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#i have not heard this song in a while holy shit-

itsbenedict · 2 days

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y'know, i still listen to My Brother My Brother and Me- and i keep hearing rumblings like "oh, they've gone downhill" from people. and i don't really get that? like, it's still pretty good.

i've got criticisms. the wizard is only like 80% as good as yahoo answers as a core bit, i don't much like the new theme song and i think the motive for switching was a masterstroke of totally unnecessary cowardice (did they really think they'd be cancelled over being affiliated with Bean Dad?), and it feels like the plugs and promos they always do at the end have been growing- but like, they're still funny.

except- and i just don't understand this- this one particular bit they keep doing. they mostly save it for live shows, and that's baffling to me because "With Special Guest" seems to be so thoroughly devoid of comedy that i don't know why they've decided it's a crowd-pleaser.

like- if you haven't heard it, the game is: Travis finds a clip from Saturday Night Live, in particular a bit where the celebrity special guest introduces a band that's going to be performing. just the star going "ladies and gentlemen: Name of Band". Travis tells them who the celebrity and the band are, and Justin and Griffin are then tasked with guessing the line delivery in the clip.

that's the whole bit. they try to guess how a random celebrity sounds while delivering a completely perfunctory line on someone else's TV show. and they all seem to think this is funny, for some reason! like usually, when there's a real stinker of a bit, like Play Along At Home, they can at least turn it alchemy-like into laughs by riffing on the concept or being deliberately stupid about it. but in With Special Guest, they all seem to buy in one hundred percent, genuinely trying to predict what the line delivery will be like, naming several completely banal and uninteresting possible options. all of those guesses are almost without exception totally wrong, and the actual delivery is a different completely banal and uninteresting instance of a celebrity saying the name of a band. (this is then followed up with "holy SHIT" and a shocked reaction to the reveal, as if it were somehow mind-blowing and hilarious.)

like- am i missing something? do other people think this is funny somehow? where is the joke? is it... is it like, one of those anti-comedy things, and the joke is how long they can do it without cracking? but the audience laughs, too, so like- what's going on with them? am i the weird one here?

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raeofgayshine · 2 years

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alsksls fam !! you like sub radio too !!!!! they're one of my favorite bands now i love them sm !!!

Yeah!!! Their music is so good! I found them through their Stacy’s Dad song they did, my sister sent it to me, and then I started listening to their other stuff and it’s so good. Like their music is exactly the kind that I love and the lyrics are perfection. And it’s like, the kind of good that I like so much I can hear not only the lyrics but all the instruments and I could just listen to the music and it would be such a vibe and there’s not a lot of music I feel that way about. They are easily at the top of my favorites right now.

What are your favorite songs? I haven’t listened to a whole lot because my brain has just wanted to listen to the few I already know on repeat so I haven’t gotten around to listening to a bunch.

But I *love* Cool, Better Than That, Room For You, What You Want To Hear, Out Of My Mind, and 1990 Something.

Room For You is definitely my top one, I just love the “We’re not in love, but my heart still has room for you” vibe as an aro person.

But Cool is also so good because it is a trans song!! It went straight on my gender playlist.

#ravenpuff answers #hi Elliot is excited about music again everyone pretend to be surprised quick #i wish I had the better words to explain exactly what I love that didn’t require me to go through each song and point it out bit by but #which is tempting but also I understand there is a line #anyways Emery I’m so excited that you love Sub Radio also!!! i can see it very much being your vibes #i think I actually heard Cool because you shared it in discord at some point? maybe during pride?#fun fact about Cool: I recently realized it fit perfectly for one of my ocs #Mason Grace who changed xyr name found better friend and a place xe didn’t have to pretend #paints xyr nails and has blue hair and is fucking cool and makes it look easy #i was listening to it the other day while doing yoga and went ‘holy shit this is just Mason Grace’#anyways I’ll stop rambling now

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seungbinbin · 1 year

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meet ugly - hyung line ver.

not every couple has a fairytale start !!

a/n: first headcanons ! idk if i like this format but i thought i could try <3 lmk what u think ! i was also sleep deprived and delirious writing this but i think it’s a little funny heh

warnings: curse words, very ridiculous writing, mentions of food, gn reader ! (lmk if i missed anything!!)

bang chan

you found out there was a new neighbor on your floor

and you were just so excited to make a new friend

plus you heard the lady from the leasing office saying he was really cute 🫣

so you decided to be nice and bake him some muffins for breakfast <33333

what you didn’t know was that your neighbor stayed up until 4am producing a new song

so when you knocked on his door at 8am, bright and early, interrupting his much needed sleep…yeah, he wasn’t very happy

“what do you want? 😒”

oh 😟

you just hand him the muffins, mumble a quick sorry and RUN

he only realizes how rude he was after he wakes up a second time, hours later, seeing the HOMEMADE muffins sitting on his counter with a little note

“welcome neighbor !!!! :)))”

oh my fucking god 😭 he just HAS to apologize

when he finds you (literally knocks on every door on your floor) he says he’s so very sorry and he’s speaking so fast it makes you giggle

“it’s okay, breathe!”

and he decides right then and there that he’ll make it up to you by taking you out for coffee 😋

lee know

studying at a coffee shop was the best thing ever for you

it made it easier to concentrate on your work, it smelled delicious, and the baristas knew you so they always gave you a little cake pop for free <3

you had been hard at work for hours :( poor baby, midterm season is ROUGH

deciding to take a break to rest your eyes from looking at your screen, and your hands from writing, you took a look around and spotted the most beautiful man you had ever seen in your entire life: lee minho !

his hands were full and he looked very annoyed and you thought "woah that's so much coffee!"

what you didn't know is that he had lost the rock, paper, scissors game for coffee duty <///3

and now he was a little (very) irritated carrying 8 cups of coffee

trying to balance 8 large iced americanos was kind of hard, especially in a crowded coffee shop in the middle of lunch rush

but he had everything under control !

until someone bumped into him while he walked past your table

suddenly there was coffee everywhere; on his shirt, on his face and hair, on your face and hair...and all over your table

thankfully, you had managed to pull your laptop away from the disaster before any coffee got on it

however...your review was all wet and messed up

your 6 page, hand-written review you had been working on for the past 4 hours

"holy shit, i'm so sorry-"

and then you were crying 🧍🏻‍♀️ he didn't know what to do

when you explained everything, he offered to rewrite the review for you 🥹

he took the soggy papers with him, then asked for your number (just to ask what he should write and give you the review, totally not because you were the cutest ever! )

changbin

changbin was having an off-day at the gym

he had been trying to beat his last pr but something felt…off

maybe he pulled a muscle while practicing choreography, or his new pre-workout never kicked in

whatever it was, his mind-muscle connection was off and it was beginning to frustrate him

he was so stiff and crampy and ready to go home after his barely-successful arm day >:(

he was angrily typing on his phone with one hand, complaining about his day to chan and holding a 40 pound dumbbell on the other

definitely not watching where he was going !

he walked right into a bench and hit his shin very hard ! ouchie !

which made him lose his grip on the dumbbell and he dropped it

…right on your foot 🥴

“OW, FUCK!”

“oh NO, ARE YOU HURT!?”

“OF COURSE I AM, YOU ASSHOLE, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!”

please don’t yell at him he didn’t mean to ! he tears up when he sees you start to cry in pain :(

so he apologizes (and keeps doing so as he carries you to his car so he can drive you to the hospital)

when you told him your roommates were out of town and you weren’t from the area, he offered to stay with you :(

and also offered to pay for any medical expenses

oh he just felt so bad 😞

but it’s okay! the doctor said it was a minor fracture that should heal up in no time !

and like…changbin made you laugh the entire time and he’s so kind and nice and pretty and buff…

perhaps you could forgive him for shattering your big toe! but just this once !

hyunjin

you just wanted a nice, peaceful day at the park

the weather was perfect for a picnic and a book and you just had to take the opportunity

a lot of other people had the same idea to visit the local park

hyunjin included! he wanted kkami to get some fresh air and to stretch his legs from being holed up in his art studio all day

everything was going perfectly fine

and then kkami managed to get out of his leash

chaos ensued; everyone could hear his dramatic ass screaming and chasing his little dog 😭

surprise! kkami ended up at your picnic bc he wanted to eat your snacks

“hello, sweet boy!”

he was so friendly, everything was going so well! you even offered him a strawberry

and then he peed on your book

and bit your finger 🧍🏻‍♀️

hyunjin gets there 30 seconds too late and now he has to apologize for kkami and his chihuahua-ness

“oh my fucking god, i’m so sorry, i don’t know why he would do that! are you okay!?”

yes you are…there’s a beautiful man right in front of you holding your hand and checking on you ‼️

there’s still dog pee on your book tho

“there’s a bookstore near by, can i buy you another copy?”

so cute <3 thank u kkami

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mvnsvn6 · 8 months

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Have a mini fic about Steve annotating books and Eddie finding it really hot🖤

So obviously, Eddie's a bookworm. Before he had any friends, he spent the better parts of his childhood at Hawkins Library after school and Hawkins Middle's library during any recesses and lunches. He constantly read books, this was before Wayne got him a guitar and before he got into dnd, and being a bookworm tremendously helped him fuel both of those hobbies later on. But before then? The library was like a second home to him.

And so, recently founding out that Steve reads, like a lot, is something of a revalation. It's not that Eddie thinks the guy is stupid, but he figured the guy spent time doing other productive hobbies at home. But the guy reads, and as previously mentioned, Eddie considers himself a literature connoisseur of sorts. Writing book reports and essays were one of the few things he actually excelled at in high school.

So anyway, he found out that Steve is a book nerd by finding one of Steve's books open on his bed. Not really the strangest thing that Eddie's come across in Steve's room if he's being honest, and not the biggest indicator of nerdiness, until he focuses his attention and acknowledges the bright colors sprawled across the pages.

A burst of rainbow colors underlining what Eddie guesses are his favorite parts of the story or important stuff he wanted to remember. And obviously, Eddie has to ask him about it. and Steve explains to him that he has a whole color key and it's made up of romantic lines that make him feel warm, sad stuff that makes him tear up, stuff that is word for word undoubtedly Steve Harrington sprawled on a page. Steve won't tell him which color is which, too embarrassed by it, but he lets Eddie read through them, and then he stares at Steve in unyeilding fondness.

The look reflected on Steve's is not the same, mostly anxiety and insecurity, which Eddie immediately wants to soothe. It's so so sweet he thinks but Eddie's mouth translates the words into, "That's so fucking hot." Which, shit man, it is but he hadn't meant to say it out loud.

"Shut up, dude, don't make fun of me right now."

And listen, books are everything to him, this is no joking matter. They inspire his own stories, whether through a dnd campaign or writing song lyrics. It's honestly probably the most attractive thing a person could do in Eddie's opinion, he didn't know how hot until right about now, but he'll die on this hill. Annotating your books is hot.

"Listen to me when I say this Steve, while that is the nerdiest thing I've ever heard and I'm, ya know, me. It's also about the most attractive thing that's come out of that pretty mouth of yours, like ever."

And Steve folds his arms across his fucking beautifully sculpted chest and narrows his eyes just slightly, raising a judgemental eyebrow at him.

"You're being serious."

Oh he's never been more serious about anything in his life.

"Uh...yeah? Yes. Oh my god."

Yeah, real eloquent Edward.

Whatever, his heart is pounding profuesely against his rib cage because holy shit Steve is a book nerd and Eddie wants to kiss him fucking yesterday. So he gets on all fours on Steve's bed to lean forward and basically attacks his mouth before he can even think about it.

And when he pulls back, Steve's pupils are blown wide and his breath has picked up pace, and Steve keeps bouncing between looking at Eddie's eyes and his lips.

"You just kissed me."

It comes out disbelieving.

"Yeah and with your permission I'd like to continue, like stat, immediately, now."

"You're insane."

And hands weave through curls and pull.

Eddie tumbles foward, ending fully sprawled on top of Steve, and, jesus christ, body pressed impossibly close to his.

And after they're romantic, read: nerdy horniness, little makeout session, he forces Steve to read the annotations himself, going through all the books that are important to Steve. He has to stop himself from moaning to really emphasize how hot he finds it, and to make Steve slightly embarrassed, but refrains. Just lets him continue.

Eddie has never been so in love in his life.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #ficlet #stranger things fic #my writing

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querenciasturniolo · 10 months

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This is such a random concept but can you write something to do with the triplets finding out you’re a fan of there’s (which is shocking cuz you’re a well known singer) and you guys finally meet up for a car video and Chris, who’s usually really talkative, gets really quiet and nervous and Matt and Nick catch on to why and they end up teasing him…

favorite ⮕ c.s.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: swearing, teasing, she/her pronouns

summary: the triplets invite you to to do a video with them after a viral video at your last concert on tour, and teasing ensues when chris is awfully quiet for once

a/n: this one is a little longer, but only because i am awful at transitions and find way too much detail important. this was SO fun to write, i hope i did it justice 💓

{i am NOT calling fangirls losers, at all. i am a fangirl and a loser, but that doesn’t mean everyone is. i wrote y/n saying she was a loser bc i thought it was funny, carry on}

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

part one || part two

“You have stated multiple times before that you’re a fan of many people, whether they’re artists or creators of some sort. Any you’d like to mention?”

“The Sturniolo triplets, easy. They’re content creators; they make these car videos and they’re absolutely hilarious. I found them on Tiktok about a year ago, and I’ve been watching them ever since.”

A single answer to a question had your fans going absolutely ballistic.

It was your fault, of course, but you didn’t think they would act like this. In every one of your posts, more comments than not were about the triplets. You found it more funny than anything, knowing that your fans were just excited that you enjoyed the same things they did.

At the closing show of your tour, you had just finished your last song, and you looked out at the crowd one last time to realize that this wasn’t going to go away. A single sign in the crowd had you laughing and shaking your head.

DO A VIDEO WITH THE TRIPLETS

You pointed at the sign as you walked back to leave the stage. “The ball is in their court, now.” You said, the crowd going ballistic as you finally stepped off of the stage.

After that, it seemed radio silent for a while, but you had no idea what was going on behind the scenes. It had been only a few weeks since that show, and you were just hanging out at your apartment, one of your best friends sitting across from you on the couch.

“Y/n, have you seen this?”

You looked up from your phone and glanced at her screen, a video of your last concert playing. The sign was shown before it was turned around and the camera was on you. You saw you grin and laugh at the sign and point, saying what you said before. The moment you finished, you heard the fan scream and other screams around her completely fucking with the speaker.

“I mean, I remember that happening, but I haven’t seen the video, why?” You asked, handing her phone back to her. She raised her eyebrows and kept her phone screen facing you.

“It’s viral.”

Your eyes immediately went to the likes, and you were shocked to see there were over four million. “Holy shit.” You mumbled, your phone vibrating in your hand. You looked down, your jaw dropping when you saw the DM before you. “Holy shit!”

nicolassturniolo: hey! would you want to be in a car video??

You stared at the screen, completely speechless as you looked between the DM and your friend. “What the fuck do I say?” You asked, finally opening the message. She laughed from across from you and you couldn’t help but stare at her, completely bewildered.

“Say yes? It’s a pretty simple answer.” She said. You nodded your head and answered Nick quickly, asking him when they wanted to meet up. “How are you fangirling right now?”

You looked up again and frowned. “Because I’m a loser, obviously.” You said, your friend laughing and shaking her head as she dropped back down on her side of the couch.

You and Nick messaged back and forth, you finding out the details of the video and where they wanted to meet up. You decided tonight would be best for both of your schedules, and you were chomping at the bit to get ready and get there. You’d never done anything casual like this, only professional interviews and somewhat press-related conversations. You had no idea what was going to happen in this video, except for the general idea of it being a Q&A between the four of you.

Driving to the meetup spot had your entire body on high alert, excited to meet the triplets, but also terrified to do so. You were a fangirl at heart, but you refused to show it. You pulled into the parking lot, looking around for the van.

The moment you saw it, you took a deep breath and pulled up next to it, frowning and looking around at the desolate parking lot. Before you could even fully get out of the car, Nick was opening the back door of the van and waving at you. You grinned and shut your door, locking your car out of habit and heading towards the van.

“Hey, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Nick said, stepping out of the van and giving you a hug.

You chuckled and pulled away, shrugging your shoulders. “You too! I’m not gonna lie, I was nervous as hell on the drive over.” You said, following Nick’s lead and climbing into the van after him, awkwardly climbing over him. You looked at Matt and Chris, your smile wide as you nodded in acknowledgement. “Hey.”

“Why were you nervous?” Matt asked, your cheeks heating up as you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m a big fan, and extremely awkward, if you couldn’t tell.” You said, the three of them laughing and adjusting themselves to face you.

“It’s totally fine, you should have seen Nick before you pulled up.” Chris said, Nick’s jaw dropping to the floor as you looked over at him with a similar expression. The conversation mellowed out shortly after that, your nerves dissipating as you got more comfortable.

“Okay, so here’s our idea.” Nick started, your eyes meeting his immediately. “You hide behind Chris’ seat while we introduce the video, and when we say we have a special guest, you pop up and introduce yourself.” He finished. You nodded your head, fighting your smile as you wedged yourself between Chris’ seat and the seat you were sitting in on the floor.

“Matt, go check the camera.” Nick said. You covered your mouth to avoid laughing at the ensuing argument.

“Nick, why do you never check the fucking camera, this is ridiculous.” Matt grumbled, climbing out of the car to check it. Nick looked down at you, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head. You snorted, and waited patiently for Matt to get back into the car.

“Alright. Today, we’re doing a Q&A, but we have a little surprise for everyone.” Chris said. He adjusted in his seat, you only knowing this because the movement pushed you into the other seat harshly. You couldn’t help but groan at the pressure of the seat against your side, smacking your hand over your mouth as Nick threw his head back and laughed.

“We have a special guest, if you couldn’t tell by Chris breaking her ribs. Come on out, reveal yourself.” Nick said. You shoved yourself out from behind the seat, your hand pressed against your side as the four of you laughed. “So, a video went viral of Y/n at one of her concerts challenging us to get her in a video.”

You scoffed and looked at Nick. “It wasn’t a challenge at all. Someone in the crowd had a sign that said I needed to be in a car video, and all I said was that the ball was in your court.” You defended playfully, Nick holding his hands up in mock defense. “I didn’t realize how insane that interview would go. I said I was a fan, and all of a sudden everyone was tagging me in your posts and telling me I needed to be in a video.” You said, shrugging your shoulders.

“Alright, introduce yourself to the video, and tell them if you have anything coming up, if you want.” You looked at Matt after he spoke, realization dawning on you as you nodded and finally looked at the camera.

“Oh, right. I’m Y/n. I just announced my new single Changes that comes out in a few days, go listen if you want.” You said, looking between the three of them to make sure that was alright. Chris chuckled and nodded, facing the camera and pulling his phone from his pocket.

“So, this Q&A is different for a few reasons. One; we have a special guest, which you already know. And two; we decided to ask her some questions, and she’s going to ask some questions that she has for us. We will be answering some fan questions as well, since we only came up with a handful of questions.” Chris said, Nick gesturing for him to speed up.

The video progressed with the four of you rapid fire asking questions about your careers and other random things, occasionally debating when someone said something the others thought was outrageous.

“How long have you been a fan of ours?” Chris asked. You met his eyes and felt your face heat up before you looked away quickly and shrugged.

“I saw a clip of one of your videos on Tiktok about a year ago, and looked that specific video up. It was the one where Nick’s yelling about a staff, I believe.” You said, Nick sighing and shaking his head.

Chris chuckled and nodded his head. “Nick yelling seems to be a common theme in people looking us up, so that makes sense.”

“When did you become a fan of mine?” You asked, Nick nearly dropping his drink as he put it into the cupholder. You laughed and braced yourself as Nick held up his hands.

“I found your first album by accident a few months after it came out, and I blasted it on repeat for weeks after that. I may have forced Matt and Chris to listen to it, but they fucked with it heavy, no matter what they say.” Matt rolled his eyes with a smile and grabbed his phone, scrolling through the questions.

“It’s not my type of music, but it definitely isn’t bad. The lyrics were definitely my favorite part, you’ve got a way with words.” Chris said, Matt nodding and meeting your eyes as well.

You blushed and smiled awkwardly. “Thank you, that means a lot. I always try to tell a story with my songs, so I’m glad that my lyrics show that.” Jesus, you couldn’t take a compliment to save your life.

A few more questions were asked and answered before Matt spoke up.

“This is a fan question; who’s your celebrity crush?” Matt read, dropping his phone into his lap and looking back at you. You looked up and thought for a moment before shrugging.

“I guess the easy answer is Ryan Gosling, or something, but I’m not exactly sure—oh! I take that back, Harry Styles for sure. I’d love to do a song with him, it’s been one of my dreams since I started making music.” You rambled, the three of them humming and nodding their heads. “What about you guys?”

Matt spoke first, his answer completely outrageous and out there. Nick refused to answer, and that’s when all three of you realized that Chris was silent. You looked at him, his eyes focused on the center console.

“Chris?” You asked. He looked up then, which is when you noticed his pink cheeks.

He shook his head. “I don’t want to answer this question, let's move on.” He said, turning to face forward again. You frowned and looked between Matt and Nick, who were staring at Chris confused.

“Why are you acting so weird—oh.” Nick said, the confusion on his face morphing into a sly smirk. “I see.” He said, looking at Matt. It took Matt a little longer to get there, but soon he was grinning and shoving Chris’ arm.

“Come on, Chris. Just say it.” He teased, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked between all of them.

“I have no idea what the fuck is happening, but alright.” You said, turning your attention to Chris. He shook his head and looked over at Matt.

“I’m not saying it, just move on.” He said, an amused smile on his lips.

“Why? Is it because she’s in the car?” Nick asked. Your face heated up immediately, your eyes meeting Chris’ shocked gaze. Matt smacked his hand over his mouth to cover up the laugh that nearly knocked him forward.

“Nick, cut that out.”

Nick’s laughter rang through the van as he fell backwards in his seat and shook his head, Chris’ embarrassed chuckle pushing past his lips as he looked at you one more time.

“You could have denied it!” Matt finally said, all four of you completely losing it and doubling over. You’d never laughed so hard in your life, and you were glad you agreed to do this.

Chris sat up and wiped at his eyes, the remnants of his laughter still showing on his face as he shook his head. “I could have denied it, but I’m not a liar.” He said, avoiding your eyes completely as he took a sip of his Pepsi. “So yeah, my celebrity crush is Y/n, sue me.”

Your mouth went dry, not expecting him to say it out loud so bluntly.

“Okay! Next question!” Nick said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. You shook your head and smiled as you waited for his question. He dropped his phone in his lap, a mischievous smile on his face as he gestured to you. “Who’s your favorite triplet?”

You groaned and threw your head back, looking forward again to see all three pairs of eyes glued to you intently. You blinked and looked between them, shaking your head when seeing their goofy smiles.

“I plead the fifth, absolutely not.” You said, all of them laughing and shaking their heads.

“Oh, come on! Just say it!” Matt said, resting his head on his hand and widening his eyes at you.

“No feelings will be hurt, just tell us.” Nick said, your eyes meeting his as you shook your head.

“It’s me, guys. It’s official.” Chris said, your head whipping in his direction. Your face felt like it was on fire as the silence continued and he held your gaze. Nick was the first to lose it, grabbing your arm as he dropped forward and laughed uncontrollably.

“What is with you two?! Just deny it or something!” He said, Matt and Chris joining in and covering their faces with their hands. You sighed and shook your head.

“I’m not a liar, either. Let’s move on.” You said, picking up your phone and going through your notes app.

“Favorite song, not just by me, any song in general.” You said, the conversation changing immediately. When everyone was done filming, you said your goodbyes and stepped out of the car. You weren’t expecting them all to jump out of the car as well.

“Do you mind taking a picture with us for our photo dump? It’s totally cool if not.” Nick asked.

“Oh! For sure, could I get a picture for my Instagram too?” They nodded, and you took a few pictures, some were serious and others were ridiculous. You each exchanged numbers, sending over the pictures that were taken on each of your phones. When the pictures were done and the four of you were just laughing at all of the photos, you looked at each of them. “I had a lot of fun! Thank you for having me.” You said, pulling Nick into a hug.

“Oh, of course! You should come hang out with us sometime, whenever you’re free.” He said as he pulled away. You nodded and accepted the hug from Matt, biting the inside of your cheek as your eyes met Chris’ after you pulled away.

He hesitated but shrugged his shoulders and held out his arms. You chuckled and walked towards him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. Your heart was racing as you pulled away and smiled at him, hoping he didn’t notice the burning in your cheeks.

“Again, it was so nice to meet you. Text me if you ever want to make plans, okay?” You said, the three of them nodding and waving as you got into your car.

The drive back to your apartment was long, your exhaustion finally hitting you as you checked the dash and saw it was three in the morning. God, you were going to be exhausted at your meetings tomorrow. You finally pulled into the parking garage and got out of your car, locking the door as your phone vibrated in your pocket. It wasn’t until you laid in your bed and plugged in your phone that you checked the notification, your heart pounding as you read the text, a shocked laugh leaving your lips.

#nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you

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tanniefm · 11 months

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all mine | jjk (m)

summary - after a heated argument in the car, jungkook makes sure to set you straight in the only way he knows how.

pairing - jungkook x (f) reader

genre - smut/minor angst, established relationship

word count - 1.5k

song inspo - all mine by brent faiyaz (but also seven cause FUCKKKKKKK)

warnings - jealousy and misunderstandings, lowkey sexual harassment (not from jk ofc), explicit language (especially calling kook out his name 🫣), angry car sex, daddy kink, unprotected sex (yes yes bad we know), creampie, reader says sorry while she gets fucked and jk like doesn’t care 😭, they love each other a lot still

a/n - heard the explicit ver of seven and my jaw dropped and pussy started throbbing and this is the result of that :)

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°

Jungkook is having the worst possible time right now. When he came home from the studio this evening, he fully expected to see you laid out on the couch watching some random show in those tiny little pajamas he likes. He’d forget all his stress and the minor headache he’s had for the past hour and squeeze, and kiss, and touch his pretty girl to his heart’s content. He did not account for the fact that you’d be slipping into a form-fitting dress and fussing over how long it would take to do your hair and makeup.

“Um…where are you going?” he asks with a raised brow. “To the company dinner I told you about, remember? I told you about it before you left.” Jungkook does not in fact remember. How could he when his dick was stuffed down your throat and his eyes were rolled to the back of his head? But that was earlier, and this is now.

“Oh. Should I like, change or..” he trails off. In all honesty, he really didn’t want to go, he knows if he said as much you’d be completely fine with him staying home, the problem is he doesn’t want you to go either. You look over at him and see his cute little pout. You had a feeling he'd act this way, he had a tendency to be needy for your presence. You always found it endearing though, he was like a clingy puppy at times.

“Yes baby, wear something nice please, it's business casual but you know I can't pass up an opportunity to get dolled up,” you wink. He sighs wistfully and goes into your shared closet to find an acceptable dress shirt. Since your dress is gray he felt it was only right to wear a gray shirt with a black blazer overtop and some freshly pressed black slacks. You always call him corny when he tries to coordinate his outfits with yours but he knows you secretly love it. All he can do is hope the dinner is short so he can end the night with both of you fucked out in bed.

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°

He really tried to have a good time, honestly. You seemed to be making it very hard for him, however (both literally and figuratively). He couldn’t seem to stop staring at how good you looked in your dress, the way his hands itched to caress your curves drove him insane. And not to mention how everytime you’d politely laugh at whatever your coworker was saying, your boobs would jiggle like they were purposely trying to taunt him. If Jungkook had his way, he would’ve taken you in the restaurant bathroom by now, but he promised before you two left to be good. But you just make it so, so hard for him.

“_____? Oh my god, how are you? I haven’t seen you in ages!” You turn to see the source of the familiar voice only to find an old friend from high school. “Chris? Holy shit I didn’t know you worked here! I’m good, it feels like we haven’t talked in forever,” you say cheerily. Jungkook slightly furrows his brow, Chris? You never mentioned a Chris before. As he watched the two of you catch up, he couldn’t help but notice the dark look in Chris’ eye. The way he seemed to look down at your breasts and ass more than he did your eyes. He knew exactly what that look meant, and he had no intention of watching him continue on with it. What especially irritated him was how naive you seemed to be to it. How could you not see that Chris wasn’t listening to a word you said? But the last straw was seeing him lean in for a hug and watching his hands slowly but surely make their way to your lower back, dangerously close to your ass.

“Ok that’s enough,” Jungkook said gruffly. He tugged you out of his arms and swiftly pulled you along out of the restaurant. “Jungkook what the fuck?” You were honestly surprised he was handling you like this, who the fuck does he think he is to be gripping on your arm like you’re some kind of bad child?

“Get in the car,” he says sternly. He must’ve lost his damn mind. “Excuse me?” Where was this coming from? Just a second ago he seemed fine, why is he acting so pissy all of a sudden? “What the fuck is your problem Jungkook? What are you so mad about?” you ask desperately. He says nothing as he opens the passenger’s door and waits for you to get in. You scoff and sit down, rolling your eyes while doing so. He always hated when you rolled your eyes at him, and frankly, it was pissing him off even more. But it’s ok. He knows how to get that little bratty attitude you had to go away.

He gets into his seat and takes a deep breath. “So. You and Chris seem close huh,” he says calmly. You raise a brow and look at him with utter confusion. “Uh no, not really. I haven’t talked to him since I graduated,” you reply. He gives a huff of laughter and shakes his head. “Then why exactly was he giving you ‘fuck me’ eyes baby?” Realistically he knows he’s being overdramatic. Chris was obviously being a creep and you just so happened to be the person he set his eyes on. But Jungkook’s been annoyed the whole night, and it seemed like this was the catalyst for his patience.

“How should I know? It’s not like I was purposely trying to seduce him!” you say exasperatedly. This is ridiculous! Does he think you wanted to make him jealous or something? For what? He was making zero sense right now, and all it was doing was making you angry.

You two went back and forth for what couldn’t be more than 10 minutes before saying something you knew you should’ve never said. “Fuck Jungkook, why are you being such a little bitch right now,” you exclaim, annoyed. His eyes widen slightly before his entire face hardens. You’ve never seen him look so serious. “Come here.” He leans his seat back slightly and looks at you expectantly. “Baby I-“ “I wasn’t asking,” he interrupts. You’re so fucked.

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“Fuu-uu-uuuck m’ sorry! M’ so sorry!” you cry out into the steadily rocking car. Jungkook grips your hips tight as he pulls you up and down on his fat dick. “Sorry? Oh, but I thought I was a bitch? What happened baby?” he grunts. This is exactly what he needed. He's been pent up ever since he got home and he needed to pound into this tight cunt to relieve all this pent-up stress he’s been feeling.

“N-no! Didn’t mean it I promise daddy, promise!” Your eyes start to roll to the back of your head. You’re so fucking close. He’s hitting your g-spot with precision, angling his hips in just the right way to take you over the edge. His big, strong hands move down to your behind and grab each globe. He holds you still and pistons into you with an ever-growing speed.

“Don’t give this pussy to anyone else, do you hear me? he pants as he throws his head back in ecstasy. “Whose pussy is this?” he questions. “It’s yours, daddy! Yours yours yours, no one else’s!” you moan out. His moans start raising in pitch as he works his throbbing length in and out of you. Your wetness staining his dress pants and his seat. “Uhhhh fuckkk I’m almost there princess I’m right there hold on baby,” he babbles.

You bring your hands to the back of his neck to lift his head to yours, making sure those pretty doe eyes of his look directly into yours. “C'mon, daddy. Cum in your pussy,” you say seductively. His eyes shut tightly as he lets out a loud whine. His hips still and press into you as deep as your walls will allow him as he paints them white. Feeling his warmth overflow from inside of you triggers your orgasm right away, you tuck your head into his neck as you sob and shake.

Jungkook wraps his arms around you and kisses your head repeatedly as you both breathe heavily and try to bring yourselves down from the intense moment. He squeezes you into his arms as if you’ll disappear if he doesn’t have a strong hold on you. His kisses go down to your face where he peppers them all over your cheeks and lips, whispering how much he loves you and how good you were for him.

“I love you so much ____ please don’t ever leave me,” he whimpers into your mouth. You pull away and look at him incredulously. “Baby…why would I leave you?” you ask softly. “I just…I don't know. I guess I got a little insecure back at the restaurant. I know it's stupid but, for a second it really seemed like I was losing you.” he explains sadly. You frown and give him a long, heartfelt kiss. “Koo baby, I don't even think about anyone else when I have you. You're all I need.” He blushes and grants you his precious bunny smile.

“My big jealous baby, you know I love you.” ♡

#bts fic #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fic #bts fanfic #jungkook boyfriend #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook x reader smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook

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clbrq · 7 months

Text

SUCKER FOR PAIN - C. BROCK

warnings; IMPLIED SMUT, flirting, drinking alcohol, angry colby, swearing/cursing, toxic relationship. NOT PROOF READ.

-/-

Things with Colby were complicated. You were on, and then you were off. One minute you were rolling around in his sheets, sweating and moaning, and the next you were fighting and storming out of each other’s apartment’s. All of that for someone you weren’t even dating.

You knew the last fight you had dug deep. You both said unnecessary things you didn’t mean. But, his words still stung when you thought of them.

“We both know you’re just a petty fuck for me.”

You were hurt, but you were angry. And you were childish, knowing you wouldn’t let this go until he felt the hurt you did. You wanted cold-hearted revenge on that man.

And just to your luck, Halloween rolled around the corner quicker than you’d expected, a mutual friend of you and Colby was hosting a party at his house, downtown. As if the universe just knew what you were planning, you had possibly the best, most sluttiest, outfit put together.

A Police officer—the signature hat, baton, badge, but best of all; the handcuffs.

If not used on you by Colby, you knew another man would do.

—

Music boomed from outside the house, lights swirling outside, painting you in different colours as you pushed open the door to be greeted with a large crowd of drunk, sweaty, dressed up people dancing to a recognisable Rihanna song.

Pushing through the crowd, pulling down your dress in order to not flash everyone behind you, you made it in one piece to the kitchen. Finding a familiar face with a drink in hand, you knew you exactly who would be with them.

“Holy fucking shit, you look so hot!”

“All thanks to you, Kat,” You smirked, embracing the tipsy girl, “I wouldn’t have these bad boys if it wasn’t for you.” Gesturing to the silver handcuffs attached to your wrist.

The girl with the colourful hair, wearing a Tiffany from Chucky outfit, laughed as she spoke, “I wonder who’s gonna get cuffed tonight?”

You grinned evilly, “I wonder. Anyway, get me a drink, I’m too sober.”

Kat laughed, handing you a bottle of Vodka and sliding some coke along with it. Your favourite. Pouring way to much Vodka into the glass while mixing the drink, Kat laughed as you grimaced at the taste, yet chugging the whole thing.

“Hey, come on, Sam and the others are in the living room.” She smiled, grabbing your hand.

With your spare hand, you grabbed the Vodka bottle along with you, taking sips as Kat led you through a group of dancing people. The music boomed loudly in your ears, feeling the beat pulsate through your body as you moved.

You made it to the living room, the music got quieter but still loud enough to sing without being heard by others. Lots of familiar faces sat on the sofa, sipping drinks and talking amongst themselves.

They all looked up as Kat giggled at a joke you made, wondering who she was laughing at. All of them smiled and greeted you welcoming you, complimenting your outfit and laughing with you. One, however, was not so happy.

Colby Brock’s face fell as he saw you step into his view. After you fight, he didn’t think you’d show up. Especially looking so good—as if you didn’t even care.

Looking in his direction, a smile grew wider on your face just looking at him. Specifically at what he was wearing.

“What a coincidence.” You smirked, your eyes dancing over the orange jumpsuit laid loosely on his body, slightly unzipped to show his glorious torso.

He didn’t reply, only rolling his eyes and taking a sip from his drink. He didn’t feel like playing games with you, not tonight.

You knew that from the way he reacted.

Knowing it will amplify his anger, you walk swiftly over to your good friend Brennen, and taking a comfortable seat next to him. His Woody from Toy Story outfit showing off his abs and body so wonderfully.

“Hey, doll.” Brennen spoke, his words slightly slurred, “haven’t seen you in ages. Missed ya.”

“Likewise,” You grinned, snuggling up to him, as his arm fell sloppily around you, pulling you closer, “Love the outfit, shame I didn’t come as a Jesse to match.”

“So you could ride me like a cowgirl?”

Laughter erupted loudly from your throat, making sure everybody knew you were laughing with Brennen. Everybody only being Colby. And you knew it was working—you could feel his cold, piercing, blue eyes burning holes in the side of your head.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You whispered, biting your lip, eyes trickling over Brennen’s face.

You certainly felt the alcohol in your system now, as you subconsciously sipped from the Vodka bottle as Brennen spoke.

Colby couldn’t take it any longer.

Marching over to the two of you, he grabbed your forearm and dragged you to your feet.

“Hey!” You cried, anger flooding your system as the warmth from Brennen’s body began to fade away.

“Enough.” Colby spat, leading you out the door.

You didn’t protest. Your plan had worked, you got your revenge. Colby lead you upstairs, not saying a word as he did so. He dragged you into a spare room, the silence suddenly feeling louder than music downstairs. Colby slammed the door as you sat on the empty bed.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He spat, standing angrily in front of you, pink hues in his cheeks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spoke calmly, smirking playfully up at him as he towered over you.

He was seething. You’d never seen him like this before. Of course you’d seen him get heated in arguments, but he was absolutely full of rage right now.

“Don’t fucking play with me.” He sneered, “Do you get off on acting like a slut, huh? Around my friends and in front of me?”

The smirk deepened on your face, “Oh, I’m sorry, why is this so enraging for you, Colby?”

“Because you’re mine, you understand—no one else can have you.”

Ah, there it was.

“Hmm, that’s funny, because last week I was just a petty fuck for you, wasn’t I?” You fired, standing up to face him, making him step back slightly, “Or did you forget?”

Colby went silent—just staring at you.

“That’s what I thought.”

You went to walk out the door, to return to the party, but a hand grasped your wrist and pulled you flush against their body. Colby grabbed hold of your neck as he spoke,

“Yeah, you’re my petty fuck. No one else’s. You got that?”

“No, I don’t,” You spat, pushing him away, and attempting to walk away again.

Suddenly, you were shoved aggressively against the wall, eliciting a gasp out of you. Colby held both your wrist tightly against the wall as he stated deeply into your eyes, never once breaking his stars.

“You will when I’m fucking done with you.” He drawled out, “You’re not Brennen’s, fuck, you’re not anyone’s, but mine. You fucking hear me, slut, you’re mine.”

You wanted to fight back, tell him to fuck off and walk out, but you couldn’t help but squeeze your legs together as his words echoed deeply throughout your mind causing your arousal to spark.

“Yes, Colby.”

“Good.” He spoke, licking his lips, “do that again, and you’re dead.”

You chuckled as he stared down at you sternly, his words meaningful, “Yes, sir.”

“Mm, is that how you wanna play?” He grinned, his evils darkening.

Nodding as he releases his grip, sliding his hands down to your waist, you connect your lips with his as you move both of you backwards. Falling comfortably on the bed, lips moving swiftly together, you straddle his waist, rocking your hips back and forth on his crotch, feeling him get harder with each movement.

“I fucking hate you.” You mumble against his lips, moving them down to his neck, sucking on the exposed skin.

“Love you too.” He replies, gripping your waist tighter.

—

i know this is the shittiest fic ever, it’s midnight and my brain is literally offline rn.

also trying to sound american when you’re british is the hardest thing ever. is it sofa or couch for americans. i don’t even know tbh, i keep wanting to right, “is it?” which is SOOO UNBELIEVABLY british it hurts.

however i’ve actually been in bed for 2 days now and haven’t left and my brain is fully disassociated from society. i literally haven’t seen or spoke to anyone in days and i’ve seen how many dead plants i’ve been watering icl. dead asf. my brain is just sam and colby.

ALSO i haven’t written properly in probably years so please forgive me. also i’m in my angsty era as seasonal depression is taking over :)

goodnight yall i’m tired

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clairegregoryau · 7 months

Text

Through the Looking Glass

From fairytale in Season 1 to stark reality in Season 2 of Our Flag Means Death- meta ported across from this Twitter thread by popular demand!

This thread contains spoilers for the entirety of OFMD Season 2

First OFMD S1 rewatch since S2, and holy shit, if you haven't done that yet... do that. A thing that it made instantly clear: they told us *all along* where this was going, but there was a reason we didn't see it. Because we were living in Stede's world then. Now it's Ed's.

I know that a lot of us have felt that the tone shift at the end of S2 was... jarring, compared to what's come before. This felt like a show that wouldn't go there. One where being run through was a temporary hiccup. We've travelled all the way from this to this.

But we haven't jumped there without a journey in between. And from the minute we started hearing about Blackbeard, the show never tried to hide what Ed's world and his specific life was like. Not once. In fact they told us over and over and over.

But Season 1 told us a lot of those things through song and story and fuckery. It blended reality with fiction.

Stede met the Blackbeard he knew through books and tall tales, and the real man was even more wonderful than he'd imagined.

We, along with Stede, were comfortable thinking that all those other tales were exaggerations and misrepresentations, and a lot of them very likely were.

The Ed Stede got to know was a person who was capable of whimsy and silliness and loved soft things and doing something weird. Yep, he was also capable of violence and rage, but when he was with Stede, he didn't feel it so much.

This was a vacation from that life.

To Stede he was absolutely lovely... oh, and also a bloodthirsty killer. And Stede loved (and loves) everything about him, and both of those things can be true. This is a perfect example of a spot where (in watching Season 1 without the benefit of hindsight) I assumed that everyone else in that pub was wrong, and Stede was simply trying to protect Ed's fearsome reputation by agreeing on the bloodthirsty bits. And I think from Stede's perspective that was largely true. I think that's how they wanted us to see Ed, through his eyes. Now, after watching both seasons, I think it wasn't the whole picture.

They told us, we heard it, we saw glimpses of it. But we (and Ed) were in Stede's run-away-to-sea fairytale the whole time. It wasn't until Stede left that we saw the reality- the Ed we knew had been, to a degree, a fictional character all along. I always saw this scene as Ed putting a bit of distance between himself and reality; it always felt like the Blackbeard of Stede's storybooks was the fictional one. But now it feels like the softer Ed that Stede knew was much the same- neither of them the whole story of who Ed was and is.

The one person who refused to live in Stede's fairytale was Izzy. I've seen people say it before, but he always gave off that vibe of the only human in the Muppets movie, or the guy who was in Black Sails while everyone else was in Pirates of the Caribbean. He saw the real risks clearly.

And in that light, the end of S1 has shifted an inch to the left for me, and I'm seeing it at a slightly different angle.

Izzy ripped away the healing Ed was doing, but in some respects he did it by tearing away the fairytale we'd all been living in, shoving Ed back into the Blackbeard story.

And that's where we pick up again in Season 2.

The fairytale reference came back in S2 in two notable places, those being Jim carrying that legacy forward in the darkest times, and in Izzy invoking the wooden boy against Ricky's efforts. Stede's made himself into a real boy. Ricky, nope.

Now that I've watched both seasons together, the tone shift doesn't feel so jarring at all, actually.

It feels like sliding through the looking glass, out of Stede's world, and into Ed's- a world that existed all along; we were just seeing it, la vie en rose, through Stede's eyes.

At the beginning of S2, Stede's gone, and we're seeing it unfiltered through Ed's reality.

But Stede wasn't lying when he said he loved everything about Ed. He made a promise to come back and find him- he went down into Ed's darkest place and reminded him that no matter how bad things got, there WAS someone waiting for him, ready to love him.

The contrast between S1's fantasy and S2's reality (excluding mermaids and actual bird guys and cursed coats) is stark, but it really is that.

We have the same settings, the same people, and very different ideas and outcomes at different times.

But it was always there.

Things do come back to a state of (precarious) balance once they're all together. Apologies are made, whether they're spoken out loud or through actions. Things go right, things go wrong. Healing happens. Izzy continues to have the steadiest, most real through-line in the story as he tracks toward redemption, finds acceptance, and to an extent finds himself.

Once again, I hate that they went here with the ending and I wish they hadn't. But it got a fraction easier for me looking at it not as a continuation of Stede's fairytale, but of the grounded-in-pirate-reality arc Izzy was always on, even while we lived in Stede's world.

Where does that leave us? We're not going back to the fairytale, but we're not going to be living in Black Sails for S3, either. We've hit a fusion point where S1 ended with each of them going to separate, miserable homes, but S2 ended with them in the same place, ready and willing to make a go of it.

Season 3 is going to give us their world, together.

I LOVED the moments in this season where the deep emotions were in balance with the silliness I've always adored about this show. Eps4-6 were wonderful like that. Clearly we're not done with drama, either, but like Ed and Stede, I think we'll find a middle ground.

Anyway in conclusion, a rewatch of S1 after S2 somehow made me love the first season even more, which felt impossible? It's now gained /even more/ layers of depth than it had before. No matter how you feel about S2 I think it's worth that rewatch.

Adding one more bit of clarity for myself: I think we got a bit (intentionally) seduced in S1 by the idea that the Ed of the storybooks, the Vampire Viking Clown with the nine guns, was a version of him that others saw, when Stede saw the REAL person who 'worked' for Blackbeard.

In hindsight I think it's clear the Ed Stede go to know was also not the complete version of himself- the reality is, there's a whole spectrum between the two, and they've landed in the middle of it now. Ed intentionally leaned into the unlovable Kraken image to protect himself.

It very much didn't work, just like being just... Edward hadn't worked to protect himself, either. This season has been very much about pulling those two extremes together and finding all the parts that make up Ed overall (another thread on that here on Twitter, which I'll also shift across to Tumblr soon!)

And I think one of my favourite things in S2 has been seeing the way Stede SEES that- he knows what Ed's done, everyone's told him, but he still loves Ed. sees his trauma and how it affects him, and believes he's a good man regardless. He IS lovable; he's not forever broken.

And together, they can heal.

#ofmd #our flag means death #gay pirates #ofmd meta #unreliable narrators #fantasy vs reality #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 spoilers

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desert-fern · 1 year

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A Gun Amongst Daggers - Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Fem!Navy Seal Reader

Part 1 - The Seal in the Bar

Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?

*the GIF belongs to @unicornships , but I found it on Pinterest for some reason*

A/N: So here we are! I am absolutely blown away by the response that my teaser generated, holy shit! And because you all seem to love Bear as much as I do, and because you crazy people have brought me to over 100 followers in 2 days, I figured that I would release Part 1 sooner than I planned!

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ ONLY. MINORS & BLOGS WITH NO AGE/EMPTY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death (kill count and maybe a few other things), Jake being a flirt (which is it’s own warning)

Word Count: 2.5k

Read on Wattpad or AO3

Teaser >> Part 2

===

It was a miserable day when Jake walked into the Hard Deck. Training had been canceled due to shit weather and no matter how much of a workout he had had earlier, he was still as nervous as a scared cat in a room full of rocking chairs. The weather wasn’t helping either. It had been raining nearly all day, letting up for maybe 20 minutes at a time before it came pouring down again. Climate change was a serious concept, but right now it was fucking with his plans and his job and Jake very much wanted it to stop. Taking a quick glance around, he saw that there were a few patrons in the bar, mostly older men just sitting and drinking in near silence, the jukebox playing some classic rock song just loud enough to be heard. He had promised to meet Coyote here around 5 and seeing as he was early, Jake went ahead to order a drink. “Hey Penny.”

“Hangman,” Penny replied with a smile. “Your usual?”

“Nah, not drinking tonight. Too antsy. Just a water and Javy’s usual, thanks.” The blond glanced around the room as Penny went to grab his drinks and his eyes fell on a woman sitting quietly in the corner of the room, silently watching each and every person in the bar with an almost clinical gaze. His curiosity got the better of him and Jake grabbed his order before making his way over to the corner table. “That seat taken?” He asked with his usual sly grin on his face.

The woman glanced up at him, eyes flicking over him quickly before quirking a brow. “And what if it was?” she replied coolly, a narrow gaze pinning him to the spot. She took a sip of the drink in front of her, eyes never leaving his face.

“Well I’d like to think that I’d be better company than your imaginary friend here,” Jake said, trying to regain his footing. The woman was intimidating; sharp eyes that seemed to never miss a thing and a face that he recognized as one he made when the weariness hit on occasion.

“Is that painful for you, Flyboy? The thinking?”

Jake was taken aback by her snark. Normally he’d respond, fire an insult of two back, but he kept his mouth shut for once, watching for even just a flicker of emotion on the woman’s face. But there wasn’t any. She just looked bored. So Jake did something that he would almost never do, he walked away, set his drinks down on a table near the door and waved Javy down when his friend walked in.

A few drinks later and the bar had begun to fill with people. Other Daggers had popped up, joining Jake and Coyote and Jake was relieved to fall back into his cocky pilot facade he used in public. It was only when he went back up to the bar some hours later to grab another round for the group that he saw her again. “Grab another round, Penny?”

“Give me just a minute, Hangman.” Penny gave him a nod and a smile before adding ice to a cup for someone else and handing it off.

“Hangman huh?” A voice near him spoke up. A quick turn and there stood the woman from earlier. This time however, she was standing up, and he admired the tone and definition of her arm under the tight black shirt she wore. “Must be military then.”

“What gave it away?” He asked, glancing over at his friends before looking back at her.

A sharp grin. “Maybe the fact that you hang out with guys named ‘Coyote’ and ‘Payback’. That, and you just have the look about you,” she finished, taking a swig of her drink.

“You got it right, sweetheart,” Jake flirted, leaning his forearms on the bar and turning to look at her. “One of the best in the room.”

Bear knew that there was a gleam in her eye. God, she loved shooting cocky men down and watching them run back to their friends, tails tucked between their legs. But something about this Hangman made her curious and she didn’t yet know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. “Is that so? So what makes a fly-boy like you better than most people in the room?” she asked, giving him a teasing look.

A grin crossed Jake’s face and he was so sure that he was in. “Attended Top Gun twice, two confirmed air-to-air kills, plus my good looks and endless amounts of good ole-fashioned Southern charm, sweetheart.”

“Wow. Two whole kills all by yourself? That’s pretty impressive,” Bear nodded, schooling her face so as to not burst out laughing. “Little ole me only has about 60 confirmed kills, but I’m sure it’s much more difficult in a plane.”

Jake, who had been grabbing the beer bottles from Penny, froze. “I’m sorry, 60?”

“Yup, all by myself too.” The mocking slipped free and the smirk on her face was wide and dangerous.

“Who are you?” He asked, concern flooding over his face. Jake knew that the look on his face was one of pure shock, and holy shit was he both terrified and turned on at the thought of this woman being far more dangerous than he was.

Bear grinned, finishing her drink and pulling her wallet out to pay. “Take a guess,” she replied.

“Well I was going to say one hell of a pilot, but I would have heard of you if you were a Navy pilot.”

“Maybe I’m Air Force,” she teased as she watched the conflicting emotions cross Hangman’s face.

“Nuh uh. No way.” Jake shook his head immediately in disgust. “There’s no way you’re Chair Force, not a chance.”

“Like you Navy boys don’t also sit in chairs,” came the retort. “But you are right, I’m not, as you put it, Chair Force.”

“So who are you?” He asked, ignoring the barb thrown his way and pausing to look at her. “You aren’t a pilot, that’s for damn sure, so who and what are you?”

“Bagman! What the hell is taking so long?” A shout came from over by the pool tables.

Rolling his eyes, Jake turned and yelled back “Jus’ wait a damn minute!” Looking back at the woman beside him, Jake nodded for her to tell him.

“Seals,” she replied. “Navy Seal Team Three.”

His green eyes widened in surprise. “I didn’t know that there were women in the Seals.”

“Not many. Less than 3% to be exact.” There was pride in her voice and Bear knew that. She had worked incredibly hard to be taken seriously during training and even now as the Commander of Seal Team Three, working in the Middle East and Southwest Asia. Her skills were necessary for the survival of her team and herself. Plus putting damn near three years into the US Navy Sniper School made it very clear just how dangerous she was and could be.

“Okay…umm…wow. I jus’…wow.” Jake was in awe, right here in front of him was a woman who was both badass and hot as hell, and the best part? She didn’t back down and made him work for every step. “That’s seriously badass. Why haven’t I heard about you or any of the others?”

“Cause we’re usually kept secret. If enemy states know that there are women on the teams, then we have targets on our backs. But I can tell you, because no one will believe you,” Bear smirked before continuing, “And yeah, I know it’s pretty badass. I worked hard for it. Just like you did for your two kills.” And with a wink, she walked off, disappearing into the crowd near the bar, leaving Jake speechless.

He made his way back to the pool tables, beers in hand and a shocked look on his face. Once he set the bottles down, Jake looked up and began to glance around for any sign of the Seal he had been speaking to. “Who you lookin’ for?” Coyote asked, stepping up next to him.

“A Navy Seal.”

Coyote did a double take. Swallowing his drink, he asked “Did you just say a Navy Seal? Where the hell did you find one of those?”

“Up at the bar not even five minutes ago.”

“The fuck you doin’ chattin’ up a Navy Seal?” Coyote was looking at him like he was crazy. “Don’t they like have three dozen ways to murder you with a rusty spoon?”

“Probably. But she was hot. And seemed to be interested, so who knows if I’ll be a rusty spoon victim,” Jake replied. Not so deep down he was hoping that he’d get the chance to see her again, but stumbled over the sudden realization that he didn’t know her name. Well, that would be a problem for the next time. Turning back to the group, Jake found them watching him with curious looks. “What?”

“Next time that Seal comes back,” Phoenix told him, “Make sure she says hi. I want to know whose ass to protect when you wind up dead in a back alley.”

“Et tu, Nix?” Jake gaped at her, mimicking a pearl-clutching older woman before his face fell back into its usual cocky grin. “You’ll meet her, and you’ll regret saying that.”

Phoenix laughed. “I’ve got the power of being a woman on my side. Bet she doesn’t often get the chance to chat about her experience as a woman in the Navy with someone who understands,” she replied with a shrug. “Now are we playing or what?”

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’. Keep your shirt on,” Jake drawled, setting his drink down and grabbing the pool cue from her outstretched hand. “Ready?”

“Fuck yeah.” A sharp grin from Phoenix had him smirking and if he spent the night trying to beat her, that was no one’s business but his own.

===

Training the next day was brutal. Maverick was clearly playing catch up from missing a day of training and he was making everyone hurt. “Come on Hangman, you’ll have to do better than that!” Phoenix had teased over the headset. “Gotta improve your skills or the hot Seal lady won’t be impressed!”

Jake rolled his eyes, knowing that everyone on the ground listening would hear him if he replied. So he stayed quiet, pulling the throttle up allowing him to go up and over Phoenix and Bob to try and lock on, but failed when Phoenix rolled out of the way. She led them in a chase across the sky, neither plane being ‘hit’, but neither pilot lost.

“What the hell was that?” Bob asked when they landed. “Where did you guys find a Navy Seal?”

Phoenix chuckled, “Bagman found her at the bar last night. He’s smitten.” Having landed back on the airstrip and taxiing it back towards its storing bay with the other Dagger aircraft, she unclipped herself from the harness and jumped down only to be met by Hangman standing right behind her. “Jesus fuck!” She yelled, right as Bob shouted “What the shit man?”

“Nothin’. Jus’ creepin’. Wanted to freak you out a bit,” he said with a shrug and a mischievous grin crossing his face.

“Asshole.”

“That’s me Nix, that’s me.” And Jake wandered off in the direction of the classroom to hear what Mav had to say.

Bob hopped down and watched him walk off. “You think he’s aware that a Navy Seal has standards?”

Phoenix snorted. “Unlikely. But maybe that’s why he’s trying to sneak around here so he can impress her. I won’t tell him that sneaking up on a Seal is a death sentence.” She pulled her helmet off, tucking it under her arm. “C’mon Bobert, let's get ripped into by Mav.”

“If you’re not telling, I’m not telling,” Bob replied with his own grin. “And do we have to? I’d much rather stay here where it’s somewhat safe with my ego intact, thank you.”

“Right? I would too if Mav wouldn’t send out a search party to find us,” she quipped. “Come on, better late than never.”

“I think the Seal would disagree with you.” But he followed Natasha anyway, trying not to drag his heels to avoid what he was sure would be the telling off of his life.

===

Unsurprisingly, Bear was also on base. After all, this was the only Navy base on Coronado Island, so it made sense that all Navy personnel would be stationed together. What she wasn’t expecting was to run into a pair of Navy pilots as she walked back to her car. “Watch it,” she grumbled, shouldering her way past the man and woman.

“There are Seals on this base?”

“Might want to get your eyes checked there, cause I’m not in-fucking-visible,” she retorted.

“Hold up, sorry. Are you the Seal that Bagman spent half of last night talking about?” The man asked in a quiet voice.

Softening her approach just a smidge, Bear turned and nodded. “I am. Something you wanted to ask?”

“No, not at all. Just curious as to who got our precious Bagman all shook up,” the woman replied, before extending a hand to shake. “I’m Phoenix, this is Bob.”

“Good to meet you. I’m Bear.”

“Bear?” The woman known now as Phoenix asked, confusion crossing her face. “How’d you get that?”

Bear grinned. “Show me yours, I’ll show you mine?” She offered, eyes flicking to the tall quiet man who stood awkwardly off to the side. “I don’t bite, Bob. Not unless you want me to,” she added with a wink.

Bob flushed, and shook his head. “Pretty sure I’d get punched.”

Bear gave him a look. “We’ll revisit that later, but continuing on. You were saying Phoenix?”

With a reluctant sigh, Phoenix explained how she’d had to make an emergency landing when her engines caught fire, resulting in a fiery tail across the sky. “Bird on fire, Phoenix. Same difference.”

The other woman chuckled to herself. “That’s a good one. Bear is because I’m cranky as fuck when I get up in the morning,” she told them.

Bob grinned at her explanation. “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, but that is great.”

“I should be heading off. Lots of meetings tomorrow and all, but it was good to meet you both. Maybe I’ll see you around.” With a wave, Bear headed back to her car. “Oh, and one last thing, if it ever gets out to Hangman you met me, don’t tell him my name. He has to work for that one,” she said loudly, turning to walk backwards.

“Sounds like a plan,” Phoenix called back, giving her a quick wave. Quietly to Bob, she whispered “Bagman is in for an uphill climb if he wants to even have a chance with her.”

“I know,” Bob whispered back. “It’s going to be great.”

===

A/N: So many thanks to @startrekfangirl2233, @dakotakazansky, and @sarahsmi13s for being the most incredible beta readers ever! I love you all so much!

And to all my beautiful readers: my inbox is open so come and scream at me in reblogs, comments, or DMs, I promise I will get to you all!

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luveline · 1 year

Text

𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

You don’t mean to make an enemy of Eddie Munson — he’s handsome, and talented, but he’s the biggest jerk you’ve ever met. Eddie thinks you’re infuriatingly pretty, emphasis on the infuriating. Too bad you just can’t seem to leave each other alone. [13k]

fem!reader, enemies-to-lovers, rival rockstars, mutual pining (and hatred), slight miscommunication, angst, hurt-comfort, eddie has mixed intentions, kissing / heavy petting, hickeys, sexual tension, eventual hate-fucking, some misogyny (not eddie), TW readers bandmate is a bully, TW drugs/alc/smoking, disclaimer: I can’t play an instrument

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Indianapolis International Airport, Indiana, Late 1988.

There's a really sweet-looking boy sitting in the chair across from you. The airport is blotted out by both your headphones —huge chunky cans, the best you could afford— and your sunglasses. He's a shade of sepia from the lenses, dark hair darker still where it's tucked into the hood of his hoodie.

There's no way he could possibly know you're staring at him while you're facing your lap, scribbling lyrics for a song that'll never get made with your body curled inwards, and yet he looks up from the novel in his. He smiles, his cheeks pulled up, and he looks younger. He isn't old by any means but something about his smile is transformative.

You don't mean to give yourself away. You smile back just a little.

He says something. You push your headphones around your neck and break the seal, soft 70's rock replaced by the sounds of the airport, footsteps and clicking and children laughing somewhere behind you.

"I'm sorry," you say, covering the cans of your headphones to cut their weak buzzing, "what did you say?"

"I said you have good taste."

He nods toward your guitar case patterned in overlapping band stickers.

You notice his own case on the seat next to him. It's more conspicuous than your own with only one sticker, a band you've never heard of.

"I wish I could say the same, but I don't know who that is, 'Corroded Coffin'?" you ask, purely curious.

He sits forward, a picture of casual confidence as he drops his face into his palm, elbow digging into the ripped jeans covering his knee. "I'm offended, sweetheart. They're only the best sound to come out of Indiana in the last ten years."

"The Stacey's?" you offer, scandalised by his suggestion. "Doorway to Cooperstown? The Cats?"

He blinks at you. "You know the scene."

"It's my scene," you say.

You don't mean to sound pretentious, and hopefully you don't, but music is your life.

"It's mine, too," he says. He leans forward and scrubs a hand through his hair, scratching absentmindedly. "Where are you going? Must be pretty important to tear you away."

"New York. I'm– I'm a techie for Godless. I will be, once I get there." You sound smug and nervous at the same time.

"Holy shit," he says. He smiles a gorgeous, awful kind of smile, like you've been friends for years, and your good news is his. "No fucking way. Go you."

Godless have been compared to loads of bands but the one you favour is a heavier, feminine The Clash. It's an emerging sound, punk rock stolen, repurposed, and remade. Reborn by girlhood rage. You love their sound (though you have some notes), you love their statement, and you're probably the happiest you've ever been knowing you'll be behind the scenes of a new era of music.

"And you're taking her?" he asks, gesturing to your guitar case.

Inside is a beat up old bass guitar you got for nothing. You're self-taught, you're good, but you don't have any disillusions on what you'll be doing on tour.

"She's worthless," you say, "mostly taking her for company." You reuse his pronouns, though you aren't the type to assign personality to your instruments. "What about you, uh–"

"Eddie," he says, taking his guitar case into two fine hands. Your eyes snag on his ragtag assortment of rings, and he leans over the neck of the case to retake your gaze. "This… is Sweetheart."

—

Hotel Edison, New York, Early 1990.

"We have to go. Why are you guys never ready when I tell you to be?"

You panic slightly. "I need a minute."

"Ananya, could you find, like, a modicum of patience? Fucking annoying."

Sharp, Morgan's unhappiness sounds over the droning drill of your shitty hair dryer. You shift where you're kneeling in front of the floor length mirror to check she isn't talking to you — unusual, but not impossible that her hostility would be aimed at someone who isn't Ananya.

Ananya stands in the middle of the hotel room, thick eyebrows pulled into a familiar scowl.

"Get it together," she says disdainfully, like Morgan's nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

You wish you had her confidence when it comes to Morgan's tantrums. You stand up, clad in nothing more than underwear and a pair of black stockings, your t-shirt in one hand and the hairdryer still humming in the other. You turn it off and let it drop to the floor, worried you're just another rockstar cliche as you take in the state of your room. Your suitcase is open and your clothes are all over the place, laid flat in an attempt to dry your rain-soaked clothes. Your underwear dangle from the lampshade, a mix of pretty lingerie you've yet to wear and full-shaped panties that had made Morgan laugh for a minute, no pauses.

"I can see why you're so desperate," she'd barbed.

You slip your shirt over your head in case you have to act as a human shield. It's honestly not the worst thing they've had you involved in this year.

"You're not wearing that, are you?" Morgan asks.

She's a fascinating creature in that she isn't always talking with thinly veiled passive aggression. You genuinely believe she's looking out for you sometimes, or believe that she believes it, at least. She doesn't say it with malice, simply asks.

She's multi-faceted.

"No," you say, though you'd been meaning to.

"Good, skirts really aren't your thing. You look blocky. I have a pair of flares in my bag, wear them."

And Morgan — Morgan's the lead singer of Godless. You don't really have a choice.

You find the pants she'd instructed you to wear and half tuck your shirt, scrabbling for your shoes as Ananya starts lamenting the time, sat on the small table by the TV.

"They have to wait for us, babe, that's the whole point," Morgan says, fussing over her eye make-up.

"No, they don't. And we really don't need the attention right now."

"That's dramatic."

Ananya leans forward and clicks on the TV with a perfect finger. The screen buzzes to life. She clicks through the channels until she gets to the local news station, and then she slumps over the frame on her elbow.

You giggle behind your hand. Onscreen, images of Morgan are blown up and slated, your bandmate sloppy drunk on the steps of Covey Gold. They've caught you red-handed in the background pretending you aren't with her, but luckily Morgan's too obsessed with herself to notice.

"I really don't see the issue," she says breezily, slipping into her tiny heels one foot at a time. "I look sick."

She looks stunning, easily, but that's not the problem.

"You have a fucking snow trail," Ananya says.

Unfortunately, Morgan's left nostril is crusted with coke.

"It's punk rock!" Morgan's moved onto earrings now, and she's jutting her tiny pointed chin toward the door. "Hello? We're late."

You don't roll your eyes, but you could. You slip your shoes onto your feet and tuck the laces inside without tying them while the news anchor on TV continues to relay current events.

"Fletcher isn't the only rockstar making a mess in New York City this week. Members of up and coming heavy metal band Corroded Coffin were sanctioned by Flume Venues Tuesday night for damaging twenty six thousand dollars worth of equipment when their lead guitarist kicked over an amp and caused a quote unquote 'domino effect.'" The anchor laughs. "Their PR has certainly felt some corrosion."

You look up at the joke and are just in time to catch a picture splayed across the screen of the band. You're so close that their faces are made up of red, blue, and green, more colour than photo. Your skin glows with the image. Your eyes widen, perplexed.

"Do we know those guys?" you ask.

Morgan grabs your hand and drags you up. "They know us," she says. "That's what matters."

Ananya turns off the TV.

You're thrilled at being included in the 'us'. You've been an unofficial official member of Godless for four months now. Each one feels more unreal than the first, and each one brings a solidity. In Ananya's words, you're on 'probation, given you can keep up', but you look at her now, her hopeless expression as she closes your room door behind you, and know she's not hoisting you off the stage anytime soon. She'd have to deal with the world's tallest toddler alone.

Your tour manager and assorted personnel meet you in the hotel's lobby, furious and panicky at your being late. Morgan spouts the same spiel as you get shepherded into cars idling outside of the hotel.

"We're the talent. What were you gonna do, throw the gig without us?"

You're both embarrassed by her and impressed. Morgan is pretty and talented and extremely loud — she's not afraid to stick up for herself, even when she's (nearly always) wrong. She sees each hurdle in her life as an unfair disadvantage. Insanity, in your opinion, considering nearly all of those hurdles have been jumped by means of a favour, rather than any expended effort on her part.

Her bad attitude aside, she's a good singer. She's gorgeous, exactly the kind of face that obliterates mainstream reluctance.

She sits between you and Ananya and kicks her feet out over the console, boots between your driver and your tour manager, Angel.

"You guys can't be late like this. You have half the time you need for sound check now, you realise?"

"I don't need practice," Morgan says.

"It's not practice, Morgan, it's–"

Morgan laughs and bursts into song. She does it whenever she doesn't want to listen to Angel, and she sings an apt tune: Angel by Aerosmith. You look out the window rather than watch, eyes snagging on the wet New York streets and taxis and people, so many people despite the weather, black umbrellas like inverse stars lining the sidewalks.

Morgan has a great voice, raw when she wants it to be and full of life when she doesn't. You can't hear Angel's venue instructions under it and are barely paying attention as a lanyard gets tossed into your lap. It sounds stupid, and a few months ago you wouldn't believe it, but you get used to the motions. Ferried from one place to another, all anybody cares about is technicalities, politics, public image, and how you look on stage. All you care about is the music. Your bass guitar in your hands, that familiar weight, the strings as your pick slides across them, and the sea of the crowd. Its waves and ripples, hands and eyes and mouths like poppies, red-pink tongues and black throats at the centre as they scream. When you throw your pick people want to catch it. They fight over it. You throw a few. There's always more in a box in some poor techies bag.

The cushy car you're in pulls up and parks outside of the venue's main entrance. You climb onto a wet curb and shield the top of your hand with your head, dirty rain splashing down in fat, sparse drops that chill your scalp. Morgan blitzes inside and Ananya tags behind her. You go slower, eyes following down the sidewalk where, in a couple of hours, fans will wait to see you, shivering in the cold.

—

Every breath Gareth takes sucks in Eddie's short sleeved t-shirt. Eddie scowls at the top of his bandmate's head and tries to shift away.

"Seriously, man? There's a whole fucking couch," Eddie grouches.

Gareth sits up with bleary eyes furrowed into a scowl of his own. He's pale and missing his glasses, giving him the appearance of a concerned zombie.

"Shithead."

Eddie has a lot of emotions he wants to express and none he feels he can properly articulate. The injustice of his current situation, for one, is a burning irritant. How the fuck can you get grounded by your manager? And why did his warden have to be the most boring member of the band? Sorry Gareth.

"Can't you sleep in your bed?" Eddie asks.

"You'll sneak out."

Eddie will sneak out. He's a fledgling rockstar in New York. Suddenly, there are a hundred colourful boozy doors wide open to him, and he intends on haunting the threshold of each one accordingly.

But you kick one amp and boom, you're the antichrist.

"You know this is stupid."

Gareth rubs his eyes. "I mean, do I know that?" He reaches behind the couch armrest for the two-litre bottle of soda stashed there, and he talks as he brings the lip to his mouth. "You've been a real pissant lately, Munson."

"You're a pissant, pissant," Eddie says, really scowling now.

Gareth kicks him across the sofa. Eddie kicks back, foot jamming into the side of Gareth's knees. Soda spills in a shoot over the carpet. Gareth is a know-it-all with a predisposition for being as unpleasant as he can possibly be at all times, in Eddie's opinion, and Eddie knows the second the soda lands what he's going to say.

"Nice going, hotshot. This is why you're fucking grounded."

Eddie's halfway across the sofa when the door opens, an unimpressed Jamison standing with the light behind him. He flicks on the main switch and glares, brown skin golden in the resulting yellow light.

"What are you losers doing?"

"I prefer the term 'freak'," Gareth says, glare softening. "I'm fending off Munson's advances, what does it look like? No means no, asshole."

"You're disgusting," Eddie says.

"You look disgusting," Jamison echoes. "I don't know who forgot to tell you, but they invented running water a century ago. Go shower. I'll watch baby boy."

Eddie thinks Jamison is hot in the freaky way — Jamison is conventionally attractive, and Eddie would let him get freaky if he asked. He has a perfect complexion, the most attractive of the band by far, medium brown skin and a broad-shouldered frame. He's the eye-candy, literally; they'd admitted him into the fold based one parts on his talent, two parts his image.

He can play piano, guitar, bass guitar, violin, all that shit. He's a musician, and he's better than Eddie at everything but the guitar.

Nobody's better than Eddie on guitar. At least, not anybody running in his circles.

"I can't shower, I'm watching him."

"I'll watch him," Jamison says, like this is extremely obvious and Gareth is an idiot.

Eddie pulls a couch cushion over his face and drags himself onto his back, whining into the fabric unhappily. "This is fucking bullshit," he mutters

"This is due diligence," Gareth says. Eddie feels his weight lift off the couch and lets his legs slide into the empty space.

"This is fucking bullshit," he repeats.

There's a silence. He sulks. Gareth collects toiletries and the bathroom door clicks open and closed. The shower spray begins to sputter, and then the pillow is being tugged out of Eddie's hands and tossed aside.

"Jame," he protests.

"Shut up." Jamison stares down at Eddie. "Are you done being a child?"

"I already told you, it was an accident. Yeah, I kicked the amp, because my fucking string snapped and nobody would listen to me. I didn't know it was gonna actually move."

"If we go out, can you behave?" Jamison asks quietly.

Eddie sits up ramrod straight. "Absolutely… Why? What's so important?"

"Jeff's asleep, I'm bored, and-" He shrugs offhandedly. "If you got 'em, flaunt 'em?"

Jamison holds up a silver pair of car keys. They clink together, the sound music to Eddie's ears.

—

So you and Eddie meet for the second time like this.

“Does it have to be this loud?” you shout over the music, pleading gaze on Ananya, who shrugs.

She looks better after a show, even drunk. Her lipstick is a pink-red with a darker but incomprehensible outline, leaving her looking kissed sick. Her dark eyebrows are ruffled and thick, their minimal gel sweated off. She has the most heartbreaking expression about her, and you think it isn’t truly fair, how she can look so pretty and be so talented at the same time. A tragedy that other people have time for both. You feel as though you barely have the time for one.

Despite the volume, you love the sound. This is your sound. Small town hatred in a big room — begging to get out and the music proof enough that you did. It’s passionate and anxious, a two-chord progression that’s boggling simplistic but drawing you in anyhow. Wrinkled noses and bored eyes say it’s not to everyone’s taste, but you’d hazard a guess that whoever plugged it into the stereo isn’t the kind of person who worries about public opinion. If Godless worked more on your choices, this is how you’d sound.

“Whose house are we in?” you ask.

“Babe,” Ananya says, “seriously, there’s a whole room of people who want to answer you. Go bother someone.” Else. Go bother someone else.

She dismisses you with little more than that, slinking into the kitchen with a toss of her thick hair. The red of her corset top darkens to a bloodier shade in the mood lighting. She looks as though she’s bleeding out from the back.

You aren’t sure Ananya’s right. You aren’t, in the eyes of the people here, anything impressive. A techie who’s been filling in isn’t anything new, no, you’re only impressive if you get to stay, if you play better than anybody else. You’re never gonna prove that under Morgan’s thumb, and you’ll never prove it without her.

I need a bump, you think. Morgan’s coke nose flashes in your mind and you change your mind. I need something to drink. Something fucking cold, but if Ananya thinks you’ve followed her into the kitchen she’ll throw a pissy fit in front of everybody.

The room is a gaudy yellow, a tobacco stained fingerprint over the lampshade with whorls of dirt in lines, darker patches where shadier reconciliation plays; in one corner, a bag of coke, another something worse. This had been a surprise with age rather than location, the commonplace of cocaine and the bravado of its sufferers from high school and up. You’d die for some of that cocky confidence now, numb gums and a sullen credit card.

I need to get paid.

The heat of a cigarette tip kisses your shoulder. In your ear, the sound of someone taking a long, slow drag, crackling paper. You turn into it slowly, looking up slower, right into the skinny face of your missing-in-action bandmate.

“What’s up?” Morgan asks, blowing her smoke in your face. Your eyes burn.

She’s placing the cigarette between your lips before you can answer. Whether she believes she’s tormenting you or throwing you a life raft, you’re grateful for it, sucking in a blistering breath and wincing as it floods your nose.

You blow it away from her.

“Ashtray?” you ask, pinching the cig between two fingers.

“The floor’s fine.”

You raise your eyebrows, unsurprised at her cavalier suggestion and flick it still smouldering into your cupped palm. The door is perpetually open, guests flicking in and out like the froth of a cresting wave, a rushing entrance and a sluggish recession.

“Can you get me a bag?” you ask her.

“I’m not your daddy,” she murmurs.

“Bored already?”

“I have to be bored?”

To bother bothering you? Yes, Morgan would have to be bored. Bored or wasted, and she doesn’t seem inebriated. You place the cig between your teeth and lean your head back to look at the ceiling rather than give her the attentive watching she desires, the roof of your mouth an uncomfortable heat.

You remove it, blow all your smoke skyward, and drop your head. “How are you gonna fuck with me tonight?” you ask plainly.

You find you aren’t asking Morgan.

In her place stands a much taller, much more handsome face, big eyes set into pale skin. You don't recognise him at first. He wears the uniform well, in company with every other guy in the room, a crumpled shirt you imagine discarded and re-discarded on different floors. Ripped, dark jeans. He could be wearing nothing at all and the air of intimidation surrounding him would survive — there's something behind his eyes that alarms you, a knife's edge. Sweetness bordering cruelty.

"I don't know yet," he says. An insipid smile takes his lips from corner to corner as he eases the cig from your hand. "I'm sure we can think of something… together. Sweetheart."

Boys don't always give you the time of day, not the nice ones, and he doesn't look very nice. He looks like he's trying to calculate what he can get out of you. You're thinking you'll pay just about anything if he can get you a bump of something fun.

He sees your look too, his lips poised to mention it, but you've just realised where you know him from.

"I saw you on TV."

"Yeah? In Madison Square Garden?"

"In court." You give him your best doe eyes, a soft, sweet look, far from mastered and yet effective where it counts. "How much did you have to pay for all the stuff you broke?"

His smile shutters, realigns. A split-second and enough to let you know his cool gaze is nothing more than a parlour trick.

"You look familiar," he says.

You hum. "Rollerboy paid, huh?"

He glares, the idea that his record label might pay for the damages he'd caused laughable and undoubtedly correct. You aren't trying to make enemies, aren't attempting to play someone you're not — you're meek mannered, mollycoddled, too naive to be in the industry for very long. You can see it on his face, exactly what he's thinking, and it's easy to see because everybody else is thinking it too. Even you.

Before you can repair the offence you've caused, he's dropping your stolen cigarette on the ground and grinding out the flame.

"Nice to meet you," he says slowly.

You stare straight ahead and listen to him leave. Smoke tickles your nose. When you look down, the cigarette is smouldering. You squat down, pick up the flattened bud, and drive it into the floor until your fingers are black with soot.

You wrap those same ashy fingers around the neck of a bottle of coke and try not to be too pissy about it. Fucking rockstars and their fucking egos. He did something embarrassing, and you're the villain?

You feel bad halfway through your coke. Maybe he'd had nice intentions, but how could you know? You'd talked for all of two minutes. And even if he was bad news, he likely wouldn't have been any worse than half the jerks here.

He'd have had a handsome face to look up into while said intentions were being acted out, at least.

You frown more. Wishing you'd been nicer to him because you're bored enough to want to get laid isn't strictly kind. Human, maybe.

The feeling worsens when his appearance garners a small crowd. He sits in a nest of dirty couch cushions and a cloud of smoke, the smell of green strong enough to irritate you from here, telling a story with frenetic hands, and despite the cool look he'd given you earlier, he's making a show of it. Cussing, giggling, blunt between his lips as he ushers for a zippo. A pretty girl with surfer curls relights it, an act of flirting in the way she pulls her shoulders in.

He takes the blunt from between his lips and blows the smoke so it misses her completely.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he says, voice rough as hewn stone.

You kick one shoe behind the other and squeeze your tired thighs together. You get this feeling like a matchstick, red powdered head flicking against gritty scratchpad but failing to strike. Something is familiar about the way he speaks, his sticky inflection.

Or you're lying to yourself, and you just like the way he talks

The way he would've spoken, thick fingers braceleting your wrists as he forces your hands into the pillow behind your head, the weight of his body on top of yours, the snugness of a knee between your soft thighs. Your hotel light would've kissed his left side, dividing his curls into strands, the individuals glowing like silver thread as they danced over your cheek and temple, as his breath warmed your lips, as he closed the distance.

Joan, you could hit him.

"That's an unfortunate hand. Are you sober?"

Cheeks full of heat at being caught in a fantasy, you lift your eyes and meet light, almond brown eyes almost entirely shielded by darker eyebrows. A man stands in front of you, a comfortable gap between his nondescript skate shoes and your worn boots. He's tall and pretty and surprising: he's smiling at you like you're something worth smiling at.

"I'm–" You brandish the bottle as if that might explain it but harshly set it aside. "No, not sober. I mean, not willingly. Coke's were out here, so…"

"Oh, right," he says, nodding knowledgeably. "Right, I was sorry to hear about that."

You lick your lips. "'Bout what?"

"They banned beautiful women from the kitchen," he says. "Hadn't you heard?"

"No, that one passed me by."

"I'm Jamison," he says, holding out his free hand.

You take it. You tell him your name.

—

Morgan is crying. Big heaping sobs that she attempts to talk through, creating this ringing whining sound that fills you top to toe with anxiety. You lean back in your hotel bed, wondering what it is in the world that could've happened to her as a kid to make her this unsatisfied now. Ananya blows on her freshly painted nails though they've been dry for hours, knee to knee with you atop the squishy hotel sheets.

"I can't fucking do this," Morgan cries, tears dripping down her bare skinned cheeks.

The three of you have been sworn off of makeup, junk food, and unapproved wash products for the next four to five hours. You're happy for this to continue until the end of time. Morgan, less so.

You're trying to decipher exactly why she's crying, feeling a confusion you'd liken to the first modern day archaeologist that laid eyes on ancient hieroglyphics. All these symbols and colours and stories. No clear translation.

If Ananya were an archaeologist, she's the kind who got to see the Rosetta stone. Morgan's moods make sense to her, and while she often doesn't empathise with her, she at least knows what to say to appease the worst of it.

"It'll be alright, Morgs," she says, her faux sympathy unconvincing.

You feel a little sorry for Morgan and clear your throat. "And you're not by yourself. We're here."

"Fucking amazing help you've been," Morgan says. Her voice does a theatrical peak, pure hysterics.

It irks you how good she looks. You think that, maybe, if you could make your problems pretty the way that she does, you'd be a lot happier overall. You've often lamented that you suffer the kind of unhappiness that makes people uncomfortable and unwilling. You cry ugly, and always alone, hands over your mouth to smother the sounds, and that's when you do cry. Mostly, you bounce around inside yourself and feel very afraid that this feeling is forever.

But, you think presently, that isn't Morgan's fault. Not all of it.

Morgan throws her hands out at you and Ananya and spins on her heel, through the bathroom and into her own separate room.

"At least the backdrop of her breakdown is nice," you murmur, hugging the pillow against your stomach, heels digging into the mattress to keep your knees up.

Ananya snorts and flicks to the next page of her magazine. "Right?" She stretches her naked legs out over your sheets. You know she's decided to ruin your bed with her after-waxing oils rather than her own. "Better here than back home."

"Why's she so upset?" you ask.

Already, your thoughts are starting to drift. You take another peek at the phone across the room and will it into ringing.

"She draws them on everyday anyway," Ananya says agreeably.

You summarise that Morgan's eyebrows are the root of the problem. You don't blame her for wanting to look perfect tomorrow night. Your stomach is a weight every time you think about it, solid as petrified wood. This will be your first TV appearance that isn't a recorded concert, a mid-show performance for the Prover Music Awards, and it should further cement your place in the band. If you look good and people like you, public favour might be enough to keep you around. If they don't, there'll be a couple hundred different audience members with industry links. If you play well, and you're certain you will, you might finally prove to Morgan, Ananya, and the rest of the management team that you're worth choosing.

You want it badly. You want lots of things, and being a real part of Godless could hand them all to you on a studded platter. Recognition of your talent, further experience, the chance to perform and be supported, to be adored, and the money isn't something you'll pretend you don't think about. A rockstar's salary is hardly stable, but a lack of stability is almost always supplemented by the amount. Wouldn't that be nice? To buy your own bass, to buy whatever you liked. To go out and have spa treatments like the one you'd had just this morning whenever you please. To get to feel beautiful and limp as this all the time. More than anything, you want the validation, the poster that comes with it.

If Godless decides to keep you, it's a huge, blinking, neon-lit sign that says you're good enough.

They chose me, and you're stupid for letting me go.

They chose me. I'm something worth something. You didn't see it, but it's there in me.

The subtext isn't important.

You're scared shitless at the reality of performing tonight, knowing any fuck up could follow you, or worse ruin your hopefully budding career in rock for the rest of time. You have this body and this name, and if you want to keep your life you have to be good. It has your fingers itching for your piece-of-shit bass guitar where you know she's hiding under the bed. You should be practising, but this entire week has been practising. The dress rehearsal went well, and you'll give yourself a pass for having certain distractions.

Morgan warbles. You glance at the phone.

"Waiting for someone?" Ananya asks. She misses nothing.

You both wince as Morgan screams and throws something across her bedroom, the eventual clattering smash indicative of a fragile target.

"Think room service will send up a sedative?" she asks.

Room service won't send a sedative, nor will they send the single hashbrown Morgan is apparently craving. You're starting to panic when the solution practically jumps at you.

"Morgan," you say gently, standing in the doorway of her room with a tentative smile, "can't offer you something, can I?"

You hold up your little pouch. Morgan doesn't know you well, but she knows it's where you keep anything interesting. She should know, she pilfers it of anything truly exciting within the day.

"Don't be stupid," she scathes. "My eyes will be bloodshot. You know smoking doesn't agree with me."

You hold in a comment on how she'd literally been smoking out of the window last night.

"It's a brownie. It's a couple days old, but… perfectly edible." You offer her the pouch, dropping it at the end of the bed among her things.

She picks at the brownie, timid princess bites that make you want to roll your eyes. You often think the worst thing about Morgan is that you love her, or you could love her more, if only she felt the same way. She isn't all evil and she never will be, she's just a person. But she takes shit out on you and makes your life harder than it needs to be, so even her most endearing moments fall short.

"This tastes awful."

You laugh and kneel down at her dresser to start putting her thrown jewellery box back together. "It wasn't that nice when I got it," you lie.

You clean her room. Morgan never wants to do anything she knows can be done for her, and you know she won't bother here, not when room service will spend the hour it takes themselves. You think of some poor service worker squaring away the impossible amount of stockings and garters for a sad $3.45 an hour and the task suddenly becomes much more enjoyable.

Morgan doesn't say thank you. You don't insult her intelligence by thinking she isn't aware of what you're doing. She sniffles and blows her nose daintily with a balsam tissue.

"I saw you talking to that guy from Corroded Coffin."

You brush off your knees as you stand. "Which one?"

"Eddie. The rhythm guitarist."

"The loud one."

"He's kind of hot. If he calls, you should go out with him."

"That's not–" who I'm waiting for. You squint at her. "Morgan, that would be terrible."

"Can you get me something from the minibar?"

You kick open her minibar and grab a cold can of seltzer. She slides onto her back and accepts it, pressing it to her eyes with a relaxed smile. Eyebrows forgotten, it seems.

"That would be perfect. He can be the cat to your mouse."

"Your definition of perfect–" You cut yourself off again when she starts to laugh. You don't believe it to be genuine.

She lounges in bed for an hour until she's high, reappearing in you and Ananya's suite with a dizzying smile. You don't mind high Morgan. She's smoked enough in her time to bypass the dizzying, giggly kind of stoner. This Morgan is relaxed, almost easygoing. She sits at the end of your bed and watches you pluck out a bass line proposal for one of their current works in progress, head bobbing.

An hour again and the stylists appear to spray you down with smells and oils and make up, and soon you've been strapped into a short shining dress with a cowl neck, dark black stockings that shine like oil, and heels you can't really walk in. You complain about them politely enough that Mel, the man in charge of your 'costuming', swaps them out for shorter ones.

"This fucking corset is a nightmare," Morgan grumbles.

"Sorry, love, that's all we've got."

The commute is over in a blink. You arrive outside of the venue for the Awards, staring up at its imposing silhouette against the skyline, a dark building in the strange blue night. The sun is unseen but light illuminates the wet streets in blinding patches, so white they glow violet behind your eyes.

There's a modest red carpet where you thankfully don't have to pose for many photos. After all, besides being a temporary member of the stage, you aren't truly in Godless. Most casual fans (the majority of their fan base) only know the faces in the magazines and on TV, and you have yet to be in either until tonight.

After a bundle of shy and regretfully nerve-wracking photos, you're drawn inside the building and away from all the flashing hubbub. You sit in your seats, short rows divided by the occasional table for drinks, and you try not to sink into the carpeted floor. It smells insanely like nothing at all. No bleach, no air conditioning cleanliness. Every now and then another guest walks past your row and you get a whiff of perfume.

A familiar scent pricks your attention.

You look up, slightly over your shoulder, and your eyes meet familiar sticky brown.

He drops down in the seat next to you, and you think, No way.

He holds up the placard that had been under his thigh. His name is typed in clear blocked letters.

It's a strange humiliation to have been read for filth like that. You're you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me expression can be pretty telling, evidently.

"Hey, sweetheart."

Matchstick against the box. You tilt your head and try to place him for the tenth time.

"Have we met before?" you ask.

He actually grins like this is the best thing you could've said. "You met my friend," he says, pointing down the aisle.

Jamison stands talking to a woman who is admittedly gorgeous, and, to your sinking horror, much prettier than you. They kiss each other on the cheek and it's the kind of over friendly to make you sick.

Eddie pouts at you. "Better luck next time, sweet thing." He throws one leg over another. "You look different. New haircut?"

"You look exactly the same," you say.

It's surprising how untouched he is. Sure, he's had some makeup applied and his hairs been tousled into life, but his outfit is remarkable in its simplicity. Surely rockstars can wear suits too? He looks neat and dark and tidy, but he also looks effortless. It's irritating.

This phenomena is not self contained, you find, as his bandmates sit down the row with their managerial chaperones and one date. Jamison sits right at the very end. He doesn't look at you.

You avert your eyes and wonder if it's possible to die from embarrassment.

The venue gets increasingly busy as the bigger names and bands flood inside. Soon, you're sitting amongst legends, people who pretty much spearheaded late 80s glam rock, punk, grunge. People you've only ever seen on TV. And it isn't restricted to alternative sound, there are pop stars and their supermodel girlfriends shaking hands and kissing cheeks in the row behind, while producers with names big enough to make your mouth dry up clap each other on the shoulders in front.

"You'll catch flies."

You turn to Eddie. He doesn't sound entirely cruel. He doesn't sound like much of anything. You could almost believe him to be a friend.

There's a smudge of eyeliner on his cheek.

"You have–" You point at your own cheek, a mirror.

His lightness fades. "Nice."

"No, seriously, you have something. Make up, on your cheek. I have a wipe if you want it."

He scrubs at his cheek ineffectually.

You're reaching out to help before you can stop yourself, witnessing your own actions with a strange out-of-body horror as you wipe the small black line gently. It spreads, and you panic and dab at it until it's an unfortunate grey shadow.

"Let me get the wet wipe," you say. You'd been holding your breath, awkwardness stiff between you, and it sounds too much like a laugh.

Eddie flinches away from your touch and covers his cheek. "I got it," he says stonily.

He leaves, stepping over his bandmates feet like stepping stones, earning a cacophony of protests and disparagments.

Dick, you think. Again, that had been a little bit your fault. Not all of it, he seems to be in a perpetual bad mood that can't be your doing, but you can understand why he might think you were laughing at him, and the defensiveness that comes with it. When he comes back you'll apologise.

Or that's what you tell yourself. The lights go down, the curtains open, and the venue erupts with applause. By the time Eddie takes his seat again you're too afraid of disturbing the quiet.

After half an hour you're ushered backstage. You have to move in front of Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin as you go.

He looks up at you in silence. Head tipped back, face barely lit by the lights while you stand in between his legs. His lips part and he's all rockstar, his brown eyes and their edging of straight dark lashes, his pink, pretty lips. He has a distinct line to his nose, a cupid's bow perfectly shaped. His maker must have looked at him and known somebody, somewhere, would want to kiss him right there. His lips twitch.

"Can I help you?" he whispers.

You stammer a response that won't form and Morgan shoves you.

"Fucking move," she says.

His expression flickers.

"Sorry," you say, unsure of who you're talking to. "Sorry." You sound pathetic. A kicked puppy.

You keep your eyes on the floor until you're in the aisle, where a new set of nerves tries to swallow you whole.

—

Eddie knows exactly who you are, and he hates himself for it. He remembers you, the first you, shy and sweet and so excited, sitting pretty in Indianapolis International Airport with your guitar and your huge leaky headphones pounding death metal. While fame has broadened the amount of people who want to sleep with him, it hasn't changed his type, and you'd been a ringer, right there in the middle.

You'd been pretty and maybe you knew it, maybe you didn't, it didn't matter — what he liked most was the way your hands had moved as you spoke, hummingbird thrumming, an energy he'd seen in himself and every other musician desperate for a chance. He loved the passion and your eyelashes and the way you'd smiled as you'd waited for your plane, the two of you destined for New York, where you both seem to have looped back now. Only, he'd been cursed with remembering your every detail, and you either didn't remember him or don't care. Both sting, but he likes the second better. He'll take purposeful cruelty over the casual any day.

Like your thumb pressed to his cheek. The heat, and then your laugh.

"The fuck is this?" Gareth asks, leaning over the space between their two chairs.

Eddie looks up at you on stage and shrugs. While bands made up completely of women aren't new, they aren't as common as bands made up of men, obviously. He likes it, likes your sound, though it's not the kind of thing Corroded Coffin would ever play, and he won't join in on Gareth's doubt. Even if you are, like, a magnanimous shithead. You're good.

"She's hot," he furthers.

"Jesus, Gareth."

"What? She's fucking hot."

He has to squint to see you from this distance, and he can't truly make out many details. Gareth's not wrong. You're pretty, and out of the three members of the band you're the only one who actually looks like they're having a good time.

The lead singer trails around the stage pulling Blond Ambition poses. She can sing well, she has a strong voice that does whatever it is she bends it into, but her propensity to drop the guitar slung around her neck to grab at the microphone stand like it's escaping isn't helping anything.

The girl on drums is arguably given a pass, fighting to keep up with the pace, sweat sticking her thick hair to her neck in glossy spirals and her huge eyes set in concentration. Her messy lipstick sparkles under the stage lights, a party pink that pops against her brown skin.

He thinks you might be trying to cover up the lead singer's sloppy playing. You're good, sure, but it's not the easiest to tell when it's ragtag and rough like this. Only because he's watching does he notice your pick slipping between strings to the floor, and your willingness to strum with the sides of your fingertips. He likes that. The dedication is hot.

"I've never seen a girl on drums who didn't look like a guy," Gareth says. "She's killer. Think I can get her number?"

Eddie groans. "No, you fucking loser."

"I was just asking."

You bounce around and Eddie shifts in his seat, annoyed that he'd assumed you were the one Gareth was talking about.

He claps for you when the song is over and hates how you return to your seat during the break, back in your cute dress and beaming, practically dripping in deodorant and post-show adrenaline.

You apologise again as you step over him, and if there's one thing he doesn't want from you it's a sorry. Twice now you've spoken to him in the last week and twice you've made fun of him like some plaything under your thumb. Eddie isn't in the habit of being under anyone's anything. Apologies feel like salt in the wound, even though he knows you aren't saying sorry for the stuff that's pissing him off.

"What the fuck was that?" Lead girl asks you, sounding about as uptight as she looks as she climbs over your leg. "What were you doing?"

"Morgan, I don't know if you noticed, but you didn't play half of the song," you say defensively, the skirt of your gem-encrusted dress glancing off of his thigh. The gems are tiny, like pinprick stars in country night skies. They shine purple, green, orange.

Morgan holds her hand up for an attendant. When one approaches, she says, "Appletini," and nothing else, waving dismissively. She pulls at her stockings and doesn't notice the ladder she makes near the calf. "You're here to play what you're given."

"I did."

"And only that."

Your silence speaks volumes. What he'd thought to be an edge in Godless' sound may have been an improvisation, something Eddie personally applauds.

"Christ," Morgan says, "you're more trouble than you're worth. I hope you know that."

Eddie believes the sting of her barb to be in the presentation rather than the words themselves, though what she'd said is hardly kind. She looks away from you as she says it, like she's giving instruction far below her station. Factual, concise.

You barely wince. The lights dim, and he watches you contend with how you're feeling from the corner of his eye.

Eddie isn't evil. You may have gotten off on the wrong foot, and he's definitely holding his resentment at being forgotten tight to his chest, but nobody deserves to get shit on like that. You'd played well, you'd had a great time, and that should be commended. What's worse, your lack of a reaction tells him this is a common occurrence.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you say.

Morgan waves you away like she had the waitress. You stand, and you say, "Excuse me," to every person you pass. Eddie put his hand on the back of his chair to follow you up toward the back of the room where the sign for the bathrooms glows green.

He sets his eyes back on the stage and begs himself to stay sitting. Corroded Coffin's nomination for best up and comer has already passed, a loss, and there's no reason he can't nip to the bathroom himself. There's also no reason he should go after you.

Fuck it, he thinks.

What could go wrong? What could go wrong, outside of the women's bathroom, where he has so obviously followed you, where he waits for you like some creeper trying to paw one off on you. He can't hear anything but the running tap. For a moment he thinks you haven't come here to collect yourself after all, you'd needed to pee, which makes his situation that much awkwarder.

Stuck between indecision, he leans against the wall between the women's and men's and digs for a cigarette. His pockets are empty, a precaution for exactly this moment. You can't smoke in the Prover Theatre, pissant.

You appear and blitz past him.

"Hey," he says before you can go too far, "d'you have a card?"

You turn on your heel. Hands already in your purse, you dig out an unopened box of cigarettes and offer it to him. You don't look as though you've been crying or anything like it, but you don't look him head on, so he keeps his theory.

Eddie peels the plastic off of your box and slaps the end against his chest for good measure.

"I don't think you can smoke in here," you say finally. Your voice is tired.

He raises his eyebrows and peers down into the box, pulling a cigarette free and sliding it between his lips. He holds out his hand for a lighter and you give it to him, already waiting with it between two fingers.

He lights it, inhales sharply, and passes you back your carton and lighter with a clouded, "Thanks."

"Yeah."

He's surprised when you don't move. You stand there and watch him smoke, whorls of pearly smoke dissecting the air between you, spider-webs over your pert face. You're waiting for what he doesn't know, so he'll give you something. He's nice.

"She's a piece of work."

You shift uneasily.

"I'm not the feds," he says, pulling the cig from his lips to talk unfettered.

"Forgive me for wondering if you have my best interests at heart."

He beams at you, really smiles, startled and enamoured by your sharp tongue. "Now why wouldn't I?"

You don't say anything, only pull at the neckline of your dress in what's likely a nervous habit. He gets a flash of the top of your chest and looks away. He thinks you're beautiful in a rather understated way, and he doesn't not want to see what it is you're showing, but he knows you don't actually mean to be so forward. He might be an asshole, but he's not like that.

It's quiet here in the foyer, like standing outside the doors of the movie theatre. You can hear the announcement of a new category, the roaring applause. The hallway and the bathrooms feel cordoned off from it in a strange way, an uncanny energy that has him on internal tenterhooks.

"You always let her treat you like that?"

"Like what?"

He steps toward you because the distance feels unnecessary. "Like that. Like you're a dog."

"Fuck you, I do not."

He pouts, the taste of smoke thick on his tongue.

"What would you know?" you ask.

"Besides hearing it all fucking night, nothing. You must like that shit."

Your eyes go wide. He hadn't meant to say it. There's a light behind them now, some life, something to cover up that shitty wounded despondency you'd been wearing. Your hands bunch in the soft skirt of your dress, shaking. He's touched a nerve.

"I must like it," you quote, strained.

"Woof. Do you do any tricks, or is it just the one?"

He doesn't mean for it to happen this way, he wants it on the record. He's a dick, he's a loser, whatever, he hadn't meant to argue but he will. And, you know, there may be a slight possibility that he isn't as sure in himself as he appears, and that there are nerves he keeps too close to the surface, too.

"You can teach me one of yours, if you want," you offer, voice tight with annoyance, "I'm thinking smug asshole picks easy target, but I'm open to other options."

That's funny. He takes another step toward you, another, your cigarette between his lips smouldering at the tip as he inhales through his smirk.

"Yeah, like what?" he asks, smoke licking your cheeks as he breathes out.

"How you get your head through the door might be a good place to start."

He waits for you to explain, knowing the silence will force you to fill it.

"You know, considering you're in the exact same place as me, only one of us performed tonight and it isn't the one acting like God's gift."

"You think they invited you to play because you're good?" he asks, feigning an earnest tone.

"I know exactly why they didn't ask you." You hike the strap of your purse higher up your shoulder, chin lifted in a snooty superiority that makes his heart pound. "Wannabe rookie who had too much smoke blown up his ass and thinks he's somebody. But you're not," you say. "You're a child. They've seen a hundred guys just like you in the Indiana circuit."

"You're a jumped up fucking groupie that got lucky," he says.

The light behind your eyes dims. He takes that last step, the step that's gonna put you shoe to shoe.

He should stop now, he would, but suddenly his anger is real, this isn't strictly fun anymore. He says what he knows is gonna hurt you.

"You're a stand-in, a temp who's already overstayed her welcome." He flicks the tower of ash between your heels. You follow it down, watch as it settles into the fibres of the carpeting. "You're a burnout waiting to happen."

Your breathing is loud in his ears. Slightly too fast.

"You don't know anything," you murmur.

"If it barks like a dog, and it heels like a dog," he says, pausing, words coming out thick and slow, "it's a dog."

Your face flares with hurt. You're gone before he can say anything else.

He's glad for it. Honestly, he's not sure what else he would've said, and later, he'll regret this, regret blowing up at you, regret following you out here and making you feel worse when he'd wanted the opposite. But tonight he's lit up from the inside out, your words a reverberation. A hundred guys just like you.

"Yeah, right," he says to himself, scoffing with a surety he doesn't feel.

—

Donington Park, England, August 1990

"I'd be a little more excited if I knew they weren't desperate this year," Jamison's saying, "that's all."

"They're hardly desperate."

"Last time they had KISS, Iron Maiden, Megadeth." Jamison sighs and falls back into the couch, muttering about the stale smell before continuing, "and this year, what do they have? Poison? Thunder? Who cares."

Eddie thinks he might actually have an opponent for biggest ego right now.

"You know they put Godless bigger on the poster," Jeff says with a bright smile.

"Can we not talk about them for one fucking day?" Eddie pleads.

He's a little disappointed at the lineup too, but that doesn't make this entire festival a bust. Monster of Rock may not be the most prestigious event they've ever attended but it's still impressive to be asked to play here, and this is only Corroded Coffin's third festival. Eddie's a smug bastard and even he knows Jamison sounds like a bitch. Besides that, he's so, so tired of talking about Godless.

"They finally stopped stringing that poor girl along. What was her name?" Jeff asks, clicking his fingers. "Eddie, you know, the one who said she didn't know you in the magazines?"

"What?" Eddie asked. "They cut her?"

Jamison sits up, eyes lit with mirth. "What's it matter to you, heartthrob?"

"It doesn't."

He's not being truthful. His bandmates are all unkind, and none extend the generosity of pretending they believe him.

"Nah, she's not cut, she's official. Writing credits on the new album and everything, 'cordin to Rolling Stone."

"You have it?" Eddie asks.

Jeff laughs at him but digs it out of his suitcase, brandishing it all rolled up.

"Shit better not be sticky," Eddie mutters under his breath.

"... Skip the interview with Kim Gordon."

Eddie gags and flicks through the pages until he finds the article on you, or rather the column.

"All female rock band Godless finally welcomed a new bass player this month after the departure of Millyanna Richardson in '89. Y/N L/N, 24, had been with the band for almost a year under a 'touring only' basis, though she performed live with remaining members Morgan Fletcher and Ananya Roy at the Prover Music Awards in early June. Fans have praised her talent and finesse, and are looking forward to her contributions to the band's next album expected this December. Hopefully she has thicker skin than her predecessor, who branded the band's inner politics as 'gruesome' and 'unlivable'."

There's a grainy photograph of you and your bandmates at the Prover Theatre overtop. You look exactly as you had that night, pretty and glitzy. He scowls at your printed face.

He can't fucking stand you, let it be known, and he thinks your frontman is the most spoilt brat he's ever seen. He hadn't seen the article, but he'd heard via word of mouth that you'd both had something to say about him. His approximation goes as follows:

Interviewer: …and you guys will be performing at the Monster of Rock music festival in England this August, right? Any faces you're excited to see?

Morgan: I think I'm better than everyone despite being in a mildly popular band that didn't qualify as hard rock until, like, three months ago, and I totally shit on our bass player for trying to make the change by the way, so I'm not excited to see anyone besides myself in the mirror.

Interviewer: How sophisticated and mature of you. And you, Y/N, are you excited to see anyone? Photos from the Prover Music Awards show you were sitting beside Corroded Coffin's Eddie Munson, did you two hit it off?

Y/N: Who was that, the guitarist? I'm so sorry, I don't really remember getting a chance to talk to him, but I'm excited for the opportunity to meet more people in the scene right now and to get to play for a new audience. Also I suck and I want Eddie sooooo bad.

"I wish I were asleep." Gareth squints at the ceiling. "Asleep or back home."

"Miss mommy?" Jamison asks him.

"And Cindy."

"Oh, god," Eddie groans, "I don't want to hear it, seriously."

"She always had smooth legs, you know?" Gareth says. "Always shiny, soft. Fuck, I miss her legs. Girls on the road never shave their legs."

"Do you shave your legs?" Eddie asks.

"Fuck off, Teddy, you know you like it better when they shave."

"Do I know that?" Eddie asks.

He turns to Jamison, giving him a much-used 'make him stop' expression. Eyebrows raised, lips parted. When Jamison says nothing, and Gareth starts to talk about hair removal in other places, Eddie scrubs his eyes with both hands and stands up.

He's a guy. He has guy thoughts. Yeah, he thinks about girls, and their legs, and everything else, but he also thinks about them as actual people, something Gareth hasn't quite grasped yet.

"Remember why Cindy said she didn't wanna come with you?" Eddie asks.

"Because she was jealous of my success."

Eddie snorts and shrugs on his jacket where he'd left it thrown over the ratty couch. "Because she was going to beauty school," Eddie corrects. "I'm going out."

"We're miles away from anything interesting," Jeff says, magazine crinkling in his hands.

"I'm sure I'll find something," he says, and doesn't add that it should be easy.

What counts as interesting has taken a sharp turn since arriving in Donington. Which isn't to say it's boring, exactly, there's a rich culture Eddie isn't familiar with, and a fucking castle, but he's so used to loud dives and backroom parties that this has been a stark change. Wending had said to think of it like a vacation to get his head screwed on tight. Paula had said to think of it like a punishment, which had been funny at the time. Now he's wondering if she was serious.

He knows there'd been a convenience store somewhere down the road from the hotel. Or rather, the bed and breakfast, a strange cottage situation where the hosts keep an eye on you under the guise of making your dinner. Eddie's first world problems continue.

He could get weed, possibly. He doesn't know where from, but he knows someone who knows someone who must know someone, right?

Then he starts debating with himself about if he should smoke just to escape boredom. That sounds like a terrible idea, life isn't even bad right now, he's just hungry, and—

Eddie turns the corner, wet sidewalk dark as pitch under his feet, and spots the back of your head as you disappear inside of the convenience store. The corner shop, as Wending had informed. Eddie doesn't understand because it isn't on a corner, but he has bigger fish to fry. He considers waiting for you to leave. What are the chances you'll walk back this way? Pretty likely.

Don't be a bitch, he tells himself.

Light rain spots his neck as he hurries inside, the bell above the door ringing to announce his entrance. He's confused as soon as he looks up, because in front of him is an aisle, and to either side is an aisle, and he can't make out where the cashier is. He takes a tentative step in, eyes tracking muddy footprints down the way to the drinks fridge humming loudly at the back of the room.

Claustrophobic, he makes his way through the aisle and stops in front of the drinks. Because luck isn't ever his friend, you're standing toward the leftmost part, where a second fridge hums, filled to bursting with canned beer and litre bottles of cider. Eddie isn't sure it's really you until you turn to the left slightly and reach out for a colourful glass bottle. He should walk away. He doesn't like you, he has no business watching you, but there's something so sweet about it.

You in the humming chill, a coat pulled tightly around you, your chin hidden by the multicolour of a yarn scarf. You turn the bottle in your hand delicately and blink slow as you read the ingredients. Your hair is frizzy from the wind, flyaways surrounding your face in a little wave. His fingers twitch.

You keep the bottle and pick up a second, nails clinking against glass. Your movement pulls like you're moving through jello, and Eddie turns to the fridge in front of him hurriedly.

He can feel your gaze on the side of his face.

He picks up a couple of drinks without thinking, his face burning with heat. When he chances a glance your way, you've moved. He stares at the rainbow of drinks and the gaps where you've taken what you wanted.

He leaves some time between your departure and follows the way you must've gone down an aisle of more alcohol that's unrefrigerated and pet food, wondering how they organise here, and is confronted with you again at the end.

It's a snug building. You're blocking the way past where you're standing in front of the cashier's desk, a plexiglass shielded cube decked out in hanging sweets and cigarettes.

"Do you have Newports?" you ask mildly.

"Sorry."

"That's okay, uh, I'll just take a carton of whatever you think is best?"

The cashier retrieves a light blue box of cigarettes. "Lambert and Butler blues," he says. "Total, sixteen fifty six, and I'll need to see some ID."

You pull your passport from an already opened purse and offer it to him. While the cashier's checking it over, you peek at Eddie, and you don't smile but you don't not smile, a formal quirk of the lips.

"You're American?" the cashier asks.

"I'm visiting for the festival," you say.

Apparently having passed his test, the cashier hands your passport back and accepts your card.

"Are you paying together?" he asks, nodding at Eddie.

Eddie grins unconsciously, worse when you say quickly, "Oh, no, we're not together."

"Your brevity wounds me," Eddie says.

You snort with a similar geniality. "You don't need me to pay for you, do you? I heard you're rich now."

There has been an improvement in Eddie's finances lately. Your album breaking into the Billboard top 100 does that.

"I thought you didn't know who I was?"

"I thought that was kinder than what I really would've said."

He hates how your snark makes him smile. You're not looking at him, waiting for your change with your eyes forward as the cashier clicks a couple of buttons on the till.

"What were you really gonna say?"

The cashier hands over your change. You slip it into your purse, put your purse in the pocket of your coat, and slide your hand through the weak blue handles of your plastic bag.

"Thank you," you say sincerely. You take a step like you're going to leave, but you pause, and you look Eddie in the eye and say, "I would've said you were mean."

His jaw drops. You look hurt, and you leave with a discomforting frown.

He puts the drinks he's carrying down on the cashier's desk and says, "I'll be right back," before following you out.

You've pulled your hood up to defend against the thickening rain, walking with your face angled down. Eddie beats along the wet pathway.

"Hey! Hey, wait, wait a second, princess."

"You can't be serious."

"I'm so serious," he says.

He weaves in front of you and stops. You look cold as he feels with his red-tipped nose and stiff fingers, your arms drawn together over your chest. You look pretty and he's so sick of thinking it and not saying it.

"You're hot when you're mad."

You glare at him. "I wish I could say the same."

"Hey, hey, okay, we had a spat, but we got off on the wrong foot, you know?"

"I thought that too," you say.

He smiles. "See, we're– you're fucking with me. Nice."

You start laughing, edging around him. He moves in front and you shrug, stepping off of the sidewalk and into the leaf litter clogging the gutter.

"Don't be stupid," he says, hands held up in surrender "get back on the sidewalk." You keep walking. "Come on, don't get hit by a car. That would really put a damper on the festival."

You take a step further into the road, the kind that would make a collision unavoidable. He checks both ways for cars and sees none, knowing you're fucking with him and hating it anyway. The two of you are locked into a stand off, grey skies above you and wet ground underneath, your face partially occluded by your scarf and your hood and the dribbling rain. If he listens, he can hear the small sounds of the festival preparations a half a mile away, guitars hooked up up an insane array of speakers and the pounding of a beat through the floor.

You start walking again. He follows, treading backwards to keep your attention.

"Seriously, come on."

"No."

"No?" he asks.

"No. I don't have to listen to you."

"You're being stupid."

"Eddie, I truly, honestly, don't care."

"Sure." The sound of tires on the road draws his eye. A car appears behind you, approaching fast. "It's your funeral."

"What do you get out of this?"

He bites his top lip, shaking his head from one side to the other. "Out of what?"

"Tormenting me."

"Tormenting you? Sweetheart, we hardly know each other."

"Exactly!" You almost trip over your own shoes. "Exactly, you don't know me, but you thought you could say all those things–"

"You started it."

You laugh again and Eddie would be pissed but the car is still coming, headlights beaming through the light downpour. He huffs and grabs your wrist, tugging you up onto the sidewalk with his second hand on your waist. He doesn't mean to rag you about, feeling especially apologetic when your face knocks into his chin. The car spins close and validates his concern. You have enough sense to realise what's happened, watching over your shoulder as the car beeps and whizzes past. Still, you yank your arm out of his.

"Don't touch me," you say quietly.

He dips his head to force you to meet his eyes. "Next time I'll let you get hit by a car. Great idea."

"I wasn't going to get hit by the fucking car."

You're infuriating.

Infuriating, and yet he feels bad for pulling you around. He lowers his voice, softens his tone. "Sorry," he says. "I don't know why this happens, everytime I see you, I…"

You look intensely uncomfortable. "I have one of those faces, I guess." You shrug away from his reach. "Try to play well tomorrow? I don't want to go on to a dead crowd."

His mouth snaps closed. "If you need me to warm them up for you, just say that."

—

You go to watch Eddie's set because you're awful. You want it to suck. You want Corroded Coffin to bomb it and you want it to be his fault, anything to wipe that pretty smile off of his face, smother the electricity of his bouncing steps as he bounds from one side of the stage to the other. He's entranced by the crowd — it's hard not to be. Ananya had told you on the plane that UK festival audiences are a different kind of enthusiastic, eager and loud, and it's obvious now that she was right, and that Corroded Coffin had more than a few loyalists in the sea of people.

The barrier bends under the force of it, thousands of warm bodies throwing themselves against one another despite the terrible weather, mud to the shins and sliding. You've never seen so many people happy to be covered in dirt.

Neither Morgan nor Ananya had wanted to join you so you stick to the shadows with your lanyard pass. You refuse to think about why you've dressed the way you have, a black, stiff corset type top to cinch your chest, exposing the soft hills of your breasts, and the flare pants Morgan had insisted make your thighs acceptable. You're bedecked in pretty jewellery and your hair looks perfect, and it's all for your show, you swear, all for your set straight after his.

Eddie's dripping with sweat and rain at this point, darker curls wet and slick and sweet around his face. His brows are furrowed like he's in pain, and his thumb has split on the strings, blood like cherry juice running down the body of his guitar, a Warlock NJ Series electric with a red and black tortoise shell design. It shines like mother-of-pearl.

You're impressed by him, and worse, there's a heat stirring in your abdomen you despise. He's attractive, you've always thought him pretty, but on stage he's something else entirely. The passion transforms him, makes him a different person. No trace of agitating smugness about him.

And he's good. You're not a critic, an expert, and your opinion hardly matters, but if he's this good now you'd love to see him at Hammet's age, at Hanneman's. He could be one of the greats.

You're riddled with jealousy. Bass and rhythm guitar are not the same, and they're comparable in some ways, incomparable in others, but you know you're not like he is. You want to be the next Entwistle, the next Ian Hill, but practising You've Got Another Thing Comin' until your fingers bleed is never going to give you what Eddie plainly has.

You hide your bandaid covered fingers in your back pockets and shake your head. You can pinpoint the moment Eddie notices you on the side stage despite the small audience they've attained. His neck snaps to the side, and his eyes bore into yours for a split-second.

You could pretend you aren't here. If he ever calls you out on it, you could lie. You want me so bad you're seeing me places, Munson.

You don't do that.

You wave.

You've never been the prettiest girl. You know you aren't model material, people aren't shy about letting you know that, and so, you're practised in the art of quiet flirtation. Your wrist straight, you wiggle your fingers sweetly, a face of fresh make up and your sweetest smile, like he's a guy across the bar and you're trying to get a ride in his passenger seat.

For a split-second you adore him. It's the meanest thing you can do.

You aren't expecting him to fuck up. His hand slips down the neck and that's it, one missed second of sound. He throws himself back into it and doesn't look your way again, a storm of emotions clouding his handsome face.

Not what you'd meant to do, and yet. There's a cruel satisfaction in knowing you'd had any sort of power over him.

There's a ten minute gap between sets, twenty because of the shitty weather. Morgan and Ananya are nowhere to be seen as Corroded Coffin pour off of the stage and down the short stairwell where you're waiting, picking at your clear nail polish absentminded. You don't look up, and the resulting quiet makes you think they've all left.

A wooden board creaks.

You look up.

"Hey, you–"

Eddie takes your shoulder into his warm, big hand and pushes you back. You wobble and rush to correct your posture, hand clamping around the crook of his elbow. Even though he's soaked through, wet to the skin, his hand is a blistering heat.

Your shoulders collide with the wall under the stairwell. It's a snug fit, dark and out of view.

"What gives?" you seethe, pushing at his chest.

"You fucking–" Eddie tucks a lock of wet hair behind his ear, and his hand stays at that height, hovering between you. "What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?"

"You want to mess with me, is that it?"

His hand takes to your face, index finger following the line of your cheek, his thumb along your jaw. He isn't kind. He isn't cruel. He's touching you, just touching you, and your mouth is bone dry at the sensation, the stuttering beat of your heart.

"I don't want to do anything to you, Munson."

"We both know that's not true." You've never heard his voice like this. It's scratchy– pleading. It's a desperation.

He's breathing hard. Your proximity means you feel each one as it comes, heat fanning over your lips. You look to his, find them parted, the barest hint of pearly teeth between pink dewy skin. They look soft.

You lift your chin.

I dare you.

His hand slides down. He presses his thumb into your bottom lip and inclines his head. You close your eyes, fine stands of his hair drawing lines of wetness against your face as he boxes you in.

"Are you going to–"

"Shut up," he says, crushing his lips to yours.

It his nose you feel more than anything, the force of it as he moves in, bridge sliding down your own. His hands, and how they tighten, fisted in the slope of your shoulder and clutching at the underside of your jaw like you might slip away. His touch brings you in, his hips force you back, wedging your spine tight to the panelled wall behind you.

You let him kiss you, let his lips work over yours, let him take what it is he wants. Your fingers slide softly up the chilled leather of his jacket, coveting the wet mess of his hair. You weave your fingers into it, their tips pressed to his roots, and pull him away.

You steal the gap between you and try to take control. You don't know how to kiss like he is, you don't know where all that meanness comes from. You force his hand from your face and nip at his bottom lip, imprecise, stammering pecks that reveal too much.

Eddie inhales hard, pulls the breath from your mouth.

"Don't play games," he says.

He presses a firm, hard kiss all lopsided into your lips and pulls away, yanking your hand from his hair and setting it against the line of his waist.

"You like games," you argue.

He tilts your head to one side a millimetre at a time, tilting his own to follow you. A teasing light burns behind his eyes, a playful flare of his lashes that worries and excites at once.

His thumb haunts the column of your throat, pressing, releasing, pressing again. Never enough to hurt.

"Stay still."

You stay still. You aren't expecting him to weave the other way, the hot and unapologetic scratch of his teeth against your pulse. You laugh at the feeling, find it gets all clogged up when he starts to bite. The hand that isn't anchoring your head roams down your shoulder, your back, falling into the small of it as though it were made to be there. His fingers spread and pull and your pelvis pushes hard into his own.

"Is that a–" You cough on your murmuring, chastened by his thumb outside your windpipe. "S'that a micronta quartz in your pocket, or are you just," —you hiss as his hickeying turns brutal, hand pawing ar his waist uselessly— "happy– Happy to see me?"

Your shuddering makes him smile. He lets your bruised skin slip from between his lips only to scandalise you further, kissing and nipping, licking a humiliating stretch until he's under your ear, speaking into it.

"I'm never happy to see you," he murmurs, hand turned, the back of his index knuckle stroking a tender back and forth. His forehead kisses your temple. "You should know that by now."

A picture of composure but you know what you feel. You roll your hips to revel in his subtle groan.

"You want me to mark up the other side?" he asks.

His question sounds so genuine, you almost say yes. He laughs at your silence and kisses wherever he can reach, crescent moons, spit-damp and branding.

He pauses to speak into the corner of your mouth. "Mess me up again during a set and I won't be this nice."

"You're not nice," you say, lashes skimming the skin under your brows as he stands at full height, widening the gap between you to a safe distance again.

"Exactly…" Eddie squeezes your cheek until it aches. His eyes are unreadable. "Have a good set, sweetheart."

Unreadable turns smug. He pats your panging cheek, gaze dancing over the sore stretch of your neck, and turns without a second glance.

You press the heel of your palm to the cold wall behind you and blink. Once. Twice. In that moment you hate him more than you've ever hated him, hate him like you've never hated anyone, because his retreating figure is unaffected, and you're dizzy with the lingering press of his lips.

You have to hand it to him. He's good at the game.

You'll have to be better.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

I wrote the bulk of this really quickly so please forgive any major errors I missed during editing, I’ll go back again in future and make more corrections! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and if you did please consider reblogging or telling me what you thought, I promise it makes a big difference <3 I was super nervous about this one and I still am lol

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2chopsticks2eyes · 1 year

Text

Dance For Us

2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist

Pairing:

Lee Minho/Lee Know x Fem Reader

Lee Yongbok/Lee Felix x Fem Reader

Hwang Hyunjin x Fem Reader

Lee Yongbok/Lee Felix x Hwang Hyunjin

Themes: Smut… Just a lot of smut

Word Count: ~17k | AO3

Warnings: Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Alcohol, Cussing, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Implied Coercion

Summary: DanceRACHA sees you dancing to ‘Taste’ before their concert and they want a private show. Up close and personal.

Author's Note: This work was inspired by a request from @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna. It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything so I hope this spicy fic makes up for it.

__________________________________________

It's kind of strange, isn’t it? How anyone, literally anyone could be watching you when you’re in a public setting? Especially when there are hundreds of people surrounding the same area. Creepy almost…

But it doesn’t really help when there’s a circle of people dancing while waiting outside the stadium for the Stray Kids concert to start. You had never realized how supportive other Stays could be of each other and, although you were uncomfortable around a bunch of strangers with no one accompanying you, the others really welcomed you with open arms.

You were surprised with the amount of Stays that had learned the choreography of their idol’s songs and impressed by the quality of it. You were somewhat shy to admit it, but you weren’t a stranger to some of the dances yourself. In fact, there were a number of songs that you were pretty confident you had down to a T.

You couldn’t help it that Stray Kids songs made you want to move your body subconsciously. “Why don’t you get out there? You definitely seem like you want to dance!” You were startled by the guy next to you whom you had befriended while watching everyone. Apparently, you had been slightly dancing to the songs you knew the choreography to and a massive blush spread across your cheeks.

“Oh no no no. I could never…” You chuckled shyly and the guy smirked at you.

“You know that no one is going to judge you here? And if they do, then fuck them anyway.” You looked down and fidgeted with your fingers. You felt a warm hand gently pat your shoulder. “And you know that I will definitely cheer you on!”

You smiled up at him and then fear crossed your face when someone requested ‘Taste’. Fuck. He smiled brightly at you and nudged you to the center of the circle.

“You got this! Fighting!”

You kept your head down the whole way to stand with a few others that were eager to dance and you tried to focus just on the music as the opening notes rang out.

You had only learned the choreography of all of the songs you memorized of your ultimate bias. Lee Know.

You could never match the amount of precision and finesse that it took to do his part, but it wouldn’t be much easier learning the other’s parts either. Felix with his powerful moves and flexibility that have jaws dropping. Hyunjin with his intensity and how he flows like water in between moves. It was hopeless no matter what, but you always tried your best.

Your nerves were whisked away into the wind once Lee Know’s part started and you trusted your body to move on its own. It seemed like it took you forever to figure out how to look sexy enough to do those moves while you were learning. You didn’t really feel sexy, but now you knew your body well enough to trust it to move how you wanted it to.

The song whisked you away and you didn’t even think twice about all the eyes watching you and the few other Stays that moved in sync along with you. When the song ended and you were gasping for air with sweat dripping down your neck, you heard a loud applause and you crashed back down to reality.

Your face was blazing red as you shakily bowed your head and you sprinted back to your newfound friend. “Holy shit that was amazing! Why in the world would you want to hold that back?!” He shouted over the masses of cheers.

You just looked down and covered your face, proud that people liked your performance, but embarrassed that people saw you doing something so provocative. “I… I guess I just don't like being watched…” You meekly smiled up at him and he smiled back.

“Well I hate to break it to you, but you’re too pretty for people not to watch.” He cocked a smirk at you and you blushed with a smile as you turned your attention back to the festivities.

- - - - - - - - - -

By the end of the concert, you were sweaty, tired, and out of breath, but you never wanted it to end.

You had managed to grab a ticket right next to the stage and it was so fucking surreal to see your idols so close. You felt like you were hallucinating any time they made eye contact with you and you were sure you had the most idiotic expression of ‘starstruck fangirl’ planted on your face.

The most eye contact, though, was made by the bright smile of Lee Felix. It legitimately felt like you were being basked in sunlight any time he looked at you and you had to keep reminding yourself to keep it together, woman. You weren’t as loud or as attention-hungry as the Stays around you so you had not a single goddamned clue why his eyes kept drifting back to yours.

When they showed a surprise performance of ‘Taste’ you were done for.

Every two seconds, one of the three dancers would make eye contact with you during the set. You basked in the warmth that was Felix’s wide-eyed gaze, felt your body set ablaze when Hyunjin looked at you with the constant sex eyes he donned while performing, and then you were absolutely chilled to the bone when Lee Know looked down at you like a predator analyzing you.

Needless to say, you were concerned for your health.

During the final ment, your eyes were glued to the astounding god-like beauty of Lee Know and his piercing stare seemed to seek out your own gaze as well. Your body was hot all over and when he looked at you, you had the involuntary reaction to look away. It was as if your body was trying to preserve itself by forcing away the eye contact that made your heart beat out of your chest.

You were surely just imagining things. Seeing what your brain wanted you to see. It would all be over soon anyway and it wouldn’t matter anymore.

Except it did matter.

The concert had ended and you really didn’t want to fight all of the Stays that were filing out of the stadium and then lose your mind with the resulting traffic, so you took it slow and hung back. You sat back down in your seat and decided to scroll through your phone as the masses died down and you were surprised that people had already posted photos and videos of that night.

You smiled at the funny and amazing moments that Stay had captured and you even saw some videos of the activities before the show. As you were scrolling, your thumb froze as you came across a video with ‘Taste’ chiming in the background.

No.

Oh no.

Fuckfuckfuck. There you were. Your vulnerability on full display for the world to see.

NO!

You just sat there with your mouth opening and closing like a damned fish and you practically jumped out of your skin when you heard someone clear their throat in front of you, your phone clattering to the ground as you looked up at the huge, buff, and tall security guard. You must have lost track of time on your phone because when you looked around, the stadium was practically empty.

“O-oh god! I’m so sorry!” You quickly stood up after picking up your phone and collected your things. “I’ll leave right away! Sorry!” You were about to make a move to leave but he stopped you with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You turned around and probably looked like a frightened bunny as you looked up at the man. However, the warm smile he offered immediately eased your worries. “Actually, ma’am. My name is Tyrone. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to come with me.”

All traces of color drained from your face in dread of what you could have possibly done. Had you bumped into the wrong person? Were you too scantily dressed? Were you deemed a threat because you stayed too long? “W-w-wha–?!”

“It will be explained soon, I assure you.” His smile was still warm when he cut off your potential of flurrying questions and he stepped to your side with a gentle touch to your upper back to urge you forward to follow him. For a man that looks like he could kill you in his sleep, he sure is gentle.

You followed him through corridor after corridor and your anxiety only swelled further the longer it took and the deeper you ventured into the bowels of the venue. Just as you were about to question exactly where he was taking you, he stopped in front of a non-descript door. Your curiosity started overtaking your fear as he knocked a couple of times and then slowly opened the door, stepping inside and holding it open for you. You briefly gave him a perplexed look and then stepped inside.

It was just an average lounge room. Completely void of any sign of life and you turned around to see the man still standing at the open door. “Um, can I ask what I did, sir?”

For some reason, he nervously chuckled and it threw you for a loop. “Uhh, heh, well to be honest, I don’t really know. I was just told by the higher-ups to bring you here so they could talk to you. I’m not sure what it’s about, I just do what I’m told. Sorry, little lady.” He shrugged and your shoulders fell in defeat. He pointed to the hallway as he put his hand on the doorknob. “I’ll be right outside if you need me, okay? Make yourself comfortable and someone should be with you soon.”

You shyly nodded your head and he flashed that same warm smile before he turned to go back out.

However, right before he exited, he turned his head back. “Oh yeah! I was supposed to ask what year you were born!” Why the fuck did he need to know that? You looked perplexed but you answered nonetheless. He quickly thanked you as he exited and shut the door behind him. How the fuck were you supposed to make yourself comfortable when you were just basically kidnapped?! I mean, you obviously didn’t feel threatened, but that didn’t mean your anxiety wasn’t skyrocketing!

It felt like you were waiting for ages, pacing back and forth across the windowless room as you kept staring at the door.

After about thirty minutes, you heard a tiny knock at the door and you froze in your overly-frantic tracks. You waited a second and then the door hesitantly opened as a blonde-haired head popped in from around the door.

Oh my god.

OH MY GOD NO FUCKING WAY.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t blink. You couldn’t even conjure a single coherent thought in your head as LEE FUCKING FELIX just waltzed into the room like your whole fucking world didn’t just change at the sight of him.

The door quietly shut behind him as he walked toward you with a blinding smile. “Hi there! I’m Felix!” DID HE JUST FUCKING INTRODUCE HIMSELF?!?! OF COURSE HE IS FELIX!!! THERE’S NOT A SINGLE GODDAMNED SOUL WHO DOESN’T KNOW WHO HE IS!!! HOW DOES AN AUSTRALIAN ACCENT SOUND EVEN MORE BEAUTIFUL WHEN IT’S COMING FROM HIS MOUTH?!?!

He stood there with his hand outstretched for a handshake and your face was surely still in shock as you blindly reached out for it while you were memorizing every little feature on his angelic face. You were broken out of your trance once his skin touched yours and you looked down at where his hand gently held your own.

He squeezed it gently and you involuntarily let out a shaky chuckle. “Hm?” You looked up to see him tilting his head in question. Whether it was wondering your name or why you giggled, you didn’t know, but you decided to answer the latter first.

You chuckled again. “I… I’m sorry. I guess it’s just funny that you introduced yourself…” His face softened from his puzzled expression and he chuckled softly as well.

“Heh, I guess you’re right. I guess you already know my name, huh?” You giggled and nodded your head. He squeezed your hand once more but still didn’t make any move to release it. “However, I haven’t had the pleasure of getting your name…”

You quickly shook yourself out of your mystified trance and your eyes widened. “Oh! Oh my god, I’m being so rude, I’m sorry!” You frantically introduced yourself and squeezed his hand back, shaking it and bowing your head in greeting.

He chuckled at your panicking and placed his other hand on top of the one already in his grasp, you shut up real quick as you looked at his blinding smile that emitted a beautiful, melodic laugh. “You’re not being rude at all! That is a very beautiful name. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

You nervously chuckled and looked at his hands that encapsulated your own. “I-it’s nice to meet you too…” You shyly smiled and blushed, unable to make eye contact as you bore your eyes into his adorable hands. He surely must be feeling your sweaty palm, why isn’t he pulling away?

“You must be wondering why you’re here, am I right, noona? I can call you noona, yes? You’re a ‘97 girl, right?” Your eyes shot up to meet his own as you tentatively nodded your head. He must have asked Tyrone… He smirked as he finally pulled his hands away. Your hand shot to your clothes to wipe the sweat off your hands and ensure everything looked good. You silently watched as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

As he did so, you only just then realized that he had changed out of his stage clothes and into a comfy-looking t-shirt and shorts. His hair and makeup were still done up, but he definitely looked at least a little bit more comfortable, and you were grateful for it.

You were knocked out of your trance when Felix held his phone out in front of you. Your stomach dropped out of your ass at the mortifying content on his screen. That same fucking video you saw not even an hour ago was displayed right in front of your humiliated face. “This is you, right?”

Your eyes snapped up to him and your whole face lit on fire as you buried your face into your palms. “Oh god!” You whined pitifully.

You felt a gentle hand on your shoulder and you peered at him through your fingers. “What’s wrong???” He sounded alarmed. “I thought it was amazing!” Your eyes blew wide as your hands slowly dropped from your face.

“Wha-what?” You’re sure you sounded braindead from the disbelief in your tone.

He cocked his eyebrow like it was the most obvious thing in existence. Then his face softened when he deciphered your confusion. “Okay, let me correct that statement. We thought it was amazing.”

“WE?! Who’s we?!” Your shyness was overcome by your bewilderment as you practically yelled the words.

He laughed heartily and, again, you were mesmerized at the sight of him. He looked at you endearingly. “Our dance line of course! Minho-hyung, Hyunjinnie, and I recognize talent when we see it. We were surprised to see you right up front during the concert and it was just plain dumb luck that you happened to still be there when we asked for someone to go look for you.”

OKAY, HOLD THE FUCK UP.

There were so many questions running through your head it almost made you dizzy. First off, how in the world could these trained professionals think you were any type of talented? Next, you realized that you weren’t just imagining things when you caught the three of them looking at you during the concert. And lastly… THEY SPECIFICALLY ASKED SOMEONE TO COME AND TAKE YOU TO MEET THEM?!?!

This was unreal. How were you not dreaming right now? Or passed the fuck out?

He must have sensed your internal mental breakdown because he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that we kind of just forced this on you, but Hyunjin and Minho-hyung would really like to meet you…”

WHAT THE FUCK?! You made the most unattractive choking noise as you gasped and held your hand to your heart, afraid you were about to have a heart attack.

“But if you are uncomfortable with the whole situation, I can have someone take you ba–”

“NO!” Your hands flew to grab him, but you pulled back before you touched him, instead, putting your hands over your mouth in humiliation of your outburst.

He just laughed heartily and moved to put his other hand on your other shoulder. You were dead. There was no way to survive this. Lee Felix was holding you to face him and you were stunned speechless. “Does that mean you are okay with meeting them?”

You could do nothing but nod your head profusely, almost enough to damage your neck. He kept laughing at you and you couldn’t bring yourself to give two fucks about it. You probably looked pathetic at how much you were panicking…

“Well, then!” He pulled out his phone again and typed out a message, the following *bloop* from his phone indicating he sent a text. “They’re on their way!”

“Oh my gosh…” Your mouth involuntarily let out a sliver of your thoughts and you felt his hands lightly squeeze your shoulders before releasing you.

He offered a meek smile. “They wanted me to come first so you would be more comfortable. I guess I didn’t do a great job, huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and you waved your hands in front of you in protest.

“No no! You’re doing great! It’s just hard to relax when… well… it’s you! Like, you must know the effect you have on people!” It should be entirely obvious that anyone who would be able to meet them would go certifiably insane.

“Oh? And what effect do I have on you?” He stepped forward slightly with a crooked smile and it was a goddamned miracle you didn’t faint. The way he lowered his voice to negative decibels didn’t help one bit.

Was he…? No. Nope. Nuh uh, you needed to pull your brain out of delulu land RIGHT NOW. It was a simple question, nothing more.

“U-uh… I-I… I…” You couldn’t find the ON switch to your brain and you were panicking again.

And as if it couldn’t get any worse, the two of you turn to the door when you both hear the fidgeting of the doorknob. For some reason, that’s all it was. The knob was twisting and turning and then you and Felix watched as someone slammed into the door and Hyunjin came stumbling in.

He cursed under his breath and then stood up straight with a smile on his face once he saw you. As he came in, Lee Know walked in after him guffawing and pointing at him. He cackled a speedy sentence in Korean and you looked at Felix in confusion.

Felix started laughing too as Hyunjin made a sour face and turned to you. “The door was jammed and he was having a breakdown trying to force it open.” Felix cracked up and Hyunjin punched his arm while angrily murmuring something Korean under his breath.

You felt a tiny bit more at ease as you giggled behind your hand.

However, that was short-lived once the two newly arrived men turned their attention towards you. Your smile morphed into one of trepidation real quick.

Hyunjin and Lee Know bowed their heads in tandem in greeting, and then Hyunjin shook his head, as if coming out of a stupor, and stepped forward to offer his hand. Again, you tentatively grasped his hand and he squeezed it with a light shake, releasing it afterward unlike the life-threatening grasp of Felix.

“Hi! I’m Hyunjin!” Felix snorted out a half chuckle and you looked down with a shy, amused smile as well, knowing he was thinking the same thing you were about the introduction. “What? What did I say?” You shook your head and offered a small smile.

“Nothing! Nothing!” You bit your lip to hold back your grin. “I… I’m honored to meet you…” You bowed your head to him and then looked to Lee Know to do the same.

You instantly regretted your eye contact with the man behind Hyunjin because his gaze was sharp and piercing and you felt like you were just stabbed in the chest. Your expression faltered and all of the blood in your body rushed to your face.

You could have sworn you saw a smirk cross his features, but he quickly offered a tight-lipped smile and waved at you, making no moves to come closer as the other two had. “Hi, I’m Lee Know.”

You offered a shaky smile and waved back. Damn your trembling arm to hell. “H-hi…” You introduced your name to both of them and then looked down to the ground, unable to bring yourself to make eye contact any longer than you had to.

You heard Minho speak and you raised your head only slightly when he said something in Korean that almost sounded like… cooing? You heard the other two chuckle and then you really looked up, once again, looking to Felix for answers.

He smirked and then mischievously eyed Minho. “Hyung thinks you’re cute~” He said in a sing-songy voice.

“YAH!” Minho angrily stepped forward and Felix ran behind you while laughing, holding you in front of him by your arms as your eyes blew wide and your heart started racing. That’s it. You were dead. No other explanation made sense.

While Hyunjin doubled over, absolutely howling with laughter, Minho just stared at you with an unreadable expression as your face, once again, turned into a tomato. Surely they are fucking with you. There is no way in hell that this adonis of a man thought you were any type of attractive.

Still, with a completely expressionless face, Minho sighed in tiny English. “Dance for us.”

Your jaw must have completely detached and dropped to the ground like a damned cartoon character because the look on his and Hyunjin’s faces was pure amusement.

Felix quickly walked around to stand in front of you again, attempting to do damage control. “What he means to say…” He rolled his eyes at the elder. “-is that we want to see your performance ourselves. Minho-hyung is our dance leader and he was just about insistent to see if you have any other… skills to show us…” He almost seemed nervous asking the question.

Why was he nervous? If anyone should be nervous, it should be you! You frantically shook your head. “Nononono! I couldn’t possibly… I can’t… I’m not… I-I…” You were terrified that they would even think to ask such a thing. “I am nowhere near as amazing as you guys!” Minho huffed and you looked over to see him roll his eyes and mutter something Korean under his breath. You felt your heart shatter at his disappointment.

You instantly stiffened when you felt an arm wrap around your shoulders from your right. And when you looked over, you stopped breathing. Hyunjin’s face was right fucking next to yours and his smile was stupidly attractive as he looked down at you. “Come on! It’ll be fun!” He lightly squeezed you and you wanted to crawl into a hole and die when a tiny squeak escaped your mouth.

You sucked in your lips and you clenched your eyes shut to hide your horrified expression. You expected teasing, laughing, anything, but all you heard was silence. When you opened your eyes again, you were taken off guard to see that they had gotten closer to you and all three had an expression that looked like they would eat you alive.

Minho stepped up right in front of your face and you felt your bones tremble. He gently grasped your hand in his own and looked deep into your eyes. “Please.” How was it that this man could ask such a vulnerable question, and yet make it sound like a command? He had you ensnared in his gorgeous eyes and there was no chance of escaping.

…but honestly, you couldn’t care less.

“O-okay…” You shakily whispered. An evil sneer morphed onto his face at your meek word of relent.

“Good.” Your eyes widened from the cocky tone in his voice and your eyes followed him as he released your hand and made his way to the door, exiting casually with a friendly nod to Tyrone whom you could see standing just beyond the threshold.

You looked at the tall man still holding you with confusion written on your features. “Why is he leaving?” You almost wanted to cry due to having such a short time with him.

Hyunjin flashed a gorgeous smile, but Felix was the one to speak up and you turned to him. “We can’t do it here, love. We can’t stay in the building all night.” ALL NIGHT?!?! “We’ll sneak you up to hyung’s room so we won’t be bothered.”

You stopped breathing. He called you love. He said all night. He said Minho’s ROOM.

You almost felt sick from the nerves you were feeling. Why, of all people, did they want you to accompany them? And even further, take you back to their room???... “W-wait… you mean his hotel room?!” There was no holding back the disbelief in your voice and Hyunjin chuckled.

When you turned back to look at him, he was even closer to your face (if that was even possible at this point). “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, pretty girl. We just don’t have any other options. We need to make sure we keep you a secret.” He winked and you could tell he was trying to hypnotize you with those damned sex eyes, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to put up a fight. Especially since you could feel him gently caress your arm with the hand he had wrapped around you.

You had to close your eyes and face the floor to collect your thoughts and learn how to speak again. “O-okay… let’s… let’s go…” You exhaled heavily from the amount of air you were holding back and you felt a small hand on your left grasp onto your own.

You heard a gleeful noise from your right. “I’m so excited! Let’s go!” Hyunjin released you and skipped off out the door and down the hall.

Your face must have shown your thoughts because the man holding your hand decided to poke at the worried crease between your eyebrows. “You doing okay in there?” He had an amused smile but you could still see the concern behind his eyes.

Your heart swelled. He really is the world’s best friend, isn’t he? “I’ll be fine. This is all just… a lot.” You nervously chuckled and he squeezed your hand tighter.

“I’m sure it is pretty stressful. If at any point you feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed, just say the word and we can take you home.” You offered a small smile and he returned it. “Okay, well. Let’s get to it. I’m sure they’re already waiting.” And with that, he walked you down the hall, hand in hand, to get ready to head out.

- - - - - - - - - -

You were pretty upset that the rest of the guys had already headed out and you didn’t get the chance to meet them, but you were already blessed beyond compare to even get this far, so you didn’t share your complaints with the three.

They paid for a cab to take you to their hotel and you entered separately from them to hide suspicion and, before you knew it, you were in the hotel elevator with three of the most drop-dead gorgeous creatures you had ever seen.

That was probably the slowest elevator in existence and yet too quick for your liking. You stood on one side, probably looking like a cornered baby gazelle while three hungry lions stood on the other side dissecting you with their eyes. How you would ever be able to get your body to dance for them, you didn’t know.

When the elevator bell dinged to indicate its arrival, you involuntarily jumped out of your skin. Hyunjin and Felix tried to hold back their chuckle, but Minho just cackled and patted your head as he waltzed out of the elevator as if he wasn’t leading you to your demise.

They didn’t even say a word as Minho nonchalantly unlocked the door and the three of you followed him in. You probably looked pathetic. Your arms were tucked in on yourself and your shoulders were tense. You probably looked super tiny in this unnecessarily large room. Unfortunately plenty of room to dance.

Hyunjin and Minho plopped down on the huge couch in the middle of the room and looked at you expectantly as you idiotically stayed frozen in the corridor and Felix closed and locked the door behind you. “Yah.” Minho exclaimed and then motioned to the large space in front of them. It should seem rude, but the look in his eyes didn’t scream malevolent. He just simply didn’t seem to know how to convey what he wanted.

Felix gave him an exasperated look and then turned back to smile at you. “It’s okay, love. We just want to check out your skills firsthand.” All you could do was nod your head obediently, words completely evading your comprehension, as you set down your small clutch purse and stepped up in front of them.

“Um, do you need to take my phone or anything? I know you guys are probably worried about secrecy and all of that sooo….”

Felix offered a fond smile. “Are you planning on telling anyone?” Your eyes popped open and you shook your head profusely. “Then we’re all good! We’ve never really done this before, but we trust you, noona. We are pretty good judges of character.”

Why? Why would they trust a completely random Stay? Of course, you want what’s best for them and they haven’t done anything to make you uncomfortable… well… not in an unwelcome way, but you are afraid of what could happen to them if they trusted the wrong person.

Hyunjin smirked as he stood up and walked to the mini-fridge. His eyes scorched you with their intensity as he returned to the couch with a bottle of wine and a couple of the hotel’s cups, tongue peeking out the corner of his lips as he assessed you. “Do you mind if we drink, angel? We just had a long day and we need to take the edge off.”

“N-no, I don’t mind…” You sounded incredibly small and he flashed his cocky open smile before pouring him and the others a cup.

You watched as the three took a sip, your eyes following the bob of Minho’s Adam's apple as he gulped and you found yourself taking a dry swallow too. Once you finally regained the ability to think about anything other than the dangerous thoughts lurking in your head, you looked up and realized he was boring his eyes into you as he calmly sat down the cup across the coffee table, making a gesture from you to the cup.

You had no clue what he wanted from you. Did he want you to fill it up even more for him? “Huh?” You hated to sound dumb, but you were probably already getting there with the way Minho clicked his tongue in frustration and picked the cup back up. He reluctantly stood from the couch, leaving the other two men to sit and watch your movements like a hawk as he stepped around the table and stood only a foot’s length away from your face.

Without looking away from your frightened eyes, he calmly spoke “Do you want some?” Your eyes widened and you about fainted when Minho flashed a crooked smile of amusement and cocked an eyebrow.

“Wha– I–”

“Hyung knows a lot more English than he likes to let on. He just doesn’t want to have to talk.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes while explaining. “It might help you relax? But you don’t have to if you don’t want any.” You looked down at the cup that Minho was holding up in between your bodies and then back up at his eyes.

He tilted his head with a smile that would normally seem innocent but looked almost teasing on his face. Never straying your eyes from his, you gingerly retrieved the cup from his hand and pulled it to your mouth. He didn’t move a muscle as you tilted back with eyes closed and appreciated the smooth, bittersweet beverage from the cup of the man that had just drank from it.

When you finished your sip and opened your eyes, you were beyond flustered to see that he was looking at your mouth. You couldn’t breathe as you licked the remaining wine off of your lips and watched as he moistened his own as well. When he looked back up to make eye contact, he smirked. “Good girl.”

GOOD GIRL?!?! DID LEE MINHO JUST CALL YOU ‘GOOD GIRL’?!?! You were dead. You could die then and there and be happy.

Unbeknownst to you, that was just the beginning.

Without reclaiming his cup, he stepped back and went to plop back down in his spot on the couch. You just stood there with wide eyes and jaw dropped as you saw them look at you with amusement. “You’re adorable, you know?” Hyunjin leaned forward and propped his elbows up on his knees. He then tilted his head and cutely asked, “Can I keep you?”

Fuck.

“Yah, Jinnie. Stop scaring the poor girl.” Felix grumbled and then turned back to your trembling form. “Ignore him, we just want to see you dance. Maybe even help you out if you’d let us.” He winked at you and you blushed furiously.

Fuck it. You downed the rest of the contents in the cup in one go because you needed all of the liquid courage you could get. When you sat the cup back down in front of Minho, he leaned forward, mimicking Hyunjin’s position, and smiled mischievously at you. You had to force yourself out of the grasp his eyes had you locked in.

“Um… what did you guys want to see me dance to?”

“You know more than one?!” Hyunjin’s eyes blew out and he grasped his heart dramatically. You couldn’t control the giggle from his antics and they all smiled at you, Minho attempting to hide his own grin behind his refilled cup.

“Yeah… I know a lot of them. You can choose one and I’ll see if I know the dance…” The three of them looked at you in amazement and disbelief at your words.

They continued talking for a moment amongst themselves and you, with no knowledge of what they were saying, just stood there looking at your restless feet. “Do you know the choreo for District 9?”

Shit. That was probably the most difficult one!

Still, you did know it…

You nervously chuckled. “Uhhh yeah, but I’ll probably be awful at it. It’s not an easy one.”

Felix and Hyunjin had giddy smiles while Minho looked at you with scrutiny. “Who’s part do you know?” Hyunjin looked at you with wide eyes.

You blushed furiously. Will they know your bias just by your answer? Surely not, right? Still, you were shy to admit it. You looked down as you twiddled your thumbs, unable to look at them as you answered. “Minho– I-I mean Lee Know…” You chanced a look up at him and he looked like he was trying to hide his smile once again.

“I want to see it!” Hyunjin raised his hand excitedly and eagerly looked at his other members. They both nodded as Minho pulled out his phone, his Anya sticker even more unrecognizable than the last time you saw him post a picture with it. He laid it in front of him with the song ready to play and then he held out an open palm to gesture to the floor, seemingly to order you into position.

You quickly complied and got into formation, which you quickly realized was a rather promiscuous position for a female dressed in fishnets and a skirt. Hey, don’t judge! it’s not every day you get to dress up for a concert! It was especially risque when you basically had your crotch aimed right at the ethereal beings in front of you. You tried to sit where you weren’t completely flashing them, but you looked really awkward doing it. You took a long, deep breath as you closed your eyes and then let your body take over once the song started.

Of course, it took an insane amount of concentration and willpower, but the more you got into it, the more confident you became. You knew you could do it as long as you imagined yourself just practicing regularly in your bedroom rather than in front of three of the most gorgeous men in the world that had probably already seen a full view of your panties at some point in the dance.

When the song was over, you stayed in formation until the three of them stood up and started applauding. You were dewy with sweat and your breathing was out of control, but you couldn’t help but feel partly proud of yourself and partly terrified of their critiques.

Hyunjin and Felix came to you on each side and hugged you tightly while slightly lifting you off the ground. You giggled as they hollered at you and Minho had his hands in his pockets in front of you with a smirk.

When they put you down, they kissed both sides of your cheeks in tandem and your soul felt like it had ascended to heaven. You looked at the two, completely gobsmacked, as they stood in front of you with bright smiles.

Hyunjin giggled. “That was amazing!”

“You really are an amazing dancer, noona!” Felix took your hand and squeezed it, which prompted Hyunjin to do the same with your other hand.

And, completely unexpectedly, Felix flashed an evil grin.

“Sooo, based on the video and this dance, I can only assume that Minho-hyung is your favorite among us?” The two in front of you looked back at the unassuming man that had sat back down.

You looked away when you felt all the blood rush to your face. The two cackled and Hyunjin said something in Korean to Minho. “Hey! Don’t tell him!”

“Too late, love. Like we said, he probably already knows what’s being said, anyway” The two boys released your hands and your face was mortified as you looked at Minho.

You were surprised to see that the tips of his ears were tinged in red and he had grabbed the wine bottle to fill up his cup once again. Hyunjin sounded patronizing when he rambled off something to Minho and the tallest received a threatening glare from the dance leader.

When you looked back at Felix, he looked like he was deep in thought. Then abruptly, it looked like a lightbulb went off in his head. “Hey, noona! Since you know hyung’s choreography to ‘Taste’, can Hyunjin and I dance it with you?!” Your heart dropped out of your ass, but by the look of the two boy’s pleading faces, you didn’t have it in you to refuse.

Again, you chuckled nervously. “I-I guess I can give it a shot…” They basically jumped for joy and Minho was already scrolling through his phone for the song. The other two got into position which prompted you to do the same as you calmed down your breathing and tried to not panic.

You heard the opening notes and it was a lot harder to concentrate when you knew they were dancing with you. Still, you did your best to represent the man you were performing for that had concentration written all over his features.

However, a little way into the song, you panicked.

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Your move was supposed to have you splay your hand out over Hyunjin’s chest and waist but… there was no way in this goddamned universe that you could feel confident enough to touch him like that.

You didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, so you just hovered your hands over the correct areas. When you checked Minho’s expression, he had sat back against the cushions with his arms crossed and a cocked eyebrow.

Shit.

You could tell the others noticed too as the three of you continued to dance with their eyes bored into you.

Once the song ended, you were afraid to meet eyes with any of them. That was until you heard the velvety voice from the couch chime your name.

You snapped your head up to look at him, not expecting him to address you directly, and you realized he was walking right up to you. He spewed off something in Korean to the other two and then he gently grasped your hand. Holy fuck he’s touching me…

He guided you behind the two men that had lined up and you knew exactly what he was up to.

In the same dance formation, he grabbed your hand and wrapped it over the two men as he firmly pressed your full palm to Hyunjin’s chest, doing the same with your other hand on his abdomen. “Okay?” Minho said, still pressing your hands against the other’s chest.

You dumbly nodded and a tiny whimper escaped on your exhale. Your eyes bulged out as they all looked at you with raised eyebrows. “O-oh god, I’m so sorry!” You quickly pulled back your hands and held them over your mouth in humiliation.

“Don’t worry, love! Do you just feel uncomfortable touching us?” Felix said tentatively as if you would run away at the slightest movement.

“I… I… I just don’t feel like I should be allowed to…” You looked down with a nervous chuckle and clasped your hands together in front of you. Without any words, you saw two lithe hands grasp your own as they detangled them. You looked up to see Hyunjin standing in front of you as he pulled your hands up to his chest.

“You can touch me all you want, pretty girl.” Hyunjin winked seductively and your eyes popped out of their sockets for the umpteenth time that night. “Are you okay with this?” Again, you were completely numb as you nodded your head, all of your focus committed to the feeling of his warm chest through his shirt under your hands.

He hummed lowly as he slowly moved your hands to press against his abs. Your eyes peered back up to see his expression and he was biting his lip with black eyes staring down at you.

You unintentionally moved your hands back up to his chest and balled your fists in his shirt with a gasp when you felt Felix wrap his arm around your waist. “You can touch any of us, really…” You felt like a caged mouse when he propped his chin up on your shoulder and your inner thoughts conjured the lewdest thoughts. “I was wondering… what could Hyunnie and I do to convince you to change your bias?” The thickly accented whisper sent shivers down your spine.

You looked at Hyunjin who had a dangerous smile, and then Minho who looked at you with dark, hungry eyes. It was as if he was giving you a nonverbal warning. You couldn’t help but want to rile him up.

You had NO CLUE how to read this situation, they couldn’t possibly be…? No… not possible, get your damned head out of the gutter.

That assumption was quickly rectified when Hyunjin slowly smoothed his hands over your hips and pulled you flush to him. “What about this?” He whispered mere centimeters from your face. You probably looked terrified, but the way your body involuntarily arched into him made him cockily smirk.

You could feel Felix’s arm tighten around you and he whispered his hot breath in your ear. “Or this?” That was when you felt the warm, wet press of his lips against the back of your neck. You loudly gasped, still in front of Hyunjin’s face, but your eyes closed from the sensation. Felix was still right next to your ear, but his voice sounded worried. “Is this okay, love? We can have someone take you home if you feel uncomfortab–”

“No!” Your arms wrapped around Hyunjin’s neck instinctively and they squeezed you as they softly laughed at your reaction. You had looked around the two to see that Minho had returned to the couch and was watching the three of you with an unreadable expression while sipping his wine.

“Well, in that case, I think I could convince you a bit more, yeah?” Hyunjin displayed that same fucking tongue prodding at his lips while he smiled at your frozen form that was locked in his eye contact. You knew your heart was beating out of your chest when Hyunjin looked down at your moistened lips and started leaning down to your face.

Surely he’s not… is he? No fucking way.

He touched his lips down on yours and if it weren’t for their strong grip on you, you would have melted into the floor. He was kissing you. HWANG FUCKING HYUNJIN WAS KISSING YOU!!!

You were as still as a statue, but he urged you to kiss back. And who were you to deny him?

Your lips started hesitantly gliding against his hungry ones and your arms tightened around his neck. He groped your hips more firmly as he pulled you even tighter against him. You heard a click of a tongue somewhere in the room and when Hyunjin pulled back, his cocky smile landed on Minho who was glaring daggers at him from the couch.

You had no clue how to read the situation and, honestly, you were done trying to figure out these enigmatic men. Best to just go with the flow, right?

Before Hyunjin turned his attention back to you, your breath was stolen from you when Felix snatched you from his arms. Hyunjin whined and said something pouty in Korean, but Felix paid no attention to him. Instead, he guided you by your hips to sit on the sofa next to Minho.

You were shocked to see that he was almost as flustered as you were at the unexpected action, but you couldn’t look at him for long before Felix propped his knee up next to your leg and leaned over you to capture your lips. The kiss was a lot more sweet and gentle than Hyunjin’s had been.

That was until Felix made the first plunge to try and deepen the kiss with his tongue running over your lips. After you welcomed the intrusion, that sweet persona was nowhere to be found and you were blessed to see Lee Yongbok in his carnal form. His hands were cupping your jaw and he pressed your lips against his firmly with gnashing teeth and tongues.

When you finally remembered that there were two other people watching you, your lips froze. Felix pulled back to assess you, but then instantly wore a cocky smirk when he saw your blush and your wandering eyes over at the other two with your head hung low.

“What is it, love? Don’t like an audience, or do you not like any of this?” Felix tried to move to catch your eyes and catch them he did. You stared up at the man towering over you and you could see stars in his eyes. How could you say no to such a man? Well… men…

“I… I like this…” You couldn’t look him in the eye to admit it, instead, turning your head to look at the empty cups on the table. You knew your face was burning up and your attention was redirected as Hyunjin scrambled onto the other side of the couch to lean across Minho.

“Felix, it’s not fair for you to steal her like that!” Hyunjin basically completely ignored Minho’s protests when he scrambled across the elder’s lap to try and steal another kiss. Just as his lips touched down on your cheek, the man stumbled to the floor. “Ow! Hyuuung!” He whined.

Minho sat next to you, seemingly very proud of himself for thwarting Hyunjin’s advances, as he caught you staring at him. Your face burned and you bit your lip while looking down at your hands again. Felix stopped hovering over you so he could try and get the limp, overdramatic man off the ground.

When you looked up, you saw that Minho was still looking at you with an ‘I will murder you in your sleep’ type of expression and your eyes widened in fear and anticipation. Before the other boys had returned their attention to you, Minho deftly moved closer to your trembling body.

You could swear you were hyperventilating when the man leaned in close to tower over you as you slid down to cower against the cushions. His expression was ravenous and yet there was a hint of apprehension to it. It wasn’t long before you had backed all the way up to the arm of the couch and his arms caged your head in against the cushions you had fallen back onto.

However, before he actually even touched you, his eyes searched yours. His breath stuttered momentarily before he breathed out in a low voice. “Is this okay?”

Your breath hitched and you couldn’t think about anything but the man over you. His eyes were beautiful and lustful and his tongue peeked out to moisten his plump lips. He was so motherfucking beautiful you wanted to cry. What had you done to be blessed with such close proximity to a specimen such as him? Hell, even this whole situation in general was too good to be true!

You numbly nodded and then stupidly asked, “Is it okay with you?”

You wanted to slap yourself silly once he giggled down at you, but you quickly got over it when his strong hand reached up to your face and tucked your hair behind your ear. He pushed the hair off your neck when he lowered his face down to your ear. “Yes, jagiya.”

That’s it, you were done. How the hell was he not committing manslaughter by saying shit like that? Your breathing alone could kill you, not to mention your heart!

When you felt the warm, wet press of lips to your jaw, a completely inhuman noise came from your mouth. The universe was both against you and in your favor simultaneously. You heard a chuckle and the lips against your skin grinned at the embarrassing noise, and when Minho looked up at you, you decided that your embarrassment was worth it.

He looked like he wanted to eat you. But as he leaned in to finally press his lips to yours, Hyunjin tackled him, shoving the elder off of your melted body before you could even get a whisper of a touch of the eldest’s lips. Felix quickly swooped in and stole you from their wrestling.

He gently stood you up and dragged you away from them, taking your hand and leading you to the giant bed in the center of the room. He sat down on the plush duvet with your hand in his small ones as you stood in front of him. He bit his lip and almost looked shy for a half second, but soon a bright smile spread across his face and he let your hand go. Instead, he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you between his parted legs.

While still sitting in front of you, he pressed up against you and nuzzled his face right up in your goddamned pubic bone.

At that point, you knew your panties were fucked.

He looked up at you when a shaky breath escaped your lips. His smile was blinding. “Do you mind if we play with you tonight, love?” He emphasized the word ��play’ to let you know that he didn’t just mean any fucking Monopoly game or some shit. They wanted you.

His voice was sickly sweet and you gasped as you felt a pair of hands, seemingly Hyunjin’s hands, come in behind you to start rubbing up your abdomen to your bra line as he kissed his way down your neck to the collar of your sheer blouse, teasing the material with his teeth. They weren’t necessarily crossing any lines, not by any of your own standards anyway, but they made sure to not overwhelm you.

I mean, yeah, you were definitely overwhelmed, but in the best of ways. You were pretty sure they could fucking curbstomp you and you would thank them and ask for seconds.

“I…” God, why were you so timid? “I… I like playing…” You said before biting your lip and looking away with a cherry-red face.

When you turned away, you could have sworn you caught a glimpse of Minho ‘adjusting’ himself off to the side. Maybe you weren’t the only one desperate for touch…

The boys caging you in ended up regaining your attention when you felt the hands on your abdomen move to unbutton your shirt. You whimpered when you felt Hyunjin’s hands finally graze up your bare stomach and eventually cresting the curve of your breasts to grope over the material of your bra, his hot breath continuing to fan over the sensitive skin of your neck all the while.

Your upper body unintentionally leaned back into him as he continued his assault on your neck. However, Felix wouldn’t let you get far as he, too, had a strong grip on your hips, and your arms gravitated to rest on top of the blonde’s shoulders. You could feel his hands reach around to grope your ass and you just about went limp from their firm holds on you. You could just lay there all day and let them do whatever the fuck they wanted to.

You mewled when Felix lowered his head again, this time completely burying his face in between your legs as he nuzzled over your clothed core. That, plus Hyunjins rock hard dick pressing into your ass made you whine pathetically. You heard a chuckle from the couch and saw Minho leaning back on it again.

He laughed at your obvious desperation and you whined again. The boys that were torturing you maintained their stance, not moving any further and Minho bit his lip. You could definitely confirm he was palming himself now as he walked up to you and grabbed your chin with one hand.

“Yongbok-ah?” He murmured while never straying his eyes from yours. You felt the movement on your core stop and Minho, very slowly and deeply with his velvety voice said another sentence you couldn’t understand.

Felix spoke up with a chuckle and Minho kept his eyes locked on yours while the younger one translated. “Hyung said that Jinnie and I could try all we want, but he won’t let the night end until he has convinced you that you belong to only him.”

Your breath was shaky and you squealed when he moved in and you finally got to taste those beautiful, plump lips. His tongue tasted sweet from the wine and you groaned in ecstasy. You were in heaven and you refused to ever come down.

You were ripped from your brief bliss when Hyunjin took matters into his own hands and dragged you away by your waist. Before you knew it, Hyunjin had lifted you onto the bed and your head was laid comfortably on the plush pillows.

Hyunjin had the devil’s laugh on his face as he crawled up to hover over you. “Just relax, angel. I’ll show you who you really want.” Hyunjin’s playful smile was replaced with hunger and he tentatively grasped the remaining unbuttoned part of your shirt, hinting at a question. You immediately sat up and took it the rest of the way off.

Once you were back down, his lips eagerly attacked the swell of your breast as his hands fumbled behind you to remove your mesh bra. When he finally deciphered the way to unlatch it, you moaned when he latched his mouth onto your nipple, lithe fingers playing with the other.

While he had his head down, you saw Felix walk over from where he and Minho had moved to stand at the foot of the bed. His eyes were glued to your breasts and the man devouring them until he reached the head of the bed where you were looking up at him with heavy lids and a lustful moan on the tip of your tongue.

He caressed your cheek and smiled at you when you whined from his thumb running over your bottom lip. “So sweet…” He propped his hand up by your head as he bent over to lazily kiss you, the action getting more and more needy with each passing second. You felt Felix’s small hand replace Hyunjin’s on the breast that he wasn’t sucking the life out of and he squeezed it in earnest.

You cried out when Felix moved down as well and then you had a pair of lips on both of your breasts. You scrunched your eyes from the intense arousal you were feeling, and when you opened them again, Minho was looking straight into your eyes with crossed arms and a raised brow that almost seemed like he was challenging you.

God, you were so gone.

You gasped when you felt a hand glide up your inner thigh and under your skirt to cup over your clothed mound and start palming it, bringing sweet pressure to where you were aching profusely. Hyunjin then raised his head to yours and breathed against your lips when he brought his hand back up and thumbed at the waistband of your skirt. “Is this okay, noona?”

You nodded your head frantically, breath obviously picking up, and he quickly followed through, hastily sliding his slim fingers under the waistband of the offending clothing and shucking them, your fishnet tights, and your lace panties off of you. You felt red all over from the fact that you were stripped down completely naked for these three men that hadn’t even removed a shred of clothing.

Feeling a bit self-conscious, especially because Felix also relented his attack and they all three were gawking at you, you squeezed your legs shut and involuntarily crossed an arm over your breasts and the other over your stomach. You wanted to keep going, you just wished they wouldn’t just stand there and stare.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry, noona.” The ray of sunshine noticed your discomfort and gently caressed your bare thigh. “You are just so beautiful, we can’t help but stare. Are you still alright?” It warmed your heart that Felix was still focused on your comfort after all of this and you gave him a shy smile when you nodded. He had to bite back his giddy grin and he quickly removed his shirt, Hyunjin received the hint and did the same right after.

And holy hell. It was just so unfair to be that insanely gorgeous.

Hyunjin lowered himself back down over you with a cocky grin. “Now who’s staring?”

Your face burst into flames and you looked away with a small “S-sorry”. He just chuckled and grabbed your chin to look back at him. “I didn’t say I minded. You can look all you want.” He licked his lips hungrily. “You can touch too…” He said as he grabbed your hand to glide over his naked abdomen. His voice turned to a whisper in your ear. “...anywhere you want…” His hand dragged your own down the length of his stomach and then splayed your palm out over the crotch of his pants to feel his prominent bulge.

OH. MY. GOD.

“You did this to me, noona…” He whispered again, pressing your palm against his tumescence more firmly to reiterate. You gasped in response and kept your hand there when he slowly released you. “Do you want to help me take care of it?” His low voice, his hooded eyes, his everything was dripping in the personification of sex and you tentatively pressed your palm against him again and he groaned into your neck. “Fuck… that’s it…”

His hand landed on your upper thigh and you started hyperventilating. That was until Felix captured your mouth again in another powerful kiss and distracted you from your obvious panic. However, your mouth gaped open against his as you emitted a loud moan when Hyunjin’s fingers found your clit.

“Oh fuck, noona… You’re so wet for us, baby…” You could hear Hyunjin’s voice drift down your body as you continued to tangle tongues with the youngest of the three. This boy has been working on his English dirty talk, hasn’t he? However, you unintentionally unlatched yourself and threw your head back with a loud moan when you felt Hyunjin’s warm mouth close around your clit and start sucking.

Felix elected to focus his efforts elsewhere as well and he properly climbed onto the bed next to you as he returned his mouth to your nipples. You were whining and writhing beneath the ministrations of the both of them and they both firmly gripped your hips still.

You quickly realized that your eyes had fluttered shut in the heat of the moment and you snapped them open again, not wanting to miss a single moment of this batshit crazy experience.

However, when you opened your eyes, you immediately latched them onto the man at the end of the bed. Minho had the most predatory glare on his face and he didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was palming himself while looking at you. You bit your lip and whimpered when he finally dipped his hand under the waistband of his sweatpants and let his jaw slightly fall open as he worked himself up.

Abruptly, without warning, you half groaned, half whined when you felt Hyunjin’s long, lithe finger slip into you and you couldn’t control it when your hips bucked up into his face. He chuckled against your core and then raised his smiling and slick wet face to look at you. “Does that feel good, baby?”

You couldn’t speak, you just nodded your head frantically.

You shrieked when Felix nipped your swollen nipple and soothed it with his tongue when he looked back up at you. “Jinnie asked you a question, love. Be a good girl and answer him, yeah?”

“Yes! Oh my god, yes…” Your voice was wistful and fucked out as your hips kept moving on their own accord.

“These fingers are nothing compared to what I have in store for you…” Hyunjin looked at your body with hungry eyes as he wet his lips. “But, first, I wanna see how much I can make you fall apart…”

And without further ado, he plunged down into your cunt again with vigor as Felix reattached himself to your lips and his hands gained purchase on your breasts. His tongue snaked its way into your mouth while Hyunjin’s sneaked its way into your folds. Your breathing was erratic, and your kiss with Felix turned into more of a breathy moan against his lips.

Eventually, Felix’s kisses moved their way down to your neck and then back to your nipples. He apparently was really fixated on them that night. You looked back up to see that all the while Minho was unabashedly getting closer, having his hand moving at a slow, steady pace inside his pants.

One of your lifeless hands was suddenly being gently maneuvered by Felix to press your palm against the tent in his sweats and you gasped at the heat that emitted from his bulge. A random bout of courage was pulled out of your lust-ridden brain and you used both hands to clumsily untie his waistband, resulting in the man sitting up to stare at you in wonder. You looked up at him with pleading eyes in a silent request for their removal, pulling at both his pants and his underwear.

All he responded with was a blinding smile and chaste kiss to your lips before scrambling off the bed to remove said items. And, man, that lean boy did not disappoint…

However, in the process of doing that, Hyunjin advanced his efforts tenfold and you started to feel your core start to snap. One of your hands flew to tangle in his soft locks as you pulled him ever closer to you in an attempt to chase your high. He definitely knew what he was doing. One last flick of his tongue and a particularly delicious press of his fingers against your g-spot had you seeing stars as you came all over Hwang Hyunjin’s face.

Your head was thrown back in a silent cry (no pun intended) as he led you through your orgasm with lazy pumps of his fingers and when he retreated and you came back to reality, you wanted to crawl in a hole and die from embarrassment.

All three men were breathing heavily with blown-out eyes as they stared at you in awe of your orgasm. You didn’t have much time to soothe the reddening of your face because Felix abruptly jumped on top of you and devoured your lips. The fact that this gorgeous creature was completely butt-ass-naked on top of you with his leaking cock pressed up against your hip was making you dizzy and your hands moved on their own when you realized that you wanted nothing more than to feel him.

His mouth groaned against yours when you pressed your cupped palm over his erection and you whimpered at the feeling. You took the plunge and gently wrapped your fingers around him and started pumping your fist. Felix detached himself from your lips and slumped his forehead against yours as his heavy breathing stuttered.

“Fuck, love. You’re doing so good for us…” He choked out and pecked your cheek as he leaned in to whisper against your ear. “How would you like to feel us inside of you?” You felt the sinful words seep into your skin and mingle with every nerve ending in your body. The shiver of your body was beyond involuntary and a shuttered breath escaped your lips.

He sat up to look you in the eyes directly, taking the hand that you had wrapped around his dick, and started moving it for you when it unintentionally froze from the proposition. “I-I… Y-you…” Felix cut off your rambling with another chaste kiss to your lips.

“If you would rather stop here, we can…” He sounded a bit sullen with each word, and it warmed your heart that he wanted to make sure you were still comfortable.

Just as he started to pull away, you wrapped your free arm around his neck and pulled him into a bruising kiss, your other hand continuing to jerk him off slowly. “G-god, Felix. This is a fucking dream…” You mumbled against his lips.

You could feel the bright smile of his against your lips and he broke away to inquire again. “Is that a yes?” He said with a hopeful smile.

Your eyes surely had stars in them as you looked up at his glowing features. You meekly nodded and your voice sounded more like a whine when you quietly whimpered a short, “Please…”

With that said, he jovially leaped off of you and you grumbled your disappointment and sat up to watch the three men hover around a duffle bag. You shouldn’t have been surprised to see the three of them turn back to you with a condom in each of their hands, all of them looking at you as if they were famished and you were their buffet.

“Um… Felix?”

Said boy tilted his head in query. “What is it, love?”

You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you shyly looked down at the sheets clenched between your fingers. “I don’t know if this changes anything for you, but…” You chanced a glance up at his beautiful face that had confusion written all over his features. “I… I have a birth control implant… and I’m clean… so you don’t really need…” You fixed your eyes on the prophylactic in his hand. “...you know…” You were suddenly too shy to say it outright.

Said item was instantly dropped to the floor as he stared at you in shock. The other two looked panicked and stepped up to him, immediately questioning what your words meant. After he numbly translated, the other two men’s faces comically morphed to match their Australian member’s expression.

You panicked. “But I don’t mind either way! I totally understand if you still want to use precautions and all–” Before you could mutter another syllable, he was on you in an instant, silencing you with his lips.

“Fuck, love. There’s no way we deserve you.” He kissed you again and sat up to cup your cheeks and intensely look you in the eyes. “Are you absolutely sure about this?” Relieved, you smiled at the beautiful man.

“Absolutely.” And with that, Hyunjin joined Felix as he, too, pounced on you like a predator.

Minho, who still had all of his clothes on, just continued to watch as the other two caged you in. “How do you want to do this, baby? Who do you want first? Or do you want both?” Hyunjin had a mischievous smile as he slowly removed his pants and boxers as well and gave your body a sinful once-over. Your eyes bulged out of your head at the sight of him.

You suddenly felt incredibly small under their gaze and beautiful naked bodies. “U-um… I don’t mind either way… I just want to be here for all of you. You can have me however you want…” Your words were bold but your voice was meek and their hungry gazes went gentle.

“Such a sweet baby…” Hyunjin said as they hovered over you and slowly kissed their way down from your jaw to your neck on each side. You wanted to touch them so badly.

With a sudden bout of courage, you tentatively took their cocks in each hand from where they hovered at your sides and put in all of your effort to try and please them. They let out a surprise groan and Hyunjin muttered something to Felix in Korean, immediately scooting over so Felix could position himself between your legs.

Hyunjin stepped back, relinquishing your grasp on his dick and you quivered at the man on top of you that was staring into your soul. Felix had already replaced your hand on his cock and you arched your back when he ran the tip through your folds and over your clit.

You had achieved a core memory from the feeling of his burning hot touch.

“You sure about this, love?” He searched your eyes once more and you had decided your patience had run out. You grabbed the back of his head and crushed his lips to your own, followed by a breathy whisper against his lips.

“Please, Felix… I want you so bad…” Your whimpered words earned a grin on the boy’s angelic face and you slowly felt him stretch you open as he entered you.

Your jaw dropped as you groaned against his lips and he kissed you again, minutely stifling the noises that were so very desperate to escape your mouth from the feeling of his slow intrusion. It had been so long since you’d had sex that you forgot how overwhelming the first push was.

Once he was fully sheathed inside you, he pulled back to look at your face only to find a slack jaw and scrunched-up eyes. You felt the presence of Hyunjin on your right, slowly shushing your whimpers as he tried to distract you with wet kisses along your jaw and neck. “Shhh, you’re doing great, baby girl. Taking our Yongbokkie so well.” He briefly turned to Felix. “How does she feel, Lixie-ah?”

Felix groaned and dropped his forehead to meet yours and you finally pried your eyes back open so you could take in the proximity of his angelic face. “She feels amazing Jinnie…” Felix moaned loudly when you clenched around him and he used the hand that he wasn’t using to hold himself above you to reach down and lift your left leg higher, letting himself push deeper. “I’m not sure how long I’ll last.”

You watched as Felix lifted his head to watch Hyunjin reach down and play with your clit, and they both locked eyes with you when you whined at the sensitivity. Hyunjin smirked playfully and looked back at Felix. The freckled man’s face, which was once holding burning embers, was now looking up at Hyunjin with heart eyes as he towered over the both of you.

“You gonna get her all wet and ready for me Lix?” Hyunjin asked the younger boy with a smoldering grin, never relenting in the slow torture of his fingers on your clit. Felix nodded frantically and, just like that, he turned back to you with a cocky grin.

“Does it hurt? Can I move, sweet thing?” He lowered his lips back down to your jaw and placed a chaste kiss there while waiting for your answer.

“God, please.” You sighed wistfully.

That was all the incentive he needed to pull all the way back to the tip, and then slam all the way back to your cervix with full force. You cried out in pleasure and he set a brutal pace, Hyunjin’s fingers finally leaving your swollen bundle of nerves to start playing with your nipples and return his lips to your neck. There was no doubt going to be a mess of hickeys all over your body and you trembled at the thought.

With the boys attacking both sides of your neck, you were, again, faced with the man at the end of the bed. He tilted his head and raised his eyebrow at you again to challenge or mock you, you weren’t quite sure which… maybe both. However, with the way he palmed his bulge over his pants, and seeing how the tips of his ears were bright red, he was definitely excited for more.

You were so gone for these men that you wanted to really chalk it up for them. With Felix still pounding into you, you slowly rolled your tongue over your bottom lip before biting down on it and throwing your eyes and head back with the most pornographic moan you could muster.

When you raised your head again, all three men were staring down at you with shock written on their faces. You couldn’t let the embarrassment sink in long, however, because your action brought Felix to his climax.

The sight of Lee Felix’s face during orgasm was like being shot in the heart with a poison that spread heat throughout your every nerve ending. There was no describing it. You could feel the force of his cum shoot deep inside you and you felt dizzy as he rode himself through it.

“Holy hell, love…” He dropped down to kiss you messily. “You’re a goddamned dream…” He leaned back and looked at your sweating and panting form and offered the sweetest of smiles. However, Hyunjin interjected with a slap on Felix’s ass and everyone breathily chuckled at the yelp that escaped his mouth. “Yah!”

“Don’t be a hog, Lixie-ah!” He looked back at you while still talking to Felix. “I’ve been dying to rearrange her insides…” He poked that damned tongue out the side of his mouth and ran his eyes up and down your frame, making you shiver from the intensity.

You winced when Felix’s softening cock was pulled out of you and he retreated from between your legs but gasped when Hyunjin took his place and grabbed both of your ankles. He smiled sinfully at you and propped your legs up on his shoulders as he lined up with you.

Hyunjin was definitely longer than Felix because as he breached your entrance and your breathing picked up again from the delicious feeling of him sliding through your walls, pushing Felix’s seed even deeper inside you, you choked on air when he kept pushing further against your cervix until you felt honest-to-god tears run down your cheeks. He froze just before he was completely flush with you and he looked panicked.

“W-wha– did I– are you o-okay?” He momentarily struggled with his English as he stuttered the words and you quickly wrapped your arms and legs around him when you felt him try to pull out.

“N-no! I’m okay! Gwenchana! Gwenchana!” You put your hand over your mouth at your outburst and giggled at yourself, thankfully making the other men relax as well. “I-I think you might just be too… ahem…” Why were you so shy?

He sweetly smiled and leaned down to kiss you, seemingly understanding your meek words. “Do you want to lead then?”

You really didn’t know what you wanted, but if he kept going at that rate, he might really rearrange your insides. Your shy nod brought an endeared smile to his face and, before you could even prepare yourself, he quickly pulled out and tumbled backward to lay on his back, pulling you on top of him to face the foot of the bed. You gasped and briefly saw Felix and Minho mumbling something off to the side with Minho responding with a cute giggle.

You looked down at Hyunjin who was devouring you with his eyes and running his hands up and down your hips and thighs. “I like seeing you on top of me, baby.” You bit your lip and sprung into action, lifting your hips and grabbing his cock to line him up. Your eyes were glued to his gorgeous face when you slowly lowered yourself down on him and saw his long lashes flutter in euphoria.

There was no getting over how unreal this was. You felt dizzy as every inch of him dragged across your sensitive walls and you slightly jerked your hips up when his tip pushed against your bruised cervix. His face screwed shut as he seemed to try and hold back from fucking up into you.

Honestly, some twisted part of you wanted him to.

When you wiggled your hips back down, you took deep breaths and ground against him until the pleasure started to weigh out the pain. When his hips accidentally twitched up into you, you let out a strangled cry and Hyunjin reached up to cup your face in his hands.

“I’m sorry baby. You just feel so good…”

You naturally leaned down until your lips collided again and all you could respond with was a small ‘more’ mumbled against his lips. His eyes flew open and you planted your hands on each of his pecs, silently pleading with your eyes as you continued to grind against him.

That was when his eyes turned dark and his fingers dug into your hips and ass with bruising force. The powerful thrust that followed had you seeing stars.

He had planted his feet onto the bed and started fucking up into you at a brutal pace, muttering both English and Korean expletives under his breath as his hands moved their grasp to fondle your bouncing breasts. That was when you felt Felix’s presence return and start kissing down your neck to meet one of the nipples that Hyunjin’s fingers were teasing.

You whined loudly and threw your head back when Hyunjin harshly pinched the nipple to allow Felix’s tongue to suck and flick the sensitive bud. You returned your hooded eyes to the men when you felt your breasts being released. The following sight made you want to scream.

Hyunjin had grabbed Felix’s jaw and they stared directly into each other’s eyes when Hyunjin forced two of his fingers into Felix’s mouth. The younger man fluttered his eyes and moaned around the digits, sucking and licking around them enthusiastically.

When Hyunjin finally pulled his fingers away, he and Felix continued to stare at each other for a moment, seemingly frozen in time. You whined when Hyunjin slowed down his hips, and that seemed to knock them out of their trance.

Hyunjin regained his cocky demeanor and lowered his spit-slick fingers down to your clit. One particular thrust sprung tears to your eyes, and you cried out when his fingers started circling around your bliss button. You were far too close to climax and both of the men knew it.

After some strangled mumbling from Hyunjin’s mouth, words completely foreign to you, Felix swiftly stood up on the bed and stood his legs on each side of Hyunjin’s torso. His newly awakened erection stood proud in front of your face and you wasted no time wrapping your lips around it and humming at the taste of your own lingering juices on his skin.

The beautiful man sighed in pleasure and tangled his fingers in your hair, his practiced muscles keeping him balanced as Hyunjin continued to pound into you. You worked your mouth and tongue with gusto and once you wrapped your hands around his length as well, you knew you could get him to cum in no time.

“F-fuck… how are you so fucking *ngh* good at this?” Felix muttered in the deepest voice you’ve ever heard and it made you tighten your pussy around Hyunjin’s cock, earning a beautiful moan from his plump lips. “S-shit, love– I’m cummin’...” Felix tried to pull away, but you just wrapped your arms around him to grab his perky ass and pull him further into the tight ring of your esophagus.

You looked up as you felt the first spurts of cum hit your throat, and you were once again blessed with the beautiful sight of Lee Felix’s face of ecstasy. He heaved for a moment once he was done riding out his high and pulled out of your abused mouth. He looked like he was in a trance when he looked down at you and cupped your jaw. However, when you took a big gulp of the cum swimming around in your mouth, his whole demeanor changed.

Felix lowered himself back down to you as he sat to the side of Hyunjin again, a dangerous smile forming on his angelic face as he closed in on your ear, lightly grazing his teeth over the shell of it. “Tell us what you want, love. I know there is something going on in that pretty head of yours…”

He continued kissing and sucking his way down your neck as he waited for a response. There was no way in hell you would be able to voice what you had been fantasizing about.

However, the longer that you were silent, the more aggressive Felix became.

Almost as if it was planned, Felix harshly bit your shoulder as Hyunjin grabbed your hips and slammed you down on his cock. The few tears that you were holding back sprang from your eyes now and Hyunjin growled at you. “Felix asked you a question, baby girl. I think you’d better answer it.”

You looked up to Minho with pleading eyes, and all he did was raise an eyebrow at you condescendingly. You whimpered in defeat and lowered your head, not being able to look at any of them in the eyes as the words left your mouth.

“Lixie…?” Said man leaned back to await your response. “C-can you…” Gosh, you were so embarrassed, how would you be able to get the words out?

Your body naturally ground down on Hyunjin due to loss of stimulation, and he landed a powerful slap on your ass because of it, immediately returning his hands to their vice grip on your hips to keep them still.

You whined pathetically and looked between the two boys whose hands were currently rubbing and groping your body simultaneously. You returned your vision to your own hands which were fidgeting against Hyunjin’s chest and took a deep breath.

“Can you… like… kiss Hyunjin’s neck or something?”

You started getting anxious when you didn’t hear a response and you looked up to gauge their reactions. You saw their shocked faces for half a second until Felix grabbed your face and kissed your lips passionately.

“God, you’re a fucking dream.” Felix whispered against your lips and then he immediately turned around to bury his face in the other man’s neck.

Hyunjin immediately groaned while exposing his neck for further access for the Australian boy, and you whimpered a quiet ‘yesss’ when Hyunjin slammed you down on his cock as far as you could go, repeating the action with dizzying force.

Felix did everything you could’ve hoped for and more. He devoured the other man’s slim neck, while running his hands up and down the length of his torso, ending the journey of his fingers on one of the older man’s nipples.

Hyunjin grunted and built up his pace again, meeting you halfway as you bounced up and down on his throbbing cock. The three of you had a thick sheen of sweat on you and your eyes were glued to the two beautiful men under you.

You just about started to protest when Felix pulled his head away from the patch of skin he was attacking, but what he did next made all the words instantly die on your tongue.

He grabbed Hyunjin’s face with both hands and immediately locked their lips together, tongues soon intertwining in a practiced dance. Your eyes were glued to them so intently, that you didn’t even notice Minho climbing on the bed to press up against your back.

You gasped when you felt him against you with his rock-hard cock pressing between your ass cheeks through his pants. The ghosting of his breath against your neck leading up to your ear made you shiver. “What a dirty girl you are.” You felt him smile against your jaw and instead of kissing the patch of skin as you had anticipated, you felt his hands wrap around you and pinch your nipples hard.

That is what sent you over the edge and your climax came crashing down like waves rolling over you. The two men separated when they heard you scream out in pleasure from your lingering high so they could watch as you worked through your orgasm. You could feel Hyunjin’s legs shake beneath you as he pistoned up into you violently and you knew he was close as well.

Hyunjin growled something you couldn’t translate and his hips stuttered with shallow thrusts as he emptied inside you. The wet lips of the eldest that ran up and down your neck and shoulder kept prolonging your orgasm and you twisted your head around so you could curl your fingers in his hair and pull him in for a sloppy kiss. You could hear a low growl in the back of his throat and it kept you clenching around Hyunjin’s spent dick.

Hyunjin’s whole body went limp after a few more thrusts and you detached your lips from Minho to pull yourself off of Hyunjin’s twitching dick to collapse between him and Felix. The men smiled at you fondly as they gently ran their fingers up and down the smooth skin of your abdomen and a wave of exhaustion crashed over you. Your eyes were closed and you were panting heavily, trying to get ahold of your bearings.

You took a moment to collect yourself behind your closed lids, however, your eyes flew open when you felt a gentle hand nudge your arm.

What the fuck?

You found yourself tucked snugly underneath the fluffy comforter of the huge bed with only a single light on in the corner of the otherwise dark room. You shifted slightly and realized you were still naked, but you could tell they had cleaned you up before tucking you in. Your eyes followed up to the owner of the gentle hand on your shoulder to be met with a shy-looking Lee Know offering you a bottle of much-needed water. You looked around the rest of the room and found that Felix and Hyunjin were nowhere to be found.

How the fuck did I fall asleep so fast?

You shimmied your way up into a sitting position against the headboard, nodding your head with a small “thank you” in Korean as you gratefully accepted his offering. You guzzled down the water as if you had never tasted anything so delectable in your entire life. Once you finished, he took the empty container from you. “More?” He asked with an adorable head tilt.

You internally swooned and you were sure you looked as dazed as you felt as you looked at the ethereal man. “Please…” You mumbled, eyes completely lost within his own.

He smirked (because of course he knew the effect he had on you) and stood to go retrieve another bottle from the mini-fridge.

Once you had repeated your assault on the second bottle and rejected his offer for another, he sat down next to you on the bed and hesitantly took your hand in his. “How are you feeling?” He shyly asked as he played with your fingers.

As if you weren’t already gone enough for the man, this small considerate question had you even more hopeless than before.

You knew he knew basic English, so you decided to reply simply. “Good, thank you…” You couldn’t stop the bashful smile that bloomed on your face and the crooked smile he gave in return was too much for your eyes (and heart) to handle.

“Hyunjin-ah and Yongbokkie went to bed… um…” He looked up in thought as if he was trying to think of how to say what he wanted in English. “They said they will, um, see you… in morning-time?” He stated the words like a question as if he wasn’t sure if he was conveying the words correctly, you just nodded in understanding. “Are you okay to stay with me tonight?”

You felt electricity shoot up your spine. Who in their right mind would ever deny that kind of invitation? You probably seemed a bit too over-eager as you nodded your head profusely with an immediate “yes!”

He let out the cutest of giggles and hesitantly brought his hand up to brush some of your (surely sex-crazed) hair out of your face. He let his hand linger there as his eyes flickered between both of your own. He muttered a small “cute” in Korean (an easy enough word to translate) and moved to cup your rosy cheek.

“Minho?” He looked startled as you suddenly addressed him by name. You at least knew enough Korean to mutter a small question. “Will you kiss me?” He was definitely caught off guard by your question. His face flushed momentarily, but then he quickly crashed his lips into yours, moving his hands to pull you in by the back of your neck.

You sighed into the kiss and he hummed in response. His tongue tentatively snaked into your mouth and you couldn’t help but think of the duality from his earlier demeanor to the gentle and careful man you were swapping spit with now.

However, that thought was short-lived as his kisses got more and more hungry, his hands gravitating down your back and hips to firmly grope your ass. There was no way you could control the small moan that escaped your mouth as you felt him spread your bare ass cheeks just to release them so they would bounce back to their original place where you were sitting.

You felt the edges of his lips tilt upwards and your body naturally gravitated up on your knees so you could get even closer to him. He then took it upon himself to lift your bare body up by your ass to straddle his seated form.

Your whole body was sore and you were pretty sure you were cramping from your abused cervix, but you had absolutely zero complaints as you pressed up against the man you had longed for for the longest time. Never did you imagine that you would ever be blessed enough to meet this man, let alone to be in this position on top of him.

You pulled away from the kiss so you could, once again, take in the sight of the god-like-looking man beneath you. His two blown-out orbs stared back at you and you ran your fingers through his silky locks. Your breath hitched in your throat before your raspy voice spoke the words. “I want you, Minho…”

He could barely contain his smile when he quirked his brow. “Oh yeah? Then who do you belong to?” Your eyes widened at his confident English and you bit your lip, eyes drifting up and down his gorgeous body.

“Y-you…” You could feel your rosy cheeks burn furiously.

The hands he was groping your ass with pulled you suffocatingly closer. “Anyone else?” You saw the possessiveness in his eyes and you couldn’t help but feel a bit prideful from it.

“Only you, Minho. Always you…” Before you could even take your next breath, the man had flipped you over to lay your back against the silky sheets once again, his predatory face inches from your own.

You expected him to be harsh and rough you up a bit, but he surprised you. He looked into your eyes with wonder written on his features. “You’re so beautiful, noona…” He said as he stared you down. You felt a shutter wrack your body, but your mind was lost in his eyes.

You could only respond with a wistful sigh and he eventually lowered his head to bury in the crook of your neck. The wet heat of his lips against your pulse made you melt into the sheets and you moaned when he fixed himself between your legs, pressing his clothed erection against your wet clit.

His hands gently grabbed your arms and slowly raised them above your head, his fingers gliding up your skin to eventually grasp your hands as he ground against you. His lips trailed down your chest to your breast so he could suck one of your abused nipples into his mouth.

When you mewled, he propped himself up on his knees so he could rid himself of his shirt and your eyes widened as your hands moved unbidden to glide over the toned skin of his abdomen. He studied your face as your fingers explored his chest, gliding all the way down to the waistband of his sweatpants. You licked your lips at the delectable sight of his raging boner and your fingers played with the edge of the fabric, your gaze drifting back up to meet his smoldering eyes.

He took it upon himself to stand and remove both his pants and boxers and holy shit… how was his dick drop-dead gorgeous too?! The man eagerly returned to his spot between your legs only, this time, it was his face hovering over your cunt. He gently raised his hands to lightly flick your nipples, making you squeak and then moved his feather-light touch down your body to finally gain purchase on the back of your knees.

Your breathing started to pick up when he hoisted your thighs over his shoulders so you could feel his hot breath fan over your sensitive labia. His eyes, which had been fixated on yours the entire time, finally drifted down to stare at your glistening folds and he closed his eyes in bliss when he finally sucked them into his mouth and moved his tongue through them to find your throbbing clit.

You wanted to cry it felt so good. You didn’t know if he was just a god at eating pussy or if it was just the fact that it was him doing it that brought you to the edge so quickly, but the sensation overwhelmed you too much to think about it. You cried his name over and over again and when he finally snaked his tongue inside you, you grabbed his hair and wailed.

“Oh my god, Minho! Yes! Fuck– holy sh– ngh! Yesyesyes right there! Fff–” You looked down at the gorgeous face in between your legs and you could see a smile in his eyes as you came all over his face. “Ah– Ahhhhh!” You had never had an orgasm so intense and you wanted to reward him for it.

When you finally came down from your high, you pulled him off of you and moved him to stand. He looked confused as you maneuvered him, but quickly changed his demeanor when you took his cock in your hand and swallowed him in one go, making him choke on his own breath. “H-holy fuck–” He gasped.

He was too big to deep throat, but you used all the tricks in the book to give him the best head he has ever had and by the way he was responding, you assumed you were succeeding. He was groaning and kept switching from throwing his head back in ecstasy and looking down at you with fire in his eyes. His jaw was clenched and he was definitely holding back from just full-on fucking your face.

Part of you wanted him to. You wanted him to absolutely wreck your throat until you couldn’t speak anymore, but your aching pussy overpowered that desire. You needed him buried inside you right fucking now.

He puffed out a huge breath that he had apparently been holding when you pulled off of him with a *pop* and crawled backward to spread your legs invitingly. He wasted no time in pouncing on top of you to assault your lips and you whimpered against his mouth when you felt him tease the tip of his penis between your folds.

You whined against his lips. “M-Minho… p-please I need you so badly… please…” He smiled devilishly.

“Fuck, jagiya. You’re perfect…” He used the hand that wasn’t being used to hold himself above you and grabbed you by the jaw to look straight into his hooded eyes. Your pupils were surely blown out and your eyes were gaping as he slowly pushed his way inside you. The stretch was somewhat painful with how thick he was, but the pleasure weighed out the pain once he reached your beaten-up cervix.

“F-fuck, Min…” Your hands scrambled to hold onto something to keep you grounded and one ended up digging into his back and the other grabbed onto his hair, making him groan.

“Gwenchana?” His eyes had squeezed shut in euphoria and you’re sure he didn’t even realize he had switched back to Korean.

You whispered back against his lips, unable to speak any louder. “Gwenchana…” You reassured.

He opened his eyes and for the first time that night, you saw him smile at you with the fondest grin you had ever seen from the man. The drag against your walls was delicious as he pulled back and the both of you cried out into each other’s mouths when he thrust back into you.

A single tear fell from your eye from the overwhelming pleasure and he sweetly ran his thumb over it to wipe it away. He gave you one last gentle kiss before he pulled back out to the tip again and then slammed into you full force. You threw your head back as you cried out and his lips latched onto your neck as he changed his pace to pummel into you at a dizzying rate.

Your body bounced back and forth against the soft sheets and his name fell from your mouth in a non-stop mantra. He, once again, took one of your legs and folded it to throw over his shoulder so he could bury himself even deeper into your cunt, if that was even possible.

Everything about him was perfect and you couldn’t stop the tears that ran down the sides of your face from the amount of pure euphoria you felt in that moment. His lips covered every inch of your clavicle in dark marks and you surprisingly found his possessiveness as a turn-on.

You whimpered, moaned, and cried out your ecstasy and he bored his eyes into your own all the while. “Fuck, noona… you feel so good… so tight and wet for me…” He leaned down to groan against your lips.

You whined in response, once again surprised by his confident English. “For you, Lino. All for you…” That statement made something inside him snap and he growled right before he pistoned into you full force and dropped his forehead to rest on your shoulder, moving a strong hand to furiously rub your clit all the while.

You basically screamed out his name as your orgasm reached its full peak and your walls squeezed him impossibly tight. His teeth clamped down onto your shoulder to muffle his cry of pleasure and he came so hard you could almost taste it.

He pumped both of you through your orgasms as his mouth moved to mesh with your own, sucking, biting, and licking each other's lips lazily. Once he slowly halted to a stop and relinquished his assault on your mouth, he stood up and languidly walked to the bathroom. You heard running water and then saw the naked Adonis return with a suppressed smile.

He held out a hand and, without question or hesitation, you took it. You yelped when you were suddenly lifted into his arms and carried to the source of the running water, soon after, being lowered into a luxurious bathtub with the scent of essential oils washing over your senses. He quickly climbed in behind you and the feeling of yourself laid back against the naked body of Lee Minho in the blissful heat of a five-star bathtub soothing your aching muscles was almost orgasmic.

“How do you feel?” Minho wrapped his arms around you and whispered against your ear right before he started peppering kisses along your neck.

You turned your head to capture his lips with your own. “I feel like I’m in heaven.” You responded with a smile against his lips. He returned your smile and slightly pulled back to look into your eyes.

“I’m excited for you to meet the other members tomorrow.” His eyes shined brightly, proud of his confident English, but you could still detect the danger in them. “But remember…” He squeezed you with the arms he had wrapped around your midriff. “You’re mine.”

You giggled and pressed another kiss to his lips. “Hmmm…” A sly remark passed through your head. “I think I might need some more convincing.” You said teasingly.

“Oh really?” You saw an evil glint gloss over his eyes and you jumped when you felt the man pinch your clit. “Want more?” You could already feel him sporting a semi against your ass and you were amazed by his stamina.

You quickly turned around to straddle the man and he held you by your hips as you wrapped your arms around him. “Absolutely.”

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If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! Sorry if you weren't expecting it, but, in the end, Lee Know always ends up being a top priority for me. 😆

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2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist

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