, everyone is so nice, and i've been cast as the swan queen for this new season, and
” you can't continue. every step you take feels like daggers sticking in your stomach. walking feels like the worst torture, but the bus stop isn't that far away and...
“need a ride?”
your ears keep buzzing and ringing, the soft rumble of his bike passing unnoticed by you, and you realize that he has been driving slowly for a while when you haven't stopped right away. you think you might have a concussion.
your head doesn't spin a single coherent thought as you watch his eyebrows arch and his dazzling eyes under a black helmet. you move as slowly as your thoughts flow. you've become so light-headed, that maybe, maybe he's smiling at your puzzling. “is it s-safe?” you manage to pronounce, after a while where your eyes wander over the black body.
your eyes shoot out at him when he removes the helmet, and consequently you stifle a sigh. he combs his brown hair, as he rests the object on his knee, a mischievous grin streaks across his angular face.
he hums, “are you scared?”
the bus stop is a couple of blocks away, and it would be quite a process to get home without passing out in pain on the way. but you know that's not the reason you're lowkey giving in; you know the way he looks at you has something to do with it.
“first time?” he wonders.
“is it so obvious?” a hint of pain keeps you from laughing any longer. when you smile, your face hurts like hell, and you realize that it's hard for you to make any expression without feeling like it's breaking in two. your lip pricks, perhaps because it has managed to catch one of their kicks. but you can't help biting it as a habit and then regretting it right after.
haechan does not miss any detail of you. “i've never been on one. but... i'd like to.”
he grins like the devil. “get on.” his hand extends the black helmet towards you, your feet moving closer to him by inertia. it's pretty, black, and shiny. a white stripe that runs across the entire circumference and ends in two wings on the back.
“i like your helmet.” haechan gets closer to you and smiles at seeing you so affected when he helps you put it on. “safe and sound.”
you are surprised at how easy it is for him to read you. the thing is, you don't know if it's because you are very expressive or if he has been looking at you lately to know your mannerisms. “only one helmet, you're the lucky one tonight.”
he must know that his smile has an effect on people, he must know that it has an effect on you. and it is overwhelming.
his hands assisting you when you climb on the back, mind starting to work again when it grips you not finding a way to hold onto once he starts to drive. haechan is totally oblivious to you slicing your brain in an obvious struggle as he waits for you, but you don't have a clue, and it's pathetic, “where should i... where do i hold on?”
you see his profile paying attention to you, humming fleetingly, “on to me,” he simply answers, voice sounding mocking but soft. your cheeks burn from feeling so stupid, until you find yourself in another dilemma again.
even you know how pathetic it would look to hold on to his shoulders, does he really expect you to hold on to his waist? would you dare? your hands glide cautiously, cold fingers meeting in the front of his stomach over his jacket, yet you still feel his warmth poking through you.
he laughs. “i won't be able to move if you hold on like that,” he says.
“oh, sorry...”
“here.” his hands are holding yours for the umpteenth time that night, and you're not sure you want him to let go.
as he guides your hands under his jacket, the movement causes you to press yourself against his back, and you almost squeal in pain if it weren't for your brain collapsing when you feel him making you interlace your fingers, brushing his thumb on the reverse of your palm. “ready?”
you watch him start the bike, and your whole body tenses up and you gasp against his jacket. before you go out like a shooting star breaking through the night, you're sure you feel his body light up because of it.
à­šâ™Ąà­§
your body feels charged with lead when you arrive at your residential complex. the cold has frozen your bones and the sedative effect on your aching muscles almost feels pleasurable. just remembering you just minutes ago on the cold tile floor makes you tremble under haechan's gaze.
he strips your breath away. lights bathe his sun-kissed skin and his hair turns dark as night falls, uncovering his eyes like pits of black matter. your eyes follow the motion of his fingers combing his messy disheveled locs, eyelashes fluttering so delicately, ignorant of your captivated eyes staring at every portion of his tanned, chiseled face. his puffed, pink lips. the golden halo he casts.
“delighted?” he chimes.
he catches you staring at him. a lazy smile blooms on his lips as his eyes soften. “the ride?” he adds, gazing at your lips part open because for a moment you thought he was referring to you encapsulated in a reverie looking at his profile.
“yes.” you reply to both. you hear yourself nodding, “... thanks for the ride,” you hop off the bike, agitated. the charge of energy that the lights and the breeze have given you, buzzing through your bloodstream. “it was fun.”
“glad you liked it.” he takes the helmet you offer him, scanning every move you make with curious, narrowed eyes. your eyes escape his to fix your wild hair and hide more your face. he, of course, sees that too. “have a good night...”
“you're not gonna invite me in?” he utters, turning off the bike and getting off it without waiting for a response.
“in-inside?”
“unless you want to stay here, but it's getting cold, isn't it?” he questions with an arched eyebrow, passing by and going towards the entrance. it takes you a couple of seconds to get your sleeping muscles going after him.
haechan crosses his arms and a thin line adorns his smile as you work on the deadbolt in your apartment. the first thing he does upon entering is leave his helmet on the kitchen aisle and take a look around.
the dim lights of the city outside the window reveal only a red couch in front of an old tv, a coffee table overflowing with chinese food containers, papers and magazines, and clothes thrown away and forgotten everywhere.
“sorry for the mess,” you speak, grabbing hurriedly the tiny piece of clothing he's taken from one of the kitchen chairs to study. a grin wells up on his mouth when he sees you in dismay, “my roommate, she's... out of control.”
“d'you have a roommate?” he inquires, following you to the bathroom. he stops at the door frame to watch you throw the underwear to the laundry basket. his gaze is lost in some part of your figure for a long time that you're afraid a bruise is showing. “yes, she's... out tonight.” your eyes register when he weighs your answer, eyes shining.
“is she a dancer?”
you try to gather words that can be used as adjectives for her, but you only come up with two: paranoid and psychotic.
“she's sort of... a free spirit. i don't know what she does, really. it's a mystery.” she is the mystery. fatal. dangerous. but in some way, she's alluring. “shall i offer you something to drink?”
“wine,” he replies.
your eyes sparkle in amusement, “won't it be dangerous once you drive on your way home?”
he hums, “i was hoping not.”
his smile is enlarged by something you don't know.
you leave him in the living room to make a glass of water. the fridge is almost empty except for leftovers from the night before and a couple of beers. you haven't made groceries in a while, totally consumed by the academy and the piece that you and haechan have to present in a few nights.
you're startled when you see his figure silhouetted by the lights outside lurking in the darkness. “you scared me.”
your heart is pounding wildly in your ribcage when you watch his slim body and relaxed mannerisms approach you and take the glass tightly grabbed in your hands, “my bad, angel.”
you follow him when he gets back into the living room. his long, graceful legs under a pair of dark jeans spill out onto your couch, almost hitting the coffee table so hard for you to reach when you sit down.
his body takes up all the space, letting you grab the single couch next to him. “tell me a secret,” he says, catching you off guard.
“a secret
?” you puzzle. “what kind of
”
“a dark one,” he replies, “and i'll tell you one.”
what does he want to hear? you don't think you have many dark secrets besides your dubious desires. should you tell him where they've done to you or your intrusive pulse wanting to kiss his mouth.
“you're handsome.”
he chuckles.
“i asked for a secret, not a confession.”
your cheeks light up. “it's the same to me.”
he stays quiet, and you're afraid you've bored him. “you're one of a kind...”
“i'm not from around here,” you quietly say.
“i know that.”
silence settles. haechan thinks. and you talk. “maybe that's why i'm not what kai wants me to be.”
“he's an asshole,” haechan chimes.
your fingers squeeze so tightly that it hurts. “i'm just... worried about the piece. what if... what if i mess it up?” the unexpected movement that he makes to get closer to you takes you by surprise. you see him rejoice, getting up from the sofa. “don't let him get into your head, angel.” you take that as a sign he's leaving, standing up from the couch with him as a reflex act.
you puzzle, “why do you call me that?”
he's towering over you, the fragrance of his cologne coming to you with the cold air slipping through the open window, “you're virtuous and moral. nothing like the rest.” he places the empty glass on the table and his eyes return to you. a deep gaze full of palpable and unknown emotions at the same time. “and you're pretty as one.”
you leave him roam the entire space as if he wants to memorize it before sighing heavily while something twists inside you with the flashing thought that you have bored him.
“i am not virtuous.” you follow him to the door before he stops at the kitchen counter. features showing what he's thinking. does it bother him that you are? does he wants you to be like the girls he surely likes?
“the reason kai is like this with you is because he wants you to give him a blowjob,” he says so suddenly and unfiltered that you choke on your own saliva. “i bet you wouldn't have thought that with all the signs.”
he sees you mortified, a blaze of heat rising up your neck, “he doesn't... h-he...”
“he wouldn't? yeah, right.” he scoffs. “the thing here is if you want to.”
something in your chest tightens. “n-no. no.” you see him downplay it. “why would you tell me this?”
“that's my secret. since you're worried about the piece and kai. i thought i'd fix both.” he shrugs. his thumb grabs your chin in a playful goodbye gesture. “and because we're partners, take it as a favor,” he says the last as he approaches you, chest almost brushing your forehead to take the helmet resting on the isle.
he's left you so groggy your mind flickers when he's advancing towards the elevator. “favor? will i have to return it back to you?”
“not right now, but yes.” he smiles boyishly, before magically disappearing.
à­šâ™Ąà­§
the dawn breaks in the silhouettes of the city when you stop. heart pumping behind your ears, disbursed.
it's been a couple of weeks where kai has been pushing you over the precipice. juggling between the murderous stares and haechan's company.
you are short of breath, and all your muscles scream for rest, but you force yourself to inhale and exhale a couple of times and continue, until your stay in the empty dance hall with the first rays of sunshine that you have ignored while practicing the piece over and over.
kai's words were enough to keep you awake at night. you can't find rest. despite the ache in your body, a rush of determination urged you to join the pulse of the city that never sleeps. buzzing with the obsessive compulsion to show what you're made of: the same matter as the stars.
your heavy breath and vision blur your senses, and you manage to miss haechan's presence, looking at you through the mirror. his features tinged with both bewilderment and wonder; something else burns in his pupils, prompting you to look away before you combust.
he doesn't say anything for a few long minutes where he watches you bring your body to the brink of collapse. it's been a terrible couple of weeks; you've been avoiding the bathroom at all costs, but their determination is harder to dodge as spring approaches, and right away they're waiting for you everywhere.
you check your shoes more than necessary, you pay attention to your surroundings very often. you're alert at all times and it's driving you crazy.
you stumble a step when don't stop haechan behind you, and almost fall to the ground. you quickly shy away from his touch when he intervenes and keep you from falling on your ankle, trying to pull yourself together.
“thanks... what- what are you doing here?” you're used to his hands running over your body when you're immersed in dancing, and for him to take you like this suddenly feels strangely alluring to you. it clutters your senses.
you're sure he wasn't supposed to show up until a little later, but now he's here, and staring at you with amusement. “i'd ask the same thing.”
if he's fallen into your pathetic question like a smokescreen to distract him so that he forgets that you've practically run away from his grip, it seems convincing.
“i knew i'd find you here, if you weren't home.”
“did you come to my house?”
“it's just passing by.”
you comb your hair, catching your breath with the knowledge that he can see you're flustered. your hands massage your tense shoulders. your whole body is in the same state.
haechan walks over and places his warm hand on yours. “sore?”
“a little.” he grins fleetingly.
“allow me.”
he helps you stretch. his graceful, bony fingers exert the pressure needed to make you close your eyes in relief, and when you open them, you discover him looking at you an arched eyebrow and smug grin; he's come so close that his breath gently bathes your forehead when you look down. and it feels too much, not because he touches you suggestively, but because you're afraid he might feel your heart about to jump out of your ribcage when he massages your shoulders until they hurt less. “what were you doing?” he asks softly, gaze searching for yours.
“i was perfecting a few steps
”
“show me.”
your eyes meet his, and he's curling his lips on one side, “i'll let you know,” he proposes, giving you space.
you hesitate. doubts furrowing through your thoughts that you push aside once he dances his eyebrows in a playful gesture. a pleased curve lifting the corners of his mouth as he mimics you when you nod.
you redo the piece and haechan concentrates, eyes scrutinizing you. in the middle of the piece he joins you and you fear you won't be able to continue when he holds you by the thigh; suddenly, being alone with him feels so much worse than when there are people, because then you think about every friction and touch, until you can't take it anymore.
by the end of the first cut you're airtight and a little agitated, looking for approval on his enthralled face. “so?”
he hums, “looks beautiful,” he declares with a smile.
“the steps?...i highly doubt it—”
“you.” he cuts you off. even though he smiles afterward, you want to believe that his constant flirting goes beyond just teasing when you blush.
you begin to believe that the dense weight on your chest is due to the energy transmitted by his gaze.
haechan touching his lips with his fingers, and his lack of response leaves you unsure. “should i be more... sensual?” you don't think you can go further; you've been dancing since midnight.
“sensual?” he articulates, thoughtful.
“kai always says...” you stop when his eyes stop looking at a part of your body and move into your eyes.
“d'you want to be sensual for kai?”
you get stiff, “i-i do not.” you huff, and he sneers. “i'm not keeping up with the black swan. be honest with me.” you ask when he makes a gesture to speak.
“you look dainty.”
“it's not the same as sensual...-”
“it's not that you're not sensual, you should be more chaotic.”
you frown. “the black swan should drive the prince crazy with love, so she can poison his judgment,” he pronounces as he walks towards you. his expression remains serene, almost derivative, and irresistible to look away. “you need to seduce me.”
he stops and fix one of your straps. you follow the sensation of his touch, cupping your right cheek as his thumb stroke you gently. your eyes flutter open and your heart beats fast. haechan gaze at you, and it feels so overwhelming and magnetic that you can't stop looking at his brown orbs, trapped in a spell.
he smiles, “see? am i seducing you now?” he says softly. “seduce me, angel.”
“i can't... i can't do that.” your mind feels fuzzy when his eyes sweep your lips.
“why?”
“i wouldn't know how.”
“have you ever touched yourself?” he prompts, wild eyes widening when you skip a beat. “no?” his fingers grab your chin and force you to look at him, with no escape from his gaze spilling on you as his figure towers yours.
“i just —i've never felt the need...”
“you're really a little angel, huh?”
your face lights up, your eyes flicker from the intensity of his eyes, but you can't stop looking at him, it's impossible for your gaze not to burn when you're looking directly at the sun.
your breath freezes when you feel him playing with the strap of your shirt. a whiplash tingles your skin and awakens your senses when he lets go of the fabric. haechan bites his lip as he sees yours half-open in surprise and shame. “try it tonight.” the spell you're trapped in, lost in his soft touches, and alluring scent is broken when the room begins to fill up.
you bite your lip before you pronounce, “h-how?” your neck looks like it's about to burn and your chest flaps to explode when you see him smile mischievously.
you're so certain, in that moment, that you'd do anything he'd ask if only to be rewarded with that gentle smile lighting up his eyes akin to stars hidden in the dark expanse of the ether.
“you'll know how.” eyes taking on a jovial emotion. “just think of me while you're at it.”
à­šâ™Ąà­§
haechan's pov.
haechan is fucked. he knows it. it is in his nature to want and satisfy the hunger that moved him. unimaginable things in the name of desire. in his wake, sighs, and broken hearts follow him.
he's nothing but obsessive.
the thing is, haechan couldn't find a way to stop hanging around you. an invisible energy attracted him like magnetism, and he always ended up within a few centimeters of your body. he couldn't put into words when he wanted to sink his teeth into you, mark you while he makes you his own. he knew it could be felt buzzing through his pores. and you were so naĂŻve to notice that every time you touched, the bulge in his pants hurt, restrained.
of course he would leave his hands on your back longer, making you grind against him. he was a complete sadistic pervert, getting excited every time you trembled. shit, he lusts after you. it's almost impossible for him to think clearly, driven by desire pulling him towards you.
walking at night as if it's the one who should be afraid of you. looking so fragile, why do you always look like someone beat you to death? so ethereally and mortally pretty. shying away every time he makes a move.
he takes you to your apartment with one thing in mind: to see that pretty face twist with pleasure when he penetrates you hard. but everything takes a drastic change when your eyes sparkle in amusement, before he hears your soft voice “won't it be dangerous on your way home?”
he gribs. he wants to eat that smile. and he craves, equally, for you to eat his, to see your lips in other places of his body. he buzzes, “i was hoping not.”
gosh, you're a bane for sure.
it is pleasurable and at the same time painful to see you so ignorant and oblivious to him. he wants to roll his eyes and sigh in exasperation as you dodge every single signal his eyes send. should he be explicit? would you like that?
he leaves your place with an erection hurting from being released. his irritation almost fades when he hears you sigh under your breath when he picks up his helmet and you find yourself on his way, your vanilla scent cluttering his senses.
he almost feels sorry for the men who have run into you, seeing the panorama that awaits them. surely you dissemble and act it out most of the time. haechan can't believe you're so naĂŻve and pathetic. kai's intentions can be seen from the tallest skyscraper in the city and is obviously everyone's knowledge; girls don't shine if he doesn't give them the spotlight.
“since you're worried about the piece and kai. i thought i'd fix both.” he shrugs, wanting to affect you. his thumb grabs your chin in a condescending way. “and because we're partners, take it as a favor.”
favors? he can think of several, yes. with you helping him with some of his distress.
“will i have to return it back to you?”
“not right now, but yes.”
he fucks someone that night until he aches. a girl who bumped into him in a bar, academia, or on the way to the elevator. sex comes easy for him. and they usually come for more, but haechan gets bored quickly. he's bond to lust life, but he dispatches everyone right away when they become attached.
he scoffs, you wouldn't last long in his head if you could without going insane. the reason he gives you so much thought is because he needs to find a way to get you to agree to him taking you to bed, it shouldn't be that hard when you're already drooling over him. in his mind, everything is twisted and wicked. you don't know what he's hiding every time he smiles at you; he has imagined you many times naked and spread for him in his bed. he's not fond of exhibitionism but he'd fuck you in front of people if you're into that.
his eyes have been memorizing your figure when you don't realize it. the curve of your breasts, your butt, your waist and legs, the shape of your lips. fuck. he can't believe he's thinking about your pretty face contorted with pleasure as he penetrates you hard.
he cums just from thinking of you saying his name. the girl begins to dress up and haechan omits to look at her as he obnoxiously leaves the room and walks down the empty hallway of the academy. stopping when he hears music from the empty classroom.
of course you ignore his presence. it's your quality to be everywhere but where you should. immersed in the dance until you stop for a drink of water and finally see him. your doe eyes opening, dumbfounded.
he can't hide the lascivious desire poured into his gaze, as he prompts you, “show me.”
he finds the setting quite alluring, and fury crackles down his neck as he imagines other men having the same thoughts he has when he sees you dancing like you're made of cotton. touching his lips when they feel sensitive due to the desire he has to rest them on your thighs.
of course he's going to say off-line comments if you keep falling for each one of them. you look pretty like a frightened deer when you get flustered. he likes to know it's because of him.
“kai always says...” that damn name. he feels a murderous calm covering his body. he doesn't want to, he refuses to let that scum even breathe near you.
you're his. no one else's. not even the men you've had before him; he plans to have you all to himself.
“seduce me, angel.”
“i wouldn't know how.”
look at you. not knowing how to seduce him. he wants to know if this façade works with everybody, or is it just with him. or perhaps, you do not know that you do it without realizing it. he's seen you and caught you looking at his muscles, and his lips and he's lost count, just as he has done with his.
all this would be annoying to him if he didn't like the idea of teaching you.
he wants the white swan to be corrupted.
and he'd like to do it himself. he dreams of you crying for him as he fucks you senseless. he can see your face in his mind becoming more and more tense and repressive as he whispers in your ear everything he plans to do to you, the positions he wants to put you in right now when you look at him so innocently. but he's afraid you'll run away in terror, so he's happy to imagine you, for now.
à­šâ™Ąà­§
were you really going to do it?
the night sounds die out under the murmur of the city and the pumping of your heart.
your fingers go down, under your underwear, and the mere gesture makes your breathing shallow. you barely register the murmur of your roommate's music in the next room, muffling your sighs as your digits find the valley of your intimacy.
the slight touch causes you to fists the sheet. feeling how wet you are, just from his words, still hovering over your head like in a spell. your fingers rubbed your clit, small gasps falling from your mouth, ecstatic. circling the bulge to the beat of your heart. eyes shut tight. an electric wave washing you over, and you moan.
your hand cover your mouth as you let yourself be carried away by the wave of pleasure that shakes you. the sweet motion making you bite your lips and muffle your grunts on your palm.
the fleeting image of haechan going down on you makes you catalytic and erratic. something stirs in your belly and you speed up the movement, a pit opens up in your stomach and sucks you deliciously. you want it to be his fingers. soft and thick, entering your femininity, holding you tight, spreading you for him.
desire is almost extinguished and it is little for the craving that plagues you, inserting two fingers that makes your eyes roll as you feel your intimacy burn. gasping for his name, while you squirm.
your hand slides out of your mouth as you pump your fingers in and out, stretching your gummy walls and imagining it's him who fucks you this good, after you made room for his cock in your glistening pussy, making squelching sounds every time you slide your digits back and forth. stargazing. buzzing.
incessant sighs and moans slips from your lips, totally lost in the pleasure of bothering to be silent. the murmur in the next room stops and you don't care, you've lost your mind. filling the quiet room with your desperate whines. you fantasize about your hand being replaced by haechan's, his fingers going in and out of your pussy, touching the exact point to touch the sky with your fingers. his mouth going down, biting, licking.
you can imagine him with his dark hair as night and his eyes like two stars that don't leave your eyes as he makes a path of kisses from your ribs to the valley of your pussy. you can fleetingly feel his kisses on your thighs and his fingers burying in them to spread you open and have a look at your digits thrusting you nice before he replaces them with his shaft.
each thrust his name spilling from your mouth, each flick of his tongue a moan filling the air. your legs spread open, imagined his fingers touching your sweet spot, over and over again. the devastating climax breaking free, your moves becoming more erratic, dancing with your walls clenching around them. a sweet burning remaining in your entrance.
a sedative effect covers your limbs while you see the ceiling of your room disappear and reveal the night sky, starless because they're all in his gaze. regaining your breath as you keep stocking your entrance, squirming from sensitivity. and eager for more.
eager for him.
à­šâ™Ąà­§
kai pinches one of your cheeks a little harder and delights in the uncomfortable grimace that creases your face before you pull yourself together almost instantly. “well, look at that. tu scintilles comme une Ă©toile.” his eyes scan you from head to toe just as haechan breath hits your shoulder, moving closer. “enlighten us once more, golden couple.”
(you sparkle like a star)
keeping up is harder when your body buzzes every time you do it. loaded with energy that overflows through your pores. pure and raw desire. you're embarrassed by how much you long for him to touch you longer when the music stops abruptly.
“thanks for joining us, darling.” kai's voice comes from all sides until you recover from the overwhelming dizziness, watching the girl walk in unapologetically.
“sorry. i slept in.”
you're aware when kai tries to keep the annoyance at bay. he usually doesn't exploit his dark side in first presentations. “you're dismissed for today! see you at the evening. wongyoung, warm up. the rest, take up from above.” the young man gives instructions left and right, that it's hard for you to follow the thread if it weren't for haechan pushing you towards the exit.
you follow him, his broad, sculpted back swaying to the sound of his footsteps. he's enigmatic, everything he does is appealing to you, magnetic. you find yourself almost enraptured by so little, it's very pathetic and at the same time difficult not to be.
“you're cute,” he declares all of a sudden.
his view detaches from the group of ballerinas dancing in a hall.
“why?” you can't find the reason behind it, you can't really fully understand the image he has of you in his head. “i know i'm not very talkative... and i'm a little self-conscious...”
“and you stutter when you talk.... especially when you get nervous... which happens very often.”
“i-i,” you shut up and his eyes glint like elusive fireflies. “have you never been nervous?” you ask, rhetoric.
he denies, “not many things make me nervous, no,” he confesses, “perhaps very, very pretty girls.” he admires when you blush. “although that's not the reason,” he says, watching the night lights outside the academy. “you haven't looked me in the eye all night. maybe it's because you think you'd reveal something in them if you do. something you've done and think you shouldn't have. do you feel guilty, little angel?”
his statement only leaves you dizzy and speechless. the air becomes dense and difficult to suck in. your mouth opens in a last-ditch attempt to fill your lungs, dumbfounded. “is it because you did what i asked you to do?”
faced with the little oxygen that rises to your brain, you nod without thinking. haechan smiles openly, a chaotic emotion in his grin. “and you haven't looked at me because you're consumed by the shame of thinking about me while you were doing it.” he states, more affirmation than a question. something you don't bother to deny because you're so busy, on the verge of a breakdown.
he likes to know that you've touched yourself thinking about him and you wonder how far his perverse pulse can go.
“did you like it?” if you happen to panic, haechan ignores it with honor, approaching you to arrange a strand of hair. “thinking of me, touching you? would you like that, angel? d'you want me to?”
your eyes close when the emotions are too strong for you. his touch fades away and is almost painful.
you hear him sneer like he's holding back himself. “you've never been touched like this, have you?” his glowing eyes demand a response that strangles in your throat. “not even by yourself.” his voice comes out hesitantly as if it had barely occurred to him just now. “you sigh every time i brush against you in the dance piece. is it rude for me to think you're a virgin?” he coaxes, breathing artificially.
he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look at him. “haechan... please...” it's painful to look at him, shame crowds in your stomach, to be seen that way. undesirable.
“so you've never been on a date?” he inquires. “have you had a boyfriend, angel?” he grabs you by the chin as a devil grin spreads across his angelic face. you see him bite his lip, thoughtful. “would it be disrespectful to tell you my favor, then? can it scare you?”
your desire to know is greater than your desire to run away from him and his gaze full of wild amusement. you close your eyes when his burns.
your insides melt and tingle. thousands of butterflies hatching and flapping their wild wings in your guts. you think the dance has gone magnificently because of that. and now you need to know. what he thinks of you when he sees you. what he thinks of you when you're not around. when he's alone in his room. when he's lost in your head. you want to know if you don't leave his thoughts like he doesn't leave yours. “use your pretty voice.”
your eyes open to see him curl his lips, dazzling eyes lost in his thoughts.
“tell me...”
haechan's entertained. you see him having fun when he says, “here, in front of the whole world? i'd rather show you.” he comes closer, and his scent is intoxicating, he smells aromatic, soft and warm leather trail when he moves to your ear. “d'you want me to show you, angel? how much i want to run my tongue all over your body now? make you tremble, and sigh? bite your thighs, and your belly? taste you?”
your eyes flutter from the overdose of images that fill your mind. it (he) makes you dizzy to the point that you have to hold on to his shoulders. “make you scream my name before i make it choke in your mouth?” it overwhelms you when you feel him smelling you.
something soft and silky runs down your stomach and you feel your legs numb, squeezed together. “haechan...”
he lets out a long chuckle, “yeah, just like that.” his voice comes out hoarse and laborious.
your body tingles to feel his touch where you need it. your senses are in an uproar and over the place and there isn't an ounce of judgment right now that forces you to think clearly because haechan has lit a flame within you that threatens to consume you whole if you don't extinguish it.
“do you
 want me?”
“of course i do, angel. i want you so bad.”
haechan waits for you to respond, drunk from the sensations on the surface. surprised by how much you long for him too. “i want you too.”
you can almost feel the ghost of his smile brushing against the base of your neck. it takes your breath away, to look at him so closely. moles and beauty marks dotting his face that you now take the courage to admire, and you helplessly think, you've been a fool to wait so long.
he has long lashes as well as long hair. and soft bags under his eyes that fluff up when his face lights up, all the time. his gaze is the same as the coffee charged in the mornings. sober, energizing and bitter, but... but if he wishes, it can be hot chocolate, warm, sweet, soft; you want him to be soft. his whole face looks like a work of art, meticulously carved like one of those works in marble, like an angel. with full cheeks and lips in an eternal pout, and good-boy features; your neck burns knowing he's not.
“i'd
” oh, no. the words come out before you can stop your stupid mouth from revealing your thoughts.
his eyebrows shoot upwards, attentively. “all ears.”
“i'd like you to kiss me.”
you can breathe properly when his playful gaze leaves yours, but you feel like you're carrying the weight of the world again when it lingers on your lips, and then he wets his own. “granted.”
his mouth feels warm and soothing. skilled motion adjusting to yours like pieces of a puzzle. haechan takes his time. you see him trying to hold back, hands cupping your face as if he knows you'll run away if he doesn't. until his lips venture to move pursing onto you, caressing you in a kiss.
he eases his lips brushing yours, it feels like torture. moving his mouth skillfully, leaving you dazed and static, falling into an abyss. your emotions get tangled. the sensations explode and bristle your skin as you feel him moving his mouth over yours. his addictive breath hits, his kisses become deeper, more voracious.
your mouths meet infinitely, moving in sync. it's slow, it's avid. lips fitting and adjusting each time he twirls his tongue against yours, clashing breath mingling in the space you take between kisses.
haechan strokes your back and you arch to him. you feel like dissolving as he cradles you into his intoxicating embrace and the taste of wine on his lips, musk scent lingering around you, fuzzing your mind while his mouth chaotically kisses you, luring you to the nearest wall to corner you and make out with more desire.
his body hums when you sigh against his mouth, startled by the soft collision of his lips, keeping you in a trance. hands roaming your waist and arms, fingers touching his tight muscles under his soft skin. hair soft and messy, cheeks puffy in contrast with his angular jaw, lined by your index fingers.
you flinch when he grabs your wrists, uneven and sharp breathing bathing your face. “pleased?”
it takes a while for the fog to lift from your eyes before you see him flash a smirk on his face. “yes...” sharp smile growing on his pursed lips, swollen and red from the passionate encounter with yours. “did you... did you like it?”
he nods, “very. should i kiss you until leave you breathless?” your mouth tingles to feel his again, but haechan keeps you in your place. “i won't be able to stop if you kiss me again.”
you feel your face burn under his piercing gaze, you want him so close. “i don't want you to.” you can't take your eyes off his, not when he seems to set emotions on fire to keep yours warm.
you watch him weigh what you've said as he lets go of your wrists and his touch goes to his lips. “d'you want me to be your first?”
your neck burns when you nod. “say it then.”
a sharp tingle settles in your chest, and your breath comes out uneven, just by thinking of saying it out loud. you don't think you're capable of doing it, you've never been expressive and being asked to do so is a lot to digest. but you want it. You want him so much it aches and your mouth opens... “i-” you say in an exhalation as he draws you to himself and press his lips against yours.
he kisses you with delicate caresses and deeply, clearing the pressure in your body.
haechan looks at you and reassures you. “hae...”
“shh... i was playing, angel. no need, hmm? let's go home.”
à­šâ™Ąà­§
the rest of the night slips out of your mind. flashing lights pass by at high speed, like an asteroid traveling through outer space. with your wild hair waving in the wind, cold breeze that would freeze you if it weren't for the fact that you take refuge in the warm space of his back as he rides through the city.
your mind feels scattered and dizzy, in a reverie.
with him coming up with a calm step behind you, boyish eyes wandering you. spontaneous, loose movements, leaning back on the door frame while your fingers tremble as you try to find the right key. haechan's long digits take them from your hands to take care of the lock. he sighs as doing so, ethereally.
haechan enters the space cautiously. he's been stuck in his mind ever since you uttered those hurried words, which slowly settled in your stomach and became real. you want him to do it. you want it to be him.
your apartment looks totally different from the previous time. you've been cleaning a lot. he knows where the couch is. his eyes rest on the furniture before looking over his shoulder at you. something flashes fleetingly on his face. a smile.
“my room... is this way.”
he makes a gesture, prompting you to walk as he follows. you hear his footsteps grinding on the wood of your old apartment until it ceases; he stops in front of a closed door. “is your roommate at home?” he wants to know.
“she won't bother us...”
a sly smile spreads across his lips as his eyebrows arch playfully. “bother us? doing what?”
“... you like to see me dismayed, d-don't you?”
“i like to see you, yes.”
you can't help but blush, you've taken a liking to the way he teases you.
a brief smile crosses his face, lighting up his gaze. “your room is pink.” his tone of voice layered with complex emotions and mockery. “your roommate's black, i imagine?” he opens his doe eyes when you urge him to lower his voice. “are you afraid that she'll hear to us? angel, how do you expect us to be able to...?” he rejoices when you cover his mouth. the unexpected movement causes his hands to rest on your back.
you let him go, biting your lip. you try to do breathing exercises to stop your neck from burning so much. haechan paces through your small room until he stops at something that catches his eye. the big, long mirror leaning against the wall.
“i use it to practice... my movements.” he tenses. it doesn't even fit in your room, you've had to make a bit of space and...
“it's in front of your bed,” he comments quietly. a sigh leaves his lips, “seriously, don't you know what you're doing to me?” he questions when he sees your confusion. his hand goes to his favorite part when he wants you to lose yourself in his gaze, but his ends up going to your lips. tongue wetting his mouth before bringing it to yours. “you don't know, hm...?”
he kisses you, intensely. wet mouth on yours, half-open and moving slowly. “i won't be able to restrain myself if you want me to be gentle,” he whispers against your lips parted. “but i could, if you ask me.”
he holds one of your wrists as he kisses you with agility, deep motions as he moves his mouth with ease over your lips opening for him, feeling your inner thighs burn when he brings it down his sternum and groin. “see what you do?” you gasp and he takes advantage to kiss you ardently.
his puffy lips leave chaste and moist kisses. mouths colliding and meeting in the middle. “touch me, angel.” you tremble. hoarse voice and in a whisper.
haechan let you go and you acknowledge that he doesn't want you to touch him just there; he just wants to feel your hands on him.
your body feels heavy. normally, you can't move your limbs when you're caught in this way. but you haven't noticed it, most of the time you haven't noticed how he melts when you run your hands through his hair. so you do, only to witness it one more time.
haechan breaks to kiss you harder. devastating and killer. with intense passion that clouds your judgment. your hands go to his shoulders as you feel your body move beneath his, blindly guiding you until your knees hit the bed. haechan pulls away and his lips look swollen, his eyes spill a wild feeling when he looks at you and you respond by sitting on the soft surface, between his legs.
you see him kneel in front of you, caress his face, and his eyes close in delight. your whole body feels raw, sensitive, and eager for him to touch it. feeling static as his fingers wander up and down your legs, hands grabbing the soft flesh of your thighs while his eyes drink your reaction.
you feel powerful when he looks at you, a gaze full of crackling fire that spills out when he opens his mouth on your legs. your hands grab his hair, and he moans. repeating the sweet sound in your head before his hands go up to your waist, suddenly hovering over you. “do you think we'll need wine tonight?” you asks shyly.
his eyes burn when they demand that you put your senses back to work. it's quite a process when you have to pick them up from all the places in your room after he's messed them up.
“i want you sober.” he towers over you on the bed. you have no choice but to rest on your elbows as his shiny chain gently pats your nose. “so you can feel everything tonight.”
he smiles when you gulp, “lay down.” his hands slide up to grip your waist and your eyes close, in anguish, doing what he says.
haechan is charged, his body seems to buzz when you feel him against you.
you're gasping for air when his mouth collides with yours again, pushing your body down, pressing his mouth harder. you feel gravity pushing his presence upon you, your legs open on either side of his waist, and your hands are caught by his and placed on either side of your head, with no escape but to kiss him back.
haechan moves unexpectedly and you gasp in his mouth. something pokes your belly. hard and big. your senses are stirred up and you feel your inner self dissolve, fog clouding your mind when he does it again and you feel a reaction on your legs, flaming hot.
when his hands grab the hem of your shirt, you panic. “can... can we turn off the light?”
the bruises are barely visible, but if he's this close, he'll be able to notice them all. and you don't want me to see you like that.
haechan pulls away from you and looks around. when he reaches out to turn off the lamps on your bedside table, that hard thing presses back into the valley of your femininity, and you gaze at the stars.
troubled senses travel to the moon. your mind is a hazy territory of disjointed thoughts, and density settles in your vision.
he removes your clothes like a total expert. you let him undress you completely while your whole body purrs with searing pleasure. exposed to his gaze going over your body, taking his time. when he prepares to undress, you want to help him.
haechan bears with patience at your trembling hands removing his clothes. buff, toasted chest that you caress in a trance, you touch his stomach and his collarbones, stifling a sigh. his heart beats fast under your palm, and you could take it if you want to.
your mouth leaves soft kisses, one, two, three. haechan smiles at each of them. his mouth reciprocates your caresses.
his soft, firm fingers rest on yours to help you with the process. “you're doing well, angel.” he kisses you as you lay down when he pushes you. you can't even follow the thread of his words by the gentle collision of your skins against each other, chests rising and falling, uncontrolled breaths when your mouths meet, and hands roaming across your body, pinching, grasping, caressing.
he touches you and you pant; only he has come this close.
haechan takes you to ecstasy just by roaming through your body. when his wet mouth comes down yours and wraps one of your breasts with his lips, tongue flicking on the bristling skin, your back arches in desire, trickling down your stomach.
he keeps you close to him. fingers barely running his nails up and down your thighs as he kisses you deeply. you hold your breath when you feel his hand touch you. he hums almost and the sound comes up tortured, “you're soaking wet, angel.”
“hae... please.” you gulp, “i want to feel you.”
his body jerks over yours after you talk. “let me stretch you first, hmm?”
your head pulls back when he inserts a finger inside. “so wet. fuck. you feel so soft, angel. will you warm up my cock?” he coats his fingers with your arousal, pumping them in and out.
your back arches, and he shoves them deeper, rocking them inside, making room so he can put another finger. “a-ah, haechan.” a breathy moan escapes your lips, and haechan coaxes a few more when he strokes your pussy back and forth. your plushie walls narrow around his digits as your legs try to close in front of his stomach, the sensations intensifying inside you, rolling your eyes to the back of your head.
a white noise whips your mind when he speeds up and you whine helplessly, feeling something sucking you from your core.
“i... i need you.” you cry when a sharp pain streaks your breath away and he begins to slow down, finger sitting inside your swollen walls as you throb.
he kisses you and pulls his fingers out. “anything my angel says.”
haechan fits in between your legs, you sense his penis lining up with your pussy before he pushes inside. when he enters you, you both choke a gasp. he needs to take the time to adjust. you think you hear him say you're too narrow. he wet his fingers and takes them down to your intimacy and you almost scream when he massages your clit with his cock twitching inside.
he grunts when you inevitably squeeze, sneering. “s-sorry,” you whisper when he licks his lips. “it felt nice.” he doesn't stop massaging the swollen lump, and you find yourself seeing stars every time your vision goes out of focus. his flushed face coming into the frame to gaze at him as you cup his cheeks.
“does it hurt?” his eyes are tinged with blue.
“no.” you're bewitched, when he smiles tenderly and moves in, the rest of his cock buries inside.
he breathes, and nuzzles more. “my sweet girl.”
your cheeks are moist and your mouth half-open, as he begins to slowly penetrate you. gasps come out of your mouth with each thrust of his pelvis with yours. you're in limbo, completely evicted. hands cupping his face, in a state of lethargy. “d'you like it, love?” he hisses when you clench, a short laugh assails him.
his eyes have turned black, darkened by the night and the burning desire that crackles with every stroke of his dick. “... y-yes,” you moan, closing your eyes.
he pulls you by the waist and your lower body sticks closer to his crotch, arching you to him. he starts to move rhythmically and you cuffs the sheets. the feel of his thick length feels delicious, and the deeper he pushes in the higher you scream. “hae!” you want him to go in harder, faster, deeper.
haechan curses under his breath before clashing his mouth with yours, lips synchronized with the constant glee of his pounding. your emotions react to him, the way he grops you as he fucks you. stretching you out smoothly and gently. the way he slides inside you without giving you a break.
“fuck, baby. f-fuck!”
your fingers touch his back, his shoulders blades flexing with each stroke. when he hurries the movement, your nails bury in the tender skin and he moans loudly. your whole body hums possessed by the most delicious intensity imaginable and as you feel an electric current run down your body, you scream. “haechan.” a cry after another. “g-god.”
his dick slams hard inside you, filling you with extreme sedative pleasure every time he hits your sweet spot. “you feel so nice. so warm and sweet.”
you muffle a whimper when he pushes deeper, “do you like it when i'm this gentle with you, angel?” bottoms out before pulling it out and repeating it. tapping his pelvis against you rhythmically. his eyes are tightly closed, and his pretty and agitated face looks distressed.
“... push deeper.” he grimaces and the very thought of having him this affected by your words makes your body tingle.
“fuck.” his mouth opens as he hammers you, taking his thick cock around your walls covered in your arousal. his arms collapse on either side of your body and pull him to you. “hae...” you call when you see him hide his face in your neck. you swallow, “is something wrong?” you're dying to know. doubts grow in you. he doesn't want to see you because he doesn't like what he sees?
“no, angel.” he says, tracing circles on your clitoris in a spontaneous gesture. his thumb hits the swollen area and makes you moan helplessly. “i won't last longer if you keep clenching like that.” he kisses your neck, and you melt. he strokes you faster and messier when you do it, “hmm... just like that, angel.” he tenses on top of you and you hold him tighter. “fuck, you're so sweet.”
his breath messes up some strands of your head when he shifts the pace. your legs jerks from the sensation as he strokes you a little bit faster. a whiplash runs through you while your numb limbs scatter on either side of his body, “hae.” you're drunk with pleasure, his name always showing up in your mind even then.
it's so blurry... and dizzy. feeling his grip on one of your legs, entranced by the way he moans as the knot in your stomach releases and drags you into semi-consciousness, fucking you sharper. a strangled gasp leaves your mouth when your body sinks into the sedative effect of his thrusts. “h-hmgh, hae!” your body tingles and squirms as an elongated gasp leaves your lips, feeling him too much, even when he slows down.
your heart thumps erratically as the white sensation takes over your senses and leaves you in a catalytic state. something else pulse along with your heartbeat. you swallow hard as haechan receives each of your spasms attacking your pussy.
he strokes your hair. “so good, angel”
your mouth feels dry. you feel a tingling in your cunt as he keeps rocking his dick in and out. “can i get one more?”
you feel the sensation of your high on his aching cock, swollen walls pressing his length. “o-oh.”
he revels.
his face appears in the haze, brows frowned. eyes consumed by his pupil darkened. your heart skips a beat at the view. “oh,” you seem to tense around him at the simple sound of his voice. “is that a yes?” a pleasant warmth buzzes in your belly. yes. yes.
you hug him by the shoulders as he comes to you and rests his face on your shoulder. the chill of the night makes your hair stand on end, but haechan warms you up with his slender and toned body; his skin still feels smooth despite looking carved. like marble. you cry when he increases the intensity of his hips crashing against yours. panting leaves your lips. “h-haechan!”
he grunts, “fuck, you're doing so good, angel. you're so sweet for me.” your eyes go to the back of your head when it's unbearable and overwhelming. the way he penetrates you with rhythmic beats that makes you sigh with fascination, enraptured and numb. hands making fist the sheets under your bodies due to his tip constantly pressing that hidden spot inside you, filling more and more the pool of pleasure.
your room is filled with lewd sounds and your moaning. labored breathing as he fucks you senseless. your eyes open through the mist that blurs your tear-filled eyes from the euphoria he makes you feel, and your wet, swollen lips moan his name between kisses as he wraps your legs around his waist, reaching your climax once more.
“s-shit, yn... fuck—” his movements become erratic and desperate, his strokes becoming rougher, tensing his body over yours as he loses control and he moans breathlessly, possessed as he ejaculates.
your eyes register every gesture he makes as he cums. his eyes closed tightly, his mouth half-open in bewilderment, his face flushed with pleasure, highlighting his moles by splashing his face. your mouth rests on his throat, which rises and falls when he swallows hard.
a loud sound startles you. haechan slides away from you, smiling in glee.
you think your roommate has heard you.
your body feels light and resting among the clouds when he moves you around. he shifts you at will, making you rest on your knees. you feel like you're on the verge of fainting. worn and smiling, looking at the reflection of your body and his behind you in the mirror.
“don't look away,” he commands. his hands push your body down by the waist, where he guides his tip back to your pussy. the lewd motion of him sliding it up and down through your sensitive folds makes you see stars before you choke out a gasp when you feel him pushing inside.
your eyes flutter and take in the night light filtering through the open window and spilling onto his sunny skin. haechan's eyebrows come together, and his mouth opens before his head falls back. he's feeling you. “shit.”
his hands move to your forearms as your body pulls forward, feeling the sweet burning crowd into your intimacy. he pushes you back and drowns out a plaintive moan, hissing as your walls take him deeper.
he feels full inside, he fills all the space of you with his girth. something flutters in your guts when you can feel him sitting between your walls.
he holds you right below your tummy and presses you into the lump inside. he grins and bites your shoulder at the lewd scenery of him making you feel him before he slides out and pulls back in. “feels nice?” he asks, staring at your dazed expression.
“very.”
he coaxes the most crumbling feeling in you. mind cluttering only with his sounds replaying in a loop. your body moves up and down just to hear them again, and your eyes don't leave the mirror, but not to look at you; to gaze at him.
he chuckles, “f-fuck, angel. just like that.”
your insides are buzzing. your belly purrs, as he elongates every word when he says, “just like that.”
à­šâ™Ąà­§
in the pleasant evening, you find yourself ambiguously exhausted and in a euphoric outburst. your body have synced with haechan's throughout the performance, and your muscles have recorded the steps in every fiber. both of you finding airless, the space charged with electricity and static when he slides your hands away and the distance between your bodies grows wider.
it's been magical all the evening. your body feels strange and at the same time pleasant and it's because of him. every time your eyes meet, you remind of what you've been doing for the past few days. his face showing amidst the haze, his arms flexed under your palms, features twitching as he climaxes after making you cum a couple of times before; every time he guides you as kai introduces you to important figures, you revel on the reminiscences of his warm body, his chiseled muscles and his gentle touch.
“how do you feel?” his breath makes your skin bristle when he gets close to your ear.
“good
” he grins when your cheeks warm up. haechan takes advantage of the absent-mindedness of the diners to squeeze your ass and the gesture makes you feel the small plump bury in the tight hole. a sigh takes the air out of you at the overwhelming and strange sensation expanding within you. “feels good?” he wonders, watching your face for some kind of discomfort.
you nod and he mimics you, eyes glinting. “how much?” your legs squeeze against each other at the hoarse tone of his voice. “very much.”
you've begun to feel your essence transform every time his hands intertwine as he takes you to the edge of the world. eyes softly darken when he leaves you hanging in space and brings you back to him, kissing you slowly. it makes you crave so much more.
you squeeze against the object inserted into you, expanding you. your stomach flutters with butterflies when he says, “i want to fuck you hard with it tonight.”
he doesn't leave your side as kai introduces you to important figures, fingers on your back lingering on your body, guiding the way.
the spell you're in is soon broken when kai arrives and drags you from his embrace, taking you somewhere else to be the main entertainment.
it takes you a couple of minutes to pull yourself together as you let kai guide you, putting all your focus on getting your breath to stop pulsating in your ears and stomach. to put out the fire that burns your legs.
it's not until you hear him speak that you realize the scarcity of people in the room he's brought you, the dim light, and the languid smile on his face. “mon magnifique cygne.”
(my magnificent swan.)
“well done. in the end, you do possess something in you, hidden, of course, but nothing it can't be exploited. nothing i can't make it shine like a bright sun.” his finger taps his chin twice as he studies you.
“have i done it right?”
“you've done flawlessly. you've stolen glances today, precious.”
a smile falters on your mouth as you feel something uncomfortable slipping down your spine. “will there be other performances?”
kai's eyes fall on you with disdain, “performances? yes, of course. swan lake is the most famous in the academy. many kill for the role. others leave it with claws and bite marks.”
you didn't know how coveted the position was. all the wary looks make sense now that you know how much they want your position. “i'll do my best.” his gaze rises to your face as if he hasn't heard you.
“you've done enough. all the important men want you. they can't wait.” he scoffs, “you've been the best swan they've ever seen, but another one will come. there's always another one coming.”
his words form a whirlpool that throws you off balance. “another?”
“you didn't think you'd be the swan forever, did you, baby? in this world moving at high pace? you're foolish and at the same time deluded.”
kai stares at your blank expression, completely stunned. his words have left you feeling sick. “you said they liked it... i thought that... you said they can't wait to...”
“oh, yeah. they have loved you, expressly stated. they can't wait to use your body as they please.”
the moment the truth comes crashing down on you, your heart contracts with sharp pain. surprise and horror form a dense, heavy cocktail that makes your body squirm and go tense. “you thought you were good enough and different from the rest? my precious, there's a thousand more like you in every corner of the city. you're as replaceable as any prop on the stage. your only function is to generate emotions. joy, sadness, lust.”
you don't notice how close he gets until he caresses your cheek. and he is so attractive, that you don't understand why your body rejects his affection. hands play with your dress, body turned to stone by his gorgon gaze. “are you going to force me...?” your voice comes out almost inaudible.
kai gets annoyed with your stutter, “force you? i'd rather you do it of your own free will.”
“let me prove it to you, i'll do my best.”
“they're all the best, silly girl. but you're being great so far, i can make an exception, everything for my crowd's jewel. i propose you a deal. if... you prove you're the best, then i'll give you the role once more... but if you don't, you'll comply.”
your insides crackle with the parallel of making a deal with the devil.
you see his graceful body relaxed as he chats with a ballerina. it doesn't take long for him to find you in the crowd, his eyes darkening in front of you. your inner self dissolves when his fingers intertwine with yours and he pulls you out of there. it's so easy for him to draw all the attention to him, make your whole world revolve around him.
his hand full of rings play with you on the way to his bike. “do you want to drive it on the way home?”
“won't it be dangerous?”
you gaze at him and you feel like he was expecting that answer from you. “it'll be fun.”
he guides you from the waist to the front of the bike and his hands put yours where they should go. when he pressed into you, a crushing current shakes you when the plump moves in. a few stars dance on your vision and your toes curl.
haechan laughs lively. “see? fun,” he states, starting the engine.
the drive home is full of potholes and abrupt stops on purpose. your core vibrates and ignites every time the plug collides with haechan's pelvis, and there's no use for you to not lose your mind when even the soft humming of the bike sends shivers down your legs. by the time you arrive home, you're so soak and needy you kiss him ardently as soon as you take off the helmet.
you let haechan take care of taking you to your apartment. he elated seeing you so affected and sighing against his mouth. his fingers tap the toy over your clothes and you almost squeal in pleasure. “haechan
 hmm
”
he makes you sit on top of him on your bed, kissing your neck while he begins to tap rhythmically the plump in your needy hole. you shudder and grind against him. “my girl's so needy for me to fuck her?”
he lifts you and works on his pants. when he releases his rock-hard erection, your vision fogs up. “undress.”
he remains dressed except for a couple of undone buttons on his black shirt. you take off all your clothes and stand in front of him, at his mercy, eager mouth wanting to touch his lips when he bites them, angling your face so he can kiss you deeper.
his fingers play with the plug, pulling it out of you. “my pretty girl. want me to replace this?” you breathe erratically. “with my cock, hmm?” he turns you, both facing the mirror. hands making you spread the way he wants you. his hard cock hits your pubic area from behind.
you sob when he starts to slide it along your folds. having to wait kills you while he takes his time covering his length with your silky lubrication. “eyes in the mirror.” he aligns it against your hole and starts to push it in.
a strangled gasp leaves your lips when his fingers begin to play with your clit as he slowly enters you from behind. he goes in and out a couple of times, adding inches until he fills you all the way in. “does it hurt?”
your eyes flutter. “just right.”
a rare feeling spread through your legs and it feels full. he smiles and closes his eyes. “move for me, yeah?”
your legs barely respond when you go up a bit and feel fire go down your thighs, sliding it back in, picking your pace. haechan's hands stay on your waist, helping you to go back and forth, adjusting to him. “don't look away, angel.” circling your clit and whispering praises as you're about to collapse from the overwhelming sensation taking over.
he welcomes you into his embrace when you can't take it anymore, totally carried away by the atrocious pleasure that plagues you. holding his wrist and making him go faster on you. “hae
 hm-mgh.”
his cock moves inside you and you squeeze your eyes shut. the pleasure is very intense when he thrusts you deep while playing with the swollen clit, and you soon find yourself trembling over him. legs shutting close when waves of spasms take your breath away.
eyes catching his fingers coated with your slick gushing out of you before a sharp tingling almost leaves you catalytic. “a-ah, angel.” you begin to throb violently making him a hissing mess. pretty sounds fill the room when you regain consciousness as he pulls out.
he lays you on the bed, and kisses you. “tired?” your body feels sleepy and a little painful. but it feels
 loaded.
you see his wild eyes gleaming with delight when you shake your head. pulling him in by the neck so he can lay on top of you and taking off his clothes. you wrap your legs around his waist to guide his erect length to your entrance.
your wrist are firmly taken by him, face lurking over you before kissing you savagely. your legs burn and your head spins as it starts to penetrate you. “my pretty angel.” you moan his name. “all mine.” you feel his smile when he talks.
“hmm
?” he inquires when he doesn't catch what you muttered.
“i want to be yours.” your eyes open to see his expressions bathed in uneasiness fleetingly. “make me yours,” you repeat, cupping one of his cheeks when his grip loosened.
you draw him to you and kiss him, lost in the clouds. mouths adjusting before merging into each other. haechan hides in your neck and squeezes you tighter against him, sinking into you.
“angel.”
“make love to me,” you say loud and clear. “please?”
“yeah? is that what my sweet girl dreams, hmm?” he inquiries, thrusting you slowly. “you want me to be your prince?” he mocks softly.
your eyes roll and he grins. you arch towards him and feel your eyes tear up. “please.”
“you're so dreamy.” he bites your nipple, “you want me to make you mine, angel?”
you say yes in a breathless sigh. “a-ahg.” he rocks his dick back and forth while sucking on your tits. “as you wish, my girl.”
and while he fucks you skillfully, white noise fog your brain, and you can almost feel it flapping its wings.
à­šâ™Ąà­§
you don't think you can make it to the end of the week.
you dance and dance and dance to exhaustion until kai smiles with satisfaction.
you find no solace in keeping him happy, you look like a ghost haunting the halls of the academy.
your footsteps lead you to the restroom, feeling sick; you forgot to eat today. you've skipped a couple of meals the past few days, but that's not why you freeze at the sight of your haggard reflection in the mirror, but the depraved word written with red lipstick covering all the space.
WHORE.
the air escapes you when set out to erase it, hearing laughter from the booths.
you endure the punches and you endure even more being broken into a thousand pieces. on your behalf, chasing the dream, until it's impossible to carry both.
haechan's touch never felt rough, but your body shudders every time his hands brush against you. your skin is sore, bruised, dotted with small marks that you hide under your clothes. you try not to squirm, don't let others know. they will see you as weak, you'll be marked as prey. and because of that, you try to cope with the pain until you finish the piece.
kai dispatches everyone at the end of the night.
you're in a trance that you don't get out of until you're picking up your things again at the end of the routine, numb and empty, wandering off the exit to see haechan on his motorcycle.
it's like seeing through a lens. smiling at you with his characteristic and diabolical grin, curving his full a and pouty lips, lighting his carved face. an out-of-body experience, watching the girl so much like you touch his hair, it almost feels intimate. just like you two.
wongyoung looks over her shoulder and smiles, catching haechan's attention.
his boyish eyes travel to you, acknowledging your presence. gaze locking for the first time that night, and god, how much you missed the soft feeling he causes in you, sedating your soul, completely consumed by the obsessive compulsion taking up space within you.
your lower lip trembles when you're left alone. you want him to take you home again, but instead, he scoffs, sardonic when he sees you crying.
“they... they have...” the need to tell him overwhelms you, but what do you want to confess? what weighs more? your sore body? the filthy messages? kai?
haechan sighs, disdainfully. “you like to be a martyr, don't you?”
your eyes are unable to avoid searching his for something you can sustain yourself with, but you find only annoyance and darkness covering his true colors. “look, angel. don't be stupid, i don't care about you. i don't like you. did i ever ask you out?” his honey-brown eyes search yours for traces of having affected you. “i only took you to bed.”
“why did you?”
“because you're beautiful; but so are other women, and i enjoy fucking them, i enjoyed fucking you, but nothing else.”
tears stream up your eyes and you can't stop them, “why... why are you so m-mean to me?”
your muscles have stiffened and turned to stone as you take his words in. he goes over your figure and snorts, “i'm being honest.” the way he pronounces it makes you believe otherwise. “you're making this a big of a deal, but the thing is, shit happens. you should learn to take insults the same way you take compliments.” he starts his bike, engine purring and filling in the space of your little response, busy trying to stay on your feet.
he doesn't leave, he gloats that his words have hit you good. and you find your broken heart more painful than your whole body bruised. “i'll just break your heart. i'm doing you a favor.”
“i never asked for one.” you don't want to see the sadistic and lascivious smile that surely crosses his features, you want to keep the image you like the most of him, with his lazy grin and bright eyes, burned in your mind when he leaves and the night engulfs him.
you find yourself in a world of shadows and silences when haechan behaves indifferent towards you after his encounter. he pretends you don't exist, his eyes turn away from yours as if he is disgusted to look at you. he repulses you completely, his hands pull away from you as if they are on fire, fingers flexing into a fist and unclenching as he leaves the room.
he soon returns to his usual gait that you had wanted so much to ignore. when his lips stretch into a smile typical of him and gives it to wongyoung. jealousy consumes you, clouds your judgment and makes you furious when you see her place her hands on his chest and corner him against a wall as she kisses him unceremoniously even though you have felt her gaze acknowledge your presence.
she’s everything you’re not. she's bold. and sensual and what haechan is attracted to.
it's hard to pretend it hasn't affected you. you think about it even outside of academia. you let the words he spoke set your mood. the way you dance.
kai's blank expression is more terrifying than his sardonic one. the live music is extinguished just by raising his index finger, which he then brings to your lips. “where is it?”
you're afraid you don't know what he's talking about, you're afraid he stares at you as if you have to know. “my swan, where is it?” he puts his lips on a fine line when he gets no response from you or haechan.
there is a tense and quiet atmosphere between you. you barely look at each other. he's grossed out every time he has to keep you close ‘til kai fixes your postures. he separates himself from you and puts meters of distance between you. he just looks at you through the mirror and you're aware of his features darkening with hatred.
“you've been doing alright the last rehearsals, what happened now?” he wants to know, very calm for your thrill.
you and haechan look at each other without thinking, before you look away. “again,” kai says, suddenly delighted.
live music plays again and soon you resume the dance. and it's impossible to ignore how he avoids you at all costs. how he looks anywhere but your face, how his hands feel like they're touching acid. he moves away from you very quickly and his touch barely rubs you, feeling the sudden sensation that he's grossed out by you.
the piano ceases with a move of his fingers and something crumbles inside of you as you have stumbled in the grand jetĂ©. “i'm done.” kai grabs his papers and leaves the room without giving you a glance.
you hold your ankle in your hands in anguish at the time you hear haechan steps echoing on the floor, leaving. it aches awfully, but nothing serious, you just landed on a bad angle. maybe you need ice...
“are you okay?” he asks, kneeling beside you. his eyes go over and study your expression, slowly replacing for other. “answer me. are you hurt?”
he checks your body with his hands without waiting for a response. gaze analyzing every part of it until it goes down to your ankle. “you need ice...” you see him make a gesture to carry you, as if he wants to take care of it himself.
haechan looks at you when you reject his touch. he can exert more force and carry you anyway, you're sure of that, but he remains calm and instead tries to convince you by softening his gaze. “let me take care of it.”
and the stupid version of you would've fallen at his feet.
“d'you want to take care of it now?” you pronounce.
haechan stares at you dumbfounded. his delicate expression bathed in trouble, frowning while his eyes flames with something. worry. “of course i want... angel. i care.”
you get up, shunning his assistance, but haechan gives you no respite. you are unable to get away from him when he is strongest and most determined to receive your hands in fists pushing him away and punching his buff chest. he doesn't move an inch. “leave me alone. leave me alone!”
he grabs you by the forearms and you fight to break free. “you're hurting yourself.” the anger gradually fades away, your attempts to escape his grip become weaker. you're about to pass out, “s-stop tormenting me,” you ask, pleadingly. “haven't you had enough?”
you see through the tears his face. his cheeks. his moles. his lips and eyes. but you find nothing. you don't even find love.
“i've been hurt, i-i... they...” you stutter when you start to cry, regretting it because you've said it before, and you remember that he still doesn't care.
you cry in front of him, in complete and tense silence. his grip has loosened and you hope he won't let you go, that he will hug you. “i don't know what he wants from me. why has he chosen me?”
“he wants your purity, angel,” he says, with a husky voice.
you laugh reluctantly. “well, you already stole it from me.”
haechan doesn't stop you when you get rid of his embrace. he doesn't do that when you leave either.
à­šâ™Ąà­§
the reflection in the mirror seems to be smiling at you when you get out of the shower. your face blurs in front of you by the foggy steam and your hand rish to undo a perfect scribble into a loosened word constantly chasing you. something lurks in your chest when you finally erase the message, an uneasy feeling as you roam around your room.
the feeling settles more when you don't see your underwear anywhere just as you hear footsteps on the corridor.
“have you been taking my underwear?” you peek into the next room to find it empty, except for a pair of black panties on the made-up bed. “there they are.”
you've been having brain fogs lately.
your mind wanders most of the time in periods that you have no record of. you have no memories of getting to the academy or how you end back at your apartment. no reminiscences of eating or sleeping. and you don't recall where you were the night before.
kai has become quieter as you and haechan avoid each other.
you can bear his presence behind you. is overwhelming, you feel leaden. “my prince, would you fuck this girl?”
you are short of breath and your eyes shoot towards kai at such an unscrupulous question. “you wouldn't,” he vouches for haechan when he makes no hint of answering. “i wouldn't.”
you bite your lip when you threaten to break right there, and your eyes move through the mirror of their own volition. towards his face, taking on a pink tint. “you're dismissed. bring wongyoung when you're out.” the air refills your lungs at his statement, moving your feet to gather your stuff. “not you.”
haechan stares at kai intensely, his eyes between you and him. a muscle jumps in his jaw as he looks at you troubled. “and don't take long, prince,” kai adds, thrilling. live music is playing again and his gaze spills over to you one last time before leaving you alone and helpless.
you're so immersed in his presence leaving the room that you haven't noticed that you've held your breath until your lungs ache from your shallow breathing. you're not so quick to register kai's entering the scene. you've let him corner you alone again, his indistinct gaze sweeps across your figure and even though you're fully dressed, you feel helpless. “told you it might happen.”
he lurks around you. “the question is whether you will let her take your role without a fight..., wongyoung is
 obscure. her dancing is not as technical and superb as yours, but it is definitely thrilling to watch. she casts the black swan wonderfully. with a dark impulse, maybe, yet so destructive, of course. she'd be perfect.”
he plays with the small ribbon on your shoulder, pulling the strings. your breathing freezes when he threatens to unravel and leave you exposed, “so, do we end our deal?”
you swallow hard. “give me one last chance.”
kai puzzles, “haven't i given you enough already? shouldn't you thank me a little?”
a sharp thump causes kai to curse under his breath and your eyes widen in fright, meeting haechan's darkened gaze through the mirror. he takes in your entire face, and how frightened you are. “costume fitting?”
kai scoffs, and haechan's glare becomes lethal when he looks at him, rubbing his chin in a stimulus. “seriously... can't you see you're interrupting something?”
“she's got plans already.”
“with whom?”
“with me.”
the young man remains silent, acceding just as wongyoung step into the room. “angel, let's get you home,” the honey boy asks, taking a step closer, his back turned to you, looking at kai. he peeks over his shoulder to cast a softened gaze that melts your stiff muscles and gets them going.
you work quickly, and almost automatically while haechan waits, prompting kai to stay in the room, his lips pursed in a smile. your breath thaws and soothes your aching chest once you leave, “easy, swan. the prince chooses the evil twin at the end of the piece,” he chimes before haechan drags you from there.
à­šâ™Ąà­§
haechan's pov.
he's out of his mind lately.
he can't stop playing the night he spent with you. your face. your body. the way you said his name so cute and ethereal. how you felt all night until you fell asleep, drowsy and with the prettiest smile he's ever seen, keeping him close.
he had to run away.
he can't come up with a name to this feeling creeping in; lust is one of his usual emotions, then comes pleasure and thrill. what could he then call emotion lingering through his senses every time he grasps your waist and a sigh slips from your lips?
it takes all the strength and will to spin his thoughts and continue the piece. when his whole being burns for you and his hands tingle and feel sensitive after touching you, fleeting from the room before you can see how troubled he is.
he never spends the night when he has casual rendezvous with girls, which happens a lot more often than he'd like you to know. he wants to keep that part away from you, he didn't want you to know.
and then suddenly he stays at your house because he's spent his time admiring your serene face in a dream.
now you ignore him in the gala and he feels physically bad. why do you make him feel this way? it's like he's the one rejected when you don't even spare him a glance. it's as if every fiber of his being reacts for you, keeps him stunned, and he doesn't understand why he feels vulnerable following you across the room while you avoid him.
“i think
 can we do the swan one more time like
 before? it's my last time and i want it to be... perfect.” you blush, and he can't say no even if he tries.
haechan can't get rid of the feelings; he has tried. you keep attracting him, and it torments him.
he strips himself of kazuha's caress of a crude and in a involuntary movement. “what?”
“you're pissing me off.” he doesn't find passion within him. alcohol is useless, much less get distracted.
he knows how effective his words are when she looks at him dumbfounded, “am i pissing you off? i thought you were bothered by naivety, have you changed your likings so quickly?”
he's growing tired. he has had a lot; it bothers him even more that he has spent hours cleaning a mirror that is not his and he does not even know why.
“have you done it?” he asks abruptly.
kazuha opens her eyes when he stands up. “the mirror
 have you done it?”
“what mirror?” kazuha's intentions to manipulate him by looking him up wasn't effective on him; she looks stupid. “no
” he could inflict flames on her by the way he was looking at her.
“don't you dare touch her.”
“her?” he's blind my rage, and her attempts to appear innocent were annoying him, and haechan knew that by acknowledging it he would indisputably confess that she bothered him because she wanted to look like you. and she couldn't. “i swear
 she's getting into your mind. haechan
”
his own name bothers him. “if i know you've hurt her...” her features relax and transform her into a demonic beauty, yet haechan is unfazed. “you haven't see the worst of me.”
his eyes look for you, you might notice it, do you? it is involuntary that his heart beat fast when he sees you coming towards him, and his eyes betray him, it has always betrayed him, when they soften. suddenly, everything inside him goes silenced by your presence. and it's almost your fault like it is you the reason.
in every chance encounter, his eyes seek you out in an involuntary reflection of the fascination he still feels when you get affected when he touches you, an indomitable sensation comes over him when he lifts you into the air and you slowly fall again, and your gazes do not avert when his seems to say everything he cannot express; the gravity that draws him to you. the tips of his fingers buzz when he catches your waist and burn when he doesn't.
“magnificent. my prince.” kai stops him as you fleet away from him and he feels the need to follow you. “seems like you know how to look desperate for her love.”
words come out like poison. “stay away from her.”
he's fucked.
he needs to take comfort right there. his palm pumps his sore cock and unscrupulously moans your name in a whimper. he fiddles with his slit and hisses, speeding up the movement. he imagines you doing it, he wants you to do it.
he longs to feel your wet mouth around him, your lips pressing into his girth, your tongue at the base of his testicles as he shoves all his cock inside, making you swallow all of his seed with your pretty pleading eyes, looking at him from below. seeing you keep stimulating his cock even though he's limb and turned into a bundle of moans and whimpers from the overdose of pleasure.
his breathing becomes labored, eyes bathed in desire that he tries to hide from your sight. “would you fuck her?”
his face burns and he curses. blushing is not a habit for him, much less getting nervous and avoiding your eyes out of embarrassment. what have you done to him?
he hasn't been able to hook up with other girls, something must have broken inside. and it's you.
à­šâ™Ąà­§
you try to calm your raging heart as haechan guides you by the hand out of that suffocating place. his back gives you some relief and brings back memories that you have treasured every night, but that was before. before the spell in which you're sure you would've lived inside eternally (even if it was a lie) broke.
the night greets you like old lovers, and your eyes close completely oblivious to haechan when he holds you suddenly. you find yourself dumbfounded, frozen as his arms take you in his embrace, and you smell his alluring fragrance again. with your arms trapped underneath his, unable to move as... he hugs you.
you want to keep this memory especially once you discover that it was just a dream. but it feels real. his touch feels solid, his signature intoxicating scent and it would be impossible for you to be able to recreate his face because he exhumes something heavenly. “hae...”
his muscles turn liquid when you bury your fingers into his hair just to make sure it's him. “forgive me, angel.” he breathes against your neck and squeezes you closer to him as he repeats a word over and over again.
please.
your face sinks into the space of his neck, lips brushing against his profile. leaving a kiss. his shoulders vibrate and a ragged breath assails him. he's... “please.” he's crying.
he turns away from you under your dazed state. hands roam your sides, as if he wants to renew the image he has of you this close. “i didn't know... i wouldn't have let him touch you. i thought... i... are you hurt?” he blurts out.
his eyes hold unshed tears because he's busy studying your features. his face is taken in your hands to wipe his wet cheeks. “no.”
his forehead joins yours. “let me take you home, hm...?” he whispers. “let me take care of it. let me take you on a date. i'll be worthy. give me... give one more chance.”
his hands, his fingertips... you barely remember them, but you always invoke them when kai's fingers stay longer on your skin. because his touch will never be the same as haechan's. because you want them to be his fingers and not kai's. a feeling twitches in your stomach, something dirty reveals itself and takes space as you fall into realization of his lewd behavior.
“would you... would you let me?” he says, and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.
his eyes... his eyes look like the emptiness left by the stars when they are not in the sky, because he has stolen them all to keep them in his gaze. gleaming, when you nod.
à­šâ™Ąà­§
your eyes remain close when the purr of the bike stops. a pair of hands lingers on yours intertwined in front of his body. haechan strokes them gently just as he helps you remove the helmet. your eyes taking in the place you are right now.
you feel his attentive gaze while yours wants to travel everywhere at the same time. “you like it?”
“where are we?” not in your apartment, but in a more idyllic place.
a few star beads have fallen from the sky and float in the small space of a clearing. it's very breezy and the lights twinkle like fireflies. your hands tighten around haechan when you look down at the cliff on the side of the bike; the view of the city shining like an oasis in the night blanket.
you hear him sigh softly. “the equinox... i thought you'd like it. or i can take you home. do you... do you want to stay?” he asks once your eyes turn to him. haechan is interested in the helmet, his phone, and the bike, and the sky while a soft pink tint blooms on his cheeks. “i'd love to.”
you see him get down behind you, pulling his jacket off his shoulders. “how did you find this place?” you wonder, taking in sight the people coming and going through the mountain clearing. surely it's a ceremony for the event; there are food stalls and places to sit for dinner under the stars.
the thought of haechan stumbling upon the place casually doesn't quite fit in your head, but he responds. “i knew about it.” which doesn't quite fit either, especially when he smiles and looks away.
you nod, blinking. “hae.”
“hmm?”
“why did you bring me here?”
he looks at you, with wide doe eyes. his chest spasms as he combs his hair. “you don't like it? we can go somewhere else.”
“i like it, but... why are we here?”
every second that passes you discover what troubled he looks. “i thought you'd like it for when
- for a first date.”
he says the words carefully, as if remembering when his lips uttered terrible things to you long ago. “a first date?” you repeat, looking at him.
“our first date... you don't want to? shit, i should've asked you first. i was... i wanted to make up for what i did, the thing i said to you. i thought i could make up for it.”
“hae, shh...” he stops when you cradle his face.
“you deserve to be treated well, i thought i could give it a try.”
“you'll have a lot more girls...”
“you're the one i want.”
you shrink, “'cause i'm a fool?”
“i'm the fool, for you.”
you place a kiss on his full cheek with your hands pressed into his face. and then another closer to his mouth. “i should've asked you before, i'm sorry”
“you can ask now.”
your heart feels a strange and singular beat when the lights bathe his faces and spill over his eyes; burned honey melting on his gaze. you watch him choose his wording, “would you like to go out with me tonight?”
you chuckle, “yes.”
a smile blooms on his face, taking all the light. “should i be more romantic?” he asks, snuggling on your neck.
“why?” you ask, fuzzy.
his lips lurks closer to your cheek, and he whispers, “i'm not good with words. i could show you, instead.”
he grins like an angel. “i could kiss you.”
he comes closer before you can react, and his lips rest on yours. they're soft, assimilating your mouth over his, taking you as he slowly kisses you. his lashes tickle your cheeks and you feel him move to come back again and kiss you deeper. mouth catching up your lower lip while you play with his long hair.
his mouth goes back and forth from yours. your faces move in tune, lips colliding with vast emotion in the space between their mouths, meeting in the middle.
his eyes are sweet like honey, and the little bags underneath them, swelling up when he's happy and his gaze beams. “you don't need to be romantic with me,” you say after. “i
 like you this way.”
the ethereal night slips through your fingers as haechan's hand guides you down the path, until you end up alone with the city shining in the background while kisses escalate in intensity.
your body slams gently against the fence and you stifle a sigh that haechan's deftly steals from your mouth. he corners you between him and the precipice, and little by little your judgment falls over it just as his hands caging you in his embrace as his mouth joins yours and invites your lips to move over his. he tastes like the sweet flavor of wine and something volatile, his hands running down your sides until he lifts your back off the edge to catch you in his soft, firm body.
your hands caress the nape of his neck and cheeks, fingers combing his wild hair and making him moan in your mouth. lips move down your jaw until they bury their head in your neck. haechan inhales deeply into your scent before depositing wet kisses on your skin and a sigh hangs in the open night.
his open mouth caresses your neck, feeling his tongue lash that makes you squeeze the material of his shirt. he laughs and the mere collision of his breath on your damp skin causes you to close your eyes and pant silently. haechan works diligently to elicit sighs in you, slowly losing his mind, mind getting lost in the space between the stars. his name occupies all your thoughts, slipping from your lips every time he squeezes your waist when he works wonders on your senses.
your eyebrows gather when the pleasure hurts to be released and he takes his time with you. brushing your buttocks so fleetingly he feels ghostly, groping your whole body when he kisses you ardently because his hands are never still in one place, wanting to touch you all.
the euphoria crackles inside you and his tongue enters and travels over your mouth. your hands draw him closer to you, unable to think coherently and humming when he pulls back and goes again. the kiss becomes faster and sharper. chaotic encounter in the middle before colliding again with intensity. you hear him vibrating against you as your hands grab him by the shoulders and forearms, chest and back, unable to sit still when your whole body buzzes and your senses feel fuzzy.
you haven't noticed when you've started moaning between kisses, every time his mouth moves over yours, pulling him to you every time. you feel his hot hands palming you over your clothes. “haechan,” you breathe as you kiss and kiss and kiss, and devour his lips and the intoxicating taste of wine makes you drunk. “haechan,” you say more eagerly, hearing him hum, but you don't even know what you want, you don't know how much you want him, how you want him, but you know where you need him the most.
“d'you want me to stop?” but the way he keeps placing his wet, soft mouth against yours, you're afraid he doesn't want to.
“no.” and you don't want him either, suddenly having an epiphany. you want him to touch you right there, you want to feel his fingers in your bare pussy, you want him to fuck you hard against the fence; you want him to corrupt you. completely consumed by the obsessive compulsion taking up space within you, craving to be free.
he waits for your answer, but he doesn't need it when you pant against his lips again. and a dark grin well up in his swollen, rosy mouth when he opens his mouth and restricts.
“i need to touch you, let me feel you, angel.” your eyes flutter as you nod heavily and his hands thaw to venture down the lower part of your belly, thumb tracing circles below your belly button before they disappear under your pants.
air escapes from your lungs when he meets the sore lump of your clit craving him. he curses by how wet you are, sensing it in your heated intimacy. your body breaks down in a jerk and you whine helplessly when he starts to stroke you, exerting the pressure needed to make you scream and collapse into his embrace.
your head falls on their shoulder and your body burns intensely as he rubs your clit, flicking his thumb as his middle finger flicker on your folds, turning you into a mess of sobs and strangled sounds he catches with his lips.
he coats his digits enough and moves to insert them into your needy cunt, stretching you before he starts to flick them just so he can take a look at your features contracting into a dazed grimace when the rawest pleasure shuts into your bloodstream.
haechan touches you and you must cover your mouth so as not to reveal his lewd actions in public. but you are unable to hold them inside you, and they slip through your fingers to find their way to the moon. you blink as an intense haze clouds your vision as he works wonders on your pussy and fire expands in your belly and spills down your thighs, trembling and throbbing. your eyes close and a gasp takes your breath away, skipping a heartbeat while he keeps thrusting his fingers, feeling you pulse.
“mesmerized?” he wonders when you start to blink slowly, your body going into a sedative state. “very.” your eyes focus on him, looking at you with soft eyes studying your face, and the volatile feeling stokes your belly.
he pulls out his fingers and brings them to his plump lips, your eyes flicker following the motion he does when he licks them as he locks eyes with you, “wait until i use my mouth.”
“hae
 please.” he brings you closer to him. “i need you.”
“yeah? in what way?”
your hand takes his and brings it to your lips, flavoring the remnant of your silkiness from his middle finger. you see his eyes darken with desire. “should we go home then, hmm?” his voice is soft, and lulling, yet he's devilish when he mocks as he kisses you, “so i can see you do that with me this time?”
à­šâ™Ąà­§
all the way home your body feels like it's about to burst trying to contain the ravenous fire in your chest, the tingling between your legs, and it's not until you get to his apartment that you let it flow and gush out of you.
haechan, light up your energy as he carries you in his arms and makes you wrap your legs around his hips, walking blindly across his floor that he knows by heart. the need you have to look at his intimate space is completely eclipsed when he sits you down on the dining table and kisses you with passionate desire. your hands begin to undress him without realizing it, honey-tanned skin glistens in the dark, your eyes absorb his soft, smooth chest as you run your fingers and he tries to calm his breathing, starting to undress you too.
his eyes shoot quickly to yours as you watch him gasp for air and then you realize how much lighting is in the room, exposing the cardinals in different tones beginning to heal.
you gulp, hands scrambling to put your shirt back on. “do you... do you want to turn off-”
at the time he says, tone of voice tinged with menace. “was it him?”
your gaze avoids his when you deny it, but he makes you look at him. you see him relax when he sees you so tense, thoughts running at high speed, “shouldn't you have told me?”
“hmm?” he insists when you mumble under your breath.
“i tried
”
you see the colors fade from his face and emotions crowd his eyes. “did you want me to take care of the bruises?”
“i wanted you to kiss them away.”
“i can do that.” he comes closer, and you sense the moment he presses a kiss in a touch-sensitive place. and then another. kiss after kiss, after kiss, meeting your lips in the middle, fingertips erasing someone else's. “no one will touch you, my sweet angel. no one will. i'll keep you safe. d'you want me to save you?”
you nod under his gaze.
haechan lays you on his bed. it's comfortable, fluffy and cold at the same time. he makes it warm and cozy for you. he spreads kisses over your legs and thighs, stomach and ribs. you must have one or two bruises there because your body is shaking, or maybe it's his soft kisses as he makes you sprawl your legs so he can have a taste of you.
you squeeze and shudder under his mouth working miracles on you, exhausted pleasure making you moan his name as his tongue stimulates your slit, fucking you with his velvety muscle while sensing his plump lips pressing right on your clit, brushing them slightly.
haechan leaves you wetter than you were, soaking, damped and shivering when he hovers on you and kisses your neck. “i've fucked people and imagined it's you. what have you done to me, angel?” he whispers, poking his erection at your belly.
your hands go down and wrap around his circumference. haechan chokes out a gasp and his pelvis jerks towards you. he laughs breathly, “hm
 fuck.” you kiss his lips parted and caress his wet slit.
he's hard as a rock, and already coated with beams of precum, has he gotten like this just by eating you? “yn
” he breathes, “yn.” he repeats your name as you work on his hard cock, stroking him up and down, mouth catching his lower lip in a kiss.
haechan growls and his eyebrows meet, a tortured expression furrowing his pretty features, agitated and blushing. his hot body on yours, erection pressing into the valley of your pussy as you masturbate him in a trance, watching his face contract with pleasure. “i want to feel you in my mouth,” you pronounce, pushing him so he can lay down.
he's so dazed he doesn't respond and instead swallows hard, head pulled back into the pillows when you straddle him and come closer to his dick.
your mouth is watering from ecstasy, putting it halfway in, and curling your tongue around his girth. haechan hisses; he tastes salty and sweet and he feels soft. you flavor his warm creamy precum from his tip, slender muscle flicking the slit, making haechan buckle his hips up. your hands are firmly in the groin as you push the rest of his length down your mouth.
“o-oh god.” his cock sits comfortably inside your oral cavity, it's thick, and you can barely get it in without not being able to puff up your cheeks. you bob your head and he calls your name eagerly, tongue pressed against the underside of his shaft. “fuck, angel.” he grunts and you delight with every sound you entice from him. pulling out his glistened cock once you need it inside you.
your eyes roll back while faint scream reverberates in your throat as the sensation expands through your extremities, and grips your pussy. haechan settles inside you and you feel stuffed to the brim, going up and down his hard cock. your vision fades to black, sensing the waves of pleasure washing you. your breathy moans and soft whines mixing with his guttural sounds. kissing his lips and grinding against him.
haechan feels so good, his girth stretching you out before you begin to rock back and forth with sharp thrusts. your eyes take in your sight blurring and darkening with desire when you see him close his eyes and gulp, hands roaming your thighs. a tingling drops in your stomach as he turns into a mess, a bunch of grunts and broken words.
you grind, and rock, and wiggle in ecstasy, causing moans that slide from his parted lips and constantly wet down his tongue.
the sensations makes you lightheaded, the rhythmically pace he force you to fuck him with his firm hands on your waist, feeling delicious. a tingling runs through you and embalms your body with a numbing sensation. cock hitting you without clemency as your vision blurs while you reveled from the way his dick stuffs you.
you move with rough and sharp thrust on his lap, dick sliding in and out, sensing your ecstasy building on your belly, vibrating each time your groin meet.
a divine sensation is unleashed in your stomach, and suddenly you are euphoric. you cannot sustain yourself properly.
you start to move with short, deep thrusts. riding him dexterously, your body contorts when you increase speed, your pussy clenches and twitches, dazed by the full way it feels, starting to rock involuntarily once you've become drunk from the way he jerks inside you. vision blurring when you watch him. your face contracts before the carousel of delight that you are sharing. observing him moan for you, closing his eyes because the feeling is so overwhelming, but opening them again because he doesn't want to lose an instant of you, drinking in your sight.
haechan doesn't leave your face. you catch him enraptured by your expressions and features, contracting with burning pleasure.
a gasp leaves your lips and your pussy clenches when he grabs you and one movement puts you underneath him. your legs spread and rest on each side of his body before haechan throws them to the side, knees together. a scream builds up in your throat when the crushing sensation heightened as he furrow his eyebrows with anguish when your walls wrap him tighter. “a-ahg fuck, you're so good.”
your head lolls back as you feel his cock hammer you relentlessly. heartlessly. fucking you with an unseemly frenzy, hearing him gasp and giggle with joy under your voice screaming his name. biting your lips when a shudder strikes you so hard, that you're nothing more than a tangle of haze and hisses.
your belly vibrates and the pace of his thrusts, his gaze fixed in the way your body crashes with his while he breathes almost artificially. “taking me so good, angel. you love how i'm making you feel? can't help but scream my name so delicious.” your hands bury in the tuft of hair and your legs wrap around his hips when he comes closer, back arching towards him when his mouth lands on your tits and you feel his tongue twirling against your hard nipple.
you feel numb and aching, crying his name when a sudden need to pee strikes you. a burning sensation spreads through your belly and groin, bringing you to the intoxicating sensation of climax destroying your body.
“fuck, s'sweet.”
a painful sharp pleasure fills you up when haechan jerks and thrust you sloppier, a wave of spasms runs through you as the destructive orgasm washes over you from head to toe just as he moans loud before he starts to throb along with your clenching.
he sobs, rocking his pelvis in and out, milking his seed into the condom. he squirms when you wrap your legs and make him bury his cock deeper, bringing him closer to you so you can kiss him.
haechan reciprocates the kiss a little dazed, his head hiding in your neck as he hugs you tightly, still inside you.
that night you dream of the black swan.
à­šâ™Ąà­§
your apartment is quiet. and outside, dusk falls for the gala. the door to the continuous room is wide open but no one is inside, and you remember, that today was gonna be your night, if it wasn't for wongyoung.
malicious whispers meander through, and you're on edge as you watch her in your bed, getting dressed in your clothes.
“what do you think you're doing?”
her gaze lands on you and because of the darkness you can't see her features, but you know it's her.
“i can do the black swan, but the white swan suits you perfectly, i thought that by wearing your clothes it might make me look more like you,” she talks.
you see her smile when she gets up. her shadow lengthens and projects on the wall. “how do i look?”
she makes you feel like you're in one of her illusions where it's easier to replace you; one where she is a better version of you, eager to seal all your experiences; she looks like you.
you look at her with a mixture of bewilderment and disbelief. “take off my clothes.” the uneasy feeling makes you shudder.
“why? haven't you done the same with my clothes?” she chimes. “do you think haechan will fuck me before the performance like he did with you?” she blurts out suddenly, pensive, looking at her reflection in the mirror “you're weak, and pathetic. you let them step over you.”
wongyoung turns on her axis to look at you, and you're both startled. she grins but it's your mouth that curves and then she gets closer to you, yet you're the one who moves.
“i almost had it.”
she grins, “it's my turn now
”
your faces blend when you fall to the ground, and time passes slowly because of the density of a black hole. wongyoung growls and glare at you from below, features erasing and drawing themselves under the fog in your eyes. she shines and becomes null, evolving in front of your eyes until she looks exactly like you, as you shout, “it is my turn! my turn! mine!”
her eyes gaze at you and she grins, before they close shut and her features go serene.
and just then, you remove your hands from her slim neck.
kai doesn't expect to see you that night. he curls his lips, his predatory eyes sparkle. “you're here.”
“they expect to see me, they lust for me.”
“and are you okay with that?”
“they just need the fantasy. i'll be their swan.”
à­šâ™Ąà­§
it's a delusion. maybe you've created him in your head, maybe he's created you in his. there is no more violent delight than to follow the path of the bead of sweat on his sun-kissed skin. his hair becomes more disheveled as he loses his composure. his eyes are like pits of black matter, looking at you through the mirror. half-open mouth with puffed, pink lips, grinning at you while he struffs you with his girth.
your hands went to the mirror in front of you, seeing your face disfigured by pleasure, with furrowed eyebrows and mouth open. the velvety feeling of haechan coming in and out of you, filling the room with your shaky breathing and the clashing sound of flesh as he hammers you. one of his arms crossing your chest while the other rubs your clit.
“fuck, angel. so pretty and ruined.” his breath warms your cheek and your eyes flutter as you feel him grab your body and move it to the nearest wall.
your hands hold on to the solid surface as you are crushed against his body, reveling when he change the pace and fuck you with sharp strokes.
your mind is wiped out clean. eyes closing tightly and teeth grinding at the crushing sensation of his dick between your gummy walls, enticing uncontrolled moans to the rhythm of his thrusts.
“hmm, too much for you, angel?”
you always want to have him inside for longer after you're done. to leave you drunk with crushing pleasure from your long sessions where he restrains you under him. watch him stare at your pussy when he's done fucking you, licking his lips as he palms his length until he's hard as rock again. finger you, eat you, nutting outside while his creamy load paints your folds and leave you dizzy.
“i can take it.” he groans and fucks you harder leaving you brainwashed with nothing more than the feeling of his cock burying deeper, making you rolled your eyes, dazzling, fuzzy.
a sharp tingling grips your inside and your pussy goes numb and aching. fire expanding all over your intimacy as haechan rocks his dick in and out, walls becoming swollen and tighter around his shaft.
a tingling embalming your body fleetingly to the release of your climax as he turns you over your axis and resumes the motion.
“it was beautiful
” you breathe against his mouth. your hands cups his pretty face and you admire what you do to him. dilated pupils and darkened gaze carried by desire. “so beautiful.” the piece. the dancing. his warm body pressed against you as you hugged each other. the euphoria you couldn't contain once you got to the dressing rooms and your bodies collided with needy hunger.
you find yourself bewitched and in a trance looking at his beautiful features. drunk eyes fixed on his lips kept parted and his eyes are flaming for you. rosy cheeks and brows furrowed with pleasure, with a mixture of adoration and burning desire. you content a moan when he comes and kisses you and his mouth taste like heaven, sinking his dick so good into you, your body contorts with fire.
your tears blur your gaze at the full sensation of his beautiful grin, so alluring and glorious, transforming his face like a fallen angel.
“hae,” you say in a dreamy sigh when he carries you and penetrates you at a slow and hard pace. looking at you with misty eyes, he moans hauntingly. “my angel, my angel.” he clenches his jaw, suffering a spasm that makes him jerk his groin, accentuating the strokes. he doesn't take his eyes off you until you see him frowned and roll his eyes alternating between fast and harder, becoming sloppier ‘til he explodes in white ropes of cum, nutting in you.
three sharp knocks echo through the dressing room door. “entry in 5!” you both stifle a gasp between kisses.
haechan slips outside of you and you behold him: sweaty and dazzling. your knees give way before you even think about it and you hear him laugh. eyes aflame with doziness and perversity watching you put his soft member in your mouth, licking his slick clean.
he hums and throws his head back, and you feel that five minutes is enough if you keep moving your tongue like that against his still growing length.
à­šâ™Ąà­§
you feel its presence everywhere. it has never left you, asleep and conscious. it speaks to you. it feels you. it dances for you.
“i always wanted to be the swan queen.” the reflection in the mirror doesn't do justice to her angelic beauty. your gaze searches for her behind you but she disappears.
“he promised me i'd be his swan.” her voice is just a mere whisper.
and it sounds like you.
something flickers, maybe the stolen star in her hands or white flapping wings. you're growing used to it; you've always had a space for it, whether in a room next door or inside you. it takes space, and sometimes, it takes on a life of its own.
she cries. “you stole him from me.”
it takes time for you to figure out who she's talking about. whether it's haechan or kai, the answer is the same. “don't make deals with the devil.”
she rushes at you like a fuzzy shadow, and all you hear is the same violent flapping wings, before it goes dark.
“my swan.” kai cradles your face and pinches your cheeks. his face lights up at an epiphany. “pretty, chaotic and obscure. where's my little white swan, did you kill her?” something squirms inside, yet you can get used to it.
you've latched your room. and it's impossible for kai to know that a lifeless body is inside unless he sent her himself and now he knows that if you're there it's because you got rid of the other.
but there is no body. and there's no blood. just a vast void beginning to fill up again.
“it's like i'm seeing another you.” he smiles proudly, as if it is his merit to have lured you over the precipice.
“she set me free.”
kai grins, “who?” all the girls he put against you? namjoo and kazuha? wongyoung? yourself?
the show was over, the performance was brilliant, and a tingling bathes you when wongyoung comes in your direction. “so beautiful, yn. you did so well.” she looks genuine. she doesn't look like the girl in your room.
perhaps it has always been you. “the swan.” one made and remade over the years.
your eyes catch him amongst the dark figures, wild eyes consumed with intense fixation. haechan comes at you and he looks angelic and dubious at the same time with his tousled hair and his distinctive jacket thrown over his shoulder, lips displaying a smug smile as he holds your eyes.
“ah... haechan. he's one of a kind, you see. he fucks with every partner he's ever had. maybe that's his ritual.”
“i know.” you grin. “some methods are darker than others.”
you need to make some enemies to crack your soul with blows, let it empty, and fill it with something more volatile. then, you let it run free.
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jihyoruri · 1 year ago
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍱 LESSERAFIM AND THEIR HOT HEADED MEMBER lesserafim x reader
★yn refusing lesserafims love for five mins 768k views
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↳ warnings: yn from paparazzi, idol au, yn being a short (for the plot) hot head, yn is the second youngest member
➩ CLIP #1 PLAYING
 đŸ“Œ
“- and that’s why I immediately take away people’s human rights when they say they don’t like ghibli.” yn says to the live.
the fans managed to get her on a major rant after someone in the comments said that they hate ghibli.
yn put her jiji plushie in her lap as she continued, “I’m not even joking.” she continues to read comments as they slowly turn from the topic of ghibli to someone being on the live.
“yunjin unnie is on here?” she asks as she reads the comments about the older member, “i love you.” she reads the comment from yunjin and looks side to side before ignoring it.
people in the comments laughs as yunjin orders the younger girl to say it back only to be ignored.
yn phone rings and she immediately knows who it is, she shows the camera her phone which displays a photo of yunjin kissing yn’s cheek while yn’s face is scrunched up in disgust.
“it’s yunjin unnie.” she says before putting the phone back down without answering and continuing to read comments.
➩ CLIP #2 PLAYING
 đŸ“Œ
like always in every interview chaewon sat beside yn, just so she can monitor the girl to make sure she doesn’t say something extremely disrespectful when she has the chance to get the mic.
as kazuha talked to the interviewer chaewon put her hand over yn’s hand that rested on the younger girls leg.
yn side eyed the older girl before slowly retracting her hand from under chaewon’s causing the older girl’s mouth drop in offence.
the camera zoomed in on yn and chaewon as chaewon tightly interlocked her and yn’s hands and put it in her lap as yn struggled to get out of her grip.
➩ CLIP #3 PLAYING
 đŸ“Œ
sakura and yunjin watched as the youngest members decided that doing something dangerous is fun.
while the girls filmed their vlog yn and eunchae thought that it would be a good idea to do something that might get them in trouble if they get hurt at the park.
yn stood on the swing seat holding onto the chains as eunchae pushed her back and forth.
even though yunjin and sakura should’ve been yelling at yn to get down they couldn’t help but fawn over how cute the hot headed member looked in her ear muffs and oversized sweater.
“I LOVE YOU.” yunjin yelled to the younger girl as sakura threw up a heart.
“EW.”
➩ CLIP #4 PLAYING
 đŸ“Œ
kazuha turned the camera towards yn who sat on sakura’s lap sipping her water, all the girls were tired out from performing the same dance over and over again.
she brought the camera lose to the younger girls face who just looks up at it, “say something to our fans.”
“love you.” yn says bluntly before going back to drinking her water.
“you never say that to me!” yells chaewon as the camera pans to her and back to yn who looks at the leader with a blank face.
➩ CLIP #5 PLAYING
 đŸ“Œ
the camera pans to yn who laid in the middle of the dance room as the dance instructor told the girls to take a break.
eunchae walked over to the girl and laid right on top of her back causing yn to groan.
“leave me alone.”
“no.” eunchae says causing another groan to escape yn.
“sakura unnie tell her to leave me alone!” yn yells to the older girl who watches the younger girls on the floor.
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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 11 months ago
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I wanna dance with somebody
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 22
Prompt: Sports
Rated: T
CW: some vague mentions of Eddie’s boner
Tags: No UD AU; Meet cute; Good neighbor Eddie Munson; Dancer Steve Harrington
Notes: @thefreakandthehair, @sourw0lfs, @devondespresso - SPORTS! GO, SPORTS!!!
Wanna see dancer!Steve stretch (and Eddie have a horny meltdown)? Check out the artwork done by @house-of-the-moving-image!!
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It’s still half dark and freezing outside as Eddie parks the van in front of the dancing school.
“Shit, we’re running late,” Max curses and bends down to straighten her neon-colored leg warmers for the twentieth time. “Just because you couldn’t find your stupid car keys.” 
ïżœïżœïżœThat all you gotta say?” Eddie huffs, but all it gets him is that bewildered brow quirk she always does when he’s being dumb. “How about Sorry for waking you at ass o’clock, Eddie? Thank you for driving me, Eddie? You’re the best neighbor in the world, Eddie?” 
She scoffs at him. “Ew, are you always that desperate for validation? Pathetic.” 
Eddie gawks after her as she opens the passenger door and gets out to retrieve her duffel from the backseat. That little gremlin! He should’ve closed the door in her face, left her standing out in the snow. 
Except, it all rang a little too close to home. The way she huddled on his porch, arms wrapped around her too-thin jacket, face set in a disappointed scowl. The way she barked at him to drive her to dance class because her mom had been home late and wouldn’t wake up. He knows she’s been taking odd jobs around the trailer park to pay for the classes, knows it's the one thing during the week she looks forward to. Also knows that her mom is too out of it to care half of the time. Knows how that feels. 
There’s no way he could’ve denied her. 
The problem is, she’s perfectly aware of that. 
“You coming?” 
She’s eyeing him expectantly through the open back door of the van. Eddie waves her off, fumbles for his cigarettes in his pocket. Realizes he forgot them. Shit. 
“‘s okay, I’ll just wait out here in the car.” 
She rolls her eyes so hard her entire head sways with the motion. “Don’t be a moron, they have heating and a lounge inside. C’mon.” 
*
The inside of the dancing school is basically just one long hall with a floor-to-ceiling mirror front at one end. There’s a counter in one corner and two mismatched sofas with a pile of old magazines opposite that. Max makes a dash for the gaggle of girls doing warm-ups on the dance floor, even though there’s no instructor in sight yet. 
“Oh hey, can I help you?” 
Eddie blinks. A guy has just materialized behind the counter - though the truth probably is that he was crouched out of sight to retrieve the boombox in his hands. He puts it on the countertop, cocks his head at Eddie, which makes a few strands of floofy chestnut hair fall in front of his wireframe glasses, and oh fuck, he’s cute! 
“Adult classes don’t start until noon, but-” 
Eddie barks a laugh and saunters closer. 
“Yeah, no. I’m just here to drop off little Red.”
He jerks his head at the dance floor. Cutie follows the movement and his face breaks into a smile so full of genuine delight, Eddie wants to cuddle him. Or maybe bite him. Maybe both. 
“Oh, Max,” says Cutie. “You her brother?” 
Eddie snorts. “Nah, just a neighbor. Her mom was 
 indisposed.” 
“Huh,” Cutie says. Quirks an eyebrow. Somehow manages to put an entire unspoken verdict into that little noise and gesture. “She’s real talented, y’know?” 
Eddie shuffles in his place, unsure about what to do with that information. “Um, yeah?” 
Cutie nods, eyes darting over at Max, who’s dropping into a painful-looking split in front of the mirror, and shit, when did she learn that? 
“Yeah. I think she’s got potential. Plus, she’s really come out of her shell these past few weeks. So thanks for driving her.” 
“Oh, erm 
” Eddie makes, pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to hide his incoming flush. “No problem, dude, not like I had-” 
“Steve!” Max hollers, and they flinch apart. Eddie didn’t even notice how they’ve both drifted into each other’s space, Cutie’s elbows bracketed on the counter and himself just swaying ever-so-slightly closer. “You done flirting, or what? We should’ve started three minutes ago!” 
Cutie - who’s name is Steve, apparently - takes off his glasses and winks at Eddie. Fucking winks at him. It goes ridiculously well with the pretty pink blush that’s blooming high in his cheekbones. 
“Sorry,” he mutters, raising his arms over his head and bending at the hip, does a silly little stretch. “Duty calls.” 
Then, he smoothes his hair out of his forehead and steps around the counter, pressing the Play button on the boombox. 
“Okay, ladies, here we go! One song for warm-up, just move around the room however you like, feel the music.” 
Some atrocious, boppy pop number starts to blare through the room, but Eddie hardly processes it. He’s too preoccupied by the sight in front of him. 
Legs. 
And an ass. 
Legs and an ass in fucking tights. They hug Steve’s form like a second skin, bringing out every muscle, and Christ, there’s a lot to bring out! Guy looks like one of these ancient Greek marble statues - if marble statues wore fucking Tears for Fears shirts and could balance on their tippy toes and do leaps and spins in perfect sync with the music, all with flawless core tension and a seemingly effortless smile. 
Eddie thinks he may need to step out. Take a breather. Throw himself crotch-first into the nearest snowdrift, maybe. 
Instead, he takes two shaky steps backwards and collapses on top of the nearest sofa, grabs a random magazine from the pile and fans it open in his lap to hide his very unfortunate predicament. 
It’s Good Housekeeping. 
Steve spins by, catches his eye and winks again. 
Eddie turns back to the magazine. Cool, fine, he always wanted to know about the ten best apple pie recipes to delight your loved ones with. 
He does hope this magazine is sturdy, or he might just tear through it.
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Part 2
All my holiday drabbles
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adragonprinceswhore · 4 months ago
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All work is 18+, Minors DNI
Aemond Targaryen
🌊 Colour My Mind, Bring Me Back
Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen returns to King’s Landing victorious after besting his uncle during The Battle Above the Gods Eye, securing his withering brother's claim to the Iron Throne. Upon his arrival, he learns that his wife was a casualty of a Black ambush, suffering a severe blow to her skull. When her disoriented mind wakes, she’s lost all recollection of him and their shared past.
đŸŒș The Way I Feel Under Your Command
Disgruntled, Aemond agrees to accompany his family on their yearly summer trip to Red Lake; a luxury resort hidden away in the ruins of an ancient castle. Dragged to a staff party on his first night there, he meets a young woman working as a dance instructor in urgent need of a partner.
đŸŽŒ Rumours
After a painful separation, you and your soon-to-be ex husband agree to put your differences aside and continue to make music together. But Aemond Targaryen’s vengeful streak runs deep, and you’re the object of his ire.
🍄 The Commune
A modern AU where Aemond, power-hungry and high on hubris, is the leader of a commune with a peculiar affection for the Seven.
🐉 One Whore’s As Good As Another
Desperate to prove he’s no mere boy, Prince Aemond leaves his taunting brother and seeks out another conquest. Momentarily, he feels back in control, until his brother reappears.
đŸ”„ Warm Me Up
When his wife speaks out of turn during a dinner with the King, Aemond needs to reprimand her indiscretions.
đŸșWhatever Interests You
You’re hired as a journalist to interview Prince Aemond Targaryen about his complicated family and their colonial past. Meeting the prince in person, he proves to be much more than the pompous royal you had imagined.
🏒 Sexting w/ modern!Aemond
You may be the one Aemond asks for when carnal urges consume him, but never forget that he’s in charge.
❀‍đŸ©č Soft & Hard
How do you forget about Aemond Targaryen when he’s everywhere you look?
Aegon II Targaryen
đŸ’« Rip It Up & Start Again
Growing up on the perilous streets of Flea Bottom, you’d learned that in King’s Landing it’s either eat or be eaten. When you hear from a friend that a posh rehab centre just outside of town is hosting an open AA meeting, you see your chance to infiltrate the elite of Westeros, hoping to swipe something of value from one of the rich snobs there. Unfortunately, it seems like the wristwatch you attempt to nick belongs to a man you share an unexplainable bond with.
đŸ•ŻïžTeaching the Unteachable
When all else fails, Aegon’s wife employs drastic measures to teach the unteachable.
Billy Washington
🚿 You’re Perfect
You ask Billy to fulfill one of your fantasies.
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sincerelyneo · 8 months ago
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woman | h.rj
“i hope you can see the shape that i’m in while he’s touching your skin”
💿now playing: woman by harry styles
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❯ summary: Renjun is selfish - he knows. He knows that he has no right to be jealous of Shotato, your dance partner, but he is. Because even though he broke up with you, you’re still his.
❯ pairings: renjun x fem!reader (ft. riize’s shotaro)
❯ genre: exes, smut, angst, idol!au
❯ words: 6.5k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, jealousy, swearing, arguing, slight angst, smut, dom!renjun, unprotected sex (don't do this!), marking, possessiveness, oral sex (f receiving), praising, mirror sex, hair pulling, creampie, porn with a little bit of plot, use of 'my girl', reader uses she/her pronouns, literally just renjun being jealous and sulky for 6k words.
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Fuck Osaki Shotaro. 
That’s the only thing going through Renjun’s mind as he sees the younger dancer have his hands all over you in your dance rehearsal. 
Renjun knows he has no right to be seething right now - he’s the one that broke up with you - but there’s something about seeing Shotaro in your personal space, tracing his fingers down your torso, and making you smile with every compliment he gives you on your technique that’s really starting to piss him off.  
It's not that Renjun has any specific issue with Shotaro himself; any guy in his position would irk him. Still, it’s Shotaro's love for helping others improve their dancing that only adds fuel to Renjun's frustration, especially now that he's volunteered to assist you.
As Renjun feigns busyness on his phone, waiting for his own rehearsal, he seethes behind the glass of the practice room, a visible vein pulsing on his forehead. 
“Dude, you’re practically burning holes into Taro’s hoodie,” Chenle chuckles as he walks over, a smirk playing on his lips as he gazes down at Renjun.
“Don’t be so ridiculous, I’m not!” Renjun rolls his eyes and moves his bag to make room for Chenle to sit on the floor beside him.
“Oh yeah?” Chenle teases, “Then what’s with the bursting vein on your forehead?”
“I’ve just been replying to some shitty emails,” he lies, hastily locking his phone and stuffing it into his pocket.
Chenle quirks a brow and gives him a deadpan look, “You had the weather app open.”
Renjun runs a hand through his hair, about to defend himself, but then he hears your laughter and his gaze snaps back to the glass instantly. 
Shotaro's hand delicately trails along the curve of your waist, before he pulls you into a graceful twirl. You laugh softly, the sound echoing in the room loud enough for everyone outside to hear. Your movements are fluid and seamless against each other, and it’s starting to make Renjun feel sick.  
What dance lesson requires the instructor to twirl and dip the student?
Shotaro's grin is infectious as he spins you around, and you giggle in response. Renjun’s not stupid - he can see the chemistry, the easy camaraderie that exists between the two of you, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. 
As Renjun's eyes fixate on the scene inside the practice room, he scoffs tonguing the inside of his cheek. Chenle follows his gaze and smiles, an idea popping into his head. He lets out a low whistle. "Damn, they're really going for it, huh?"
Renjun clenches his jaw, trying to tamp down the surge of irritation. "Yeah, well, they're just rehearsing," he mutters dismissively. 
“Just rehearsing? We don’t rehearse like that,” Chenle counters, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Renjun looks up at him with a scowl. He doesn’t know what’s worse, what’s going on in front of him or the irritating little man next to him who seemingly loves poking the already angry bear. He can practically feel the amusement radiating off his friend as if he's revelling in his torment. It's infuriating, but Renjun knows he can't let it get to him. Instead, he focuses back on the glass, his jaw clenched tight as he watches Shotaro's infectious grin and your giggles echo through the room.
“Taro’s cool, I’m sure if you asked him to stop dancing with Y/N he would,” Chenle suggests. 
But Renjun's got more pride than that. He's just about able to handle the teasing from his friends about his jealousy, and he knows that telling Taro to back off would only add fuel to the fire of ridicule. And he's not sure if he's ready to deal with that.
“I don’t mind Y/N and him dancing together,” he shrugs.
Chenle’s face falls flat, “Huang Renjun don’t lie to me. You’re jealous.”
“No, I’m not!” His voice raises to an audio level that’s louder than he would like, gaining the attention of some of the other members outside the room.
"Hey, man, look I’m sorry, but it's okay to feel jealous. You two dated for a long time,” Chenle pats him on the shoulder gently. “Honestley I’m shocked the two of you even broke up.”
So is Renjun - even though he knows he was the one who initiated it. Honestly, there was no good reason for your breakup now that he thinks about it - now that he sees you with someone else. The reason behind the breakup stemmed from Renjun’s growing anxiety that being an idol would force distance between the two of you. You had assured him it wouldn’t, and you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to be his girlfriend; still, Renjun figured separation would be the best despite your protests. 
He sighs, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude for Chenle's understanding. "I know, it's just..." He trails off. He doesn’t know how to properly articulate what he’s feeling without sounding like a hypocrite.
Still, Chenle nods sympathetically. "Just give yourself some time, Renjun. It'll get easier."
Renjun offers a weak smile in response before turning back to the glass. He doesn’t have his phone in his hand to ‘distract’ him now so he has to watch the scene in front of him, and his heart sinks.
He doesn’t even know how it happened, one minute the two of you are just laughing together, then he turns to talk to Chenle for another and as he turns back to you, Shotaro's hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin with a tender touch. Your eyes flutter closed, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you lean into his touch, your bodies inching closer.
He can't tear his eyes away, the sight before him a painful reminder of what once was and what now feels so out of reach. Renjun's fists clench at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as he struggles to contain himself.
It's not just the physical proximity that stings, but the undeniable chemistry between you and Shotaro that Renjun just can't ignore. The way your laughter intertwines with his, the way your eyes lock - it's like a dagger to his heart, reopening wounds he thought had healed.
But just as your lips are about to meet, Renjun's up on his feet and barging through the practice room door without a knock. 
"Alright, rehearsal time's over," he announces, his tone clipped and authoritative as he strides into the room.
Shotaro immediately pulls away from you, glancing at Renjun, who responds with a scowl. Despite the tension, Renjun can't help but feel a sense of relief as the two of you separate.
"Hyung, we've still got fifteen minutes—"
"We need to start early today, gotta prep for the comeback and all," he interrupts.
Renjun's gaze shifts to you. You're shaking your head at him, hands on your hips, your midriff exposed and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. It brings back memories of all the times he's fucked you in this very practice room. Apart from the physical closeness, the fact that Shotaro got to witness you like this - sweaty and out of breath -  infuriates him.
“That’s not fair Jun, we booked this room for the full hour, you can’t just barge in like this!” You argue with him, but Renjun can’t even take in anything you’re saying because even after your months apart, you still use that nickname for him. 
Shotaro snaps him back to attention, “It’s fine, Y/N, we can reschedule for next week.”
Like hell you will, Renjun thinks.
You narrow your eyes at your ex-boyfriend before scoffing and heading for your dance bag, tossing it on your shoulder and heading to the exit. You make sure to slam your shoulder into his body as you pass him, muttering how much you hate him under your breath. 
Shotaro’s about to follow your lead, hoisting his own bag over his shoulder, but Renjun stops him in his tracks.
“Taro, can I talk to you for a sec?” 
Shotaro nods, slinging his bag back down but pausing by the door. 
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Taro 1:25 pm
Sorry Y/N, I won’t be able to help you with your
rehearsals anymore, something’s come up. 
There’s just no way. You look down at the text message, confused. 
Shotaro loves dancing, he loves teaching people choreography and helping them improve, so you know there’s no possible way he’d cancel your sessions like this with no word of rescheduling. Glancing at the time on your phone, you realize it's Wednesday afternoon - around the time Shotaro usually finishes his dance practices with his group. With a furrowed brow, you decide to head over to the practice rooms to ask him about it.
After all, you liked Taro and his teaching methods. 
As you approach the practice rooms, the faint strains of music drift through the hallway, accompanied by a few stops and restarts. Finally, you reach the room where Riize is rehearsing. The door stands slightly ajar, and you pause, opting to linger and peer through the glass instead. Inside, you see them all - sweaty and breathless, a clear sign that they've reached the end of their session.
You're about to knock on the door when you hear Anton's voice from inside. "Taro, are you eating with us today, or are you practising with Y/N again?"
“I’m not helping Y/N out anymore,” he replies and you deflate a little. 
“Why? I thought you liked dancing with her.”
Shotaro groans audibly, then passes his water bottle to Eunseok, who starts chuckling.
“What’s funny?” Anton asks.
“Hasn’t he told you?” Eunseok interjects, casting a glance between them, “Taro loves dancing with Y/N, but last week Renjun made it known that he’s not too keen on it.”
Anton’s face channels your own, because what the fuck did that mean?
You look down at the text message again, and now that you look at it, it only has one person written all over it. 
You know your ex-boyfriend better than anyone, and just from the way he crashed your practice last week, you could tell that the dance rehearsals with his old group member were getting under his skin. You won’t lie, there’s a part of you that liked the idea of irritating him, riling him up now and then just to be reminded that he still cared. But you’d never think he’d go this far. 
“It’s true,” Shotaro confirms, “Last week he told me to hang back after one of our practices, and he asked me to
” he clams up abruptly when he sees you standing in the doorway, arms folded tight across your chest. 
“He asked you to what?”
Shotaro doesn’t answer. The laughter between the boys suddenly runs quiet as you all just look at each other. 
“Finish that sentence, Taro.”
He groans and runs a hand through his hair, “Y/N, come on, he told me not to say anything—”
“Tell me what he said to you, he doesn’t just get to make demands about me anymore.”
“It wasn’t exactly a demand
” he mumbles, “More of a request.”
You give him a knowing look, “I swear to God if you don’t tell me what you know right now Shotaro, I’ll—”
“Okay, okay,” he interrupts, “I’ll tell you.”
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Around half an hour after grilling Shotaro and his group members for the truth, you burst through the practice room of NCT DREAM. The air is hot and humid, and it only channels the fury that’s built up in your muscles since finding out about your ex-boyfriend’s silly little plan. Huang Renjun has officially crossed the line and there’s no way on this Earth you’re going to let him get away with it without a lecture.
The boys all look a mixture of shocked and surprised to see you. And you don’t blame them, the last time you were in a practice with them, you were happy, probably bringing your boyfriend lunch to make sure he’d eaten. But this time you’re angry, so angry you’re body is trembling.
“Huang Renjun!”
He turns around almost instantly, and instead of looking scared about your anger, he fucking smirks with that stupid beautiful smile you hate (love).
“Y/N?” He responds innocently, though there's a glint of mischief in his eyes that tells you he's well aware of the storm about to be unleashed upon him.
As you and Renjun lock eyes, a heavy silence descends upon the room, punctuated only by the sound of your breathing. Mark, ever perceptive, notices the tension crackling between you, and like a good leader he senses the need to diffuse the situation. 
"Alright, everyone," he interjects, his voice firm yet soothing. "Let's take a break, yeah?"
Because of Mark's intervention, the boys nod in agreement, gathering their belongings and exchanging knowing glances and whispers as they file out of the practice room one by one.
With the others now gone, you waste no time laying into him, “What is the matter with you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shrugs. 
You scoff, frustration bubbling up inside you. "Don’t pull that clueless shit with me. He told me what you did!”
His facade cracks ever so slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crosses his features before he quickly masks it with a defiant smirk. "And what exactly do you think I did?"
"Oh, don't play dumb," you snap, advancing towards him with each step. "You told Shotaro to cancel our dance lessons, didn't you?"
Renjun's expression remains infuriatingly neutral, but there's a glint of defiance in his eyes that sets your blood boiling even more. "And if I did?"
The audacity of his response only serves to fuel your rage. "Do you have any idea how selfish and manipulative that is?" You accuse, your voice rising with each word. "You have no right to interfere with my life anymore!"
He doesn’t look at all remorseful as he shrugs, “I’m not interfering in your life, I just figured Shotaro shouldn’t overflow his schedule.”
You shake your head in disbelief, “You’re unbelievable. That’s not your call to make. You’ve never had a problem with Shotaro teaching anybody else to dance until me.”
“That was before Riize debuted, it’s different now Y/N.”
“No, it’s not fair!” You snap, “You’re not being fair.”
“I’m just looking out for Taro
as his senior.”
“No, you’re not, you’re doing this to piss me off!” You groan, “So I’m asking you why?”
Renjun clings to the last shred of his pride, attempting to brush past you to grab his water bottle, hoping to deflect the conversation elsewhere. But you weren't about to let him off that easily. You reach out and grab his hand as he tries to slip past.
Your eyes plead with him, and he cracks under the weight of your gaze.
"What do you want me to say, Y/N?" He finally erupts, his voice rising in frustration. "You want me to admit that I'm fucking jealous, that I can't stand the thought of him with you?"
“What, if you can’t have me no one else can?”
He goes quiet at that and just looks at you, the silence speaks a thousand words and you can’t believe his audacity right now. 
With a heavy sigh, you run a hand through your hair, exhaustion creeping in. "You broke up with me," you remind him, your voice barely above a whisper.
Renjun's expression softens for a fleeting moment, a trace of remorse flickering in his eyes before it's replaced. "I know," he admits. "But that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you."
You take a step back, his words hitting you harder than you expected. "Caring about me doesn't give you the right to meddle in my life.”
He reaches out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air between you as if unsure whether to touch you or not. "I messed up, okay? It’s just, I don’t like the way he touches you. I guess
I let my jealousy get the best of me."
"Jealousy?" You repeat. "After everything that's happened between us, you're still jealous?"
Renjun's gaze drops to the floor, unable to meet yours. "I can't help it," he admits, his voice barely audible. "Seeing you with him, it just... it drives me crazy."
You shake your head in disbelief, struggling to process his confession. "You broke up with me, Renjun. You made that choice."
"I know," he repeats, his voice filled with remorse. "And I regret it every day."
You're torn between anger and longing, resentment and yearning. Honestly, ever since he broke up with you there hasn’t been a day where you haven’t missed him. You’ve waited to hear him say those words - that he regrets leaving you - but you’re not about to make it easy for him to just crawl back. 
You narrow your eyes at him, a mischievous glint dancing in them as a sly smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "You know, Shotaro is a great dancer," you say, your tone deliberately casual.
Renjun's jaw clenches at the mention of the name, his gaze flickering with a mix of anger and insecurity. 
"It's been interesting to know he's always there for me now that you're not,” you say with a nonchalant shrug, enjoying the way his irritation simmers beneath the surface.
You watch as his hands clench into fists at his sides, his chest rising and falling with each aggravated breath. His eyes darken with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine, but you refuse to back down.
"It's almost as if he's filling a void that you left behind," you continue. "But I suppose that's just the way things go after a breakup, isn't it?"
The taunt hits its mark and Renjun's temper flares. In a sudden burst of rage, he closes the distance between you, his grip tightening on your shoulders as he presses you against the nearby mirror. His gaze turns possessive as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. 
"You really think I'll let him have you like that so easily?” He asks, voice low and dangerous.
You shiver at the intensity of his words, feeling a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. "And what makes you think that’s your call to make?" 
A wicked smile tugs at Renjun's lips, his eyes gleaming with determination. "Because deep down, you know you’re still my girl," he asserts. "No matter how much you keep trying to deny it, you know you’re mine."
You scoff, trying to ignore the way his words resonate within you, "You can't just break up with me and then waltz back into my life claiming me as your own, Jun!" 
He smiles at the nickname again, and it gives him the confidence boost he needs to know you still want him, still crave him the way he craves you. 
"Oh but I can," he counters, his tone unwavering. He brings his finger to your cheek, tracing it along your skin until it rests underneath your chin. "Because no one else can make you feel the way I do. No one else knows you like I do."
His words send a shiver down your spine. All the good times you have with him replay in your mind and despite your best efforts to resist, you find yourself succumbing to the magnetic pull of his presence, to the familiarity of his touch.
"You’re fucking crazy babe if you think I’ll let some other man have you," he whispers. "Especially him.”
Your eyes narrow, he’s so close now that the two of you are practically sharing the same breath.
“And you’re fucking crazy if you think you have a say in my relationships.”
He remains unfazed at your rebuttal, his gaze unwavering as he leans in closer, his lips dangerously close to yours now. "Maybe I am," he concedes smugly. "But deep down, you know you still want me."
Part of you wants to push him away, to resist the pull of him, but another part - the part that still aches for his touch, for his love - finds itself surrendering.
"Renjun," you whisper, voice barely above a breath. "I..."
And before you can finish your sentence, his lips crash against yours in a heated, passionate kiss, his pent-up frustration and desire spilling over into the touch. It's a tumultuous mix of emotions - there’s still so much unresolved between the two of you - but you get lost in the moment. You melt into his embrace, and perhaps, just perhaps, being possessed by Renjun again isn't such a bad thing after all.
As the kiss deepens, your hands tangle themselves into his hair until it’s dishevelled and the lines between love and hate blur. It's a dangerous game you're playing, dancing on the razor's edge between desire and destruction, but right now you couldn't care less about the consequences. You can talk about all that later - after he fucks you. 
He pulls back for a breath, trailing kisses down from your lips to your neck, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body.
"God, I've missed you," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.
"I've missed you too," you gasp out as he starts to nibble on your earlobe.
He moves his hand up higher along your thigh until it reaches the hem of your shorts, and he wastes no time slipping his fingers inside them. “It’s been too long.”
You exhale as you feel his hand brush against the edge of your panties before slipping under them. He runs his hand through your folds as he looks at you with a predatory glint in his eyes before finding your clit. A soft moan escapes your lips as you move your hips instinctively towards him.
"You're so wet already," he murmurs as he starts to rub circles around your clit. “This all for me?”
You arch your back in pleasure, feeling a wave of heat surge through your body. You nod pathetically, not being able to form a coherent sentence because the familiar feeling of Renjun's touch makes you feel dizzy. He smirks at your reaction, then pulls out his hand making you whimper from the loss of friction. 
You know you’re fueling his ego with your whining, but you can’t help it. You hadn’t realised just how much you missed the feeling of his hands before they were being ripped away from you so abruptly. 
“You know, you never asked me for dance lessons when we were dating,” he says - almost accusatory -  between soft pants as his kisses return to your jaw, trailing down your neck. His hands slowly travel from your legs and past your waist, dancing along your exposed sides until his fingers are fiddling with the straps of your sports bra. 
You can’t stand his teasing, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned about sex with Renjun, it’s that you play by his rules.
“I know,” you remark, a little breathless.
“And I hated every time he would touch your skin, and how much it would make you laugh and smile,” he growls, gently nipping your neck and soothing the spot with his tongue. “I want all your fucking smiles, Y/N.”
You hold back a whimper as he sucks a small spot just beside your collarbone, a mark you know you’re going to have to cover tomorrow. 
“Seems quite selfish, Jun.”
“I guess I am when it comes to you.”
His fingers take off your bra, exposing your naked breasts to him. You gasp at the cool air making your nipples toughen. He looks up at you, his gaze dark and wild and sending a shot of pleasure straight through you. Not once does he break contact as his hands slide down your body, grazing your nipples until you shiver, and travel down until he is back at the hem of your shorts.
His fingers dance along your inner thighs before they trace along the hem of your panties. Your breath hitches as he skims along your clothed clit, not enough to be truly stimulating but enough to make you bite down in anticipation.
He knows you want more, but your impatience is his favourite part. 
So he doesn’t bother to hide his smirk as he wraps his fingers around your waistband and slowly tugs on your shorts and panties together, pushing them down until they pool at your ankles where you swiftly step out of them. 
The smile on his lips can only be described as feral. “So damn pretty,” he mumbles, “And it’s all mine, yeah?”
You smile as you shake your head. “Possessive much?”
“Maybe a little bit,” he smiles. “But don’t pretend that you haven’t missed that about me.”
“Bold of you to think I’ve missed things about you.”
He grins. “Deny it all you want babe, but the fact you’re the one naked right now speaks volumes.”
You blush at the revelation and the fact that he’s fully clothed whilst you’re bare. You turn your head to the side and mumble. “That doesn’t mean I missed you.”
"Oh?" He raises his eyebrow, his finger gently finding the underside of your jaw, tilting it to meet his gaze. His pupils are dilated, filled with a level of lust you didn’t even know was possible. “Then maybe I need to show you exactly what you’ve been missing.”
That’s when he finds himself dropping to his knees, his head dipping low enough to kiss up your thighs. You let out a small sigh as his lips latch onto your skin, nipping and sucking in the same way he used to do when he wanted to leave a trail of marks.
Your lip gets trapped between your teeth, and the cold from the mirror behind you lingers on your exposed back. You look down and wish you could see the look in his eyes right now, yearning to see the hungry glint as he’s between your thighs. You can’t help your nails from digging into his shoulders as you relax into his tantalizing kisses.
“Still so fucking responsive to me, aren’t you?” His words fan over your heated skin, his breath so close to your clit you can’t take much more.
“Don’t tease me, Junnie,” you breathe out. 
He laughs softly before pressing a gentle kiss against your clit, his tongue darting out to follow his lips. He can’t help but grin when he feels your nails digging deeper into his skin. His hands move to cup your ass, squeezing the flesh and basking in your moans. 
He loved it more than anything when his girl was always so vocal, he could get drunk off the sound. Especially when he knows it’s his tongue licking along your soaking cunt and was making you whine like that.
You’re like putty in his hands, breathless and barely able to form coherent sentences as he teases you. And before you can even whine for more, his insatiable need to taste you gets the best of him and one of your legs is being thrown over his shoulder so his face can nuzzle further against your cunt.
“Fuck,” he groans against you, the hum of his words vibrating against your clit. Your knees buckle under the sensation but the tight grip he has on your ass keeps you upright. “Still taste like fucking heaven.”
“Shit,” you moan before throwing your head back. 
“Only for me, right?” He mutters, ignoring your whine as he pulls himself away from your cunt to look up at you before adding a stern, “Answer me.” 
“Yes, yes.” You’re so needy right now that you don’t even care that it comes out in pants. “Only you.”
“That’s right, no one gets to taste this cunt but me,” he grits through clenched teeth. “You’re mine, every fucking part of you.”
He savours the way your cheeks burn red as you nod vigorously in agreement. His mouth finds your pussy again, and now that he has your omission, he doesn’t bother holding back. He loves the way your eyes flutter shut, and the shameless moans escaping your lips as he devours you like you're the last thing he’ll ever taste - he’s certain it will be the last pussy he’ll ever taste.
You can barely think as his fingers run up and down your thighs, slowly travelling up until his thumb is pressing slow, torturous circles on your clit as his tongue dives inside you, lapping and rolling. His teasing along with the fast tempo of his tongue makes your hips rock subconsciously against his face. 
“Please, please, please.” 
The words are a shameless plea, and you can’t help it because he has your legs physically shaking.
“Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl for me and cum on my tongue.”
The simple words of praise are enough for your body to be hit with a strong wave of pleasure. Your muscles tense, your body shakes, and your thighs run wet and slick with a mix of your release and his spit. The room is only filled with pants and you feel a few soft kisses being placed along your thighs. 
Seconds later, his face, plastered with a very smug smile, appears in your line of sight. You notice how his lips and chin glisten; you didn’t think it was possible but you grow even more wet at the sight.
“I’ve missed making you cum.” 
You can’t help the huff of laughter that escapes you. “I guess I’ve missed you being the one making me cum.”
“You guess?”
“I know,” you correct, “I know I’ve missed you being the one making me cum.” You bite down on your lower lip. “Starting to think I should have more dance lessons with Shotaro to make you jealous more often.”
His eyes instantly darken. “That’s not even funny.”
Your smirk widens, “It is a little bit.”
“You think mentioning another man’s name after I’ve just made you cum with my tongue is funny?” He asks, and his hands find their way to tighten on your waist. “Did I not make you cum hard enough if you’re struggling to remember who you belong to?”
You’re amused by his comment, nail lightly trailing along his lower lip before he playfully nips it. “I don’t belong to you anymore.”
He shakes his head with a tut, “Stop it, you know you belong to me, just as I belong to you. Always have, always will.”
“You must’ve been really intimidated by Shotaro to be this possessive right now,” you tease.
“Doesn’t matter though does it?” He squeezes your waist tighter. “Because Shotaro wouldn’t stand a fucking chance against me. He doesn’t know your body like I do.”
Your breath hitches, hands gripping his shoulders. “He could learn.”
The muscles in his jaw flex and his eyes sharpen, “Not a chance.”
His lips tease along your jaw, and he grins when you move your head to the side to give him better access. “You think he could make you cum like I do? Think he’d know how to make you scream like you do for me?”
The grip he has on your hips is a mixture of pain and pleasure. You feel him smile against your skin when his lips kiss over the developing mark on your collarbone, already starting to turn purple, from earlier. 
Then, without warning, he’s flipping you around and pressing you against the cold glass of the mirror. The plush flesh of your tits flatten against it along with your hands, making you gasp. He’s quick to find your ear, nibbling at it before whispering. 
“He’d never get the chance to even look at this pussy.”
“Fuck, Jun,” you squirm.
You know you’ve hit a nerve when you see his reflection toying with the drawstring of his sweatpants, tugging them down along with his boxers with one hand still on your hip. 
It’s clear as day that he wants to claim what was his, and you’re more than happy to let him do so. Because the look of determination bordering on something more territorial sends a thrill through you. 
You can see everything in this position, from the way he has you firm in his grip, to the way he’s slowly stripping from his own set of clothes. You watch as he grabs the flesh of your ass and squeezes it. And he can see you too, your flushed-out expression. 
“Bet Shotaro doesn’t know you like watching yourself get fucked out, huh?”
You exhale deeply, making his smirk grow as he runs his hands along your skin, slowly venturing to lightly tease along your slit. 
“And he’ll never get to know. Isn’t that right?”
Your eyes don’t leave his through the glass, “I don’t know,” you tease, “Maybe you should give me a good enough reason to make sure he never gets to know.”
You watch as he leans closer to you, his back slowly covering yours as he kisses against the nape of your neck. His cock head is teasing your entrance, sliding up and down your cunt tormentingly. 
“You know I love a challenge babe.”
He doesn’t even give you a beat to throw a snarky remark back at him because he finally thrust into you, deep and thick and just the perfect fucking  fit. Your eyes roll, matched by the guttural moan he lets vibrate beside your ear as you clench around him, listening to the small list of curses he lets slip past his lips.
“Already squeezing around my cock, huh?” He hisses through tight teeth, hands tangling in your hair and giving a sharp tug so your eyes snap open. “Eyes on me. I want you to see how much you fucking missed my cock.”
Your eyes are weak and hooded and your skin is flushed. You so desperately want to flutter them closed, but not more than you want to obey his command. So, you open them hazily and Renjun can’t get enough of it - enough of you. 
The way you let out cute, little whimpers with every thrust; the way your hands clench into fists against the mirror as he pounds into you from behind, his tempo unforgiving and merciless. The way his hand tangles in your hair to tug you close enough that your back is pressed against his chest. The way your own chest is heaving up and down, hips wiggling against his. 
He watches as your fist unclenches and comes to cover your mouth in a feeble attempt to hide your moans – that won’t do, he thinks.
“Don’t you dare hide those moans from me,” his voice may be breathy but it’s still commanding. The hand not in your hair snakes around your body so he can cup your tit. “I haven’t heard them for months, so don’t hide them from me.”
“And whose fault is that?” You counter, followed by soft whimpers as he squeezes your breasts.
“Stop reminding me.”
He rolls his eyes as his hand travels down the plain of your stomach, until his fingers reach the sensitive nub between your thighs, making you press your lips together.
The pace of his thrusts - deliberately harsh and sharp to entice moans from you - has you biting down on your lower lip.
“Look at yourself baby,” his breath fans over your heated skin. “So fucking pretty. All wrecked out for me.”
Your hair is tangled, wild and messy, and your thighs slick. It’s the hundredth time your body has begun shaken with desperation for his touch and - well -  you just look so damn needy. 
But who can blame you? Huang Renjun makes you feel things that no other person has. He hits spots so deep inside you, spots you didn’t even know existed. He is just not like anyone else and you love that he was all yours and you were all his.
And just when you think you couldn’t become more of a mess, the muffled words he speaks in your ear as he fucks into you are filthy enough to have you tittering on the edge. 
“Junnie!”
Your orgasm comes crashing down. Hot pleasure rushes through your veins and then throughout your whole body. Your hand reaches behind you to cling onto him like a lifeline, nails digging into his skin as he fucks you through his own release. Your head feels fuzzy with the feeling of his cock driving in and out of you along with his moans – especially when he lands one last final sharp thrust inside of your cunt. 
He holds your body close to his for a moment, letting the seconds pass as his mouth plants kisses messily against your shoulder. You shudder when you feel him pull out of you slowly, and then you feel his wet sticky cum dripping down your thigh. 
He grabs for your panties, which have been disregarded somewhere in the room, and starts to wipe off the cum on your skin. It doesn’t even register in your mind what he’s doing until you properly look at him in the mirror.
You try to pull away from him, but his hand finds your hip and holds you in place. “Renjun! I need to put those back on!” 
“Your point?”
You shake your head and look at him through the mirror, “I have rehearsals and my panties are going to be sticky from your cum.”
He smirks smugly, almost excited at the idea of you having rehearsals. He stands back to his feet holding your panties out for you to take. 
“Good,” he shrugs, “That way if Shotaro wants to try anything, he knows you already belong to someone.”
You scoff and take the panties from his hand, slipping them past your ass with a roll of your eyes. You both find the rest of your clothes, dressing yourselves quickly.  Honestly, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly aroused at the idea of you wearing panties filled with his cum during a rehearsal. 
“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, you know.”
“I don’t know about that one,” he gives you a shrug, then pulls you closer to him by your hand. “It helped me get to fuck you again didn’t it?”
You snort, “That’s your takeaway from all of this?”
He’s about to say something cocky, you know it, but he’s interrupted by a pounding at the door. 
“Are you two done fucking in there so we can get back to our dance practice?!” Haechan shouts and you hear utters from the others telling him to shut up. Renjun groans a series of curses as his friend’s voice starts complaining. 
“Give me a second will you?!” He yells back. 
“Seriously how long does it take to have makeup sex?”
“Shut it, Haechan!”
You can’t help the laughter and amusement in your expression as Renjun turns from the door to face you. 
“Is that what this was? Makeup sex?” You ask.
This time when he pulls your arm into him he wraps his hand around your waist, hovering right before your lips. “You know it was. How many more times do I need to tell you I’ve missed you for you to realize you’ll always be my girl?”
“Hmmm, maybe a couple more times.” You tease, and then your words soon morph into giggles as he nuzzles against your neck, right where he knows you're ticklish.
“Then I fucking miss you. A lot.”
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