The room was quiet, a little too quiet given the fact that a colleague was currently reviewing a post-op complication that spiraled.
Zayne sighed, adjusting the cuffs of his coat. He was listening—or he was trying to, anyway.
But it was hard to focus when just hours earlier you were curled up against his chest, skin-to-skin. You were so tired, barely even half-awake when he accidentally woke you up while getting ready for work and you murmured a soft "good luck."
He shifted in his seat, quickly blinking, as if that might help him concentrate.
Then his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was barely noticeable. Probably because Zayne tended to ignore any personal texts at work. So he left it at that.
But then it buzzed again.
He let out a small breath through his nose before discreetly slipping his phone out of his pocket. It was just to silence his notifications, but when he saw your name, he paused.
Two new notifications.
Zayne's gaze drifted up, then back down. He shouldn't be checking his messages right now, but it was you. With a hesitant tap, he opened your messages.
You: Found your love bites
You: [1 image attached]
His breath hitched.
Hickeys.
Four, to be exact.
His eyes roved over the image, his chest suddenly too tight. Zayne was never one for carelessness. He didn't do things like this, especially when those things seemed so juvenile.
But he'd meant those.
Really meant them.
They weren't there for the sake of being there. No, they were deliberate, something he left behind because he wanted you to remember and that was unnerving.
It wasn't him. It wasn't the composed, rational doctor he'd worked so hard to make of himself. But in that moment, he couldn't help himself to the feeling of your skin between his teeth.
You were sweet. A little salty, too. The kind of combination that made it impossible not to go back for more.
He didn't regret it, he was sorry though.
You'd have to cover up your neck for a week. And God help him, something about that thought made his lips curl up with a smile.
It was barely there—just a soft, subtle smile, there nonetheless.
"Zayne."
He blinked, looking up and smoothly sliding his phone back into his pocket. "Yes?" The quiet smile he'd worn just seconds ago had slipped away, almost like it was never there in the first place.
"You're up."
Zayne cleared his throat. "Sorry,” he uttered, standing up and making his way to the front of the conference table, notes in hand.
You should've been long gone by now. Erased from his mind. He had a presentation for God's sake. But you were still there. Making his cheeks warm and his stomach turn.
<3
It'd been a long day.
Zayne stood outside your door now, one hand inches away from your door—debating whether to knock or not—and a small plastic bag with medical supplies in the other hand.
It was late. The smell of hospital still clung to his skin—clean, but not laundry clean. Sterile clean. Like gloves, soap, and a hint of antiseptic.
Zayne took a small breath, finally knocking against your door. He waited, his hand falling to his side. He didn't even tell you he was coming, just texted that he'd get back to you later.
Now he was here, uncharacteristically... nervous? It was hard to tell for what though. To see you maybe? Or maybe, to see the evidence of what you did to him?
Who knew.
His thoughts quickly melted away when you finally opened the door, looking just as soft as you did this morning. You were wearing a loose shirt you'd stolen from him a little bit ago, pj pants, and some fuzzy socks.
How were you always so... what was the word?—endearing?
Your eyes widened a fraction, raking over his form. "Zayne? What are you doing here? You didn't tell me you were coming."
"I know," Zayne answered, his gaze shifting to the bruises on your neck.
He inhaled sharply.
A quiet warmth bloomed in his chest. It was unbidden, unwelcome. But it was there, no matter how hard he tried to will it away.
He liked them too much.
Way too much.
Zayne cleared his throat quietly before holding the bag out. "I brought this for you."
You glanced down, taking the bag and pulling away from the door to let him in. "What is it?"
"Look inside."
You slowly closed the door behind him, then peeked into the small plastic bag. There was some sort of cream, a few instant cold packs, and a thin cloth.
You glanced back up. "Is this...?"
"For the hickeys." Zayne nodded, his voice quieter now.
You let out an airy laugh. "Zayne.. You didn't have to."
"No, but I wanted to." He gently brought his hand to the underside of your arm. "I'm the one who left them." His eyes drifted back to the purple marks, his chest tightening again.
He looked at you again. Waiting.
You smiled. "It's not a big deal. I can do it."
Zayne's grip on your arm tightened just slightly, almost like a silent plea. "Let me help you."
You hesitated for a second. You didn't mind the hickeys, so why was Zayne making such a big deal about it?
Still, it was hard to even think about rejecting his offer when he looked at you like that—with that odd mix of pleading and guilt and something else you couldn't place.
Eventually, you gave in with a sigh. "Fine."
"Thank you." Zayne guided you back to your couch, taking the cold pack and cloth out.
"It's not a magic fix," he murmured, squeezing the bag and shaking it lightly as he sat down beside you. "But it'll help." He wrapped the pack in the small cloth, then gently pressed it to your neck.
You hummed. "Thank you, Zayne."
He shook his head. "Don't thank me. I gave you these.."
He paused, the word just on the tip of his tongue. Why was this so hard to say? He was a doctor, not some boy who just learned how to leave a mark.
"Hickeys," he finished, his voice quiet.
For a moment, you said nothing. Just watched him, taking in the little furrow of his brows and the hard line of his lips.
Was he always so cute when he was guilty?
"You're cute," you blurted.
Zayne paused, his eyes snapping to yours briefly before going back to your neck. "I'm applying first aid."
"Mm. Cute." You smiled.
Zayne paused again, his lips twitching with a gentle smile. You made it impossible not to mirror the small gesture. How could he when you looked at him like that?
So sweet and soft.
For a brief—very brief—moment, he almost wished he wasn't trying to get rid of your hickeys right now. Wished he'd let them last a little longer.
── .✦ synopsis.ᐟ you’ve always been told you’re too gentle for this world—too naive, too forgiving, too willing to bend at the will of others. when your paths cross on a rainy night after his gig, it doesn’t take long to realize yang jungwon is nothing like you. where you soften, he resists. where you stay, he pulls back. and yet, for better or for worse, you find beauty in his coldness. but after nine aching months spent tangled in jungwon’s mess, you're left to your own devices to mend all the strings he's broken.
── .✦ cw.ᐟ <- for entire series: strugglingmusician!jungwon x softhearted!reader, angst in the form of: jungwon being a cynical nihilistic pos, cruel language, mentions of reliance on alcohol and nicotine, they're lowkey situationship final boss but won is awful about it, emotional neglect, self isolation. smut in the form of: unprotected sex (use protection!!), p in v, fingering, dacryphilia, degredation, won switches from mean to gentle in the blink of an eye, oral (f & m receiving), semi public. reader is referred to as y/n, lowercase writing oops.
── .✦ a word from fawn.ᐟ໒꒱ HIIII guys *gulps*... this is my first ever multi-part fic that i've lowkey been working my ASS off on lately (but im also pro at getting side-tracked tihihihi) n e way i'm almost finishing up the first part soooo i thought why not drop a little teaser to get people intrigued hihihihi :-) im a perfectionist and always change things so the final product may not read the same BUT thats besides the point i hope u all like it kiss smooch mwah <333
the first time you met jungwon, he was slouched against the grey brick wall out behind your local pub. it was raining then– nothing worth whining about, just enough to drum softly against the overhang above him and leave a heaviness in the air. you’d stepped out for a smoke break, your girlfriends still within the warmth of the pub, likely chatting up the handsome bartender you’d left them with.
it seems you weren’t the only one in need of a cig.
jungwon stood a few feet away, a half-soaked cigarette pinched between his fingers as his lighter clicked uselessly in his hand; jaw tight, tongue pressing briefly against his cheek as though that would fix the tiny contraption. hesitating just a moment, you calmed the butterflies dancing in your stomach and moved closer.
you’d been in his shoes before, after all.
“do you need a new cigarette?”
jungwon’s head snapped towards you as you searched through your purse for the pack of marlboro reds you’d bought at the corner store earlier. the question was practically rhetorical, the only logical answer, by the looks of it at least, a resounding ‘yes!’. he stranger wasn’t quick to respond, though, your question floating in the air for a couple of seconds while he stared you down.
“wouldn’t mind that.” he finally answered, reaching his hand towards you while you fished out a cigarette from your pack for him. it was then that it hit you, although begrudgingly, that jungwon was pretty. painfully so. messy bleached hair brushed against his eyelids, a stark contrast to his skin, blessed with a warmth to it that stood out even in the dullness of the weather surrounding you. his eyes were large, brown, cat-like, and oh so captivating. you found yourself admiring his beauty for a moment too long, a fact made obvious to you by the gradual furrowing of jungwon’s thick eyebrows.
“i won’t drop this one,” jungwon uttered, tugging you out of your temporary trance.
“happens to the best of us,” offering him a small smile, you leaned against the wall next to him, leaving a couple of feet between the two of you.
it was first when your cigarette found its place between your lips that you realised you’d left your lighter back in your apartment; typical. jungwon, on the other hand, had already lit his with the busted-up lighter you saw him fumbling with earlier. taking a deep drag from his cig, he wordlessly handed you his lighter, having felt your gaze on his hand.
“thanks,” you muffled, a spark finally catching after several seconds of fighting with the lighter. “i’m y/n, by the way,” the burning taste of nicotine satiated the craving you’d had for one too many hours now as it filled your mouth and scratched at your throat.
“jungwon,” he responded, seemingly more intrigued by the rain hitting the pavement than engaging in conversation with you.
“you here with friends?” your question seemed to interest him enough for his eyes to meet yours for a few brief seconds before he returned his attention to the weather.
“no,” smoke came out in whisps through his nose as he nodded towards a sticker-clad guitar case leaning gingerly against the wall beside him, “i play gigs here sometimes.”
he definitely wasn’t one for small talk. still, you pressed on.
“that’s so cool! you must’ve finished before me and my girls came; I didn’t see you in there.”
“yeah, probably,”
your compliment must have fallen on deaf ears.
the cig found it's way between his lips again– chest expanding in a deep inhale as he turned his attention fully towards you. his eyes dragged over you– a slow, analytical scan that had your heartbeat skyrocketing despite the calming effects of nicotine.
jungwon must’ve caught on to the change in your demeanour; for what felt like the first time in your entire conversation, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. it was as if the only entertainment you’d had to offer throughout the past 5 minutes spent together was here, now, when you were shrinking in on yourself under his gaze.
“you should come around earlier next time. i finish around 7:30 PM– you’d have a good time.”
before you could open your mouth to speak, jungwon took one last inhale of his cigarette, dropping it on the ground and snuffing it out with his scruffed-up converse.
“thanks for the cig,” he muttered. you remained silent– not that saying ‘you’re welcome!’ was difficult for you, you’ve always been polite by nature, but his sudden invite left you racking through your brain for the appropriate answer.
seemingly uninterested in what you had as a response, jungwon turned around and trudged off, leaving you alone in the chill of the rain with your half-smoked cigarette and far too many thoughts about the stranger you’d just met.
taglist! @heeunleash @feivault @hyuckzcult @endoll @u2jwon @drkbl00d @sjynlvr @wonscrchy (comment or send ask 2 b added or removed from taglist!)
the first time you touch him, he leaves. not in the way you feared, but in the quiet imprint of his fingers against your skin, warmth lingering long after he lets go. that night, you sleep with your hand curled near your face, breathing him in like a secret. because some things bloom slowly. so did your fondness for beomgyu.
𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭. 𝟏, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭.𝟐
pairing: beomgyu x f!reader
genre/tags: romance, slowburn, fated mates, abo dynamics, alpha!beomgyu, omega!reader, college au, rock band au, emo!!!beomgyu, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, late omega presentation, hurt/comfort, mutual nervousness.
author's note: this plot my emogyu-obsessed brain came up with, and the urgent need i felt to write it myself (especially after reading @saccharinezennie 's alpha!gyu fic some time ago) has been eating my mind and literally delaying me from finally getting my life together this year and starting to read articles for the thesis i have to write this semester (ofc i'm also just lazy too. its not only the fics fault) 💋💋 so here i am writing it and creating a blog to post it💋💋💋 also, english isn’t my first language, so if you spot any grammar mistakes please tell me!! hope whoever reads it will like it 🫶
when you signed up for a music theory elective at the beginning of the semester, you obviously hadn’t considered that the class you had been trying to get into for so long — precisely because you were in a completely different major — would become the pinnacle of your weekly torment.
not until that figure burst through the classroom doors.
no.
no, no.
nononononono.
it couldn’t be.
it couldn’t be real. at least not there. not that day. not at that exact hour when you had finally believed you were doing just fine.
of course. how could you have been so naive.
over the past few weeks, you had already heard comments that he studied at your university. even so, you had never truly stopped to consider the possibility that he was, in fact, a music major.
after spending the first two weeks of class forcibly absent for… bigger reasons. after fighting the same war over and over inside your own mind — and losing almost all of them — until you finally convinced yourself you had tamed the beast. that you had landed a punch right in the center of its head and left it unconscious for an indefinite amount of time.
all that effort was in vain. physical. mental.
because you had forced yourself to believe, painfully, that it had been nothing more than an extraordinarily overwhelming late-summer encounter. something intense enough to permanently change the chemistry of your body and brain, but that would still remain only a memory.
after all, meeting your mate wasn’t an automatic pass to a “happily ever after.” it didn’t mean you would stay together for the rest of your lives. that’s not how things worked. they weren’t that simple. or that perfect. right?
there were plenty of omegas and alphas in the world who, even after experiencing the moment of finding their “soulmate,” didn’t necessarily end up together.
you knew that. you had read about it, heard stories, rationalized it until you were exhausted.
but now, contradicting every realistic — and conveniently pessimistic — theory you had built in an attempt to get over something that, in truth, had barely even had time to happen yet, he was there. right in front of you.
and it was like living through it all over again. just without the violent explosions overtaking your nervous system.
which, unfortunately — maybe fortunately — left a thin thread of sanity available for you to notice details.
like the strands of black hair being gently brushed by the early-autumn breeze drifting in through the large classroom windows, messy in a way too careless to be accidental. or how his dark brown eyes now seemed framed by deeper dark circles underneath, marking the skin as if he had spent too many nights awake. noticing, too, that his lips, full and pink, looked slightly more worn than the last time you had seen them. small bite marks. the skin a little peeled.
why the hell did you know so much and notice so many details? you had only been near him for brief moments last time.
and yet now, in less than ten seconds since choi beomgyu — according to reliable sources from a close friend — had arrived fashionably late to the class, you had already made about ten different observations.
i must still be sick.
by the time you realized you hadn’t even had the common sense to disguise the obsessive attention you’d been giving him since the doors creaked open announcing his entrance, it was already too late.
because beomgyu was walking past you at that exact moment.
he pulled out the chair right behind yours, and everything indicated that was where he intended to sit.
you heard him take a deep breath just behind you, in the classroom that was still slowly filling up. and instantly, your wolf noticed.
a gaze burning against your fragile, human ribs.
when you sneaked a quick glance over your shoulder, you confirmed your suspicion. the alpha was looking directly at you.
and despite the growing tension building between the two of you, both seemed determined not to lose composure. as if that reunion had been anticipated for far too long to be ruined by a single misstep.
now with his place more than secured, beomgyu settled quickly into the seat, as if he had always belonged there.
you only realized you had been holding your breath since the moment you saw him walk in when your lungs began to burn slightly.
damn.
all that time. all that drama happening inside your own head. and all of it without even catching a trace of his scent.
in that instant, you officially felt insane.
okay.
counting quickly and silently:
3,
2,
1.
you drew in a deep, anxious breath. and when the scent finally hit you, it was as if you could feel your pupils dilating inside your irises.
last time, you had barely been able to distinguish it, surrounded by countless other scents in that packed crowd. now, strangely, you almost felt grateful for that. you seriously doubted that your already shaken mental faculties back then, could withstand something as hypnotizing as the warm leather radiating from the young alpha. dry, warm, comforting in a dangerously intimate way.
a sharp crack caught your attention: a fragile, worn branch snapping and falling from the tree outside the window.
it had probably endured the entire summer. sun, rain, occasional storms. too thin, too undernourished, and yet still standing. in autumn, however, the slightest breeze was enough to bring it down.
you wondered if beomgyu had ever, at any point in his life, been comparable to a light autumn breeze.
you, in that moment, certainly felt like the branch. but instead of falling with a quiet sound, you had the impression the wind would carry you away entirely, far too far — into a much louder, uglier fall.
“uh… excuse me.”
the voice came from behind you. deep, low, but warm. gentle in a way that felt rehearsed to disarm.
there was a brief moment of silence while you confirmed, with a thread of irrational hope, whether that voice was really directed at you. but there was no other student in the nearby seats. no one else who could have been called in that low, carefully casual tone.
reluctantly, you turned slightly toward him.
and then, as you leaned just a little closer, you caught a second note in his scent: something low, warm. a sweetness that didn’t settle in your nose, but in your chest. you couldn’t quite name it.
“yes?” you replied, afraid it had come out more like a murmur than a real word. finally face to face with the alpha for the first time.
for a few seconds, beomgyu himself seemed unsure of what to say. as if the possibilities were tripping over each other inside his head.
“well…” he cleared his throat. “i ended up missing this class last week. if the professor mentioned anything important, or talked about the semester schedule… could you tell me?” he paused briefly. “of course, if it’s not a bother.”
the small laugh that followed was an almost unfair mix of charm and nervousness.
your heart shrank a little.
“oh, yeah.” you let out an awkward little laugh. you didn’t like admitting this even to yourself, but maybe, just maybe, you had expected a different reaction. something more. some emotion.
it was normal, after everything that had happened…
…right?
“i wouldn’t have any problem telling you, if there were anything,” you continued. “but this is actually my first class of the semester in this subject.”
he didn’t recognize you?
that seemed far too unlikely, considering scent was now part of the equation.
when someone presented, didn’t their scent start running through their glands almost immediately? of course, it matured over time. grew stronger, more distinctive in the following weeks, especially after the first heat. but still, it should have been noticeable.
wow. your resolutions were frighteningly fragile.
all the negative affirmations you had forced your omega to believe over the past few days, in a desperate attempt to soothe that latent need, were simply blown out the window the moment you felt beomgyu’s attention entirely on you again.
“of course, yeah, that’s fine!” beomgyu replied, slightly more exasperated than he intended. he cleared his throat right after, as if trying to compose himself. “thanks anyway, y/n.” he smiled faintly.
he looked and acted considerably more… gentle. more approachable.
which was curious, because this was technically your first real interaction. still, it contrasted sharply with the unintentionally intimidating persona he carried on stage — too confident, too loud, too electric.
…
wait.
“how do you know my name?”
beomgyu’s smile faded.
“ah…” he answered, and for the first time since sitting there, he seemed genuinely nervous. “that.”
he lowered his gaze, his jaw tightening as he forced his brain to come up with some acceptable story. any excuse would do. he was usually good at that. why, now of all times, was his mind completely blank?
no. this wasn’t going to work.
beomgyu let out a short sigh. when he lifted his face again to meet yours, his expression had hardened — not into coldness, but into something more serious. heavier.
you shivered, not prepared for the impact of that look. it was almost the same weight you had felt that day in the middle of the crowd, when beomgyu’s overwhelming presence just a few meters away seemed to suffocate you ten times more than the packed audience around you.
“i…” he began, his voice lower. “i need you to tell me something.”
“huh?”
“honestly.”
“w-well… i guess it depends.” you swallowed. “what do you want to know?”
beomgyu cleared his throat, visibly gathering courage.
“did you not like me, y/n?” he asked directly. serious. but there was something underneath — a carefully hidden layer of fear. hesitation.
the rest of the classroom was beginning to fill up, chairs scraping, voices overlapping, but none of it seemed to exist. the conversation now was only between the two of you.
“me being your alpha…” he hesitated for a nearly imperceptible second. “did that bring you any shame?”
you froze completely.
“if not,” he continued, caring less and less about sounding detached or casual, “then tell me why no one at the university, not even your classmates, has seen you here since the semester started.” his scent mirrored his unrest, growing denser, more present, filling the small space between you. “and if it did,” he added, leaning a little closer, “please tell me. i want to fix it.”
by the time he finished, beomgyu was at least a few centimeters closer to your face, braced against the desk as if he had completely forgotten where he was.
you blinked a few times.
you opened your mouth to answer — and nothing came out.
“it’s… it’s complicated,” you finally managed, leaning back slightly and turning your face away, recreating the distance he had shortened.
in the next second, the professor stood up from his desk, clapping once and announcing the start of class.
beomgyu took a deep breath, clearly frustrated by the interruption.
“do you think you could talk to me later?” he asked quietly. hopeful. “outside?”
you sighed.
and surrendered.
“okay.”
on the weekend that preceded the start of the new semester, beomgyu and his bandmates performed at the grand opening of his uncle’s rock club.
well, about the place? it was exactly what you’d expect from a rock club owned by a fifty-something man who believed music had peaked in the 70s and 80s. walls covered in faded posters, colored lights flickering, and that cigarette smoke no one could quite tell if it was decorative or accidental.
and sure, beomgyu liked some songs and bands from that era, but come on — his band was an emo cover band.
well, mostly. they did covers for bigger gigs like this one, the kind that actually paid. when it was just their usual audience, they played their own stuff.
when one of the bands his uncle had booked for the opening bailed at the last minute and he got a call that went something like, “come on, my dear little nephew, the only young person in this family with taste like your old man here. i heard you’ve got a little band with your friends! how about helping your uncle out?”, he already knew that seventy percent of the audience would have no idea what to do with their set. and it’s not like he hadn’t tried to warn his uncle about that.
‘but it’s fine, uncle. we’ll do it because it’s you.’
and because five of the places we usually play don’t make the fee of one single night at this club, but anyway.
on the other side, there was you.
a “reclusive classical music woman,” as your friends liked to tease. a pianist grown rusty with time, having left your piano behind at the music conservatory in your hometown, which you’d left a few semesters ago to move to a bigger city and study at a prestigious local university you’d been accepted into. lately, you had been working through some family-related traumas tied to a complicated father who always blasted rock way too loud — and you had slowly come to accept the genre better. almost without noticing, you’d developed a quiet but steady love for 2000s rock.
so you went, along with a few classmates, to check out the city’s new rock club opening, hoping to maybe hear something in the vibe you liked — even already fearing the place would be stuck in the dad-rock era.
what you didn’t expect was that you wouldn’t be able to enjoy almost anything from the band that played the best songs of the night because the damn guitarist triggered your presentation in public. and, well… it was practically certain he was your mate.
normally, omegas and alphas present spontaneously during puberty. though there are rarer cases where it happens too early or too late. in your case, now at twenty-one, nothing had happened until then. which, of course, went very much against your family’s expectations, who had always bet that the eldest child would present as an omega eventually.
at some point along the way, even you had started to accept the idea that maybe you were just a beta. and that was fine.
… right?
you tried not to think about it too much. after all, life was moving. you were studying, you had friends, plans, small personal victories. regardless of labels, things were working — or at least not falling apart.
anyway.
presentation usually happened during adolescence. and sometimes, more rarely, it happened differently: when you met your ‘destined/biological partner’. some people preferred one term over the other, but the concept was the same.
the kind of thing people spend their whole lives thinking only happens to others.
there, on that crowded, noisy floor, it was the opening riff of a pierce the veil song blasting through the speakers that made you look toward the stage almost on instinct, immediately dragged closer to the band by your friends.
and then you saw him: black hair falling in long, unruly layers around his face, eyeliner softly smudged around his eyes, and a loose t-shirt falling perfectly over his frame. you felt a tingling behind your eyes, inside your brain, practically. your heart started to sped up insanely. your arms grew warm and when you opened your mouth to sing the first line along with the vocalist, a small part of the crowd managed to follow, to sing along. you didn’t. eyes fixed. throat dry.
you didn’t know whether the stage, set so close to keep an intimate vibe with the audience, was a good or a bad thing in that moment.
at first, you thought it was good. that way, you could look at him up close and drown even further in those mysterious — but so good — shivers running down your entire body.
only a few seconds later, you changed your mind.
more specifically when beomgyu lifted his attention from the guitar to the crowd he was playing for and, as if it had been written in the stars, locked eyes with you for the first time.
he looked slightly uncomfortable on stage at first, still adjusting to the environment.
after all, beomgyu’s band wasn’t exactly the most experienced. as rookies, they usually played for fewer people, in smaller — and sometimes slightly more questionable — venues.
but when he finally lifted his eyes from the guitar strings to the audience, letting his gaze sweep too quickly from left to—
oh.
he froze.
it wasn’t a full face, not clear details. it was just a pair of eyes too large to go unnoticed, reflecting something between the darkness of the crowd and the blinding white stage lights.
even so, beomgyu could tell they were light. a softer shade of brown, the kind that seemed to come alive under the right light. maybe under sunset rays.
it was strange how that was enough. how that vague impression already lodged itself into his mind, insistent enough to become the only thing he would think about when waking up in the middle of the night, staring at the ceiling.
when he stepped a little closer to the edge of the stage, stealing another glance in your direction, he noticed your hair seemed to be almost the same shade.
that was when he went slightly off-key for the first time in a long while — enough to make his bandmates exchange quick, alert looks.
he needed to play.
he needed to do well tonight.
he needed to look at you one more time.
damn.
for a second, beomgyu compared himself to those rock band manwhores who didn’t think twice before taking advantage of any pretty girl in the crowd. the thought came crooked, almost cursed, and left a bitter taste in his mouth.
but he knew he wasn’t like that. he had never been. and most importantly, this wasn’t simply about finding someone pretty.
he was intrigued. deeply. and he couldn’t stop searching for your eyes every time he lifted his gaze from the guitar strings.
that was when he noticed the shift. the shy glances began to retreat, to flee, as if your body was trying to protect itself from something. it wasn’t hesitation anymore. it was overload.
too much.
was it the crowd? the volume?
the bridge of the song came. then the guitar solo.
like most musicians, beomgyu had always believed he played best what he truly felt. and lucky for the crowd, he really did love ''hold on till may''.
in that moment, under the audience’s eyes — and specifically under yours — beomgyu felt a strange urgency to make an impression.
he dropped to one knee, braced the guitar, and let his fingers do what they knew how to do.
and then he felt it.
something sweet. distinct.
not an obvious sweetness. not sugar. lighter, more alive. like a flower. something that lingered in the air and stayed.
for a moment, he thought the solo was getting to his head.
and then — click.
everything fell into place.
he knew what it was.
and he knew where it was coming from.
when the solo ended, he lifted his eyes, still charged with adrenaline, and found yours again.
in the three seconds of silence between the end of the guitar and the last verse, beomgyu murmured, slow enough for you to read his lips:
“don’t panic.”
he didn’t let himself get distracted again until the end of the song, except for the occasional glance at his own hand positioning on the guitar.
as if he feared you might collapse at any moment. or worse: as if, by looking away for too long, he might make you disappear forever.
beomgyu had no idea what to do. he needed to finish the song. he needed to help the girl who, apparently, had just fucking presented right in front of his eyes. in the middle of a packed rock house, too loud for any kind of care.
the girl who — if he wasn’t losing his mind, and he really hoped he wasn’t — had presented because of him. for him.
because what you had felt, what existed between you that night, definitely wasn’t normal.
it was a fated mate bond.
in that moment, he had the impression that his own heart was beating louder and faster than the drums behind him.
when the song ended, he cast a longer look at his guitar, as if he needed to anchor himself to something real. when he lifted his eyes again, searching for you in the crowd, he felt his heart drop.
where did you go?
“of course you made the right decision!” soobin exclaimed, slightly muffled by the bread in his mouth and maybe just a little too loud for the main campus library’s standards. “sorry,” he added right after, lowering his voice and shooting a quick glance at taehyun, who sat beside him at the round table, his face almost entirely hidden behind a technical book so thick it looked like it had been printed solely to intimidate anyone who dared to open it. the brunet didn’t seem bothered, far too focused on the pages.
today, the three of you were doing something that, by now, wasn’t all that unusual: having lunch hidden inside the library to keep taehyun company. as an electrical engineering major, he often had to spend hours and hours there, whether to use specific software that only worked on campus computers or to consult technical manuals and academic articles unavailable outside the university network. sometimes they were neatly organized books, full of well-printed graphs and diagrams. most of the time, though, taehyun was hunched over stacks of scribbled papers, hand-drawn circuits, and notebooks so worn they looked like they had survived at least three consecutive mental breakdowns.
“i know,” you sighed heavily, closing your eyes. “i just don’t know if i’ve prepared myself enough to have this conversation.” you took another bite of the homemade sandwich you had prepared earlier that morning.
the truth was that, lately, you didn’t know anything.
you tried not to prepare too much for anything at all, as if you no longer trusted how you would react to situations that once had been perfectly under your control.
you weren’t even sure who you really were anymore.
if you were still you, the way you had always been. the way you had always existed…
or if you were this wolf. this stranger now living under your skin, with needs three times bigger than the ones you used to have.
and what if, in the end, your truth had always been that wolf?
like, all of this was still so new to you.
and then there was him too! my god.
he made everything so much harder.
with the way he made your chest tighten, your palms sweat, and your wolf whimper like a frightened puppy.
you didn’t know that much about beomgyu beyond what you and your friends had found out in the past few weeks: that he was twenty-three, studied at the same university as you, was the guitarist in a band relatively popular among the city’s alternative youth — and that he was always playing in the most questionable places possible, like old church basements, abandoned warehouses promoted only through instagram and word of mouth, or thrift stores that shoved the racks to the side to make room for an improvised stage. you also knew he had filled in a few times for your and soobin’s league of legends team, since he and soobin had some mutual acquaintances, though he never joined voice chat; he preferred typing dry calls in the chat and obsessively pinging the map as if that were language enough.
and you know what made it all even scarier? in case that hadn’t been obvious enough already: beomgyu was completely, head to toe, entirely your type.
the slightly long black hair, falling messily around his face. the loose jeans, always worn in the right places. the simple t-shirt, sometimes hidden under a dark flannel or a hoodie that looked just a little too big on him. the rings on his fingers matching the completely chipped black nail polish. the relaxed way he leaned into himself, the battered converse, like he was never trying too hard — even when he clearly was. and unfortunately, it worked.
beomgyu was ridiculously attractive, and you felt it in your bones every time you thought about him. it was a little intimidating, even.
how could the idea that all of that had been biologically meant for you not terrify you?
“and that’s okay,” soobin continued, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts. “he seemed calm about all this when he asked to talk, right?” you nodded. “see? it’ll be fine. besides, this is the kind of conversation you can’t really keep postponing. it’s important for you two.”
you nodded again, glancing down at the floor where your feet were bouncing anxiously under the table.
‘you two.’
it was the first time you heard someone place you and beomgyu like that in a sentence. as a unit. as two parts of the same thing. something that required attention.
it was the first time you allowed yourself to think that way, too.
“if you want, we can walk you there,” taehyun suggested, finally lifting his head from the massive book and scattered notes just to take a sip from his juice box. “did he suggest a place?”
“well, actually, he said he was coming…”
and then you felt it before you smelled it.
and you smelled it before you saw him.
and that was still bizarre to you.
“yeah, we can escort you there in style and then leave,” soobin continued, immediately agreeing with taehyun. “just to send this guy a subliminal message. me being a beta doesn’t make my fist work any less than his.”
you tried to disguise your hurried glances, sweeping the library in nearly every possible direction. between books, tables, and shelves, it didn’t take long to notice a silhouette moving behind the large wooden bookcase right next to where you were sitting.
the movement stopped.
right beside you.
two long, slender fingers parted the space between two books at eye level, revealing dark, slightly tired eyes staring straight at you — partially hidden by black strands falling over his forehead.
you almost spat the water back into your bottle.
“relax, hyung. no need to turn this into a movie” taehyun said, completely unaware that, on the other side of the table, you had just recovered from a mini heart attack.
“there are a lot of disgusting alphas in this world, you know!” soobin shot back, lowering his voice. “i don’t think beomgyu is one of them. he just seems like a nerdy emo who won the secondary sex lottery… but better safe than sorry.”
“uhm… hi.”
the voice came from behind the beta. a little too deep to be casual, too awkward to be confident. beomgyu had just rounded the shelf after finally locating the group… and stopped exactly behind soobin’s chair.
for a moment, the only audible sound in that corner of the library was taehyun’s grape juice box being emptied far too quickly to be natural.
“…hey” soobin broke the silence, his voice cracking slightly mid-greeting after being caught red-handed.
you didn’t know how you hadn’t dug a hole in the floor to shove your face into yet.
“what’s up?” taehyun followed, automatically shifting his gaze to you as if to say, ‘your turn’.
you pulled in a short breath and lifted your eyes to the alpha now standing among you.
“h-hi!”
oh my god.
why couldn’t you just stop stuttering around him? your pride had been in shambles since morning.
beomgyu held your gaze almost immediately. in fact, his eyes had already been on you a moment before, too attentive, as if anxiously waiting to hear your voice for the second time that day.
“we can talk later if you’re busy,” he continued, choosing each word carefully, like he was walking a tightrope. he didn’t know how much he was, or wasn’t, allowed to imply there, so close to your friends. after all, this still seemed to be a sensitive topic for you. “i only have another class in a few hours. i can just practice until then.”
“oh, no!” you rushed to answer. “it’s fine. now’s good.”
you were already standing as you spoke, gathering your things in a hurry and stuffing the half-eaten sandwich — the one you knew you’d never finish — back into your lunchbox.
taehyun and soobin simply watched in silence, exchanging a quick look. there was a quiet concern there.
when you finished packing and slung your backpack over your shoulders, you let out a contained sigh, glancing toward the back of the room for a moment, as if gathering courage.
“all set, let’s go” you said, turning back toward the boys. “see you later, guys.”
“later” the betas replied in unison, watching as the omega began to walk away, a little too quickly to pass as natural.
beomgyu offered them a slightly crooked, clearly out-of-place smile and a brief wave before following right behind you, adjusting his pace to match yours.
it was embarrassing to realize that, out of nowhere, your own brain seemed to be conspiring against you. not with specific images, not with vivid memories, but with that uncomfortable, diffuse sensation of everything that had changed in the past few days, of everything your body had learned far too quickly. and it all rose back to the surface right now, with beomgyu just a few inches away, casually asking how the rest of your morning had been and taking an absentminded sip from his can of sprite, sitting beside you on the small bench in the university’s front lawn.
you sincerely hoped mates didn’t have any absurd ability like mind reading. because at this point, it felt entirely plausible that the universe would decide to add yet another bizarre rule to the list.
“want some?” he asked, tilting the can toward you.
the simple gesture made you lift your eyes to him again, hesitant, as if eye contact was still something that needed to be rationed carefully.
“oh, no. but thank you.” you liked to believe you sounded calm. casual. in control. in reality, you were just clinging to that fantasy with conviction.
beomgyu was nervous too, that much was obvious. but the thick tension building between you was starting to bother him in a different way, almost physical. and that was even though it had been, at most, two minutes since you had sat down.
he set the can beside the bench and shifted, turning his body toward you and resting one knee on the wood.
“y/n.” he called, making a conscious effort to keep his voice as gentle as possible.
you looked up immediately.
“could you turn toward me, please?” he asked carefully. it wasn’t an order, nor did it sound like a demand — more like an insecure invitation.
“…of course.” you hesitated for a second before obeying, turning your torso toward him but keeping your legs still pointed toward the ground, as if you needed an escape route.
“i think this is better.” beomgyu let out a small, awkward laugh, trying to lighten the weight of the moment.
you nodded slightly in agreement, though your eyes still flickered cautiously between his face and the grass visible through the gaps in the wooden bench.
“i don’t think i had time to explain how i know your name, right.” the alpha continued, taking the initiative to guide the conversation. “i’ll say in advance that… it’s nothing scary. or weird. well, actually, that depends on how weird you think it is.” he paused briefly, swallowing, clearly reconsidering his wording.
you lifted your gaze with attention.
“after that day, when i looked for you everywhere and couldn’t find you again, i went home kind of restless.” he scratched the back of his neck, an automatic gesture. “and i ended up doing the only thing i could without… i don’t know, actually invading your life. i texted some friends, checked social media, pages from around the city, the university, cafes, venues… anywhere that made sense for you to go.”
he took a deep breath before continuing.
“until i checked the club’s account updates and saw a story reposted from one of your friends, tagging you and a few other people.” he gave a half-smile, almost guilty. “that’s how i found out your name.”
“oh, right…” you blinked, processing.
“at the time i couldn’t find out much more than that.” he hurried to add. “and i didn’t want to follow you out of nowhere or start a conversation, because i had no idea what you thought of me. or of all that. so… i left it at that.” he shrugged. “after that, a few friends from the university mentioned some basic things too. nothing major.”
“like what?” you asked, genuinely curious.
the question caught him off guard.
“oh.” beomgyu let out a short, nervous laugh. “your major, your age, who you hang out with, where you’re from… that kind of thing.” he looked at you, apprehensive. “was that weird? because if it was, i’m sorry. seriously.”
you felt your shoulders relax almost without noticing. there was something genuinely comical about the alpha’s concern. and, more importantly, something honest.
“without context, maybe a little.” the corner of your mouth lifted in a small smile. “but… given the situation, i think it’s understandable.”
beomgyu released the breath he seemed to have been holding since the start of the conversation, a soft chuckle slipping out right after.
“that’s good to hear.” he said, meeting the big, attentive eyes in front of him and feeling his heart beat a little faster than it should.
then he felt his throat tingle.
the words weighed on the tip of his tongue, insistent, and before he could rethink what he was about to ask — or how exposed it would leave him — he simply opened his mouth and let them out:
“did you… look for me too?”
your mind, which had finally begun to settle into the interaction, went blank again.
you felt completely defenseless under beomgyu’s steady, attentive gaze, the way he seemed to be waiting for an answer.
still, you forced yourself to speak.
“to be honest…” you began slowly, “i spent the last few days trying to do anything but that.”
the effect was immediate. he seemed to deflate entirely.
“b-but that has nothing to do with you! at all.” you rushed to clarify, realizing too late how it must have sounded. the alpha’s discomfort was almost tangible now, his eyes fixed on you, urgent, asking for an explanation to ease the sudden knot in his chest.
you sighed, looking down at the ground.
“it was just… hard, you know?” you confessed. “dealing with everything.” you swallowed. “i’ve never felt anything like this before. never gone through anything like it.” you hesitated. “i think i just wanted to do some kind of… damage control.”
the corner of your mouth curved without humor.
“and it’s not like it worked very well.” you murmured. “not thinking about you.” you realized how cheesy that sounded too late and added, awkwardly, “and about everything that happened, i mean…”
beomgyu’s expression, once tense with worry, softened gradually as you spoke. there was something almost careful in the way he listened, as if every word you said mattered more than he let on.
you squeezed your knee through the fabric of your pants, the small gesture betraying the turmoil inside you. there was so much more to say. too much. too many thoughts.
but no. that would be too much.
beomgyu seemed to sense the silent chaos and still didn’t want to let the topic slip away. his voice came out calm, almost harmless, when he asked:
“…never felt anything like what?”
“well, it’s just that…” you continued, tucking your hair behind your ear with nervous fingers. “being an omega is kind of different from being a beta, right.” you forced a shy little laugh, shooting him a quick glance — only to find his gaze still fixed on you, attentive, curious about absolutely everything you had to say.
was it really just curiosity?
“hm, yeah.” beomgyu agreed. “but, like… how different?”
you shivered. there was something in that question that asked for more. more detail. more truth.
“i-i think your senses get more sensitive in general.” you continued, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of being a little lamb sitting beside a hungry wolf — even if that wolf was clearly trying very hard to be polite, calm, normal. “i also didn’t used to be so… influenced by emotions. and sensations. and thoughts.”
the words came out as you fought yourself, trying to push away memories that swarmed your mind like a plague. a plague that, in that moment, seemed to feed on the alpha’s scent beside you and the constant weight of his attention.
“i guess that makes sense.” beomgyu said at last.
he drew in a breath, pulling back for a moment, even though he hadn’t moved a single inch on the bench. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. but now he feared he might have gotten a little too carried away with the questions.
he couldn’t help it, though.
he wanted to know more. to understand. to know about you, about how your presenting had been, whether you had been okay, whether you had suffered, whether you had needed someone.
whether you had needed him.
you noticed his shoulders lose some of their tension, his gaze drifting away briefly.
“i’m sorry for leaving like that that day.” you said then, sincerely. “it wasn’t my intention to just disappear.” you took a deep breath. “if i’d been in a better headspace, i think… maybe i would’ve even worked up the courage to talk to you eventually.” you offered a small smile. “even with you looking all cool up there on stage and everything.”
beomgyu’s heart warmed instantly.
he smiled without meaning to.
“it’s okay.” he replied. “like i said, i figured it must’ve been complicated for you to stay there at that moment.” he tilted his head slightly. “it wouldn’t have been good in the long run. i’m glad your friends noticed that too.”
“yeah.” you nodded. “they got me out of there. then taehyun, the one with brown hair from the library, took me home.” you explained. “at first everything was calm. it only started getting harder later. with the symptoms and all.”
“but was it really bad?” beomgyu asked immediately, the restlessness returning to his body like a shock. “uncomfortable? painful?” he straightened. “wasn’t there anyone around? someone who could help you if you needed something?”
“most of the time it was like a really persistent fever.” you answered, remembering two weeks ago like it was another life. “like my body was… adjusting to everything.” you swallowed. “after it got more used to it, it turned into something else. more about need, maybe.” you hesitated. “b-but it didn’t last that long. it was actually pretty quick. so i managed it myself.”
beomgyu opened his mouth to say something.
“but i’m fine now!” you rushed to add, closing the topic.
he shut his mouth immediately, swallowing the saliva that had suddenly gathered.
what did you mean by that?
probably nothing.
probably he was just projecting — like the proper maniac he felt he was becoming lately.
by then, the signs of late afternoon were beginning to take over the campus. the autumn sky darkened earlier than usual, tinted in bluish and lilac hues, while the flow of students gradually increased along the stone paths. the walkway lamps flickered on one by one, soft.
“ah… okay then.” beomgyu said, disguising his thoughts with a light tone. “but, y/n…”
“hm?” you murmured, lifting your eyes again. there was something different in his now, a new shine that didn’t come from the freshly lit lamps.
“i just wanted to make my intentions clear with you. to be fair.”
“oh… right.” you replied, even though you didn’t fully understand where he was going. “go ahead.”
“okay.” beomgyu moistened his lips, choosing his words carefully. “i want you to see me as someone you can rely on. someone trustworthy. who’ll be here if you need anything. seriously.”
you opened your mouth to protest, already feeling embarrassment creep up at the sudden seriousness. but he didn’t let you interrupt.
“and more than that,” he continued, voice firm, “i want you to see me as a potential mate.” he said it calmly, as if there were no doubt in his mind. because there wasn’t. “not because this was… granted by fate or anything.” he made a small gesture with his hand. “i mean, sure, all of this exists, it’s big, it matters. but that doesn’t mean you’re obligated to anything. not to stay with me, not to see me that way.”
you nodded slowly, trying to keep up while still processing everything.
“if you end up liking me,” he went on, “and seeing me like that, i want it to be because i earned it.” his eyes never left yours. “i think you’re too good to be treated like something guaranteed. by me or anyone else.”
your breath caught for a moment. you didn’t even know where to begin answering, when beomgyu seemed to remember one more thing, and decided to throw it in without hesitation.
“oh, and besides all that,” he added casually, “even without this mate bond thing… from the moment i saw you, i genuinely thought you were fucking beautiful.” he confessed without stumbling over a single word. “you’re so cute and kind, and your eyes, the way you look at things, the way you look at me, it kind of melts me alive.” he gave a half-smile. “i want to get closer to you. talk. share things we have in common, like liking emo bands, cause you like them right?’’ you nodded enthusiastically, earning a grin from him “seemed so. and… games, and music in general. and, with luck, a bunch of other things too.”
when he finished, he looked slightly flushed. lightly biting his lower lip as he waited for your response.
“i think…” you began, feeling your heart beat too fast. “i also want to get closer to you, beomgyu.” you said his name out loud for the first time. he liked the way it sounded probably a little more than he should. “i want to get to know you better. and feel more comfortable around you. you seem really nice.”
you paused briefly before adding, almost in a whisper:
“and… you’re very attractive too. really.”
beomgyu noticed the shy way you looked away right after. he couldn’t hold back the satisfied smirk that slipped onto his lips — small, restrained, but warm underneath.
“thank you very much, miss.” he replied playfully, clearly allowing himself to savor the approval. “well then! i guess what i said starts counting now.” he stood up from the bench and held out his hand to you. “it’s getting dark, and i have to go soon. can i grab my things and walk you home?”
“i-i’d really appreciate that.” you answered, taking his hand to stand up.
it was only then that you realized: you had never touched beomgyu before.
and you realized something else later, when you got home.
his scent had lingered.
caught on your skin, exactly where his fingers had touched your hand. a subtle mix of that warm and comforting leather scent, with that sweet, deep undertone. like dark vanilla.
yeah, dark vanilla. it wasn’t too strong. it wasn’t invasive. it was just… him.
that night, you found it strangely comforting to sleep with that hand curled near your face, pressed into the pillow.
and, for the first time in weeks, you felt like you truly managed to rest.
Obs.: Perhaps there will be mischaracterization for entertainment purposes; Nothing to declare this time, I hope you guys like the idea and concept, if any errors in coherence forgive me!
Cross's genes are slightly affected, causing the "Old Man" to have little to no control over any Cross-related children. He then uses their eyes as windows. Pretty silly, right?
Fatal Error/Towne belongs to @/fatal-error-blog // @/xedramon
summary: you and hollis finally get “alone” time in the hotel room as you think the boys are grabbing something to eat, turns out roman forgets his jacket in you and hollis hotel room…..
Hollis decided to bring you on tour. You had been one of his biggest supporters from the very start. always believing in him, always showing up to his shows when he was opening for bigger artists. You were there when people booed him, so why not tag along now that he was on tour?
You and Hollis shared a room, but that didn’t mean you always had time alone. The boys were constantly crashing in your room, sleeping, messing around, never giving you guys a moment to yourselves. But tonight was different. The boys left to pick up food downtown, leaving just you and Hollis in the hotel room, curled up together and watching a movie.
You were rubbing your hands up and down his bare chest, subtly signaling to Hollis. When your hand drifted a little too low, he caught it, clearly feeling the same way you did. He leaned in, pressing soft kisses along your neck and whispered, “I missed this… I missed all of you,” while gently grabbing your neck and trailing more kisses down to your chest.
“Hollis…” you moaned softly, barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, baby? What do you need? Tell me,” he spoke softly.
“Holli… I need… I need you,” you whispered. That was all he needed to hear. His lips moved down to your clothed breasts as he looked up at you, seeking reassurance and permission. You nodded slightly and helped him remove your tiny tank top and lacy bra. He groaned at the sight of your bare breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth and gently sucking while you reached down, rubbing yourself through your wet pants.
“Fuck… these tits y/n…I’ve been waiting for this,” He spoke, moving back and forth between your breasts as you let out soft moans. You tugged at his pants, and he helped you pull them off, leaving him in just his boxers. The sight made the wet spot on your shorts even more obvious. He kissed down your stomach, slowly making his way to your damp-ish shorts. Gently, he pulled them off along with your panties and pressed kisses to your inner thighs.
All mine… all wet… look at you,” Hollis said with a smirk, admiring your wet pussy. He kissed your clit and started sucking gently while you ran your hands through his hair, letting out soft noises.
“That’s right, baby… so wet for me. Feels good, huh?” Hollis praised, licking and sucking your clit. When you tugged harder on his hair, hinting that you were close but unable to say it in words, he stopped and pulled down his boxers pumping his dick a few times before he lines your entrance up with his dick
“is this okay baby?ur so good for me, ur gonna take this dick okay?” hollis reassures you as you nod ur head aggressively. “yes holli…. ill be so good for you” you say practically begging for it.
with that permission he slides it in, immediately groaning and putting his hands on ur waist looking down at you as he starts to move. you guys get lost in the moment, hollis praising you, kissing you, you squirming and drunk from his dick.
You guys don’t hear the knock. It’s Roman, he forgot his jacket in the room as he and the boys were leaving to get food, so he went back upstairs to grab it. He opens the door and walks in, only to see the sight of Hollis on top of you, your legs spread as Hollis is deep into you, thrusting into you. the room is filled with moans
He immediately gets hard at the sight, trying to speak up but caught between shock, and horniness. He stands there for a moment before rubbing himself slightly through his pants just before you notice him.
“R-Roman???” you gasp, trying to cover your bare tits. Hollis looks over and smirks slightly. “Ignore him, baby. Keep being good for me, yeah? Take this dick.”
Hollis groans while speeding up, hitting every right spot. Roman moves closer to you, glancing up at Hollis for permission. Hollis smirks and nods. Roman reaches out and rubs your clit. “you’re so wet for us huh?” Roman says, your eyes immediately widen, but you melt into it.
“Just like that, Hollis… fuck… Roman, go faster.”
With Roman’s other hand, he pushes down his pants and jerks himself off, still pleasing you while rubbing your clit. “You like that? Tell me, do you like that?” Roman says, going faster.
“Yes… yes, Roman, I love that,” you moan, feeling yourself growing closer.
“Look at you taking all of this… mm, such a good girl,” Hollis groans, his dick twitching inside you as he watches you get pleasured. Roman almost cums at the sight of you. sweaty, mouth open, tits bouncing.
Your free hand goes down to Roman’s hard dick, taking him in your hand as you pump him. Hollis feels you getting closer as you clench around him. He speeds up his pace while Roman continues praising you.
“You’re taking it so good, mama… and that pushes you over the edge.
“Holli… gonna… gonna cum,” you slur, your moans barely escaping as you move your hand faster on Roman’s dick, feeling him getting closer in your hand.
“There you go, let it out for us, c’mon baby,” Hollis encourages, tilting his head back, feeling himself getting closer too, the tightness of your pussy squeezing him. That’s all he had to say. both of you break at once. You’re a moaning, crying mess as you release on his dick, Hollis still praising you, while you jerk off his friend beside you. Roman’s dick twitches in your hand as he releases all over you. The room fills with gasps and moans.
Hollis pulls out, and Roman whispers, “You did so good for us,” pressing a kiss to your forehead. He slides his pants back on and heads toward the door, looking back and nodding at Hollis.
After Roman leaves, you and Hollis clean up, and you pause, realizing what just happened. Hollis notices.
“What, baby? What’s wrong?” he asks, running his hands through your hair and pushing it away from your face.
“What was that about? Why did you let him join in? I mean, I kinda liked it… but this stays between us,” you say, embarrassed and humiliated.
That makes Hollis smirk as he grabs his phone from the side table. Two missed messages all from Ryan and Nate.
“When is it my turn?” is all it reads.
You freeze, imagining what that could mean. Hollis leans close, lips brushing your ear, whispering, “ looks like we’ve got some decisions to make” he smirks.
