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harryspet · 8 months ago

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bambi eyes (6) r.cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, DUBCON, dd/lg, sugar daddy rafe, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression. little editing, barry doing barry things 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: Enjoy!

word count: 4.5k

In which your Daddy finally takes you to the country club.

masterlist

You were reading—slowly but surely. You took each sentence of the chapter book word by word, sounding out each syllable until it made sense to you. With a pink highlighter, you marked over every word you didn’t know the meaning of. You’d ask Rafe about those later or spend some time flipping through the dictionary. You flipped around in the cloud of linens you called a bed, attempting to find another comfortable position. You were reading about a girl with cat-like superpowers and the adventures she went on with her pet cats.

Lana had told you about all the stray cats she feeds out by her house and how a lot of them will let her pet them once they’ve been around her long enough. You’ve been doing your absolute best to stay on Rafe’s good side, knowing the next thing you’d ask him was if he’d let you get a cat. You knew there were plenty out there that needed good homes, just like you did at one point.

You didn’t ask him to take you anywhere unless he invited you. And after that lady had that outburst at the grocery store with him, his invites became less frequent. Every week, he took you to ballet practice and straight home. You reminded yourself to be grateful even for that experience since it kept your boredom at bay. When your Daddy called, you came straight away. When he told you to stay in your room, you stayed. When he held your wrist so hard that they bruised, you kept tears from escaping your eyes. When he brought you a present, you thanked him with your words and happily with your mouth.

A knock at your door caused you to sit up straight. You didn’t ever need to respond with “come in,” as the knock was just a warning that he was coming in, not a request. Rafe eyed you, the crinkles in his eyes letting you know he needed sleep before he looked down at his expensive gold watch. “If I’m not mistaken, I was invited to a one-o’clock tea party and lunch, and my host has yet to retrieve me.”

You palmed your face, your cheeks heating up. “I lost track of time, sorry.” You closed your book, stood, and straightened out your short gingham dress, “Everything should be ready though. Bunny is dressed. I just need help carrying all the guests.”

Before you could leave your book on the bed, Rafe said, “Bring it. I want you to read me somethin’.”

You agreed although the idea made you nervous. You grabbed Bunny, who was dressed in a matching gingham outfit, and then directed Rafe over to your mountain of stuffed animals. Impressively, he grabbed the six stuffed animals in one fell swoop, “Got ‘em, let’s go.”

Now that it was starting to get nicer outside, Lana suggested turning your tea parties into picnics on the front lawn. She’d laid out a floral linen sheet and placed a beautiful flower centerpiece in the middle, along with a wicker basket. You took your stuffed animals one by one from Rafe’s hand, placing them perfectly along the edge of the sheet, “And you sit here, Daddy,” You directed him and waited for him to get comfortable, “I’ll go get the sweet tea and finger sandwiches!”

“Don’t run!” Rafe shouted after you as you hurried back into Tannyhill. As soon as you were out of his line of sight, you picked up your speed, looking to find Lana.

You found Lana in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the array of desserts, “These look beautiful, Lana!” You exclaimed as she finished piping pink icing onto the cupcakes. You opened the fridge to grab the pitcher of sweet tea. “Did you make sure to add extra lemons? He really likes extra lemons-“

“Yes, I did, I know,” Lana responded, “Don’t be so worried, it’s just Rafe.”

You set the pitcher on the counter, taking a deep breath, “He wants to hear me read my book, Lana.”

“So? You’ve been doing so well in our lessons! You sound great to me when you’re reading and you’re only going to get better. The long, fancy words will come later,” She lifted the tray of sandwiches and desserts and you took it into your hands, “You’re a smart girl.”

“I am?” Lana smiled warmly, making sure you were carefully holding both the pitcher and tray.

“Yes, you are,” She assured you, “Go enjoy your lunch. Afterward, you’ll help me with the laundry, right?”

You beamed back at her, “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

When you made your way back to the front lawn, Rafe was where you left him but his phone was pressed to his ear. As soon as he saw you, he said, “---Everyone has dirt. Everyone has a weakness. Find it. I gotta go, I really don’t want to hear about this shit again.” You carefully set down the tray and pitcher, Rafe having intense conversations over the phone having become very natural to you.

Rafe let out an annoyed breath, setting his phone down, “Doesn’t it look delicious, Daddy?” You asked, cutting through the tension.

Rafe nodded, “It does. This is the highlight of my day,” He admitted, “You’re the highlight of my day, Bambi.”

Your nervousness slowly turned into eagerness as Rafe looked at you. He always looked at you like you were something precious, even if you felt the opposite, and you found that you could easily be yourself around him. Although it seemed you were figuring out who you were every day that you were at Tannyhill.

You poured Rafe’s drink into an antique-looking glass, one that Lana had entrusted you with taking care of, “Made just how you like it,” You handed it to him and promptly began to hand out the rest of the dishware, making sure Bunny and your stuffed animals had tiny replicas of them. With small tongs, you carefully placed sandwiches on your and Rafe’s plates, “I like pickles now. They aren’t so bad.”

“Oh, thank God,” Rafe responded with his mouth full, already halfway through his first sandwich, “I was really worried there for a second.”

You giggled, “You were worried?”

“I was as soon as you tried one and said you didn’t like it,” Rafe said, which made you laugh more, “This just confirms you’re perfect. And open-minded. And beautiful.”

“Me liking pickles means that I’m beautiful.” You were trying to follow his logic, your cheeks heated in embarrassment, but he interrupted you with a messy kiss.

As you finished up lunch, you found yourself entangled with Rafe, your legs over his lap and leaning against his chest as you opened up your book. You hoped starting with chapter one would make it easier, knowing you’d read it at least five times this morning. Luckily, you now had someone who could tell you the meaning of the words you had the most trouble with. Rafe used the strategy of not only defining the word but using it in an example sentence.

“Ill-u-min-ate.”

“Every time you walk into a room, you illuminate it with your beauty.”

“Haz-ar-dous.”

“It would be very hazardous to get between me and my Bambi.”

“Fuh-ruh-strat-ed.”

“Seeing you naked gets me extremely frustrated.”

“I thought you said it meant to angry,” You countered, and you could feel him grinning.

“Words can mean different things,” He spoke cryptically, “Hey, you know, I’m really impressed with your reading, Bambi.”

You straightened up and turned to look at him, “You mean it?”

“I’m really proud of you,” he nodded. “I wasn’t sure if Lana could help you all on her own, but I think you’re making good progress.”

You wrapped your arms around him, immediately needing to physically express your satisfaction, your weight effectively toppling the two of you over. Pride was a new feeling that you were getting used to. “Does this mean I could go to a real school? Like in the movies? Maybe law school? Like Elle Woods?” You straddled Rafe, his hands gently exploring the backs of your thighs.

“Are you talking about Legally Blonde?” Rafe’s eyebrows raised, his eyes undoubtedly flashing to a past memory, probably related to his sisters, “Did Lana show you that?”

“It was really good,” You nodded, “How far away is Stanford?”

“Far,” Rafe stated, and you got the feeling he wasn’t explaining as much as he could, “Let’s not — uh, let’s focus on just reading a chapter book. Once you’re reading like Shakespeare and shit, we can talk about college.”

“Okay,” You agreed, pressing your nose to his, “How many books do I have to read before we get a kitty cat, Daddy?”

“I see what you did there,” Rafe stared you down. You gave him a mischievous look as you pressed your lower half closer to his. “I think Daddy’s going to need a lot of convincing on that idea as well.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt Rafe’s fingers trailing over your panties, “What can I do to convince you, Rafey?”

You saw the lust in his eyes. That was one nickname he seemed to like even more than Daddy. “Slide those panties to the side and take Daddy’s cock out.”

“But the guards–” You rushed out, and Rafe’s grip tightened on your thighs.

“You didn’t seem to mind when you climbed on top of me,” Rafe countered, “C’mon, you have to finish what you started, little girl.”

After those words, you tried to ignore the idea of one of Rafe’s men catching a glimpse of what the two of you were doing. You did as Rafe said but as timidly and covertly as possible, sliding your panties to the side and then undoing his zipper. Like Rafe had taught you before, you spit into your hand, rubbing the liquid against your hole and using the rest to lubricate his tip.

You looked Rafe in the eyes before he could command you to, and Rafe gave you the same proud look that he had on his face when he complimented your reading skills. Rafe sat up on his hands, and as you placed him against your entrance, you made sure the skirt of your gingham dress was fully covering your ass. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you slowly enveloped every inch of him.

You whimpered into his ear, already feeling overwhelmed. Your thighs burned as you tried to move up and down his length, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were doing it wrong. You and Rafe didn’t often have sex in this position, and if you did, Rafe would just end up pinning your hips in place and thrusting up into you. In this position, you were almost in complete control, and it made each sensation feel even more heightened.

“Grind into me,” Rafe spoke huskily, “It’ll feel better that way.”

You started to roll your hips against him, and instantly you felt something building within you. With that motion, you could feel your clit rubbing against him. As you controlled the speed and how deep he was inside of you, you adjusted it entirely to your liking, and it surprised you how good you made yourself feel, “You gonna make yourself cum on my cock, Bambi?”

You gave him a shaky nod, “Y-Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Cum for me.”

You whimpered into his ear, suddenly burning up even though you were directly under the sun. “Thank you, thank you,” you muttered breathlessly. “Thank you, Rafey.”

“Look at you,” Rafe said, “My grateful little girl is squeezing me so good. Keep going, baby.”

Rafe squeezed you tightly in his arms like he was hugging you as you felt him fill your insides. “Fuck,” Rafe grunted in your ear, “Didn’t know you were so good at that.”

Rafe was doing something he promised himself he’d never do.

Maybe this would’ve been an option at the beginning of their relationship when he wasn’t so attached. The idea of doing this now … every fiber of his being was telling him that this was wrong. “Everybody has a weakness. You told me that, right? I did some digging. Some super fucking deep digging,” Barry had started.

Atlantic Crest Properties is one of Cameron Development’s biggest rivals both on the island and the mainland. Nathaniel Sterling, the CEO, was one of Ward’s closest friends, but since his death, Rafe had struggled to maintain Nathan’s favor. In fact, he disliked Rafe so much that he was purposely starting to poach Cameron Development’s construction laborers and spreading misinformation about the company’s financial status.

Rafe had worked hard to dig the company out of debt, and Sterling was preventing future investors from giving the company a chance, “There’s this high-end bar on the mainland that he always visits, placed called the Platinum Parlor. This guy is there every weekend, at least. One of my boys tells me that the place is basically a front for a swingers club. They won’t let you in unless you’re a member, and there’s like secret codes you use to, you know, get access to what you’re looking for.”

“Get to the point, please.”

“Basically, he’s a freak. He always asks for a girl named Venus. My boy was telling me this, and I realized I knew that girl; she used to buy from me. I rode over there looking for her before her shift started, and I offered her some powder for some information. She couldn’t tell me everything, but he’s shown her videos of him doing some stuff, and he always asks that she wear pigtails, a plaid skirt, glasses, the whole school-girl look …” Rafe listened as Barry delved further into all the debauchery he’d heard.

“...what are you implying, Barry?”

“I’m trying to say you have the perfect tool to solve yo’ problem. This is the only thing the dude gets off on, and I know his wife ain’t home dressing up for him. You have the most innocent girl in the world, and she actually likes wearing her hair in pigtails.”

“I know you’re not telling me I should let him fuck her–”

“No, no, Rafe! I’m saying that you can let him think that he can for as long as you need him to. That’s your in.”

“Fuck, I don’t wanna do that.”

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing you’ve ever done, country club.”

Barry was right about that.

You liked the way the Kooks dressed, and they all seemed to exude happiness. They matched and coordinated every piece of their outfits, and even the ones playing sports had at least one piece of expensive-looking jewelry on.

Rafe’s black polo and khaki shorts were nicely pressed, and he looked every bit like a seasoned golfer. He also gripped the golf cart’s wheel in one hand, carefully and quickly navigating the expansive green course.

After you made your first stop, Rafe started by showing you the basics of acting as his caddy. He pointed at the clubs he would most likely be using and made you practice grabbing them. He also placed you in charge of keeping up the scorecard, slowly explaining all the numbers you were meant to help keep track of. You quickly learned this was a more complicated game than you imagined, and you weren’t sure how much fun it would actually be to play it.

Still, you were overjoyed that Rafe had even invited you out of the house to the country club, of all places. You spent a total of two hours deciding what to wear that morning until Rafe ultimately made the decision for you, choosing a short-sleeve, collared white dress. He also helped you tame your hair into two high ponytails wrapped in pink bows. As soon as you saw how cute you looked, you made sure to ask Rafe if they made golf dresses in Bunny’s size.

You watched intently as Rafe stepped up to the first tee, positioning his feet and adjusting his grip on the club with practiced ease. With a smooth swing, he sent the ball soaring through the air, landing neatly on the fairway with a satisfying thud.

“Wow,” Your mouth hung open as you watched, “That was amazing, Rafey!”

“You wanna try it?”

Hands behind your back, you nervously stepped closer, “Relax,” Rafe said, “I’m gonna help you.”

The actual golf club was much heavier than you were expecting and probably too tall for you, but Rafe adjusted your position accordingly. You felt him pressed against your back, his strong arms enveloping your frame and his hands wrapped around yours. “You’re always going to start with a tight grip, and then it’s all about your stance.” Rafe placed his leg between yours, kicking your feet apart until they were about shoulder-lengths apart, “Bend your knees for me, sweet girl.”

“This feels … hazardous,” You tried and you felt Rafe’s chest vibrate as he chuckled.

He stepped back from you, “Try bizarre,” You nodded, mouthing the word quietly, but kept your stance, “But you look great. Now, for the backswing. When you swing, you’re going to keep your arms straight and shoulders relaxed, and I want you to turn your upper half until the club is all the way back.”

You tried to follow his list of instructions, but Rafe ended up grabbing ahold of you again to demonstrate the motion, “You’re going to let the club flow naturally through the ball,” He guided you until you were ready to entirely give it a go, “You got this, Bambi.”

You obeyed Rafe’s final instruction and were surprised that you actually hit the ball, although it landed about five feet in front of you. “Look!” you jumped from excitement.

“You did it,” Rafe grinned, “Wanna try again?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but your voice trailed off as another golf cart approached. Instinctively, you closed the gap between you and Rafe.

“Mr. Cameron!” An older gray-haired man, maybe in his 50s, approached, grin hidden partially by a thick mustache, “So lovely of you to grace this fine club with your presence after so many years.”

His deep and commanding voice soon matched his stature as he climbed out of the cart. A shorter, younger man was riding in the passenger side. A gold name tag was pinned to the left side of his chest. “Mr. Sterling,” Rafe greeted back, and you looked up to see a tight, slightly painful grin on his lips. “From what I’ve heard, you frequent this place a little too much. Do they have a reserved parking spot for you yet?”

Mr. Sterling let out a pinched laugh.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

It was then that the tall man made deep, soul-searching eye contact with you, “Bambi, this is Nathaniel Sterling. He owns Atlantic Crest Properties, which operates here on the island. Nathaniel, this is my girlfriend, Bambi.”

Nathaniel reached out a hand, and you officially felt you’d been thrown into the spotlight. You hadn’t interacted with anyone outside of Tannyhill or your ballet class. Rafe nodded slightly, signaling that it was okay to accept his hand. The man’s grip was strong and calloused.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bambi,” He greeted you.

“Hi,” You spoke softly, “You do work like Rafe does?”

“Oh, yes, and much better, sweetheart,” You smiled, believing he was trying to make a joke, “I saw your swing on the way up. With some more practice, I can see you becoming a pretty good player.”

“Really?” Your eyes widened.

“Rafe’s gonna have to get you your own set of clubs,” Nathaniel smirked. “Or maybe you can have my daughter’s since she only uses them sparingly anymore.”

“That would be–” The words came out faster than you could stop them, “That’s a really kind offer, Mr. Sterling.”

You looked up at Rafe, excited by the offer, “I’m sure I can afford a new set,” Rafe stated.

“Anyways,” Mr. Sterling coughed to clear the tension, “If the two of you aren’t too exhausted after your game, you should join me at the Steakhouse for an early dinner. Why waste the opportunity for us to catch up.”

You got a similar feeling to when you were around Barry and Rafe, like the two of them were having a conversation with their eyes. Mr. Sterling seemed intimidating, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted to see more of this place.

“Sound good,” Rafe agreed, which you were grateful for, “We’ll see you there.”

After playing a few more holes and Rafe finishing your crash course on golf, he started showing you around. There were two Olympic-sized pools, a spa, daycare, and gym, and they even offered horse rides along the beach on special occasions. The two of you explored a women’s boutique—well, you explored it while Rafe had a conversation over the phone with Barry. You noticed Mr. Sterling’s name come up a few times but became distracted when you saw the perfect dress.

Although you thought Rafe might say it was too fancy for dinner, Rafe immediately called the attendant over so you could try it on. It was princess style, with short sleeves tied with cream-colored ribbons and a skirt flowing out in three tiers. The attendant helped you into the corset, and you were practically locked in by the time you showed Rafe.

He was already leaning against the payment counter, black card in hand. “We’ll take it; she’s going to wear it out,” he said as you twirled around. “You want anything else?”

“No,” You spoke breathlessly. “This is perfect. Thank you, Rafe!”

Rafe entwined his fingers with yours and held your hand throughout the entire walk to the restaurant. You found Mr. Sterling waiting for you at a table in the corner of the restaurant, with large windows on either side of him that looked out onto the beach. As he waved you over, Rafe leaned down to whisper to you, “You don’t have to say anything or answer any question you don't want to.”

“Okay,” You said softly, knowing he was just looking out for you.

“Rafe, Bambi,” He said as the two of you approached. You took the seat closest to the window after Rafe pulled it open for you, “How was the rest of your game?”

Despite the words he just told you, Rafe looked at you first as if he wanted you to answer, “It was really good,” You replied, trying to maintain a certain level of confidence, “I learned a lot and, uhm, the weather was just really perfect today.”

“I agree, it’s a beautiful day, and let me also say how beautiful you look in your dress, Bambi,” You had to glance away, a reflexive gesture to hide the embarrassed gesture that reached your face. You smiled despite the fact that your face was trembling, “It’s new?”

“Y-Yes, thank you. That’s—" You remembered the menu sitting on the table in front of you, and then you realized you were far too nervous at that moment to try to read it. “Do they have ice cream here?” you blurted out.

Rafe’s lips parted, but Nathaniel interrupted, “I think you’ll be quite happy with the dessert selection. Order whatever you like,” You felt Rafe’s hands suddenly on your thigh. He was trying to hide how tense was, but it wasn’t working.

When the waiter approached, Rafe ordered for you, which you were grateful for: chicken fingers, mac and cheese, and apple juice. He then went ahead and ordered you a dessert called strawberry crunch ice cream cake.

Rafe and Nathaniel bantered for a while about business and things related to Kildare that you didn’t fully understand. For the most part, you focused on enjoying your food and addressing Nathaniel whenever he addressed you. Some of your nervousness washed away because the man seemed to smile and laugh in reaction to every word that you said as if you were the most amusing thing in the world.

Halfway through the dinner, you leaned over to whisper in Rafe’s ear.

“I need to go potty.”

Rafe nodded before pointing across the restaurant where he knew the bathroom was, “It’s over there. Go straight there and come back, please,” Rafe felt you squeeze his hand before you got up from your seat.

Usually, he’d love to watch you walk away, but his eyes were entirely fixed on Nathaniel, who was watching you intently.

“She’s quite … cute,” the man said sincerely, as if he were thinking deeply. “She’s so pure … hard to believe she was a whore when you found her.”

Rafe squinted, nodding his head, “She was never a whore, Nathaniel.”

“She knows how to fuck, doesn’t she?”

“She comes from unfortunate circumstances, yes, but I’d appreciate it – greatly – if you didn’t call her that,” Rafe tone was sharp as he leaned closer, elbows on the table, “I really want to work something out with you, Nathaniel, but you’re not going to treat me like I’m just Ward’s son. I want something from you, and you want something from me. I’ll respect you if you treat me the same.”

“You’ve grown attached,” Nathaniel seemed to brush off Rafe’s intensity, “I apologize. Really, I’ve spent a short time with her, and I’m already quite enamored. I admire you, Rafe. You’ve trained her quite nicely.”

“She’s a good girl,” Rafe tried to set his emotions aside, and the feelings he had about you that seemed to make him go crazy. He needed to be cold. He needed to be the Rafe who’s able to pull a trigger and not feel any remorse, “She’s under tight lock and key. She’s under my watch, and I know exactly where she is 24/7.”

“Cameras?” Nathaniel’s interest peaked.

“In her playroom,” Rafe shrugged.

“Huh,” The man’s jaw clicked, “I want pictures and videos, at the very least.”

This is what Rafe wanted but he couldn’t help but feel pause. The man in front of him was desperate. He could own Nathaniel with the knowledge he was giving up and the secrets that you could probably draw from in. It was dangerous involving you, but what Barry said was true, you were going to open doors for him.

“At the very least?”

“Yeah, everything after that we can negotiate.”

Rafe could only think for a minute because you were happily skipping back towards the table. Your hands were cradled together, open towards him and holding peppermints, “Look, Rafe, they had a whole bowl of free mints in the bathroom,” You chirped, “I’m going to save some of these for Lana if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, baby, that’s fine.” Rafe smiled at you. “I was just telling Nathaniel about the amazing tea parties you like to throw.”

As you plopped down in your seat, your princess-style dress puffing up and then deflating like a balloon, your eyes widened. “It’s really fun!” you added. “Next time, I want to paint tea-cup handles. You should come, Mr. Sterling. Is that okay?”

The two men exchanged glances before Nathaniel narrowed his eyes back on you, running a hand over his face to smooth down his mustache, “That sounds delightful, sweetheart.”

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pastryfication · 1 month ago

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THE RED SHOES ↳ oscar piastri

based on the fairytale by hans christian andersen | inspired by an old school project i found on my laptop … this took me forever so please give it some love <33

pairing: oscar piastri x leclerc!sister!reader summary: from the moment you were gifted your first ballet slippers, dance had been a constant in your life. a comfort in even the darkest times. but it becomes unhealthy the moment you are unable to take off the shoes.

the most worn out, old shoes in your collection dated all the way back to your fourth birthday. they had been a gift from your three brothers; a pair of red dance slippers for you to wear when you the following week participated in your very first ballet class.

it had been love at first sight for you. the moment you stepped into the studio, feeling the hardwood beneath your thin shoes, seeing yourself reflected in a mirror no matter what direction you looked in, you knew that it was where you wanted to spend the rest of your days. dance became your lifeline, the only thing keeping you going when everything else seemed dull.

when your brothers were off racing and your parents preoccupied themselves with the go-karts and helmets, you found solace in the simple act of ballet. lacing up your shoes, the familiar scent of the studio and the smoothness of the wooden floor always managed to calm you. when the music started, your world narrowed down to the rhythmic beating of the drum and the fluidity of your movements. there, in that sanctuary, nothing else mattered.

your first pair of shoes quickly became worn out, too ruined to be used, and your parents provided you with a new pair. a new pair that soon would be replaced as well.

when you were twenty, you were for the first time introduced to oscar. it was the italian grand prix, an event your entire family always attended in support of your older brother, and that year was no different. you had been wandering around in search of a familiar face when you ran into the mclaren driver. it had been love a first sight—something neither of you believed in, yet couldn’t deny—to put it simple, and the two years you had been together had been nothing short of incredible.

the australian was more than happy to contribute to your collection of shoes that only grew more and more as your training became harder, more challenging, more draining.

he worried. it wasn’t in his nature, not something he found himself doing often, but for you, for the growing dark circles under your eyes, for the weight you only seemed to loose and not gain, he worried.

you would never want him foreboding, never want him to feel the slightest unease, but as your days filled with more stress, your mind started closing up, leaving room for nothing but the new choreography.

each morning and each night, you stepped into the studio, the mirrored walls reflecting your resolve, as the music filled the air like a whisper of promise. each movement carved out a sanctuary, a space where the weight of the world faded to a distant hum.

your body became a vessel for the dance, each plié and tendu an escape from the noise outside. time drifted away, an endless stream of practice and precision and the pulse of the music guiding you deeper into this realm.

the world outside became a mere shadow, its demands and voices lost in the blur of your focus, where you were both lost and found. every ache was a testament to your commitment, every breath a surrender to the rhythm.

the only thing remaining clear was the shoes.

you had long since outgrown the pair your brothers had gifted you so thoughtfully, yet somehow, they stayed with you, not only in the physical sense, but in a way that felt deeper, more insidious. you couldn’t see it then, couldn’t know how easily the delicate line between passion and obsession could blur without you noticing.

your brothers had never fully understood, though they loved you all the same. their world was filled with the rush of engines, the thrill of speed. they were boys of the track, always chasing something fast, something tangible. when they handed you those shoes on your fourth birthday, they had no way of knowing they were giving you something you would chase for the rest of your life. a place you would carve out in the quiet, where the sound of your feet against the floor was all that mattered.

time went on so slow yet so fast. your brothers still called, though not as often as before. arthur’s voice always had an edge of command, as though even over the phone, he couldn’t help but lead you, the only person who would ever follow his command. “we’re all going to monaco this year. you’re coming, right?” his words held the weight of expectation, as though he couldn’t imagine you saying no. but when you hesitated, there was always that brief pause before he moved on, never pushing too hard.

charles’ calls were shorter, more distant, his voice lighter, floating through pictures and scattered texts from whatever corner of the world he happened to be racing through. he asked about the dance, though you both knew he didn’t really need the answer. to him, it was enough that you were still moving, still spinning through your world as he did through his.

and lorenzo—sweet, caring enzo—he called the most, his words gentle but filled with concern as he told you about your mother’s worry. about his own worry. “you sound tired,” he’d say, even when you laughed it off. he noticed things the others didn’t, sensed the exhaustion creeping into your voice, the hesitation between your words. but you reassured him, told him you were fine, always fine.

it wasn’t until oscar voiced the same worry that you began to feel the weight of it yourself. he wasn’t like your brothers—his concern was quieter, but it settled over you like a shadow. he’d watch you in the studio, even when he was busy and cramped by his ever growing career.

silent he was, his eyes tracing the movements of your body as it twisted and turned, as though trying to understand what it was you were chasing. he knew, even if you didn’t want to admit it yet, that something had shifted.

“i’m worried,” he had said one evening, after watching you move through another rehearsal, the exhaustion clinging to you like a second skin. “you don’t have to push so hard.”

his words were soft, but they lingered. you had brushed them aside at first because how could he understand?

the studio was your world. it was where everything made sense.

each day, the pull of the shoes grew stronger, though they were no longer on your feet. the new pairs you slipped on felt no different; they all seemed to carry the same curse, driving you forward even when your body begged to stop. the movements, once effortless, now felt like a compulsion, a promise you couldn’t break. you were chasing something. chasing a perfection that always seemed just out of reach.

it wasn’t until you stumbled—it just a small misstep, barely noticeable to anyone but you—that the truth started to crack open. you stood there, breath caught in your chest, staring at the mirrored walls surrounding you. your reflection looked back, but it didn’t feel like your own. there was something unfamiliar in the way your body moved, something hollow in your eyes. the girl in the mirror was still dancing, but you weren’t sure why anymore.

oscar was a magician in the way he immediately was there, his hand on your arm before you even realized it. “it’s okay,” he whispered, his voice steady, but his eyes told a completely different story. “you don’t have to keep doing this,” he said softly, his fingers brushing against yours as tenderly as if you were close to breaking. “you don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

you wanted to believe him, but you couldn’t. the shoes still called to you, still urged you forward. they were tied to something deeper than the dance itself, something you couldn’t quite name, but couldn’t quite let go of either.

your brothers called again, their voices distant but filled with love. “come to the race,” charles said. “we’ll all be there. we want to see you.”

and for a moment, you hesitated, the pull of family tugging against the pull of the enchanting movements. you thought of charles‘ steady voice, of arthur’s laughter, of lorenzo’s quiet concern and of your mothers worrying eyes. you thought of your first ever shoes, of the girl who had received them. the girl who danced because it was her joy, not her burden.

but as you tried to step out the shoes, you found that you couldn’t. they were stuck, grown unto your feet so tightly that not even the whispers of your adoring family and all too loving boyfriend could free them. the web had spun for years, and now, it was too late to escape.

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diorcities · 6 months ago

Text

𝓣𝒉𝒆 𝕾𝒘𝒂𝒏

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

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

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.

୨♡୧

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.

୨♡୧

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.”

୨♡୧

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 naïve 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 naïve 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.

୨♡୧

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.

୨♡୧

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 étoile.” 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.”

୨♡୧

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.”

୨♡୧

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.

୨♡୧

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 jeté. “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.

୨♡୧

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.

୨♡୧

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.

୨♡୧

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.

୨♡୧

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?”

୨♡୧

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.

୨♡୧

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.”

୨♡୧

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.

୨♡୧

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.

#haechan smut #lee haechan smut #lee donghyuck smut #donghyuck smut #nct dream smut #haechan x you #haechan x reader #haechan fic

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months ago

Text

Injured (Alba's Version) IV

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: The aftermath

*TW: parental neglect, aftermath of suicide*

It takes Alexia nearly a week until she realises you're missing.

You're self-sufficient and independent. You've never needed much and it's not weird for Alexia to not see you for days on end.

You come home from whatever you spend your days doing and go straight to your room.

You make your own meals, she's pretty sure because she never has to make extra. Just enough for a family of three. Two when Olga is away from work.

It's a fleeting thing really, the only way that she realises you've disappeared.

She knocks on your door, intent on finally having that conversation about what you're planning on doing with your future.

There's no answer.

"Now's not the time to sulk, y/n," She calls through the door," If you don't come out then I'm coming in!"

Still silence.

"One! Two!"

Alexia doesn't wait for three, shoving open the door.

She expects to see you on your bed, sulking or whatever it is you do when she's not around.

You're not there though.

Your bed is made. Your clothes are packed away.

There's nothing out of place. Nothing to prove that this room was even really yours apart from a few neat stacks of paper on your desk.

Alexa glances over them, frowning as if they'd give her the answer to where you've gone.

She's been home since last night, the first one up and awake in the house. There's no way you could have snuck past her.

"Jaume!" She yells out," Where's your sister?"

"I don't know! Out with friends or something?"

That's odd.

Alexia can't remember the last time you mentioned a friend to her. To be honest, Alexia can't remember the last time the two of you actually had a conversation.

She shuffles through the papers on your desk.

Yes, she thinks, you must be with friends because there's three tickets to a ballet performance on Saturday.

You must be wanting to take them with you.

It's only when Alexia sits up that night, waiting for you to come home, that she gets the sinking feeling you're not coming back.

She waits for hours until the early hours of the next morning and the sun begins to rise before panic lances through her chest.

You've not come home.

She checks her phone, wondering if she missed a text saying you would stay at a friend's house but there's nothing.

She checks your room, just to see if you've climbed in through the windows but they're locked.

You are nowhere.

She pulls Jaume out of school for the day. She calls Olga to come home from Madrid.

She scours all of the places she thinks you hang out but you're nowhere to be seen.

It's almost like you've never existed in the first place.

The call comes in the evening.

It's Alba.

"I can't talk right now," Alexia says after two missed calls," I'm-"

"I'm sorry," Alba says instead.

"What?"

"I'm sorry." Alba chokes her words out like they're so physically painful she can barely say them. Like she's so numb that even talking is difficult. "I tried but..."

"Alba? What's happened? Listen, I really can't talk right now. I'm-"

"I really did try. They did too but it was already too late."

"Alba, what is going on?"

"We should go to the hospital," Alba says," I'll send you which one."

In the deepest pit of her chest, Alexia already knows what has happened. In some deep, dark part of her, she's known since Alba called. In the worst, most hidden piece of herself, Alexia has known since the beginning.

It's an awful thing for an aunt to see.

It's a terrible thing for a brother to see.

It's even worse for a mother to see.

A picture goes up at the ballet company.

(Alexia didn't even know you joined one).

It's of you smiling, the headhsot that they used on the website, displayed proudly in the main foyer.

'Rest In Peace' sits under it and a little plaque with your name and how long you lived. It states your interests with no hint about trains at all. It talks about your reserved disposition but mentions how you endeared yourself to everyone.

Flowers sit under it, bouquets upon bouquets from the dancers and the staff and audience members who have seen you perform.

(Alexia has never been to a performance once).

Support pours in from people Alexia hasn't spoken to in years. Old coaches. Old teammates. Old friends.

Everyone seems to have a fond memory of you but all Alexia can think about is the last words she said to you.

She can't remember them.

She can't remember what she said or how she felt or what she was doing.

There is a gap in her memory from that moment.

Everyone talks about you so fondly, with such clarity that Alexia can't replicate.

You have gone on a wisp of breeze and Alexia is left trying to catch the impossible.

Her mind circles around herself, trying to work out where this all went wrong.

She loved you. She loved you so much.

Her beautiful baby girl who was a little nervous and a little quiet but beautiful all the same.

The little girl who loved trains and ballet and doing all the super feminine stuff that Alexia had to learn when she was a bit older.

The people around her tell stories of you, like Ingrid talking about how you used to love having her braid your hair back but Alexia sits there numb.

She's been numb since she saw your body in the hospital morgue.

She's been numb since the funeral where you lay in your coffin, perfectly peaceful like you were taking a long sleep.

She's been numb since they all returned to Eli's house for food and drink to celebrate your life.

Alba is not talking to her, has not talked to her outside what is needed since she called.

Alexia hasn't even noticed, too preoccupied with the realisation that she's a mother that just had to bury her daughter.

It was not a disease that took you. It was not a heart attack. It was not a random attack on the street.

It was you.

You made this decision, decided that this world was not worth living in anymore. That you could no longer cope with everything happening around you.

Things that Alexia has no knowledge on and, now, will never have any knowledge on.

You thought that this path was better than returning home.

You thought that everything would be better, more peaceful if you took your life away.

People have been cautious around Alexia, seeing just how close she is to tears.

She didn't cry during the funeral when you were lowered down into the ground with nothing but a neat blouse and a skirt.

Nothing to take with you now that you're gone.

Olga had to pack your things away in your room because Alexia could not force herself to even step through the doorway.

Your things are gone.

You are gone.

And Alexia will never know why.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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kentobb · 10 months ago

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‘I hate you’

Character: Husband!Iwaizumi x Wife!Reader

Warning: Angst with no comfort (I know you guys hate me at this point).

A/N: I am a fan of angst w/ no comfort in case you guys didn’t notice. I will be releasing more angst and different scenarios. Be free to send a request babes!

The night was dark, the only source of light being the faint glow of the the city’s skyline as Iwaizumi parked his car in front of his home. The weight of a grueling practice session hanging heavily on his shoulders. His muscles ached, his mind was a whirlpool of strategies and his heart was filled with unspoken longing for the comforts of his home, but hey, nobody said that training the Japan’s Men’s Volleyball Team was easy.

As he opened the door, the warm glow of the living room light washed over him, a stark contrast to the cold darkness outside. You, his lovely wife, a beacon of love and support greeted him with a tired smile.

However, your six-year old daughter, Yuki, a bundle of energy and joy, ran towards him, her tiny arms wrapping around his tired legs.

Dinner was a quiet affair, the only sound being the clinking of cutlery against the plates. Yuki, however, was a chatterbox, her excitement about her upcoming ballet recital bubbling over. “And we will be doing the Swan Lake!” “I have been practicing a lot daddy!” She spoke animatedly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation, her voice filled with hope. She turned to her father, her innocent eyes searching his. “Daddy, will you come to my recital?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Iwaizumi looked at her daughter, his heart aching at the hopeful look in her eyes. He wanted to be there, he really does, to watch his little girl twirl and dance, to be the father she deserved. But he knew the harsh reality of his schedule, the relentless demands of his career. “We will see,” he said, it’s all he says, his voice heavy with regret.

Your smile faded, replaced by a look of disappointment. You knew your husband words for what they were— an unfulfilled promise. Yuki’s face fell, her excitement replaced by a quiet sadness that you were quick to notice. It was a scene all too familiar, a bitter pill you had to swallowed many times before.

After dinner, you cleaned the kitchen, the silence of the house echoing the heaviness in your heart. But you were determined to make this right, as you ascended the stairs into your shared bedroom, you made a silent vow. To take manners into your own hands. To ensure that your daughter recital would not be another missed milestone, another broken promise.

You husband may be a national hero, a symbol of strength and resilience, but to your daughter? He was simply ‘Daddy’. And she deserves to have her ‘Daddy’ cheering for her from the audience, not from miles away. She deserved to have her hero by her side, not just in spirit but in person.

The bedroom was bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting long shadows on the walls. You sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded in your lap. You turned to look at your husband, eyes reflecting the turmoil in your heart.

“Hajime,” You spoke, voice steady despite the storm brewing in your heart, “We need to talk about Yuki.”

Iwaizumi, still in his practice clothes, looked at you, his brows furrowing in confusion, “What about her, babe?” He asked, his voice betraying his exhaustion.

“You know she needs you there, Hajime. She needs her father,” You replied, voice barely a whisper.

Iwaizumi just sighed, raking a hand through his hair, “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m working hard for her, for us.”

You shook your head, a sad smile playing on your lips, “That’s not what she needs, Hajime. She doesn’t need the money, or the fame, or the glory. She needs her father. She needs you to be there for her, to support her, to love her.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes hardened, his patience wearing thin. “There will be a million recitals, I’ll go to one of them.”

His words hung in the air, a harsh reality you both had been avoiding. Your eyes welled up in tears, heart aching at this indifference. “You haven’t been to any of them, Hajime. Not one.”

Iwaizumi scoffed, his frustration clearly boiling over. “What am I missing? Kids twirling for three minutes and twenty five seconds? It’s stupid, honestly.”

His mean and harsh words echoed in the silence of the room, a stark reminder of the widening chasm between you two.

“Hajime, how could you say that? She has worked very hard.” You said in disbelief.

Unbeknownst to both of you, a tiny figure stood outside the door, her heart shattering at her father’s words. Yuki, your little ballerina, had heard it all. The argument, her father’s indifference, your heartbreak. She clutched her ballet shoes to her chest, heart soaking the satin fabric.

The harsh words continued to fly between the two of you, voices rising in the quiet of the night.

“You’re being mean, Hajime.” You said, voice trembling with emotion.

“I don’t have time for this,” Iwaizumi retorted, his exhaustion seeping into his words. “I’m too tired to argue.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in the middle of the room. As he made his way to the bathroom, the argument continued, both of your voices echoing off the cold tiles.

Meanwhile, Yuki had silently made her way downstairs. With a heavy heart and tear-streaked cheeks, she threw her beloved ballet shoes in the trash, a silent testament of her shattered dreams.

The morning after the storm was always the calmest. Iwaizumi woke up, his body aching from the previous night's argument. It was his day off, a chance for him to rest and recover. Despite the tension between the two of you, you greeted him with a kiss, almost like a silent promise that you would speak about it later.

"I'll make breakfast," Iwaizumi offered, hoping to ease the tension. You nodded, attention focused on preparing Yuki's bag for ballet class.

As he entered the kitchen, he saw Yuki sitting at the table, her eyes devoid of their usual spark. Her small shoulders were slumped, her spirit seemingly crushed.

"Morning, Yuki," Iwaizumi said, his voice soft. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"I'm not hungry," Yuki replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

He couldn’t help but notice the change in his daughter’s demeanor. Her usual bright and bubbly personality was replaced by a quiet sadness that seemed to weigh her down. He found it odd, considering she was usually excited about her ballet classes.

“You’re okay bub?” He asked, concern lacing his voice.

But his question was met with silence. Yuki simply looked away, avoiding his gaze. He decided not to push her, instead focusing on preparing breakfast.

As he was cracking the eggs into a bowl, he heard your frantic voice from the other room. “Hajime, have you seen Yuki’s ballet shoes? I can’t find them anywhere. I swear they were here.”

He glanced at his daughter, but she was still avoiding his gaze. A sense of dread washed over him as he opened the trash bin to discard the eggshells. His heart sank as he saw the familiar pink ballet shoes nestled among the trash.

Realization hit him like a punch in the gut.

She had heard it all.

Fuck.

Was it possible? It couldn’t be!

“Honey,” he called out, his voice strained. You rushed into the kitchen, eyes wide with worry. He pointed to the trash bin, the discarded ballet shoes. The sight of it, it felt like a dagger into your heart. You turned your gaze to your daughter, your eyes pleading for an explanation.

“Yuki, why did you throw your ballet shoes away?” You asked, voice barely a whisper.

“I hate ballet! It’s stupid!” Yuki yelled, her voice filled with a bitterness that was far too heavy for her young age.

The harsh words hung in the air, a painful echo of the argument from the previous night. Iwaizumi felt guilt, realizing the impact his words had on his daughter, he didn’t know what to do.

“Yuki! Don’t speak to your mother that way!” He yelled, trying to regain control of the situation.

But Yuki’s next words cut through the air like a knife, “I hate you, Dad!”

The room fell silent, the harsh words echoing off the walls. You gasped, hand flying to your mouth. “Yuki, don’t say that…” You whispered, but it was too late.

Yuki was already running up the stairs, the slam of her bedroom door echoing through the house.

Iwaizumi stood there, stunned. The words ‘I hate you’ echoed in his mind, each repetition like a punch on the gut. He turned towards you, desperation in his eyes. “Fuck, I swear I didn’t mean any of it baby. I was just tired…” He said, but his words fell on deaf ears. Already making your way up to the stairs, attempts to coax your daughter out of her room, but you were only met with silence.

He was left alone in the kitchen, the guilt gnawing at him. He had hurt his daughter, and he didn’t know how to fix it. Has he destroyed his daughter dreams?

Reblogs, notes and comments are appreciated!

#haikyuu #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #hajime iwaizumi #haikyuu angst #angst no comfort #angst #hq angst #haikyuu dads #hq dads

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hmusunoo · 3 months ago

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𝐓𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐎𝐄 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

desc. │ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴜɴᴀɴɪᴍᴏᴜꜱ ᴅᴇᴄɪꜱɪᴏɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴀʟʟᴇʀɪɴᴀ ᴘʀᴏᴅɪɢʏ ʏ/ɴ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛᴏᴏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ꜱᴜɴɢʜᴏᴏɴ. ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴏʙᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʟᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴊᴜᴅɢᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴀᴛ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴏʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛꜱ ʜᴀᴅ ʜᴀᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴜɴɢʜᴏᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏᴏᴅ ꜰᴏʀ. ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴀᴛ. ɴᴏᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ʙɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛ ᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ.

pairings. │ ʙᴀᴅ ʙᴏʏ!ꜱᴜɴɢʜᴏᴏɴ x ɢᴏᴏᴅ ɢɪʀʟ ʙᴀʟʟᴇʀɪɴᴀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

warnings. │ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ (ʏᴇꜱ…ɪ’ᴍ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʀʏ), ʜᴀɴᴅᴊᴏʙ, ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ, ꜰᴏʀʙɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ, ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛꜱ.

It was a unanimous decision that ballerina prodigy y/n was too good for someone like Park sunghoon. It was obvious in the glaring judgmental stares that followed them around at school or in the way that your parents had hated sunghoon and everything he stood for. but you didn’t care about any of that. Not one bit of it at all. They didn’t know Sunghoon like you did, they didn’t know that sunghoon was caring, he was sweet, he was romantic.

Sunghoon would do anything for you and you him. Including sneaking him into your house in the middle of the night while your parents slept only a few doors down.

Your parents hated Sunghoon, loathed him. Your father had called him filth the first time you brought him around to meet them. They had forbade you from seeing him, they didn’t like his motorcycle or his down low attitude.

They thought of him as a lowlife nothing. Sunghoon was far from a lowlife, and just because he didn’t grow up rich or with parents that gave him everything didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of taking care of you, or loving of you.

Trying to convince your parents that was an impossible task. One you had eventually gave up on. You continued to see Sunghoon not allowing them to take control of your life. You may be a ballerina but you aren’t fragile. You could take care of yourself and you knew what you wanted, and what you wanted was Sunghoon.

Your phone was ringing. The constant buzz awaking you from your sleep. You snaked your hand underneath your pillow haphazardly searching for your phone. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room glancing over at the alarm clock that sat on your bedside table, it read 1:26am. Glancing at your phone you see Sunghoon’s name flashing across the screen. In a daze you answered you voice horse with sleep.

“Hoon?” You whispered into the phone “It’s 1am”

“I’m outside” There was a chatter to his teeth, probably due to the frigid cold of the january night. You hurried out of bed, hair disheveled in a tank top and frilly shorts to your window peering outside to see a shivering sunghoon.

You opened your window “Balcony!” You whisper shouted at him. Signaling him to meet you at the balcony. He nodded tucking his hands into his pockets and making his way to the balcony that connected to your room. You opened the sliding doors to your balcony being extra careful at being quiet.

You would never hear the end of it if your parents were to catch Sunghoon sneaking into your house in the middle of the night. They would be livid, they would ground you forever. Even at the grown age of twenty-one it seemed you was still a prisoner to your parents rules while in their house and while they paid for your ballet classes.

Sunghoon climbed the balcony as quiet as he could, letting out a soft grunt when he finally reached the railing, jumping over and landing on your balcony swiftly like the goddamn Spider-man.

"Ok Peter Parker" You teased at Sunghoon, flashing him a cheesy smile.

"I'f I'm Peter Parker that would make you my Mary Jane" His arms wrapped around your waist bringing you into him. He buried his face into your hair and inhaled. "You smell good" He mumbled as you giggled at his sweetness.

"I'm about to freeze to death if we don't go inside you" You had began to slightly shiver due to the cold. Sunghoon picked you up swiftly causing a small yelp to escape your lips.

"Park Sunghoon!" You giggled "put me down you barbarian" He opened the door to the balcony smoothly and closed it just as smoothly.

A sharp sting to your butt had you yelping in surprise as Sunghoon landed a slap to your behind. He tosses you onto your plush bed landing amongst the pillows and fluffy duvet that had adorn your bed.

Sunghoon made a show of crawling over to you slowly, running his hands up your legs and finally to your hips. "I love making men crawl" You teased looking up at Sunhoon as he hovered over you. His laugh rang through the room, you flinched slightly at the sound, hoping and praying that your parents were sleeping too deeply to hear it.

"Only for you baby" Sunghoon said, the smirk on his face giving. away all his intentions for tonight. He landed a soft kiss to your collarbone and another to the nape of your neck, making his way up until he reached your face. He. kissed your cheek softly before letting out a huff of air and plopping down beside you on the bed beside you.

"What did you do today?" he asked you nonchalantly. You had no interest in small talk. You hadn't seen Sunghoon in three days you have missed him, badly.

"Practiced" You mumbled, rolling over onto his body. You straddled his lap making your own way over his face and neck with your lips. Peppering kisses over his cheeks and down his neck. "Yeah?" He asked a breathy-ness to his voice that had further fueled your need to please him. "And then what?"

"Yeah" You whispered "and then I went shopping for new ballet flats" Your hands traveled down Sunghoon's zipper slowly bringing it down to tuck your hand in, freeing his hard cock from the confines of his jeans.

Sunghoon let out a small hiss when your hand made contact with his length. Long and heavy in your nimble hand you fisted him, moving your wrist up and down. "Did you find the fuck- the right flats baby?" Sunghoon wheezed out breathing turning heavier as your small hand moved up and down on his length, slowly at first.

"Mhm" You mumbled looking up at Sunghoon meeting his wild eyes as they frantically looked at you, dark with desire. Sunghoon licked his lips before looking down at your hand as it started moving with more speed. Up and down. "They're white with tiny little lace flowers on the top."

"Just like that sweetheart" Sunghoon groaned out forgetting all topic of conversation, throwing his head back against your soft pillows. "That feels so fucking good"

"Just like this?" You asked quickening the speed of your hand.

Sunghoon lifted his head up slightly too look at you, his eyes flicking from your face to your hand that was tightly wrapped around his cock then to your breasts that sat perfectly perky in your little pink tank top that he loved so much. He licked his lips meeting your eyes before looking down at you boobs once again.

"You want me to use them hoon?" You said not letting up on the speed of your hand.

Sunghoon's rapid nod akin to his suppressed groan was all the confirmation you needed. Reaching for the thin straps of your tank top you yanked them down each arm until your chest was on full display to his hungry eyes. "Fuck yes" Sunghoon moaned "You're so fucking hot"

His compliments only served as fuel to your ever growing need to please him. Your hand left his cock to squish your breast together over his cock barring them between, the head poking out inviting you to bend your head down kissing it softly.

You began moving your breast up and down on his cock, spitting on them to make your movements that much easier.

"Holy f-fuck" Sunghoon hissed out, all worries of your parents hearing you fleeing. His moans turned slightly high pitched as you continued your movements on him. His hands found his way to your face, cupping the apples of your cheeks.

"you're beautiful" He whispered in a daze. His thumb came up to your lips begging for you to open your mouth and suck on it.

You continued your movements bringing Sunghoon closer and closer to his end. "I'm almost there" Sunghoon said in a rush chest heaving.

The sudden bang of a door swinging open knocked you backwards, your hands scrambling to cover your chest, a feeble attempt indeed.

"What the fuck is going on in here?" The boom of your father's voice shook you to your core. The terror of what he just walked in on leaving you speechless. You scrambled to find yourself in the heap of mortification of the moment.

Sunghoon was up on his feet his cock back in his pants and his zipper zipped back up. Your shaking hands reached for you tank top straps yanking them up your arms.

"W-why didn't you knock?" You shrieked, coming face to face with the red angry face of your father and the disgusted look on your mother's.

Your father's attention was on Sunghoon now. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest. Your father moved in a flash yanking Sunghoon by his jacket. "What the fuck are you doing in my house in the middle of the night, you filth!"

Sunghoon's face was red from embarrassment or anger you truly didn't know. Probably both.

"Get off him!" You yelled grabbing at your Father's arm. Your dad yanked his hand back, pushing you to the ground in attempt at pushing you off of him. You looked back at your mom in bewilderment, but she just sat there emotionless not looking you in the eye.

"Don't fucking touch her" Sunghoon hissed out at your Father, his face red definitely from anger.

"Don't tell me what to do in my own house you punk" My father yanked at Sunghoon again before pushing him towards the balcony door. "Get out! Go the way you came. You're never to see my daughter again or you'll regret it."

Sunghoon turned around to look at your father a calmness on his face that had only scared me rather then comfort me.

"That won't be happening sir." Your Father let out a scoff "I love her, and nothing you say will keep me away from her."

Your father let out a full body laugh before nodding his head. "Ok" He said surprising every bone in my body, that quickly vanished in an instant as soon as the next few words left his mouth.

"If you don't stop seeing this scum, I will pull your inheritance and the funding for your ballet classes. You will no longer be a dancer. Do I make myself clear?"

A sob left me at this ultimatum. Your heart cracking in more ways the one. "Dad" You said weekly "Plea-"

"No." Your father stated firmly. "Do I make myself clear?"

without giving you time to respond he turned back to Sunghoon who sat there looking almost as broken as you, his eyes only on you not even your father.

"Get out" Your father said again, and this time Sunghoon had listened. Backing out the door, his gaze still on you before he jumped over the railing making his way down.

Through your sobs you looked at your dad with disgust written all over your face, and with the sharpest tongue and most poisonous venom you could muster you yelled "I hate you."

A sharp slap was heard not even a second later, the sting from your father's hand felt like it would last forever. A gasp was sounded before your mother's voice was heard over your cries "Y/d/n!" She shouted.

"Do not speak to me that way" Your father spit out "You act like a whore you'll get treated like one. If you want to continue to dance you will no longer be seeing that boy"

Sobs racked your entire as your father stormed out of the room in a fleet of anger. You your mother were left alone. You looked up at her with blurry eyes and a shattered heart.

"Mom" You croaked out only to be met with the shake of her head and a sigh before leaving the room after your father.

At ballet class you could forget about most things in life that had left you troubled. The sound of the music and the way your body had reacted to it had left your mind empty. You could only think of the simple things in life. The easy things. It was simple that you loved ballet. At one point in your life you would have given anything to dance, it was your striving force in life.

It kept you going, it was the most important thing to you no matter what. It left you wondering when exactly all that had changed, because here you were doing something you know without a doubt your sixteen yourself would be absolutely mortified to see.

You were giving it up. You were giving up your number one passion in life. The one thing you couldn't live without. Or you thought. Because it seemed you had found something else worth living for. Someone else.

Sunghoon had meant too much to you, and you'd be damned if you'd let a love like his go.

Some people would call you absolutely foolish for making this decision but you didn't care. You would choose Sunghoon in every single lifetime.

After Dance had wrapped up you felt like you had made peace with your decision, preparing yourself for the fight that would be inevitably happening when you got home and informed your parents of your rebellious decision to stay with Sunghoon and give up dance.

You left the dance class building with your duffel bag slung over shoulder and your head held high. What you didn't expect to see upon leaving the double doors was Sunghoon casually leaning against his motorcycle, hands in his pockets looking just as ethereal as he always did.

"Sunghoon!" You said rushing to him, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tight. "What are doing here?" You said smiling up at him.

He smile was small, the look on his face slightly grim. It had made your stomach drop in an uneasiness you didn't like at all.

"What's wrong?" You asked with urgency. His arms wound tighter around your frame holding you impossibly close to him.

"Should we go somewhere?" You asked pulling away to hop on to the back of his motorcycle like you had a million and one times before. Before you could reach his motorcycle Sunghoon was pulling on your arm lightly.

"What's that bruise on your face" His voice was stern, a tone you were not used to hearing from him. "It...it was my father" You said horsely "But, it's ok." You rushed out quickly. "I'm giving up dance, I'm telling him today"

The smile was back beaming up at Sunghoon with a lovesick look on your face.

"What?" Sunghoon spit on "Y/n you can't do that"

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion at his words. You had thought he would be happy to hear this. You and him would be able to be together without all the fighting from your dad since he would no longer be able to hold the funding for dancing over your head.

Sunghoon's reaction was the exact opposite of what you were expecting it to be.

"What?" The confusion was evident on your face "I thought- I thought you would be happy about this?"

"You thought that I would happy that your'e giving up the best thing in your life up for me? Your god given talent. No. I cant let you" Your heart had felt heavy at his words, the reality of what was happening sinking in.

"Sunghoon..he's going to take my funding away anyway." You said looking up at him. He averted his gaze from you, looking down at the floor. "We can't keep it a secret again he's going to be on me so much harder now..."

"We're not keeping it a secret Y/n" Sunghoon's voice was weak and frail sounding. It was the most small I had ever heard him speak.

"I think.." He trailed off his eyes still not meeting yours no matter how much you silently pleaded for them to. "I think we should stop seeing each other Y/n."

"No" You said weakly "No, no forget about my-"

"It's not about that y/n" Sunghoon interrupted you with a sigh. "I can't let you give up dance ok? Not for me"

There was an ache so deep in your chest you felt like it was going to explode. The contents of your shattered heart to be on full display for everyone to witness.

"You're not 'letting me' I'm choosing to Sunghoon it's my choice." You fought back, your voice cracking breaking the smallest chance you had of seeming strong.

"You're only doing it for me y/n and I cant accept that. I won't be the reason you give up something you’re so amazing at." He took a deep breath grabbing onto your shaking hands bringing them to his lips and kissing them lightly.

"You once told me that dance was your world, that it was the one thing that had ever made you feel important. I would never forgive myself for being the source of that all coming to a stop." He let go of your hands, a glisten to his eyes that you had never seen from him before. It had shaken you to your core.

"Please" You whispered "pl-"

"I love you." Sunghoon said sternly. "Go be the greatest ballet dancer this world has ever seen ok?"

He left a single kiss to your temple, not allowing you to say another word before he was getting back onto his motorcycle. Helmet in his hand he says "Take care of yourself y/n"

The tears continued to fall down your face as you watched him speed off down the street cursing yourself for not fighting harder, for allowing his words to render you motionless.

The next few weeks had felt like a fever dream, an emotionless blur you were a robot of yourself. Eating, sleeping and speaking only when necessary.

You were getting ready for one of the biggest recitals of your career. A lot of important people were coming to watch you dance. Normally you'd be excited, nervous but ready. Now you felt shallow. You didn't care who was going to be there you didn't care that this was one of the most highly anticipated recitals for most of the dance world. In truth you just wanted to get it over with.

The night of the recital was becoming a blur. Your mother and father were there in the crowd awaiting your grand entrance. Your makeup was down flawlessly, you hair in a slick by high bun and your corset top tight to your chest.

You should feel beautiful, radiant even but all you could think about was how you didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to get on stage and dance for all these people. You didn’t want the pressure and most certainly didn’t want hundreds of eyes watching you like a hawk only to judge your every move.

“You’re up” Your dance instructor said coming up behind you startling you from your thoughts. You nod your head at her readying yourself to get on stage.

The Music began, you ran out to center stage under the spot light moving your body in all the ways you were taught. The routine going off without a hitch. You start to feel yourself starting to enjoy it when all of a sudden a flash of certain someone’s face had made that all come crashing down.

Sunghoon was tucked into the very back of the theater but you wouldn’t dare miss his face. You could point him out in a room full of a million people. He sat there eyes ablaze as he watched you dance. His presence had overwhelmed you, it had distracted you. One wrong leap into the air and you were hurriedly down hitting the floor hard with a big thump, your head slamming into the floor boards below you leaving you in a daze. Your body was frigid, the mortification of falling in front of all these people seeping in like a chill to your bones.

You would never live this down. Your father would be furious and you might as well kiss your chances with all these reps goodbye.

You had fell. During a simple leap you had let yourself slip. It had felt like a punch to the gut when your instructor had ran out to the stage, shouting for them to close the curtains cutting off all visibility of you and your utter humiliation.

“Y/n?!” A frantic voice was heard from the crowd. A deep, husky voice you had loved. It was Sunghoon, Sunghoon was here and you weren’t imaging it. He had come to watch you on the most important night of your life and you had ruined it.

You head was spinning and your vision blurry. You heard frantic shouting from voices you didn’t know and some that sounded familiar but you couldn’t quit place them.

Then suddenly all you could see was darkness.

The sound of beeping and thin white walls was what you had awoken to much later on. Your head was groggy and your mind a jumbled mess of itself.

You knew what happened i mean how could you forget but you didn’t know how you had ended up here. The conclusion that you had passed out had been easy to come to after a few minutes of thinking about it.

You looked around your room, it was empty save for some clothing items strewn about that indicated that people had been in here with you.

The sound of muffled speaking just outside the door also a clear indication that someone was here with you. Probably your parents. But foolishly enough you couldn’t help the small amount of hope that Sunghoon had come. He had shouted for you at theater, that you were sure of. You just didn’t know if he’d come here, where your family most likely occupied. In truth he was the only person you actually wanted to see.

“Hello?” You said hoarsely the words not coming out loud enough to penetrate the door and be heard outside. So instead you pressed the nurses button notifying them that you were awake. Within a minute or two a nurse rushed in with your mom quick on her heels.

“You’re awake!” Your Mother wailed grabbing your hand as the nurse started to inspect you a bit closer. “How do you feel?”

“Ok” You said voice still hoarse and scratchy. You looked around the room, your eyes landing on a black leather jacket that you knew all too well.

“Sunghoon” you said in a whisper looking up at your mom with wide eyes gaging her reaction.

“He’s here sweetheart” Your Mother said rubbing your hand with her palm. “He came..He’s just outside-“

“Tell him to come in” You said quickly, taking your mom aback a bit. “Please” You added on.

Your mother nodded getting up from her spot besides you. She reached the door hand on the handle before turning around to look at you. “Your father did not come” She said, a glum look on her face. “I’m sorry”

You nodded, the hurt from him not being here stung more than you expected but it was painfully obvious that your father was not going to change his mind. It was something you were going to have to accept no matter how much it hurt you.

A few minutes later the door opened revealing Sunghoon in his plan white tea and black jeans.

“Sunghoon” You didn’t know what else to say. The embarrassment from falling earlier creeping in on you.

“I’m sorry” He blurted out before you could say anything else. He sat next to you occupying the spot your mother was just in. “I’m so sorry Y/n” There was a crack to his voice you had never heard before, one that had surprised you.

“Why are you sorry?” You asked confusion laced in your words. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

He shook his head a tear falling from his eye. “I thought that letting you go was for the best. That being a dancer was the most important thing for you to do..and i’m sorry for making that decision for you. When i seen your head hit that floor today as hard as it did i had felt a pain i had never felt never. I fear i had never felt before.” He cupped my cheek lightly lifting my head to look at him. Tears fell down my cheeks, his thumb whipping them away in one swift motion.

“I love you, i’ll support you in whatever you want to do. I’ll get 4, 5, 6 jobs if i need to, to help you pay to keep dancing if that’s what you want. i don’t care. i just want to be with you.” This was a side of Sunghoon you had never seen before, a vulnerable side he hadn’t really ever shown anyone.

“You don’t have to beg” You teased “I love you too” You leaned you forehead on his “We’ll get through this i promise” You kissed him. It was soft and delicate and light and sweet and perfect. You didn’t know what was going to happen after this. You didn’t know how your dad would fair with this, or what kind of life you were going to live but all you knew was that it was going to be with Sunghoon, and that really was all you needed.

Guys. i’m literally so sorry. This was absolutely TRASH. It was going so good in the beginning and then it just spiraled down down down. Hopefully you give me another chance in the future lol.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐫��𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬. ©𝐡𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐨

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