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rafesangelita · 1 month ago

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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ when farmer’s!daughter!reader’s father goes out of town to visit some family, her and cowboy!rafe can’t keep their hands to themselves any longer.

warnings: reader is a little bit on the shy side, flirty banter, use of petnames, implied age gap (rafe is 7-10 years older), hint of jealous!rafe, reader refers to her father as ‘daddy’, mentions of sneaking around, slowburn (kinda?), lotsss of sexual tension, fluff, mutual pining, oral (f. receiving), fingering, finger sucking, unprotected sex, dirty talk, breeding kink, cream pie, squirting, multiple orgasms

a/n: based loosely off of the moodboard + headcanons i wrote here <3 saddle up because this is a long one lol

wc: 4.8k

“you gonna keep staring at me or are you gonna help me out here?” rafe grunted, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he watched you blink away from his form. you looked up from his shirtless figure, his skin glistening with sweat as butterflies fluttered in your chest. “what do you need?” you chirped, blinking rapidly as if to shake away the thoughts of pressing wet kisses to his waistline. “a cold glass of water sounds good right now.” you obliged, rafe watching as you went up the porch stairs in your cute little boots, his eyes falling down to your backside. “fuck.” he muttered to himself.

if he knew he’d have to fight the urge to touch his boss’s pretty daughter, he would’ve hesitated in taking the job. eight months had felt like an eternity when you pranced around the farm in the prettiest dresses and shortest daisy duke shorts he’s ever seen. you came back with a glass of water, taking a sip before handing it to him. expecting rafe to turn the glass around to take a drink from the other side of the rim, your cheeks heated when he placed his mouth on the same spot your lips were on just moments ago. “thanks, sweetheart.” rafe shot you a wink, his charm making you look away shyly.

you plopped down on a nearby tree stump, a pout taking over your features as you looked at the empty driveway. your father had only been gone for a few hours, not nearly making a dent in the five days he’ll be away. “you don’t have to worry about him, y’know? he’s a strong man.” rafe decided he needed a break from being hunched over under the hood of his truck, his chest rising and falling as he took a seat on the bed of fluffy grass next to you. “i know..” you muttered, “it’s just— he’s so much older now, i worry about him.” you looked down at rafe, his eyes already trained on you.

rafe nodded. “that man can survive anything. wasn’t he in his truck when a tornado came and swept him off the ground?” you gasped, a laugh escaping your lips. “he told you that story?!” you squealed excitedly, your reaction making rafe melt into a puddle of nothing. you were too cute. “did he also tell you the part where that didn’t really happen? him and his buddy just got real close to it.” rafe’s face morphed into one of pure shock. “he lied?!” you threw your head back in laughter, a snort following shortly after. it was rafe’s turn to laugh, the sound unfamiliar to his ears.

“oh my god, excuse me. i can’t believe i just did that!” you clasped a hand over your mouth, embarrassment creeping up onto your face. the man next to you waved you off. “why would he lie about that?” rafe leaned back on his hands, giving you a full view of his chiseled abs. sighing dreamily, you shrugged. “he’s a drama queen sometimes, he likes the theatrics.” realizing that you just swooned over his muscles, rafe cleared his throat before getting back to work. he respected your father too much to give in to his filthy desires, or so he hoped.

swallowing the lump of rejection in your throat, you made your way inside where you decided to watch him from your bedroom window instead. your infatuation with this man only grew by the day, and it was becoming really hard to hide your adoration for him. all the times he slipped you a little wink when your father wasn’t looking, the playing of footsies under the table while your father ranted about the economy, the lingering stares and touches.. you weren’t crazy, you had every right to believe this man was interested in you in some way, shape, or form.

apart of you wanted to believe that rafe was trying to maintain in being a gentleman towards you, but there’s nothing you wanted more than for him to hold off all kind of honor and respect for you while he takes you however he wants. you daydreamed about being fucked in a headlock by him, along with being put into twenty other positions. letting out a sigh, you fell back on your bed, fiddling with the ribbon that was tied to the belt loop of your shorts. how on earth were you going to go about these next few days all alone with him?

night time rolled around, and rafe had just come inside for a shower. “are you hungry?” you watched as he rolled his shoulders back, cracking his neck to release some pressure of today’s labor. “yeah, but i’ll help myself. don’t worry about it, ‘sugar.” he groaned before shutting the bathroom door behind him. you knew he wouldn’t, days like this always ended in rafe knocking out as soon as he hit his bed, empty stomach or not. the only thing rafe could think about as the hot water pattered against his back, was how you were in the same house as him in nothing but a night dress.

he wondered if you’d let him hike it up your thighs.. if you’d allow him to slip his fingers underneath the soft material. so badly, he wanted to see your face twist in pleasure underneath him, he ached to see that day. rafe let out a shuddering breath, swallowing thickly as lewd images of you ran through his head. he imagined your hands trailing down his torso, those cherry red painted fingers of yours wrapped tightly around his cock. you had this man questioning everything he ever knew about being a gentlman. rafe rubbed the sides of his face, his eyes screwing shut as he attempted to get all inappropriate thoughts about you out of his head.

he remembered seeing you for the first time all those months ago. you were wearing a red gingham dress, your hair styled so pretty and neat. he knew immediately that he was in trouble when you flashed him that million dollar smile when your father introduced you two. it wasn’t long before both of you started flirting with each other, even going as far as touching each other when you didn’t have to. rafe would ‘help’ you up on your horse, his hands planted on the globes of your ass as he hoisted you onto the saddle. he swore he died and came back to life whenever you’d place a hand on him every time he made you laugh.

slowly but surely, you two were getting more bolder with your moves. while rafe was ogling your goodies more often than not, you started leaving your curtains open whenever you’d change, knowing he could see you from the view of his window. pinching the bridge of his nose, rafe quickly hurried up in the shower, feeling the need to relieve himself in his own space where he knew you’d be far away from. after washing away all the dirt and grime, he felt clean as he dried himself off, only for his peace to come crashing down when he realized he didn’t bring an extra change of clothes with him.

with no other choice but to walk out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, he tried to sneak pass you in the kitchen and out the back door, but of course he wasn’t so lucky. “i know you said you would make yourself something, but—” you turned around with a loaded dinner plate in your hand, the dish nearly slipping out of your grip when you saw the tall cowboy standing awkwardly with his hands on his hips.

your eyes trailed down his stomach, the sight of his happy trail making you swallow thickly. rafe took note of this, his heart beating in his chest as you averted your gaze elsewhere. “uhm, well i made you this.. i know it’s one of your favorites..” you placed the plate of steak and mashed potatoes on the table, turning around as you took your bottom lip between your teeth. this was absolute torture. “it looks amazing, i’ll just get some clothes on and be right back.” he held onto the towel, jogging to his place where he slipped on a pair of pajama pants and a dingy white t-shirt.

“you didn’t have to do this,” rafe took a seat at the table, his jaw ticking when you bent over the counter to grab a couple of drinking glasses, “thank you.” at this point he didn’t know if he was thanking you for the food, or the perfect view of your ass. “water?” you looked at him from over your shoulder, your cheeks heating when you saw his eyes shoot away from your backside. “a beer please.” you smiled at his answer. you should’ve known he’d pick that out after a full day of work. grabbing a bottle from the fridge, you handed it to him, his fingers brushing yours as you took a seat across from him.

“my dad makes it a lot better than i do, so—” rafe was quick to cut you off, a moan leaving his lips as he chewed. “this is.. damn!” you giggled, shaking your head. “it’s great, darlin’. truly.” he nodded approvingly, flashing you a thumbs up. you smiled that smile of yours before tasting it yourself. despite all the tension between you two, you could always count on each other to talk the other’s ear off. “wait. so you’re telling me that you’re actually from an island? why on earth would you live out in the middle of nowhere when you had the beach in your backyard?” you asked incredulously.

rafe took a swig from his beer, a bittersweet laugh leaving his lips. “i got into a ‘lotta bad shit over there. i was on some bad shit,” he sighed, “being out here brings me peace.. even if i’m breaking my back everyday.” you listened closely, giving him your full attention as he told you more about the place he was from. you learned that he used to be a filthy rich boy with a house bigger than you could ever imagine. rafe smiled softly, a solemn expression taking over his features. “it’s very nice. but i wouldn’t go back.” he leaned back in his chair.

you tilted your head at him, both of your plates empty. “no? how come?” you leaned forward, your cleavage peeking out of your neckline. eyes flickering down to your chest, rafe seemed to get flustered when he felt your foot trail up his leg. “well,” he zeroed in on your lips, “i see myself settling down out here, ‘havin some little ones.” your breath hitched, a smidge of jealousy now residing in your gut. as if he could read your mind, he caught your foot under the table, his thumb stroking your ankle. “old habits seem to die hard, huh?” rafe laughed.

pushing away the jealousy, you nodded, feeling a new profound sense of confidence with the way he was looking at you right now. “yeah, i guess i forgot we’re here all by ourselves.. ‘don’t really have to hide from anyone..” you yawned, your head falling back on your chair as your night gown rode up your thighs. just a few inches higher, and rafe would finally see what he’s been fantasizing about all this time. “yeah..” he crossed his arms, his biceps looking especially good right now. you two stayed quiet, just looking at each other as if everything was threatening to rise to the surface.

do something! you thought to yourself, hoping rafe could magically hear you and grab you from across the table. instead, he looked away, letting go of your foot before scooting out from the table. “dinner was really good, but i better head off to bed, now.” he didn’t let you say anything before he left in a haste. what. the. fuck. you got up, watching him curse to himself from the kitchen window. you couldn’t help but feel defeated. rafe was always the one pulling away from you, no matter how close you two got, he always left you high and dry.

once you cleaned everything up, and you were left lying by yourself in your bed, you decided everything would change. if he pulled away from you, surely you should do the same.

you woke up the next morning to the sound of rafe’s truck engine roaring to life. rubbing your eyes, you shielded your face from the morning sun, deciding to get your day started as soon as possible. within an hour, you were stepping outside, walking over to where rafe was smiling brightly behind the steering wheel. “i got it working, sweetheart! should we go for a ride?” damn him, he knew how much you loved to be passenger princess in his two seater-beater. you cleared your throat, already hating yourself as you said no. “i don’t think so.. i got a lot of stuff to do today.”

rafe watched you go back in the house, his jaw ticking in response. the only thing you had to do today was sit and look pretty. not to mention, for as long as rafe has been here, you never, ever, rejected going on a little drive with him. that’s how he immediately knew something wasn’t right, and he’d bet all of his money that it had something to do with last night. taking the keys out of the ignition, rafe decided that if you weren’t going to go for a ride with him, then he wasn’t going either. considering he did everything he needed to do yesterday, rafe settled for going inside to tidy up his place.

you walked around the house aimlessly, a book in your hand as you kept glancing outside to see if you could spot rafe anywhere. you didn’t. letting out a groan, you looked at the clock on the wall. it was already half past noon. you debated on whether or not you should take him some lunch, your leg bouncing as you tried to weigh out your options here. on one hand, you could bring rafe lunch, try to talk some stuff out, and on the other hand, you could just leave things be like you promised yourself you would. you knew rafe wasn’t stupid, surely he’d catch on to you soon.

just as you decided against bothering him, there was a knock at the front door. eyebrows knitting in confusion, you opened the door to see your childhood best friend, wyatt. “wyatt!” you squealed, throwing your arms around him as he pulled you close to him by your waist. “oh my, lord! when did you come back from the city?!” you welcomed him in, motioning for him to come inside. “i just finished my second semester, so i’ll be in town for a while. i drove out here just last night, ‘decided to surprise my folks.” he smiled, his expression softening once you urged him to take a seat at the kitchen table.

“i didn’t see your old man’s truck out front..” he sat down, taking his hat off and placing it on the table. “oh, yeah.. he’s out of town visiting my aunt.” you leaned back on the counter, your eyes flickering at his hair. he looked so much different now. “wow, you’re uh— you look really good.” you complimented. “yeah, i’m not lanky anymore,” wyatt laughed, “you look gorgeous as always, though.” his gaze ran down your dress, the sight of your bare thighs making him clear his throat. “well, i didn’t just want to come by and say hi, i actually wanted to ask you something—”

rafe barged in before wyatt could finish his sentence.

“who’s this?” he stared between you two, the jealousy in his blue eyes very, very evident. you smiled innocently as wyatt got up, extending a hand for rafe to shake. “hello, sir. i’m an old friend of y/n’s here, ‘was just coming to visit her.” rafe looked down at wyatt’s palm, keeping both of his hands tucked in his pockets. “well, you two might wanna hurry this up, y/n’s father doesn’t know about any visitors coming to his home.” rafe walked around him, opening the fridge for a beer. “daddy isn’t home though, isn’t he?” you spoke up, in which rafe turned around. “what was that?” he asked.

you two were glaring at each other now. “my dad isn’t here,” you repeated, “and besides, he knows wyatt. ‘thinks of him as a son, right?” rafe’s grip on his beer bottle tightened, a smile playing on his lips when he glanced over at your friend. “yeah.” wyatt nodded. rafe was seeing red, he couldn’t stand to look at you and wyatt standing so close to each other any longer. turning around, rafe listened in as wyatt asked to take you out to dinner. “aw, i would love to! what time should i be ready?”rafe shut his eyes momentarily. you said yes to wyatt too fast for his liking. “how does eight o’clock sound?”

you hummed, nodding excitedly as wyatt made his way to the front door. “alright, it’s a date then. see ‘ya!” you waved at him until his truck disappeared down the dirt road. walking back into the kitchen, rafe was staring you down as you acted like you didn’t just agree to go on a date in front of him. “what do you think you’re playing at?” he narrowed his eyes at you. “if you’re acting out because of last night—” you cut him off. “don’t talk about me ‘acting out’ when you’re the one who decided to run back to your little shed when i was giving you an open opportunity.” you cut in.

“an open opportunity to do what?” rafe’s voice was firm as he stepped closer to you, his beer long forgotten on the counter as he gripped your arm. you failed miserably at trying not to look down at his lips. “it doesn’t even matter now. you obviously don’t want it,” you softened, “don’t want me..” rafe couldn’t believe his ears. you were all that this man thought about. he woke up thinking of what pretty outfit you would wear for the day, and went to sleep wishing you were by his side. “don’t want you?” he repeated, loosening his grip on your skin. “you just have no fucking clue.” rafe stepped back.

“you’re the only thing that i want.” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head as he made his way outside to the back house. you stared at him in shock. all this time you wondered if something was wrong with you because he never made a real move to pursue you, but now all of a sudden after you agree to go on a date he wants to express how he feels? and has the nerve to walk off right after? fuck that. you pushed the back door open, the old wood slamming back against the house as rafe spun around on his heels. “so why do you walk away from me?!” you shouted, both of your chests rising and falling.

“what are you talking about?” you stepped down the stairs, shoving rafe in the chest. “why do you leave every time things start to go somewhere?” his eyes bore into yours, “i’m sick of this game of cat and mouse. have you ever thought that maybe i want you too?” those were the words rafe needed to hear before he cupped your face and dragged you off your feet. his lips were soft against your own, his calloused hands pulling you close to him as your arms wrapped around his neck. he groaned at the taste of you, his tongue slipping in your mouth before you could process what was happening.

rafe kissed you hard and slow, as if to savor you before he led you two to his place, the door barely shutting before he had you pinned to his neatly made bed. “i’ve wanted you the moment your father introduced us, that’s the truth.” he slotted himself between your thighs, cupping your tits through your dress. you moaned, his hips grinding against your clothed cunt. “why would you wait all this time then?” you whimpered when he started pressing kisses to the curve of your neck, his calloused hands feeling you up as they roamed your soft flesh. “well for starters, i have a lot of respect for your pops..”

you sighed, completely forgetting about the old man. “and?” rafe pulled the straps of your dress down until the material pooled at your waist. leaning back on his heels, rafe marveled at the sight of your bare chest, your tits looking more perfect than he imagined. “..and right now, all the respect i have is going out the door.” you cried out when he leaned down, his lips wrapping around a sensitive bud while he used his other hand to snake beneath the waistband of your panties. you blinked up at the ceiling, your hips bucking when you felt his rough fingers stroke your clit.

“that feels so good, ray.” you keened, the weight of his body providing you a sense of safety and comfort. rafe felt like he was under a spell. with your sweet voice in his ear, and his fingers working to get you soaked and ready for him, he couldn’t wait to taste you any longer. pulling away from you, rafe slid your dress and underwears off in one swift motion, a shiver running down your spine when he slowly spread your thighs apart. “you’re fuckin’ gorgeous.” he licked his lips, glancing up at your heated face. your heart bloomed in your chest, your hand finding his cheek.

“please. i’ve wanted this for eight months.” you confessed, your words sending rafe into overdrive. without another thought, rafe took your thighs and placed them on his shoulders, delving into your wetness with a groan. instinctively, your back arched up from his bed, your hands flying to rest on top of his own. you squeezed his fingers, a string of babbles falling from your lips as rafe’s tongue flicked against your sensitive bundle of nerves. rafe watched as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyebrows knitting together as pure bliss etched itself onto your face.

“you okay?” rafe pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, wanting to make sure it wasn’t too much for you before continuing. “mhmm, yes!” you looked down, the image of rafe’s chin, lips, and even the tip of his nose glistening with your slick was now forever ingrained in your brain. smiling to himself, rafe got back to work, but this time with his fingers prodding at your entrance. “might be a bit uncomfortable at first, but i promise it’ll feel so good, baby.” you nodded, putting all your trust in him before you felt the delicious stretch of his digits inside your cunt.

“fuck!” you squealed, your thighs threatening to snap shut around his head. rafe curled his digits, your eyes screwing shut as he continuously pressed that soft spot inside of you. rafe didn’t stop his skillful movements on your clit, an unfamiliar feeling starting to swirl in your core. rafe cursed at the wet sounds emitting from your pussy, his cock hard and aching to get inside of you already. you gasped when he kept suckling on your sensitive bud, your stomach caving in when he pressed a hand to your tummy. before you could think, white hot pleasure blinded your vision, your entire body jolting as the first wave of your orgasm washed over you.

rafe felt the way you pulsed around his digits, wishing so badly that it was his cock instead. eyes flickering up to your face, he groaned when he saw the way your face twisted in pure bliss, your legs shaking as you felt the sudden urge to pull away from him. “rafe, wait!” you cried out, a sob ripping itself from your throat when a stream of wetness suddenly soaked rafe’s chin, your decadence streaming down his neck as he moaned against your cunt. you stared down at him with wide eyes, your mouth parting in suprise when he slipped his digits in his mouth.

“i- i don’t know what that was!” you gasped, cheeks heating in embarrassment. licking a final stripe up your folds, rafe smiled as he shook his head. “you just squirted, baby, get used to it.” his length rested on top of your tummy, hot and heavy, as he threaded his fingers with yours. “gonna fuck you until you’re carrying my baby..” your heart swelled, recalling his words from last night. “were you talking about me? when you said you wanted little ones..” rafe looked into your eyes, the sincerity in his gaze making you feel warm and fuzzy inside. “you’re the only woman i envision. future and present.”

cupping his face softly, you brought his lips down to meet your own, the head of his cock slipping into your entrance. you let out a shuddering breath, nodding slowly as he pushed the rest of his length inside your greedy walls. you swore you died and went to heaven when he starting rocking into you, both of you moaning in unison. “rafe?” you whimpered, gazing up at him with teary eyes, “shit— yeah, sweetheart?” the man on top of you thumbed your chin, a concerned expression taking over his features. you could tell rafe was holding back with the way he was hesitating with every thrust.

“harder, please.” you asked sweetly, rafe obliging without another thought. soon, you were a crying mess, your eyes barely staying open as rafe put you in a mating press. he was already reaching new depths in regular missionary, so when he placed your legs over his shoulders and caged you between his arms, you were hysterical as his tip kissed your cervix. “oh, god!” you screamed, your nails digging into rafe’s skin as he fucked you stupid. “can’t..” you shook your head, the feeling of his cock filling you to the hilt was increasingly becoming too much to handle.

"yes you can, sugar. look how good you're taking it all.." rafe cradled your head, making you look down at where you two were connected. you moaned at the sight, his cock shining with your slick. rafe kept his hands beneath your head, kissing you softly as his pubic bone began hitting your clit. “m’gonna make you the prettiest mommy this town has ever seen, just watch.” he chuckled, his forehead falling in the curve of your neck. you ran your fingers across his buzzed scalp, the word ‘promise?’ lingering on your tongue. “is that what you want? ‘want me to breed you until you’re all pretty and round?”

you cried out, rafe’s hips stuttering as he felt his climax creeping up on him. “yes, yes, yes—” you repeated yourself like a broken record, rafe’s name falling from your lips like a mantra. “oh, fuck!” he cursed, teeth grazing your flesh as he spilled into you, your second orgasm making you squeeze around him like a vice. rafe stilled, making sure to keep stroking your clit so he could draw out your high for as long as possible. slipping his thumb in your mouth, you shamelessly sucked on the digit as you trembled beneath him, his hot load filling you up.

you two stayed panting against each other’s mouths until your highs subsided, a light sheen of sweat coating both of your skin’s. pulling out with a grunt, rafe rolled over, pulling you with him so he could spoon you. letting out a sigh, you reveled in the warm sun streaming through his window, the light casting off of your face and illuminating the walls. “that was worth the wait, don’t you think?” if it wasn’t for the feeling of your limbs being jelly, you would’ve turned around and landed a playful smack to his chest. instead, you hummed, your eyes heavy with sleep. “we’re not keeping this from my father, rafe.”

your voice was hoarse as you spoke. “no. no, we’re not.” he kissed your shoulder. “you should probably give that guy wayne a call, ‘tell him you’re not going on that date after all.” you giggled, a shiver going down your spine as his large palm rubbed circles into your back. “wyatt, rafe. his name is wyatt. i only told him yes to rile you up.” you teased. rafe knew that, but it still pissed him off nonetheless. “i’ll cancel in a minute, ‘sir.” you used wyatt’s formalities towards rafe earlier against him, earning you a light pinch to your side. “that asshole. ‘really called me sir as if i’m that old.” he shook his head, waiting for you to disagree.

“well..” you trailed off, bursting into laughter when he attacked you with sloppy kisses.

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guiltyasdave · 3 months ago

Text

help me hold onto you

pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x mutant! f!reader

word count: ~3.5k

summary: Logan deals with feeling guilty after he's accidentally cut you with his claws in his sleep.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that can be pulled, no use of y/n, Logan lifts reader up but he's superhumanly strong, so-, graphic description of an injury, graphic description of violence, angst, nightmares, Logan's pov, fighting as foreplay, unprotected p in v, rough sex, biting, praise kink, a lot of animalistic behavior due to their mutations, like they're just a little... primal, it's cute i swear, also reader looks like a human being it's just the mannerisms, fluff

a/n: guess i'm a multi fandom writer now? this literally came to me in a fever dream, very much like the logan brainrot itself lol. this is my first time writing for the man, after watching the movies - also for the first time - last week, so please be gentle with me <3 something very similar happens in the origins movie and i wanted them to explore that more, but alas, i had to do it myself.

massive thanks to @kiwisbell for assuring me that this idea isn't terrible and for freaking out about logan with me in general, to @catchallfangirl for coming up with the whole cat theme and for being so supportive, to @sizzlingcloudmentality for matching my freak and taking the cat theme to the next level, for helping me plot and for being an amazing beta reader, and to @javier-pena for listening to me rant about this idea and being so lovely and supportive <3

dividers by @saradika-graphics who is a queen <3

notifications blog -> @guiltyasdavenotifs & full masterlist -> here

Most nights, Logan sleeps easier when you’re in bed with him. Your body pressed against his, your skin soft and warm against his bare chest. One of his thighs between your legs where you’ve wrapped yourself around him, your touch moving over his torso aimlessly, fingers curling into his chest hair, your hands kneading his flesh in your sleep. The soothing little purrs that emit from your chest when you’re sound asleep. None of it bothers him, no matter how many times it disturbs his own rest.

It keeps him grounded, feeling you next to him. He’d rather spend the whole night somewhere in that haze between waking and sleeping, listening to your sounds, your breath fanning against his skin, than being pulled under into the depths of his subconsciousness.

He’d rather open his eyes to see you disentangling your limbs from his, stretching your whole body, arching against him as you yawn.

He’d rather greet you with a smiling “Good morning, kitten,” waiting for that adorable little crease to appear between your brows when you pout up at him.

“Did I do it again?”

He doesn’t hide his grin as he nods, growing wider when you flop back against the cushions with a groan.

“What exactly?”

“All of it.”

Your sorry comes out muffled as you hide your face behind your hands.

“It’s okay,” he says, leaning over you to pull your hands away and kiss the pout off your lips. Caressing that spot under your chin with two fingers, watching you go all soft, baring your throat to him. “I like it.”

He would much rather wake up like this.

But it’s been a long week and he’s exhausted. Exhausted enough to get lulled into a deep sleep, encased in the safe cloud of your warm body against his and your touch on his skin. Exhausted enough to dream. And his dreams are not a safe place.

His eyes fly open with a shout, his whole body jolting upwards, every muscle pulled taut. He doesn’t even register the claws shooting out between his knuckles, all of his instincts screaming at him to fight.

He’s only faintly aware of the sudden yelp of pain from beside him, the movement of something jerking away from him.

“Logan,” your voice rings through the buzzing in his ears. Smaller hands landing on his shoulders, fighting to hold him steady.

It takes a few disoriented blinks before he recognizes the familiar bedroom, a few more deep breaths to stop his body from shaking. To clear the fog in his head enough to understand what you’re saying.

“It’s me, Logan. You’re safe, everyone’s safe, it’s okay.”

His eyes find yours in the semi-darkness. Wide with worry, but firmly trained on his face, repeating that everything’s okay. He finally registers the familiar weight of you straddling him, understands that it’s your fingers digging into his shoulders.

He’s still panting, not daring to look away from your face again. The one tether that keeps him from getting lost in his mind again.

“Are you with me?” you ask, your voice softer now.

He manages a nod, tries to smile, to wipe the deep worry of your face, but he’s not sure if his mouth even twitches.

As the feeling slowly returns to his body, he notices something else. A kind of wetness, warm and sticky where your right hand is connected to his skin. The unmistakable tang of iron in the air. He stretches to turn on a bedside lamp, jostling you along with his movement. A quiet whimper hits his ears, so low that he’s sure you tried to suppress it.

With a new kind of panic surging through him, he grabs hold of your arm, bringing it to his eye level.

Three scratches ooze in deep red, just beneath your wrist. It forces a gasp from him, eyes dancing frantically between the wounds on your arm and your face. How much blood did you lose already while you were busy helping him? As if he deserved it.

“Fuck, I’m— I’m so sorry baby, we gotta—” He stumbles over his own words, grasping at you almost blindly, panicked tears blurring his vision. He did this.

“Logan,” you say, still so inexplicably calm. “It’s fine. Look. It’s fine.”

You gently pry his fingers off your arm and bring your wrist up to your mouth. Your tongue darts out, drawing long licks against your marred skin, collecting the blood and gliding over the cuts in your flesh.

It pains him to watch, but it’s the least he can do. The least he owes you. He watches you clean the blood off, watches as the wounds start shrinking at the touch of your saliva, as the skin smoothes over before his very eyes until there’s only three thin marks left, a shade lighter than the rest of your skin.

“Look,” you tell him again, extending your arm towards him. “I told you it’s okay.”

He knows you can do this, of course he does. Has watched you multiple times, his fascination with your powers never wavering. How fluidly you move, how quick you attack, how skilled you are at surviving. You just never had to survive him.

You lean down on top of him until your whole torso rests on his, your thighs still on either side of him, burrowing your head into his chest. “Which war did you dream about?” you ask quietly.

Most of the time, the dreams don’t grant him the mercy to zero in on one single memory. It’s a constant stream, one fight after the other, until all he knows is shouting, fighting, blood and death.

“All of them.”

You sigh deeply, your breath cool against his sweat-dampened skin. Raising your head a little, you start placing kisses on his chest, pressing your lips into his skin where you can feel the faint beating of his heart.

“I wish I could kiss this better, too,” you mumble.

He chuckles humorlessly, one hand reaching into your hair to scratch at your scalp. You shudder at the touch, an approving little purr traveling up your throat.

“It’s okay now,” he mutters, leaning in to inhale the scent of your hair. “Just— I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

It sounds so simple, falling from your lips like this. But it’s no match for the aching guilt that’s already eating at him, the questions of what if that start swirling through his mind.

Your body is growing heavier on top of him as you relax, your breaths evening out and your eyelids fluttering shut. It soothes him, has his own breathing slowing down, but he can’t risk falling asleep again. Not like this, not with your body so close to his.

“What are you— Logan?” comes your instant protest when he moves you to your side of the mattress, your eyes flying back open, wide and mildly confused.

“I could’ve killed you,” he mutters. It could have happened so easily. Just a little deeper, just a slightly different spot.

“No, you couldn’t,” you quip, arching an eyebrow at him. “Cats have nine lives, remember?” You sneak another quick kiss on his chest before finding his gaze again, a teasing smile on your lips. “Even kittens.”

It’s an attempt to lighten the mood, to make him laugh. He knows that. You hate the pet name he’s given you.

“And you’re not gonna waste one on me,” he grits out.

Hurt flashes over your face, more pain in your eyes than when there was an actual wound on your arm.

“It wouldn’t be—”

“Don’t you dare say it wouldn’t be a waste.”

The words come out as a low growl, aggressive enough to send most anyone running. You don’t run.

Your animal doesn’t like it when he growls at you. He can feel the tension rolling off of you, your hair probably standing on end. Gritting your teeth, you take a deep breath, release your fingers’ grip from digging into the sheets.

“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” you tell him, resignation in your voice.

Your eyes fall shut again, your head for once resting on your own pillow instead of his chest. He misses the weight of it instantly. You doze off quickly, your hands still pawing weakly at his side, like your body can’t help it. He almost pulls you closer himself.

While you sleep, Logan forces his own eyes to stay wide open, staring unseeingly into the darkness.

It’s a quiet day. You had tried talking to him, tried to convince him that it’s okay, that it’s fine. He can’t keep listening to you insisting that him almost killing you is no big deal. He should have known, should have been more aware of the risk instead of letting himself get lost in the blissful sensation of your body curled around his every night. You’ve trusted him so completely, only for him to let you down.

Just like he always does, the voice in his head whispers.

No matter how many times you swear that you can take care of yourself, he should still be protecting you, not actively putting you in danger while you’re fucking asleep. It’s happened once now, so it can happen again, and he knows that he could never forgive himself.

He knows that he’s hurting your feelings. Sees how your brows knit together when he barely kisses you back throughout the day. How you bite your lip when the way you’re butting your head against his doesn’t make him chuckle like it usually does.

He should be angry at himself. He is. But you shouldn’t be the one to catch the brunt of it, and it makes him feel even worse. You always say that he should talk about his feelings more, that it would help to let them out. He suspects that you’re right. He just doesn’t know how.

By evening, you’ve grown uncharacteristically quiet, but he keeps catching your burning glares at him when you think he isn’t looking. Finally, after you’ve stared at him for what felt like an eternity and he’s pointedly ignored you, you seem to snap.

“Can you stop it?!” It leaves your mouth in a hiss, triggering his instincts before the words even register in his brain.

“Stop what?” he growls back.

Your fingers curl as a low snarl escapes you. Normally, neither of you lets your animalistic side take over like that. Normally, you’re good at soothing each other.

But tonight, he can feel the energy crackle between you, the tension begging to be released.

“You know what! This fucking— sulking or whatever it is you think you’re doing!”

He rises to his feet, pulling up to his full height. One of your hands twitches.

“I’m not—”

You charge at him with an angry shout before another word can leave his mouth. You’re on him in a flash, grabbing onto his arm and letting your momentum carry you until you’re behind him, your nails digging into his shoulders until you’re perched on his backside.

Whipping his head around, he bares his teeth at you, growls rumbling in his chest. You angrily hiss in his face and swing a hand at him in return, leaving angry red scratches down his cheek. They heal and fade as quickly as they came, but a triumphant grin flashes over your features regardless.

“Come on, Logan,” you breathe into his ear. The edge in your voice sends fire straight through him. “Fight. You’re not gonna break me.” Your canines nip at his earlobe, somewhere between affectionate and challenging.

He tries shaking you off, but your grip on him only tightens. He collects a fist of your hair instead, pulling harshly to keep your teeth away from his throat.

“Enough,” he grits, trying desperately to regain control, to become more human again, to smother the primal need to match your aggression.

He finally grabs hold of one of your hands as well and manages to rip you off his back and in front of him, holding on tight to your upper arms to keep you in place. You’re snarling and twisting in his hold, but he doesn’t let up.

“Enough,” he repeats, searching your wild eyes. Your movements slow down a fraction, giving him a moment of hope, before you surge forward and bury your teeth in his lower lip. It hurts like hell and he can taste blood on his tongue instantly.

“Fight me,” you demand again, baring your teeth at him.

He pulls you back by your hair with a roar, gathers both your wrists in one large hand and holds you steady. You could still break free if you wanted to, he thinks. He might be stronger than you, but your movements turn almost liquid when you want to escape, he’s watched it more than once.

The pain in his lip has already subsided, but his blood is still coating your mouth, a stark contrast against the white shimmer of your teeth.

“Are you done?” His voice is harsh, his jaw clenched, carefully keeping the desire to strike back at bay.

You deflate a little, some of the wildness draining from you before his eyes.

“I just— I’m not fragile, I don’t want you to be scared of— of touching me.” Your voice grows small at the end and he’s horrified to see wetness glistening in your eyes.

The fight mode leaves him as fast as it came, replaced with the overwhelming urge to care, to protect what’s his. His pack, in a way.

He gathers you into his arms, curling himself around you. It feels good to hold you close again. Breathing you in deeply, he smells the adrenaline still oozing from you, hears the rapid beating of your heart. But mostly, it’s your unique scent, one that he thinks he could recognize anywhere. His tether to this world.

“I’m sorry, kitten. I’m not scared of touching you,” he mumbles into your hair.

You sniffle against his chest, but when you finally raise your head to look at him, new determination is glinting in your eyes.

“Prove it,” you coo, tracing the shape of his lips with one fingertip. “Please.”

That he can do. He nips at your finger playfully, your responding giggle the best sound he’s heard all day, before he shoves it out of the way to connect his lips with yours. It’s rough, a clashing of teeth and tongues, the tension that has been building and warping all day finally finding a release.

You gasp into his mouth when his tongue moves against yours, your hands pulling at his hair, needing him closer and closer still, never close enough. His groan at the taste of you travels through you both as he’s grasping at your clothes.

He longs for your warm skin under his palms, longs for how you lean into his touch so needy all the damn time. You pull away with a moan, helping him to pull your sweater over your head and stepping out of your jeans as he sheds his flannel.

You bring both hands up to cup his face, to search his eyes. “Don’t be gentle,” you plead, “please, I need—”

You don’t have to keep talking for him to understand what you need. I’m not scared of touching you.

With a growl, his hands find your hips, holding you tight as he’s walking you backwards until your ass connects with the backside of the couch. He crowds you in, paws at every inch of bare skin he can reach, his cock already hard and aching at your soft warmth and the sweet mewls that tumble from your lips.

Hitching one of your legs up to open you for him, he grinds himself against your barely covered center. A keening sound escapes you at the friction from his jeans against your sensitive flesh and he allows himself a grin.

“Feels good, kitten?”

You nod mindlessly, holding onto him and rocking your hips against his while you’re letting him move you however he sees fit.

“Do you want more?”

“Please, Logan.”

You sound so sweet when you’re like this, when you put your body into his hands. I’m not scared of touching you.

Setting your leg back down, he watches with hunger as you hastily take off your underwear while he pulls the white tank top over his head and opens his belt buckle. He could swear that your pupils dilate a fraction at the sound of it, filling him with a possessive sense of pride.

As soon as his jeans hit the floor, he’s all over you again, palming the weight of your breasts, tugging and pinching at your nipples as he swallows down your mewls. You’re soaking wet already, covering his cock in your slick as he nudges against your folds. He’s impatient to feel you all around him, to sink into you, to stake his claim again and again and again.

He normally works you open longer, gives you more time to prepare, but your impatience is just as apparent as his own, with the way you whine and plead for him, your fingers digging into his flesh, trying to pull him nearer.

He follows your pull, pressing your backside into the couch once more as he crowds your space. Leaning in, he kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth, one hand buried in your hair and holding you close.

“I love you,” he breathes against your lips as he lets go of you. I’m not scared of touching you.

You smile softly, echoing the sentiment back at him.

A surprised squeak escapes you when he turns you around suddenly, bending you over the back of the couch. He lines himself up at your dripping entrance, desperate to fill you up, to give you what you’re craving.

“Not gentle?” he rasps once more, one hand curling around your neck from behind, both in reassurance and dominance.

“Not gentle,” comes your breathy answer. It breaks off into a shriek of a moan when he slams into you with one long thrust, stretching your tight walls around his length. The sting of his sudden intrusion has to hurt at least a little, but you push back against him eagerly, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

Logan holds himself still for a moment, mesmerized by the sight of your squirming body and your needy little sounds, before he pulls out almost entirely, only to push back in forcefully. Your toes barely reach the floor with how far he’s bent you over, lifting you into the air with every harsh thrust, but he’s holding you steady with ease, both hands possessively spanning over your waist, positioning you exactly where he wants you.

“Taking me so fucking well, like you were made for me,” he growls, gently scratching over your back with his nails. You arch up to chase his touch, tightening around him, almost purring with pleasure. Wetness pours out of you, coating his cock. I’m not scared of touching you. Not when it feels this good.

“M–more, please,” you whine, blindly reaching backwards to him.

He leans over you, cages you in, his arms on either side of you, his breath hot against your skin. His teeth sink into the back of your neck, not so deep as to draw blood, but enough that he knows the indents will stay there for quite some time.

Your whole body goes limp at the sensation, a surprised mewl escaping you as you clench around him wildly.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his own hips stuttering, “give it to me kitten, come on—”

He reaches around your hip, fingers teasing through your slick folds and up to your clit, rubbing with slight pressure as he keeps pistoning into your heat.

“Logan—” you gasp, getting almost impossibly tight, before you shatter around him. He keeps thrusting into you, keeps up his ministrations on your clit, until the pulsing of your cunt around him sends him over the edge as well. He spills his release deep inside of you, the thought of leaving a part of him with you always filling him with a primal satisfaction.

Pulling you up instantly, he gathers you in his arms, your body soft and pliant against his chest. Walking around the couch and sinking into the cushions to lie down, he gently moves you until your weight is resting on top of him, his embrace wrapping around you.

You stir a little, needing a moment to take in your position. The look of uncertainty that you give him damn near breaks his heart. “Is this okay?” You sound uncertain, too.

God, he’s such an idiot.

“Yeah, kitten. It’s— fuck, of course it’s okay.”

thank you so so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed, and if you did, a comment or a reblog would absolutely make my day :)

-> part 2!

#logan howlett #wolverine #james logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x female reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x female reader #x men #hugh jackman #logan howlett fanfiction #janas fics

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hello-sweetheart · 16 days ago

Text

Neat Freak

Steve’s parents don’t make him keep the house spotless. He really is just that clean and when Nancy tries to tell people there like “lol, sure” but she knows.

He’s a neat freak.

When she would stay over she would change into her pjs and make a small bundle of her day clothes on his desk chair, and steve would just. Fold them. Before getting in bed with her.

Doesn’t take long after for the others to realize it.

Robin thought it was just a guy thing, caring that much about their car. Scolding her for kicking her socked feet up on the dash, and leaving crumbs of toast when she had breakfast to go.

But then she visits his house the first time and Robin has never been good at using a coaster, too scatter brained to pay attention where she sets her drink down each time.

Steve, though? Without missing a beat he will move her glass to the coaster. Every time. Doesn’t even break his strike or pauses his conversation it’s just muscle memory by now.

The kids have had their will broken and no longer put up a fight.

Without being told to anymore, they toe off their shoes and hang their coat by the doorway. They don’t even do that in their own home. How Steve was able to get those wild animals house broken? No body knows.

His mom didn’t actually choose his room decor. It looks a bit barren but Steve likes it that way. It looks clean, easier to do so, too. Everything has its place tucked away from sight so it’s not an eye sore.

Even his plaid wallpaper and curtains he chose for himself. He spent all day finding the curtains that matched the closest and he was really proud of himself when found some.

“Steve, buddy, this looks mental.”

“But look,” (closest the curtains to show that even the pattern lines up seemlessly) “you almost can’t even see the difference between the wall and fabric. It’s like magic! It’s cool!” >:(

He’s very meticulous about his appearance. Dustin is absolutely flabbergasted when he sees his full hair routine for himself. Everything must be done a certain way in a certain order every time. It’s routine.

“Three puffs of the Farah Fawcett! THREE!”

“I DID THREE.”

“YEAH, BUT YOU DID THEM WRONG.”

When they discontinue it, Steve has a mini breakdown. He doesn’t like that his very specific and set routine has been broken. He’s convinced he’ll never find a hair spray to replace it. Everybody stocks up on cans of it to try and lower his anxiety.

He just loves cleaning, okay?

Ironing his kakis and polos until there are no wrinkles is so satisfying. Glass without finger smudges is so nice. His closet being organized by color is so efficient. When he’s worried, anxious, or angry he likes to keep his hands busy and it just calms him down going ham on a water stain in the bathroom.

When he hangs out at Eddie’s, he mindlessly starts picking things up here and there. It’s like heaven for him. He sees a mess and just wants to go to town. Eddie doesn’t mind as long as he knows where everything is in the end. He’ll admit that having his music organized alphabetically is pretty convenient.

It’s also a little funny to watch Steve iron his ripped jeans and battle jacket with an iron he brought from home.

“You’re a freak, Harrington.” Eddie has a shit eating grin. Steve flips him off.

“Fuck off.”

#steddie #steddie headcanon #steddie prompt #steve harrington prompt #steve harrington headcanon #neat freak steve harrington #anyone else like cleaning?#I love organizing stuff by color #it’s calming #bee speaks #steve harrington #platonic stobin #stobin headcanon #pre stancy #stancy #pre steddie #babysitter steve harrington

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soaps-mohawk · 5 months ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 26: Fuck

Summary: You're going insane. The need is insatiable, but that's not the only thing plaguing you.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 6,261

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, bodily fluids, gagging, creampie, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, a sprinkle of angst, fluff, obviously language, someone drops the L word, Simon rizzin' with the 'tism

A/N: You might be asking, am I really naming the chapter that? Yeah. I've been half asleep these last couple days (including while writing most of this) due to my change of meds so if this is ass, blame it on my medication lol. Anyway, yeah, you'll see with this one.

I'd also like to give very special thanks to @141wh0re who helped me with the Johnny scene I owe you big time, princess 🫶

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

Hands squeeze your ass cheeks, pushing them apart to reveal your soaked pussy. You let out a quiet moan as the cool air in the room hits your damp slit. Another, louder moan leaves your lips as a thumb drags through your folds. Your pussy clenches at the sensation, slick oozing out of you in anticipation. Fingers rub it through your folds, teasing over your clit before pulling back.

You let out a whine of indignation and disappointment, pressing your hips back as you chase after the touch needily.

“Easy, you needy little pup.” You jump at the harsh slap against your cheek in retaliation. “I'll give you what you need.”

You whine, face pressed into the sheets as John kneels behind you. His warm breath across your damp folds is a delicious contrast to the cool air in the room. It has you whining and twitching, fingers sinking into the soft fabric under you.

Your legs nearly give out at the first drag of his tongue through your folds. You moan softly, pressing back against his mouth. His hands press against your ass, keeping you still as he drags his tongue through your folds again. His beard tickles your thighs, prickling deliciously against the sensitive skin. You'll have beard burn by the end of this, but you can hardly complain.

You never do.

His thumbs part your folds again, spreading you open as his lips close around your clit. A long moan falls from your lips as he sucks on the sensitive bud. You're close to cumming already, your pussy sensitive after the last few days of near nonstop fucking with the members of your pack.

“Fuck!” You moan against the sheets as John gives your clit a particularly hard suck.

“Sensitive little thing.” He murmurs against your clit, his tongue flicking against the bud.

You whine, legs starting to tremble as they fight to hold you up against the pleasure from John's mouth. He continues his relentless ministrations against your clit, rotating between suckling it and flicking it with his tongue.

Your moans get more and more needy as you get closer and closer to the edge, John pushing you harder against the mattress so you don’t fall as your legs nearly give out.

You cum with a cry, legs shaking as he holds you up, licking up every last drop from your pussy.

He stands from between your legs, delivering another light slap to your ass. “On the bed.”

You pull yourself up fully on the mattress, turning to face him with a smirk. “How do you want me, daddy?”

A low growl rumbles in his chest as he stares down at you, his gaze darkening. He nods towards the pillow, his voice deep and rough. “On your back.”

You shift so you're laying on the bed, sinking into the pillow. He strips off his shirt and pants, hard cock springing free. You nearly drool at the sight of it, hard and weeping. He climbs onto the bed, the mattress dipping from his weight. He settles himself between your knees, pushing them apart so you're spread open before him. He stares down at your weeping pussy, licking his lips.

“So fucking needy.” He groans, pressing two fingers into you. You mewl at the stretch, pussy fluttering around his fingers. “So worked up over the littlest things. You'd cum just like this on my fingers, couldn't you?”

You clench around his fingers, your hips pressing closer to his hand. You could, even if he held them still. Your body feels like it's on fire, desire and lust and pleasure coursing through you. His scent has gone straight to your head, driving the neediness and desperation for some relief, something to take the edge off the intense throbbing in your pussy.

“Need you, alpha.” You whine, continuing to fuck yourself on his fingers.

He holds his hand there for a few moments, watching your slick coat his fingers before he pulls them free, spreading your legs further apart. You lift yourself up on your elbows as you watch him press forward, dragging his cock through your folds. Your lips part, quiet gasps slipping free as his head catches on your clit, smearing his precum through your folds.

You flop back against the pillow again as he presses into you, splitting you open around his cock. He's so big, so warm as he takes his time, working himself into you. You moan at the stretch, pressing your legs further open around him, as if that will help him sink in deeper.

You can't do anything but lay there and moan as he pushes into you to the hilt, hips flush against yours as he bends over you, his hands framing your face. You stare up at him, meeting his gaze as he sits there inside you for a moment. Your pussy flutters around him, the intensity of his stare shooting straight through you.

He lets out a quiet grunt as you squeeze around him, pulling his hips back before slowly pressing back in. You’re nearly hypnotized as you stare up at him, as he continues to move, fucking you slowly. Your breath hitches at the intensity, the passion building in the moment.

He shifts his position, pressing his body down against yours. He grinds against you as he picks up the pace, his hand cupping the back of your head as he presses his lips to yours. You moan into the kiss with every pass of his pelvis over your clit, your arms lifting to wrap around his back, pressing him as close to you as you can. He pulls back from your mouth, his lips parting in a groan as you wrap your legs around his waist, trying to take him deeper than he already is. It's all very sensual, the way he moves against you, his eyes locked on yours, the quiet grunts leaving his lips, the twitch of his cock inside you.

It’s too much as you cum suddenly, your orgasm slamming into you like a battering ram. You squeeze around him, legs tightening around his hips. He lets out a low groan, his pace faltering a bit as you squeeze around him like a vice. It doesn't stop him, though, his thrusts continuing even after your body has gone lax around him. You continue to cling to him, holding on for dear life as he fucks you to the point of overstimulation.

You whine, nails digging into his back as the sensations become too much, squirming in his grasp.

“You can take it.” He grunts, shifting his hips just slightly. “Come on, be a good girl for me.”

You whine at his words, your body shaking as sweat drips down your face. “Yes, daddy.”

He lets out a deep growl, his hips slamming against yours at the pet name. You’re not quite sure where it came from, why you’ve decided now is the time to pull it from the recesses of your mind. You remember when he jokingly told you, you could call him that if you wanted before your last heat, but you had yet to be brave enough to let it slip from your lips.

Until now.

Maybe it was the desperation, the neediness driving you to sink to places you’ve never gone before. He likes it, you can tell by the growls rumbling in his chest, the way his cock throbbed inside you when you let the name spill out. Maybe once the ache in your pussy subsides, when this relentless itch has finally been scratched, you’ll be brave enough to say it again.

He finally cums, hips snapping into yours as he spills into you with a deep groan. His hips twitch against you as you continue to hold him there, letting him fill you.

He nearly collapses over you, just managing to keep his full weight off of you. His skin is hot against yours, only adding to the sweat slicking your bodies. You’re worried he might suction to you, though you could hardly complain. You’d suction yourself to your alpha permanently if you could. You stroke his sweaty back, both of you laying in silence as you catch your breaths, letting the pleasure of the moment linger as long as possible. Your pussy flutters around him, pushing some of his seed out around his cock.

“Fuck.” He groans, his lips brushing your ear. “Making my cock hurt, sweetheart.”

You hum, drawing patterns on his back. “You don't have to do it, you know. I can always go to one of the others.”

He lets out a low growl, pressing down so his weight is almost fully against you, trapping you under him. “You're mine to take care of.” He rumbles in your ear, lips brushing the shell.

You let out a quiet whine, relaxing under him as he presses soft kisses to your skin. A shiver running through you as he kisses his mark on your neck. You arch your back slightly, pressing closer to his chest.

“Easy, pup.” He says, shifting off of you. You whine as his cock slips from your pussy, your walls fluttering at the loss. “You need to rest.”

You pout as he rolls you onto your side, locking his arms around you to keep you still. Your pout shifts into a smirk as you press your ass back against him, putting pressure on his cock.

“Stop.” He commands, releasing you to slap the side of your thigh.

You yelp at the contact, but a smile pulls at your lips. “Yes, daddy.”

A low growl rumbles in his chest as he wraps his arms around you again, keeping you pinned against his chest. “What prompted this change?” He growls in your ear.

You shrug, your hands coming up to wrap around his arms. “Mood felt right, I guess.”

“I’m certainly not complaining.” He says, nipping at your ear.

You whine, pressing your ass back against him again. He pushes back, pressing your legs further forward.

“You need to sleep.” He says, the warning in his tone clear as day.

“Can’t.” You whine, slickness already coating your thighs again.

He slips a hand down your front, pushing it between your legs to feel how wet you are still. “Did you tell Dr. Keller about this?” He asks.

You nod, spreading your legs as he pushes two fingers into you. “Yeah.”

“And what did she say?” He asks, holding his fingers still inside you.

You pause for a moment, your hazy brain trying to remember that conversation, but all you can remember is how insanely horny you’ve been these last few days. “I don’t remember.”

He grunts in disapproval, your legs closing around his hand, trapping him there. “I’ll ask her about it tomorrow.” He breathes, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “Get some rest, for me. I know you’re tired.”

You let out a quiet whine at the growl under his voice, his alpha slipping out to try and convince you to sleep without commanding it. You know he could, he probably should, as you shift on his fingers, moaning softly as they press up against your sensitive walls.

This is going to be a long night.

He feels like this is becoming a regular occurrence, sitting across from Dr. Keller, voicing his concerns about his omega. She always looks so sympathetic and understanding, always so attentive, listening to every word. He never had any doubts about your doctor, but the more time he spends in her office, he can see why you like her so much.

“Pseudo-heat.” She says, after listening to him ramble on about your intense desire and neediness, the insane level of horniness that’s plagued you these last few days, ever since your first time with Simon. “I had my concerns after our last appointment together. She brought it up, but she was so out of it, here but not here.” A smile tugs at her lips. “I’m not sure she heard a word I said.”

“I don’t think she did.” John says, leaning back in his seat. “Is this dangerous?”

Dr. Keller shakes her head. “Not entirely. They can happen for many reasons, usually a hormone imbalance, a disruption in pack dynamics, or a rejection of an alpha. Occasionally, though, they can be brought on by a new bond with a second alpha.”

John grunts quietly, the pieces beginning to come together. “This started after she slept with Simon the first time.”

Dr. Keller nods. Obviously you would have brought that up to her. “They both have very intense instincts, and while Lieutenant Riley might not have claimed her, that bond is equally as intense as it settles into place.”

“Is there a way to stop the intense...neediness? I’m worried she might fuck herself to death.”

Dr. Keller chuckles. “She won’t. She’s young and healthy and while it might take a physical toll, the rest of you are more likely to suffer before she does. This is where toys come in handy for omegas. I don’t doubt the rest of you are beginning to feel it.”

John grunts. “You could say that.”

“Keep her hydrated, try to get her to rest if you can. It’ll pass in a few days.”

“Will this have an effect on her actual heat?” John asks. He knows you’re due for one very soon.

“It shouldn’t.” Dr. Keller says, looking at her calendar. “The only thing I’d worry about is if she’ll have enough time to physically recover before it starts. Otherwise she’s going to be in for a world of hurt when she comes out the other side. Of course, I can help with that once she gets there. It’s very likely her preheat may cause this all to stop. I doubt she’d get thrown into her heat without her body doing any preparation. Just keep a close eye on her, watch her temperature and any other typical physical signs of her heat.”

John nods. He knows how dangerous it would be if you suddenly went into heat. He’d never dream of hurting Simon on purpose, but the thought of losing his mind and attacking his second alpha over their omega has him terrified.

“Simon?” You ask, rolling over in his bed as he picks up the towel from the floor.

“Hm?” He hums, walking into the bathroom to hang the towel over the shower door.

“Can I ask you something?” You continue as he comes back out of the bathroom with a damp rag, parting your legs to wipe you clean. You wince at the roughness of the rag on your sensitive skin.

“Depends.” He says, going back into the bathroom. You hear running water for a few seconds before he comes back out.

“You don't have to answer if you don't want to.” You say, scooting over to give him room as he slides under the covers with you. “Just curious.”

“Go ahead.” He says, tucking his sheets around the two of you.

“How did you learn to do that?” You ask, pressing yourself against his chest, your cheeks warming a bit. “Make a girl squirt?”

He hums again, the sound vibrating against your ear. “One of the few relationships I've been in, back when I was a recruit. Dated a beta. She was into it and taught me how to do it.”

“Why did you break up?” You ask, immediately regretting the question. You know how closed off he is, how tightly he keeps his past sealed. That you know as much as you do about him is a privilege.

“Mutual decision.” He says. “Got busy, started going on longer and longer deployments as I moved up the ranks. She didn't like me being away for so long at a time, so we moved on with our lives. Never really had time for another relationship or wanted one until I joined this pack. Even then, at first I wasn't interested.”

“But Johnny wormed his way into your heart.” You say. You've heard the story from Johnny before.

Simon huffs out a laugh. “Persistent bastard.” He squeezes you tightly. “Almost worse than you.”

You giggle, squirming in his grasp as he tickles your sides. “Hey! I wasn't even trying!”

He rolls over onto his back, shifting you onto his chest. “Still.” He says, cupping your face. “Managed to win me over in the end.”

“I'm glad I did.” You say, looking into his eyes. “I'm glad you finally gave in.”

He smirks under the mask, you can tell by the way his mouth moves beneath the fabric. “Me too.” He releases your face, letting you rest on his chest. “Don’t tell Johnny.”

Your nails drag over the top of his muscular thighs, feeling the soft skin mingling with faded scars and wiry hair. Johnny stares at you over the edge of his sketchpad, his dark eyes watching your every move like a hawk.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, fighting to contain the eager grin that bares your teeth to him, showing your excitement at being face to face with his cock. Your nails dare to venture closer to his base, teasing the skin of his pelvis now as you lower your head to place a kiss on his weeping tip.

Johnny’s breath hitches, his eyes falling shut at the initial contact. A shudder runs through him, his grip on the sketch pad tightening, fingers curling around the edges.

“Thought you were supposed to be drawing.” You say, your hand wrapping around the base of his cock.

“Christ almighty...” He breathes, staring at you for a moment longer before turning his gaze to the sketchpad.

You don’t move until you hear the scratch of his pencil on the paper, lowering your head as you hold his length in place. Johnny bites his lip, a strangled moan choking in his throat as your tongue trails a line from his sack, up the length of his shaft until you reach the sensitive head. You close your mouth around the tip, meeting his gaze as the sound of the pencil pauses.

You pull away from him, meeting his gaze as he stares at you. A smile tugs at your lips, your hand holding his cock in place as he fights the urge to throw the sketch pad off the bed. He’s struggling to stay focused, fighting the urge to succumb to the pleasure of your touch.

You don’t move until he looks back at the pad, the scratch of the pencil starting once more. You return your attention to his cock, flicking your tongue over his slit, tasting the salty precum pooling at the tip. Johnny’s nostrils flare as he exhales deeply, shaking his head just slightly as if he’s trying to shake off the distraction you’re proving to be.

Your other hand moves to gently cup his balls, massaging and rolling the soft spheres in your hold. Johnny finally reacts, letting a breathless moan escape him in a moment of lost concentration, his hips bucking involuntarily.

“Christ, bonnie,” He exhales.

Your thighs clench together, still slick from when you sat on his face earlier, pussy still pulsing despite the three orgasms he gave you. Your arousal threatens to leave a damp spot on the bed, a lasting reminder of the events of this evening.

You finally take him into your mouth, shifting just slightly as you sink down on his length. Another groan leaves his lips, the pencil stalling for a moment as you flatten your tongue against his shaft, taking as much as you can into your mouth. You fight the urge to gag around him, pulling back until just his tip is in your mouth. You swallow the build up of saliva in your mouth, tinted with the flavor of his precum.

You continue your ministrations as he continues drawing, bobbing in a slow, steady rhythm as your free hand cups his balls. His legs clench around you, muscles flexing and relaxing, flexing and relaxing as he fights to keep control over himself. Drool pools at the edges of your lips, dribbling down his length and collecting at the hand still wrapped around his base.

You take a breath through your nose before easing further down until his tip hits the back of your throat. You gag around him, tears reflexively rimming your waterline. Johnny's hips twitch as he fights the urge to buck up into you, knuckles going white around the edge of the sketchpad.

You hold that position for a moment, breathing through your nose before relaxing your throat, taking him as far as you can. Johnny groans, peering over the edge of the sketchpad, meeting your gaze as your lips nearly press against the hand holding his base. He stares at you for a moment before going back to his sketch, pretending to pay you no mind as his legs relax around you.

You accept the silent challenge, speeding up your movements as you bob on him, your tongue flicking the underside of his crown. Your hands leave his cock, settling on his thighs as you take him as deep as you can with each movement of your head, nails biting into the sensitive skin.

“Fuck....” He groans, muscles tensing under you again, and you would have smiled had it not been for the cock currently stuffed in your mouth.

Your lips are starting to sting from being stretched around his girth as you take him deep into your throat, gagging around him. He echoes with his own groan from the way your throat constricts around him. The hand holding the sketch pad is shaking slightly, his breaths quiet gasps as he tries to hold in his pleasure.

You ease yourself back up his cock, your tongue tracing the tick vein on the underside of his shaft. You flick the tip of your tongue along the underside of his crown, nearly pulling a whine from his lips. The pathetic sound drives you to continue the motion, flicking your tongue back and forth as your hand shifts to stroke his length. His cock is raging red, twitching in your grasp as you drag your tongue along his weeping slit again.

“Fuck...” He hisses, his hips twitching again.

He’s not holding back anymore, needy moans falling from his lips, his pencil continuing to falter as you tease his head. His hips jerk, trying to push his cock against your face, smearing precum on your lips.

“Gonna cum?” You ask, taking hold of his cock again as you lazily trailing your tongue over the veins lining the throbbing appendage.

He groans, fingers nearly denting the sketch pad as he grips it for dear life. “Fuckin’...yes!”

You take him into your mouth again, sinking down as far as you can, your nose nearly touching the hand holding his cock. He twitches in your mouth, his stomach flexing as you gag again, squeezing your eyes shut to fight the reflex. More drool drips onto his pelvis, soaking the dark hair that lines his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He drops his pencil, his hand shooting to hold the back of your head as he cums in your mouth. You take what he gives you, swallowing around him as he twitches against your tongue. “Screamin’ Jesus.” He moans, tugging on your hair to lift you off his cock. “Gonnae kill me. Fuckin’ got my boabie aching.”

You lick your lips, getting every last drop of precum and drool left. Johnny groans as he releases your hair, his hand reaching for his pencil where he’d dropped it off to his side. He’s not wrong in complaining about his cock hurting. Even you’re beginning to feel the last few days, the ache lingering longer and longer after every fuck, every orgasm.

You crawl your way up Johnny’s body, flopping yourself on his chest. He grunts quietly as your weight falls rather ungracefully on him. You lay there, catching your breath, the salty tang of his cum on your tongue. He’s breathing heavily too, sweat slicking his skin where it’s pressed against yours.

“Insatiable little kitten.” He grumbles, resting his sketchpad on your back as he returns to drawing.

“Can't help it.” You murmur, your head resting on his shoulder. “Feel like I'm going insane.”

“Yer just releasin’ pent up energy.” Johnny says.

You shift slightly against his chest, shocked he can have such coherent thoughts after an orgasm. “Huh?”

“You and Simon have been dancin’ around each other fer months now. Ye have a lot of pent up energy between you, and ye need to let it out. He's been just as insatiable.” Johnny explains.

A frown pulls at your brows as you think it over. It makes sense, that the two of you would have a lot of pent up energy, paired with your heightened instincts, you just want to fuck each other senseless until that energy disperses.

“Makes sense.” You murmur, nuzzling against Johnny's shoulder, relaxing in his soothing scent and the sound of the pencil on paper.

He hums, the sound vibrating through you. He presses his nose into your hair for a moment, breathing you in. His lips brush your forehead, pressing soft kisses along your hairline. “So fuckin’ sweet.” He groans. “Fuckin’ love you.”

His words wipe all urge to sleep from your mind, suddenly wide awake. You tense just slightly, waiting for him to realize what he said, to change his mind and backtrack.

You've said it, confessed your feelings to John and he had said it back with no hesitation, but had he only said it because you said it first? He hasn't said it since then, but neither have you.

You take in a shaky breath, planting your hand against his chest to ground yourself. You'll never know until you ask. It's Johnny, you can trust him, ask him anything and trust he'll be honest with you. “You mean it?” the words are small, quiet on the off chance he won't hear and you can backtrack yourself.

“Course.” He says, his lips brushing your forehead. “We all do. Hard not to love our sweet omega.”

You hum quietly, shocked by the words. “Well, that’s good.” You say, swallowing the nervous lump forming in your throat. “Because I love you too.”

He turns to look at you, a grin pulling at his lips. He sets his sketchpad against your back, wrapping his arms around you. He presses his lips to yours, tangling a hand in his hair again. The kiss leaves you breathless, so much emotion and passion poured into it. He licks into your mouth, stirring the warmth in your stomach again.

He groans against your lips, feeling the slick of your thighs as you start to slip off his chest to his side. “Not again.” He whines, pulling away from your lips.

“I’m fine.” You say, trying to force away the insatiable warmth in your stomach. “Can I see what you were drawing?”

“‘Course.” He says, shifting the sketch pad to his right hand so you can see.

It’s a drawing of you, eyes looking forward with his cock halfway into your mouth, lips spread around him. Your hand is holding his base, fingers delicately wrapped around the thick shaft. You lick your lips, suddenly finding it hard to stop the slick wetting your thighs again.

“If you ever get tired of the military, you could be a professional artist.” You say, staring at the detail in the drawing that he managed despite the fact you were attempting to suck the soul out of him.

He chuckles. “Yer not the first one to say that.”

“‘M serious.” You say, as the exhaustion from the day starts to weigh heavy on your brain.

“Thank ye.” He says, kissing your forehead. “Get some rest, kitten.” He says, moving the sketchpad back so it’s resting on your side as he goes back to drawing.

You can't help it as your eyes begin to slip closed, lulled to sleep by his warmth and the sounds of him sketching.

It's the first time in days you've woken up without your pussy throbbing in need. Your half asleep brain can't comprehend what it means as you press a hand between your legs, finding only the dried fluids from the night stuck to your thighs. You blink awareness back into your mind, laying there with your hand between your legs.

Kyle groans behind you, his arm tight around your waist. “Not again.”

You're finally awake enough to digest what the dryness between your legs means and you push yourself up to sit. “I'm not horny.”

Kyle shifts slightly behind you, still half asleep. “Hmm?”

“I'm not horny.” You repeat yourself, withdrawing your hand from between your legs.

Kyle pushes himself up to sit, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He slips his own hand between your legs, running his fingers over your folds. Despite how nice it feels, you don't feel the urge to grind against them, to take his wrist and hold his hand still as you fuck yourself on his fingers.

“Damn.” He says, withdrawing his hand. “Looks like we finally fucked it out of you.” He leans over, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Fucking glad, my cock is starting to hurt.”

You huff out a breath. “You old men and your sore cocks.”

“Hey!” He tries to grab for you, but you're faster, slipping out of arm's length as you grab your panties from the floor. “‘M not that old.”

“Well, you're certainly acting like it.” You say, sticking your tongue out at him.

He jumps off the bed, wrapping his arms around you before you can reach the door, lifting you off your feet. His fingers dig into your sides, tickling you. You shriek out a laugh, wiggling to try and escape his relentless tickling.

“Okay, okay!” You gasp out. “You’re not old.”

“Thank you.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he sets you back on your feet. “We've spent way too much time fucking this week for you to call me old.” He delivers a slap to your ass before pulling away.

He grabs clothes to change into and you steal one of his shirts, pulling it on before walking down to your room. You pause in front of your door, your eyes drawing to the gap between the door and the frame. Your heart rate picks up as you stand there, panic making your fingers shake. You closed it. You distinctly remember closing it, hearing it click before you slipped into Kyle's room.

You peek around the hallway, trying to keep your breathing even. Johnny's door is open across the hall, but he's not inside. Kyle has gone to the bathroom, and both Simon’s and John's doors are closed. You have half a mind to run for John's office, or to knock on the doors, something.

What if they're not in there, though? No one will hear you if something happens, or be able to get to you in time.

But what is the likelihood of anyone managing to get in without anyone noticing, even if none of them are in the hallway? Kyle had just left and would have noticed. There would be a smell, a bad vibe, something. Simon would have noticed immediately if he’s left his room already. Johnny would have noticed. Someone would know.

Your fingers shake as they wrap around the knob. You can scream. Scream and they'll make it in record time. For all you know, maybe you didn't close your door. Or maybe one of them had come looking for you and forgot to close it.

Yeah.

That's probably it.

You take a deep breath in, closing your hand around the knob tightly before throwing the door open. You take half a step back in shock, your startled shriek reducing to a squeak in your throat as a familiar dark figure turns to you.

“Simon!” You gasp, putting a hand on your chest. “You scared the shit out of me!” You look between him and your closet, and the many clothes draped over your bed and your desk chair, and even the bear. “What are you doing?”

“Your closet is a mess.” He says, hanging the shirt in his hands. “You're living in a pigsty.”

You pout, looking around at your dirty clothes on the floor. “It's not a pigsty.”

He gives you a glance out of the corner of his eye as he hangs the shirt in your closet.

You step into your room, calming the uneasy panic. It's just Simon who entered your room. Simon who felt the need to reorganize your clothes. “Simon?”

He hums, hanging things back in your closet.

“Where's my laundry basket?” You ask, noticing the empty space against the wall.

“Started a load for you.” He says, grabbing more from the stack on your desk chair.

You look over at your desk, your eyes scanning your books. “Did...did you reorganize my books too?”

He nods. “Alphabetically by author's last name in each genre.”

You nod slowly, turning away from your desk. “Right. How long have you been up?”

Simon shrugs. “Couple hours.”

“Uh huh.” You nod, moving to your dresser to dig out clean clothes for the day.

Simon lets out a long breath as you dig for a shirt, drawing your gaze up to him. He shakes his head, eyes focused on your mess.

“It's not that bad!” You say defensively, pushing the drawer closed.

“How do you find anything?” He says, staring down at you disappointedly.

“Like I just did. I know which shirt is which.” You say, crossing your arms.

He shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he turns back to your closet. “Fucking hell.”

You can’t hide your smile as you head for your bathroom, getting ready for the day.

Your stomach starts to growl as you’re brushing your teeth, the hunger gnawing almost painfully. You frown, rubbing at your stomach as you rinse your mouth. You’d had a snack last night before creeping into Kyle’s room. Maybe the exertion of the last week is catching up to you.

You exit the bathroom, finding your clothes put away in your closet and Simon missing with the dirty clothes on the floor. You’re not usually that messy, but with the last week having gone the way it did, cleaning was the last thing on your mind. You grab a pair of shoes before stepping out into the hallway, still rubbing your stomach.

“Hungry?” John asks, coming down the hallway.

You nod, your stomach growling again. “Yeah.”

“Come on.” He puts a hand on your back, steering you out of the barracks.

You’re still a bit on edge from your panic earlier, your body shifting towards John’s as you pass by groups of soldiers. He wraps an arm around you, keeping you glued to his side as you make your way into the mess.

He makes your tray for you, plating up your favorites before carrying it to the table. You’re the first ones there, the other three still missing. You don’t care, digging into your tray immediately to try and ease the ache in your stomach. It’s like you’ve traded now, the ache in your pussy for the ache in your stomach.

You're halfway done with your tray by the time the others take their seats, not even pausing shoveling food in your mouth to acknowledge their presence.

“Slow down, love. Food’s not going anywhere.” Kyle says, patting your back gently.

“Hungry.” Is all you say around bites of sausage.

“How much of a workout did ye put her through last night?” Johnny asks Kyle.

Kyle smirks, glancing down at you before looking at Johnny. “Apparently a good one.”

The dig into their own trays, eating slowly as you continue to inhale your food until there’s nothing left. The scrape of your spoon against the tray has you pouting, your stomach still rumbling. You’re half tempted to lick the tray to get up every last bit of food off of it.

“What?” Simon asks, looking at you as you pout.

“Still hungry.” You say, pushing your empty tray away from you, resting your elbows on the table and your head in your hands.

They all share a look, pausing in their own eating. You feel like crying, the gnawing in your stomach relentless and uncomfortable.

“Love...” Kyle says, his tone hesitant, like he’s about to deliver horrible news.

It will be horrible news. The pieces are beginning to come together now. Waking up not horny after nearly a week of being horny, the insatiable hunger, your pouty attitude.

You lift your head from your hands, your arms dropping onto the table. You don’t look at them, already knowing what you’d see if you did. They’ve put it together faster than you have, your stomach swirling with emotions. You’ve lost track of time, not even thinking about how much time has passed, how the weeks have flown by. Dr. Keller had mentioned it briefly, but you had been in too much of a horny daze to really comprehend it.

There’s a pit in your stomach, the panic from earlier starting to bubble up again, but this time for a different reason. You feel like crawling under the table and curling up in a ball, that, or stealing Johnny’s tray to finish off the eggs he’s not eating nearly fast enough. You take in a deep breath, trying to steady the sudden onslaught of overwhelming emotions

“Fuck.”

NEXT ->

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #poly 141 x reader #141 x reader #captain John price x reader #captain price x reader #Simon ghost Riley x reader #Ghost x reader #kyle gaz Garrick x reader #gaz x reader #Johnny soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse

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biteyoubiteme · 5 months ago

Text

pretty boy; bloody nose

fem!reader x bangchan

synopsis: you're a doctor at a hospital where Chan comes after a fight.

warnings: 🔞!!! boxer!chan, blood, broken bones, bruises, praise, unprotected sex, creampie, thigh riding if you squint, 'pretty girl' used once, choking (m!rec), prob forgot some sorry

wc: 4k

an: all the photos of chan at or for the Fendi show have me gagged lol feedback is appreciated!! :)) [m.list] check out my other chan fic :)) [am/pm]

It was your starting shift when Chan came in. clutching his bloody nose with one bruised hand and pressing his other one to his wounded side. “my savior,” he smiled, dimpled cheek prominent even through the pain. He had blood in his mouth, teeth tinted pink with it.

“Someone had a good night,” you laugh flipping open his chart, “says some minor pain but you seem to have lied seeing as you are currently bleeding right in front of me and you didn’t log it,”

“my nose is fine, it was checked out by my coach, it should stop bleeding soon,” the rag he has to his face soaked through with red. “and I’m not a liar it’s only a bit painful and I wouldn’t have come in if I wasn’t contractually supposed to,”

“uh huh,” you nod, tapping your pen against the clipboard you held. “So your nose doesn’t need to be set because your coach, who may or may not have any medical background, said so?”

his smile widened and the cut on his eyebrow started to leak again from the movement. “exactly,”

“and I don’t need to see what you’re hiding right there,” you point with your pen to his fingers cupping his hip.

“nope, I’m mainly a bit sore around the arms, so minor pain. I am not a liar,” he shrugs and you let yourself fully take him in past his injuries. He's slouched back against the hospital bed, his white tank splattered with his blood, gray sweatpants slouchy on his hips. if you could see his whole face without his hand in the way you’re sure he’s gorgeous essentially with a smile like that. what you didn’t like was to watch someone's cocky ass waltz in and say they aren’t hurt when it’s obvious they are.

“well I am also contractually obligated to give you the best care I can offer and as your doctor, I’m here to say I can’t let you go without an exam,”

“full body?” his tongue running across his teeth as you roll your eyes. it wasn’t exactly professional to let your annoyance show but you didn’t think he would run and tell someone.

“let's start with your nose,” you turn placing your clipboard down and picking up a pair of gloves, “lean your head back,”

Chan follows your orders as you walk around the bed to his side.

“How did you end up here?” you ask, lifting the rag from his face. His nose wasn’t bleeding as much as it must have been earlier but it was still messy. And even with blood smeared all over, he was one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen especially as he grinned up at you.

“fighting,” he shrugs.

“Is this the part where you tell me that I should see the other guy?” you reach over to grab some clean gauze before cleaning up his upper lip.

“Maybe,” he dragged out the word, the smile as flirty as ever.

you lightly press your finger to his nose to check if it’s broken but only feel a little swelling. “keep your head back to stop the bleeding. let's now see your side and then we will tape up your eyebrow,”

“I’m perfectly fine,”

“Not unless I say you are, come on let me see,”

Chan is slow to lift his shirt but when he does his side is covered in deep purple bruises. “you're going in for a CT,”

“what? no, I'm fine it was a few hits nothing I haven't felt before,”

“better safe than sorry I'm sure you've heard that saying before. next time don't go getting into fights,”

“It's kinda my job,”

“pretty boys like you shouldn't be fighters, and they shouldn't be putting their perfectly healthy bodies in distress, we need to check for any internal bleeding,” you peel your gloves off tossing them in the bin along with any bloodied gauze, chan's head still laid back as he watches you, “a nurse will be in to take care of your eyebrow and take you for the CT,” you pick up his chart, penning in the request.

“You're not going to take me?”

“I'll be back in to discuss the results it shouldn't be too long a wait it's slow tonight,” you didn't look up from his chart as you said it but you did when he said, “I want you to take me,” it's not suggestive in any way but the way that he says it is, deep and throaty like an invitation. his head lobbed to one side watching you, eyes leaving a trail of heat up your body as they trace your figure.

“I will see you after your results come back,” you say, rushing to get out as fast as possible. it was frowned upon to flirt with patients no matter how hot they looked or how willing they seemed to flirt back. you went on your rounds before getting Chan's results, the nurse bringing them to you with a smile.

“he will not stop talking about you,”

“What?” but you can feel your heart thumping all of a sudden.

“asking questions and whatnot,” she giggles as you pull out his scans. “Does she usually work Thursdays? Is she seeing someone? going on and on,”

“about me?” You're a little shocked but trying to play it off.

“if you don't give him your number I will hand mine over,”

“We cannot give our numbers out to patients,” but your blush is hot on your face. who would know you gave him your number? no one. “we will both be out shortly please have his discharge paperwork ready,”

“Should I put your number on it?” she jokes and you roll your eyes before pushing his room door open.

“no internal bleeding,” you say once you close the door. “but you should ice your side the swelling will go down soon,”

“I told you nothing was wrong, he couldn’t hit hard enough to cause internal bleeding anyways,” Chans sitting up now with his legs off the bed.

“you should be getting checked regularly for damage that is visible, especially if you have pain,”

“It was only a little pain,” he rolls his shoulders back making his tank top stick to his pecks.

“you should take an over the counter pain med and then try to avoid fighting,”

“Now where’s the fun in that? if I hadn’t been sent here I wouldn’t have met you,” dimples on display just for you.

“uh huh sure,” you wave at him to stand, “Let's get you out of here before you steal the hearts of the nurses,”

“the only heart I’m interested in is yours,” it’s cheesy but you can’t help the smile it gives you. “Let's go,” you laugh, pulling open the door for him. when he walks out he turns to face you moving backwards.

“if I got into another fight would I be able to ask for you specifically or would you need to give me a number to hold onto just in case?”

“flirty and shameless,” you say, walking him to the front desk to check out.

“that did not answer my question,”

“I’m sure you could find me in the hospital directory if you looked hard enough,”

“and if you’re not working? will it go straight to voicemail or will I somehow be able to get you over to take care of me?”

“for someone who didn’t need my help at all for his little bit of pain, he sure is worried for his safety now,”

“I was told by a gorgeous doctor that I should be concerned with putting my perfect body and pretty face in the line of fire,”

“I said you had a perfectly healthy body,” you shake your head at him.

“You did say my face was pretty tough,” he leans against the desk elbow propped up to the perfect height to flex. “And I'm sure I can show you how perfect my body can be,”

“goodbye Chan,” you wave your fingers in his direction walking away before you embarrass yourself in front of your coworkers.

It's only a week later when you see Chan's chart in front of you again. “This one was asking for you by name,” the nurse comments.

“of course he was,” but even as you say the words you can't help but feel the fluttering in your stomach. most people who came in you didn't see again and if they flirted you were happy to see them gone but Chan wasn't making you feel that way.

he was alone in his room when you went in. laid out on the bed with his hand to his nose. It was like deja vu only now his tank was black instead of white. blood dripping down to his lips that smile directed at your heart. his eyebrow looked better but was still slightly discolored from last week.

“I think this time it's broken,” but he's not showing any pain if it's the truth.

“your nose again? you’re too pretty to be taking punches to the face,” you pull on a pair of gloves walking over to inspect him.

“That's why they do it, they are jealous,” he lifts away the gauze the nurse must have given him.

His nose is clearly broken and needs to be set. you press your finger lightly to the bridge checking out the bone. Chan's eyes flutter shut and he lets out a weak moan, so soft that you probably wouldn't have heard it if you weren't so close to his face. you try to ignore the sound feeling along his cheekbones but when you press to the corner of his eye he lets out another soft whine.

“I'm going to have to reset it,” you say pulling your hands away from him, “you can set up an appointment-“

“can't you just do it now? I don't think I'll need all the fuss of local anesthetic i think I can handle it,”

“It's going to hurt,”

“it didn't hurt much when I was hit I'm sure it won't be too bad the other way around,”

“You know it's okay to admit when it's painful,” you say, prodding again at his nose, he gives another soft moan at the touch, shifting his hips and leaning further back.

“I like it, so even when it's a little painful I don't mind,”

you move to grab a splint for his nose before preparing him, “I'll be quick so you shouldn't feel much but it will still hurt,” this wasn't the first time you've had to fix someone's broken nose but it would be the first time you were worried about messing up someone's face. you had full trust in your abilities but your anxiety was not helping.

Chan crossed his arms nodding before you pressed the heel of your palm to his nose, “Deep breath,” he followed your instructions and without warning you reset his nose. He flinched knuckles bleached from holding on so tight to himself, moaning as you pulled your hands back. you grabbed the split to finish the job, “see quick and easy,” his voice thick before he clears it. “I think I need a minute,”

“I can get something for the pain real fast,” you say tugging off your gloves already moving to get the meds.

“no no I don't need that, I just need a second,” his head is leaned back, throat exposed, arms still crossed while he shifts his hips again drawing your attention to his waist. you can clearly see the outline of his hard bulge through his gray sweatpants.

“Oh!” you turn around fast to try and give him some form of privacy feeling your face get hot. “I um- I'll just-“ you cut yourself off picking up his chart and moving to the door. you close the door as he tries to say something but you’re already down the hall trying not to think about what you saw. you don’t really care it’s not the first time you’ve seen someone turned on in the hospital although all the other times you rolled your eyes. Now you’re stuttering and trying not to think of Chan in a way that could get you into trouble.

but it’s all you can think about.

how long would he need? would he be actively trying to get rid of his problem mentally or physically? what would have happened if you had stayed? would it have been beyond awkward or would you officially have to resign for having sex while on shift?

you give Chan's chart to another doctor to check over your work and send him off. you didn’t want to go in and embarrass him or embarrass yourself for that matter. so you hid like a coward.

it was a rare night off for you and you took the opportunity to spend it with your old friends.

at a nightclub on a busy strip downtown your friends decide to bar hop. you had a late shift tomorrow anyway and didn’t care about sleeping in. At the third bar, your friend's boyfriend starts talking about a fight happening across the street. “the guy's undefeated I swear I just wanna see the end,”

“If you’re dragging us along you’re paying the entrance fee,” your friend says before another pipes up, “and a drink each!”

“Fine, fine let’s go, it's already started!” all of you rush across the street joining the moving queue as people file into the building.

You can hear the cheering already, the announcer shouting over the speakers, your shoes sticking to the floor as if you were still at the bar. but this is far from it, people are jostling each other around, and the seats all first come already full. it’s not until you’re making your way up the steps of the bleachers that you see who’s in the ring.

Chan is shirtless and glistening with sweat, hair stuck down across his forehead, lip bleeding around his mouth guard. muscles rippling as he delivers a blow to his opponent.

you’re almost shocked still and unmoving in your walk up to a seat. someone behind you tries to move past you and you stumble, unaware of your surroundings.

Chan doesn’t know why he looks up because he always tries to focus solely on the person in front of him determined to beat him. but he does let his eyes flicker up to the stands to see you apologizing to someone moving past you. He's caught off guard by your presence and the right hook that makes his head snap away from you.

the crowd shouts in disapproval as you take your seat. Chan is now bleeding from his nose like every other time you’ve seen him. The droplets of blood fell to his toned stomach each breath pushing the trail of blood further down.

you’ve never been into fighting, not watching or participating but now you’re fully invested. you don’t even want a drink when your friends ask if you need anything. your eyes follow Chan as he delivers hit after hit to the man in front of him. and when they call a winner you’re up out of

your seat cheering along with the rest of the watchers.

“omg is he looking at us? I swear he’s looking right at us,” your friend laughs next to you.

Chan is in fact looking up the stands at you. That dimpled smile on full display after he’s taken his mouth guard out. when he sees you looking back he mouths ‘Wait for me’ and you’re putty. you don’t even try to think that he could have been talking to someone else because you’re delusional enough not to give a fuck.

when you make it down to where Chan is signing autographs you’re a little nervous after how you left things. but that goes away when he grins, split lip reopening. “my favorite medical professional,”

“I thought I warned you not to get your pretty face in the way of someone’s fist?”

“How else am I supposed to see you if I don’t come in needing your assistance?”

the crowd around you is clearing and you’ve already told your friends not to wait on you so when Chan asks, “Can we talk?” nodding his head in the direction of the locker rooms, you don’t turn him down.

He leads you to the hallway just out of the way from everyone else. “I wanted to apologize for the last time I saw you,”

“no no, I should apologize I shouldn’t have given you someone else to work with,”

“no really I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable I swear I was trying really hard not to have any kind of reaction I just-“

“It's okay truly I wasn’t uncomfortable it’s natural although I've never reset someone’s bones and had that happen-“

“I'm sorry,” he chuckles, rubbing at the back of his neck, arm flexing and you realize he’s still shirtless. all finely toned muscles on display the damp towel used to wipe away any blood and sweat thrown over his shoulder. but a spot of blood had been missed right at the band of his shorts. without thinking you reached out to brush it away with your thumb.

Chan and you stood frozen, his breath shallow as he watched your finger wipe at his skin just low enough to send a shiver down his spine.

“Are you doing anything else tonight?” he asks when you pull away.

“you were just in a fight and you still want to go out?”

“with you? yes. With anyone else? no,” you’re standing close together and when someone walks past to reach the locker room door Chan moves in blocking you against the wall. your hand comes up and rests on his ribs, his bruises gone from his first visit only now to be replaced with fresh ones.

he’s leaning down close to you as another person moves around you two to enter the locker room. Chan's breath fanning your ear before he whispers, “We don’t have to go out, we could stay in…”

he technically was not your patient, you weren’t at work and you weren’t obligated to deny yourself anymore. not when Chan was standing here willing and you were wet from just watching him win his match.

“Okay,” your voice was low and weak but all the confirmation Chan needed to pull you along after him.

past the locker rooms are a few offices and Chan knows there’s a secluded restroom right by there. you don’t even think twice as he shuts the door behind you locking it. you’re both on each other the second Chan turns around. hot and heavy kisses down your neck and over your collar as Chan palms your ass over your short skirt. your hands tugging at his hair but not the way Chan likes, “harder,” he breathes between kisses, “I want it to hurt,” and when you do his moan is music to your ears.

Chan walks you back into the wall pressing you against the tile next to the sink.

“When I thought about fucking you I never imagined you dressed like this,” Chan lifts your leg to his hip, hot hand running under your thigh and up under your skirt.

“disappointed we can’t play doctor?”

“I don’t care as long as I finally get to have you,” Chan's free hand slides up under

your shirt palming you over your bra. his mouth is back on yours as he wedges his knee between your legs. his thigh placed right against your clothed clit.

Chan's hand fits right in the pit between your hip and thigh, fingers digging in as he pulls you forward on his thigh.

your hips start to move against him, moaning into his mouth as you rock back and forth against him. “My pretty girl wants me so bad,” he breathes, planting kisses down your jaw. “I can already feel how wet you are for me,”

with anyone else you would have been embarrassed about how needy you were but you didn’t care with Chan. not when he had been on your mind for weeks now, when every time you got off recently you had been imagining Chan's fingers doing the job instead of your own.

Chan taps your other leg muttering, “Jump,” and you follow his orders, Chan moving to set you down on the sink’s countertop. He pulls away, hooking his fingers in your panties and tugging them down your legs. He stays on his knees leaning over to kiss you on your inner thigh. you tug off your shirt tossing it on the counter next to you.

you cup Chan's jaw letting your thumb run over his bruised bottom lip, your finger moves over his nose brushing down the slope. Chan's smile is lazy, his gaze pouring over you. “you’re healing nicely,”

“to have your hands all over me I’d make a million more visits, and,” he lifts himself until his lips are brushing yours, “I love the pain,”

you slip your hand into the waistband of Chan's shorts wrapping your fingers around his stiff length. He moans loudly against your cheek as you stroke him. Chan's hand pushes under your skirt pressing his thumb into your clit, circling slowly.

“I can’t wait anymore,” Chan grunts pushing your skirt up higher around your hips, dragging you closer to the edge of the counter before you remove your hands from his already leaking cock.

Chan pushes down his pants to free himself before he’s lining up with your entrance.

he doesn’t hesitate to thrust in fully pressing his pelvis to yours. both of you moan out your arms wrapping around his shoulders. chan inches out before slowly pushing back in. You whine, laying your head back until it’s laid against the mirror.

you wrap one of your hands around Chan's neck, “is this okay?”

Chan nods, “Harder please harder,” you squeeze enough to make his eyes flutter, the same way they had when you were back in the hospital fixing his nose, his hips finally picking up pace. every drag of his cock makes a bolt travel down from your spine to your knees. your back arching, Chan drags his teeth down your throat.

your free hand scratches down Chan's back and you move your hips to meet his, trying to build any friction.

“you feel so deep,” your voice not sounding like you as Chan angels himself up brushing against your g-spot. your legs wrapped around him shake at the contact, your walls squeezing around his cock.

“I wanna hear you cum for me,” Chan moves his fingers between you rubbing your clit until you see spots, knowing exactly what you needed.

Chan picks up his thrusting pace, punishing you with his cock, tip pressed right against the deepest part of you. “cum inside me please,” you beg, your nails usually nicely kept for work scratching him like they weren’t shortened.

His thrusts falter at your words, his moan in your hair loud and echoing in the small room. “please I want it, I want to feel it,” your fingers around his throat give a squeeze and Chan knows he won’t be able to deny you.

with a few sloppy thrusts, Chan is coming hard enough that his upper half gives out, laying on you. your hands leaving his throat and twisting in his hair as he shoots out ropes of hot cum inside you, hips jerking.

The feeling of his release and his fingers on your clit send you over the edge, your legs locking around him as you cry out his name. Chan's slow thrusts help you ride out your high. both of you panting arms wrapped around each other not wanting to let the other go.

clarity starts to set in as you catch your breath, your hair sticking to the back of

your neck. chan pulls out, the slick sound making you pulse around nothing. Chan watches as your combined cum slides out. He lifts your leg under your thigh using his thumb to spread your pussy lips apart watching as more comes out. “Next time I’m at the hospital I won't be able to forget this,” he drags his thumb up to your clit making you jump. spreading the slick around, “I might even ask for you to treat me this well again,”

#bangchan x reader #bangchan smut #bang chan #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids bang chan #changbin #hyunjin #lee felix #lee know #i.n skz #seungmin #kpop smut #skzsmut #han jisung #chan x reader #skz bang chan

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kamaluhkhan · 10 months ago

Text

THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)

read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)

pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)

word count: 8.5k

summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.

warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!

author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it ♡

♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo

(i. you have a sharp tongue)

fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.

"you'll get used to it."

luke sat up to see you climbing through the window.

you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer.

“the shitty mattress?”

“i meant the whole chaos of cabin 11, and the way things work around here in general. if you can get used to the shitty mattress, all power to you.”

your tone was friendly enough, playful even. you smiled at him so comfortably it made luke nauseous.

“good to know.” he tried to smile back at you, but his heart wasn’t in it. “i’m luke, by the way.”

“yeah, i know. i’m —”

“y/n!”

you seemed entirely unfazed as the blond who called your name stormed over to you. you rolled your eyes, something only luke could notice, before turning to her.

“someone stole my candy.”

“i’m very sorry to hear that, maddy. gotta be careful around here.” your voice dripped like poisoned honey, deceptively innocent and sweet.

maddy was not having it. she huffed at you. “it was you, wasn’t it?”

“that depends. did you cheat at poker last night? again?”

some of the chatter throughout the cabin paused, heads turning to listen in.

“what? n-no!”

“then you have your answer, maddy.” you exaggerated a sigh, as though you had already won the fight and were annoyed that she came back for more. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a new camper to show around.”

chiron had already given them a tour, but luke didn’t protest when you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the window with you. your hand was warm in his as you dragged him along to the corner of the cabin where a poorly made ladder waited for you.

“come on.” you started climbing, and only stopped to look down when you realized luke wasn’t following you. “best view of camp. trust me.”

a shiver passed through luke. trust didn’t come easy to him. he also didn’t particularly want to return to a stuffy cabin where all he would do was count reasons he did not want to be there.

so, luke followed you. he sat down next to you on the roof and looked out at the sun shining on his new home, but he couldn't help but be slightly bitter. the gods had gotten all of you into this life of endless danger and battles and monsters, and this was all they had to offer in return: a summer camp.

it just didn't seem fair.

there was something else he noticed then. what was it that chiron had said? camp half-blood was supposed to be a safe haven for all demigods.

“i don’t get it. there are only twelve cabins, but aren’t there, like, a million other gods?”

you straightened your posture then, and turned to luke with a newfound interest.

“camp half-blood only has cabins representing the twelve olympians. apparently, they’re the only ones important enough to have children worth recognizing, and they can’t even do that half the time,” you explained, impertinence laced throughout your words. it seemed like something you could never quite get off your chest.

every demigod knew that the gods didn’t appreciate sarcasm. they didn’t particularly like being called out on their bullshit, either.

you didn’t seem to care; you even rolled your eyes up at the sky, as if challenging zeus himself.

“anyways, that’s why the hermes cabin is so crowded. it takes in campers who are unclaimed or whose parent doesn’t have a cabin at camp. like me.”

“so, who’s your godly parent?”

you fiddled with the leather cord on your neck. it held a few clay beads like the other campers, but there was one silver charm he noticed only you wore — scales, by the looks of it. you clutched onto it.

luke realized that, despite your own advice, maybe you resented having to get used to the way things worked around here, and having to hide your resentment. maybe that was worse than having to sleep on an uncomfortable bed for the rest of your life.

"nemesis. goddess of revenge."

"that's....hardcore."

you scoffed and moved on to twisting the silver ring on your index finger. "a lot of people take it that way, and i think it scares them a bit.”

“so that’s why you’re extra nice to new campers, huh?”

“no, i was just in a good mood today.” you smirked.

“guess i was just lucky, then.”

luke couldn’t help but smile at your laugh — sharp, biting. you nudged your boot against his sneaker, which shifted you closer to him, shoulders practically touching.

“what people don’t understand is that it's more about balance, you know? you do good things, and good things happen to you. at least, they should. you do bad things and….” you pulled out an outrageously big bag of candy, dropped it between you and luke, and winked at him. “you face the consequences.”

“that makes sense.” luke leaned over to grab a handful of gummy bears. “like karma.”

“yeah. exactly.”

you bit the head off a red bear, both of you chewing in silence before you added:

“by the way, i’m sorry about your friend.” you swallowed and caught luke’s gaze.

chiron warned him that word would travel fast around camp about what happened to thalia, and luke had prepared himself for anything — anything but your reaction. there was no pity in your eyes; instead, there was a hint of rage, as though thalia had been your friend, too.

“she deserved more.”

luke’s eyes caught the glint of a knife strapped to your belt. he took another handful of the candy you stole, and he thought about the fire and fearlessness behind your words, and, despite everything, it felt right to be with you then and there.

“yeah,” he finally whispered back. “she did.”

we all do.

neither of you said those words, but the suggestion was there, and it felt like a promise.

(ii. you hold on to every stupid, little detail)

“slow down, tiger.”

your voice echoed throughout the arena, and if luke had been fighting a real opponent, it might have gotten him killed. instead, he just stopped mid-swing, sparing another straw dummy from losing its arm.

“left hand,” you noted as you walked past him towards a bench. “you, my friend, are in need of a break.”

luke loosened the grip on his sword. the only time luke fought with his non-dominant hand was when he had overworked the other. he must have switched an hour ago, but judging by how heavy his arm felt, it could have very well been two.

his curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked through. he could feel a dull pain behind his eyes, and luke was worried that if he stopped to catch his breath, he would pass out. or, even worse, have to face the reality of the shitty news he’d gotten early that day.

“come sit with me,” you urged. “you’re exhausted, tiger.”

luke bristled at your nickname for him.

sure, luke loved that there was something only you called him, a secret kept between you in plain sight, but it was also a reminder that it was harder to hide behind the hero act when you were around.

everyone else at camp figured the nickname was a playful attempt at calling him strong and charismatic. the truth was that luke once told you that his favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes and that he would dream of playing sports as well as tony the tiger. for better or for worse, like most things, you wouldn’t let it go.

case in point: if it was anybody other than you trying to get him to take a break, luke could have just brushed them off with a charming smile and continued swordfighting until his arms fell off, but in the two years since meeting you, luke had never met anyone as stubborn and convincing. like him, it seemed you were willing to fight and shed blood to get your way. luke was never really in the mood to make you bleed, even when feeling like he could burn the entire world down, so he usually gave in to your demands.

as soon as he sat down next to you, you handed him an orange flavored energy drink — his favorite. anything other than water was hard to come by at camp without the enchanted goblets in the dining pavilion, or the right connection in the hermes cabin. he ran out of his stash the other day, but you must have noticed and gotten one of the stoll brothers to smuggle more in.

“thanks,” luke said, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through him when your fingers brushed together briefly.

the two of you looked out at the sword arena, and all the straw dummies that luke had destroyed. you wait for him to take three big gulps of his drink before speaking again.

“i guess chiron and your dad decided you weren’t ready for a quest.”

luke exhaled sharply. “how did you —”

“the only time you’d skip out on capture the flag is if something really shitty happened.” you looked down at luke’s clenched fists, and that seemed to be all the confirmation you needed. “you promised annabeth you'd be there, and it's not like you to let her down."

fuck. he had completely forgotten that tonight was annabeth's first time as team captain. this entire week, she had been prepping a winning strategy. it wasn’t like annabeth needed him to win, but luke was her big brother, and he should have been there. you were right — he had let her down.

the realization made luke’s day go from bad to worse.

"i told her you were helping a new camper with an emergency. she didn't believe it, but she adjusted her strategy and we still won.”

“well, thank the gods everything worked in the end,” luke grumbled.

“don’t thank the gods,” you quipped. “thank annabeth chase for her brilliant mind, and me for covering for your sorry ass.”

when luke didn’t indulge in your usual playful banter, you moved closer to him and brushed some curls away from his eyes. your skin warmed his forehead, and the small gesture made him feel better than he had all day.

“look, i’m not going to give you some bullshit inspirational speech about how the gods don’t get to define what a hero is, or how you don’t need a quest to prove that you’re worthy of being one. we’ve each been through that before, and i have a feeling this won’t be our last time, either.”

“then why are you here?” the question came out harsher than luke had intended it to.

“because she’s trying her best to hide it, but annabeth is really hurt that you didn’t show up for the game. i figured the least you could do is suck it up, come to the campfire, and make her those signature luke castellan s’mores. you could probably use one, too, since you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”

you were right, again. luke was exhausted, he was furious, but most of all, he was starving.

later that night, luke sat next to annabeth and vowed to make her as many s’mores as she wanted. you’d gone to sit with the hephaestus kids, trying to convince beckendorf and nyssa to join your cabin’s post-campfire party at the beach, even though they had to work in the forges early the next morning.

when chiron made his weekly speech, congratulating the winners of capture the flag and thanking the gods for keeping everyone safe, you and luke caught each other’s gaze from across the fire. you rolled your eyes and luke bit back a smile as you turned back to beckendorf. he noticed your knees were practically touching. did you sit that close to everyone?

luke was looking at you for so long that the marshmallow he was roasting fell into the fire, despite annabeth’s warnings. she handed him another one.

"you should tell her how you feel," annabeth said. "stop being a coward."

whether it was the smell of burnt sugar, the heat of the fire, or annabeth’s comment, luke started to feel dizzy. he did his best to shake it off, asking annabeth for a play-by-play of her strategy earlier that night, but he couldn’t quite get rid of the thought of you.

(iii. you don't care if your clothes are stained with blood)

“i just….i can’t fucking believe you, luke.”

“i don’t get why you’re so upset — you’ve never cared about quests before.”

luke was hoping to break the news to you after capture the flag. unfortunately for him, word travels fast around camp.

annabeth had the two of you scouting the east side for the flag, while she and some other athena kids took the west. you hadn’t found anything so far, which meant that you’d spent the better part of an hour bickering over luke’s choice of companions for his quest. a choice that included charles beckendorf and chris rodriguez, and purposefully did not include you, much to your fury.

before you could continue arguing, luke heard the sound of footsteps approaching. he looked over to you, and you already had your shield and sword at the ready.

a few red defenders emerged from the trees. one charged at luke, but you stepped in so he could deal with the other two. one of his opponents went down fairly easily, but the other put up much more of a fight. metal clashed behind him as you kept fighting as well. you might not have been as skilled a swordfighter as luke, but he knew that you could hold your own, at least until he was finished with the person in front of him.

luke parried his opponent’s strike, causing them to take a step closer. he was preparing to disarm them, just as he heard you yelp and stumble to the ground. it only took a millisecond of his attention, but it gave his opponent the opportunity to elbow him in the face. luke felt a crack upon impact, and pain radiated from his nose; he powered through.

he had to finish this fight, and he had to do it fast. you needed him.

his ears were ringing as he finally knocked over his opponent, kicking away their sword and keeping his foot on their chest. luke turned around to see you having turned the tides, the blade of your sword dangerously close to your opponent’s neck.

you locked eyes with luke, and you both understood — it was time to go. the two of you ran through the forest, as far away as you could before having to stop and catch your breath.

luke removed his helmet to get some air, and dropped his weapons. you did the same. you looked at him, brows furrowed.

“your nose.”

luke licked his lips, tasting blood. the triumph of winning that last fight overshadowed the ache of his potentially broken nose. in fact, he liked the image of a ruthless warrior emerging from the glory and gore of battle, that even though he did not bleed ichor like a god, he still had power.

you, on the other hand, didn’t look impressed. instead, you stepped forward and offered the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the blood.

“you don’t have to —”

“i know you think you’re a badass walking around all broken and bloody, but you shouldn’t deny your admirers your pretty face,” you teased.

it was no secret that luke had numerous admirers around camp, a fact you loved to tease him about. he was sure that you relished in how flustered that made him. all you had to call him was pretty boy, and luke could be reduced to a blushing mess.

it was pathetic how much power you had over him.

“besides, i wouldn’t have gotten out of that last fight if you hadn’t taught me that disarming technique earlier. i owe you. it’s what we do. we take care of each other, right?”

he couldn’t argue with that.

a few moments of silence passed as you cleaned his face. something shifted as you worked, the flirtatious grin fading away. when you pulled away, your sleeve was stained a dark crimson.

“just tell me honestly,” you finally murmured. “why don't you want me to join your quest?”

luke was genuinely taken aback by the softness of your voice, now devoid of its usual fire. you wouldn’t meet luke’s eyes, but being that close to you, he noticed they were slightly glazed over.

he had expected you to be angry at his decision. he expected you to yell and argue and try to change his mind. luke hadn’t expected you to be so hurt. so broken.

he hadn’t planned on it, but luke decided to tell you the truth then.

“look, karma, if you come with me, my heart wouldn’t fully be in the quest. i’d be so caught up in….well, you.”

a pause.

“is that a bad thing?”

“not usually, no.”

you smirked a little at that, and luke’s heart skipped a beat. it also made his decision even clearer.

“but i need to be focused for this. i need….” he let out a deep sigh. “i need to prove myself. this is my first real chance, and i can’t fuck it up.”

you met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, your signature spark of confidence returning.

“you won’t.”

you reached a hand up to play with his necklace. luke hadn’t noticed how close you’d gotten until your fingers started tracing over those four clay beads. it made his entire body burst into flames.

“i’ve been wanting to do something for a while. and, aphrodite save me, it might be really stupid, but —”

luke took a lucky guess as to where you were going, and crashed his lips against yours. aphrodite knows that he'd been wanting to do that for a while, too.

he often got drunk on the adrenaline of battle, the glory of winning, but nothing was quite like the rush of kissing you for the first time.

it was messy and urgent, both of you aware that, at any moment, you could be interrupted. your noses were bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. the metallic tang of blood lingered on luke’s tongue, but neither of you seemed to care. you even bit his lip slightly, as if you wanted more. armor sat heavy and cold between your chests, preventing you from getting closer. luke had never loathed the protective gear more.

he made up for it by lodging one hand underneath your jaw, and snaking the other beneath the celestial bronze, beneath the cotton of your shirt, admiring how your pulse quickened under his thumb when he grazed the soft skin of your stomach. you tangled your hands into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. he groaned and felt you smirk against his lips.

luke had kissed a few people before, sure, but never like this: like a knife to the gut, and if you pulled away, luke would surely bleed out and die.

it wouldn’t be a hero’s death, in the traditional sense, but at least he’d die happy.

how many heroes could claim that?

when luke ran out of air, feeling like his lungs were burning, he had to pull away.

you glanced down at luke’s kiss-bitten lips, then back to his eyes. luke flushed under the intensity of your gaze.

“just promise me something, tiger,” you whispered, voice hoarse.

“anything.”

“come back alive.”

luke leaned forward and placed another kiss on your lips, this one much gentler than before.

“i promise.”

(iv. you love like a scar that won't fade)

the nightmares were getting worse.

luke woke up in a cold sweat, taking gulps of air in an attempt to steady his breathing.

“luke.”

your whisper did little to quell the pit of dread growing in his stomach, but it did enough to bring him back down to reality.

he was at camp half-blood (fuck the gods of olympus), in the hermes cabin (fuck you, dad), in a bed next to yours (fuck, if he could tell you what — who — was going through his head, he would).

“i’m…i’m fine,” he murmured back, voice catching slightly on the lie.

like clockwork, you shifted from your bed to his, slipping under the covers. it didn’t matter that it was a hot summer night, and the minute your legs touched his, he could feel himself starting to overheat.

your thumb brushed over the thick edge of his scar, up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye. it had been a year, living with this reminder. a reminder that he had failed, just as much as his father and the olympians had failed him.

luke tried to pretend that he didn’t come back from his quest as a shell of who he once was. after all, it was meant to be his shining moment as a demigod, meant to gain him all the glory and father’s praise he once wished for.

what a fucking joke.

every morning, luke would crawl into a different skin. he welcomed new campers and taught sword-fighting. he laughed with chris and his other siblings and strategized with annabeth for capture the flag. he would be the easy-going, charming, skillful senior counselor who respected the gods and honored them in everything he did.

again: a fucking joke.

nights were different, though, with you so close to him, you who could always see right through him.

every night, luke was a fourteen-year old boy again, with so much rage and resentment he didn't know what to do with it.

of course, you were always you - a bleeding heart underneath layers of armor. you didn't care about fate, or the gods, or the titans. you cared about justice, you cared about what was right and fair.

most of all, you cared about luke.

“you were screaming,” you told him, voice barely cutting through the soft snores and sleeptalkings of your other cabinmates.

“sorry,” he managed. looking at you in the dull moonlight, luke noticed the deep shadows under your eyes.

“it’s fine. you just….you scared me, tiger.”

your hand still rested on his cheek, and for a second, luke hoped you would kiss him, but you didn’t. instead, you told him to try and get some sleep, and sank further into his bed before closing your eyes.

for the hundredth night in a row, luke hoped you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest as you fell asleep next to him.

since coming back from his quest, luke didn’t have it in him to suggest being anything other than friends, and you didn’t push it. there had been a few....moments between you, sure, but nothing more.

luke thought you might have changed your mind, because who would want to be with a bitter, worthless, wannabe hero? then again, that voice haunting his dreams…. luke could change that.

but, at what cost?

(v. you protect people as ruthlessly as a starving dog)

luke could hear you talking to percy jackson outside. though he couldn’t quite determine what was being said, as much as he tried.

you entered the bathroom and instantly caught luke’s eyes in the mirror. you were wearing your faded pyjama shorts with cartoon crows, and a flannel shirt that luke had a sneaking suspicion might have been his. you smiled at him before setting up at the counter, one sink between you.

“what was that about?” luke asked after spitting out a mouthful of minty toothpaste.

“oh, nothing.” you were searching through your toiletry bag for something, and seemed to come up short. “hey, do you have any extra dental floss?”

luke threw some over to you. as you effortlessly caught it, he noticed your knuckles, bruised and bloodied.

“what happened?”

you finished flossing and briefly examined your hands before pulling out your toothbrush.

“it’s not a big deal,” you assured. “some ares kids were picking on percy, and then they started pushing him around, like, really pushing him around, so….”

“....you decided to send them to the infirmary.”

you squeezed some toothpaste on your brush before continuing. “i don’t need you to lecture me about how i shouldn’t be fighting with other campers because i’ve been here longer and i should be a good role model. you know what a good role model does? not let kids beat up other kids and think the worst punishment they’ll get is no dessert for a week.”

luke watched carefully as you jammed the toothbrush in your mouth and brushed with such force, he was worried your teeth might dislodge. he knew that you would shed blood for someone you loved, and that you didn’t particularly care if you had to break rules in doing so, because you believed that what was written was not necessarily what was right.

in fact, luke loved that about you.

no, it wasn’t the fighting that luke cared about — it was who you were fighting for.

percy was a good kid, he really was. luke just didn’t want you getting attached.

“i wasn’t going to lecture you. i’m guessing chiron already did?”

you nodded and spat out what looked like a combination of toothpaste and blood. you rinsed your mouth until the water lost its pinkish hue. once you were done, luke continued his train of thought.

“i just didn’t realize you cared so much about him.”

“about percy?”

luke could tell that he didn’t have your full attention. you were packing your stuff back up, accidentally tossing luke’s dental floss into your bag, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.

“yeah. the kid’s only been at camp for three days, and you’re already acting like his guard dog.”

you finally turned to luke and glared at him.

“maybe. but percy’s sweet and he doesn’t seem like the type to put up with bullshit. he’s been through a lot, and annabeth seems to like him, too. as far as i’m concerned, percy’s one of us, and i’m not going to let anyone push him around.”

luke raised an eyebrow at you. “he’s sweet?”

“yeah. like, just now, he gave me some blue raspberry jelly beans as a thank you. said his mom used to work at a candy store. he also wanted me to apologize to you for him. he feels bad about beating you in sword-fighting earlier.”

you scoffed, like you resented luke for having to apologize to him on percy’s behalf. you definitely did not appreciate that guard dog comment. luke clenched his jaw, seething over what you had just said.

satisfied with his reaction, you gave luke that nauseating smile of yours, tilted your head towards the exit. a truce, because you never liked to fight with luke for too long, and a order, because you knew luke would always follow.

the two of you began walking back to your cabin in the warm mid-june air.

“i wouldn’t say he beat me,” luke huffed. “it was beginner’s luck.”

“sure, tiger. it was beginner’s luck that disarmed the best swordsman we’ve had in the last 300 years.”

you nudged luke’s shoulder with yours, but he recoiled from your touch.

“are you trying to make me feel worse?” luke tried his best to avoid snapping at you, keeping his tone measured.

“i’m just saying that maybe the kid has natural talent and that doesn’t make you any less talented. there’s no need to get jealous.”

luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion.

to be clear, he was not jealous. it’s just that luke had spent years of blood, sweat, and tears getting to where he was then, and percy jackson had just gotten to camp.

and, to be even more clear, luke was not jealous of how you were already defending percy with your whole body and your whole heart, the way you did for him.

by then, you reached the front of the hermes cabin. luke could already hear the commotion of what he would need to deal with as soon as he walked in. the burden of being head counselor, one he approached with an elastic smile that could snap at any moment.

you tugged on luke’s sleeve before he could open the door.

“hey. are we okay?”

luke looked down at your fingers grasping the fabric of a sweatshirt he was just realizing was yours. your nails were painted a dark red, now chipped after a week of wear. you had begged luke to paint his nails then, and once again, he gave in. he even started to like the purple you had chosen just for him, so deep it was almost black. the same color you were wearing the first time you and luke met.

he smiled at the memory — a real smile, no plastic — and then smiled back up at you.

“we’re fine, karma.” and he moved to enter the cabin. luke could hear the threat of an argument bubbling up, what sounded like a petty one over a prank gone wrong.

“wait.” you tugged at his (your) sweatshirt once more. “there’s something i wanted to talk to you about, about tomorrow night—”

“annabeth called a meeting during free time.”

“yeah, i know, it’s just —”

“she’ll run through strategy for capture the flag then.”

“one of the aphrodite senior campers asked me to the campfire,” you blurted it out, and luke decided to ignore the sound of a fight breaking out from behind the wooden door.

what in the name of hades were you talking about?

“they asked you out? like…like a….” luke didn’t even want to speak the word, scared it would make it real.

“a date,” you said casually, as if that one word didn’t rip luke’s heart in a million pieces. “i said yes.” an admission that took all those pieces and set them on fire.

sure, in the seven years since you and luke met, you’d each talked about boys, about girls, about dating and kissing them and going further. but there was something about this one that felt different. something about the way you told him.

“but, listen, i wanted to let you know it’s not —”

“good for you,” was all luke said through gritted teeth before someone started calling his name again, louder and more urgently, and he had to duck inside.

(vi. you taste like burning cherries and righteous anger)

your team had won capture the flag, of course. the biggest news of the evening, though: percy jackson was the son of the sea god.

he was a forbidden child, the hero of the great prophecy.

everything was falling into place.

all luke should be thinking about is kronos’ plan, and his role in it, and how a world without the gods of olympus was that much more in reach.

unfortunately, for the time being, he was so consumed by you.

you, from across the campfire, sporting cutoff denim shorts and fresh wounds from the game earlier. you, who had wrapped your knuckles in gauze, concealing their bruising, fixed the chips in your nail polish and stacked rings on your fingers. (for the record: luke had gifted you the one on your left thumb.) you, with dark lips that whispered too closely and laughed too loudly with a child of aphrodite— jordan li.

you hadn’t so much as looked at luke since congratulating each other on another win. when chiron announced his weekly gratitude to the gods at the start of that night’s campfire, you didn’t punctuate your resentment with your usual eye-roll or biting remark. you were too busy giggling at something jordan said.

luke wanted to be the one to whisper jokes in your ear. he wanted to be the one you left lipstick stains on later, along his jaw and down his neck. he wanted to be the one who kissed the blade mark on your shoulder and the bruises on your knuckles.

and yet, hours passed and it seemed that the thought of luke had never so much as crossed your mind. he found himself at an after hours party with a few senior campers on the beach. a lethal recipe: a poorly crafted bonfire, some contraband drinks and you in jordan li’s lap, playing with their hair and pretending luke castellan did not exist.

meanwhile, luke had katie gardner’s full attention. she was talking to him about the strawberry season, potentially leaning a bit too close into luke’s personal space, definitely flirting with him.

luke could have done a lot worse than the head counselor of the demeter cabin, who always smelled like fresh lavender, whose eyes were the bright green of spring grass and whose lips tasted like golden honey.

the problem was that luke only wanted you, and his eyes kept sliding over to where you were kissing jordan’s cheek, and he accidentally called the girl he was kissing by your name, which did not make her happy.

katie threw her drink in his face, told him to wake the fuck up, and walked away.

a chorus of gasps and chuckles erupted as luke stood there, diet coke and vodka seeping into his shirt. the commotion seemed to capture your attention, because you suddenly appeared next to luke, an empty bottle of cherry soda in your hand.

“rough night, tiger?” your voice, that nickname, made luke sick, his face twisting into a frown. you don’t seem to notice or care. instead, you switched your bottle with luke’s and took a sip.

“looks like you were having a pretty good time,” luke practically sneered. “where’s your date?”

“they went to bed.” you swallowed a mouthful of beer, grimacing at its bitterness. “gods, this is terrible. you and i should go on the drink run next time — we have better taste.”

“so, are you and jordan like a thing now?”

you gave luke a smile he didn’t quite understand, but made his stomach churn in ways only you could. “would that be a problem?”

“of course not.” he answered way too quickly for that to be true.

“let’s get out of here,” you suggested. “i think katie is about this close to strangling you with a tree branch.”

luke glanced over your shoulder to where green eyes glared back at him.

nowhere could luke find it in him to care. he wasn’t even sorry. he just shrugged, took the bottle back from you, took his first sip all night. luke almost gagged (because of course you were right, and the stoll brothers had better fake ids than they had taste) but he suppressed it.

“no. i’m good.”

biggest lie he ever said. like there wasn’t anger caught in his throat and jealousy swelling between his ribs.

“go find jordan,” he taunted. “kiss them, show them a good time! isn’t that the reason why you got all pretty?”

you narrowed your eyes at him carefully. your nostrils were slightly flared, and luke took a bit of pride in being able to rile you up.

“look, we haven’t really talked lately, and i think we should.”

“go find jordan,” he mocked once more. “almost all the aphrodite kids are here, and i’m sure you can be quiet enough to sneak into their cabin and if you want a quick fu—”

“luke.” you clipped his name, obviously getting to the limit of your patience with him. “if you want to stay here all night and be an asshole, you’re welcome to. you should know, though, that your happy-go-lucky hero mask is starting to crack and i don’t know if you could deal with the fallout from it shattering completely.”

you leaned in close and whispered that last part, very aware of the chattering that stopped and the eyes that watched the pair of you anxiously. luke was usually good at hiding that part of himself who wanted to burn the world down.

in ways you didn’t realize, you were right: he couldn’t risk revealing it, not now.

not yet.

“do whatever you want, castellan,” you spat out his last name, the combination of letters foreign in your mouth.“i’m leaving.”

luke should be proud of himself. he waited a whole two seconds before following you like a stray dog.

luke didn’t know if he’d ever felt you that enraged by him, and it horrified him. it also made him hungry for more.

“i’m not sure that jordan would want the two of us alone together at night,” he shouted after you, words echoing into the starless sky.

“gods, enough about jordan!” luke practically ran into you with how fast you turned around to confront him. “i was helping them with that stupid aphrodite tradition!”

“you….” luke faltered, all the snark leaving his body. “what?”

luke remembered silena beauregard once explaining the rite of passage to him: to prove themselves, a child of aphrodite had to make someone fall in love with them, and then break their heart.

“why…why would you agree to do that?”

you had reached the dining area by then, and you sat on one of the steps leading to the pavilion. luke stayed a few feet away, looking at you cautiously.

“jordan and i are already friends, and they figured a fake relationship would be the way to avoid anyone from actually getting hurt in the process.”

“you seemed so…so into it, though,” luke stammered, the memory of you in jordan’s lap, laughter bubbling from your lips, still fresh.

“it’s called acting, dumbass.” the camp didn’t rely on electricity, but there were enough torches around that luke could see you roll your eyes. “anyways, i was trying to give you a heads-up last night, but you wouldn’t listen.” you took a deep breath. “and, honestly, i didn’t push it because….i figured i should test a hypothesis.”

a hypothesis? you’d known annabeth for too long.

“what hypothesis?”

you hesitated.

“it doesn’t matter. fuck, this was stupid,” you muttered, and without another word, stormed through the dining pavilion, a short cut to the hermes cabin. your footsteps fell heavy against the marble, and luke’s not far behind.

“what hypothesis?” he asked again.

nothing but rushed footsteps.

“what hypothesis?” luke finally yelled.

third time was the charm, because you stopped in your tracks and faced luke once again. a fire burned in the bronze brazier, where campers were forced to offer up portions of your food to the gods at every meal. its roaring seemed to captivate you, and the flames danced across your face, illuminating all your curves and edges.

“i’m angry at the gods,” you stated.

this caught luke off guard. from the day the two of you met, luke knew you shared that feeling. you’d gotten quieter with your rage as you’d gotten older. luke supposed he got better at hiding it himself, as well.

“i’m angry at the gods for letting bad shit happen even if they can stop it, and for building this world in the fucked up way they did. i’m angry at your dad for the way he’s treated you, but — you, luke castellan.” you finally met luke’s eyes with a gaze so sharp, luke almost felt himself bleed. “i’m also angry at you, and not just for your bullshit tonight.”

your admission felt like a punch to the stomach, and luke was left with no air to breathe.

did you know?

“you haven’t been the same since your quest,” you continued, words slow and deliberate, the way you spoke when you were worried your voice would shake. “and i’ve come to terms with that in the past few years, but you….you’ve never tried to ice me out before. you’ve been acting distant since december, and it’s been driving me insane. do you realize how much i miss my best …..” you swallowed the word friend. “how much i miss you?”

luke hesitated, because what could he say? i know i’ve been distant, but i’ve been busy trying to start a war between the gods. sorry babe!

would you hate him, if you knew?

you had to have known that, despite the distance, luke missed you. for tartarus sake, in the last two days, he’d driven himself mad at you calling a fourteen year old boy sweet, and he was about to combust at the image of you dating someone else, with little care as to the collateral damage.

"you can't just avoid me, makeout with katie fucking gardner, and then….” you trailed off, hiding your face in your hands. whether it was to hide embarrassment or tears, luke wasn’t sure.

a smirk spread across luke’s face at the revelation that he hadn’t been the only one jealous at the bonfire that night. it lit luke up with the confidence he needed to not completely fall to his knees in front of you, beg for your forgiveness for everything he’s done.

“why do you care if i make out with katie fucking gardner?”

as he waited for a response, luke walked towards you until your back hit one of the marble columns.

“why do you care if i’m with jordan fucking li?” you clenched your jaw and looked right through luke. a clear indication that you wanted him to break down first; it wouldn’t be you who yielded this fight.

“because i want to be the one you’re with.” at that point, luke was so close to you that he swore he could hear your heartbeat. he reached out and played with the hem of your shorts. “why do you care if i make out with katie gardner?”

“because.” you drew in a sharp breath when luke’s fingers brushed underneath the denim, across the warm skin of your thigh. you closed your eyes. “don’t make me say it, tiger.”

the desperation in your voice made luke want to do unholy things with you, to you. luke knew you didn’t think of him as a saint, and you never expected him to be one. the reality was that you weren’t much better, either. what was essentially an altar to the gods burned bright next to you, but it seemed neither of you had ever cared less about it than in that moment.

luke would watch olympus fall. he would dethrone the gods and watch their glass castle shatter and find glory in a new world. in the grand scheme of things, he was willing to lose this battle.

in fact, he would have rather betrayed the titan lord himself than waste another second not kissing your lips.

so, he kissed you, and you kissed him back with such force, such hunger, it was ungodly.

no, you certainly weren’t a saint — but you were divine, in the most brutal, intoxicating way. in the way you shuddered when luke lodged a leg between your thighs; in the way you threaded your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer; in the way the metal of your rings burned through the skin of his hip, right to the bone, which made him shudder, and you smile triumphantly against his jaw.

the more he tasted your smirk flavored by cherry soda and the ashes of nearby flames, the more he felt your feral teeth against his neck and your wicked nails digging into his shoulders, the more you tugged on his curls, the more luke thought: maybe.

maybe you would give into your seething resentment, live up to those eye-rolls and snarky comments that got you in trouble with chiron, on the edge of hot water with the gods. maybe you would join the titan army. maybe, just maybe, this time, you would follow luke.

and yet — maybe wasn’t enough if it meant he could lose this. luke wouldn’t risk it, not until he kissed every battle scar and bruise on your body, and you did the same to his.

“wait.”

it was the last thing luke wanted to do, but he complied. he took the opportunity to appreciate the chaos he created: your shirt in disarray, your lipstick a mess, your chest heaving and desperate to catch a breath.

“i promised jordan that we’d keep up our charade for a week, two at the most. do you think we could keep this…” you tightened your fist around the fabric of his shirt. “a secret until then?”

luke responded by pressing his lips to yours once more, because there were definitely worse secrets to keep.

(vii. you wouldn’t hesitate to make him bleed)

luke had just left percy jackson to die.

he should be leaving camp, now, but he needed to see you one last time.

the universe works in mysterious ways, because you were out on a run through the forest, and you crossed paths before he even had time to wonder where you were.

“hey, tiger.” you smiled as if this was a regular afternoon. the two of you would teach your afternoon activities, sneak away during dinner so luke could kiss you in that spot that made you gasp. “wanna join me? i was just wrapping up, but i could be convinced to go longer.”

for a second, he was tempted to. very tempted.

“i don’t have much time.”

you seemed to notice luke’s sullen mood and you dropped your playful demeanor.

luke explained: the messages from kronos in his dreams, him stealing the lightning bolt and helm of darkness to start a war between the gods and framing percy. the plan to destroy olympus that luke had pledged his life to.

percy was surprised at what luke had done, and luke could imagine that the rest of camp would be, too. luke was the golden boy of camp half-blood, everyone’s big brother.

you, on the other hand, didn’t express any sense of shock.

“luke.” you said his name like you weren’t quite sure it was poison. “i’m going to give you five seconds to tell me that you’re joking.”

five seconds of silence passed. you took a few steps back from luke.

“i….i should have told you sooner.”

“yeah,” you scoffed. “you should have. but, you didn’t. did it feel good, having the titan king whispering sweet nothings in your ear? all the lies about how this war is the only way to get the glory you so desperately want? it’s fucking delusional.”

“it’s not delusional—”

“yes, it is!” you glared at him. “you’re on the wrong side of a war you made the mistake of starting.”

luke straightened his posture, thinking about how hypocritical you were being.

“isn’t this what you’re all about? revenge, karma. your mom will probably join us, too. don’t you want to see the gods finally get what they deserve?”

“not like this. i can’t believe how desperate you are, to believe that kronos is going to make everything right. it’s pathetic,” you spat. “i’m not saying the gods don’t deserve to be taken down a notch. their fucking obsession with power and glory….it’s sick and twisted, but i don’t think your titan king is any better. i don’t think you are any better.”

“it’s time that the gods fall. this is the only way, even if it isn’t perfect,” luke countered. his voice was firmer now as he absorbed your anger. your mother was the goddess of revenge, but you clearly didn't understand the sacrifices, pain, and blood that was required to make the world a better place.

luke just needed to convince you.

“we’ve talked about this for years,” he continued. “nothing is balanced! there’s no justice here, for anyone. we can build a better world where we don’t have to burn our scraps and throw ourselves at monsters to get attention. we can fight together like we always have. y/n, i love—”

“don’t,” you snapped. “don’t you fucking dare. you should have died on your quest.” your voice laced with venom. one hand gripping the knife you always kept on your belt. “that dragon should have fucking sliced through you and saved us all the trouble.”

something pricked in the back of his throat, down to his stomach.

“you don’t mean that.”

“i do,” you promised. “at least you would have died with all of us thinking you’re a hero instead of the traitor you really are.”

you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance.

“i’m not going to fight you,” was all luke could say. he noticed your hand tremble, and you tightened the grip on your knife to prevent emotion from slipping through your invisible armor.

in that moment, you have could slice through luke, and it would hurt less than everything you just said, less than the murderous look you were giving him, like he was just another monster you wouldn’t think twice about sending to tartarus.

luke didn’t even have a chance to unsheathe his sword before you charged at him, but he quickly had you pinned to the ground, the tip of your own knife pointed at you. he hesitated. the blade pressed harder against your cheek than he intended, enough to break the skin and let a few droplets of dark crimson escape.

“please come with me,” he pleaded. you didn’t answer, but you did seem surprised by the softness of his voice.

a few moments passed, the celestial bronze still between you. luke waited for you to see his way, to yield to his proposal.

you didn’t. instead, you took advantage of the situation. you wrapped your leg around his and flipped your position. in the process, you regained possession of your knife. without the hesitation that held luke back, you sliced through his cheek, deep. luke bit his lip to suppress a groan, tasting blood. your gaze set his whole body on fire as he waited for your next move. that was when you glanced down at his camp necklace, and the new clay bead added to commemorate this summer.

a turquoise trident.

“percy told me he was on his way to see you,” you realized. “what did you do?”

luke didn’t answer. he knew then that a choice ran through your head.

and it stung, just a little, watching you sprint away through the trees in a last ditch effort to save percy’s life.

there was a small, pathetic part of luke that wanted you to choose him, even if it meant you would have plunged the knife into his chest.

#this is my baby fr #really feeling the tragic hero vibe down to my core #will prob do a part 2 from reader's POV!#ofc inspired by get him back! bc nemesis!reader....#percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo series #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan angst #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan smut #saf writes #Spotify

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roosterr · 11 months ago

Note

if ur requests are open, could we have like 141 falling asleep on the reader??? like different scenarios for each of them like price falls asleep accidentally and so does ghost while gaz and soap are like cuddling or laying on the reader :) i love ur writing so much <333

the 141 falls asleep on you

wc: 2.1k

hello!!! been struggling to love my writing for like the last month so i really hope you enjoy, and i'm sorry in advance lol its mostly fluffy but i just couldn't help myself with a lil bit of angst :)

price

✹ when you hear the front door open in the middle of the night – or, technically, early morning – the first thought your sleep-addled mind comes up with is that you're being robbed.

✹ with your heart in your throat, you sit up in bed and stare wide-eyed at the bedroom door, but your fear is short lived when a dull thud meets your ears, followed by a familiar curse that has you breathing a sigh of relief.

✹ your husband, coming home at last from a night of drinking with the other members of the taskforce, presumably stubbing his toe on the sofa that hasn't moved an inch since you put it there all those years ago.

✹ with a deep yawn, you get back under the covers and let your eyes fall shut again, the knowledge that it was john downstairs and not a burglar putting your racing heart to rest.

✹ you don't react when he clumsily slips through the door, fighting the laugh that threatens to give you away when you hear him swear under his breath after bumping into yet another piece of furniture.

✹ the cold air sends goosebumps rippling across your skin when he lifts the covers to clamber in beside you, but the chill is quickly chased away by his hands bringing you into his chest and his enveloping warmth.

✹ "and what time do you call this?" you tease in a whisper, opening your eyes to see his guilty ones looking back at you. the slight flush in his cheeks and his half-lidded gaze gives him a boyish charm that you can't even pretend to be mad at.

✹ "sorry darlin', didn't mean to wake you..." he murmurs in return, a sheepish smile pulling at one side of his lips.

✹ "well, i'm glad you had a good time," you punctuate your reply by placing a light kiss on the bridge of his nose, which prompts his smile to grow wider as he hugs your body to his own.

✹ "i'm havin' a better time now, love." he ghosts his lips over yours as he whispers, earning another tiny chuckle from you, his fingers tracing patterns into the skin of your back under your shirt.

✹ you can smell the whisky on his breath as he leans even further into you, and taste it when he closes the distance to devour your lips in a passionate, if slightly messy, kiss.

✹ he sighs into your mouth, his lips falling from yours when he rolls you onto your back to lay his head on your chest, and like a switch, he's dead asleep.

✹ "john?" you whisper, in a sort of disbelief that he was actually asleep just like that, but he doesn't even flinch when you gently poke his cheek. "oh my god…"

✹ once the morning rolls around, you both share a laugh about his drunken state from the night before, and he makes you promise not to tell the boys he passed out in the middle of kissing you.

✹ you just laugh and file it away for future blackmail.

gaz

✹ the two of you were watching a movie late one night, the first time you've had time to yourselves in months thanks to the never-ending workload you both seem to be under.

✹ the dim mood lighting of your flat combined with the comforting feeling of finally being alone with kyle is nearly enough to send you to sleep already, but your want to spent time with him keeps you awake.

✹ kyle watches you stifle a yawn as he presses play on the movie, and tugs you to lean against him with an arm around your shoulders and a teasing grin. "promise you won't fall asleep this time?"

✹ you look up to him from where your head rests against his collar and huff, a smile of your own playing on your lips as you nudge him lightly with your elbow. "maybe i should be the one asking that."

✹ the bags under his eyes leave no question about how tired he really is, but he was the one that insisted the two of you spend time together tonight, despite the exhaustion you knew he was hiding.

✹ "and leave you all by yourself?" he chuckles, "never, love."

✹ a comfortable quiet settles over you while you watch the movie together; kyle's choice, something action-y you've never seen before, but you know he's seen it a million times. he occasionally adds commentary to make you laugh which he, naturally, manages to do every time.

✹ as the movie plays, you gradually migrate to laying on the sofa on your back with kyle between your legs and his head on your sternum. you absentmindedly run your nails over his scalp, gently massaging his head while he hugs your waist.

✹ it's about two-thirds of the way through the movie that you realise kyle hasn't said anything in a while. you pause your ministrations, smoothing over his curls as you turn your gaze from the screen to where he lays on top of you.

✹ a soft smile lights up your face when your eyes land on his blissfully relaxed features, sound asleep and breathing in time with the steady rise and fall of your chest.

✹ you continue to watch the movie in silence, occasionally petting kyle's hair when he grumbles in his sleep. he deserves the rest, you muse, and something about how peaceful he looks means you can't even entertain the idea of disturbing him. and you would definitely tease him that he fell asleep like he said he wouldn't.

✹ even once the movie has finished, and your back has started to ache from the position against the armrest, you still don't dare wake him. tomorrow was an off day for both of you, so there was no need to go anywhere – as if you would ever want to, intertwined with your boyfriend and surrounded by his warmth.

✹ you close your eyes, give him one last squeeze, and whisper into the silence, "sweet dreams, kyle."

soap

✹ it wasn't supposed to happen like this.

✹ everything was supposed to go smoothly, you'd get what you came for, and you'd be home in time for dinner.

✹ but it hadn't happened like that of course it didn't. you were on your way out, with johnny by your side, when a sudden noise from behind you caught your attention.

✹ you spin around to see a dishevelled soldier aiming their gun at you, but you noticed just a second too late. you can do little more than watch as they pull the trigger, a sick sense of horror travelling up your spine as time seems to slow down.

✹ there's a split second where you brace to feel the bullet lodge somewhere in your body, but that impact never comes.

✹ with a speed you didn't know he possessed, johnny tackles you to the ground and out of the path of the bullet, landing on top of you and pushing the air from your lungs.

✹ you lay winded underneath him, the sound of him returning fire vaguely reaching your ears but it takes a second for your mind to catch up.

✹ it’s quiet by the time you come back to your senses, johnny already pulling you to stand with a strained grunt.

✹ "johnny?" you frown, taking note of how he favours one side when he urges you to start walking again, "you okay?"

✹ "fine, darlin’, let’s just–" he winces, stumbling ever so slightly and trying to play it off by pushing you in front of him, "let’s just get home, aye?"

✹ your frown deepens. you turn around and stop him with your hands on his shoulders, and it's then that you notice how laboured his breathing has become.

✹ "you're not fine, soap!" your heart sinks as you watch the patches of blood on his leg grow steadily darker, "why didn't you tell me you were hit?"

✹ he doesn't flinch at the anger in your voice, or when you haul his arm over your shoulder and resume dragging him the rest of the way to the helo. he mumbles incoherent that sounds like an apology, but your only focus is getting him to safety and stopping the bleeding.

✹ the others are already waiting for you as the exfil site comes into view, and the moment they spot you shouldering johnny's weight they spring into action to help you.

✹ johnny is dragged up the ramp and made to lay on the floor as gaz and ghost make short work of packing the bullet wound in his thigh with gauze.

✹ you lift his shoulders and head to rest in your lap, grimacing at the pained groans he lets out when ghost puts his weight on the wound.

✹ "why didn't you tell me?" you utter, tilting his head back with your hands on his cheeks and meeting his distant gaze with your brows knitted together in concern.

✹ he musters a weak smile and lets his eyes flutter shut, the muscles in his face visibly relax. "i’m fine… ‘slong as yer okay, bonnie…"

ghost

✹ sometimes you wondered if ghost ever slept.

✹ he would always volunteer himself for the first watch, and he was up before you without fail every morning. on base he always seemed to be in the gym before everyone, and in his office after everyone else has left. he was frustratingly elusive.

✹ it worried you, that perhaps he had trouble sleeping. it made sense, however saddening, that someone like him wouldn't sleep well, but it was even worse that he brushed off your concern for him with practised ease.

✹ he made sure to take care of others, but wouldn't let you try and do the same for him. perhaps he thought you were joking, or that you were only being courteous, but your mind always goes back to one thing; the theory that, for some people, it's only possible for them to fall asleep when they feel safe.

✹ you wanted to be that for him, like he was for you.

✹ you do your best to forget about your rejected concerns for him, and the thought all but slips your mind until a mission two months later.

✹ it was long, drawn-out, and gruelling, and all you wanted to do was get home and have a shower hot enough to melt your skin. it had been almost a week since you've had a moment to catch your breath, and you were more than thankful to be on the way home.

✹ even if that meant being squashed into the back of an suv with soap passed out on your left and ghost on your right. gaz called shotgun and wouldn't give it up for anything, so here you were, shoulder to shoulder with the lieutenant you may or may not harbour feelings for.

✹ the five of you have been on the road for a couple of hours now. the conversation has died down by now and and the quiet hum of the radio was the only sound, besides soap's intermittent snores.

✹ you're on the verge of passing out yourself when a weight drops onto your shoulder, and you have to fight yourself not to jump with the start it gives you.

✹ your tired eyes look to the source and to your utter surprise, they find the dark fabric of ghost's balaclava resting against you, and when you tilt your head you can see the blond of his eyelashes against his cheeks.

✹ the sight brings a smile to your face. as subtle as possible, you shift as much as the limited space of the backseat will allow so his neck isn't bent at such an awkward angle.

✹ he fell asleep on you. perhaps it was just because of the exhaustion this mission left him with, but you like to think back on your theory from weeks ago as you admire the restful expression he wears.

✹ your stop fighting your own exhaustion and let your eyes fall shut, and with your last thread of consciousness you file this memory away for later, and hope that it really does mean that he feels safe with you.

5K notes · View notes

sooniebby · 1 month ago

Text

ఌ 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑

w.c › 16k

warnings › Part 2 for this post. Ye-Jun is insane. This relationship is pure toxicity, pls don’t stay with someone like this in real life lol. Translations/songs I used at the end. Homophobia/talk of revenge porn of a minor at the end (it’s not done by Ye-Jun)

plot › Kim Ye-Jun is back in your life. And he doesn’t seem too keen on leaving you anytime soon. While you get insight on how brutal fame can be

kinks › size difference, hate sex, oral sex, manhandling, marking, biting, choking, dubcon, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, sub/dom undertones

words to know › maknae (막내) — youngest. Hyung (형) — a term a younger male with call an older male. Jagiya/Jagi (자기야) — “sweetie/baby.” Knets — Korean Netizens, Korean people on the internet. Dispatch — a Korean blog, known for exposing kpop idols relationships

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟮

𝙈𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙚

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

You had left Ye-Jun that night.

It was nerve wracking to get dressed silently as you watched him like a hawk. Your heart pounding in your chest. You weren’t even sure why you were so fearful. But you managed to leave as quiet as a mouse.

You practically sprinted out of the hotel room as the sun was just rising. Your legs carrying you to the bus before you were driven back to the outskirts of Seoul.

Your feet dragged along the ground as you finally reached your apartment building, wanting to collapse onto your bed for the rest of the day.

“Hyung…!”

You froze, finger pressed against the touch pad. The numbers illuminated as they waited for you to press in the passcode. What?

The time was only 8 am. Dohyun was serious about you not coming over until 10 am. Shit, did they really fuck all night?

Another high pitched moan escaped the apartment as you couldn’t help but smirk. Young-Jae was the youngest out of him and Dohyun. So that meant the one screaming had to be him.

It was funny. Young-Jae the strict top that wouldn’t let you even ask if you could top when you were both fuck buddies. You couldn’t even touch or squeeze his ass. The thought of him bottoming wasn’t anything you even imagined.

Dohyun was more muscular than him. Though Young-Jae was taller and had been growing some muscular these past few months.

You knew not every top had to be tall and muscular. But you couldn’t imagine Dohyun bottoming despite his nicer attitude. But Young-Jae hated the thought of bottoming.

An oddly detailed thought of Dohyun and Young-Jae fighting filled your mind. The idea of them fighting for dominance before Dohyun forced Young-Jae to submit was sexy. You giggled to yourself at the thought before a whine from the apartment interrupted you.

A sane person would’ve just left and come back.

But you weren’t exactly sane.

Besides, everyone in the band has seen each other naked once. You’ve unfortunately seen Won-Shik’s bare ass more times than you count. You would just act shocked and pretend you forgot all about Dohyun’s text from last night.

You typed the passcode onto the touch pad. The familiar hum of the lock twisting before you pushed the door open.

“I’m—!”

Your jaw dropped at what you saw on the couch.

Lee Young-Jae was a strict top. Because he had Park Dohyun bouncing on his cock.

Park Dohyun was the one moaning “Hyung”?! Was that a kink?! An older man calling the younger man “Hyung” during sex seemed so odd but also oddly sexy. You could only stare for a moment, trying to process what you were seeing right in front of you.

It was hot too so you were enjoying the sight of Dohyun’s ass. Shit, it was fat.

“Cho (Name)! Get out!” Young-Jae suddenly yelled, grabbing a couch pillow and throwing it over at you.

You shrieked, managing to dodge. Your eyes went back to Dohyun and Young-Jae. Young-Jae looked mostly smug as he tightened his grip on Dohyun’s waist. Dohyun seemed out of it for the most part, his eyes glossy as he buried his face in Young-Jae’s neck.

“Okay! Okay… I’m leaving. You better be finished by 10 am!!! Dohyun Hyungie promised I can come back by then.. also you better deep clean the house, pervert.”

Young-Jae ignored you, absentmindedly pointing to the front door. You rolled your eyes and left the apartment, slamming the door shut behind you.

You went to the apartment right next door, Dohyun, Yuki, and Won-Shik’s apartment, and punched in the code.

Curses were at the tip of your tongue as you walked inside. You got ready to announce your arrival when you noticed Yuki on the couch. He looked nervous, a shy smile on his lips. Your eyes trailed down and a groan left your throat.

Junho was giving Yuki a hand job.

“All of you are perverts!!! Oh my god!! How can you feel safe to do it on the couch?! Perverts!! I’m going to Won-Shik’s room, because at least he has the decency to rent a hotel room when he wants to fuck someone!!!”

You stormed off to Won-Shik’s room while Junho called your name. Yuki bit his lip as he tried hold in his laugh. The door slammed shut right behind you as you laid down on Won-Shik’s bed.

Perverts!

Junho frowned at the sight of you. He had been worried about you all night. Wanting to check on you, he moved to get up when a hand tightened itself on his hair. He winced and glanced up to see a grin on Yuki’s lips.

“I don’t think I gave you permission to stop, Junnie. (Name) can be alone for a few more minutes.”

For fucks sakes.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Where’s your boyfriend, Ye-Jun? Did he leave you again?”

“Shut the fuck up, Minji.”

Ye-Jun plopped down onto the couch in the recording studio, sending a glare to Minji who was cackling beside him. The band was recording for an upcoming single. Ye-Jun was late by an hour and had unfortunately woken up to the feeling of an empty bed.

You really knew how to piss him off.

“Don’t bully him, Minji. Ye-Jun has a sensitive heart.” Shion said, stepping out of the recording booth. “He’ll go crazy if you remind him his boytoy left him like a one night stand.”

Manager Riwoo sighed. “Can you boys not talk about that type of stuff during recording? You’re not the only ones in here.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking ready to retire at the ripe age of 30.

Shion shrugged. “It’s just you and the composer. Everyone knows by now how much Ye-Jun has an unhealthy obsession with Cho (Name).”

“It’s not unhealthy.” Ye-Jun muttered.

Minji released another cackle at Ye-Jun’s audacity as he walked into the recording booth to record his lines. His laughter could still be heard despite the padded room. Manager Riwoo shook his head and turned his attention over to Minji and the composer.

The couch dipped as Shion plopped down beside Ye-Jun, resting his arm on the others shoulder. Shion was the eldest of the band but had passed on leadership onto Ye-Jun. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t put Ye-Jun into check whenever he deemed necessary.

Like now.

“I don’t care if Cho (Name) has the tightest ass you’ve ever fucked. You better keep yourself contained in public.” Shion whispered, leaning in close so only Ye-Jun could hear.

“Those Knets are sharks, waiting for the slight hint of controversy. Control yourself. Be unhinged in private. Don’t pull a stunt like that at the music show again, okay?”

Ye-Jun rolled his eyes. “Should I stop commenting on his posts?”

“I would like that but you have a limit on how much you listen to your hyung, don’t you?”

A smirk pulled on Ye-Jun’s lips as he tilted his head. Shion looked unimpressed as he sighed.

“Just start liking all of their posts. Knets only like the thought of you possibly being gay. The chance that you are actually gay will be a death sentence.” Shion tapped Ye-Jun’s shoulder before standing up, grabbing his baseball cap to put on.

“I’m heading out, Riwoo Hyung.”

The door closed behind Shion as Ye-Jun watched him leave. It wasn’t like he didn’t take Shion’s words to heart. He knew he was right. Fans only liked the thought of an idol being gay. Him being a band member wouldn’t mean much when many kpop idol fans merge with regular kband fans.

They were rapid and insane either way. Ye-Jun knew he tested his luck that day when he kissed you on stage.

Even though he wanted you—he did love his job.

He sighed. He’d get a headache if he continued to think about this any longer. He pulled out his phone and checked the time.

There was something more important right now.

The fact you thought you could leave him without saying goodbye.

Again.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“I really am the only straight man here.” Won-Shik moaned, resting his face in his hands as he silently cried to himself. You patted him on back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to comfort him.

Young-Jae still looked smug. “Lighten up, Hyung! Maybe you’ll find a man you wanna fuck and become gay!”

Won-Shik looked over at Young-Jae with a shocked face. “Don’t even say that… I can never abandon the touch of a woman! I’ll be a fool to trade that in for a man’s disgusting hands.”

“Bisexuality exists. Anyway, Jae-Ah, don’t say that. It’s wrong to force a sexuality onto someone.” Dohyun said, shaking his head.

The band was in your apartment, having a movie night. Well, as much as you guys could anyway. It seemed no one was paying enough attention to even pick out a movie on Netflix.

It had been over a week or so since you had sex with Ye-Jun and he hadn’t texted you. You thought maybe he had gotten some sense and left you alone.

Until Roha had texted you yesterday that Ye-Jun’s phone got destroyed—how? You don’t know—and that he’d be getting a new phone in a few days.

You were already dreading the day.

The band had gotten back to normal relatively quickly. Except Young-Jae seemed to think he was hot shit now. Though you knew why. Young-Jae had pined over Dohyun for over four years.

You’d allow him the month to be a dick and then knock some sense into him after.

Yuki walked over two pizza boxes, placing them on the coffee table in front of the couch. Junho was right behind him, holding some blankets.

“Junho Hyung, there’s some white stuff on your lips.” Young-Jae suddenly said.

Junho gasped, dropping the blankets as he quickly wiped at his mouth. Young-Jae and Won-Shik immediately bust out laughing while Dohyun sighed in disappointment at their childish behavior.

“Did you suck Yuki’s dick earlier?!” Won-Shik managed to say despite his laughing.

“I hate you guys.” Junho sighed, bending down to pick up the blankets. He walked over and dropped the blankets on Young-Jae’s head, earning a strangled grunt from the weight of them.

Yuki seemed unbothered by their teasing as he sat down beside you on the couch. He gave you a paper plate and took out two pizza slices for you. You thanked him and began eating, humming in delight.

“How are you and Kim Ye-Jun? Did you guys talk it out?” He asked, looking over at you.

“Mhm… he talked at me. I found out about how he thinks.” You muttered, rolling your eyes. “He called me pathetic but that’s why he wants me.”

“Ah, we have something in common.”

You froze mid bite, looking over at Yuki with a raised eyebrow. Yuki only gave you a wide grin.

“I find Junho pathetic. It’s why I like him.”

“Ah.” Your voice muffled by the pizza as you tried to ignore Yuki’s sudden confession. You knew Yuki could be a bit odd to anyone that wasn’t you. The thought that it would affect Junho made you feel a bit nervous. But you knew Junho would rather jump off a bridge than ever tell you about his relationship with Yuki.

He was the one that was trying to hide it anyway. Yuki was an open book. You could ask him if he masturbated today and he’d answer honestly.

Was his relationship with Yuki similar to yours with Ye-Jun?

Well, Yuki still had morals and didn’t seem to bad mouth Junho so maybe not totally similar.

You remembered the time your band was on a variety show during your debut. The host had called Junho an idiot with only his muscles being the good thing about him. It was a joke, the host was known for making off putting jokes.

Manager Nayoung had drilled that in you guys before the filming.

That didn’t matter to Yuki though. He had cussed out the host. Having to switch to Japanese when he felt that he couldn’t properly speak his feelings in Korean.

Anyway that episode was heavily edited and your band wasn’t invited to that show again. It was for the best. You were pretty sure Yuki’s rant in Japanese would make the Yakuza whimper.

“What do you like about Junho? Is it just that he makes you feel good?” You suddenly asked.

It had slipped out. You didn’t want to ask this with the other members right within ear shot as they began to fight over if they should watch a romcom or horror movie. But you couldn’t help it.

Ye-Jun’s words bothered you.

Yuki hummed. “No. I like his smile. I like how he puts everyone above himself. He’s very motherly. He has dumb jokes but is also shy about sharing his feelings. While he does take care of me, I like taking care of him even when he tries to fight it. He’s just pure. So pure that I want to ruin him. I love him.”

You frowned. What the hell? Why couldn’t Ye-Jun talk about you like this? To hear Yuki talk about Junho like this almost made you want to cry.

He felt so… loved? Does Ye-Jun even love you?

Has he ever told you that he loved you?

The revelation at the thought made you feel bitter so you quickly tried to push it away. You looked over at Yuki and smirked.

“So you top Junnie Hyung?”

“Mhm, yeah.” Yuki said, unabashedly.

“Is it easy? He’s larger than you even though you’re both the same height.”

“He can be pliant. Those muscles are just for show anyway. But I like that he’s bigger than me. Makes it more fun to have him beneath me.”

“Can you both not talk about my sex life like I’m not here?” Junho suddenly said, sitting down beside Yuki. You blushed, muttering an apology to Junho.

“Sorry, Junnie Hyung. I was just curious. I mean, when we had sex you topped me. I wanted to know if you act similar to when you bottom.”

Yuki hummed. “How did he act when he topped?”

“A gentle giant!” You gleamed. “Junnie Hyung didn’t even orgasm that night. He focus solely on me. I felt bad after but he wouldn’t let me take care of him after.”

“Seriously, guys.” Junho muttered, a slight blush on his face. “This is really embarrassing. Can we just watch the movie?”

“Course, my service top.” Yuki said, snickering as Junho looked away with a grimace.

“What’s a service top?” Won-Shik suddenly asked as he sat down on your left.

“Straight people don’t have service tops?” You pursed your lips in confusion.

“Don’t tell him, (Name)! Only tell him when he fucks his first man.” Young-Jae giggled, wincing when Dohyun pinched him on the neck.

Won-Shik glared at Young-Jae and simply grabbed two slices of pizza. The movie began to play after that. It looked like team horror movie won as I saw the Devil began to play.

You mindlessly ate your pizza before a suddenly thought pierced your brain. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

That night you had lied to Ye-Jun about who you slept with. While you were fuck buddies with Young-Jae during your first year as a trainee. You had fucked two other men after him.

Yang Junho. You didn’t want to tell Ye-Jun the truth that night because of how much he seemed to hate him. Deep down you knew Ye-Jun would never hurt you—physically—but that didn’t mean you weren’t scared of what he’d do to Junho.

You hoped to god that Ye-Jun never figured that out.

It was someone else that you worried about Ye-Jun finding out about.

Song Noeul.

At first when you thought about it, Ye-Jun probably wouldn’t have known who he was. Until when you were going on Ye-Jun’s Instagram—you were bored—that you saw Noeul in one of his pictures.

Noeul was first a trainee to be an idol before shifting to be an actor instead. And lucky for you, Noeul was in one of the dramas Black Rose made an OST for.

To make matters worse, Song Noeul looked like a friend to Kim Ye-Jun.

And you didn’t want to know what would happen if Ye-Jun learned that his “friend” fucked you a few years ago.

Yeah, you didn’t want anything bad to happen to Noeul. Or worse you, for lying about Junho.

Of course, luck was never known to be on your side, was it?

❝ 날 그대로 받아들여, 너의 두려운 ❞

It had been a month or so and you had luck on your side. Ye-Jun was too preoccupied with Black Rose’s promotion for their OST to bother you. You practically danced around when he had texted you that he wouldn’t be able to visit you for the next few weeks.

Of course that didn’t stop him from commenting on your posts. He had started to like the other guys posts but still only commented on yours.

Wasn’t too shocking. You and Yuki still were the only ones that posted religiously. Dohyun was a close second.

You were enjoying the two month break the company had given you guys. So of course Yuki took that time to go to back home to Japan, but his parents were nice enough to invite the band to stay two weeks at their home.

So here you were—enjoying Kyoto, Japan. Yuki’s parents were richer than you had imagined but you wouldn’t complain.

You were outside in the parents garden when you decided to take a selfie with the sunset in the background. You kept the caption short and sweet: 잘 자 💤!

@BRseo_minji commented : @BRkim_yejun, your Cho (Name) is saying good night to other men ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

A frown pulled on your lips. Right. The other Black Rose members also started to bother you. Just your luck.

@BRpark_shion responded : get off your phone and pay attention to the interview please

@BRim_roha commented : when do you come back, (Name)-Ah? I want to see you

@BRhwang_hanbin responded : you have a death wish, Roha Hyung??? Ye-Jun Hyung is gonna kill you ㅎㅎㅎ

@BRkim_yejun commented : your smile killed me ㅠㅠ the sunset doesn’t compare to your beauty

@BRpark_shion responded : can you have a little shame?

@BRhwang_hanbin responded : this isn’t you hyung…

@BRim_roha responded : if only you could put this poetic shit into our lyrics…

@BRseo_minji responded : fa—

“Fa—?” You muttered, wondering what Minji could’ve meant. It took a moment before a certain slur popped up in your mind. A smile threatened to leave your lips. That’s not right. You couldn’t laugh, you shouldn’t laugh.

You decided to read the other comments on your post. Mainly fans saying how cute you were. A few commenting on how cool it was that Black Rose was so close to Love Countdown. Some even saying they wanted a future collab. Like hell you’d want that.

Just as you were about to walk inside, your phone began to ring. You groaned at the caller ID.

Kim Ye-Jun.

You wanted to let it ring but another part of you missed his voice. So you reluctantly answered. The sound of bustling laughter and hushed voices escaped your phone as you could make out Roha saying something before it drowned out. A door slammed shut before it was quiet.

“Jagiya?”

Your stomach did an involuntary flip as you bit your lip. “Y..Yes, Kim Ye-Jun?”

“Kim Ye-Jun? It’s Junnie Hyung.” Ye-Jun answered. “What are you doing?”

“You lost the privilege for me to call you that.” You said bluntly, feeling a bit brave that he couldn’t see you. “I’m just checking out Yuki Hyung’s garden back in Kyoto.”

“Is it just you and him alone?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, everyone in the band came to visit. I don’t know why you’re so possessive, Kim Ye-Jun. I’m not yours.”

“Mhm. Anyway, I wanted to apologize about something.”

Your body froze as your breathing hitched. Apologize? Was he going to apologize for what he did? Was he—

“Sorry I haven’t been able to talk to you. I broke my phone when I threw it at Minji a few weeks ago but when I got a new phone I still couldn’t check on you because we had to promote our single for the drama. It’s a romcom I think.”

“Oh.” You tried to hide the disappointment. “Wait, you threw your phone at Seo Minji? What the hell?”

“Yeah. He was talking shit so I made him shut his mouth. But I missed anyway—he’s too fast.”

“But why your phone?”

“It was the only thing in my hand. I would’ve thrown the weights nearby but I wanted something easier to throw.”

“Uhm. You’re talking pretty lightly about attempted murder.”

“I didn’t want him to die. It didn’t even hit him. Anyway, have you been eating?”

You hummed. “Yeah. Uhm. Kim Ye-Jun, do you… like me or something? Why are you still after me when it’s been five years? It didn’t seem like you liked me all that much back then.”

“Like you? I guess I do. You’re my wallpaper on my phone. I look back at our photos back in university.”

“You didn’t delete them…?”

“Why would I? I look bad in them but you look pretty. You always look pretty. Did you delete yours?”

“Ah. Yeah… I did. I didn’t recover them.”

“Oh. Well I’ll just send what I have over to you. You should also put our picture as your wallpaper, shows your taken.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Taken? Yah, Kim Ye-Jun, you’re really funny. Do I not get a choice in being your fuck buddy again?”

“Fuck buddy? No, you’re mine. You don’t get a choice. You never did.”

A sense of dread creeped up your spine as you stood still, taking in his words. Was.. was he serious?

“(Name), Junho Hyung is calling for you.” A voice startled you as you looked back to see Young-Jae walking over to you.

Young-Jae frowned at the look on your face as he glanced at your phone. He mouthed: who’s that?

“Yang Junho? He’s there?”

You almost talked back to him. Of fucking course Junho was there. It was originally supposed to be a couple trip for Junho and Yuki anyway until his parents told him to invite the rest of you. That’s why Junho and Yuki was staying the month while you all were staying the two weeks.

“Kim Ye-Jun?” Young-Jae suddenly said out loud, causing your eyes to widen. He shook his hand and reached out to grab your phone despite your protests. “Yah, Kim Ye-Jun, bother him when he’s back in Seoul. Leave him alone when he’s on vacation.” He hung up right after that.

“Shit. Man, that Kim Ye-Jun is getting on my nerves. He’s so clingy. How do you put up with him?”

You shrugged. “I don’t think I have a choice.”

“I heard he hates Junho Hyung, why? Does he know that you guys fucked? Wait, does he know that we fucked?” Young-Jae asked, his eyes widening.

“I did tell him about us but he didn’t seem to view you as a threat… Maybe he noticed you like Dohyun Hyung. But I.. I lied about my relationship with Junho Hyung. I was just a bit scared.”

“You shouldn’t be afraid of someone. That’s not normal. Do you want to report him or something?”

You sighed. “I’m not sure. What can I realistically report for him? I don’t refuse him when he calls. Yeah I told him to go away but I always end up going back to him.”

“Hm.” Young-Jae sighed, shaking his head. “You need to grow a backbone, (Name)-Ah. Or at the very least, show him that you will have an equal standing in this relationship.”

“What do you mean?”

“He pulls all the punches. If you can’t find it yourself to leave this toxic swamp you’re swimming in, become as equally as toxic. Punch him back.”

“Toxic swamp? Wasn’t that a lyric in our song?”

“Shut up and take my advice.”

“Alright, Alright. I’ll punch him back.”

Young-Jae rolled his eyes before walking back into the house. You followed close behind. Yuki was on the couch with an irritated Junho. Junho looked to be trying to leave but Yuki had his arms wrapped around his waist.

“You called me, Junnie Hyung?” You asked, walking over to them.

“(Name)-Ah,” Junho smiled up at you as he continued trying to pull at Yuki’s tight grip. “Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You looked a bit scared on the phone.”

“You could see me?”

Yuki hummed. “Junho was watching you before I pulled him onto the couch.”

“Wow, you’re like my mom, Junnie Hyung.”

“A mom that fucked you.”

“Yuki Hyung!” Junho swore, glaring at Yuki who could only laugh. He tugged Junho closer and burrowed his face in his muscular back.

“Who were you talking to, (Name)-Ah? Kim Ye-Jun?” Yuki asked.

“Mhm. He was apologizing for not talking to me often.” You muttered.

“But not for allowing his friends to call you a slut?” Junho rolled his eyes, giving up on his attempt to break free from Yuki’s grip.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “He’d never apologize for that. Not unless I force him to. But then it wouldn’t be satisfying.”

“Who’s Kim Ye-Jun?” Won-Shik walked over to you guys, eating an onigiri. “Why do I never know what you guys are talking about?”

“Because you’re straight.” Young-Jae yelled from the kitchen.

“Shut the fuck up, Lee Young-Jae!”

“Kim Ye-Jun from Black Rose.” Dohyun said, walking over with a plate filled with onigiri that he placed on the coffee table in front of the couch. ��He’s been bothering (Name).”

“Our maknae?” Won-Shik’s expression stilled as he glanced over at you. “Should I kill him?”

“No—!”

“—yes!”

You stared over at Junho in shock. Junho gave you a sheepish smile. “I’ll make sure I’m Won-Shik’s alibi so we don’t have to continue on as five.”

“You can’t kill him yet.” Was all Dohyun said as the leader, sitting down on the couch. You expected him to oppose such a thing but it seemed he also hated Ye-Jun.

Shit. You couldn’t help but feel giddy at how much your band mates loved you.

You thought back to Young-Jae’s advice. Punch him back. The thought seemed silly because what could you do that would hurt Kim Ye-Jun?

Then you remembered Song Noeul.

You knew what would drive him insane.

You just had to have the guts to pull through with it.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

The two month break flew by fast and it was already May. For the groups comeback, your company decided on a happy and love filled single that felt like running through a field of flowers with your lover.

“Don’t you think these lyrics are a bit too sad, (Name)-Ah?” Dohyun looked over at you. You had given him your journal with lyrics you had written to share for the upcoming single.

“Is it? That’s what I was thinking when the company gave us the theme.” You scooted the rolling chair over to Dohyun. The both of you were in a composing room. Won-Shik and Yuki had already made the melody and recorded a small demo.

You and Dohyun were the ones that usually made the lyrics. Junho and Young-Jae occasionally wrote lyrics for your more angsty or depressing songs.

Your lyrics would always be sappy and happy—sometimes a bit cringy so Dohyun usually had to tweak them a bit.

“Yeah.” Dohyun muttered, looking back down at your journal. “These are a bit sad.”

How deep is your love?

묻고 싶어요

I want to ask

더 깊진 않더라도

Even if it can't be deeper

같을 순 없을까요?

Can't it be the same as mine?

“Oh.” You muttered, reading over the lyrics you wrote. Dohyun was right, this didn’t scream happy love. Your lips pursed into a frown as you flipped to the next page of lyrics you had written in accordance to the demo.

모르길 바라요

I hope you don't know

이런 내 마음을

These feelings

사랑하고 있어도

Even when I'm in love

혼자인 것만 같아

I feel alone.

“Uhm. Why don’t we just use your lyrics. I don’t think we can use these.” You slammed your journal shut and pulled it away from Dohyun, shoving it back into your backpack.

“Are you okay, (Name)-Ah?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

The rest of the session was awkward to say the least. Dohyun seemed fidgety as if he wanted to talk to you but also didn’t want to scare you away.

You appreciated your hyung but you also didn’t want to admit that Kim Ye-Jun had such an effect on you after all these years.

What did you even like about him?

What was he to you?

“Y’know,” Dohyun suddenly whispered. “For the Love’s Fool album, the lyrics I put in there were about Jae.”

You froze, looking over at Dohyun in shock. “Huh? Really?”

“Mhm. The third song in the album is basically about Jae. Purely about the guilt I felt for falling in love with him. Seeing him as something more than my dongsaeng.”

“The third song.. But that’s the only upbeat song on the album.”

“I know. We can still use your lyrics even if they’re sad. But I mainly wanted to tell you that you don’t have to feel embarrassed about writing lyrics on Kim Ye-Jun. Junho’s songs are mostly about past relationships anyway.”

“Junho Hyung had past relationships?”

Dohyun grinned. “Your Junho hyung was a little too outgoing back during our trainee days. Though he’d never tell you.”

It was silent for a moment as you watched Dohyun begin to add a few of your lyrics into his own, mixing them around to have a perfect flow and rhythm that matched the composition.

After a moment or so, you decided to try and forget all about your problems by being a menace.

“Hyungie, remember when I caught you and Jae Hyung fucking? Why did you look so out of it? If I didn’t know Jae Hyung, I would’ve been worried that he was taking advantage of you.”

Dohyun blushed, his pen dragging against the paper as he began to stutter. It took a moment before he could even say anything.

“Sub.. Sub space. I was in sub space. That’s all.”

“Sub space? What’s that?”

“It’s just a mental feeling a submissive can get into during sex. I was a bit scared being in it, I’ve never experienced it before. But it’s not dangerous. Jae knew how to take care of me.”

“Not fair… I’ve never experienced that!” You whined, pouting your lips. “Does it feel good?”

“I guess. It makes me feel safe now.”

You thought back to the sex you’ve had these past few years. The feeling that Dohyun had described and the one you had seen with your own eyes seemed foreign. There were a few times you felt tired after sex… but that’s normal.

Dohyun had looked completely out of it—like he was on another planet. You’ve never had that feeling.

Was it because Dohyun trusted Young-Jae?

A few hours later you and Dohyun left the company building. Dohyun went his separate way—having a dinner with his parents for his dad’s birthday.

You absentmindedly hummed to yourself as you pulled out your phone. Who could you bother for the night? Your finger swiped across the screen as you scrolled through your contacts.

The scroll stopped right on Roha’s number. He did say to contact him whenever you were back.

Despite being Ye-Jun’s friend, you liked Roha separately from him. You could be Roha’s friend without Ye-Jun’s permission! You were a grown adult. So, you called Roha and hoped he was free for some tteokbokki.

“Why did you want me to lie to Ye-Jun?”

Roha asked, a smug expression on his face as he took a sip of his beer. You grinned sheepishly as you poked at your salad. The two of you were at a small tteokbokki restaurant that you used to visit here often back in your uni days.

“You don’t have to tell Ye-Jun everything. Are you his child?” You set on asking, eyeing Roha nervously.

“No,” Roha shrugged. “Your relationship to me is separate from Ye-Jun. I never told him the things you told me.”

You perked up at that. “Really..? That means…?”

“No, he doesn’t know that you’ve played the violin since you were in diapers. He never asked so I never told him. If he likes you, he’d want to learn things about you.”

“Wow. How are you and Ye-Jun even friends? You seem so different?”

“If I haven’t met Ye-Jun back in elementary school I wouldn’t be friends with him.” Roha answered, shoving a tteokbokki in his mouth. “Not everyone can handle him… But you seem to be able to.”

“I don’t know about that.” You muttered.

“You haven’t reported him or anything. Or filed a complaint. Or done anything to get him to truly back off.”

“Yeah… But…”

“It’s okay, (Name). The heart is confusing.” Roha looked up at you. “Are you going to let him continue to have total control over the relationship? Back in university you used to dog walk him with ease.”

“I did?” You questioned, tilting your head in confusion. “How…?”

“You technically didn’t do much. You acted like yourself. Because in the end—Kim Ye-Jun can’t handle you being angry at him.”

“Hm. Well it doesn’t even feel like he likes me. Just that he feels like he owns me.”

“That’s probably how he thinks. Ye-Jun isn’t good with expressing himself. He doesn’t write lyrics for our romantic songs. He’s always had this tendency to think he owns people that he loves.”

“Does he think he owns you?”

“He used to. Until I socked him in the face when he tried to forbid me from doing something.” Roha smirked. “Then he learned he had a limit on how much he could “try” to control me.”

“Does he think he owns the other band members?”

“Course. His family is odd, I think that’s where he got that idea. His older brother acts the same way. Even their mother.”

You froze at the mention of Ye-Jun’s family. He never spoke to you about them. Though you couldn’t get too mad about that. It was the same for you never mentioning your parents.

“Does his…—?”

“—family know you? Yeah. He always sent pictures of you to them. You just never met them because they live in Jeju. If they didn’t, you would’ve been met them.”

“Oh. Wait you’re from Jeju Island?”

“Yeah. Did I never tell you? Ah, anyway. Was there something you wanted to ask about Ye-Jun? Or did you really want to hang out with me?”

You pouted. “I did want to hang out with you…”

Roha raised an eyebrow.

“…Both. I did have a question about Ye-Jun. Is he close to Song Noeul?”

“Song Noeul? The actor? Yeah they got close when we made the OST for the drama he was in. Now I get to ask a question in return.”

You watched as Roha pulled out his phone and began scrolling to find a picture. Your breathing hitched at the picture he showed you.

It was a picture of you and Noeul. When you were younger, maybe two years ago? Noeul had his arms around your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Your noses were touching and it looked like you were mid laugh.

No one could try to spin that picture as anything but couple like.

“How’d you…?”

Roha frowned, turning his phone off. “I got it from someone anonymous. I thought it was photoshopped but it’s real. I haven’t shown anyone.”

“Did you ask for it?”

“No way. I wouldn’t try to sabotage you or Song Noeul’s career. I’m just telling you because I think someone is trying to dim Song Noeul’s career and you’re unfortunately about to be hit in the cross fire.”

You frowned, trying to take in the information.

“They also sent stuff about me. Just pictures of me smoking. That’s about it. I’m not sure who it could be. Maybe an ex lover of Song Noeul.”

“Ex lover?”

“He could’ve left his old lover when he started to get famous. The lover got jealous and wants to bring him down. Seems the only dirt they can get on him is that he dated a man.”

“Why don’t they use pictures of him with them if they dated?”

“They don’t want to get found out. Especially if they could be a man themselves. Anyway, I’m just telling you to be careful. They could be following you to see if you interact with Song Noeul again.”

The rest of the dinner felt heavy as you thought about Roha’s warning. Fuck, forget all about the plan with making Ye-Jun angry. You could be outed by some jealous ex lover!

You got home feeling heavy and scared. Sure, Korea was getting progressive these days. But all you could think about was the korean host who came out as gay and got black listed for years!

Straight kpop idols get taken from groups or slammed to death for dating each other.

Sure your group wasn’t too big but you were gaining a sizable fan base. Fuck.

You laid down on your bed and stared up at the ceiling. Should you tell someone? You knew your company wouldn’t be angry—Manager Nayoung was openly a lesbian and even a few other staff members were gay. There was a gay flag in one of the recording rooms!

Dohyun wouldn’t be angry. Won-Shik would find a way to get a murder charge. Yuki would probably also get arrested for murder. Junho would comfort you. Young-Jae would laugh at you before comforting you in his own way.

The soft sputtering of the fan almost lulled into a sleepless slumber when your phone lit up. You reached over and grabbed your phone off the countertop.

It was Ye-Jun.

He just a sent a picture.

An old one.

His hair was a buzz cut. He had no smile on his lips as he stared straight at the camera. You wondered what could be worth sending this when you noticed yourself in the picture.

In the back, you were standing by the door of what you could only assume was a classroom. A wide smile on your face as you looked to be talking to someone that was off frame.

Was this him trying to take a picture of you in secret?

Kim Ye-Jun

↳ The first ever picture I took of you.

↳ freshman orientation

↳ your smile is your best feature

↳ 너무 예뻐서, 자기.

Cheesy.

You laughed, closing your eyes as you placed your phone back on the nightstand. Your throat felt tight as you placed your hands over your eyes. A heavy feeling began to swell in your chest as your lips began to twitch.

Fuck.

You were so emotional.

He was messing with you at this point.

With Young-Jae and Roha’s talk about taking control, you knew you had to if you didn’t have the strength to release Kim Ye-Jun from your heart.

You needed to punch Kim Ye-Jun in the face.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

↳ you thiink jostt becaze everyone knows your nume that you can just forgot me like that

↳ you werant anyone spezial before I met you song noeul answwwer me you son of a bitch

↳ couldnt get in tuchh with that kim yejun bastaardrd had to go though his frend since when did you hing out with puple like them do they have accentts when they talk they’re from jeju yea

↳ youre facking kim yejun huh or maybe youre stiiill with that shortiiie from that shitty bannds cho (name) I knew you left me for him

↳ whats gaing to hupoen is your fault song noeul you culdve just taken me back instud of dumping me like

↳ those fens of yours are guna be pessed when they releize thiy fell in love wiz a faggot

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Guys, guess who just started following us on Instagram!” Won-Shik bursted into the recording room, ignoring Dohyun’s call for him to calm down. He pulled out his phone and showed you and Young-Jae the Instagram account.

“Huh? Who’s that? I don’t pay attention to actors.” Young-Jae asked.

Your eyes narrowed as you looked at the username.

@Yoursunset

(송노을) 7.9m followers 289 Following

“Your sunset?” Junho muttered, leaning over to try and get a better look as well.

Won-Shik hummed. “Well yeah, it makes sense. His name means glow of sunset.”

“His name is Noeul?” Dohyun asked.

Your eyes widened as you took Won-Shik’s phone away from him, ignoring his yell. You swiped at the account and took a look at the pictures. It was him. It really was Song Noeul. He was following the band’s account!

It shocked you that he was so popular. A year ago he only had a mere 98k followers. His dramas must’ve been getting mainstream attention for him to blow up like that.

His pictures looked to be promoting a new kdrama he was a side character as. A light hearted romcom. After that it was just pictures of him on his day to day life. Until you reached two years ago, he earned a lead role in a crime kdrama.

One of the pictures had him with Black Rose. This must’ve been the OST they made back then.

He even had a few pictures alone with Ye-Jun. of course Ye-Jun’s smile looked forced and strained but he did look semi happy near Noeul.

You clicked on Noeul’s recent story to see he was answering questions from fans. And one question asked whats his new favorite album.

Lo and behold he answered with “Love’s Fool” plus a link to your band’s account. The next question was a fan jokingly asking if he’s cheating on Black Rose which he answered with a picture of him and Ye-Jun with an X emoji on Ye-Jin’s face.

The caption said: “Ending relationship with Black Rose, Love Countdown is now my husband”

“Uh,” Won-Shik coughed, raising an eyebrow at your behavior. “Anyway the reason why I was telling you guys this is because this guy is popular! Look at how much followers he has. He just promoted us on his page. We’ll get so many new fans from him!”

Young-Jae looked over at you. “(Name) knows him.”

The rest of the group looked at you in shock. “Huh?!” They yelled in unison.

Right. Your relationship with Noeul was discrete. Especially when he left for another agency to debut as an actor instead. Only Young-Jae had known and it wasn’t because you had told him.

Young-Jae had unfortunately walked in on you having phone sex with Noeul. It was something you tried forgetting.

“(Name)-Ah, you know him?! Are you guys still friends?!” Won-Shik grabbed your face as he squished your cheeks together, making you look up at him. “Are you close? Do you know his MBTI??”

“MBTI…?” Yuki asked, tilting his head.

“Calm down, Won-Shik! (Name)-Ah can’t speak with you squishing his face like that.” Dohyun pulled Won-Shik away as you rubbed your cheeks now that they were free.

“Uh,” you muttered. “Yeah, we’re friends. Well, we were closer back then but I lost contact with him. I think he changed his number and unfortunately I never got it.”

Junho patted you on the back. “Maybe you can try to reconnect? It’s good to have friends that are outside of us.”

“Yeah, use him to get more fans!” Young-Jae grinned.

“Don’t listen to Jae.” Dohyun cut in, glaring at Young-Jae. “Junho is right. You need more friends.”

“I have Roha Hyung.” You pouted.

Junho shook his head. “Yeah, that’s a problem. You need friends outside of your band mates and outside of Kim Ye-Jun’s best friend.”

“Kim Ye-Jun is friends with Noeul…”

“But you knew Song Noeul first! So technically you have a right to be close to him.” Yuki chimed in.

Won-Shik grinned. “Think of it this way. You get a new friend and some extra connections for our band!”

“Stop thinking about money, Won-Shik!”

“Hey, money makes the world go round! We gotta get a deal for an OST before our second year anniversary!!!”

You began to tune out Won-Shik’s and Dohyun’s bickering as you glanced down at Noeul’s account.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt. Though the whole thing with someone threatening to out Noeul bothered you. Despite worrying about yourself—you worried about Noeul even more.

Now that you knew he was gaining popularity, he had more to lose at being outed.

At the very least… You thought it was in your best interest to warn Noeul that someone was threatening to ruin his career.

Now you just had to find a way to get close to him again. Would he even want to speak to you?

The rest of the day was spent in the recording booth. Won-Shik and Dohyun bickering. Young-Jae not so subtly fondling Dohyun’s ass whenever he thought no one was looking. Yuki and Junho snuggled together on the couch as Yuki occasionally bit Junho’s cheek.

You stayed on the far right of the couch—pondering on ways to creep back into Noeul’s life.

Message him on Instagram? No, his company probably checks his DMs.

Do a post and tag him? Would that be weird?

Go to his agency and ask to meet him? No way.

Ask Ye-Jun for his number? You’d rather jump off a bridge.

Maybe you’d have to just post and tag him.

Your phone suddenly lights up with a text from Ye-Jun. Speak of the devil.

It was another picture. One of him again. It looked to be taken not even a few days ago. He was dressed in a black harness that was over a skin tight white t-shirt. A black choker. You couldn’t see his lower half. But you could see his eye makeup.

Intense was putting it lightly. The eyeshadow was a dark black. His face was lightened up with a bit of white blush. A bit gothic? He still wasn’t smiling, of course. Another picture was sent, this time with a message.

↳ Our first OST filming

↳ Just remembered it

↳ It’s been two years, I think my hair cut looks similar to how it is now

↳ should I dye my hair? What’s your favorite color?

The picture made you do a double take. It was of him and Noeul. Noeul was dressed in a regular outfit. A black sweater with a hat on. He must’ve been visiting to see the music video happen.

It was a stark contrast. Noeul had a wide smile. His eyes forming into crescent moons as he put up a peace sign. Ye-Jun still looked dead at the camera with not even a hint of a smile.

Seeing Noeul felt different. He matured since you last saw him. He still had those sharp monolid eyes. Shaggy black hair. Soft plump lips.

Ye-Jun and Noeul didn’t look too far off from each other now that they were close.

Huh, you really did have a type.

You almost began to text Ye-Jun, asking him about Noeul but decided against it.

You knew a good way to get his attention.

Your eyes flickered back onto the picture. It almost felt like Ye-Jun staring right at you. His eyes were intense. Almost cold.

Were his eyes always this cold?

❝ 차가운 네 눈이 나를 삼켜 ❞

The first time you ever met Song Noeul, he was quiet. Unnaturally quiet. So you stuck to him like glue.

Opposites attract. That’s what they say.

Even when he decided to become an actor instead—you still walked thirty minutes to meet him. It was pure friendship at first.

He was different personality wise from Ye-Jun but somehow had a familiar aura to him. Maybe a version of Ye-Jun you thought you had known.

Noeul was dating someone. Someone that you knew was treating him badly. You had once tried to relate it to your relationship with Ye-Jun until you saw the bruises on Noeul’s face one day.

That person was dangerous. Noeul never told you who it was—never even told your their gender.

It wasn’t until a year later, the day that you had finally been chosen in the final lineup for your company’s upcoming band that your relationship with Noeul was no longer platonic.

You had ran to him and tackled him into a hug outside of his agency. Your noses touched together as you excitedly told him the good news. It wasn’t even a moment later before he kissed you.

Then it just continued from there.

But all good things seem to always end for you. Noeul had gotten his first role as a side character in a kdrama and you got busy with your debut. You both just…drifted apart by pure accident.

A sigh left your lips as the memories began to flood your brain. Song Noeul was just too good to be true. You almost didn’t want to bother him. But you tried to tell yourself that he deserved to know about someone attempting to ruin his career.

You looked back, making sure the sunset was in view. You were out at the park—Junho and Young-Jae wanted to go for a walk so you tagged along. They were both doing some type of weird work out on the public bench as you tried to get a good angle for your picture.

Your lips pulled into a grin as you took multiple pictures. After going through them—you picked the three that you looked the best in and began to draft a post for Instagram.

The caption read: 안녕, 여러분!! 노을이 예쁘죠?

It was a bit one the nose but you were desperate. If you wanted to talk about the sunset, you would’ve used “일몰” instead of Noeul. Only a dumbass wouldn’t get your message.

@BRim_roha commented : ah, cute—I should steal you for myself

@BRhwang_hanbin responded : HYUNG STOP!!! Ye-Jun Hyung will kill you for real!

@BRseo_minji responded : didn’t you tell us earlier to stop spamming his comment section?

@BRpark_shion responded : you idiots make it seem like we have nothing better to do. WE ARE STILL DOING PROMOTIONS DUMBASS!!!!

@BRkim_yejun commented : why are you all here before me….? Anyway, so pretty, Jagi. Why did you use 노을?

You sighed. Of course those stupid fucks were already spamming your comment section. You scrolled past their conversation as Minji and Hanbin got into an argument.

Your heart felt like it was being clenched by a hand. Squeezed tightly as if you couldn’t breathe anymore. Maybe he wouldn’t get it. Maybe he didn’t even care about you like that and just liked your music?

Maybe he didn’t even want to talk to you ever again because he’s living a better life now and how could he possibly want a reminder about his before and and—

@Yoursunset commented : Yeah, I think I’m very pretty ㅋㅋㅋ

You definitely didn’t squeal, most definitely not. Young-Jae glanced over at you with an unimpressed look. Junho gave you smile before turning his attention back to his workout.

Perfect. Everything would be set in motion, one step at a time.

The next few weeks you would post something that Noeul would comment on. He made no attempt to try and go any further with that and you were set on keeping it there as well.

This would be enough. It could be enough for you.

It didn’t make much sense in your mind.

Ye-Jun was crazy but you liked him. Noeul was seemingly normal and you liked him.

Was it normal to like two men at the same time?

Did you even feel love for Noeul or was it just nostalgia?

You were just confused these days.

And you began to notice an odd uptick in Ye-Jun’s behavior. More so the fact he hasn’t been talking or texting you.

But everything is going to be fine.

Right?

Yeah… You knew deep down it wasn’t.

❝ 불안하게 만드는 거야 왜? ❞

It was a fine and calming day. Love Countdown was doing the photoshoot for their upcoming single: Spring Day. The theme was fun and more upbeat than the previous comeback.

The photo shoots were always fun for you. Dressing in cool outfits. The funky sets. And even just taking pictures with your hyungs was a blast.

You had just finished up your solo photoshoot when your phone began to rang. It was Ye-Jun. Your body froze as you stared at your phone, slipping on your jacket. It had been a few weeks since he’d call.

It felt like your heart was hammering in your chest as you let it ring. You couldn’t answer it. You knew it wouldn’t be smart to answer it with staff around you. The call ended and a message was swiftly sent to you.

↳ meet me at the hotel. You know which one

He didn’t send anything else after that. You didn’t respond. You’d go either way. Fuck, why were you going? But before you knew it—you were standing at the hotel he took you that day after Manager Nayoung’s birthday party.

There was another text sent to you with the room number once you reached it. How’d he..?

You didn’t question it, going straight to the room. Maybe you can finally do what Young-Jae and Roha told you to do. Punch Kim Ye-Jun.

Your knuckles rasped against the door for only a second when it pulled open. A shocked grunt left your lips as Ye-Jun pulled you inside the room. He slammed the door shut behind himself as you stared at him shock.

Gosh, seeing him after almost five months was a bit surreal. He was clean faced and a bit sweaty, maybe he had ran over here? His hair was messy as he stood up straight. You stopped giving him a glance over and looked him in the eye.

Oh.

He was angry.

“Cho (Name)…”

Fuck. Fuck, he was probably going to talk about Junho.

“What’s your relationship to Song Noeul? You’ve practically been flirting with him for the last few weeks. What the fuck is that? He’s my friend, y’know?”

You couldn’t help the slight smirk on your lips. At least Junho was safe. “Your friend…? Ah, right. You think you know me, hm? Well, I know Song Noeul. Longer than you have.”

“Longer than me? How? I’ve known him for over three years now.”

“Mhm. Why should I tell you? Can I not have a relationship with Song Noeul? Is he yours? Roha Hyung said that you have an odd tendency to take ownership over people.”

“Ownership?” Ye-Jun laughed. “What else did Roha Hyung tell you? Tell you about our kindergarten days? High school days before I went off to the military?”

“No. Because if I want to learn someone about you—I’ll ask you. Because if you like someone—you’d want to learn everything about them.”

Ye-Jun’s eyes widen and he almost looked shocked before he shook his head. “You didn’t answer my question. What’s your relationship to Song Noeul?”

“Remember when you asked me about who I slept with? I told you about a trainee that you wouldn’t have known about… I was wrong—you clearly know Noeul-Ah.”

“He’s not a hyung to you?”

“He was born the year after mines.” You grinned, enjoying the look of shock on his face. “You’d know that… if you remembered my birthday.”

“You’re really cocky these days, (Name)-Ah. It’s cute. Real cute. It’s almost making me wonder why I’m still wanting you.”

You glared at him. “That’s all you can think about. You only want me. Do you… Do you even like me? What do you even like about me? How pathetic I am to you?”

Yuki’s words about Junho were flooding back to you. Why were you so after Ye-Jun? Why did you let him crawl into your heart? Why did you even let him come back?

“What do you want me to say, (Name)?”

“I…That you love me. That you don’t just find me pathetic.. That… That there’s other things you like about me.. y’know? My personality… things I do.”

“Love you?” Ye-Jun’s eyebrows farrowed as he stared at you in shock. He sighed, rubbing at his forehead. “What’s with this all of sudden? You didn’t care that I didn’t say it much back then. Why now?”

Your lips pressed into a straight line as you glared at him. “You don’t even say it all. Just.. why do you want me?”

Ye-Jun glanced over at you. “I don’t know. I don’t know, (Name). When you left me, I felt empty. I don’t know what these feelings are but I know that I can’t be without you.”

“Yeah? Well, I know how to speak about my feelings. And I know when to admit my mistakes.”

“Mistakes?”

“Mhm. You won’t ever apologize for what you did to me but I’ll apologize to you right now. I lied. I did fuck Yang Junho. No, he fucked me. He fucked me good and I liked every—”

A strangled gasp left your throat as Ye-Jun grabbed your arm and slammed you against the wall. His lips smashed against yours as you tried pushing him away. But he was stronger, tightening his hold on your arms as he moved to cage you against the wall.

Your hands gripped at his shirt when you realized you had no strength to push him off. His teeth bit at your lip as he pressed his body against yours.

He finally pulled away from the kiss, glaring down at you. “Yang Junho, huh?”

A smirk pulled on your lips as you stared up at him. Your lip burned. Fuck, did he cut it open?

“Yeah. Yang Junho. Does that piss you off? Make you angry?”

“Keep talking, Cho (Name). It pisses me off even more. But that’s what you want. To piss me off.”

“Maybe. Does the thought of Yang Junho fucking me into the bed make you angry? Does it make you hate me for abandoning you for someone better?”

Ye-Jun blinked as he took in your words. A slow smirk pulled on his lips as he let out a laugh.

“Yeah, it makes me hate you.”

His hands trailed down to your legs and gripped your thighs. He hoisted you up with ease as he carried you over to the bed. You grunted when you were unceremoniously dropped without a warning. Hands gripped your jeans as Ye-Jun pulled off it off.

You reached up and slipped off your shirt, readying to take off your boxers when you heard the sound of fabric tearing.

“Kim Ye-Jun! That’s the second pair of boxers you’ve tore!”

Ye-Jun didn’t answer you, his gaze hard as he slipped off his own shirt. You gulped. Maybe you really did make him angry this time. Your gaze followed Ye-Jun as he gripped your waist. He easily turned you over into your stomach, ignoring your yelps.

The sound of skin slapping caused you to shriek, back arching. He really just spanked you. His hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, slowly spreading you open. Your hands gripped into the bedsheets as you waited in anticipation of what he was going to do.

Teeth sunk into your ass, earning a shuddered gasp from you. Ye-Jun bit and marked at your ass. He left no space of your ass unmarked. Your cock twitched as you slowly grind against the bed, giving yourself some form of relief.

You gasped, hips jittering as you felt a tongue lick around your hole. Ye-Jun’s nails dug into your skin as he began to mouth at your hole. The feeling of his tongue threatening to slip inside sent you into a frenzy.

It had to have been because you hadn’t had sex in over five months. Didn’t help you would sometimes over hear Young-Jae and Dohyun having the time of their lives late at night.

“K..Kim Ye-Jun…” You whimpered, gasping as you felt spit coat your rim. “No lube..?!”

“You don’t deserve lube.” Was all Ye-Jun said before his middle and ring finger teased your outer rim. Your body shivered. Fuck, fuck.

The fingers pressed against your hole before he slammed it inside, earning a cry from you. You subconsciously rose your ass up as Ye-Jun began to finger fuck you. Without lube there was a slight burn. But it only made you more horny.

Ye-Jin’s fingers curled, teasing your wet inner wall as you gasped. A graze against your prostate earned a strangled whimper from you as you bit your tongue. This wasn’t a love hotel—you didn’t want to be screaming when it was only 7 pm in the evening.

His fingers repeatedly pressed against your prostate. Rubbing smooth circles around it as you cried and whimpered. Your cock felt heavy. You felt as if you could orgasm now. But then he suddenly stopped.

“Ngh…?” You whimpered, eyes opening as you tried to look back at Ye-Jun.

“What? Don’t think you can bat your eyelashes and I’ll do what you say.” Ye-Jun laughed, rudely pushing your head back onto the bed. “Don’t look back at me again unless you don’t want to cum at all tonight.”

It was silent for a second. Your body began to twitch with anxiety as you could feel your cock losing its erection. What was he trying to do?

A complaint was on the tip of your tongue when a brutal four minutes had passed but you didn’t get to say anything. His two fingers thrusted back inside of your puckered hole as you gasped in shock. They immediately zeroed in on your prostate—not holding back a continuous attack.

He rubbed the edge of your prostate before pressing down fully on it. You whined, your hips jerking upwards as he didn’t make any movement. Your cock was alive once again, the tip sticky and wet with pre-cum.

You were so close. Almost there.

But he didn’t move again. He kept his middle and ring finger resting right on your prostate. Your toes curled as you bucked your hips backwards to try and get him to move. That earned a harsh smack right on your ass.

“I didn’t say you could move.”

You whimpered, trying to will your body to stay still. It felt like hours when it was only two minutes before he began to tease your prostate. A thankful groan left your throat as you tried to savor the feeling.

Your cock rubbed against the bedsheets as it coated them with your pre-cum. A babble of nonsense left your lips as you gripped at the sheets—reaching your orgasm.

Then it stopped just as you reached your peak.

A whiny almost pathetic whimper left your throat as you felt tears water in your eyes. You couldn’t take this anymore. Your body began to shake slightly as you tried to calm down even as the tears began to fall.

“Hurts?” Ye-Jun suddenly whispered against your ear. You flinched, feeling his body heat against you. Only a whimper left you.

“Good.” He simply said, pulling away.

Your eyes widen as you felt his hand reach underneath your stomach, grasping your aching cock. You almost cried tears of joy as he began to jerk you off, his fingers occasionally rubbing your prostate in tandem. Your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head as you couldn’t help back your high pitched moans.

“Almost there, Jagiya. I’m sure Yang Junho never made you feel like this…” he suddenly tightened his grip on the tip of your cock, stopping your orgasm. “Just like I’m sure he isn’t as cruel as me.”

“Noooo…” You cried out, reaching up to crawl away from Ye-Jun. He only laughed and pulled his hand away, grabbing your hips and pulling you back down to the edge of the bed.

“Where are you going? I thought you wanted to cum.”

“I…ngh…..! ‘Ate ‘u…!” You managed to mutter, your eyes feeling heavy.

“Mhm. I hate you too, Jagiya.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss on your shoulder. “If only you weren’t promoting soon. You deserve my mark all over your body. Maybe then you’ll realize you’re mine.”

He pulled away from your body, leaving you to cry at the loss. Ye-Jun hummed as he grabbed your waist and flipped you into your back, forcing your head to lay off the edge of the bed. You were face to face with growing bulge. His hand pulled down his zipper, tugging down his boxers, as his cock slipped free.

It was inches from your face, the tip touching your nose. Ye-Jun reached over and wiped at your face. Your face was stained with tears. A smile pulled on his lips as he uncharacteristically gently stroked your cheek before grabbing his cock and pressing it against your lips.

You obeyed with ease, your lips parting as he slowly thrusted his cock into your mouth. He was slow—seemingly nice enough to not just trigger your gag reflex immediately. His hand traced your cheek before trailing down to your throat, rubbing the slight bulge there.

Your cock twitched as your legs clamped together. You wanted to cum so bad but didn’t make any attempt to grab your own cock despite it leaking dejectedly on your stomach.

“You’re pretty with your mouth shut, Jagiya. If you didn’t have a pretty voice when singing, I would make sure you could never talk again.”

A pathetic whimper left your throat as you tried to ignore the thought.

His hand gently massaged your throat before he pulled his hips back. You braced yourself, closing your eyes at the feeling of him against your tongue. His tip teased the tip of your tongue before he slammed his hips forward.

The sound of his grunts and your choked gasps filled the room as he fucked your mouth. He wasn’t gentle or slow in the slightest, making sure he could go as deep as possibly without triggering your gag reflex. Your toes curled as your body moved from his heavy thrusts.

Your cock was leaking pre-cum all over your tummy as you itched over to quickly jerk yourself off. You needed an orgasm like twenty minutes ago.

“That’s it. Jerk yourself off.” He said, tightening his grip on your throat. You didn’t need to be told twice as you quickly grabbed your cock and began jerking off to the rhythm of his thrusts. Your hips jerked up as your body was taking over by the pleasure.

Ye-Jun smirked as he quickened his pace, widening his stance as he slammed his cock deep inside your throat. You could feel yourself choking just a bit—almost forgetting to breathe.

“Nose. Use your nose.” Ye-Jun suddenly grunted out, noticing your hands frantically gripping at the bed. You felt like an idiot for forgetting to do that but you tried to give yourself a pass at being too taken with the pleasure.

You moved your hand back to your cock and quickly jerked yourself off, ready to finally meet your first orgasm. Ye-Jun seemed close as well judging by his moans. It felt like your body was spasming as your cock finally squirted cum onto your stomach, shooting up to your chest.

Ye-Jun pulled his cock out as you let out a strangled and hoarse scream. Your hips jerked upwards as you continued jerking yourself off during your orgasm. Wet tears streamed down your face as you took a deep breath, trying to calm down as your body shook from the intense sensation.

Your neck hurt so you tried to move to rest properly on the bed but didn’t get to move far when Ye-Jun gripped your throat. A shocked gasp left your throat as you looked up at him to see him smirking at you.

“Hey, don’t be so selfish.” He used his free hand to jerk himself as he pointed his cock right at your face. You could only squirm in his grip, hands reaching up to try and pull his hand off your throat. But it was useless, he was larger than you.

White cum squirted from Ye-Jun’s cock, landing right on your face. You quickly shut your eyes as it landed on your lips, cheeks, and nose. Luckily nowhere near your eyes. Ye-Jun rubbed at your throat before pulling away.

His touch was soft. You almost called back for him. But you couldn’t speak. This feeling felt different. Like you could just sleep peacefully and wake up refreshed the next day.

Was this… the sub space Dohyun mentioned? Did Ye-Jun really make you feel this safe despite everything?

The sound of a zipper pulling up caught your hears as you finally opened your eyes. He was far away. Too far. You had to hold back the childish whimper that threatened to leave you.

“…’her you ‘ing..?” You managed to hoarsely mutter.

Ye-Jun tilted his hand at you as he grinned. “You look good with cum on your face, (Name). It’s my favorite sight.” He pulled out his phone and took a picture. You didn’t even have the mental strength to yell at him for that.

He walked away and you strained to watch him as he slipped on his sneakers. He was leaving? Leaving you like this? You grunted, using your strength to sit up properly on the bed as you stared at him in shock.

“You’re not..”

“Leaving? Yeah, I’m leaving.” Ye-Jun said, grabbing his jacket and baseball cap off the hook.

He looked back over at you, his face unreadable.“I hate you, remember? Just like you hate me. Isn’t that our relationship? We’re fuck buddies now.”

With that, he left. You stared at the door in shock as you tried to calm down. What the fuck? Fuck buddies? Your heart felt odd. You felt as if you were having trouble breathing.

What was wrong with you?

You pushed yourself off the bed, kneeling down to grab your jeans as you pulled out your phone. Tears began to fall onto the screen as you shakily pressed the first contact you came across in your messages.

“Wonnie Hyung…?” You hiccuped. “I need you.”

❝ 반대로 가고 있는 것 같아요 ❞

“I’m going to murder him.”

You looked over at Junho as he paced around Won-Shik’s bedroom. Won-Shik was beside you on the bed with an uncharacteristically blank stare. When you had called him he had practically ran to where you were.

The look on his face when you opened the door was something you didn’t want to see again.

“So he was angry at you and then did all that?” Won-Shik suddenly spoke, the first time in the hour he brought you home. You mutely nodded, burrowing yourself into the bedsheets. It was embarrassing to tell your band mate this but you didn’t exactly have anyone else.

No way in hell were you going to Roha. Or worse, your parents. You haven’t exactly spoken to them in five years.

Junho groaned, rubbing at his head. “Why is he like this? Does he even like you? He says he was lonely when you left but now that he has you again he’s acting like a fucking fool?”

“I’m a fool for going back to him.” You whispered, sighing to yourself. Junho frowned as he finally sat down on the bed, rubbing your head.

“Don’t beat yourself, (Name)-Ah. You just.. You must really like him. I’m not sure why, but he must’ve been a good person before this all happened.”

“He was. But I’m starting to think I love him because he’s the first boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

“Could be that. But even when you were away from him—did you still think about him?”

“Of course. I always thought about him. I’m so confused with myself.”

Junho gave you a comforting smile as he moved to lay down with you on the bed. You couldn’t help but laugh as he wrapped the blanket around you like a cocoon and hug you to his chest.

Won-Shik hummed, catching your attention. He looked over at you and gave you a tight smile. “I’ve thought about what to do and unfortunately they all come up with me getting a murder charge.”

“I can still be your alibi.” Junho said seriously.

“Tempting.”

“Please don’t.” You whined, pouting. “I think I’ll get more depressed if he’s gone for good and you’ll be locked up in jail.”

“You’re too nice, (Name)-Ah.” Won-Shik sighed, shaking his head. He pulled out his phone and got up. “I need to tell Dohyun Hyung. I’ll be back.” He left the room, leaving you and Junho alone.

Junho nuzzled your hair before sighing softly. “Why’d you tell him that we slept together, (Name)-Ah? That was dangerous.”

“He would never hurt me physically.”

“But he has no problem hurting you mentally.”

You only closed your eyes, burying your face into the blanket cocoon. You were too mentally tired to think about this right now. Right now, you wanted to the warmth of Junho and your blanket cocoon.

It seemed you fell asleep because you woke up to Young-Jae on the bed with you. He was wrapped around you like an octopus, leg and arm over your body. Soft snores left his throat as you could see drool on his chin. You almost laughed at the sight.

Another body pressed against you as you looked to your left to see Dohyun right beside you, fast asleep. He looked like an angel compared to Young-Jae’s chaotic form. Dohyun’s arms were cross against his chest as his hair somehow stayed perfectly neat. How could one sleep like that?

A grunt left Young-Jae as he mumbled something before he opened his eye. His eye narrowed in on you as if he was trying to see if you were awake.

“….?egah?”

“What?” You laughed, watching as he sat up, pulling away from you. Young-Jae yawned, stretching his arms out before turning to look down at you.

“How’d you sleep?” He asked.

“Good. This cocoon is comforting.”

Young-Jae nodded as he rubbed his bed head. He glanced around before humming. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About Kim Ye-Jun?”

“No. The sub space.”

“Sub space? Did I really get into it?”

“I’m guessing. With how Won-Shik described your behavior when he came to get you. Have you ever experienced it before?”

“No… I don’t think Kim Ye-Jun knows anything about that type of stuff. Our sex back then was pretty vanilla. It’s only the two times we’ve fucked that he’s been more mean and dominant during sex.”

“So you guys didn’t discuss any boundaries or anything like that?”

“No. Why would we?”

Young-Jae sighed. “Of course. Well he’s still a dick either way even if you were both naive to what you were doing. Did he really say he hated you?”

You hummed, looking down.

“He’s insane. He acts so lovey dovey on Instagram but he seems unhinged in person.”

“It’s like…” You frown, pursing your lips together. “He has trouble speaking his feelings when we’re face to face. But on text, he acts like how he used to act before we broke up.”

“Do you think… he does it on purpose? Or maybe he just doesn’t realize?”

“I don’t know. I want him to realize how he’s affecting me. First I think he’s acting loving towards me and then he does shit like this.”

“I told you,” Young-Jae smirked. “You’re going to have to punch him. You gotta let him know he isn’t the boss of this relationship if you really won’t leave him. Stop letting him lead the conversations.”

You thought back to what Roha said. How he had to punch some sense into Ye-Jun to tell him how he was being suffocating. Maybe… Maybe you did need to stop acting nice.

Kim Ye-Jun would only listen with violence. Because it seemed he never grew up during his high school years.

And if that didn’t work…

You’d have to gain the strength to completely cut Kim Ye-Jun out of your life forever.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

↳ SONG NOEUL

↳ ywure intarcating wiz hem agaen i tuld ywu to cemo buck to me

↳ thus wel be ywoure fult fagot

↳ cho (name) bund wel be reined becaze of ywo

↳ kell ywor silf for twryinf to abendon me

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

It had been over a week since the whole incident. Ye-Jun had made no attempt to contact you. You kept drafting so many messages on what to send him. Wondering if it’d be better to meet him in person.

You felt like you’d pop a blood vessel if you continued any longer.

So, Won-Shik and Young-Jae took you out to dinner. It was a restaurant you’ve never tried so you were excited the entire time. Won-Shik and Young-Jae knew how to get your mind off things with ease.

You felt a pep in your step as you walked behind Young-Jae with Won-Shik beside you. They wanted to take a scenic walk through the park before going home. Won-Shik was showing you something on your phone when Young-Jae suddenly stopped.

“Huh? Something wrong?” You asked, walking up to see what made him pause.

It was Roha, Ye-Jun and another band member of theirs. You couldn’t tell who it was until they walked over. Ah, it was Shion. Shion’s eyes narrowed on you as if it was the first time he was ever seeing you. Roha grinned and waved.

Ye-Jun, for the first time in forever, avoided eye contact with you.

You almost thought that it couldn’t have been Ye-Jun at all.

“Evening. I’m Park Shion. I don’t think we properly met.” Shion said, holding his hand out. Young-Jae glared at his hand while Won-Shik stepped over and returned his handshake. With Won-Shik being the oldest, he had a duty to protect his maknaes.

“Shin Won-Shik. Introduce yourself.” He told you and Young-Jae.

“… Lee Young-Jae.”

“Cho (Name).”

“Im Roha.”

It was silent before Shion grabbed Ye-Jun by the back of his neck, essentially scuffing him like a cat. Ye-Jun grunted before sending a deadly glare at Shion.

“…Kim Ye-Jun.”

“I know.” Won-Shik answered, eyeing Ye-Jun up and down. Ye-Jun was 6 foot but was nothing compared to Won-Shik’s 6’3. You had some weirdly tall band mates. It was practically a joke from your company that half of the band should’ve been volleyball players.

An awkward silence filled the space as the six of you stared at each other. Only Roha seemed amused by everything, a light smirk on his lips as he looked over at you. He chuckled and motioned at Ye-Jun, making a bawling motion with his hands.

Bawling? Kim Ye-Jun bawling? It’d be a frigid day in hell if that was true.

But Roha wouldn’t have any reason to lie to you.

Roha stopped for a moment before he began to mouth something to you.

Geu… reul… ju…meok..eu..ro?

그를 주먹으로?

Geureul jumeokeuro?

It took a moment before it could register in your mind. Punch him. Roha was telling you to punch him. A grin spread on your lips as you took in Roha’s advice.

Won-Shik tilted his head as he stared straight at Ye-Jun. “Why are you bothering my maknae? Are you so lonely that you go after someone you willfully mistreated? Has your personality pushed away everyone that you have to prey on someone who has an unconditional love for you that it’s the cause of their own downfall?”

You watched as he stepped forward, leaning his head down so he could look Ye-Jun straight in the eye. Ye-Jun’s lips straightened into a thin line as he stared right back him, eyes narrowing as if he was daring Won-Shik to continue.

That didn’t seem to be the right answer as Won-Shik grabbed Ye-Jun’s jacket and pulled him close. Roha backed away, an amused smirk on his lips while Shion sighed. He didn’t make any effort to help Ye-Jun though—he was shorter than the both of them at 5’9. No way in hell would he risk himself for Ye-Jun’s own problem.

“You talk all that shit to (Name) and Junho but you can’t do it to me? Do I scare you, Kim Ye-Jun?” Won-Shik was certainly scaring you. Being tall with a muscular body was just intimidating in general. Pair it with his features—he just looked naturally scary.

It was a thing in the fandom that many of the fans found it hot how scary he could be while cuddly the next.

And right now, you were glad none of the fans ever saw how scary Won-Shik could truly be.

“Stop playing with (Name). Because if you truly wanted him like you say, you wouldn’t leave him a sobbing mess for us to clean up after you ruined him for your own pleasure.” Won-Shik released his grip on Ye-Jun, shaking his head as he walked away from him.

Young-Jae frowned. “I was hoping you’d punch him.”

Roha laughed. “Yeah me too!”

“Roha!” Shion glared at Roha who only laughed, shrugging his shoulders. Ye-Jun rubbed at the collar of his jacket as he straightened it back. He still wouldn’t look at you. Somehow that made you angrier than anything he’s done before.

The whole speech you had wanted to give him was long out of your mind at this point. You would probably speak to him another time.

Your feet moved before you could even think. The others watched you, Won-Shik instinctively reaching out to stop you. Ye-Jun finally looked over at you when he noticed you from his peripheral vision. He opened his mouth to speak but you stopped him.

“(Name)—”

A shocked yell left Shion as everyone watched in shock as you slam your fist square inbetween Ye-Jun’s eyes. Ye-Jun’s balance stumbled as he grunted at the force, about to fall to the ground until Roha grabbed his arms. Roha began laughing, holding Ye-Jun from off the floor.

“I didn’t think you’d actually punch him!” Young-Jae yelled, unsure if he should feel proud or shocked.

You whined, shaking your right hand as you brought it up to your face to see your knuckles were bleeding. Fuck, did punching people always hurt like this?

“You’re so funny, Cho (Name)! I meant it metaphorically but he deserved to be punched!” Roha laughed.

“Wait, you never punched..? But you said you socked him in the face?” You cried, wondered how the fuck you were wrong in your interpretation of events.

“Poor wording. I did shove him against a table and he ended up hurting his face from the fall. But this is the best day of my life!”

Shion looked mostly shocked. He glanced down at Ye-Jun. “Shit, he’s bleeding. How am I going to explain this to Riwoo Hyung?!”

Roha shrugged. “Tell him Ye-Jun fucked around and found out. Let’s go, I’m tired of holding him up.”

Won-Shik was just staring at you, mouth agape before a wide grin spread on his lips. He grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you up, spinning around despite your yelps for him to put you down.

“Cho (Name)!! Who knew you had it in you? You’re not just a cute maknae, you’re a strong maknae! You might’ve broke his nose!”

Young-Jae walked over to you two and smirked. “Let’s hope he doesn’t hate you enough to press charges.”

You and Won-Shik stopped celebrating as realization began to settle in. Ah fuck. You looked over to see Roha and Shion dragging Ye-Jun away. Roha looked back and waved goodbye, giving you a thumbs up.

It was so odd that Ye-Jun’s childhood friend would enjoy seeing his friend get beat. Shion didn’t even seem too upset. You could see them both struggle a bit, Roha and Shion were slimmer compared to Ye-Jun’s stocker build as they dragged him away.

Won-Shik finally placed you on the ground as he lovingly patted your head. “Let’s not tell Dohyun Hyung. He’d have a heart attack.”

Young-Jae hummed. “Yeah, Jagi might pass out and I won’t get to fuck him tonight.”

You and Won-Shik stared at Young-Jae with an unimpressed expression. “Gross.” You said in unison.

“What?”

The rest of the walk back to the apartment complex was fun. Won-Shik kept complimenting you about the punch while saying you should’ve went for a different form. It was the reason why you ended up hurting your hand just as bad.

Your right hand was in total pain. Your knuckles bloody. It hurt to flex your hand so you were just keeping it as still as possible until Yuki could dress your wound once you got home. Though it would be a pain to explain what happened to Yuki.

Hopefully he’d be proud of you.

Just as you reached the door to the complex, the sight of someone caused you to froze.

Standing near the building dressed in a white t-shirt and a puffy black jacket with black sweatpants. You almost thought you were going crazy until the person took off their cap and pulled down their mask.

Song Noeul.

He looked prettier in person. His lips pulled into a wide smile. “(Name) Hyung?” His voice like a melody. You always wondered why he quit singing when his voice was so soft and sweet.

“SONG NOEUL?! I love your dramas!!!” Won-Shik yelled, practically vibrating in excitement. Noeul looked shocked at first before smiling at Won-Shik. He bowed his head.

“Thank you, Shin Won-Shik.”

“YOU KNOW MY NAME?!? HAHAH!!! Call me Won-Shik Hyung, please!!!!”

“Calm the fuck down, Hyung.” Young-Jae muttered. “He’s here for (Name), not for you to fanboy all over him.”

Won-Shik quickly schooled his expression, nodding. “Yes, of course. Right. Haha. We’ll leave you two alone.” He didn’t make an effort to move so Young-Jae grabbed his arm and began to pull him away.

“Wait, wait!!! CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH NEXT TIME YOU VISIT!!! PLEASE VISIT AGAIN!!! (Name)!!! This your chance!!!” Won-Shik screamed even as Young-Jae pulled him inside the complex.

You blushed in embarrassment, biting your lip as Noeul only laughed. He turned his attention over to you.

“Your Instagram posts are cute.” Noeul said. “I didn’t know if I was imagining it the first time but I’m glad I wasn’t. I missed talking to you.”

“Why.. Why did you lose contact with me?” You whispered.

Noeul frowned. “I’m sorry, Hyung. I didn’t want to. But I’ve been… I’ve been stalked for a while and my manager told me to change my number. But she didn’t allow me to get most of my contacts back that weren’t her and my parents. She said I couldn’t trust anyone since it was the beginning of my career. It’s always fragile in the beginning.”

“Are you still being stalked?”

“Not that I know of. I’m still advised to be careful.” He pulled out his phone and smiled. “But I wanted to get your number anyway. I wanted my hyung back.”

You stared at his phone before reaching over to grab it, putting in your number. A gummy smile pulled on his lips as he giggled, stepping closer to you.

“I’m taller than you now. You didn’t grow at all.”

You pouted. “Rude. Is that any way to talk to your hyung?”

“Mhm, maybe?”

Noeul and you broke into a fit of giggles. It was nice to see him again. Alive and well. You subconsciously flexed your right hand and groaned. Noeul frowned, leaning in closer as he caught sight of your hand.

“Hyung…! What happened? Are you okay?” He gently grasped your hand, bringing it close as he took in the damage. His finger almost threatened to accidentally rub against the wound but he stopped himself just in time.

“Ah.. I punched someone.”

“Punch..? Who?!”

“Hah, Kim Ye-Jun.”

“Kim… Kim Ye-Jun?! Black Rose’s Kim Ye-Jun?! What did he do to deserve that?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you another time.”

Noeul frowned but nodded his hand. “Okay. It’s getting late, I should go back before my manager notices I’m gone.”

“You didn’t tell her that you left? Song Noeul!”

“It’s okay. I’m only a twenty minute walk away from here.”

You glared at him, almost wanting to chastise him but decided against it. It almost felt like you never stopped talking to him. Noeul blinked, staring at you for a second before his eyes flickered down to your lips.

“You hurt your lip too..?”

His finger gently touched the scab on your bottom lip. It was from Ye-Jun. He really had bite your lip open. You watched Noeul as he frowned slightly. His gaze softened.

“You’re still so accident prone, Hyung.”

You stopped yourself from saying it was from the same man. Instead, you leaned closer into Noeul’s space. His body stiffen for a second and you almost stepped away until he took a stepped forward.

“I should get going.” He whispered.

“Mhm. Yeah, I need to get my wound dressed.”

It felt like time stopped as you pressed your body against his. Your eyes fluttered close as you leaned on your toes. You didn’t feel anything for a moment and almost believed you were reading too far into things when soft lips pressed against yours.

The kiss was slow. Almost like you both were scared that you were dreaming. Like a peck you’d give your first ever boyfriend. You didn’t want to deepen it. The pure feeling you got from Noeul was everything you wanted. No, needed.

You pulled away from the kiss and slowly opened your eyes. Noeul smiled as he rubbed at your cheek. You hadn’t even noticed that you were crying. After months of Kim Ye-Jun, a love you wished could be like it was before… Song Noeul felt safe.

But you didn’t want to use him. You couldn’t use him for your own selfish benefit. So you reluctantly pulled away. Noeul didn’t stop you, allowing you to slip from his hold.

“Sorry… I just…”

“It’s okay, Hyung.” Noeul smiled. “Y’know, it reminded me of our first ever kiss. I kissed you that day and you pulled away, apologizing right after.”

“Oh, yeah…”

“So I know that we’ll be okay. I’m don’t know what I feel for you, Hyung. I’m not sure if it’s nostalgia but I want you. I’ve liked you since that winter we met. I think I still like you. I haven’t been able to connect with anyone after you.”

“I… I feel the same. But I need to explain to you something before we can continue, okay? Just not tonight. I’m too tired.” You confessed, biting your lip.

Noeul hummed, seemingly understanding. “Okay. I’ll let you go up, Hyung. Talk to you soon.” He slipped on his cap and pulled up his mask, waving goodbye as he walked away. You watched him walk for a moment before going inside when you couldn’t see him anymore.

You were in the elevator when you got a text. You pulled out your phone and checked the message.

It was from Noeul.

It was just a picture—an older one. He looked shy in the picture, mostly looking at you who was holding the phone to do a selfie. Your grin was wide as you held up a peace sign. Noeul was following you as he held a makeshift peace sign that didn’t fully extend. It almost looked like he was doing air quotes.

A smile spread across your lips.

It felt nice to finally have someone calming in your life resurface.

Ice to cool you down from the fire that was Kim Ye-Jun.

But of course, you shouldn’t have gotten so comfortable.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

↴

Uhm, dude. I don’t know if you know this, but I’m not Song Noeul? You got the wrong number

↴

Also, you’re fucking insane and can’t spell for shit

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

→ no way ㅋㅋㅋㅋ he’s gay??

→ shameless to be making out in public

→ wtf? I’ve been simping over a gay man??

→ gross ㅋㅋㅋ

→ ugh, waste of a man!!

→ I’m not sure why you girls are whining, not like you would’ve had a chance with him anyway ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

→ isn’t he in a recent drama with a kid???

→ poor kid ㅠㅠ we gotta get him out before he gets the kid

→ there’s literal rapists walking free in the film industry, but sure, homotron 3000 is the problem

→ uhm, why is no one weirded out that some of these pictures are taken in the privacy of Song Noeul’s home????!

→ is it just me or does it look like he has bruises on his body for a few of these pics?? Dispatch wtf?

→ he literally looks underaged in some of these pictures?? Why am I seeing a minors nudes?

→ it doesn’t matter that it’s pixilated, why are you showing this?! Guys we gotta report the post

→ Moon Taeil literally exists and yall seem more angry at a gay man??

→ I don’t care that he likes sucking dick, at least he can act

→ yall are so fucking funny. If Song Noeul dies because of this don’t pretend you care about celebrities mental health for a week before forgetting all about him

→ fucking gross, he probably makes Black Rose uncomfortable ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

→ he’s dating Love Countdown’s Cho (Name)???

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

@Dohyungotafatty (↑639 ↓248)

↳ damn, I was wrong. Cho (Name) isn’t dating Kim Ye-Jun ㅎㅎ

@junhoswhore (↑1264 ↓387)

↳ uh, isn’t this revenge porn?

@yukiiwukki (↑2763 ↓19)

↳ the person who sold the info to dispatch seem insane ㅋㅋㅋ why do we have to know about an actor’s love life?

@_loveandfear (↑635 ↓127)

↳ he’s literally a minor in some of the pictures, dispatch fucking delete these

@jaesflatass (↑3872 ↓498)

↳ I forgot homophobia existed ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@lovewonshiik (↑835 ↓376)

↳ the cute guys are always gay… I hope Won-Shik is straight ㅠㅠ

@Dohyungotafatty (↑1972 ↓287)

↳ it’s not like you had a chance ㅋㅋ

@freakfundashi (↑532 ↓9)

↳ It doesn’t feel right to make a sex joke right now ㅠㅠ I hope Song Noeul is okay

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Roha Hyung

↳ don’t check online. Don’t check your comments, please don’t. Take care of yourself.

Wonnie Hyung

↳ stay home, (Name). I’m coming with Manager Nayoung

Dohyunie Hyung

↳ I’m sorry this is happening to you, baby. Don’t leave your room. Jae and I are coming over, we’re just stuck in traffic

Jae Hyung

↳ it was him right?! I’m going to fucking kill him

↳ this better not have been Kim Ye-Jun I swear to god

Jun Jun Hyung

↳ (Name)… open the door please. I know you hear me. Please, I need to make sure you’re okay

Ki Ki Hyung

↳ don’t test me, (Name). I will unscrew the bolts of your door if you don’t open it now

Manager Choi Nayoung

↳ don’t you dare think we’re angry at you, Cho (Name). I’m sorry you were outed like this. I’m coming now to check on you. We’ll figure out how to deal with this and find out who sold the information to dispatch.

Kim “Son of a bitch” Ye-Jun

↳ Cho (Name). Stop looking at the comments. I know you are. It might hurt now but know those people aren’t even your fans.

↳ not even that, why do you care about the feelings of someone you’d never meet? Of someone who would be a coward to say it to you in person?

↳ it’s not my place but Noeul isn’t answering his phone… please check on him. I’m worried

My sunset

↳ Hyung

↳ it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have came to see you. I ruined you. Please don’t hate me. Please please. I’ll fix it. I’ll handle everything.

↳ I just need to confess. There’s no point in denying it. I’m just sorry you will have to learn about this in a public setting

↳ I’ll just tell you now. It was my ex boyfriend. But please… please don’t look at any more of the pictures. I don’t.. I don’t want you to see me like that.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Song Noeul’s shocking past; revealed by supposed ex lover!

Plus evidence of Love Countdown’s Cho (Name) and Song Noeul’s budding romance since 20XX!

Your eyes grazed over the post multiple times.

You just couldn’t be happy for a second could you? Now you dragged Noeul down with you when he was dealing with something arguably worse.

You could hear Junho and Yuki calling you from outside your door. You almost got up to open the door before Yuki kept his promise when your phone began ringing.

It was your mother.

Hehe, suddenly there’s a whole story line? This wasn’t supposed to be 16k words. If you noticed, Ye-Jun isn’t the only love interest anymore, get ready to learn more about Song Noeul in chapter 3 :) I’m finally giving threesomes a chance. Get used to porn with plot from me lol

Anyway thank @teyvat-writer for the idea for reader to punch Ye-Jun.

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life25 @love-kha1 @star-3214 @terapung @flurrina @smellwell @iwishtobeacrow @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world @tehyunnie @remdayz @ofclyde @tomoeroi @cherry-blossoms-187 @kiiyoooo @glittervame

Translations:

❝ 날 그대로 받아들여, 너의 두려운 ❞ — accept me as I am, your fear

너무 예뻐서, 자기. — it’s pretty, Jagi

❝ 차가운 네 눈이 나를 삼켜 ❞ — your cold eyes swallow me

❝ 불안하게 만드는 거야 왜? ❞ — why are you making me anxious?

❝ 반대로 가고 있는 것 같아요 ❞ — it seems like I’m moving backwards

Songs used: Monster by EXO, beyOnd by OnlyOneOf’s Nine, and Not Mine by Day6

#bottom male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #uke male reader #male reader #oc x reader #mlm ns/fw #male bottom reader #original character

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