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.
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Missing Pieces : Fontaine x f!Reader
Summary: After supposedly returning from a shooting he can't remember, Fontaine's memory seems to be a little jacked as something doesn't feel right. He sits down with Slick Charles, trying to connect the missing pieces in his daily routine, while everyone tries to explain to him that someone's missing...
Warning(s): Violence, Angst, Amnesia, etc.
It was loud, it was close, almost like it was right in front of him.
BANG!
A gun shot rang out.
Fontaine's eyes burst open, he sits up with a startled breath, almost choking on the first gasp he lets out.
Putting a hand against his chest, feeling for the indent of a bullet hole he was sure had gone through him at some point. But there was none, only the raised scars from a few mishaps or scuffles with any dumb motherfucker that used to try him. The ghost of pain was strange, as he shook himself out of his slumber it quickly settled and numbed to nothing. But it wasn't really even a memory, a nightmare?
He'd gotten shot before, never flat out in the chest like he'd felt when he got up. Somehow, he imagined it would've felt differently. But, then again, it was only a nightmare.
Fontaine ran a hand down his face, sighing heavily. The nightmare faded from his mind, he couldn't even remember what it was about, but it had left him shaken.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he seemed to wait for something, looking beside himself to see if anyone were sleeping at his bedside. It was empty, the other side's cover tucked tight.
Brows furrowing at the weird feeling that the morning had already brought for him, Fontaine huffed out a breath and stood, preparing for his day.
He got dressed, throwing on the white sweatshirt and a pair of worn down jeans, as he pulled them on, he caught sight of a silver chain on his dresser, a threaded cross at the end.
Walking over to it, he took it and looked it over, it was unfamiliar to the eye but he could've sworn at some moment he had probably worn it, or he had seen it on somebody else. He pockets it, leaving the room.
Outside, he meets up with his boys, the gang crowding at the corner, waiting on him. On the front yard, Fontaine lays on the lifting bench, putting an ungodly number of rusted plates on the bar before pressing the weight with no assistance.
The two other swole muhfuckas huddle around him hyping him up, throwing insults to goad him to a few more lifts as he nears his next rep, "One more! Weak ass nigga!" Fontaine huffs a puff of air, muscles flexing as he lifts another. "One more!"
"Hey Fontaine!" Junebug yells as he runs over, a Caprisun in his grasp.
Fontaine racks the weight with no problem, sitting up, he looks to the kid as he stops in front of him with a toothy smile, looking around. "Where she at, man?" Junebug asks, suddenly looking disappointed.
Fontaine raised a brow, before standing taking his jacket off the ground, "What you doin' here, Junebug?"
"(Y/n)," the kid says, "Where she at, huh?"
"I ain't got yo' babysitter, lil man." The name sounds familiar for a split second, until it doesn't.
Junebug frowns. "Did you get in a fight again?"
"What the fuck you talkin' bout, Junebug? I dunno no bitch named..." he pauses a minute, catching sight of a car, a 1975 AMC Pacer, a dark yellow color. It was parked up down the block, just behind his Pontiac.
Ignoring Junebug's nonsensical questions, Fontaine turns to Big Moss, who holds a handheld fan to his face, "Yo' nigga, who car is that?" he points to the Pacer.
Big Moss looks over, squinting a bit, "Ain't that yo' honey's, mane?"
"Ma' honey?" Fontaine made a face, clearly the only person lost here. "The fuck you on?"
The rest of the gang around made sour faces, some clearing their throats and turning at the suddenly uncomfortable conversation, attempting to nosily mind their businesses. "Not no mo', I guess," Big Moss says, awkwardly. Clearing his throat, "It's cool mane."
"The fuck--" Fontaine's interrupted.
"You and (y/n) ain't together no mo'?" Junebug looks disheartened. "What you do?"
"Ya'll niggas crazy, I ain't know no bitch named (y/n)--"
"Fonnie..." a gentle whisper in his ear startles him. A woman leans in close to him, he feels her hands drag up the side of his torso and up his chest from behind, hugging him close for just a second...
He turns quick.
His eyes instinctually cut to the yellow Pacer at the corner of the street as he finds no one to blame behind him. "Crazy..." he repeats, maybe about himself.
Fontaine decides to get in his car, driving to the liquor store. He buys a lotto and a routine bottle of Anaconda Malt Liquor. As he unscrews the cap, taking a swig, he hopes for a buzz or a sense clarity that never hits him, maybe it was time for something a little stronger.
He scratches the lotto, and the same outcome taunts him back with a 'You Lose' in bold. Tossing it to the ground, he walks back towards his car, coming up towards Frog, the homeless old man that always had some riddle to say. And he didn't disappoint. "Lovin' n' holdin an' they just takin' n' stealin', ey youngblood?" Frog says, holding up the styrofoam cup as Fontaine pours a good bit of the liquor to his cup.
"Yeah, Frog," Fontaine sighs, used to the nonsensical jabber. "Yeah."
Leaning up against the side of his car, he takes a drink, before reaching into his pocket, pulling out the chain he'd found in his bedroom earlier. He brings it up to look closely, in some way he recognized it, but not enough to recognize it as something he'd worn in the past few days or even months.
As he holds the chain, he notices a smear of red along his finger, rubbing his thumb at the stain on the silver, rubbing off the red. He stares at it on his fingers, he recognizes it to be lipstick, a soft red shade.
Even more confused, he huffs out a breath, but he holds the chain tight in his grip, trying to think of any moment in time that he could've possibly been given it, or anyone that could've left it. He hadn't let anyone in his house in a while, let alone his bedroom, the last woman he had slept with had been...fuck when was the last time he'd gotten laid?
For some reason, he was convinced it wasn't as long ago as he thought.
He gets in his car, driving back towards home.
That's when he catches sight of someone. At the end of the street, a black man in a white sweatshirt limps down the road, his chest stained with red. He's on his knees, curling his arms around someone, dragging the person onto their feet, but they're limp in his grip, dead. A woman, jeans wet with blood and knit sweater falling off her shoulders torn and smeared with red. She's pretty, gorgeous even, from what he can see from here.
The man struggles to stand to his feet with her again, his shoulders shake from the effort or from the angry sobs that wracked through him. Fontaine can see that every movement is agony, he watches as the man hacks up a mouthful of blood. He'd been shot too.
As he hacks up a lungful, the man's eyes flicker up to see Fontaine driving past. They look at one another.
And for a moment, Fontaine sees himself. Literally. His hair, his eyes, his clothes even which he was wearing at this current moment. He forgets he's still pressing on the gas when he loses sight of him.
Fontaine stomps on the brake, stopping the car, he looks to the rearview mirror, quick. When did he start breathing so heavy? It had to just be a coincidence, just a trick of light or of his mind. That can't be him.
Interrupting his thoughts, a black van drives into the area, nearly clipping the Pontiac as it swerves around the corner and towards the couple.
"NO, NO, Nooo! NO!" the man even sounds like him..."Get the fuck away from us! Get the fuck off--! No!" he's cut off by the slamming of the car doors, muffling his screams and driving off quick.
All that's left of them is the red stain against the cement.
As he makes it home, trying his best to forget about the strange event, Fontaine pockets the chain he forgot he was still clutching.
He makes a sandwich, cutting it in half, he walks to his mother's door and knocks, "Mama, you hungry?"
She answers. "Nah, I'm good, baby. Josephine had a fish fry last night, I'm still full."
He walks away from the door, covering the plate for later and making another sandwich. He must've blanked out because next thing he knows he's making two new peanut butter sandwiches, cutting the crusts off one of them absently. Slowly stopping, he places the knife down, confused with himself.
He takes one of the sandwiches, sits down on the couch and turns on the TV. As a poorly filmed commercial starts, he swipes his malt liquor off the table and takes a swig. "--Gon getcha summa dis here limited-time-only Hotbox Spicy Chicken! Cause remember, who needs all these vices when you've got all these herbs and spices--" the narrator continues as folks dance after every bite.
A commercial he's seem about a hundred times, before another came on about perm cream.
Fontaine zoned out, chewing silently on his sandwich, wondering why everything seemed so off today. Who was (y/n)? Did he just imagine seeing himself today? Who's fucking chain was this?!
He tosses the chain across the table, it hits a box of pizza that halts its slide to the floor.
That's when he noticed the pizza box at the table, eyes narrowing as he quickly thought of someone. Slick Charles. "Motherfucka'..." he stands and takes his keys off the hook.
---
"You saw me, what?"
"Die, muhfucka!" Slick Charles repeats with an agitated yell. "I saw you and yo honey!"
This is the second time someone mentioned his 'honey'.
"I'm clearly not dead, nigga, where's my money?"
"There are more pressing issues to discuss here, nigga!" Slick Charles backs away from Fontaine, looking around his chest for bullet holes, anything to declare the man, undead. "Look if you don't believe me, we'll get, Yo-yo! She'll know, she done lef' around the time you came in, alrigh'?!"
Fontaine glared at the pimp, before rolling his eyes and exiting the hotel to make his way to his car, Slick Charles following. For some reason, his mind drifted to earlier that morning, seeing the couple, covered in blood and dying on the street.
Finding Yo-Yo about to sell some ass for a $50, they interrupt the transaction, getting the sassy prostitute in the car, clad in a fur coat and yellow boots, she sneers at them both. "Ya'll owe me, 50!"
Fontaine gets to the point, hushing the woman. "I need to ask you somethin'," he begins. "You seen me?" he asks, tentatively, almost in a whisper. Asking meant admitting to some degree that he thought he was actually dead and had come back. In some way, that would explain his very realistic nightmare.
"Not like that, nigga..."
"Nah, I mean...you seen me?" he questioned again, quieter this time, serious.
"Yes, nigga, I saw you," Yo-Yo admits, truthfully. "And wasn't (y/n) witchu? I ain't seen her, she ight?"
Slick Charles leaned back in his seat, remembering seeing the young woman in the car before the shoot out started. "Aw no," he whispered.
Fontaine glanced back at the pimp, confused and angry. "Who the fuck ya'll talkin' bout, man? Who's (y/n)?!" he hits the steering wheel, tired of the day, and the dumb shit that's been getting to him lately. "What bitch ya'll think I'm fuckin' with, huh!"
"Well ain't she give you that?" Yo-Yo pointed to the chain on his neck. The cross he had tossed and decided to take with him, he had just absently put it on, almost out of instinct.
"You know who's this is?" Fontaine held the cross up to her face.
"Uh, yeah, nigga, what's wrong wit you?" she gives him a distasteful look.
"Who?!"
"(y/n)!"
"You--"
Slick Charles slaps down a polaroid photo on the console divider, "So you tryna tell me, you don't remember her?"
Fontaine looks down, choosing to ignore the change in tone, Slick Charles has his pointer finger in the middle of an unfamiliar photo, he picks it up. The car is dead silent now as he holds it up to his face, luckily he had parked under a street lamp, providing him a little light to see.
Fontaine's eyes widen as he sees her fully for the first time. (Y/N).
They're frozen in time in the photo, in a paused state of a love he couldn't remember. She presses a smooth kiss to the side of his face, he wraps an around around her waist, pulling her into his lap, his expression was softer than normal despite a lack of a smile. But he wasn't looking at his lips, but the way he'd leaned into her, held her close, he'd never done that before, always keeping his distance from any actual relationship that he recalled in his life.
So this was (y/n)?
He felt he would've remembered someone like her. Why didn't he?
"Remember 'er now?" Slick Charles asked.
"I'm gon' need you to tell me what exactly you saw last night," Fontaine's eyes flickered to Yo-Yo, he's gratefully for how dark it is, he had a feeling now that he had seen her today, drove past her, let someone take her away. What the hell was going on?
---
There was an elevator that led down under the Glen, this tiny town was somehow apart of an entire experiment, for what? He didn't know.
But, it seemed to involve him. Involve you. And involve all the people of The Glen. And if he wanted to know why he seemed to have died late last night, he needed to find out what exactly was going on.
Luckily, he had some help, although he would've preferred a smarter duo, he was stuck with them.
As Slick Charles held his gold gun up to the pale-skinned scientist with a clean shaven afro, giggling and spasming seemingly uncontrollably, Fontaine made his way around the lab.
Yo-Yo began to mess with a few of the strange sets of chemicals within the lab, taking notice of the lack of experimental subjects: like mice or even rabbits, nothing. She tipped a beaker, blew on the white dust, she supposed was cocaine and swirled a bit of a blue liquid in a test tube.
Fontaine found two surgical tables, blue sheets over each figure that seemed to lay atop the metal slabs. Not a single breath moved through the sheets, nothing to signify either one was alive.
He moved one sheet first, it was you. (Y/N)...
And everything suddenly started flooding back in waves.
"Wake up..." she breathes, tapping his cheek as she yawns against his chest.
"I'm awake..." he responds, tiredly.
"No, you're not," she grumbles, before sitting up a little. The movement coaxes him awake, his arm pulling around her shoulders tighter to get her to lay back down.
"Be quiet," he pulls her down on him, she chuckles, conceding.
He scoffs out a humored hum, turning over her, they drift off for another hour or so, awakening to kiss the other. He's leaning over her, the chain she had given him, swinging in front of her face, hanging off his neck.
Fontaine notices it, taking it off in that moment and placing it on the dresser, "No, hey, that keeps you safe," you protest as he moves to shift between your legs. "Don't take it off, Fonnie."
"Yeah, well right now, it's distractin'," he squeezes your thigh, bringing one of your legs over his right shoulder. "I'll put it on later, if you're so worked up bout it."
"Ok, ohh--k, yeah..." he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, letting you take hold of a handful of his locs, your nails running through his scalp in a way that just told him to keep going. "Fon'..." you gasp as he cups the skin of your ass to move down lower, greedily.
After another hour of consuming the presence of one another for the morning, you both move through the day as you usually would. Fontaine would bench press a few reps with guys, you would start making campaign flyers for the protests during the week. He'd leave with Junebug later unbeknownst to you and deal with an amateur dealer that made the dumb decision to sell on his side of the streets. When he comes back, Fontaine and you would head to the store together, he'd get his usual Anaconda Malt Liquor and you'd usually go for a Moscato if not a pack of swedish fish. Pass by Frog for another daily lesson in senile obscurity and pour him a cup.
Heading back home, they'd have breakfast together, sometimes you'd make eggs and bacon, other times Fontaine would make the only thing he really knew how to which were peanut butter sandwiches. You hated the crusts, so he'd always cut them for you. You'd call him soft and he'd sit pause mid-way to let you finish yourself in bitter defiance, to which you'd quickly take back your statement. "Wait, wait, I'm kidding," you laughed. "Come on, finish, you cut them the best! Fonnie!"
"That's all you, baby," he took a bite of his. "All you."
"No, I'm sorry, please, please," you begged, wrapping your arms around him to pull him back to the kitchen. "Come on, Fonnie--"
"How many times I gotta tell you to stop wit' that, Fonnie shi', huh?"
"But I thought you liked it when I called you, Fonnie?" you teased with a smile.
"Fonnie sounds like a bitch, I ain't no bitch."
"You're my bitch though," you cackled.
"Whatchu say?" he turned, surprised at the answer. And you took off running. "Naw, bitch, get your ass back here, whatchu say!"
"Nothing!" You laughed as you ran through the house away from him. "I'm sorry!" you put your hands up as he grabbed at you, the two of you soon enough laughing together.
"Getch your ass back here!"
Later in the day, Fontaine recalls the customer dealings of his business, remembering that Slick Charles still owed him a pay day since last week. Fontaine got to his feet, took his keys, and you accompanied him into the pontiac, tapping the insignia on the hood of your Pacer car parked behind.
Driving off, the two of you enjoyed a moment with each other, you leaned over the console between you both, singing to the song on the radio. "I need a hug...I need a hug..." you nuzzled your face against his shoulder.
"You need to be quiet," he snickered, emphasizing 'Need', glancing over to you as he drove, one hand on the wheel, the other on your thigh, and you just kept at it.
He finally parked up by The Royal, a hotel across The Glen, where he knew Slick Charles would be. "Stay here," Fontaine said before leaving the car.
You roll down the window, sticking your head out to wave towards the pimp as your boyfriend forces his way into the hotel room. "Hi, Slick!"
"(Y/n)! Why you ain't tell yo' violent ass nigga to show some goddamn muhfuckin' respect!" he yells mostly towards Fontaine, who glowers at him in return, threatening to punch him right in the grills if he don't keep his mouth shut.
You duck back into the car, choosing to let the two men figure their shit out, instead opening the windscreen, watching as a photo fell out to your lap. A little picture of the two of you, you recalled the day, you'd only been officially together for a few months at the time, but you were happier than ever.
Looking up you take notice of another photo, of Ronnie, you had never met the boy, but you had always wished to, knowing what had happened to the sweet kid, always made your heart clench with tears. You pressed two fingers to your lips and to the still frame of Ronnie, breathing sadly, in some way you felt you knew him, maybe had met him, caught glimpses of him in the street when you were younger.
A beep is heard, startling you to drop the polaroid of you and Fontaine, it slips between the seats and you curse, "Shit, ugh," you glare back at the car that had stopped behind the Pontiac, before driving driving again. "Motherfucker!" You sneered at the driver, who just kept his windows up, music blasting, glass shrouded in smoke.
Fontaine soon returned to the car, pocketing the fraction that Slick Charles had made, not enough to fully pay him back though. "You ready?"
"Yeah, I--" then you saw the same car rolling backwards, coming to a slow park just behind the trunk. But, it was the man walking up to Fontaine's side of the window that really terrified you. "Fon--!"
He turns a little too late, "GET DOWN!" just pulling out his gun when the window shatters, the car being layered with bullets, the young man on the other side frantically emptying the clip. The click of an empty magazine is the only thing left to hear besides the bass drum of the radio of the assaulting vehicle.
The young man stumbles backwards, stuffing the weapon into his shirt and racing into the car for a getaway, as the car speeds off from the scene, Fontaine takes a shuttered breath. Blood spilling from between his lips, his hand achingly coming up to feel the holes that had ripped straight through him.
"(Y/n)..." he heaved out, he turns his head as much as he can, every movement a strain on his failing organs. "(y/n)..." he said again, hoping you'd say anything. "Say somethin'," he huffs out, panicked. Say you're ok. "Say it..." he breathes. "Say it..." he repeats as he struggles to breathe, hoping he'd live a little longer to get some fucking help.
He reaches for you, his fingers inching towards yours, but you were already gone.
And then that's when the van comes around. A few men, white guys in black suits wrapped in plastic, gloved hands and unbothered looks as they swing open the car door. "Woah, he's still alive," Fontaine hears one of them say. "Do we still take him?"
Who the fuck were they?
Obviously they weren't police, or ER, or even some random passerby's.
"Won't last long, so yeah," another says, opening up the opposite door. "Not sure about this one though." He was talking about you, Fontaine was sure.
Fontaine blinked, blacking out a moment before breathing harshly once, as if his heart had stopped in that split second, he was somewhere else now. Suddenly, he had been hauled into the van.
"Guess we'll just have to wipe the next one till we can get a copy going, right?"
"Dunno, we've never had to do that before. Damn, this is going to be a lot of paperwork," the white guy sighs out before turning you in your seat, Fontaine finally gets a good look at you as he lays there trying to keep his eyes open. Your sweater was drenched in your blood, and probably a bit of his, the side of your face wet and broken up from the bullet through your temple. You had died as soon as it happened.
Fontaine felt his heart drop, blood filled his throat and he choked on the feeling, but he wasn't sure if it was from the heartache or the puncture. "...'er go..." he gurgled out, eliciting the attention of the disturbed men around him.
There was a pause. "Was that you or him?"
"Well, it wasn't me..." one of the collectors said.
"Let 'er go, muhfucker," Fontaine managed.
They had begun to drive, going around the corner and away from The Royal motel.
"Shit, he really is still alive," the white man gapped, but he still began to haul you out of the car. "We're not really supposed to talk to y--" then there was a gunshot.
Startling all of them as the man that had begun to unceremoniously strap you down to the metal, fell back and too his knees, silently. A bullet between the eyes. The van swerved in the mens sudden panic.
Fontaine had still had a hand on the handle of his gun all this time, the only issue had been getting the energy to pull the trigger. And he let his hand go around to pull again on the white man that moved to pry the gun from his grip, "No, stop!" the collector had shouted, but the gun went off again, this time right through his hip. "Ahh!"
"Oh, shit! Hey, get up!" picking his co-workers up off the floor, "Get the hell out of here, we'll send another unit!" the only uninjured stranger hauled the others into the van as Fontaine stumbles out of the car taking you with him, trying to get a locked eye on the last of them as they drive off and away from the scene as if they hadn't even been there.
And so, Fontaine sat on the curb for a moment, holding you tight, wondering if anyone else would try to just snatch them off the street again. He watched as the van drove off fast, he wondered why they had bothered to do all of that. To kidnap him off the street, as if they had known exactly who he was, where he would be and that he'd be shot. What did they mean by make a copy later?
Fontaine swayed, wondering how he had even lasted this long. He let his head settle against yours, he wished for the little snore of yours that would usually coax him to sleep. He recalled the first time you had fallen asleep against him, the first time he caught himself falling asleep next to you. Pretty much the first of any time he had let anyone catch him slipping.
And he waited for a single breath to slip from you, to bring him even a sliver of comfort.
But it never came.
Even in the early morning, when he found himself staring into the eyes of...himself? Driving by in the very same car that had been totaled to shit in the parking lot of The Royal motel.
Even when the same black van swept by, turning to haul the two of them up off the street and into the van. They don't let their guard down like the others, and he breathes for the last time in that van, holding tight to your hand, just before they pull you both apart.
- - -
It's not a memory that he can grasp onto, because it's not his to have. Just a copy of moments he's never lived.
And they flood his mind.
Fontaine leans over your dead body that laid on that cold slab of metal, the familiarity becoming knowing, absence of memory becomes an overflow of moments he knew he hadn't lived but he could still hold onto.
As the labs alarms go off, he takes you into his arms, ready to take you out of this horrible place, get you some place warm.
Something the previous version of him, hadn't been able to do. But, he was pulled to do the same as his previous self had tried for you.
"Come on, I got you," he spoke, miserably.
It was like speaking to a lover he had never had. But it was also like losing one he had never said goodbye to.
"Come on, please," Fontaine undid the straps, pulling the plastic sheet laid across your naked flesh. He shivered, you were cold, "I've got you," he stares down at the floor as he holds you in his arms. Memories still flooding his mind, sensations, sounds and feelings only a single version of him had experienced, and it wasn't him.
But he still knew he had loved you.
Slick Charles and Yo-Yo pull him from the lab, the alarm sounding loudly, meaning whoever owned this place would be on their way, forced to leave you on that metal slab, next to the original version of himself.
Fontaine was on that elevator. But, a piece of himself stayed down there, and he'd be back to find it again.
"Believe us now?" Slick Charles spoke the question almost sympathetically.
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