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can't you see what you're doing to me

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You’re watching the show in the wings; even though the tour kicked off some days ago and this isn’t the first date you’re attending, seeing Tim rock and roll on stage makes you immensely happy. He gives all he’s got and you see in his eyes that he loves doing it. Music is his destiny, it’s clear; Shotgun Messiah is still a small band, but your boyfriend is bound to go far, you’re positive about that.

The show went amazing. The audience had the time of their life; Tim waves goodbye, grabs some of their fans’ hands in the first rows, and then heads backstage with the other boys. You smile as big as you can as he walks towards you, because you’re so proud of him, so proud of how much work and passion he’s putting into this whole thing, and you can’t wait for him to be close enough so you can pull him in a tight hug and tell him he was so good tonight and…

Tim walks past you and doesn’t even look at you. You’re confused, to put it mildly. Right behind him, Harry stops by and says hi, kissing you on the cheek. He still looks hyper from the show. You smile at him and praise his performance; he agrees that it was a wonderful concert.


Tim’s nowhere to be found. You look for him everywhere in the backstage, in the dressing rooms, outside, even in the showers. Concern starts taking over any sentiment of disappointment and resentment you had before, because Tim doesn’t usually act this way, and you’re worried something bad has happened or that he doesn’t feel well. Which is when you finally find him, leaning on the wall of an aisle you’ve walked down like ten times in the past twenty minutes.

He’s smoking a cigarette, blatantly ignoring the no smoking sign a few steps from him, a foot on the wall behind him. He doesn’t look like he doesn’t feel well.

“Tim, what’s wrong with you?” you ask, exasperated.

“Oh, nothing,” he says, not looking at you, attention focused on his cigarette as he takes it off his mouth to breathe out the smoke. “I’m fine.”

“You’re fine?!” He stays calm as he takes the last drag and then drops the butt on the ground, stomping it. “You ignored me and then disappeared, and you tell me you’re fine?”

Which is when Tim raises his eyes and glares at you. He looks like he means business. That dark shadow in his blue eyes almost scares you, the way his lips are closed shut, his jaw tight. Admittedly, it’s a bit sexy, but you try to push the thought away. It may be inappropriate now.

Tim sighs and raises an eyebrow.

“Actually, there’s something we should talk about.”

You cross your arms on your chest, both defensive and defiant somehow.

“Okay. Tell me then,” your voice gives your frustration away, but Tim has no intention of giving in to your provocations.

“Not here,” he says, voice low, pointing at the closed door behind you with his eyes.


Tim locks the door behind you, and in three seconds you’re between him and the wall, his knee between your thighs and your wrist tight in his fist, close to your face. You breathe heavily.

“I can’t tell whether you’re playing dumb, love, or if you’re really so naive,” he growls. Somehow, you’re more turned on than scared. But again, it’s inappropriate.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, keeping your eyes on his, unwilling to show him any fear. You struggle against his grip on your wrist and he lets go.



You raise your brows, confused.

“Ever since the tour started you’ve been talking to him… been smiling to him, been touching him a little too much,” Tim adds.

“But it ain’t –”

“I think he has a crush on you.”

Oh. So that’s what it’s all about.

You can’t help but be relieved. As much as you care about Harry, he doesn’t stand a chance.


“Do you even know how it makes me feel?” he says, mouth dangerously close to yours, hot breath on your lips. “Do you know how mad it makes me? You’re mine, love. Only mine. What do I have to do to make you understand?”

Your eyes roll back in pleasure. You’ve never been this horny in your life.

“Fuck me, Tim. Make me yours,” your voice is an octave higher than normal, but you can’t help it.

“Looks like I have no choice,” he says, and he almost sounds sorry, as if it’s a painful decision to make. You swallow hard.

He keeps his eyes on the buttons of your shirt as he undoes them, one by one, so slow it’s almost frustrating. He takes it off and starts running his fingers on your arm, gently, slowly. He steps back to take you in. You shiver.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, “of course other men want you. But…” he moves close to you again, trapping you between him and the wall. He starts kissing your neck and you close your eyes at the feeling. He’s sweet at first, but then he begins to suck vehemently and bite at your flesh. He puts a hand on the crotch of your jeans, keeping your legs spread with his knee. You moan slightly.

“…no one else can have this cute little pussy. It’s mine. Property of my cock. Only for me.”

You don’t know how you still haven’t come, honestly, considering he started massaging your clit with his thumb through your jeans. You’ve always been weak for his manly hands. It’s an automatic thing when you start rocking your hips in his hand to get more friction, but Tim keeps you still and unbuttons your pants, taking them off.

“And tell me,” he locks eyes with you, “is there anyone else who knows your body -,” and he sticks two fingers in you as he talks, easily since you’re so fucking wet. You gasp from the shock and the immediate pleasure he gives you. “- so well?”

You whine in response, but it isn’t enough of an answer for Tim.

“I asked you something.”

“N-No Tim… no one.”

“Good,” he says, pushing his fingers inside you just once before pulling them out and undoing his pants. Your mouth waters already.

He’s already fully hard when he puts his dick out. You’ll die if he doesn’t fuck you right now.

You don’t really know how this happened but you find yourself with your legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck and back against the wall.

“I wanna know if anyone else can make you feel good -,” he stops, growling low when his whole cock is inside, fast. “- like I can.”

He starts fucking you vehemently on the spot, banging you against the wall every time he pushes into you, only to draw back and then thrust in again, and it’s almost too much too soon. You throw your head to the side while he keeps this ridiculous rhythm, and Tim takes the opportunity to plant another kiss on your neck.

“Mine,” he whispers in your ear. The guttural sounds he makes are music for your ears.

“Oh my god,” is all you manage to pant, and it’s like Tim suddenly remembers that he’s fucking you for a reason, because he’s baring teeth, feral, and he’s fucking you even harder, if possible. You can’t really help yourself at this point, so you scream his name, bracing on his broad shoulders.

“Yeah, love… good girl… fuck,” he pants, his hands firmly on your hips to keep you still while he destroys your pussy. You never saw him like this before. The idea that you made him lose his mind like this, as well as the fact that Tim just can’t seem to chill, is enough to make you come. You scream his name again, twice, and you think everyone will hear you but you don’t really care because Tim wants the world to know you’re his, after all.

“I’m yours,” you say, eventually, voice trembling, and Tim comes at these words. You feel his hot cum inside you after his rhythm became uncoordinated, messy. He spills every drop he has inside of you and makes sure it stays in you as long as possible.

Then Tim pulls out and lets you down, finally on your own feet. His thick liquid runs down your thigh.

You’re still very close to him, you can see how his sweat sticks his blonde curls to his forehead and to the sides of his face.

When you both come down, you finally kind of snap back to reality and remember why you’re here. You decide that the problem can’t stay unsolved.

You take his cheek in your hand, gently.

“Tim,” you kiss him on the lips before continuing, “why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t… I don’t know. I thought it was stupid so I played it cool, until I snapped. Sorry. I acted like an asshole.”

“It’s fine,” you smile; a smile that turns from reassuring to malicious almost instantly. “If you’re gonna fuck me like an animal every time you get jealous, I’m gonna start doing it on purpose.”

“Oh yeah?” he says, a playful smile on his face. “It won’t be necessary. If you really wanna be fucked like this, just ask.”