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ceilidho · 2 days ago

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Buttermilk

It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au

Part 1 | masterlist

“I’m not looking for a babysitter that can only come by every now and then,” he says sternly and pauses for emphasis, brows furrowing to convey the seriousness of the situation. “I’ve got a busy schedule and his mom isn’t in the picture. I need a real commitment.”

You sit across from him wringing your hands under the kitchen table, wondering again what it is you’re doing here. Babysitting has never been your schtick; you’re somewhere in between too old to do it as a casual gig for extra cash and too young and inexperienced to be considered for a full-time position.

Yet, it seems like that’s what he’s looking for, based on the information he’s told you and your general impression from having been in his house for less than twenty minutes. The house is a mess—toys strewn across the baby’s bedroom and the living room, dishes crusted with day old food sitting in the sink, the bookshelf in his study covered in a fine layer of dust that tells you that this man spends so little time in his own house that it’s become something of a requiem to single fatherhood.

“So, a nanny?” you ask.

He hems and haws over that for a bit. “Bit too fancy for my tastes, but that’s more like it. It won’t just be watching the baby—I need someone who can help out around the house as well. ‘Used to run a tight ship before him, but cleaning’s not been my highest priority these days. Sure you’ve picked up on that.” He says the last part wryly, lips curling up into a crooked grin under his mustache.

“Well…” You trail off while glancing at the mess in the living room out of the corner of your eye, toys and blocks scattered over the playmat. Your own smile is sheepish.

“I work odd hours, so I’ll be gone a lot; you’ll probably have a few late nights here, but I pay well. Think that’s something you can handle?”

A polite refusal sits on the tip of your tongue until you swallow it back, suddenly conscious again of the dwindling funds in your bank account. It’s not that you don’t think you could handle the job. You’ve babysat before (only preteens, you correct yourself internally, but surely there are some transferable skills there). And, eclipsing all of your arguments in favour of walking out the door right now, is the very salient and pressing need for an actual income.

“You’re military, you said?” you croak out instead.

He nods, hums. “Bit of a glorified desk job these days. They don’t put the old timers out in the field. Still, keeps me busy.”

You frown at that. “You’re not that old.”

That gets him to cock an eyebrow. “Love, I’m over twice your age, easy. I’m plenty old for a first time father on top of that; should’ve already been an old hand at this, but I’ve been married to the job for too long.”

You don’t ask if the baby was an accident or how it came to be that he chose to raise the baby on his own rather than try to work something out with the mother or give him up altogether. It seems uncouth. Rude. It’s none of your business and, more to the point, hardly relevant to the job. It’s just your own insatiable need to pry and know every little detail raising its head to sniff the air.

“Well, I think—” You chew on your words and then backtrack. “—I can handle the job. I live nearby, so I can be here whenever you need me. If you need references, I can—”

“No need,” he cuts you off, waving a hand in front of him. “I’m a good judge of character. If you wanna help put the baby to bed, we can talk salary and I’ll go over my schedule this week with you.”

The chair scrapes against the tile floor when he stands up, pushing it out from under him. Standing, he towers over you, a big, fit man despite his protests to the contrary. Hardly out of his prime. You’d put him at forty-five at the latest, and still a work horse of a man at that; broad like a draft horse, like he flips tires and runs marathons for fun. When you push out your chair and stand as well, you’re still forced to look up at him.

“Sure can, Mister…—?” You realize with a slight start that you only remember his first name, though it hardly feels appropriate to call him by that given the fact that he’s about to become your boss. Already is your boss.

“Price. But John works just fine,” he corrects, his smile warm, almost paternalistic.

You ignore the flash of heat up your spine and the way your belly constricts when he reaches across the table to shake your hand. His big, calloused palm dwarfs yours, fingers easily overlapping. You might as well be shaking a mitt.

“Well, thanks for the job, John,” you say with a smile of your own, ignoring the way yours strains at the end, anxiety already gnawing a hole through the lining of your stomach that your stomach acid will now most certainly leak through. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t, sweetheart.”

His words seem like a bellwether for something that you can’t yet articulate or even anticipate. Regardless, they make you swallow reflexively when you start salivating out of nowhere. You should probably quit on the spot actually, just out of principle alone, but again you remember the gut-churning sensation of checking your bank balance in the middle of the grocery store the other day before putting half of the contents of your cart back onto the shelf beside you.

You follow him into the playroom instead, where a fuzzy headed infant gasps up at his daddy, blinking big lovestruck eyes up at him. Your own heart feels like a melted caramel in your chest when John picks his son up, eyes crinkling with affection. The baby is so tiny in his arms.

Any thought of being a good person evaporates from your mind. As if you ever had a chance.

You don’t know how he found you. Through a friend of a friend of a friend’s dad’s coworker, maybe. Word of mouth. Watercooler conversation and a heaping cup of gossip.

“Did you hear the Captain’s looking for a babysitter?”

“For what? To bang?”

“No, dipshit. He knocked some broad up and she left him with the baby.”

“No kidding. The Captain?”

“Didn’t I just fuckin’ say that?”

“Price, you mean? Captain Price?”

“Are you fuckin’ deaf? Yeah—Price.”

“Christ. Godspeed to him. A baby. Goddamn.”

“Give it a rest, it happens all the time. That’s why you always wrap it up. Anyway, you know of anyone that’d be up for it?”

And then somehow, your name gets mentioned. Much to your relief. Job opportunities don’t knock on your door all that often, and when John finally gets around to telling you your hourly rate, you almost burst into hysterical giggles in front of him. It’s more than you expected. More than you deserve, if you’re being honest. You’re retroactively grateful that he didn’t ask you to name your rate because you wouldn’t have dared propose something anywhere close to what he offers.

It’s a straightforward gig. John doesn’t work the typical nine-to-five, so you show up at the times he made you write down on that first day in his living room after your interview and you leave whenever he comes home. The first week is fairly true to the schedule he laid out for you. He’s only late by around half an hour one evening, but that was another condition that he made you well aware of prior to giving you the job.

You know better than to put up a fuss. You’re already learning on the job as it is; with your anxiety at a ten at all times, you appreciate the extra half hour to keep googling baby-specific information. What to do during tummy time. The benefits of baby massage. How to change a diaper. You’re learning all sorts of things these days.

To your credit, he could’ve done worse. The day after John hires you, you sign up for an intensive babysitting course over the weekend and read the online manual front to back. Your CPR certificate is still valid, but you book a refresher course as well just to be on the safe side. It’s a bit unbearable to watch the funds drain out of your account before you’ve even had a chance to earn your first paycheck, but it’s worth it for the burgeoning confidence that you bring on your first day.

Babies are fun to be around, you realize, much to your own delight. Babysitting—or rather, nannying, but John still introduces you to the neighbours as his babysitter, plus nannying requires a host of additional accreditations that you simply just do not have—might not have been a job that you ever expected yourself to like, but you find yourself kind of morose at the end of each day when you have to say goodbye to baby, and even going so far as to turn in early when you get home so you’ll be ready bright and early the next morning.

Babies also smell better than anything you’ve ever smelt in your life. You could huff the top of this little guy’s head morning, noon, and night. Milky and clean; it barely takes a few days to become addicted to the smell of his little head. When he’s cradled in your arms, you can’t help but press your nose to the top of his head and take a deep inhale, eyes fluttering shut. It’s some good shit.

You keep a journal filled with notes to relay to John when he comes home at the end of the night and keep your phone close to you during babytime to film any important moments that John might’ve otherwise missed.

“He started babbling today,” you tell John the second he walks through the door, the video already pulled up on your phone. You haven’t felt this excited in ages. “Look.”

He’s still in his fatigues and everything, but he humours you and takes the baby when you pass him over, cooing and tickling his belly until the baby squeals and babbles again for him.

“See?” you gush, mooning over him. You don’t have the presence of mind to be self-conscious in the moment.

“Yeah,” John remarks, lifting his son up to blow a raspberry into his belly and grinning at his ensuing peals of laughter. “Ain’t that something.”

If the smile in his voice has anything to do with you, you don’t pick up on it.

On top of everything, John turns out to be a really good boss. Despite his gruff, intimidating exterior, he’s remarkably kind and patient with you. He doesn’t nag you for missing a spot when cleaning the bathroom. He doesn’t scold you the day your car breaks down and you’re forced to take the nearest bus to his place, tacking on an extra twenty minutes to your commute, even though that means that he’s invariably late for work. When you accidentally use scouring powder on the inside of his Le Creuset Dutch oven and scratch off the enamel, he gently talks you out of a sobbing fit, seemingly unbothered by the state of his scratched up crockery.

He shrugs when you bring it up. “It’s got a lifetime warranty anyway. I’ll bring it into the shop over the weekend. No use getting upset about it.”

Unflappable. That’s the word for it. It’s like as long as he’s able to come home to the baby and you in one piece, nothing else matters, and that sense of calm permeates the whole house; for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel like you have to walk on eggshells around someone.

Your only qualm—and it’s hardly even a qualm, to be honest, more of just an observation—is that John is more of a physical person than you are.

When he wants to move you, he does—two big hands clamped around your waist and only a fraction of his strength to move you away from the stove so he can take over cooking while you check on the baby, your mouth hanging open, aghast. Fuming at his nerve. The gall of him to manhandle you.

You don’t hold it against him though. You haven’t spent much time around groups of men, but you’ve seen military movies before and it seems like the status quo for men to grab and push each other around. If anything, he’s gentle with you.

It’s just that—and again, John’s the first adult man you’ve spent any one-on-one time with, what with it just being the two of you and the baby in his house, so your frame of reference is microscopic—you’re not completely sure whether it’s appropriate for your boss to be so touchy.

You don’t mean to insinuate that he’s being inappropriate. It’s just that—and again you have to catch yourself before you go making assertions about people because John is honestly such a nice man and he’s done nothing but treat you fairly and made you feel safe and welcome, but…—sometimes he insists on you staying over for dinner after he comes home from work and doesn’t take no for an answer.

You’re never in any rush to leave. There’s not exactly anything waiting for you in your dingy little apartment. So when he asks you to stay, you have no good reason to refuse. It’s nice to get a free meal as well. With the way John gives you unfettered access to the fridge and pantry, you hardly need to buy groceries at all these days. You feel a little guilty about that, but you know what it’s like to go hungry.

Maybe that’s why you stay for supper the first time he asks a couple weeks into you working for him. You’re subconsciously mortified that you’ll eat his food when he’s not gone but not when he offers it to you.

At least dinner feels like something you’ve been given rather than just taking, taking, taking.

Not to mention you’ve developed something of a rapport. There’s always something to talk about with John: the baby, his work, a show you watched on TV after putting the baby down for a nap, the new big Tesco four blocks from your place, his late teens before joining the military (“back when you weren’t even a thought in your mum’s head,” he jokes, cutting into his steak and something in your brain pops and fritzes out like the static between radio stations).

The first few suppers are sporadic and never long enough to make you feel like you’ve overstayed your welcome. In all honesty, they’re the few bright spots in an otherwise dull life. Outside of your job and the infrequent dinners, you’re estranged from your family and you’ve only got a few close friends in town that you see maybe once or twice a month. Nothing to write home about. Some Friday nights, the yoga studio near your flat has a five pound community class that you pop in for, but those are infrequent too.

Then there’s the odd night where he shoos you into the living room to put on a movie while he cleans up after dinner. You stare absentmindedly at his forearms when he rolls up his sleeves and then jump when you find him staring at you expectantly over his shoulder.

“Go put something on,” John tells you, a warning look in his eye. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Sorry,” you whisper before slipping off into the living room.

You can’t relax on the couch while you wait. You flinch when he finally joins you, sitting down on the other side of the couch suddenly. You hadn’t even heard him coming; he’s light on his feet for such a big man.

The buddy cop comedy you picked barely distracts you from the fact that your boss is sitting on the other side of the couch. You spend the whole two hour run time so nervous that you’re afraid you’ll buzz right out of your skin.

For absolutely no reason, of course, because all John does is make light conversation with you throughout the movie. Conversation that you respond to in curt, choked whispers. When he walks you to the door after the movie, all you can focus on is how utterly embarrassed you are for being so weird.

Your dreams that night come frantic and heady. Humid under the blanket. The phantom feeling of a body heavier than yours weighing down one side of the couch and you sliding towards it gradually, unable to even cling onto the arm of the couch to keep from falling into his lap.

Then hands on your belly, cupping and holding. Thick fingers with hairy knuckles. A warm, tobacco smell wafting under your nose, sweet like tonka bean and smoke. Nothing you can do to keep them from travelling down your stomach and thighs and spreading your legs wide, big hands curving around your inner thighs until—

You wake up panting, fingers pressed against your clit in your sleep. It takes nothing to bring yourself over the edge, dark blue eyes swimming on the precipice of your conscious mind.

“Sleep well?” John asks you the next morning when you show up on his doorstep, handing you the baby before you’ve even said so much as a word. You hold the baby to your chest like a makeshift shield. Anything to put some distance between you and the man who has now taken to starring in your dreams.

“Not bad,” you squeak.

You flinch when he guides you in with a hand on your back and shuts the door behind you. Your cunt pulses when his fingers press firm against the small of your back, hand bigger than you remembered from your dream.

As if you were ever going to end up anywhere but here.

#ceil writing #cod x reader #price x reader #price/reader #john price x reader #john price x you #john price/reader #captain price x reader #captain price x you

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hannyoontify · 1 month ago

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the way you said hello - kim mingyu

member | executive chef!mingyu x reader (ft. jeonghan & seungkwan)

genre | (implied) soulmates!au, meet cute, strangers to lovers au, fluff, (angst if you rlly rlly rlly squint)

word count | 2.8k

synopsis | after a disastrous blind date, the night takes an unexpected turn when the restaurant’s handsome owner, mingyu, steps in. what starts as an act of kindness quickly becomes something more as sparks fly over a chance meeting

warnings | cursing, lowk kinda suggestive if you squint, kissing, one (1) mention of a knife, mentions of mingyu having previous injuries sustained from his occupation, there is a SIGNIFICANT time skip at the end but i don't specify how much LMAO that's up to ygs discretion

notes | requested by anon! i'm so sorry if this wasn't the direction you wanted it to go in 😭 i swear i tried my best! lowk don't know if i like this or not but i really liked the bickering between oc n seunghan NOT PROOFREAD

this can be read as a stand-alone or as a sequel to this mingyu fic!

You anxiously bounced your leg under the table, gently gnawing on your bottom lip as you glanced around the fancy restaurant. Across from you, the chair in front of you had now been empty for an awfully long time now and something told you that your blind date had ditched, leaving you with the incredibly overwhelming and taxing bill.

Fuck.

You rested your head in your hands and let out a tired sigh. There was no way this was happening.

As you reached for your wallet, you flagged down a nearby waiter to ask for the bill. He nodded at your request and you let out what seemed to the umpteenth sigh of that night. While waiting for the bill to reach your table, you began rearranging the leftover peas on your porcelain plate.

“Didn’t know we had a Picasso in the house.” An unfamiliar voice remarked next to you.

You yelped in surprise and whipped around to see a tall, handsome young man peering over your shoulder with an amused smile. He was in a black button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his prominent forearm muscles, tucked into a pair of dark trousers. “That’s very impressive… is that a self-portrait?”

You snorted in disbelief, your shoulders shaking as you let out a quiet laugh. “No, it’s supposed to be my date. Too bad they left before I could remember what they looked like.”

The mysterious man scrunched up his handsome face, as if to say ‘Ouch’. “Do you mind if I—?” He gestured towards the empty seat in front of you and you nodded.

“Go ahead. That seat’s going to be empty for the rest of the night anyways.” You let out a bitter laugh. He gave you a sympathetic smile and situated himself in front of you with an arm outstretched reaching over the table.

“Kim Mingyu. I’m the owner and executive chef of this restaurant. I received a report that there was an attractive young person who was left on their lonesome after their date mysteriously disappeared.” The man, Mingyu, tilted his head. “Didn’t think said person was going to be this attractive though.”

You blushed at his compliment as you shook his hand. “[Name]. Not sure who snitched on me, though I’m glad to have new company.”

“Are you… on your way out now? Since your date is gone?”

“Yes, I’m just waiting for the bill.”

Mingyu waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

After spilling coffee on your blouse this morning and running 30 minutes late for work, you were more than positive that the day was going to end in disaster. The disappearance of your blind date following a very long, tiring day at work only confirmed those suspicions. However, it seemed like that the goddess of luck was no longer hellbent on making your life a living disaster with the way the stranger sitting across from you managed to douse out the fire that had been burning within you for the past few hours with a single smile.

“I’m afraid I’m not. But if you feel pressured or aren’t comfortable with it, no worries!” Mingyu said lightheartedly.

“Oh my God,” You ran a tired hand through your face and let out a dry, incredulous laugh. “You literally just saved me from having the worst day ever. I was preparing myself to break down into tears once I received the check. Thank you, I really appreciate that.”

He smiled at your words. “Of course, just doing my daily random act of kindness for a stranger. Although…” He trailed off and you quirked an inquisitive brow at him.

“Although?” You asked.

“Although… would it appall you if I said it was my way of shooting my shot?” Mingyu rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous laugh. His eyes nervously darted back and forth between your face and the half-eaten plate in front of him, left by your crappy blind date who was honestly, no longer in your realm of attention. Not when Mingyu was in front of you.

Shooting his shot? You felt your cheeks burn at a temperature similar to the candle perched on a candelabra on your table at his words and you coughed before fumbling to find the right words.

“I mean… I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Since you’re my savior tonight and all…” Your voice faltered and Mingyu beamed.

“That’s great! Here’s my business card, if you ever want to contact me.” He pulled out a crisp card and handed it to you as he got up from the chair. “Well, I must be getting on my way now. I’d love to stay and chat but I have big boss duties to do.”

Mingyu tipped an imaginary top hat towards your direction. You smiled. “It was nice meeting you, [Name].”

“It was nice meeting you too, Mingyu. I’ll contact you,” You waved his business card and he nodded.

“I’ll be looking forward to it. Bye, [Name].”

And with that he was gone, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of his perfume and the fluttering of your heart.

“Just call him!!” Your best friend urged you. He was sitting on the other end of the sofa, munching on a bag of chips as he watched you metaphorically rip your hair out over the business card you received from Mingyu a week ago.

“It’s not that simple, Seungkwan! What if he hates me now because it took me so long to contact him? I bet he’s forgotten about me at this point.” You pouted and continued to stare at the worn, but still elaborate cardstock in your hands.

Seungkwan rolled his eyes. “Dude, you’re overthinking this entire thing. Listen to me,” He paused to fix his posture to face you. “He gave you the business card, right?”

You nodded.

“Did he ask for your number?”

You shook your head.

“Did he receive any kind of contact information from you?”

You shook your head again.

“But he gave you his business card? [Name], he literally served you the ball on a silver platter. He’s interested in you but won’t make any moves unless you do. The ball is in your court. Take that damn ball and BOUNCE IT!”

Seungkwan let out a frustrated yell and shoved another handful of chips into his mouth. “I swear, you have the IQ of Jeonghan’s pet rock sometimes.”

“Hey! Doljjong is very intelligent!” Your other best friend yelled from the kitchen. “He has really good hearing too, so don’t insult him like that or else you’ll be dealing with me.”

Seungkwan rolled his eyes and you laughed as Jeonghan came out into the living room to give his own two cents.

“But Seungkwan’s right. The entire fate of a whole new possible relationship with this mythical Kim Mingyu—”

“HE’S REAL. I SHOOK HIS HAND.”

“—is in your hands. Don’t blow it. Or else me and Seungkwan—”

“Seungkwan and I.” You corrected him.

“—will be—Okay, fuck you, grammar police—Will be taking this matter into our own hands so we no longer have to hear your bitching and whining.”

You let out a frustrated groan and threw down the business card that’s been putting you through pain and misery through the past week.

“God, he was literally perfect. I don’t wanna blow it and—”

“That’s what they said.”

“Jeonghan, I’m going to literally throw Doljjong into the bottom of Han River and you’re going to be joining him soon after if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

Seungkwan burst into laughter and watched you and Jeonghan continue to argue back and forth.

“Forget it, it’s useless talking to a person who believes that a rock can be a pet.” You got up from your spot on the couch and reached for your phone. “I’m stepping out for some air. Lock the door if you leave before I come back.”

“See ya, don’t wanna be ya!” Jeonghan yelled from the living room as you left the house and you loudly groaned.

You loved both your best friends but they sometimes drove you absolutely insane.

The sky was dark but the countless lights from the skyscrapers and streetlights illuminated the Han River, making the surface twinkle and shine under the pale moonlight.

You were sitting on a lone bench, facing the river as you mindlessly fidgeted with Mingyu’s business card. The edges were fraying from the countless amount of times you’ve handled it between your fingertips, and you traced the black lettering of Mingyu’s name with your index finger as you silently sounded out every vowel and consonant of his name.

Seungkwan’s words rang in your head. ‘He literally served you the ball on a silver platter. He’s interested in you but won’t make any moves unless you do. The ball is in your court. Take that damn ball and BOUNCE IT!’

Like a switch was suddenly flipped inside you, you reached for your phone. The screen lit up and you pulled up a new message to type in the phone number that was written on the card in your hand.

Without a single thought, you sent,

hey! it’s [name]!

Before you could even type the first letter of your follow-up text, the status of your message changed from ‘Delivered’ to ‘Read 21:24’ and you let out a gasp.

And then the loud, shrill ringing of your ringtone cut through the peaceful night air.

You gasped louder than before after seeing the caller ID, reaching to frantically turn off the ringer before answering the phone.

“He–hello?”

“Took you long enough,” Mingyu’s voice sounded crisp and clear on the other end of the line. You couldn’t see him, but you could almost hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. “You almost had me thinking that you were ghosting me or something.”

You let out an apologetic groan. “I’m so sorry, Mingyu. I got in my head and kept putting it off. I swear it wasn’t personal…”

Mingyu’s laugh was bright. “No worries! I assumed you had your hands full. Although, I did jump a little every time I received a text from anyone from the past week.”

“Oh, man… I feel horrible. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m telling you, don’t worry about it! Better late than never, right?” There was an awkward moment of silence before he spoke again. “What are you up to right now?”

You hummed and looked out at the tranquil water of the Han River reflecting the bright lights of the city. “Nothing much. I stepped out for a minute for some air. What about you?”

“Oh, really? I’m actually out for a walk too.” You swore you heard a second voice near you, echoing the words Mingyu was saying in your phone. “Turn around for me?”

You whipped around with the phone still pressed to your ear to see Mingyu standing behind the bench, a small smile playing on his lips. You ended the phone call.

“Mingyu?”

“‘Morning, sunshine,” He slid into the empty spot next to you and you scooched over to make more room for him. “What a way to run into the guy you’ve been ghosting, huh?”

You snorted at his greeting, ignoring the slight burn you felt in your cheeks from the nickname he had addressed you by. “I told you, it wasn’t intentional.”

Mingyu grinned. “I know. Just felt like teasing you.”

“What are- what are you doing here though? Do you live in this area?” You asked. He nodded.

“Yeah. I moved into that apartment complex not too long ago,” He pointed to a tall building on the other side of the river. “Has a killer night view. You should come over to check it out sometime.”

You choked on your spit, resulting in you barking out a short, panicked laugh. “Do you—-do you usually say these… these things to people?”

“No, not really. I’m not usually like this,” Mingyu looked over at you with a slight tilt in his head. The night breeze brushed his bangs across his forehead and you felt your breath falter at the way the closest streetlight illuminated his honey-like, gorgeous skin.There was a particular glint in his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak again. “Pardon me if this is too brazen, but I’m only like this when I feel like I’ve met the one. My soulmate.”

Your breath was caught in your throat.

“Does it… usually work?” You choked out. Your face felt incredibly hot and your clammy hands were sticking to the bench.

Mingyu turned back to face the river and your stomach did an odd flip. “I’m not sure. You tell me.”

Oh God. You thought you were melting on the spot with the way he was looking at you. Mingyu was holding eye contact with such intensity, you physically couldn’t look away. Your heart hammered wildly against your ribcage and you decided you were going to sign yourself up for the upcoming Olympics, with the way your stomach was doing flips like an Olympic gymnast. Simone Biles had nothing on whatever routine was going on inside you right now.

“… I’d give it a solid 8 out of 10.” You gave him the most nonchalant shrug you could afford, knowing that there were enough butterflies in your stomach to start a butterfly conservatory. Mingyu looked at you as if he was surprised by the score.

“Really? What would I have to do to win back the last two points?”

You gave him a pointed look, and the next words to leave your mouth almost sent you into cardiac arrest. “Hmm… live up to your words? I guess?”

And the smile Mingyu gave you in that moment was the brightest one of all. His entire being seemed to glow in ecstasy, glowing brighter than the streetlights as he looked at you with a suggestive glint in his eyes. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Mingyu?” You called from the living room. Mingyu didn’t respond and the only thing you heard from the kitchen was the clattering of plates and silverware. “Babe?”

Pushing yourself off the couch with a quiet groan, you padded over to the kitchen where your fiancé was busying himself with preparing dinner. He was hunched over the counter, his hands and trusty knife busy at work as he chopped away on his chopping block. Careful not to startle him when he had a knife in his hand, you snuck your arms around Mingyu’s torso and peered over his shoulder to watch him work his magic.

“Watcha doing?” You asked sweetly. Mingyu acknowledged your presence with a short peck on your forehead.

“Hi, baby.” His voice was rough and the sound sent shivers down your spine. “Preparing to feed you. Why?”

You hummed and nuzzled your face into Mingyu’s back. He smelled like a mix of spices, sweat, and his faint woody cologne permeated your senses. “Do you think we’re soulmates?”

Mingyu set down his knife and turned around to face you, his back resting against the marble counter with his hands resting comfortably at your waist.

“What’s with the sudden question?” He quirked a well-groomed brow at you and you smiled.

“Nothing… I just read a blog about soulmates and I was curious about whether you thought they were real,” Your fingers danced along Mingyu’s strong, muscular forearms, your fingertips lightly tracing all the old scars and burn marks that signified his experience and years spent working to master his craft. You repeated your original question again. “So… do you think we’re soulmates?”

Mingyu leaned in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I don’t think so, love. I know so.”

“Really?” Your eyes brightened at his words and he nodded.

“Mhm. I knew from the moment I saw you playing with those leftover peas on your plate that I was going to marry you,” Mingyu leaned in again, nuzzling his nose against yours. You giggled. “Sometimes, I have dreams where I knew you in another life. But those dreams felt so… real. Like they’re fragments of memories from a past I can’t recall.”

“Are we married in those dreams too?”

“Mhm. We were happily married, just like we’re going to be.” Mingyu captured your lips with his, sighing gently as your fingers combed through his dark hair.

“I love you, Mingyu.” You whispered against his lips, like a secret only meant for the two of you to know. Something to be taken and hidden away, kept a secret in the deepest depths of the earth. A secret so sacred, it can only be cherished in the deepest, darkest places so that no one else can know.

“I love you too, [Name],” Mingyu’s love confession was more bold. Something he uttered with purpose and intention. He wanted the entire universe to know that he was yours. His heart belonged to you. He was going to love you loudly and boldly. “I’ll love you in every universe. Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow.”

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

a/n: this is a big personal FUCK YOU to writer's block AHGJSJD i somehow managed to push through and finish this 😭 (it was at 300 words when i started today) albeit it was on my phone, in the dark, at 1 in the morning BUT I FINISHED IT. n now my insomnia's back LMAOO

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seresinhangmanjake · 4 months ago

Text

About Time

Tyler Owens x Childhood Friend!Reader

Summary: You’ve been Tyler’s best friend since childhood, but a near-death experience makes him realize he feels much more for you than friendship and he shouldn’t have allowed himself to deny it for so long.

Warnings/Notes: cursing, mild angst, mostly fluff, typos

Words: 2300

Masterlist

It was when he almost lost you that Tyler knew he was in love with you. When he was forced to play tug of war with the violent winds to keep you in his arms. When he felt your chest move against his with your shallow, rapid breaths. When he heard his name, a soft whimper from quivering lips.

“T–Tyler…”

He tightened his grasp on your waist and mumbled, “I got you, darlin’. Just don't let go.”

At that moment, he didn't know if he could protect you, but the alternative was an unbearable thought. Living without you was unimaginable, unacceptable, so if the winds planned to take you, they would have no choice but to take him, too. Then at least you'd be going together.

He’d always felt something for you, and he understood that he probably always would, but he'd been unwilling to give it a name more intense than a teenage crush that just happened to last well past its expiration date. And while your perpetually growing beauty and intoxicating laugh made it hard for him to tame what he continued to feel, he’d managed.

But that fear of imminent death—more potent than ever—tapped into the depths of those feelings he’d been swallowing for more than a decade. The abuse of pelting rain and flying debris paled in comparison to the overwhelming storm breaking free from the neglected portion of his heart.

Once disaster moved along, you looked up at him with wide, weary eyes, and he couldn’t think clearly past the repetitive chanting in his head: ‘I love you, I love you, I love you’. Adrenaline was rushing through his veins, overpowering every other sense of logic and reason. He pushed strands of damp hair from your face, cupped your cheeks, then leaned down and sealed his lips to yours in a deep kiss. The first kiss. A kiss that typically has a much better outcome than what followed.

He hasn't seen you since that day. A week has come and gone and not one glimpse of your face, and now he’s more desperate for the sight than he’s ever been before. Missing you when you’re not around is far from new, but having released his feelings, the all-consuming sensation is worse. It’s harder to tolerate.

You're avoiding him, he knows it, but he supposes that can happen when someone kisses their best friend with no prior discussion of deeper feelings. It's not what he would do were the situation reversed—he'd still be all over you, kissing you back, smiling, never letting you go—but you've chosen to handle things quite differently, and in doing so, has left him no choice but to respond accordingly.

—

“Mornin’,” you hear, nearly dropping the pail of milk you’d been collecting all morning. Eyes darting to your right, you find Tyler sitting in one of the living room's quilted armchairs. Your heartbeat stutters.

When you turn your head to the left, your mother is leaning against the kitchen countertop, her fluffy robe tied around her body and a cup of steaming coffee in her hands that she brings to her lips as she reads the newspaper splayed out beside her.

“Mom, what is Tyler doing here?”

She glances up, swallows, and swipes her tongue across her bottom lip to catch the remnants of caramel-colored liquid. “Oh gosh, dear, he must've snuck in,” she replies, feigning ignorance. “But I’m not one for kickin’ anyone—especially not a fine, young man—off my property, so I guess he’ll just have to stay.”

With a huff, you set the pail down on the breakfast table, knowing your mother will take care of it, and shoot her a glare before making your way to the living room. Tyler stares up at you. You cross your arms and nudge your head toward the storage barn just behind the house where the two of you used to hold your late-night meetings when you were children, and later, teenagers. Many nights you spent in that barn after Tyler had snuck out of his parent’s house and chucked a pebble at your window to wake you.

Tyler nods and follows you out the back door to the large structure that protects your privacy from the prying ears of the woman inside the house.

“We gotta get you a new phone, darlin’,” Tyler says to your back once you're enclosed in the barn. “The one you've got doesn't seem to be receiving my calls…or texts…or elaborate voicemails.”

“Tyler…” you sigh, twisting to face him.

“You know we gotta talk about it,” he says. And he’s right, despite how the complicated element introduced into your relationship is entirely his fault and so you shouldn’t have to owe him the time of day until you're ready to give it. “You didn’t have to run away from me.”

“I didn’t run.” Tyler’s eyes follow the movement of your arms wrapping tighter around yourself and he swallows hard. “I walked.”

“Speed-walked,” he counters. “Borderline jogged.”

You groan, your tense shoulders sagging. “Tyler listen, I just–”

“Do you really think disappearing on me was a fair thing to do?” he interrupts. “I’m your best friend.”

Your jaw drops at the audacity. Not surprising, really; Tyler’s always had a way of wording things that gets under people’s skin, but out of the two of you, he is the last person who should be doling out the criticism.

“Fair?” you huff. “You’re the one who–”

“I mean, what was so wrong with it?” Long fingers slide through his blond hair. “Can you honestly say you’ve never thought about me in that way? It hasn’t crossed your mind once? No sex dreams? Nothin’? ‘Cause I’ve been wrestlin’ with it since fuckin’ high school, but ok, sure, fine.”

“Ty–”

“And I know it was unexpected but was it really that shocking? Don’t you think we’d be good together? I think we’d–”

“For fuck’s sake, Tyler, will you let me talk!” you snap, your voice carrying throughout the barn.

If you were trying to preserve your privacy, you’ve definitely failed now. Half of town probably heard you and they’re nothing short of a mile away, but at this point, Tyler has pushed you well past caring. Let them hear. Let them know what’s going on between you. They all saw him kiss you anyway.

“We nearly died,” you continue. “People around us did die.”

Tyler’s face breaks down and you instantly regret your words. You know he stuck around after you left. You know he helped everyone he could in the aftermath of disaster while you let your emotions override your system and ran home to cry to your mother over how he just rocked what was your very steady relationship.

“Look,” you sigh. “Even if I wasn’t thinking about death—and that is a massive ‘if’—I told myself a long time ago that you are my friend, just my friend.”

Tyler’s hands settle on his hips. His eyes fall to the floor and his back teeth clench. “Why?”

“Because I repeated it so many times in my head that it solidified,” you tell him, throwing your arms up. “You know why Bradley dumped me last year? And Pete a couple years before that? And Bobby back in high school?” you ask. “Because of you. They all sensed this weird…energy…from you. All of them. Do you know how many times I had to tell them they were crazy? Do you know how many times I had to tell myself that I was crazy whenever they brought it up to me and I actually considered the possibility of you feeling that way?”

You know exactly how many. Bobby had mentioned it five times before he decided he was done; broke it off with you right before prom and scoffed when he saw that Tyler had stepped up as your date. Pete was shorter-lived; asked you about Tyler three times before he said he could see which way the wind was blowing and had no interest in getting in between anything. And Bradley held the record at seven, each time making the fight outdo the one prior before he was simply fed up with the friendship you refused to sacrifice. Three boyfriends have ditched you solely because of Tyler, and fifteen times you had to talk yourself down from the jolt of excitement you got from imagining him loving you.

Taking a deep breath, you say, “You don’t just get to kiss me and not let me sort out my thoughts for five damn seconds.”

Tyler’s head snaps up, jaw ticking and eyes blazing. “Five seconds?” he spits. “I haven’t seen you in a week. That’s the longest we’ve gone since I graduated.”

“This isn’t just about you; how you feel; what you think; what you want.”

“Then what are you tellin’ me?” Tyler asks.

The light quiver in his voice unnerves you. Not because you aren’t used to him expressing himself to the fullest—and if he’s ever going to be vulnerable with anyone, it’s with you—but that quiver is typically the trigger for you comforting him, taking him into your arms and holding him, letting him wrap himself around you until he feels better and is ready to stop. For some reason, you never noticed how long he would stay tied to you when you gave him the chance.

“Are you feelin’ like this is it?” he continues. “Are you wantin’ us to be done?”

And suddenly, you’re irritated again. You can’t stop the roll of your eyes. In no universe would you ever be done with Tyler Owens, and the fact that he would entertain otherwise is asinine. “Don't be dramatic.”

“Well, what do you expect!” he shouts. “You’re actin’ like I’m about to lose you!”

“I didn’t say anything like that!”

“But you're mad that I kissed you!”

“Damn it, Tyler! I am not!”

Green eyes widen, his breaths heavy from his heaving chest. His mouth opens then closes then opens once more. “You’re—” He licks his lips as you watch him grasp for words. “Then why haven't you called me back?”

You shrug. “I don't know. We've never fought before, and I thought you'd be pissed that I walked off, which clearly you are, so…”

“That’s not true,” he says, moving to take a step closer to you before thinking better of it and staying put. “I haven’t been pissed, darlin’, just terrified. And missing you. And…wanting you.” Heat flares your cheeks, forcing you to tear your eyes away from the desperation in his. “But I’m sorry. I wasn’t tryin’ to…I mean, you left and I thought…”

You shake your head. Whatever he let himself think, he was wrong.

The silence that settles over you is thicker than you're used to in his presence. You're used to laughter and jokes, sweet comments and banter. Tension zings in the space between your bodies, but it's pleasant, electrifying, invigorating. You feel the full impact of everything that was tucked underneath the stress and anxiety of barrelling through such a hard conversation.

Tyler feels it too. His face shows it. His eyes you can only describe as heatedly glittering as he stares at you staring at him. His brows are pinched from frustration of a different kind. It's his lips, though, that reveal his thoughts better than any other feature. They're softly parted, glistening from a swipe of his tongue like he's ready to lock them to yours at any second. Like he needs to be ready just in case you give him the go-ahead so he can kiss you before you dare rescind your permission.

“What are you thinking?” you ask, words quieter than you meant for them to be, but Tyler hears you.

His chuckle is short, half-formed, partially overtaken by the exhale of a breath. You detect a slight tease, as if you should already know the answer to that question.

“That I wanna kiss you again,” he says. “So fuckin’ bad.”

The corners of your mouth struggle not to quirk upward. “Tyler.” He hums. “You know what it means if we do this, right?”

He nods. “We can’t go back,” he says. “But darlin’, I don’t wanna go back. I wanna keep on goin’...with you.”

“Everything will be different.”

“Not everything. We're still us, we'd just be kissin’ and touchin’ and, you know, doin’ other stuff,” he replies with a smile. “Hopefully.”

You picture Tyler standing before you as you have secretly wished you could have him for years—bare and muscled and grinning and telling you he loves you—and for the first time, you aren’t awash with guilt and shame. It feels right to think of him like this. Natural. There’s a soothing ocean of serenity flowing under the flames of desire, and it hits you that this was probably inevitable. All the pieces were there—friendship, trust, love—all there was left to do was act on it.

“You won't change your mind?” you ask, stepping to him.

At your question, distress takes over Tyler's face, but it melts into a grin once he notices your smirk. He closes the remaining distance between you and takes your hand, carefully interlocking your fingers.

“No chance,” he tells you.

“Ok,” you say, nodding. “Well, if you’re absolutely sure, then I guess it’s ok if you kiss me agai–”

Your chuckle is muffled against his lips. His fingers untangle from yours and he guides your hand to rest on the back of his neck so he can cup your cheek. His free arm coils around your waist, pulling you in closer, and your body melts into his. Your brain fuzzes. You lose all awareness of your surroundings. You think you might just stay like this forever.

----

Tag List (if you wanna join)

#tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #twisters #glen powell #tyler owens fic #glen powell fic

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sooniebby · 2 months ago

Text

ఌ 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑

W.C › 12k

Warnings › bottom male reader. Reader is a bit immature. If you wanted an example of the bands music: Love Countdown vs Black Rose. Translations at the end. Some homophobia with a slur but very light. Unhinged OC, he’s crazy

Plot › This post I had but expanded.

Kinks › size difference, pain, possessive, lite spanking, toxic, dacryphilia, dubcon

Words to know › maknae (막내) — youngest. Hyung (형) — a term a younger male with call an older male. Jagiya/Jagi (자기야) — “sweetie/baby.” Seonbae (선배) — title of respect for someone in a higher position of you, usually work/school. Dongsaeng (동생) — little brother/sister, doesn’t have to be a biological sibling/can be a friend.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

안녕하세요, 러브카운다운입니다!

박도현

Leader, 1997, Bassist, main vocalist

신원식

1998, Guitarist, lead vocalist

유키

1999, Drummer

양준호

2000, keyboardist, lead vocalist

이영재

2002, guitarist, sub vocalist

초 (Name)

Maknae, (B.Year), guitarist, violinist, main vocalist

Festival performance this Friday at Yellow Wood University, 8 PM KST

A giddy grin spread on your lips as you looked at the social media post your company posted not even an hour ago. There were mainly positive comments, everyone excited to see you all live after listening to the debut album.

You debuted into Love Countdown just five months and your band was already getting love most bands would kill for.

Your music was certainly good but it did help most of your band mates were practically model material. Any type of fans were fine with you, even if all they cared about was one of your band mates abs.

The sound of the front door opening caught your attention as you exited out of Twitter and looked up. As with most groups, you lived in an apartment with your band mates. Lucky for you, your company wasn’t inhumane and forced six men to group in one small apartment.

You roomed with Junho and Young-Jae. While Dohyun, Yuki, and Won-Shik roomed together right next door.

“Hey, Hyung. You bought any dinner?” You asked, watching as Young-Jae only had to walk two steps to get into the kitchen. Hey, your company wasn’t that rich.

“Just pizza because I’m not buying your picky ass anything else ever again.” He said, placing it on the kitchen countertop. “Can’t believe you didn’t even attempt to eat the expensive Italian food I bought last time.”

“No one told you to buy me Italian food.” You rebutted, walking over to grab a slice.

“Ungrateful brat.”

“Love you too, Hyung.”

You grabbed two pizzas slices as Young-Jae put away the groceries he bought.

“Hey, is your violin tuned? Dohyun Hyung was on my ass because of what happened last time.”

Last time meaning you pulled out your violin to play a song from your album and it sounded like absolute shit. You were lucky the crowd found it cute and were just laughing as you hurriedly tried to tune the violin. The perks of being the cute maknae!

“Of course, I wouldn’t want Dohyun Hyung to spank you again.”

“He did not spank me, stop being weird.” Young-Jae rolled his eyes, reaching over to deliver a smack to the back your head. You cried out in pain as you glared at him.

“Do you know who else is playing at the festival? I didn’t pay attention when Manager Nayoung was talking.”

“Of course you didn’t. Mostly solo artists. I think a rock band is playing there… can’t remember their name. Starts… like uh…” Young-Jae sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Le..? No… Uh. Damn. It was something edgy.”

“Edgy?”

“Yeah. Their music is all rock and emo. The made the OST to that crime kdrama you watched. Seriously… their name isn’t long, why can’t I remember?”

“You’re getting old.”

Young-Jae looked up at you, his eyes narrowing. “Say that again?”

“What?”

“(Name)….”

“Hyung…”

You both stared at each other as a slight smirk pulled on your lips.

“You fucking……!”

“I’m home.”

The door opened just before Young-Jae could attack you. You shrieked and immediately ran to your savior, clinging to Junho. Junho was unfazed as he wrapped his free arm around your waist and tugged you close, closing the door with his foot.

“Pizza for dinner? Thanks.” Junho said, placing his bags down on the kitchen counter.

“Stop protecting that little shit, Hyung. I need to give him a spanking.” Young-Jae glared at you with a murderous intent in his eyes.

You giggled. “Oh~ so kinky Hyungie~! Should I pull my pants down?”

“You…!!!”

Junho maneuvered you away just as Young-Jae made an attempt to grab you. You wrapped your arm around Junho’s neck and grinned, sticking your tongue out at Young-Jae as a sign of victory.

“Hm, Junnie Hyung, do you know that emo band that’s playing at the festival this Friday?” You asked, looking up at Junho.

“Hm. Black Rose?”

Black Rose? Hm… Why did that sound familiar?

You were about to think more until your stomach growled.

Forget it. It’s probably nothing important anyway.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Looking good boys. Your first ever festival performance. Let’s do great okay?! Fighting!” Manager Nayoung said as she patted you on the back.

You gave her a smile as you glanced at yourself in the mirror. There were hearts drawn over your nose, almost like freckles. Being the maknae meant you usually got the more cutesy makeup compared to the others.

Dohyun was always… more naked compared to everyone else. You glanced over at your leader and couldn’t help but stare at his ass. He was wearing a crop top with no sleeves, a waist chain and sinfully tight leather pants. You were almost jealous of his abs but also wanted to touch them again.

Your eyes flickered over to Young-Jae and you almost laughed to see him unabashedly staring right at Dohyun’s ass. You sauntered over to him and smacked his head.

“Hey, are you trying to burn a hole through his pants?” You whispered, snickering as Young-Jae’s face practically turned red.

“Shut it!” He weakly retorted, turning his attention to the mirror to fix his dyed red hair. “I was just looking at his outfit. The stylists love putting him tight clothing. What if he’s uncomfortable?”

You hummed. “Dohyun Hyung!”

“Hey—!”

“Yes,” Dohyun looked up from the book he was reading, smiling over at you. He had red lipstick with dark eyeliner that brought out the blue colored contacts he wore. He’s lucky he’s handsome, blue contacts just freak you out.

“Are you uncomfortable in your pants?”

“Hm, no? I won’t be moving much anyway.” He answered. “Why?”

“Just asking!”

You turned back around to see a furious Young-Jae staring at you. You only giggled. “See? He’s fine. You’re just enjoying his ass.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, Hyungie~!”

A tap on your shoulder caught your attention as you turned back to see Yuki behind you. He was wearing a more tamed version of Dohyun’s outfit with lighter makeup. “Some snacks I stole from the staff table.” He handed you a chocolate bar, a bag of chips, and a soda.

“What about me?” Young-Jae asked.

“What about you? Love you, (Name).” Yuki patted you on the head before walking away to join Junho on the couch. Favoritism. You loved being the maknae.

You smirked. “Maybe try being cuter. Then your hyungs will want to take care of you.”

“I’m going to smother you in your sleep.”

“Kinky~!”

Young-Jae rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the mirror, fixing his collar. “I’m not even sure why we’re dressed like this. Our concept isn’t this dark.”

“It’s just for the event. Manager Nayoung was telling me that the event organizers wanted a darker theme.”

“Our songs are literally all about being in love and being happy. We have no emo or rock songs.”

“Stop complaining. At least they still wanted us. We’re first for a reason. We just need to get everyone upbeat.”

You glanced over at Young-Jae, taking in his outfit. It was similar to yours. A white lace shirt with black detailing. Basic black slacks with combat boots. Except he had a choker while you had a necklace. The hearts across your nose were red, brightening your face in comparison to the dark eyeliner.

Won-Shik and Junho had similar outfits as well, an inverse of yours and Young-Jae. You preferred the more colorful clothing you wore during your regular performances but it is what it is. As you flicked at a lint on your cheek, the door to the dressing room opened.

“You’re going to preform in twenty minutes, boys. Get going!”

As your band mates got ready to set up their instruments, you saw the next band come in to get dressed. And to your horror, a familiar face walked right in.

Kim Ye-Jun.

You felt your heart drop to your ass as you stared at him. He didn’t seem to notice you at first, busy directing his band mates to get dressed. It wasn’t until he turned around that he froze at the sight of you.

“Let’s go, (Name)-Ah.” Young-Jae said, grabbing your arm as he began to pull you out of the room. Your gaze was still locked on Ye-Jun before you quickly turned away, the memories of him flooding your brain.

That fucking dick. He’s in that band?!

Shit. You wanted to delete their OST off your playlist stat. Why were they even playing at such a small event, they weren’t mainstream by any means but they were big in the band scene.

“Violin tuned?” Dohyun suddenly asked as you assumed your position, fixing the mic to your height.

“Yea. It’s tuned…”

“You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”

You wished he was a ghost.

“I’ll be fine. Just a little nervous.”

Dohyun took your word for it and simply patted you on the back, turning his attention back to his own mic. It only took a few minutes before the MC was announcing the band and the yells from the crowd increased.

You stood tall, clutching the guitar to your chest just as the lights shined on you all. Dohyun began his usual speech while you couldn’t help but smile at attention. A few girls were screaming your name!

Yuki tapped his drumsticks together before starting off the beat. You were only going to be performing five songs so you weren’t worried in the slightest. Of course you forgot you were the one that started this song off.

Despite the slight hiccup and Dohyun’s swift glare at you, you continued on, earning a few giggles from the crowd. As you played, you didn’t notice the pair of eyes watching you from the side of the stage.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“You were great, boys! I think you gained some new fans,” Nayoung said, handing each of you a bottle water. “Go get changed and enjoy the rest of the festival! Do anything to get fans.”

Won-Shik smirked as he wrapped his arm around your neck, “anything?” You grinned, rolling your eyes.

“Absolute not! Get your mind out of the gutter!” Nayoung yelled, glaring at Won-Shik. “Yuki, watch him! I don’t want a scandal before you’re even a year old yet! Matter of fact, stick with one other person.”

Young-Jae groaned. “Guess I’m stuck with you,” he said, glaring at you.

You smirked before glancing over at Dohyun as he began wiping off his makeup. “Well… Dohyun Hyung!”

“What do you—!”

“—Can you pair with Jae Hyung? I wanna hang out with Junnie Hyung!”

“You little—!!!”

“—Sure. You okay with spending time with me Jae-Ah? I don’t think I’ll be much fun.” Dohyun laughed, turning over to face you and Young-Jae. His makeup was smudge now—lipstick off completely. His eyes resembling deer eyes by how round they were. Boba eyes, that’s what Won-Shik called them once.

Because of how perverted you were, you couldn’t help but imagine if that’s how he would look after having sex.

A quick glance at Young-Jae told you he was thinking the same thing.

“C..Course, Hyung!! You’re great, amazing even! I mean… you’re great to hang out with… Yeah… I’ll go change.” Young-Jae grabbed his duffle bag and quickly sprinted to the bathroom.

“What’s with him?”

You shrugged, “Dunno. Maybe he has diarrhea.”

“Oh no… I’ll get him some tea.” Dohyun said, taking you seriously. Before you could even tell him it was a joke he already left the dressing room. You sighed and rubbed the bridge of your nose. He was so weirdly naive sometimes.

A tap on your shoulder caught your attention as you looked over to see Junho smiling at you. “You gonna change or go out like that?” He was already changed—dressed in a black t-shirt with washed out jeans. His styled hair purposely brushed out, now just a brown mop on his head.

“No, I’ll change. Wait for me, Hyungie!” You blew him a kiss that he quickly caught, laughing.

You and Junho seamlessly blended into the crowd of college students as a the next band began to play. Black Rose had already played while you were getting undressed so you ended up missing it.

You tried to ignore the odd feeling in your stomach at the disappointment you weren’t fast enough. But you didn’t care! You didn’t…

Certainly not.

“Shots?” Junho suddenly asked, leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder. You hummed in agreement. He left and was quick to come back with two shots. About an hour passed on you just listening to each act perform before the DJ came out and everyone started dancing.

The cool October breeze made you shiver as you felt Junho wrap his arms around you. You grinned and turned around to press your chest against him. Junho was not only taller than you but muscular in comparison—having worked out religiously with Dohyun and Won-Shik.

He was warm so you eagerly pressed as close as possible against him, burying your face in his chest. Junho simply swayed to the upbeat noise music. If the music wasn’t there, people would’ve assumed you both were slow dancing to a ballad.

“Feed me a shot?” You suddenly asked, tilting your head back.

“What are you, a baby?”

“Yup, your baby.”

Junho simply hummed as he used his free hand to grab your face, keeping it still as he slowly tipped the plastic cup’s rim against your lips. You squeezed at his shirt as the cool liquid rushed down your throat, causing you the cough once you swallowed.

“Wow… again!” You laughed, ignoring the judgmental look Junho gave you.

“You’re so weird, (Name)-Ah. I’ll be back, stay right here.” His hand trailed down your waist before he pulled away, poking you on the cheek as he walked away. You hummed and swayed slightly, feeling a bit buzzed from the amount of shots you took by now.

You subconsciously began to whisper the lyrics to one of your songs when a hand wrapped itself around your wrist. The words couldn’t even leave your mouth before you’re tugged away from the crowd. You whined and was about to scream when one of the street lamps illuminated your attacker.

Kim Ye-Jun.

A groan left your lips, no longer feeling the need to put up a fight. At least it’s not a saesang.

Ye-Jun dragged you all the way back go where the dressing room was. You assumed he was going to drag you in there but he suddenly took a sharp left turn and pulled open the storage closet, shoving you inside. A gasp left your lips as you bumped into the wall, groaning in pain.

Your eyes felt heavy, especially with the bright ceiling light shining down on you. “Seriously..? I was about to get another shot!”

He didn’t say anything, his eyes narrowing at you.

You bristled, standing up straight. “What?! I’m of legal age, dick. Anyway, I need to go back before my friends start worrying about me.” You moved to push past him but he grabbed your shoulder and slammed you right back against the wall.

The force knocked you sober as you stared at Ye-Jun in shock. “What.. What the fuck is your problem?!”

“I thought you wanted to be an Idol.” Ye-Jun suddenly said.

You tilted your head. “Wha..? The company thought I fit the band aesthetic better. Besides, I can’t dance well anyway. Why do you even care? You could’ve asked me this in front of everyone else..”

Ye-Jun stared at you for a moment, as if he was thinking about what to say. You took the moment to really take him in. He was taller than you, his buzz cut had grown out from university, though still short and spiky. A worn out leather jacket with a wife beater. Leather pants that hugged his thighs. Wow, he was working out.

You shook your head. Nope, you weren’t about to fall back into his arms. “Well, if you’re just gonna stare at me, you can follow our band’s instagram. I post on there. It’s TheRealLoveCountdown.”

A bitter laugh left Ye-Jun just as you were about to push him. You wanted to ask what’s his problem was when he surged forward and slammed his lips against yours. A strangled gasp left you and your hands quickly moved to push him away. But he was stronger, grabbing your wrists as he slammed them against the wall.

He kissed you hungrily, pressing his crotch against yours. You couldn’t help the soft moans that left your throat as he bit your lip. The pain sent a shockwave through your spine. His hands released your wrists and shoved themselves into your jeans.

“Kim Ye-Jun!” You managed to stutter out as you pulled away from the kiss. He paid you no mind, grabbing a fist full of your ass. An embarrassing whine left your lips as finger teased your hole.

“Why are you speaking respectfully?”

“Aren’t you my seonbae now? You debuted first.”

Ye-Jun looked down at you, his grip tightening on your ass. “Seonbae? I told you to call me Hyung.”

“You lost that privilege, Seonbae. We aren’t friends.”

“Mhm,” Ye-Jun hummed. “Yeah, you weren’t ever a friend. You’re mine.”

You shivered and felt your hips buck against his, your bulge rubbing against his own. Ye-Jun smirked as he pulled you, hands gripping your waist, as he turned you around. A grunt left you as you’re pushed against the wall.

The feeling of cool air touches your lower half before you can even complain. He pulled your fucking pants down. You gasped as he pried your ass open and you felt a puff of air tease your hole.

“You… Yah, what the hell do you think you’re doing, bastard?!”

The air stilled in the closet as your lips pressed into a tight thin line. Oh god. You really said that.

“Sae…kki…ya?” Ye-Jun whispered, his grip loosening on your skin. You were grateful that your back was facing him so you couldn’t see the face he must be making.

Young-Jae was right. You really needed to work on having a filter.

“I’m a son of a bitch? I’ll fucking show you a son of a bitch, Cho (Name).”

It was silent for a moment—you almost believed Ye-Jun was getting ready to leave when you felt two fingers shove themselves inside your hole. The fingers were slick so it wasn’t in there dry but the intrusions felt like it was the worst thing you could ever experience.

Ye-Jun waited for a moment before slowing flexing his index and pointer finger inside. You grunted and gripped at the wall for some type of purpose. What the hell was he looking for?

A guttural scream left your throat as his fingers rub against your prostate. You whimpered, rubbing your thighs together as you looked behind to try and get a look at Ye-Jun.

His head was down so you could only see his hair. He patted your ass before leaning forward and pressing his lips against your right ass cheek. It felt oddly sweet—it almost made you short circuit.

Until you felt teeth sinking into your skin.

“Fuck!” You cried out, pressing your head against the wall as his fingers began to repeatedly press against your prostate. His teeth felt sharp on your skin as if he was biting to break skin.

Ye-Jun didn’t allow you to breathe or take in the pleasure, pumping his fingers to attack and abuse your prostate. He moved to your left ass cheek and left a matching bite mark—you were sure that one broke skin.

You weren’t even sure how long it had been. Your legs were shaky as you had to use your hands to keep yourself help. The leaking from your dejectedly cock made you whimper at being unable to bring yourself to true pleasure.

There were bite marks not just on your ass but on your thighs. You had weakly tried to keep him off but he easily stopped you with a painfully slow rub against your prostate that sent you into a frenzy.

It was building—the tell tale sign of you reaching your peak. Your toes curled as you hiccuped. You didn’t even notice you were crying.

Just as you felt the orgasm coming to its peak… Ye-Jun pulled away.

You whined, looking back at him in shock as he wiped his fingers on your t-shirt. He looked unbothered as he fixed his clothes. His eyes flickered over to you when you made another pathetic whine to get his attention. It almost hurt to talk. He only smirked.

“You can take care of the rest, right?” He asked, his lips moving into a slight snarl as his eyes narrowed. “Or maybe call that band mate of yours. You were practically on his dick earlier.”

Your eyes widen as you watched him leave, slamming the door shut behind him. You slid down the wall and could only just sit there in pure shock.

The dryness of your throat was beginning to affect you as you reached down to pull your boxers up.

You just wanted to go home.

❝ 목이 메어 ❞

It had been two weeks since the “incident” and you had made a clear effort to never listen to Black Rose. You blocked them everywhere—going as far as to block them on your other members phones as well.

Yuki and Won-Shik didn’t seem to care that much.

Young-Jae called you insane.

While Junho and Dohyun were the only two that seemed worried about your behavior.

Which led to now. You were curled up on Dohyun’s bed as he sat at his desk, working on some lyrics for your comeback that was four months away. He always liked getting ahead in work. The band wouldn’t start recording until December. It was only November 3rd.

The lyrics were technically done and approved by the company but Dohyun was always a perfectionist so everyone had let him be at this point.

Junho was beside you on the bed, occasionally giving Dohyun some of his opinions on the lyrics.

This album was going to be more ballad heavy. Focusing solely on heartbreak and toxic relationships. You almost scoffed to yourself.

You had so many lyrics you wanted to put but knew they would end up being too personal so you kept them in your journal for safe keeping.

“Oh, we’re trending on Twitter…” Junho suddenly said, earning both yours and Dohyun’s attention.

“What? What did we do?” Dohyun questioned, quickly moving to sit on the bed. You sat up and curled close to Junho, worried that someone on a random forum made an insane rumor that the Korean netizens would eat up in a heartbeat.

“Oh, it’s mainly (Name)-Ah and that guy from Black Rose.”

Your heart dropped to your ass. “W..Why?!”

Junho glanced down at you curiously before showing you a Twitter post that had almost 20k likes. He soon clicked on the link of the forum posts that was talking about it.

@_Dohyungotafatty (↑4599 ↓235)

↳ guys, have yall seen who’s been liking (Name)’s posts on Instagram??

Below the text was a collage of your Instagram posts on the band’s account. You and Yuki were the only ones that really posted selfies religiously. But it wasn’t the pictures that caught people’s attention.

No it was the fact that the account that seemed to like every single one of your selfies was no other than fucking Kim Ye-Jun.

You balked. You didn’t think he had a public Instagram account that didn’t belong to the company. Fuck, you should’ve checked!!! Of course an older group had more freedom than your own.

You couldn’t even try to assume it was someone else. The next reply to the post was someone clicking on the account and lo and behold, Ye-Jun’s face showed up in the accounts posts.

They even showed that the official band account was following him—as well as his other band members.

Yeah… that was him.

@BRkim_yejun — 589k followers, 6 following

The video checked his following and he was even following the band’s account. You groaned, rubbing the bridge of your nose in annoyance.

“He likes Yuki’s posts too right..? It’s not just me!” You muttered, scrolling to see the other accounts.

@junhoswhore (↑239 ↓26)

↳ if (Name) was a girl, netizens would’ve started a dating rumor ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@jaesflatass (↑102 ↓34)

↳ he doesn’t even likes Yuki’s posts. He wants him so bad ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@yukiwukii (↑20 ↓2)

↳ aren’t they alumnis from the same university??

@lovewonshiik (↑1020 ↓125)

↳ girl they’re college dropouts ㅋㅋㅋ

@_loveandfear (↑409 ↓89)

↳ Ye-Jun doesn’t even like his own members posts. He must really like Cho (Name). I wanna see them interact!!

@freakfundashi (↑2987 ↓3082)

↳ I wanna see them fuck on stage

“Okay that’s enough.” Dohyun suddenly said, grabbing Junho phone as he exited out of the forum. “You shouldn’t pay attention to them. They’re just weirdos. What does ‘Dohyun got a fatty’ even mean?”

Junho glanced over at you. You both tried to hold in your laughter.

“I’m not sure, Hyung. I can ask around.”

Dohyun shook his head. “I don’t think I even want to know. Anyway, do you know Kim Ye-Jun, (Name)-Ah? He seems to know you.”

“Yeah, why would you block the Black Rose account if you know him? You aren’t friends?”

You blushed slightly as you tried to come up with an excuse. “We.. we did go to the same college but I dropped out to pursue music. I lost contact with him after that! I wouldn’t even say we were friends.. we were just both music majors!”

Junho and Dohyun didn’t seem too convinced but they got the message that this was all you were going to tell them at the moment.

“If you do feel uncomfortable around him, I can block him, y’know? I want my maknae to be comfortable.” Junho said, leaning over to caress your cheek. You leaned into his touch and hummed in appreciation.

Ye-Jun’s words suddenly got to you. The hyung he was talking about had to be Junho. But you don’t remember ever being on his “dick.” You didn’t like Junho romantically. Besides, you were pretty sure him and Yuki had something going on despite their attempts of being discrete.

Won-Shik seemed to be the resident straight man of the band.

“Manager Nayoung can always speak to Black Rose’s manager and make them get Ye-Jun to back off as well. Just tell us, alright?” Dohyun said, rubbing your head.

You gave him a grin that wasn’t forced and cuddled closer to Junho’s touch. Ye-Jun would probably back off sooner or later. It wasn’t like you would have to see him again any time soon.

Oh how wrong you were.

❝ 매달려 봤는데 상처 발더러고 ❞

The memory is hazy by now, but you still remember the exact date, time, and weather when you first met Kim Ye-Jun.

November 3rd, 20XX. 5:30 pm. Heavy rain and scattered thunderstorms.

You had just came from school, wanting to just plop down on bed and cry. Your future uncertain with your parents refusal to allow you to try out at a company to pursue your dreams on being a musician.

Your umbrella was big, a bit hard to hold upright because of how old it was. There was a hole in it that allowed small drops of rain to drip on your shoulder. You couldn’t even afford to pay for a new one. The wind suddenly picked up just as you were getting to cross the street.

“Shit…!” Your grip loosened as the wind folded your umbrella upwards. It slipped from your grip and twirled across the crosswalk. You made the step to run after it until a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you right back onto the curb.

A car breezed past you, splashing water over you and your savior. You coughed as the savior pressed you against their chest. They were saying something but it wasn’t hard to hear anything in the heavy rain.

You looked up, pushing away the wet hair that clung to your face. There he was: Kim Ye-Jun. A shaved head while dressed in a Korean military uniform. He looked young but you knew lots of boys your age that were going to do their Korean service before college to get it over with.

The first meeting hardly meant anything to Kim Ye-Jun while it meant everything to you. He released his grip on your waist and bent down to grab your backpack, handing it over to you.

Before you could even say anything else, he handed over his umbrella. You tried to refuse but he forced your hand open and wrapped it around the handle. You watched with wide eyes as he reached up and wiped something off your face before pulling away.

You were so happy that the rain hid the fact you were crying just a few minutes earlier. But judging by the soft smile he gave you, your red eyes must’ve given it away.

Your eyes flickered to his name tag just as he was leaving, sprinting away to what you assumed was the nearby convenience store.

❝ 김예준 ❞

You would see him again at your college welcoming party. He was also a freshman just like you despite being twenty years old. A few freshman teased him about it while he just laughed it off, saying they’re gonna wish they got their service over with.

You didn’t originally want to seek him out, worried he wouldn’t even remember you. But he ended up speaking to you first. Those first nine months you spent with him almost felt like a dream.

He wasn’t your first kiss but he was your first boyfriend, your first time, the first boy you believed you could spend a lifetime with.

But it seemed you were the only one who thought that.

“Cho (Name)? Is he your boyfriend or something? He’s so clingy with you.”

“I don’t know how you do it! He acts so childish, it’s gross. Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you need to act like a fag. I’m gay and I act fucking normal.”

“Does he even know about the band you got accepted in? Whenever I see you guys interact, it’s literally all about him! He hardly lets you speak.”

You expected Ye-Jun to say something in your defense.

“Yeah… He’s clingy. I didn’t expect him to be when we started hanging out.”

“—Hanging out? You’re not even dating him? You’re fuck buddies?”

“Well it’s only been nine months. We’ve only been fucking. He just whines a lot about his parents before I can even talk. The only way he stops is when we fuck.”

“Really? Why do you even keep him around?”

“Nine months is a long time, haha. It has to be sex, right??”

“He makes me feel good about myself. Plus he is cute despite how annoying he can be—”

“—How is he in bed? Whiny? Bet he’s a slut—”

You couldn’t take it anymore, walking away from the wall as you rubbed at your face. Fuck buddies. You were Kim Ye-Jun’s fuck buddy.

A bitter laugh left you as you pulled your phone, opening website you were on earlier. It was auditions for a new company. If Ye-Jun thought all you did was complain, you would show him you have drive.

You blocked his number and signed up for the audition, dropping out of school the next week. Your parents disowned you but you pushed through, staying at your aunt’s before you got the acceptance call.

It’s just a shame you had to see him again after four years.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

‘ COMEBACK ’ 러브카운다운 - Love’s Fool

After an intense music video recording, it was released three hours ago. It was your groups first comeback so to say you were nervous was an understatement. The music video was different from the debut’s sunshine and happy vibes from the single debut album.

This 1st mini album, named after the title track, was darker and certainly more depressing. Though it seemed the fans were eating it up. A few even saying they cried to the song.

You straightened your back as the hair stylist pulled at your hair. It was the first performance at a music show. Online so many fans were staying they were going to get the band its first music show win so you couldn’t help but feel giddy at the thought.

Switching the phone onto the camera, you held it up and smiled, taking a few pictures. You immediately posted them onto Instagram, choosing the ones where you looked the cutest. It was only a second before the first like came in.

@BRkim_yejun liked your post

You almost threw your phone. But that wasn’t the worst. He actually commented. In the past three months that’s he’s been religiously liking your posts, and only yours, he’s never commented on it.

@BRkim_yejun commented : 귀여워, 자기야… 셀키 더 찍어 주세요… 뽀뽀하고 싶어요 ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Kiss?? You almost passed out as you reread his comment over and over again. You couldn’t believe he was asking for more selfies! You’re just happy he didn’t use “키스” as that would’ve been too romantic. But the nerve to call you jagiya was pissing you off. You haven’t been his baby in few years now!

@TheRealLoveCountdown responded : 꺼져

Sure, it’s petty to tell him to go away but you weren’t feeling generous to be nice right now. You turned off your phone and placed it on the table in front of you. The hair stylist had finally finished your hair as she walked away. Dohyun came up to you, smiling slightly.

“(Name)-Ah, you okay? That’s the first time he commented on your post right?”

“Yeah… But it’s fine, I told him to go away. Maybe he’ll listen.”

Dohyun only chuckled in response. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around you as he rubbed his cheek against yours. You giggled and basked in his warmth, sighing in relief.

But you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering about how Ye-Jun used to hug you just like this. Especially when you were slaving away on your assignments and he wanted you to take a break.

He’d press kisses on your neck before your cheek, inching close to your lips before pressing a wet slobbery kiss on your lips. Because that would always disgust you and make you chase after him to deliver another wet slobbery dog kiss on his cheeks.

Then he’d always hug you close on the couch and force you to watch tv. He’d always get you. And you’d always fall asleep in his arms.

“Are you method acting again? No one’s expecting us to cry on stage, dumbass.”

You flinched as a napkin taps at the edge of your eyes. You glanced over to see Young-Jae gently dapping the tears away before they have the chance to fall and ruin your makeup. Dohyun just tightens his hug and comfortingly rubbed your shoulders before pulling away.

“Thanks, Hyungie~!” You grinned, moving to pull Young-Jae into a hug that he swiftly dodged.

“You’re not messing up my outfit! Stay back!”

“Hyung… I want to hug you!!! Come here!!”

“Stay back, Cho (Name)!!!”

The performance was great if you had to toot your own horn. This was one of the first songs that you played the violin for entirely—the other time it was sort of a gimmick. You even had a violin solo with Junho’s keyboard.

Now it was wining down time. You took another selfie, even one with Won-Shik and Young-Jae. Young-Jae practically never posted so you usually forced him to join your selfies for his starving fans.

You tried to ignore the weird feeling in your heart when Ye-Jun didn’t immediately like your post. You didn’t care! Nope… You did not.

But you didn’t stop yourself as you typed in the Black Rose Instagram to check the account. You had unblocked a month ago at the request of Nayoung since it looked weird on your part when there’s no history between you and the band.

There wasn’t much pictures beside promotional material. Photos for their comeback. It was only five members, Ye-Jun as the leader but he wasn’t the oldest. You wondered if this was the band he was talking about back then.

@TheBlackRose

(블랙로즈) 4.9M Followers 6 Following

Six following? You clicked on it and sat up straight on the couch to see that the account was following Love Countdown! Though the fact they were so close to five million followers shocked you. They really were popular. Love Countdown only reached 320k followers just recently.

Did Ye-Jun make the account follow you? You tried to push away the giddy feeling in your chest. Deciding you had nothing to lose, you checked the band members account.

@BRpark_shion

(박시온) 518k Followers 5 following

@BRim_roha

(임로하) 538k followers 6 following

@BRseo_minji

(서민지) 515k followers 5 following

@BRhwang_hanbin

(황한빈) 529k followers 5 following

“Roha..?” You muttered, confused on why he was following the account as well.

“Who’s Roha?”

You jumped, looking up to see Yuki sitting down beside you. “Yuki Hyung! Ah.. I was just..”

“Snooping?” He chuckled, leaning over. “Im Roha? Oh, he’s cute.”

“Who’s cute?!” Junho suddenly asked, turning his head abruptly from his phone. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re cuter, Junnie.” Yuki placated, snickering. “Very Kawaii.”

“Oh! Yuki, can you still teach me Japanese? I want to be confident in my pronunciation for our Japanese debut!” You asked, subtly trying to change the conversation.

“Yea.” He said, pushing back his overgrown bangs. “But I still want to know what you’re doing. I thought you hated Black Rose.”

“I do! I really hate them…”

“Or do you hate Kim Ye-Jun? Did he do something to you?”

You frowned. The word hate next to Ye-Jun’s name made you upset. Despite everything, you couldn’t hate him. Fuck, you were pathetic.

“He just… We just ended things badly. But it’s mostly my own fault. I thought we were something special—he didn’t think the same.”

Yuki blinked for a moment as if he was taking in your words. “Oh. You dated him?”

“Wha?! How’d you?!”

“What else could you have meant?” Yuki chuckled. “Do you wanna stay at Hyung’s tonight? We can have a movie marathon.”

You grinned, nodding your head. “Mhm. I would like that.”

The door to the dressing room opened as the next group to preform came in. Dohyun and the others had already gotten ready to leave so they moved to the side so the group could get ready. Much to your shock, it was the Black Rose.

Your eyes stopped on Roha. He was tall, slim, with dyed purple hair. Your body flinched when his eyes fell on yours and a grin pulled on his lips as he waved to you.

Roha looked so familiar but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. Was he from your university? It’s been five years at this point. You shook your head, deciding it wasn’t important.

You grabbed your bag and stood up, looking over at Junho. The others were already leaving.

“Junnie Hyung—”

“—Yes?”

“—Yeah?”

Your body froze as a voice was heard behind you. Junho looked up confused at who else would answer to your call. You didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. Before Junho, you had called someone else “Junnie Hyung.”

Yeah, Kim Ye-Jun.

“You call him my name?” Ye-Jun suddenly said, walking right up in front of you. Your eyes quickly looked down. Embarrassment swirled in your stomach as you felt Junho’s and Ye-Jun’s eyes on you as they waited for you to speak.

You took a deep breath and managed to look up at him. “Yeah… he’s my hyung.. and his name is Junho. So, Junnie Hyung. You’re not the only man named Jun.”

Ye-Jun laughed, a smirk playing on his lips. “I don’t remember allowing you to do that. His name is Junho, yeah? So call him Junho Hyung.”

“Uhm,” Junho muttered, a look of confusion on his face. His brows furrowed as his lips pulled into a frown. “I don’t like how you’re speaking to my dongsaeng.”

“Dongsaeng?” Ye-Jun tilted his head before turning his attention back over to you. “Cute. That’s real cute. (Name)-Ah, my number hasn’t changed. I’ll be waiting, Jagiya.”

He gave a slight nod at Junho before walking away to join his members to get his hair and makeup down. Junho looked more confused than angry as he glanced over at you.

“Jagiya?”

You blushed. “He’s just.. teasing me! Yeah.. he didn’t mean it.”

A tap on your shoulder caught your attention. You looked over to see Roha grinning at you.

“(Name), my number is the same as well, okay? Talk to you later.” Roha lovingly patted your head before walking away.

Junho blinked. “Wow. I thought you didn’t know anyone in Black Rose.”

“Me neither…”

You were so fucking screwed.

Why was your heart beating so fast?

❝ 진지하진 않잖아 가벼운 간보기잖아 ❞

You unblocked him. Mainly because you had no back bone. You laid on Yuki’s bed, wondering if you should text first. Yuki had some Jpop song playing as he folded up his laundry. He had dumped it on his bed a few days ago but didn’t really do it until you were now gonna stay the night.

“Is it normal to still have feelings for your ex..? Oh well, ex fuck buddy.”

“Yeah. If you really loved him.” Yuki said, muttering something to himself in Japanese before putting away the last of his clothes. He turned off his music and sat down on the bed.

You frowned and sat up. “I’m so confused. He hurt me. He.. He said I complained too much. I was clingy… I didn’t let him speak in our relationship. Said I only shut up when he fucked me…”

“Maybe he was right. Maybe you weren’t the best boyfriend.”

“What?”

Yuki gave you a small smile. “Even if you weren’t, he should’ve talked to you. He should’ve told you instead of bad mouth you to your friends. And.. maybe you should’ve spoken to him about how you were feeling instead of just ghosting him.”

“I… Well he embarrassed me in front of his friends.”

“He was wrong for that. But how can a relationship work if you let one problem ruin it?”

You frowned. Yuki was making sense and you didn’t necessarily want that right now.

“You don’t have to get back with him. He did hurt you. Not everyone can forgive something like that. But how old were you when you dated him?”

“Eighteen…”

“First ever relationship?”

“Mhm…”

“Well, I hope in those five years you know that you can’t just go silent during a relationship problem. You had the right to cuss him out but to also see if you could fix the problem he was feeling.”

“Man… I was hoping you would’ve just let me complain. I didn’t want this philosophical shit.”

Yuki grinned. “You should’ve went to Won-Shik Hyung if you wanted to complain. Do you want to text him?”

You glanced over at your phone, sighing. “Maybe.. But he was acting really weird before we left. He got mad at Junho Hyung because I called him Junnie Hyung.”

Yuki smirked. “He’s just jealous. Then he really does still like you. Wah, you have yourself a possessive boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You whined, biting your lip.

“He probably doesn’t think that way. I’ll pick the movie while you text your honey.”

You glared at Yuki but still grabbed your phone, staring at the contact of Kim Ye-Jun. It still had a heart on the name. The name proudly written in as “주니형.” You exited out of his contact and went to look at the other blocked numbers you had. It was mostly spam until a familiar named showed up.

Im Suyoung.

Im…

A gasp left your lips. Suyoung was Ye-Jin’s friend, they were practically brothers. You had gotten close to Suyoung by association but soon felt as if he was the big brother you never had. There was a distant memory you had when he said he wanted to change his name to something cooler.

Roha.

Ah. You unblocked his number and saw the loads of messages that didn’t end up going through to you. It had stopped four years ago. But before, it was loads of them asking where you were, if you’re okay, if something had happened to you.

The last message made you laugh at how stupid it was.

↳ Ye-Jun’s worried. He’s going crazy over a nine month relationship, what did you do to him? ㅎㅎ He’s gonna find you one day, (Name)-Ah, be ready.

Find you? Be ready? What the hell was Ye-Jun gonna do to you? You were mainly shocked that he was even going crazy over you being gone. Why would he care when he himself said you were “hanging out?”

You sighed, sending a quick message to Roha to tell him he’s unblocked. Your fingers moved on their own and you found yourself on Ye-Jun’s contact. The profile picture was of him and you, faces pressed together as you grinned at the camera while Ye-Jun looked as if he was mid grimace, eyes squeezed shut from the flash.

You scrolled up to five years ago, to the day you had blocked him. It was tamed for a moment until Ye-Jun seemed to notice his texts weren’t going through.

It was panic after that. Multiple texts with spams if you’re dead, if you’re okay, that he’s freaking out. You couldn’t help but laugh. It felt surreal to see this side of him. After a few months, he only kept sending hello, as if checking everyday to see when you’d unblock him.

A few times he’d type a message. Asking if you ate, if you’re doing okay wherever you are. The next year, he started sending pictures. It was of him and the band. He was talking about how nervous he was being the leader.

Ye-Jun never took selfies, he hated pictures which was why most pictures of him he had a grimace or frown.

But the ones he was sending you, he smiled. Well, as best as he could. It looked forced but you still felt giddy that he was trying.

You scrolled through the messages until finding one on the day of the festival at the university.

↳ you didn’t move on, right? You wouldn’t move on, Jagiya… put cream on the bite marks, I don’t want you to scar. Don’t get so close to that bean pole with the fried hair again, okay? It made me upset ㅠㅠ

↳ you know how to piss me off, Jagi. I wanna keep you locked up so you won’t ever run away from me again. Hah, Love Countdown is a cute name. I wish I went to your debut performance. I think I’m insane at this point, Jagi. Nine month relationship and I’m acting like this ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

↳ it’s weird, I liked seeing you cry. Back then, when that bastard called you a slut I almost killed him ㅋㅋ … I like putting you in your place. If it’s just an act, it’s okay right?

“Back then… Did he… Did he defend me after I left?” You whispered, shame suddenly rose in your heart.

“Hm?” Yuki asked, looking back over at you.

“Nothing… Nothing. Did you find the movie?”

“Not yet.”

You scrolled down, the rest of the messages going back to being little tidbits on his day to date life. It wasn’t until you made it to today that you tried to read what he sent.

↳ Junnie Hyung to another man? Jagi, are you trying to piss me off??? I’ve been staying calm these past for months when all I’ve wanted to do was drag you home and punish you for abandoning me for five years

↳ don’t do that again… you are always mine, no man should be touching you again like he did. I don’t know what made you leave me, but I hope you know I’m never letting you out of my sight ever again

↳ …Those pants you wore on stage were nice. can you buy your own pair, Jagiya? I wanna tear them off you.

↳ you unblocked me?

A gasp left your lips. What the fuck? How did he already know that? You watched as he began typing, the three dots causing unnecessary panic in your heart.

↳ Did you eat?

Huh? You waited to see if he’d send anything else but he didn’t. It took a moment but you soon replied with a sort yes. The anxiety was building within you and you wanted to just block him again. But your heart wanted him back. Even if the messages he was sending you were insane to the normal person.

It was radio silence before he sent a picture.

It was of him in what you could assume was his bedroom. He was lying on his bed and an LED light illuminated his face. His hair messy while a slight smile pulled on his lips. You couldn’t help but smile.

You wanted to ask about that day. If maybe after you left, he realized he wanted you. That maybe he just didn’t know how to word his feelings properly.

But you felt as if it would be better in person. So, you did what you thought was the best response. You sent a selfie to him, making sure to smile.

It didn’t even take a minute before he started sending hearts. He usually never reacted like this before whenever you sent selfies. Did he change when you were gone?

Roha was right. He did go insane when you left him.

“Found the movie. You better leave before you even think about sexting him.” Yuki suddenly said, laying down on the bed.

You blushed. “What?! I wasn’t going to sext him!!”

Though you were feeling giddy at the thought of being close to him again. You couldn’t help but feel a bit worried about how… odd Ye-Jun was acting.

He really did change. And you weren’t sure if it was for the better.

❝ 이러면 안 되는데 머리론 아는데 ❞

It had only been a week and you had kept a small conversation going with Ye-Jun—he texted you every morning and night. He was more confident as well. Leading to the incident that happened a few days ago.

Black Rose had won on the fan voting for the music show win. Everyone on stage was clapping as Black Rose came to the center to grab the reward. You and your band mates were close so you were right in arms reach when Ye-Jun came over to you.

“Thanks to all of our fans for voting. I’m happy I get to make my dongsaeng proud with our twentieth music show win on our four year anniversary.” Ye-Jun said, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you close.

He kept his attention on the camera recording him. “Please send some love to my dongsaeng’s group, Love Countdown!” He squeezed you tightly before pressing a quick peck on your cheek, earning yells from the crowd.

Your band mates, and Black Rose themselves, looked absolutely shocked to say the least.

Including Korean forums not even a day later.

@_Dohyungotafatty (↑645 ↓320)

↳ dongsaeng my ass.. they fucking ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@jaesflatass (↑236 ↓67)

↳ he wanted to call him Jagiya so bad…

@junhoswhore (↑127 ↓378)

↳ I know skinship is normal but I’ve never wanted to kiss my homies

@_loveandfear (↑564 ↓24)

↳ you not a real homie then. I love kissing my boys good night. Tongue action too

@yukiwukii (↑764 ↓203)

↳ he’s so gay, i wanna call him the f slur ㅠㅠ

@lovewonshiik (↑389 ↓27)

↳ college drop out and gay, pick a struggle ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@freakfundashi (↑386 ↓867)

↳ everyday I get closer to seeing Cho (Name) get creampied on stage

@_Dohyungotafatty (↑433 ↓189)

↳ you’re insane ㅎㅎ but Cho (Name) is definitely the bottom

@jaesflatass (↑330 ↓219)

↳ Kim Ye-Jun makes Cho (Name) bounce on his cock… wonder if it’s big ㅎㅎㅎ

@freakyfundashi (↑3980 ↓340)

↳ I have fanfics of them on AO3. Here’s my username ******

“Is Kim Ye-Jun your boyfriend or something? He keeps commenting on your posts.” Young-Jae asked, sitting down beside you on the couch. You glanced up from your phone and shook your head, blushing slightly.

“What are you even talking about? Kim Ye-Jun is just my seonbae. Don’t be so rude, Hyung.”

“Rude? Look at this.” Young-Jae pulled up on your more recent selfies, one you literally took not even an hour ago. It was of you in the fitting room, getting dressed in a fluffy white sweater and white trousers.

Today the band was doing a photoshoot for your upcoming Japanese debut.

@BRkim_yejun commented : 나는 너를 먹고 싶어…!! 왜 그렇개 귀여워? ㄷㄷ

“Dude, he likes you. He literally called you cute,” Young-Jae said, shaking his head. “If you were a girl, knets would’ve exploded with dating rumors already.”

@BRim_roha replied : 죽을래, 새끼야!!! GET OFF YOUR PHONE AND PICK UP THE PEN!!!

@BRpark_shion replied : 떨 떨?? I’ll give you something to tremble about

@BRseo_minji replied : IM GETTING MY ASS BEAT BECAUSE YOU WANNA GET YOUR DICK WET?!?

@BRhwang_hanbin replied : don’t you guys think you’re as weird as him for spamming the Instagram account? Everyone can see this, you stupid fucks.

Young-Jae looked over at you. “His band mates are as equally as insane. They deserve each other.” He turned off his phone and placed it on the coffee table in front of you both.

You only forced a tight grin. “They’re just eccentric people. Though Roha Hyung wasn’t like this back in university.”

“Hyung? You call Im Roha Hyung but not Kim Ye-Jun? Special treatment.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I heard that.”

You and Young-Jae sat up straight as Dohyun walked over to you both. He shook his head in disapproval before pulling out his phone. Your gaze flickered over to Young-Jae to see him ogling Dohyun. It wasn’t shocking. Dohyun was in a cropped t shirt once again with tight jeans.

Someone on the stylist team wanted to fuck Dohyun so bad at this point.

“Anyway,” Dohyun muttered, frowning at a text message he read before turning his attention over to you and Young-Jae. “The company is holding a birthday party after this for Manager Nayoung. Make sure to come.”

You gave him a quick thumbs up, “course, Hyungie~!”

“Yeah I’ll be there.” Young-Jae muttered.

“To stare at your ass.” You coughed out, earning a swift glare from Young-Jae.

Dohyun raised an eyebrow. “Stare at my slacks? When did you start using the work slacks, Jae-Ah? I can give you the website I buy them from.” He said, smiling.

Young-Jae sighed. “Sure…”

You gave a comforting pat on Young-Jae’s shoulder. Poor guy.

Party. You couldn’t help but briefly wonder if he’d be there…

❝ 거기 멈춰 줄래 빠지기 싫어 싫어 싫어 ❞

The party, of course, was nothing big. Manager Nayoung had asked for something small and chill. So the DJ was playing more 90s and 2000s Kpop. You were glued to Young-Jae for the most part until he got too drunk, somehow, and had to be taken home by Dohyun.

Won-Shik was being weirdly flirty with the older female staff who were enjoying his attention.

Yuki was somewhere, you remembered him saying he wanted to speak to someone.

That just left you and Junho together. You leaned closer to him and sighed, glancing up at him. Junho was staring straight ahead, watching the older people dance as much as their bones could handle before his eyes flickered down to you.

A soft smile spread on his lips. “Enjoying the party?”

“It’s cool.” You giggled. “I know how old people party now.”

“Hey, don’t judge. This is gonna be you in a couple of years. Just you wait.”

You snuggled closer and hummed, reaching up to wipe something off Junho’s cheek. Junho leaned in closer so you didn’t have to stand up on your toes to reach him. It was only a second, just a split second to where it almost looked like you kissed him when an hand grabbed your arm.

A shocked wince left your throat as you looked over to see who your aggressor was.

“Kim Ye-Jun? You were invited?” Junho asked, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of him.

Ye-Jun’s upper lip was pulled into a snarl as he glared at Junho but turned his attention over to you. “What did I tell you, Cho (Name)? Did you forget?”

“What..? I’m just talking to Junnie Hyung…?” You whispered, glad that you were all in the corner of the party so no eyes could see this altercation.

“Excuse me?” Ye-Jun tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he leaned close to you. His hand tightened its grip on your arm. You felt an odd sense of dread as you shut your mouth, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Junho reached over and grabbed your free arm, tugging you back over. “Yah, I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m not going to allow you to manhandle my dongsaeng. Speak to him nicely.”

“Who I think I am?” Ye-Jun turned his attention over to Junho, standing up tall to look straight in the eye. Junho was only two inches taller than Ye-Jun but was carrying more muscle mass in comparison.

It wasn’t even that Ye-Jun didn’t have muscle. Junho was just a bit too buff for his own good.

You knew deep down in your heart Junho would certainly win the fight but judging by how unhinged Ye-Jun has been… you wouldn’t put it past him to act dirty.

“Junho Hyung…” You whispered, catching his attention. “It’s okay… I’ll talk to him in private.”

“I don’t think it’s smart to be alone with him.”

Ye-Jun scoffed. “Why? And you’re safer?”

“Yeah, I am. You haven’t been in his life for five years and only had him for nine months. What claim do you really have over him, Kim Ye-Jun? Do you really know him? Do you know Cho (Name)?”

You balked, wondering how Junho knew that but realized Yuki must’ve mentioned it in passing. It makes sense, Yuki told Junho everything. You should’ve been a bit angry at that but couldn’t help but be happy that Junho was indirectly speaking what you felt deep down inside.

Why was Ye-Jun so set on keeping you as if you’d known him for years?

Ye-Jun’s jaw clinched. “I know how it feels to be without him.” You looked over at him as he tightened his grip on your arm. “And I’m not going through that again.”

“You’re being pretty selfish, Kim Ye-Jun. Did you not even make him your boyfriend? You only realized how much you came to love him when he left?” Junho released your arm, frowning slightly.

“I am selfish. I never said I wasn’t. I want him for myself. It just took for him daring to leave me to truly realize that I can’t be without him.”

“Uhm.” You squeaked out, causing the two men to look down at you. Gosh, it felt so awkward being shorter than them that you only reached their chests. “I’ll be okay… Just let me talk to him so we can resolve our issue.”

Junho sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Okay. You’re an adult. Call me if he does anything.”

You glanced over at Ye-Jun, seeing a slight smirk tugging on his lips. Can’t have him think you’re crawling back so easily.

“Thanks, Junnie Hyung!” You grinned, enjoying the sight of Ye-Jun’s smirk dropping in a millisecond. “I’ll have you on speed dial!”

Once you got the okay from Junho, Ye-Jun practically dragged you out of the building. You waved goodbye to Junho before trying to make Ye-Jun slow down.

Maybe Junho is right.

Kim Ye-Jun doesn’t seem safe in the slightest

❝ 단지 너의 외로움을 단래긴 싫거든 ❞

“A hotel? What? Am I not worthy enough to enter your home?” You laughed, allowing Ye-Jun to push you inside the hotel room. The room was fancier than anything you were used to. Black Rose must be making money.

Ye-Jun slammed the door shut behind him. He tugged off his jacket and tossed it on the ground, his feet heavy as he walked over to you.

“I didn’t take you home because I didn’t want to bother Roha with your screaming.” He said, grabbing your waist.

You blushed, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Screaming? You’re overly confident… Who’s to say I was going to sleep with you?”

Ye-Jun didn’t answer, leaning down as he began pressing kisses against your neck. You whimpered. Your hands gripping at his shirt as he nipped and bit at your skin.

“I don’t need to be confident. I know your body. I know I’m the only one who gets it.” His hands reached down and tugged at your shirt. You stared at him before raising your arms, letting him take off your shirt.

You tried to ignore the hungry look he gave you as he practically clawed at your jeans. Your voice was barely above a whisper, as if you were a bit too nervous to say it. “You act like you’re the only man that’s fucked me.”

His body froze, his eyes narrowing in on your face. You couldn’t help the cockiness that began to build within you at the look on his face.

“What? It was five years. Did you really think I was going to turn celibate because my first ever boyfriend… no, first ever fuck buddy allowed his friends to call me a slut? When asked what you liked about me, all you said was that I made you feel good about yourself.”

Ye-Jun’s eyebrows furrowed as he pulled away, tilting his head as if he was thinking about what you were saying. You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“You forgot? Forgot that you wouldn’t even call me your boyfriend? That I was annoying?!” You couldn’t help yourself, the past anger beginning to bubble up, ready to spill out. “Did those nine months mean anything to you? Or was I… was I just romanticizing our relationship?”

You sighed, rubbing your head. Your throat burned. Shit, were you really about to cry?

A laugh caught your attention as you looked up at Ye-Jun. “You’re laughing…?” You whispered, eyes widening. “You’re laughing after I just poured my heart out?!”

Ye-Jun hummed nonchalantly, tugging off his own shirt. “Yeah. You left me for that? For five years I thought I did something wrong but it was just you getting emotional.”

“Getting emotional?! Yah, Kim Ye-Jun—!”

“—Cho (Name).” His voice sharp. “That day, November 3rd, when I first saw you—I thought you were cute but stupid. Who would run head first into a busy intersection for a stupid umbrella? It was my luck that when I finished my service and you were at my university.”

The calm atmosphere around Ye-Jun made you feel uneasy as you watched him pull off his bracelet. He looked over at you and grinned.

“That first day I got to truly know you, I thought you were the most selfish annoying little shit ever. Me, Me, Me. That’s all you talked about—didn’t ask me any questions about myself.”

You frowned, throat tightening as you tried to fight back the tears welling in your eyes.

“But you know what made me come back? Guess, Jagi.”

“Sex…?”

“Jagiya… Don’t sell yourself so short.” Ye-Jun laughed, shaking his head. His hand reached over and grabbed the belt hoops of your jeans, pulling you flushed against his chest. You let out a shocked gasp. “I saw you. Outside at the college park, crying your eyes out. You looked so cute.”

You shuddered, glancing down as you felt his hand move to your button, pulling it loose.

“You saw me and then immediately ran over to me. Jumped into my arms without even asking me and just cried, begging for comfort.” Ye-Jun chuckled as if he was remembering the moment. “I almost pushed you off but you were cute… So cute. I liked seeing your face ruined with tears.”

“I don’t understand.” You whispered, unable to stop him as he slowly pulled down your zipper.

“I wanted you after seeing you cry and cling onto me. I’ll be honest, I was going to stop seeing you after we first fucked. But then you suddenly said I was your first time… that you didn’t want any other man to touch you.” He laughed. “But you didn’t seem to keep that promise, did you?”

Ye-Jun pushed you onto the bed, grabbing your jeans as he pulled them off. You whimpered, unable to move as you watch him stand tall over you. A small smirk pulled on his lips.

“Everyday, you practically threw yourself at me. So cute and innocent. Whiny in bed as you begged me to fuck you. Slowly you ruined me, Jagiya. I liked how overly dependent you were on me.”

A strangled gasp left your lips as the sound of fabric tearing filled the room. You looked down to see Ye-Jun’s hands tearing open your boxers, creating a hole right at your ass. It was practically ruined.

“I didn’t think at first to make us ‘official.’ My mistake, huh? I didn’t think you’d run off so quickly without speaking to me just because of other people.” His hand gripped at your thighs. “When you didn’t immediately text me back I knew something was wrong. But I tried to think that it’d be good to not have you up under me.”

He laughed, looking down at you. “It was lonely. The first night without you made me never want to be alone again. But you left me alone for five years. Jagiya, did you not think about how I’d feel?”

“But… You didn’t…”

“Didn’t what? Defend you? Is that what you want from me? To be your knight? I’ll be him. Anything to make you stay.”

You gasped, clutching the bedsheets as you’re suddenly flipped onto your stomach, back arched. It was silent for a moment before you felt something cool coat your ass. Your body flinched, a pained whimper leaving your throat.

“Who was it?”

“H..Huh..? Ngh!” You cried out, feeling two fingers sink inside your hole. There was no build up or even a second for you to get used to it. Ye-Jun began to pump his finger in and out, using his free hand to deliver a smack to your ass.

“Who was it? Yang Junho? Did he get to touch you?”

“N..No! No, never..!” You whined, crying at the repeated thrusting against your prostate. The fact he was able to find it so easily scared you. Why could he remember stuff about you after five years?

“Then who, Jagi?”

“Ngh…! It… Mmh!! Ah… Hah.. Y..Young-Jae Hyung…”

“Lee Young-Jae..?” Ye-Jun whispered, his thrusting suddenly slowing down. “You had sex with him?”

“Mhm…” You whined, missing the feeling despite the tears threatening to fall. “We.. We were bored during our trainee years and we couldn’t date so we just became fuck buddies for about a year or so.. Ngh.. We stopped when we met Dohyun Hyung because Jae Hyung caught feelings for him…”

“Only him?”

“…Uhm…”

“Jagi.”

“No… I… I slept with someone after that. But then I couldn’t do it anymore because I got so busy with our debut.”

“Who?”

“You wouldn’t know him. Why do you even care? You probably slept with people during these five years!”

Ye-Jun chuckled. “Mhm. I didn’t. Well, I tried at least.” His finger slipped out of your ass, both hands now spreading you open. “But no one could compare to the pretty face you make whenever you cum on my cock.”

You gasped as you were forced back onto your back and dragged so your lower half of your body hung off the bed. Ye-Jun tilted his head as he drank you on, a slow smile creeping on his lips.

“I missed see you like this. Scared and complainant to my touch. You didn’t fight me at all, Cho (Name). You still want me, don’t you?”

Your hands gripped at the bedsheets as you turned your head to the side, clamping your eyes shut. He only laughed.

“Keep pretending you hate me. I heard sex feels good with hate.” The sound of the zipper and his belt buckle made you flinch, legs instinctively clamping together. You were scared but made no real attempt to move away.

A strangled gasp left your throat as he began to slowly thrust inside of you. It had been up to a year at this point—you almost forgot how much it hurts the first time. Forgot about how big he was.

Ye-Jun groaned, his hands reached up to grab your wrists as he brought them together over your stomach. “Mhm. You still feel so good, Jagiya. How can I live without this?”

You whimpered, eyes shut tight as you feel tears threatening to fall. It was silent for a moment. Your hole repeatedly clenching around his cock as you tried to get used to the feeling. Just as you were about to feel just a smidge of calmness, Ye-Jun slammed into you.

The sound of skin slapping filled the room in tandem with your hiccuped gasps. Tears were freely flowing as your lips parted, trying to say something. You couldn’t even remember what you were going to say.

Your toes curled as the repeated thrusting got you to finally open your eyes and glance down.

Ye-Jun looked downright sinful. His gaze never left your face as his hips slammed into your ass. Hands tightening around your wrists. A smirk pulled on his lips when he noticed you were finally paying attention to him.

“You really are so cute.” He muttered, a crazed look in his eyes as he took you in. “You’re crazy for trying to deprive me of you, Cho (Name). I shouldn’t have let you leave so easily.”

“Ngh… Wh..! Mhm, you act… hah.. act like you could’ve stopped me..!” You managed to finally speak, though it was short lived when his cock finally grazed against your prostate. Ye-Jun moved his hands so only one held both your wrists while the other held your right leg up.

“Oh, you’re still able to talk.” He said, completely ignoring your comment. “Can’t have that.”

He pulled out, much to your dismay, and released his grip on your body. You looked at him with wide eyes, tears staining your face as you wondered what he was going to do. Ye-Jun hummed as he maneuvered you to rest on your stomach once more.

You grunted at the force. “Stop…! Manhandling me!” You whined.

Ye-Jun ignored you again, forcing you to bend your knees on the bed so he could force your ass up high. His hand slipped underneath your boxers and gripped the band. You wondered if he was going to finally just take them off when he thrusted his cock inside your slick hole.

A stuttered high pitched gasp left your throat as he began to repeatedly slam his hips against your ass. He tugged at the hand of boxers, forcing your body to move back on his cock whenever you attempted to pull away just for a second of clarity.

It was repeated attacks on your prostate. The squelching from the lube and the sounds of skin slapping together with the sound of your high pitched moans filled the hotel room. Shit, you were so sure you would be getting a complaint tomorrow.

“I have so many things I want to do to you, Jagiya. To make up for lost time. Because you aren’t ever leaving me again. But I’ll be nice tonight… You have a Japanese debut to prepare for.”

You only whimpered, trying to form some type of words but could only rest your head against the bed.

“But after, I’m going to make you feel the pain you made me feel when you left me for those five years. What happened at the festival was only a taste.”

Ye-Jun delivered a harsh smack to your ass as you let out a shocked gasp. You couldn’t think clearly anymore—just babbling nonsense as your cock rubbed against the bedsheets dejectedly.

You were so close… You hoped Ye-Jun would be kind enough to let you cum tonight.

It seems your prayers were answered as a hand suddenly wrapped itself around your cock. A appreciative mewl escaped you as he began to pump your cock in sync with his thrusting.

The pleasure became too much as a long cry left you as your body began to slump. Your cock squirted against the covers, messing up your stomach in the process. But Ye-Jun didn’t stop, he continued fucking you despite your whines of overstimulation.

His grunting got louder as his hand gripped your ass. You gasped when he slammed deep inside one last time, hips flushed against your ass you began to feel something hot coat your inner walls.

He didn’t wear a condom… You hadn’t even noticed. This was the first time you ever had sex without a condom. Your first ever creampie.

Of course, Kim Ye-Jun was the one to do it.

Your body slumped against the bed, falling onto your side as he pulled out. You couldn’t even complain, too tired to do anything beside sleep.

Ye-Jun leaned over your body and leaned down, pressing a kiss on your cheek. “Don’t sleep yet. You can’t sleep on the sheets.” He wrapped his arms around your legs and upper body, easily lifting you up.

You were in and out as he got a bath ready. Your eyes fluttering close just as he lowered you into the water. He flicked your forehead, jolting you awake as you whined.

“Wha…tsthatfor?” You whispered.

“You can’t fall asleep. I don’t want you to drown in the bath.”

You must’ve ended up falling asleep anyway because you awoke on the bed, dressed in a fluffy white bathrobe. It was dark in the room, only a little light shining through the cracks of the shades from the street lamps.

A hand tightened its grip on your waist as you looked over, seeing Ye-Jun’s face buried in your neck as he clung to your body. You managed to free one hand and reached over to check your messages on your phone.

Roha Hyung

↳ make sure that homosexual is back by 10 am, we have practice in the morning

Jun Jun Hyung

↳ Are you safe? Please make sure you’re safe. Text me in the morning.

Ki Ki Hyung

↳ when did you leave? Are you okay? You better be in your room by 8 am when I visit

Dohyunie Hyung

↳ please don’t come home until after 10 am!!!!! Stay in my room tonight!! PleSjheja!!!

Wonnie Hyung

↳ was I the only one that didn’t know Yuki and Junho are fucking?!? wtf??? Am I only the one who likes girls in this damn band?!??

Jae Hyung

↳ !!!! DOHYUN HYUNG IS SUCKING MY DICK!!!!

↳ IM SO FUCKING HIS ASS TONIGHT!!!!

↳ anyway don’t come home, we’re gonna fuck all night ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

You shut your phone off and gently placed it back on the nightstand. You’d deal with that mess in the morning.

Your body shifted as you glanced down at Ye-Jun.

Surely you didn’t think he was serious. He couldn’t be this obsessed with you after nine months.

Right?

Poor, naive Cho (Name).

❝ 시작해 버린 순간 못 헤어나올 걸 아니까 ❞

He thought he was seeing things that day.

Love Countdown’s Cho (Name). You stood right there in front of him. He almost ran over to you and hugged you so tight, hoping it wasn’t just a dream. You looked so cute with those heart freckles.

He didn’t think you’d debut in a band. He didn’t remember anything about you being able to play any instrument.

Roha would tell him of course he didn’t. He only knew you for nine months. That wasn’t enough time to get to know someone that well. Especially someone like you who seemed unable to talk about anything besides your family drama or love for Ye-Jun.

Ye-Jun almost thought you just looked oddly similar to his (Name). Until Lee Young-Jae called your name. Until he saw how you looked at him with fear but also some type of love? Like you also wanted to just run into his arms.

No matter.

He was used to having total control of the relationship. He should’ve never allowed you to just take control so suddenly. You broke the relationship without even talking to him.

He’d get you back. No matter what. Because you were his.

Even if you didn’t know that.

@BRkim_yejun started following @TheRealLoveCountdown

❝ 점점 멈추기 힘들어 갈 수록 중독돼 ❞

…. Don’t make fun of me, this wasn’t supposed to be so long lmfao. Anyway don’t even ask, I’ll be using Ye-Jun again and make a part two in future. He’s too toxic to pass up on

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @kiiyoooo @star-3214 @tehyunnie @flurrina @ofclyde @iwishtobeacrow @love-kha1 @mooncarvers-world @smellwell @tomoeroi @remdayz @cherry-blossoms-187 @rhetorical-conscience @mello-life25

Translations:

ㅎㅎㅎ (하하하) — hahaha

ㅋㅋㅋㅋ (크크크크) — LOL

ㄷ ㄷ (떨딸) — trembling

❝ 목이 메어 ❞ — my throat is tight

❝ 매달려 봤는데 상처 발더러고 ❞ — I clung onto that person, and I ended up getting hurt

귀여워, 자기야… 셀키 더 찍어 주세요… 뽀뽀하고 싶어요 ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ — cute, baby. Please take more selfies!! I wanna kiss you, lolol

❝ 진지하진 않잖아 가벼운 간보기잖아 ❞ — you’re not being serious, it’s just a test, isn’t it?

❝ 이러면 안 되는데 머리론 아는데 ❞ — I shouldn’t be like this, I know in my mind

나는 너를 먹고 싶어…!! 왜 그렇개 귀여워? ㄷㄷ — I wanna eat you. Why are you so cute? *shaking*

죽을래, 새끼야!!! — do you wanna die, son of a bitch (this is where sae kki ya came from)

❝ 거기 멈춰 줄래 빠지기 싫어 싫어 싫어 ❞ — please stop right there, I don’t don’t don’t want to fall for you

❝ 단지 너의 외로움을 단래긴 싫거든 ❞ — I don’t only want to soothe your loneliness

❝ 시작해 버린 순간 못 헤어나올 걸 아니까 ❞ — because from the moment it starts, I know I can’t break free

❝ 점점 멈추기 힘들어 갈 수록 중독돼 ❞ — it’s getting harder to stop, I’m getting more addicted to you

Songs used — 121u by Day6 and sOng Of ice and fire by OnlyOneOf

#bottom male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #uke male reader #male reader #oc x reader #mlm ns/fw #smut drabble #male bottom reader #original character

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sargeant-bxrnes · 1 month ago

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you’re how i pray.

summary: reluctantly, you found yourself reaching out to the church for guidance, to better your “wrongs.” only to meet father charlie and realize there was a whole world of sins you’ve yet to indulge in. [REQUESTED.]

pairings: charlie mayhew x fem!reader

warnings: conversations about religion and moral, blasphemy (?), charlie is a manipulative freak!. SMUT: this is DIRTYYYY, fingering (fem), oral (fem), unprotected sex, manhandling, dirty talk.

WC: 3.6K (sorry, i got into it)

my masterlist! requests are OPEN!

Your steps echoed against the cold stone floors of the church. The towering figure of your aunt walked ahead, moving with self-righteous purpose. You rolled your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek to stifle the irritation that boiled beneath your skin.

Of course, therapy had been a good start. You had actually been making progress, learning to manage your anger, to quiet the voice inside you that urged you to rebel against every rule, every boundary. But your family… they believed therapy wasn’t enough. They had another solution.

Father Charlie. You had heard of him. A young priest, charismatic and well-liked by the community.

Your aunt wasted no time, walking straight up to the office where Father Charlie stood. His presence was larger than life, draped in his priestly robes, and yet his eyes—those piercing brown eyes—held a spark that didn’t quite match the image of a humble servant of God.

“Father Charlie, thank you for meeting with us,” your aunt began, already launching into a tirade about you. Words like rebellious, problematic, and sinful spilled out as though they had been rehearsed. You stood there, arms crossed, glaring at the rows of candles flickering on the altar.

Father Charlie nodded sympathetically but his gaze never left you. He didn’t interrupt your aunt’s sermon, though, and once the woman was satisfied that she had delivered enough holy condemnation, she patted you on the shoulder.

“Father Charlie will talk to you, sweetie. He’ll help you.”

With that, your aunt left, leaving behind a cloud of forced piety. The silence settled in as Father Charlie waited until the doors shut behind her.

“Guessing by your expression, I’m sure this wasn’t your first option, coming to me.” he said, his voice unexpectedly soft.

You shrugged, leaning back against one of the wooden furnitures of his office. “Yeah. My family has unfortunately convinced themselves that I’m a lost cause, and that only God can save me. Or so.”

Father Charlie smiled, and something about it made you feel more cautious than comforted. “Why do you think people see you that way?”

The question took you by surprise. Not the usual condescending lecture, not yet, anyway. “Because I don’t see the point in all these rules they’re obsessed with. I do whatever I want, and that annoys people. We’re born into this world, and instead of living the lives we want, we’re told what to do from the moment we can speak. Doesn’t that sound a little… cruel to you?”

“Rules are there to keep the community together. Without them, society would fall apart.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Maybe. But what’s the point if those rules only help some people? The rich keep getting richer, while the rest of us… we’re always at the bottom. And that’s okay as long as we obey, right?”

“So, you think life is about doing whatever you want? No restrictions at all?”

“Not exactly,” you said. “I just think people should be free to make their own choices. To live without constant guilt and fear hanging over them. This whole idea that we’re supposed to follow blindly or be damned… it doesn’t sit right with me.”

The priest studied you for a moment, and you could feel the intensity of his gaze. “Do you believe in God?”

Your lips pressed together in a thin line. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s something out there, something bigger than us. But the people in this community? The hypocrisy. The way they use their faith to control others. It’s toxic.”

Father Charlie nodded slowly. “You’re not the first to feel that way. But you’re not as alone as you think, either.”

“What do you mean?”

His smile was back, but this time, it held something else. Something darker. “Let’s just say… not everyone in this church follows the rules as strictly as you might think.”

A shiver crept down your spine, but you couldn’t tell if it was fear or something else. His words, his tone—they didn’t match the image of the holy man you had been expecting. You sat down on the couch, to keep some distance.

“Let’s talk more,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “I’m curious about your thoughts on freedom. On life… on sin.”

Your pulse quickened as he took a seat next to you, far too close for comfort, but you didn’t move. There was something magnetic about him. Dangerous, but magnetic.

“You know,” Charlie began, his fingers lightly tracing the soft edge of the couch beneath both, “a lot of people in your position feel trapped by expectations. You said it yourself: you don’t like the way rules seem to be designed to keep some people down.”

You nodded slowly, unsure where this was leading, but already feeling a shift in the atmosphere.

He tilted his head, his gaze holding yours, and there was a glimmer of amusement—something almost wicked—in his eyes. “You’re not wrong to want freedom. To want more. But what you have to understand is that most people… they’re too afraid to admit it.”

“Too afraid?”

“Yes. They bury their desires under obedience, hoping it will make them feel whole. But deep down, they crave… more. They want to push against those boundaries.” He leaned in closer, his tone growing silkier. “Don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” you said, though you did know. It just didn’t feel safe to admit it—not to yourself, and definitely not to him. “I mean, I get frustrated, but… it’s not like I’m going to rebel against everything.”

“What if you did? What if, just for a moment, you allowed yourself to explore that side of you? The one that questions. The one that craves freedom… and maybe, other things?” Charlie’s eyes sparkled with something that felt far more dangerous than faith.

Other things. The way he said it, as if it were an invitation, hung heavily between both. You could feel the tension building, the heat.

“I think…” you started, your voice shaky, “I think people would lose their minds if I did something like that.”

His lips curled into a slow, knowing grin. “Maybe that’s exactly what they need.”

He let the words sink in before continuing, his voice dipping into something darker, more seductive. “You don’t need to live your life based on what others expect of you. There’s power in choosing for yourself.“

This conversation wasn’t going the way you’d imagined. You had expected judgment, correction—but instead, he was… encouraging you.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper now.

You looked away, feeling a flush creep up your neck. “I don’t know.”

“You’re lying,” Charlie said softly, his voice dipping even lower. “I think you know exactly what you want. You just haven’t allowed yourself to feel it fully.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs, and you couldn’t ignore the way his words wrapped around you like a dark temptation. There was a part of you that did want something—something wild, something free, something dangerous. But this? Here? With him?

“It’s okay to admit it,” Charlie said, leaning closer, his lips dangerously close to your ear now. “Sometimes… surrendering to what you really desire is more powerful than fighting it.”

Your breath caught, and for a second, you leaned into him, drawn by the magnetism of his words. It was intoxicating—the way he seemed to know exactly what to say. But you pulled back, confusion warring with the strange attraction that was blooming inside you.

“You’re a priest,” you said, as though reminding him—and yourself—would somehow break the spell.

Charlie chuckled, the sound low and smooth. “I am. But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand temptation. Sin is… fascinating, isn’t it? Especially the kind that makes you question everything you thought you knew about yourself.”

There was something so wrong about this conversation, and yet, you couldn’t deny the pull. The way he was making you feel—seen, understood, even desired—was something you hadn’t expected to find in this place.

He held your gaze, his confidence palpable. “You crave connection. An escape from the chains of expectation. You want to live life on your terms, even if that means stepping outside the lines drawn by those who think they know better. I admire that.”

“You really don’t know what you’re getting into,” you said, trying to regain some control.

“Perhaps,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly charming way. “But what if I’m willing to take that risk? To explore those uncharted waters with you?”

“Is that what you do with all the girls who come in here, Father?” you shot back, trying to mask the way your pulse quickened at the thought.

“Most don’t provoke me the way you do,” he said, his voice low and velvety. “They’re afraid to stray too far from the righteous path. But you… you have a light about you that beckons me closer. It’s intoxicating.”

Your cheeks warmed under his intense scrutiny, but you quickly shook your head, refusing to be swayed. “You shouldn’t say things like that. You’re a priest.”

“Ah, but that’s the thing, isn’t it?” he replied smoothly, his gaze unflinching. “What does that really mean? I wear the collar, sure, but I’m also a man—one who understands the darker desires that lie beneath the surface. You’re drawn to them, aren’t you?”

“Maybe I’m just curious,” you replied, attempting to sound nonchalant.

“Curiosity is a dangerous game,” he said, his voice a seductive whisper. “Especially when it leads you to someone like me. You could explore all the answers to your questions, and perhaps even find the absolution you didn’t know you were seeking—if you dare to take that step.”

“And what’s the price for that?” you challenged, not ready to give in but undeniably intrigued.

“Just your trust,” he said, his gaze piercing through your defenses. “Let me guide you. Allow me to show you that the rules can bend, that the lines can blur. And in return, you’ll discover a side of yourself you never knew existed. It’s a fair exchange, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” you finally replied, your voice barely above a whisper, “but I’m not so easily led.”

He leaned in closer, their faces mere inches apart. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He ran his thumb delicately along your lower lip. “Lose yourself in me. Let me be your forbidden pleasure, your dark indulgence. Together, we can create a sin so divine, it will set your soul free.”

You feel his thumb diving inside your mouth. He pressed his thumb deeper, exploring the warm, wet cavern of your mouth as if mapping your innermost terrain.

“Mmmm, so eager to please," he purred, his other hand sliding down your side to grip your hip, holding you steady. "Your mouth was made for sin." With a subtle twist, he coaxed your tongue to swirl around the intrusion, a sinful game of give-and-take that left you breathless and wanting more. "Such a willing little temptress,"

And before you can process, he’s kissing you. And things gets heated, fast. It doesn’t seem to matter that you both were sitting on the couch from his office, inside the church. He claimed your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue plunging in to dance with yours in a primal, urgent rhythm. The scent of your arousal mingled with the musky undertones of his cologne, fogging the air with a heady, addictive haze. His hands roamed your body, possessive and demanding, as he pulled you closer, his own arousal throbbing against the confines of his trousers.

“So sweet," he growled against your lips, breaking the kiss only to nip and suck his way down your neck, leaving a trail of heated, open-mouthed kisses. "Such a delicious little sin."

His fingers deftly unfastened the buttons of your blouse, revealing the lacy bra beneath and the creamy swells of your breasts. You gasped, feeling his lips on your skin. Desperate and wanton, hungry.

He kissed and licked a path downward, pausing to toy with the lacy edge of your bra before tugging the delicate fabric aside with his teeth. His hot mouth closed over the swell of your breast, his tongue swirling to coax forth a responsive moan. His lips slid lower, fixating on your nipple. He suckled, the rhythmic pull of his lips and the scrape of his teeth sending jolts of pleasure-pain shooting through your sensitive flesh.

“Mmmm, you taste so divine," he purred, his free hand sliding up your thigh to brush against the damp fabric of your panties. "Every inch of you is made for sin."

You could foresee his intentions even before he started to move. His lips went lower down your chest, over your stomach, to the waistband of your skirt. With practiced ease, he slid his hands down your curves, peeling away the last of your garments with a hunger that bordered on reverence.

Your skirt and panties joined the discarded heap of your blouse and bra on the floor, leaving you bare and vulnerable beneath his intense scrutiny. His eyes raked over you, drinking in every inch of exposed flesh as if committing it to memory. The sight of you, spread out before him, was a feast for his sinful appetites.

“Exquisite," he breathed, his voice thick with desire. "You're a vision of decadence. I'm going to indulge in every moment of our encounter, savoring every morsel of pleasure you offer me."

With that, he sank to his knees before you, his fingers brushing against your inner thighs as he gazed up at you with a wicked promise in his eyes. He leaned in, his breath a hot whisper against your most intimate flesh.

And he went at it, eager to devour. He started off with a long, languid lick with the flat of his tongue, licking from the edge of your slit all the way to the clit. It was utterly sinful, erotic.

He lapped at you, his long, dexterous tongue swirling and delving with a sinful expertise that made you gasp and squirm. The flat of his tongue glided along your slit, gathering your sweet essence before he darted the tip to tease the sensitive bump of your clit. He licked and suckled, alternating between long, languid strokes and fast, frantic jabs of his tongue, each one designed to drive you a little crazier with need.

“You taste so good,," he purred, his words muffled against your pulsing flesh. "I could eat this sweet cunt all day and never tire of it."

Two fingers slipped inside you, stretching and filling you as his tongue continued its relentless assault. He pumped them in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue's movements as he brought you closer to the edge. His fingers curled, seeking that special spot that would send you plummeting into ecstasy. With each pass, his touch grew firmer, more insistent, as if trying to coax the very essence of your being from your depths. His lips and tongue never ceased their worship of your clit, suckling and flicking against the throbbing nub in a maddening dance of pleasure and desperation.

He could feel you teetering on the brink, your sweet cum flooding his fingers as your hips bucked and writhed in mindless need. His tongue worked frantically against your clit, a dizzying whirl of licks and suckles that left you breathless and begging for more. One last, long lick, and you were sent hurtling over the edge, your orgasm ripping through like a thunderclap.

“Yes," he hummed, his voice a reverent whisper. "Let it happen. Let me feel you cum for me." And as the waves of your climax crashed over you, he remained, drinking in every last drop of your release like a man dying of thirst.

And you thought that would be it, but no. He rearranged you, laying you down as he stripped off his cassock in a hurried tug. The garment joined the pile of your clothes, and he wasted no time unfastening his belt and shucking off his trousers. His massive cock sprang free, the thick, pulsing length already flushed and throbbing with need.

He loomed over you, his thick, throbbing cock jutting out before him like a red-hot brand, burning with the need for release. With a knee, he pushed your legs apart, spreading you in blatant invitation, before positioning himself between your thighs. One hand tipped your chin up, forcing you to meet his burning gaze as he lined himself up with your most intimate entrance.

“Last chance to turn back," he growled, the tip of his cock notched against your aching flesh. "Once I sink into you, there's no going back. You'll be mine, body and soul." He paused, his expression almost wistful. "But I know you won't refuse me. You want this, as much as I do."

With that, he surged forward, burying himself in your warmth with a groan of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

He filled you slowly, deliberately, each inch a decadent slide into heaven as he stretched you impossibly wide around his girth. The sensation was overwhelming, the burn of his intrusion mixing with the sweet, tingling pleasure that only he could evoke. When he finally bottomed out, he paused, savoring the feeling of being completely sheathed within you. He was huge, and you could feel every throbbing inch of him as he pulsed and twitched inside you.

“So perfect," he breathed, his voice low and husky with satisfaction. He took a deep breath, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he fought to regain his composure. "You were made for me. Every curve, every hollow, every inch of your sweet cunt is tailor-made to take my cock."

He began to move, slow and deep at first, withdrawing until only the thick head remained before plunging back in, his strokes growing firmer, more insistent as he lost himself in the mindless pleasure of the joining. — He took you like a man possessed, his pace growing faster, more erratic as he chased his release. The couch creaked in protest beneath both, the sound mingling with the ragged breathing and the obscene squelch of his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy. Your back arched, pushing your pert breasts toward his devouring mouth as he feasted on one while still pounding into you. He growled against your skin, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation to the maelstrom of pleasure wracking your body.

Your eyes rolled back, feeling him pounding deep into your cunt as he suckled your tit. Wary, you used a hand to cover your mouth, trying to muffle the sound.

His mouth left your breast with a wet pop, and he sealed his lips over yours in a fierce, dominating kiss. His tongue invaded, claiming yours in a sensual dance that left both breathless. All the while, he continued his relentless pace, his cock pistoning in and out of you with brutal efficiency. He could feel your walls fluttering around him, your sweet cream coating his shaft as you teetered on the brink of another orgasm. With a groan, he broke the kiss, his eyes blazing with a primal intensity as he prepared to unleash his own release.

“Cum for me," he commanded, his voice a raw, desperate snarl. "Take my cock, just like that. Fuck- come for me. Come on my cock.”

The mix of the sensations and the sheer desperation on his voice, how needy it suddenly sounded did it for you. As your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your inner walls clamped down around him like a vice, cum gushing out to coat his cock and balls. The sensation was enough to tip him over the edge, and with a hoarse bellow, he buried himself to the hilt and came, his thick seed pulsing deep inside you as his body shuddered and spasmed.

“Fuck!" he gasped, his hands gripping your hips like an anchor as he rode out the waves of his climax. "Yes... oh, god... yes..." He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the couch as he struggled to catch his breath.

As you recovered, you started to process. Thinking to yourself. Did you- did you just fuck a priest? Maybe you ARE as troublesome as people claim.

He slowly pulled out of you, his softening cock slipping free with a wet plop. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss, his eyes never leaving yours. "Don't overthink it, my sweet," he murmured against your mouth. "Just enjoy the afterglow."

He leaned on his elbow, his free hand gently brushing the hair from your face as he took in your flushed, sated features.

"We've both crossed lines. Lines we can't simply erase. But perhaps that's for the best. Perhaps this is the key to setting you free." A sly smile played on his lips as he stood, his naked form glistening with sweat in the dim light. "Now, how about we continue this little sin of ours in the bed, hmm?"

And as that idea enticed you… you realized that perhaps you ARE a lost cause.

#grotesquerie #fic rec #nicholas chavez #priest kink #priest mayhew #charlie mayhew #charlie mayhew smut #grotesquerie smut #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez smut #smut #i’m down bad for this man #i don’t even know what to tag this #priest mayhew smut #priest charlie mayhew smut #ahs smut

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klemen-tine · 2 months ago

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Please Please Please (Mom! Reader x Batfam)

Don't prove I'm right~ I love that song so much. Anyways! Not extreme Yandere, but part 2 will have some. This is just the setting up for it. Also, while writing I won't lie, I forgot about Damien, so he will have a lot of showtime in the next part. FYI

TW: Cheating, slapping (Reader slaps Bruce), Reader also throws something at Bruce.

In now way do I condone partner violence. no matter how mad you get, you should never hit or throw something at your partner.

In case you have never heard this song before, first of all who are you? Secondly here is the link

@Rosecentury

@Problematicreblogger

@Kurai-hono-blog

@Lunaluz432

@testishere

Y/N had put her life on pause for Bruce and his hero complex. She is a top-model. A supermodel that is still being asked to do photoshoots, make guest appearances, and dominate the runway despite her time away from it. The strict workout regime was still her daily exercise, and she still was conscious of what she ate. Age had not affected her the way it has to some of her friends because Y/N lived to be a model.

Yet, she had put that on the backburner for her husband and kids. She forced her attention onto the scarred and vibrant children that her traumatized husband brought in like strays. Y/N raised them, alongside Alfred. It’s because of them that their sons and daughters did not turn out as crooked as Bruce Wayne. A man that was full of jagged and sharp pieces, piercing the skin of whoever got close.

E/C eyes rolled nearly out her socket, taking a sip of the morning coffee and waiting for her youngest to come down. She ignored the nervous glances being sent her way from her sons, and instead pulled out her phone to look for a familiar contact.

“None of you have anything I need to be here for, do you?” Tim and Jason quickly shook their heads, and Dick gave a nervous smile, “Not really… although it would be nice if you stayed here though.” Y/N raised a delicate eyebrow, and a sharp smile formed on her lips as she pressed ‘call,’ “Ah, don’t worry Dickie, I’ll come back. I’m just going on a trip.”

The person answered, and before they could start spewing curses, Y/N greeted them, “Hey, Jackie! It’s Y/N.”

“Y-Y/N! What’s going on?”

“Remember those gigs you were telling me about?”

“Yeah?”

“Book them.” The boys stood up while her manager on the other line sputtered in excitement, “Really?! Oh my gosh Y/N this is so exciting! Which ones do you want? I know you want to stay close to Gotham -heaven knows why- but I can find some in-”

“All of them.”

“...what?”

“Book all of them.” Jackie hummed, “Some are out of the country though.”

“Even better! Pack your bags Jackie, we are gonna be gone for a while. Bring Stella too, I’ll pay for both of your tickets and lodgings.” Jackie was stuttering, “The-the first gig in a week is Venice, Italy! Is that enough time for you to-”

“Let's leave tonight.”

“Tonight?!” Everyone screeched, and Y/N gave her sons an annoyed look, “Yes, tonight. Let's enjoy Venice like when we were young, and show Stella around. I’m sure the two of you could use a vacation anyways.”

“....Y/N, is everything okay?”

“Peachy. See you tonight.” Y/N hung up, and threw her phone on the opposite end of the couch, continuing to sip her cup of coffee as the news reporter continued to talk about Batman and his risky rendezvous with Catwoman. The perfect love story.

The pursuer and the pursued. The cop and robber. Batman, the man of justice, and Catwoman, a thief.

Her jaw clenched, and her fingers tightened around the handle of the mug. The air around her was full of jitters and Dick was basically vibrating with worry, Jason focused intensely on his phone, and Tim was drinking even more coffee.

“Um, mom, are you… is this…” Dick was fumbling, trying to find the words, and Y/N smiled, “C’mon on Dickie. It’s been a while since I went on the runway, or even in front of a camera outside of Gotham. You’re all old enough now, it’s fine.”

“What about Dami?” Y/N smiled sadly, “Dami will be fine. Hell, today I’ll have him help me choose the jewelry and clothes that I will be packing.”

“You’re gonna have him help you pack your bags to leave?” Tim wondered, and Y/N flinched out how terrible that sounded, “Not like that. It’s a trip. A fashion trip and a girls trip.” Jason scrunched his nose, “Ma, fucking Bruce just go caught cheating and was broadcasted across the NEWs, and you’re now leaving for a trip. Do you think Dami will understand that?”

Y/N took a sip of her coffee, “He will. It’ll be a conversation but it will be reiterated as many times as he needs to hear it. Plus, it’s not like you guys can’t call me.” Damien came stomping down the stairs, dressed in the Gotham Academy Uniform, and Y/N threw on a smile that would have had actresses crying, “Dami! I need your help today, so nevermind school.” Green eyes blinked in shock, his gaze taking in every one in the room before landing back on her, “Are you needing my assistance in packing?”

“Only for a trip. So there’s no need to pack everything.” Damien nodded, “Fine. I will assist you. You have an abysmal amount of jewelry and some of them are simply deplorable.” Y/N chuckled, “Thanks Dami.” He went back up the stairs to change, and Y/N turned back to the NEWs where they were finally talking about something different.

Sighing, Y/N stood up from the couch, “I’ll be in my room packing if anyone needs anything.” Silence followed her, and once she was out of earshot, Dick proceeded to panic even more.

+++

She’s in Greece now. After spending a week in Italy, a week in Iceland, two weeks in France, and now four days in Zakynthos, Greece, she knows her vacation time is limited. Y/N has been using Bruce’s card to pay for the three luxury hotel rooms, one for herself (obviously), Jackie, and Stella. She’s used them for the plane flight in first class, the first class train ride, the yacht to get to this island, the fancy dinners, shopping sprees, any time that she needed to put money down she was using his card.

Bruce is a billionaire, he doesn’t care and Y/N is also a billionaire, but this is her way of being petty. Why would she waste her money?

A delicate eyebrow raised at the man in the mirror, followed by two of their sons and a butler dressed in a Hawaiian shirt.

“Lady Y/N, it is great to see you.”

“Hey Alfie, vacation looks good on you. I highly recommend the mimosa’s here, none of them have been bad.”

“Hi Ma, you look relaxed.” Jason walked further into the room, taking a seat on the plush chair and grabbing a grape, and tossing some to Dick. Their oldest son smiled and waved, “C’mon mom, I know you’ve been here before, but you could at least try and look like a tourist.” Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling lovingly and flicking her hair over her shoulder. She leaned close to the mirror again, rubbing sunscreen on her face and massaging it into her skin.

Her husband made his way a little closer as the family spread out in the room. Jason sitting in the chair, Dick on the bed, and Alfred standing near the door. Y/N sneered at Bruce through the mirror, “Bringing the kids to see you get humiliated is something I would have never thought you’d do.”

Bruce sighed heavily, and Y/N wiped her hands on the towel and sipped her mimosa. Piercing blue eyes, filled with exhaustion and guilt, met hers, “Y/N, how much longer are you scheduled for?”

“Hmm, for a while Bruce,” She pretended to think, “After all, I’ve been wanting to get back into modeling now that most of the kids are becoming independent, and what better way to announce to the world that I am back than a hard launch.” Bruce raised an eyebrow at her, “Will it be my card you’ll continue to use.”

“Of course! It's the least my darling, idiotic, and hormone-rivaling-a-teenager husband can do after that stunt, right?” The room got colder and Dick sat up straighter at the tension between his two parental figures. Y/N has always had a sharp tongue and quick wit, one she used on Bruce a lot. Rarely ever was it aimed to be hurtful though.

“Y/N, temper.” Dick’s jaw opened and Jason made an exaggerated gasp. Alfred looked pained as Y/N whirled around and seethed at Bruce, “Temper? Temper?! Who the hell are you to tell me to watch my temper when you can’t even control your own hormones?

“If you wanted to see my temper you just had to fucking say so!” Dick turned to Alfred, trying to see if there was anything he could do, but at the resigned look the man gave him, the oldest son choked on a noise, “This is a new side of mom.”

“Lady Y/N has always had a temper, one that rivals Master Bruce.” She looked like a puffed up cat while Bruce was cowing like a dog with puppy eyes, “When they were younger, she would put even the adults in their place.” Her hand grabbed the now cold coffee pot, and Dick feels like it was only because Bruce was used to stuff being thrown at him and catching things that he was able to grab the projectile before it landed on the walls and carpet. Alfred raised a brow, “Sometimes that temper bleeds into other things.”

Their mother was seething in front of Bruce, looking like a bull and was ready to charge into a china shop. While Bruce may not be as delicate as one, Dick has money on Y/N still doing a lot of damage if she were to charge. Metaphorically and physically.

“Y/N, please.” Bruce tried again, only to see her get more angry. His hands were up in a placating manner, and Y/N held her own hands tense and ready to swing if he came closer.

“Y/N, it genuinely was an accident.”

“ ‘it genuinely was an accident’–” She mocked, purposefully making her voice annoying “-fuck off! Like your tongue going down her throat is an accident. Didn’t know that could happen!” Y/N looked around again for something to chuck, while Bruce closed the space between them inch by inch.

“What’s next? Are you going to trip and accidentally find yourself between her legs with your pants down?” Jason and Dick blanched at the imagery.

“Over a decade of marriage, of me playing the perfect ex-model-arm-candy wife for Bruce Wayne just for you dressed in a fucking furry suit to go and makeout with another fucking furry!

“Like! I know we weren’t in this for love, but there. Are. Still. Standards!” She enunciated each word with a swat of her hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

“I still have standards! You don’t see me making out with anyone else do you? Even as I’m playing Supermodel Y/N, dressed to the millions and making everyone drool, I don’t go making out with them!”

“How could Batman, of all persona’s you wish to play, do that? I expected that from Brucie, not Batman, defender of Justice or whatever bullshit you spew when dressed in that gothic suit.”

Bruce sighed, “Y/N, it was bad timing.” He gave her a hard look, “Justice and this are different. You cannot compare the two.” The man knew he messed up once the words left his mouth and he closed his eyes in regret.

Jason saw the slap coming and he braced himself for the impact it would have. Bruce didn’t catch it, despite him being fully capable of it, and when it landed everyone winced at the sound and the red mark.

“Well this is my justice. Now go away. I have a photoshoot to get ready for and you are just pissing me off!” The hand print was immaculate. One that had Jason biting back a laugh and Dick looking horrified. Y/N whirled back around to face her vanity, where all her jewelry laid on the surface, and her attention was focused back on picking which one would go with her outfit to the shoot.

Jason whistled when Bruce turned around to face his kids and Butler, “Good hit Ma. You should hit the other side to even it out.” Y/N gave a laugh, picking up the pearl earrings encased with gold, and she continued to pick out a necklace.

“Jay, help me out here please.” Rough hands replaced her’s, and green eyes met furious E/C though the mirror. Using the safety of her son’s larger frame to hide herself, Y/N slowly let herself crumble a little bit. Jason could see the anger, hurt, and sadness that was slowly turning the sclera red from holding back tears. There was a subtle shake in her shoulders and the trembling of lips, but Y/N held it together. She was holding onto it by the seams, desperately waiting for the man causing her pain to be gone.

When the gold clasped, Y/N reached over for her large hat and sunglasses, “Enjoy the beach. Alfie, you especially should enjoy this vacation. Don’t let this stupid, untrustworthy, and manwhore of a furry disrupt it.” With that, she slammed her hotel room door on her way out, and they all listened as her heels clicked down the hall until they were out of ear shot.

Alfred glanced at his ward, “Well, I am not one for violence when there are disputes between partners, but I will say that one slap was well deserved, Master Bruce.” The man sighed, slightly rubbing his cheek, “I think the last time she hit me that hard was when we were in grade school.”

“She put all her body weight into that.” Dick glanced at the hand print, “Woah, I think you can see the ring too.” Jason whistled, and Bruce closed his eyes and took deep breaths to keep himself steady, reflecting on the conversation and where exactly he messed up.

“I think this is the third time she’s slapped me…”

“Fourth, sir.” Bruce nodded, remembering the third time. Jason raised an eyebrow, “I only know of the time you were both 6, and you said something mean so she hit you.” Dick pouted, “I know of the one in Middle School, when you were once accused of touching her butt.”

Alfred raised a brow, “The third time was when she dropped you off at the manor after a long night of drinking and you—”

“Thanks Alfred, there’s no need to tell that story.” Bruce’s cheeks were now flushed from embarrassment rather than the slap on his cheek. Y/N truly has seen him through it all. When he got into fights in school, it was always her eyes he sought out after each one. Bored E/C eyes, framed by thick lashes and elegant eyeliner, always watching with a blank expression. Bruce Wayne rarely phased Y/N L/N. When he was younger, he noticed how his last name made people stumble or stutter when talking to him, allowing him to say whatever he wanted. It did nothing to Y/N, who met his gaze and taunts head on with her own witty comebacks that stuck at parts of Bruce that had him fumbling.

He can remember his dad, Thomas Wayne, laughing when he caught Y/N’s sly comeback directed at Bruce after he said something about her dress. Y/N’s own parents looked mortified.

Y/N L/N-Wayne was a flame that never wavered. It’s what made her successful at modeling, and a supermodel in her first two years. That flame is what had photographers, stylists, fashion designers, and make up artists still call her up, begging for her to come back. A force of nature that had only paused for Bruce and their children.

“C’mon, Y/N. Even you can see the benefits of this.” The woman raised her brow at a younger Bruce, who was smiling at her.

“Your life does not pause, and now with the Wayne name as yours, your options are endless.”

“And what about you?”

“This means I no longer have to play as a playboy in public and everyone will stop asking me to marry them or their daughters.” Y/N laughed, “Nah, you’ll still get them. They’ll just now be whispered behind closed doors.”

Bruce smiled, “The standards of a regular marriage will still apply. Obviously not the sex part or anything, but everything else will. Think of it like living with roommates.

“This will work for the both of us, Y/N.” The woman smiled into the rim of her cup, red lips leaving an imprint on the glass.

It took him five tries for her to finally agree. There might have been some manipulation on his side of things, but he got that ring on her finger, and 2 months later she was walking down the aisle in a wedding dress that was deemed ‘The Dress of the Century.’ She was beautiful, even more so than usual.

Dick glanced at him, “So, what’s the plan?” Bruce sighed, “Just make sure she doesn’t get hurt.”

++++

It took 4 months for Y/N to come back to the manor. Within those 4 months, one of them were always with her. Switching off when they hit a new city, and each one had tried their charm on having her come back to the mansion. Bruce was going crazy, therefore Batman was more brutal than usual, and that the meant the other birds had to pick up the slack when it came to emotions. Bruce had all but shut down every other part that wasn’t Batman.

However, nothing returned to normal once she was back. Her and Bruce were rarely in each other’s presence, and she refused to see or do anything about Batman. Y/N was trying to remove herself from Bruce Wayne completely, and no one liked that.

Bruce and Y/N may claim that they were never in love, and that they only married for convenience. However, Dick will always remember watching Bruce and Y/N dancing in the main hall of the manor. He was hanging onto the chandelier, not yet noticed by either, as a song began playing and they both began dancing.

They had been dressed in casual clothes, which consisted of dark blue jeans and nice tops and shoes. Dick’s young eyes watched as the two of them swayed and twirled around each other, Y/N laughing at the whispered words Bruce would share, and the stern man relaxing for the duration of the time.

They were far from the perfect couple. Their parenting styles were different, and it took a while for Y/N to warm up to Dick. She was never cold or malicious, but just like Dick and everyone else, she was lost. However, it was her awkward arms he sought after when he had a bad day, or when Bruce got on his nerves. It was her eyes he always seeked approval for.

When she caught him hastily packing, dying to get away from the man that had his rules tighter than the Robin suit, she helped. Y/N had folded his clothes, snuck a bottle of Smirnoff and Titos into his luggage, because moving required at least two bottles of alcohol, and she hugged him goodbye.

Every member of this family has a memory tied to Y/N. A gentle one.

Damian had kind memories, where Y/N smiled at him for no reason. She did not expect perfection, and one time she stated how she wished Damian would fail sometimes. It was something that had him seething and jumping to defend himself, but Y/N laughed, “Failure is our best teacher, Damian. What better time to fail then when you knwo you have people willing to help you up?”

Jason remembers peeking on Y/N when he was younger. Watching through the cracks of the door as she and Bruce swayed to music, laughed at old memories, or simply sat around each other and read a book. Sometimes, he’d catch her trying on her jewelry, or reorganizing her perfume. Every now and then she would go through her closet and donate clothes she no longer wanted or needed.

He watched how Dick, would seek her out whenever he and Bruce argued. When Jason finally allowed himself to be wrapped in those arms– arms that always had Bruce looking ready to sacrifice everything, that had Dick relaxing, and Alfred smiling endearingly– and he can see why they did so. It's different from Bruce, because Bruce makes you feel protected. In Bruce’s arms, Jason knows that there is almost nothing that can harm him.

In Y/N’s embrace, Jason feels at peace. There’s no need to worry about protection because he’s in a place that does not need it. When he dances with Y/N, to their song nonetheless, there is nothing that can ever disrupt the moment. Y/N stares at him with adoration, just how she does with Dick, only her attention is on him. Him! A street rat from Dowry, Crime Alley, and he has the attention of the woman that is Bruce’s equal in the highest social circles.

Those soft E/C eyes, that always stared at them with warmth and love, stared back at him through the mirror. He and Tim, because Timmy loved her just as much as he did, watched as Y/N emptied another glass of the Rose, and how the exhaustion from all the shows, photoshoots, flashing cameras, and the ordeal with Bruce seeped into her bones.

“Hey Ma, let's get some sleep.” Jason walked closer, carefully minding the scattered jewelry that looked more expensive than any of his weapons, and Tim, who was forever on the same wavelength as Jason, scampered over to the large bed and lit the diffuser.

Y/N hummed, running her hands through her hair, before tilting her head back and looking at Jason once more, “You both shouldn’t be here. I can handle this myself.” Y/N never liked it when any of the kids saw her less than presentable. She was always dressed in nice clothes, with nice jewelry, and makeup even at the manor. It's one of the worries of being a model, she had told Dick, always scared that the nosey paparazzi will catch you at your worst and share it with an even crueler audience.

Jason had once confided in her about Willis Todd, and how he hated it when she drank in front of him. Whether it was scotch or champagne.

After that, Y/N always drank in her room.

The thing is, that Jason knows Y/N wouldn’t ever hurt him. She’s not like Willis who purposefully seeked out to hurt someone smaller. Jason knows that no matter how mad she got at him, she wouldn’t do anything (unlike what she would do to Bruce).

This is why, despite all the trauma he has with alcohol and people being intoxicated, he can confidently move the bottle away and the glass. Noting how both were empty.

Tim strolled over, and gave a small smile through the mirror, “I’ll brush your hair, Mom. Then you should sleep.” Y/N tried to wave him off, “Don’t bother. I can do it myself. You both should go.” She sluggishly reached out for the vintage decorated paddle brush, only for Tim to snatch it before she could.

“I want to do it. Besides, if it bothers you, think of it as me returning the favor.” The confused look Y/N gave him had him smiling patiently as he stood behind her and gently began to brush the locks of hair. Y/N sighed, “This is embarrassing. My kids should not be taking care of me.”

“I’m an adult.”

“CEO of Wayne Enterprises as well. Taking care of you when you are in a low spot is the least I could do.” Lord knows how many times Y/N has cared for them at their lowest. When Tim believed that Bruce was stuck in the Time Stream, Y/N didn’t seem all that confident in it, but she still believed him and helped him narrow down locations. She kept the press busy while he went out and searched.

He heard later that she refused to talk to Dick when she found out they wanted to put Tim in Arkham. She shook her head in disappointment when Dick told her that Damien is now Robin. Tim always thought Dick was a bit stupid on that part. Parading Damien, a child from another woman, around and in front of Y/N nonetheless. Yes, thankfully Y/N warmed up to Damien and vice versa (although for Damien it took longer), but that could have gone bad in so many ways.

“Still my kids.” Jason pulled a chair next to her, so they could all be in the view of the mirror, and in a rare show of affection that is only reserved for Alfred and Y/N, he rested his head on her shoulder as Tim continued to work the brush carefully through her hair. Y/N’s shoulders sagged and her back hunched a bit, and for the first time in a while, Y/N let herself look how she felt. Exhausted. Utterly and completely exhausted.

Tim can see the dark circles under her red rimmed eyes, and the way her skin looked duller than usual. Granted, she finished a long gig, working tirelessly for months posing, getting dressed up, and traveling around the world to forget Bruce’s infidelity.

‘Standards,’ she said in response to his excuse. Tim isn’t stupid to believe that neither Bruce or Y/N have feelings for the other. He’s seen it. It's in the way that Bruce concedes in arguments, or the flowers and necklaces he buys her when he’s apologetic, how the harsh glare that was directed at Tim when he first became Robin eased the moment Y/N pulled the boy close to her. Acting as a shield and sword for him.

Her message was clear, and Bruce decided to read it.

Y/N on the other hand lessened Bruce’s stress when he was CEO, the breaks from brooding to dance in the main hall to their song, or even acting as the sound of reason for him. She keeps him tethered to Earth, never letting his thoughts stray too far from reality.

They may not be in love, but they still liked each other. Enough so that Bruce went along with her whims, just how she does with him. Enough so for Bruce to chase her across the world. Looking at it, perhaps Bruce was the one in love.

“Jason, can you pass me the scrunchie?” He grabbed the silk scrunchie from large hands, and began braiding his mom’s hair.

“You guys are being so silly,” Y/N huffed, and Jason beamed at her, giving her a boyish smile that he never shows anymore, “Anything for ya, Ma.” She subtly shook her head, a smile on her face as she looked back into the mirror.

“Is this still about Bruce?” Tim kept his eyes on the braid, but from the tension in her shoulders, he hit the jackpot. Y/N brought her hand up to rub her forehead, “That idiot…”

“Join the club, Ma.” Y/N took a deep breath, “He’s so stupid. It’s one thing to kiss another woman, which is fine. Do what you want to do, it’s not like we married for love.” A glare formed on her face, “But to get caught is another thing. Fucking idiot, he can only think with his hormones like a teenager. Even Dami isn’t like that, thank god.”

Tim tied off the braid with the silk scrunchie, watching Y/N get heated again, “I hate him.” Except it was said with no bite, and the way Y/N’s lip wobbled had Tim hearing other words alongside the ones she mumbled. Jason leaned into her, offering her comfort while Tim watched from the reflection in the mirror.

Y/N to Tim was what Janet Drake had failed to be. He learned a lot from both of them, and it helped that both women were huge players in their social circles and socialites. They both taught him how to play with people’s perception of someone. Only Janet taught him to keep a straight face and not show emotion, while Y/N taught him that with a correct smile and a well placed chuckle, someone can be eating out of the palm of their hands. Both women approached the world with different weapons and tools, and both women used and taught them to him.

Only Y/N also knew when it was time to put down the mask and become a reliable person for Tim, while Janet continued to only be Janet to Tim.

He loves them both. Except, with Y/N he felt that if she were to ever leave him the way Janet did then he would have no choice but to follow and bring her back. Wherever Y/N goes, Tim will follow.

“Boys.” Jason and Tim snapped their attention to the door, and Bruce was standing there, menacingly longingly. His face in an unusual expression, but one he’s worn a lot throughout the time Y/N was gone. An expression all the boys have gotten to know. Tim escaped, saying goodnight to both parental figures, before leaving for the cave.

Jason pecked Y/N’s cheek, whispering good night and glaring at Bruce, “Don’t fuck this up old man.” To which Bruce sighed and nodded, closing the door after Jason. For the first time in months, it was just Y/N and Bruce. Alone with each other’s company and Bruce knows that if she could, she’d probably be strangling him right now.

With great hesitancy, one that he could never show as Batman, he sat on the bed about a foot away from her.

“I paused my life for you.” Y/N glared into blue eyes, “I paused almost everything, for you. For your mission. For the children you brought into our home, without asking me about it beforehand, may I remind you. I love them, and don’t you dare twist that, but I would have liked to have been consulted about it first.” Y/N didn’t want to be a mother. It was never in the cards for her, and yet here she is having more children than she had ever dreamt of.

She loves them. She’d die and kill for them, but they were never in the cards of life she wanted dealt to her.

“I paused so much, just for you to go and.. And… and do that.” Bruce winced at that, and Y/N felt happy that he did. Gritting her teeth, Y/N turned her attention to look at the fire. The heat of it reminds her of her own rage and the coldness she feels when in the presence of Bruce.

Sighing heavily, she closed her eyes and bit back a groan, “And once I start getting my life started again, having fun, going on the runway and magazines, here you come storming back.”

“You looked like you needed the break.” Y/N shook her head, “Did you know, that that is one of your worst habits. Always making yourself out to be the hero.” She took a glass of wine and watched the liquid swirl in the glass, “Of course, you let me have that moment. Of course you were thinking of me, and my happiness. How kind of you.”

Bruce sighed, watching her sip the alcohol that left a red stain on her lips. He can remember the first time he saw her in red lipstick. Shockingly, it was in-person and the red made her skin look warm and teeth appear even whiter despite the knowledge that red lipstick can make your teeth look yellower. It was a beautiful shade, matched by her dress.

She was beautiful. Breathtakingly so. Even as time progressed and she and he got older, Y/N remained beautiful. Defying the laws time and age as she remained ethereal. Unfairly so.

Bruce had wanted to preserve that beauty, in the same way that many tried to preserve the flowers from the garden and the expensive smelling perfume. He wanted nothing more than for Y/N to continue smiling and for the fire to remain bright.

To do that, he had to stay away. He could not allow himself to love her, because if he fell then he would drag her through the mud with him. Yet, here he is on the other side of that cold look, one that had him hesitating. That kiss with Selena was terrible timing all around. She had caught him in a moment of weakness, and someone just so happened to be there at the worst moment to catch it all.

Staying away proved to be ineffective when here she is drinking wine with red-rimmed eyes and anger in her brows.

“This marriage was never one for love, but there are standards. Ones we talked about beforehand.”

“I know.” Y/N pursed her lips, tilting her head to the left and watching Bruce with distrustful eyes. The man sighed heavily and he sat in front of her, taking his own glass and pouring himself some wine. He didn’t like this type of wine, and from the very small scrunch in her nose Y/N didn’t like it either.

The more he stared at her, taking in her still youthful features and eyes that burned bright, the more he could feel his emotions rising to the surface. Feelings and emotions he long tried to bury, but never quite succeeded. He had hoped that kissing Selena would just prove that he is only missing her as a sexual partner, and it only confirmed for him that he was in love with her.

He is in love with Y/N L/N-Wayne. His kids are in love with Y/N. Alfred loves Y/N. The whole Wayne family, extended and all, are in love with this woman. This woman has nothing to do with their vigilantism, but instead reminds them that they are also normal and exist outside of masks and costume. That they are human and not shadows of the night.

That they are the Wayne family.

God, he loves her so much. So much. She is his weakness, his strength, his everything. The fancy cufflinks that are only brought out for special occasions, the expensive wine cracked open for celebrations, the pearl earring worn for the best performances. Y/N is the treasure of the Wayne family.

Carefully, he wrapped an arm around her waist, slowly inching his way around her, testing the waters to see if she would shake him off or hiss at him. When there was no sign of that, he tightened his hold only slightly and pressed his forehead into her shoulder, gently laying a kiss on the joint, “Like I said, it was an accident. She caught me at a bad time, and I wasn’t expecting her to do that.”

Y/N released a heavy sigh, and Bruce hugged her tighter, “I swear. It wasn’t consensual.” She rubbed her forehead, and Bruce watched how the lines slowly faded and melted back into her skin. Y/N never wore exhaustion well, which was why on mornings she had early photoshoots, she would sleep in her room instead of Bruce’s. She always woke up when he would stalk in and climb under the sheets with her.

“Please, Y/N. Give me a chance. Let me take care of you the way you should be.” Y/N chuckled at that, “Careful Bruce, keep saying stuff like that and I might start to believe you have feelings for me.” Ice blue met E/C, and Y/N hesitated for a moment. Something chilling going down her spine, “I guess, I should start saying it more often then.”

“Bruce…” He pecked her cheek, careful of the fire he was playing with, and carefully watching her reactions. His arms encircled her tighter, and he kissed her shoulder. Bruce watched, and observed how the tension slowly left her and reluctant acceptance came across her face. His arms tightened, and Bruce fought back a smile.

“Ever the charmer,” She mumbled. Bruce huffed a laugh, and Y/N shook her head, “If I catch you with your mouth on anyone else’s but mine, I’m going to sick the kids on you.” An image of four rabid dogs, followed by a few more, filled his mind. Bruce grimaced as he remembered the tongue lashing he got from everyone, “Noted.”

Y/N chuckled, and Bruce smiled, throwing his weight back on the pillows, bringing Y/N with him. His arms still tight around her waist, and a promise on his lips.

‘I’ll never let you go again.’

________________________________________________

Not super Yandere, but it is getting there.

#yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere dc #platonic yandere #batfam #platonic batfam #yandere dick grayson #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne #yandere bruce wayne #yandere jason todd

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peachsayshi · 3 months ago

Text

// brutally soft // I.

baby daddy!sukuna x reader

tags: non curse au; fluff; tension; reader and sukuna are co-parents; girl dad sukuna; mentions troubled past with sukuna; alludes to significant size different | wc: 1,653 | read this for more context

note: I hope I got the honorifics right lol please correct me if I didn't

dni if your blog is blank / ageless / or are a minor

You didn’t think it was possible for a five year old to render you speechless, nor did you think she was capable of making your former lover blush the deepest shade of tomato red. You part your lips in surprise, stunned as you look down at her innocent expression. She’s sitting on your living room floor, her face perched on her palms with her elbows resting against the coffee table. Her wide eyes drift between you and Sukuna sitting on the sofa, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she tilts her head slightly out of intrigue.

“Mama?” She presses, begging for an answer.

Your mouth moves but no words come out. You’re trying to formulate a proper response that’s palatable for her, one that will be enough to subdue any further questions.

Except you’re not quite sure how to answer: “why don’t you and daddy ever kiss?” without making her pry even more into your history with her father.

Sukuna runs his large palms back and forth nervously over his thigh, the muscles on his inked forearms tensing up.

“We kiss,” you fib, because what else are you supposed to say, “of course we do!”

Your daughter’s face falters, and she quirks her brow as sassily as her father when they both mirror the same expression to look at you.

You glance back at Sukuna, giving him an awkward smile because at least you said something all the while he just sat there.

“No, you don’t…” your daughter insists.

“Yeah, yeah that’s right…we do…of course, we do…” Sukuna pipes in with a mumble, finally catching on to your attempts as he reverts his attention on to his precious girl.

“I’ve never seen it,” she points out with a pout, scolding her father playfully in return.

“That’s because we don’t do it in front of you,” Sukuna remarks. “Besides, who wants to see their parents kiss?”

His daughter rolls her eyes, “all other mommies and daddies do it, except you guys. It makes no sense…”

She’s got the tiniest voice and the softest lisp, but her attitude is entirely her father. She’s bold and blunt, never afraid to say exactly what she’s thinking or to point the obvious.

“Oji-san kisses oba-san in front of Shiro…” she mumbles, dropping both her hands onto the coffee table and crumpling the paper that she is using to draw her little family portrait.

At the mention of his younger brother Sukuna can’t help but grimace. Yuji was incredibly affectionate towards his wife, wearing his heart on his sleeve entirely which just makes Sukuna grumble with annoyance. He’s always been a little envious of his younger brother, who never had to face the world as harshly as Sukuna. With an eleven year gap between them, Sukuna witnessed his parents becoming actual parents. They were young when they had him, and therefore had no clue what it took to raise or take care of a child. Sukuna was caught in the middle of their relationship for most of his childhood, all the while Yuji got to see the peaceful harmony once they finally made up.

“I’m just saying…” your daughter adds on, “…it’s weird.”

You breathe out a sigh in defeat, knowing full well that she won’t let go of the subject until she gets some consolation.

So incredibly stubborn just like her dad.

Without considering the repercussions, you reach your hand out and clutch Sukuna’s chin delicately between your fingers. You tilt his head towards you, noticing the slow register of your touch wash over his face as you lean up to kiss his cheek.

However, you misjudged your aim, because Sukuna tilted his head down in return, and you wound up leaving a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth instead.

Your lips lingered for only a few seconds, three to be exact, before you retracted and turned towards your daughter.

“See?” You insist, holding onto Sukuna’s chin like it’s evidence between your fingers. “We kiss!”

Your daughter’s mouth forms into a line, clearly unimpressed. The older she’s getting the more she’s picking up on the little things that you guys were hiding so well.

But it’s still way too complicated, and you and Sukuna haven't even discussed how to approach this yet.

“I guess,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders, before returning to her drawing.

You didn’t even know that Sukuna has his focus still locked onto your lips tuntil you turn to look back at him.His gaze is soft, the muscles of his handsome features melting between your touch. There’s a hint of sorrow that twinkles in his eyes, and when you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth apologetically, you notice that you left a lipstick stain in your wake.

“Sorry,” you mouth, and carefully use your thumb to swipe over the mark.

But your heart seizes quickly, your spine growing still when Sukuna mildly inches forward like he’s about to go in for another kiss.

You remember what it was like to kiss him. He was an exceptionally good kisser, even though he probably doesn’t know it himself. You’ve spent hours losing time locked against those lips, allowing his tongue to taste every last drop of you.

There’s a twitch in your chest, everything around you going quiet. Heat pricks the back of your neck when his lips draw just a breath away from yours, and you swear to yourself that he grazed over your mouth with a featherlight touch.

But Sukuna stops suddenly, catching himself.

“Be right back,” he whispers, his voice dipping so low you can’t help but clench your thighs together.

He shoots up from his seat, detangling quickly as he brushes you off, and leaving you to stare aimlessly at his broad back and overbearing muscles. Your sofa suddenly appears a lot larger with all that free space.

You press both hands to your cheeks, licking your lips as the apprehension runs through you as a cold chill. You can’t even remember when was the last time you kissed the father of your child, but you didn’t think that such a small act would have such a lingering effect.

You thought you were over this. Over him. That chapter was closed a long, long time ago.

You look up at the cause of this unexpected interaction, your daughter’s short attention span keeping her focused on her doodle while she hums to herself.

Sukuna returns with his head held high a few minutes after, and plops down on the sofa with his weight prompting you to bounce lightly in place.

That’s when you felt it, a hint of cold hitting your brow like a tiny droplet of rain.

Your furrow your brows then notice that your Sukuna’s hair is actually damp, with little tears trickling down the back of his neck.

The tips of his ears are still burning red.

You part your lips in awe.

Sukuna is a master at making you blush. At making any woman blush, frankly. But you don’t think you’ve ever actually seen that reaction on him.

It stuns you how much it suits him, and surprises you even more of just how cute he looks trying to hide it.

“Daddy, can you help me?” Your daughter asks, finally focusing back on the two of you while her finger draws out an outline of what appears to be two arms.

“Whatever you want, Princess…” Sukuna responds, and obediently gets up from his seat.

He perches himself on the floor, the size difference between him and your little girl doing nothing to help the sudden hammering in your chest.

He’s so, so gentle with her.

She crawls onto his lap, holding the sheet of paper in her hand, before setting herself back up while sitting on his thighs.She points to the drawing with her index finger, “I don’t know how to draw your tattoos…”

Sukuna chuckles, a glimpse of his smile making you to scratch the warmth off the back of your neck.

He picks up a black pencil, “you’re a better artist than me, kid,” he states honestly, “not quite sure what I can do to help…”

She wraps her arms around his neck, leaving her dad to carry on the effort.

“I’ll explain the shapes and you draw it!” She says with a kiss to his cheek.

It’ll never cease to amaze you how easily he bends to her will. Sukuna had no interest in any of this, and was obstinate in every sense of the word. Nothing could turn that man into a docile cat except when it comes to your little girl. He’s present with her, this part of him just so different, and even after five years it still feels a tad unfamiliar.

There’s a slight tightness in your throat because this is all you wanted when you were together. After the break up and surprise pregnancy, you didn’t realize how hard he took it when you told him that you have zero expectations of him being involved in your daughter’s life. You were just informing him out of moral obligation, but something switched on inside him after that.

It may not have been for you, but he made that change for her, and seeing them together now, you recognize just how much that man loves his little girl.

That fact alone makes you undeniably happy.

So happy you wish you could give him a real kiss for it.

Your daughter moves to pat his head in gesture of a good job as Sukuna follows her instructions to the T, but her faces scrunches with disgust when she threads her fingers between his locks.

“Daddy, why is your hair wet?”

Sukuna brings his free hand to massage the back of her scalp, “Pay attention to the drawing, missy…and stop asking so many damn, I mean uh-darn questions…” he responds, leaving a kiss on her brow and doing everything in his power to make sure that he avoids looking back at you.

tag: @selarina @yuujispinkhair @blush-bambi @tojislittleprincesss

#baby daddy sukuna x reader au #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x y/n #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna fluff

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teamred · 3 months ago

Text

so contagious

✩‌ logan howlett/wolverine x reader | fluff | smut | 2.8k

SUMMARY | following the kissing from your movie night, logan takes you out on a proper date, while you take him back to your place afterwards. // part two of any other way

WARNINGS | smut, breastplay, oral s*x (female receiving), piv s*x, unprotected s*x // this is 70% fluff - 30% smut!

RATING | explicit

NOTES | i didn't intend to make a part two, but so many of you loved it, i had to give it a shot! this one is from logan's perspective. yes, i know this logan is a bit ooc, but, in my head, this takes place some time after worst!logan enters wade's universe and he's softened up. please leave some love if you enjoy it!

Logan has absolutely no idea what he's doing.

Standing in front of the living room mirror, he debates if he should choose the pale blue plaid shirt he's currently wearing or one of his brown ones instead. But if he chooses the latter, it'd be too similar to the one he wore when you saw him yesterday.

Overthinking isn't his style, and yet here he is, obsessing over something as trivial as his shirt color. It’s been decades since he’s been on a proper date, maybe even ever.

“Well, don't you look handsome,” Wade cuts through his thoughts with a grin and folded arms, peeling himself away from the kitchen door frame. He saunters over, reaching out to touch Logan’s hair, only for the larger man to shove him away immediately.

“Not now, Wade.”

Wade sniffs his hand dramatically. “Oh, my God–you even used hair product! This is so exciting. It's like witnessing a teenager on his first date. I feel like your mom!”

“Well, Mom,” Logan refocuses on the mirror, fixing the mess Wade made of his hair, “you can fuck off.”

Wade points a finger at him with mock sternness. “Hey, watch your language, young man.”

Then, to Logan’s surprise, Wade grows momentarily quiet as he stands next to him, both facing the mirror. “Also, the blue shirt’s the better choice.”

“Yeah?” Logan quirks an eyebrow, glancing over at the brown plaid shirts laid out on the couch.

“Yeah,” replies Wade softly, and Logan catches a genuine smile in the mirror. The heartfelt moment doesn’t last long though when Wade claps him on the back. “And don’t be so nervous, Wolvie. You already went to second base with her last night. The deal’s pretty much sealed.”

Logan scowls. “I’m not nervous.”

“Mm-hmm. You say that, but you’re being even more testy than usual. Dare I blame it on the hormones?” Suddenly, he plants a quick kiss on Logan’s cheek.

“What the fuck?!”

Logan recoils, then almost lunges at him instinctively. However, Wade’s already retreating and walking backwards, making a beeline to his bedroom with a wave of his hand.

“Be back by curfew, sweetie! But text me if you’ll be out late, or if you need anything. Some snacks, some condoms—”

“Wade!” he growls, his patience wearing thin.

Wade blows an air kiss, disappearing into his room. “Love ya! And you got this!”

Logan mumbles to himself, “Yeah, I sure hope so.”

Turning to the mirror for one final check, he adjusts his collar and straightens his shirt. His phone vibrates on the living room table and he reads the incoming texts from Laura:

- hey sorry for the late reply - but if you haven’t gone out already, i prefer the blue over the brown - not that it matters though - she’ll find you handsome either way - don’t worry! it’ll go well :)

Logan nods, reassured by Laura’s texts. It’s just a date with someone he’s already known for a little while; it’s not like a blind date or anything. He can do this.

With one last look in the mirror to check his hair and beard, he grabs his keys and wallet, slings his dark brown leather jacket over his shoulder, and heads out the door.

Logan pulls up in front of your apartment complex and gives you a quick call to let you know he’s here. When you step out of the building, his eyes can’t help but sweep over you—fitted jeans hugging your curves, an off-the-shoulder top that shows just enough, and that stunning smile that lights up your face.

He notices you checking him out too. Realizing that his hair might be messy, he quickly combs his fingers through it as you stroll over.

“Long time, no see,” you joke, referencing how you saw him just yesterday.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Logan greets, trying to sound more relaxed than he feels. He holds a helmet out to you, but catches how his grip is more tense than usual. “You ready for a ride?”

You nod, eyes sparkling with excitement. As he steps away from his bike to help you with the helmet, he finds it endearing how you lift your chin and pout a little, making it easier for him to secure the straps. He hopes his touch isn’t too rough, but when your eyes meet his and you smile up at him, he knows he must be doing something right.

With his hands so close to your face, his mind flashes to how he palmed your cheeks and neck last night as he kissed you deeply. It’s presumptuous, but he hopes for a repeat tonight.

Once you hop on the bike behind him and wrap your arms snugly around his waist, he revels in the warmth of your body against his. As he weaves through the city streets, he occasionally glances back to make sure you’re comfortable.

Logan thinks to himself how good this feels, to ride around freely with someone he cares for by his side. It’s been awhile since he’s let someone get this close to him…

Maybe he could get used to this.

Eventually, he pulls up at an old diner he’s grown fond of across town. The place gives him a sense of nostalgia, a reminder of simpler times (and, even though he tries not to think of it, it also brings back memories of that one time with Wade in the Void).

He offered to take you here because it’s familiar, cozy, and he didn’t want to overthink this date with reservations to some high-end restaurant.

Walking across the mostly empty restaurant, a waitress leads you both to a window booth, where you sit across from each other.

At first, there’s a bit of awkwardness—Logan recommends what’s good on the menu, and you take a moment to decide what to order. His foot taps on the floor as he peeks over the menu, sitting in the silence uncomfortably.

But once the waitress takes your orders, conversation flows more easily, just like it normally does at Wade’s get-togethers.

You check in with how Laura’s doing, if he and Wade have been on any more assignments recently, and how his motorcycle is running since he fixed it last.

Logan’s grateful you’re leading the conversation and asking questions; it’s always been easier for him to listen than to talk.

But he’s putting in effort tonight—he takes it upon himself to know about your life outside of work, if you’ve been reading anything lately, and how you felt about the ride over to the diner.

“A little scary, but it was fun!” you grin, resting your chin in your palm. “I’m just glad it’s you driving it. Like I said yesterday, I always feel comfortable and safe around you, Logan.”

As your foot brushes against his under the table, Logan’s gaze meets yours. You flash him a shy smile, and before he can think twice, his foot instinctively strokes yours in return. A flicker of doubt crosses his mind—Is this the kind of thing people do on dates?—but your soft giggles melt away his hesitation. The lighthearted game continues until the arrival of your food.

You dig into your food, and a random thought crosses your mind. “Have you ever used your claws to cut your food?”

Logan pauses mid-bite, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and amusement. “You know, in all of my two-hundred years of living, I’ve never really thought to try it.”

“Probably ‘cause you always have a knife around,” you say.

“Probably,” he smirks. With a glint in his eyes, he unsheathes his claws and the sound makes you jump slightly in your seat.

“Whoa,” you whisper, eyes widening in awe. Logan realizes you’ve never seen them before. Slowly, he extends his hand, the blades gleaming under the diner lights.

“Go ahead,” says Logan softly. “Just be careful.”

You reach out carefully, your fingers grazing the cool, polished metal. You’re both unusually quiet, your attention fully on each other.

Once you pull away, he turns back to his plate with a slight grin. “Okay, let’s see how this goes.”

With surprising finesse, he slices through his burger using his claws, the action both impressive and a little absurd to witness.

You burst into laughter, the sound contagious as he joins in. “Logan, I think you need to stop before you break the plate.”

He chuckles, retracting his claws and grabbing a sliced up chunk of his burger. “Yeah, probably a good idea. At least we know the answer to that question now.”

As you move on to dessert, you savor a slice of cheesecake while Logan indulges in a slice of apple pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. When he’s almost done, Logan takes a slow lick off his spoon and catches you staring at him.

“What’s on your mind, beautiful?” he asks with a playful smile, raising an eyebrow as he takes another bite of pie.

You scarf down the last few bites of your cheesecake before answering.

“Okay, I have to ask—” you lower your voice and lean in across the table “—can you actually smell how horny someone is?”

Logan freezes mid-chew, remembering what happened yesterday before you left.

“Fucking Wade…” he mutters, shaking his head. After a beat, he sighs. “Do I really have to answer that question?”

You gasp, covering your mouth with both hands. “Oh, my God, you totally can…”

All Logan gives you is a brief laugh and a shake of his head. He fishes for his wallet, tosses some cash onto the table, and then stands up with a grin. “C’mon, gorgeous. Let’s get outta here.”

As he pulls you to your feet, you ask half suspiciously and half in jest, “Are you saying that because you can smell something or…?”

“Maybe, maybe not...” he teases. He grabs your hand, fingers intertwining with yours, and leads you to the door. “Either way, let’s head out. C’mon.”

As you step outside and Logan helps you with your helmet again, you look up at him with a different look this time than before—one that signifies that the night’s only beginning.

As you fumble with your keys in front of your apartment door, Logan steps in from behind and grips one side of your waist. He leans in, pulling you close, and kisses the crook in your neck. You inhale sharply, losing focus as you melt into his touch.

After you finally manage to unlock the door, Logan quickly shuts the door behind him before he presses you up against the wall. Initially, you share an intense kiss, but it soon becomes fervent and open-mouthed. Rough edges of his beard even brush against your lips at some points.

Both parties quickly kick off their shoes. He peels off his leather jacket and aids you with yours. Still lip-locked, he then lifts you up and has you wrap your legs around his waist; his evident desire presses against your body.

Logan drags your top off, his heated kisses trailing from your mouth, to your neck, and down to your clavicle. His mouth leaves love upon your breasts before he pushes your strapless bra down. You gasp as his push is so rough, the bra merely snaps off and falls away towards the floor.

But Logan doesn’t stop—he hones his attention towards your hardened tips, sucking and nipping with a fervor that makes him lose himself in you.

The moans that fill your entryway only drive him crazy further, along with your fingers tugging at his hair tightly. His hands are needy, kneading your other breast with a blend of tender and strength. After a moment, he pulls back, gently setting your legs back onto the floor.

He kisses his way down from your breasts to your stomach, dropping to his knees in front of you. Logan blinks up at you as he helps unbutton your jeans, pulling them and your panties off and tossing them aside. The sight of you, completely bare and vulnerable, only heightens his desire.

He kisses your inner thigh, his breath hot against your skin as he moves towards your core. The scent of your arousal is unmistakable and intoxicating, but it’s the way your body reacts to him that drives him wild. Lifting one of your legs over his shoulders, he dives in without hesitation, his tongue exploring your wetness.

His tongue skillfully works over your most sensitive areas, each touch and flick of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through you. Logan is so immersed in the moment, he feels like he's freefalling, lost in the intensity of it all.

The need to be inside you drives him to a point of near frenzy, his own body responding with instinctive thrusts. Each lick and suck against your folds is fuelled by both the need to make you feel good and to be desperately inside of you.

“Logan, Logan—”

You shatter and unravel for him, jerking your hips against his mouth. He holds you still, securing your orgasm rides out fully. Once you do, he stands up and kisses you gently, intermingling your taste with his tongue.

Dazed, you hook your fingers with a couple of his and lead him towards your bedroom. You lay yourself on the bed first, while he watches you as he strips his shirt and tank top. He sees the inflamed hunger in your eyes at the sight of his entirety.

Crawling over to you on the bed, his hands roam your body, caressing you passionately before the next part. When he finally undoes his jeans and belts and throws them aside, he looks at you intently.

“Do you have—?”

You shush him with a finger, whispering, “Just get inside me, Logan.”

A smirk spreads across his face as he aligns himself with your slit, teasing you slightly before sliding in. Being inside you draws out a low groan from him, while you throw your head back and expel a long moan.

When you finally acclimatize to his girth, he starts to thrust slowly and kisses you throughout. It’s so easy for him to lose control, to get this over and done with, but he wants to make sure it feels good for you as it does for him.

But it doesn’t help when your hands dig into his back and your walls clench harder around him.

“Faster, please,” you beg.

He checks in with a smug grin, cocking his head slightly. “You sure, gorgeous?”

You nod breathlessly, “Please, Logan.”

And that’s enough to make him lose all restraint. He picks up the pace, his movements becoming more intense and primal. His thumb circles your clit, and the combination of his hard thrusts and gentle touch brings you over the edge in unison. He ensures you’re satisfied first before he pulls out and marks you with his release.

Panting, he catches his breath, and grazes the back of his knuckles against your thigh. Logan turns to look at you. “You ready for round two, beautiful?”

You laugh with disbelief and exhilaration. “Wait, round two alr—?”

Logan cuts you off with a deep kiss, his grin wide and satisfied. He feels you smiling into his kiss, your excitement matching his own.

Oh yeah—he definitely could get used to this.

EPILOGUE — ONE WEEK LATER

Back at Wade, Logan, and Blind Al’s apartment during another weekend get-together, you’re seated next to Logan at the dining room table, caught up in a quiet conversation with him amidst the animated chaos around you.

Suddenly, Wade appears behind you, throwing his arms around you both and playfully squishing you together.

“Say ‘thank you, Mommy Wade for our beautiful dating life and we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you and I’m gonna name our kid after you and—’”

“What the hell is happening?” you cut in, looking at your new boyfriend.

“Just ignore him, baby,” Logan groans, shaking his head.

“Already using terms of endearment? Y’all move fast,” Wade quips. “And is that any way to treat the person who got you two lovebirds together?”

“Hey, I helped too,” Laura interjects from Logan’s side.

Wade waves her off dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. You might’ve mentioned something here and there, but I saw the vision, and not Wanda’s, might I add.”

“I’m not gonna call you ‘Mommy Wade,’ but I will thank you.” You lean over and give him a quick peck on the cheek. He gasps theatrically and ruffles your hair with exaggerated affection. Times like these remind you why Wade has always been one of your closest friends.

“Well,” says Wade, as he steps back to return to his seat, “at least one of you appreciates Cupid Wade’s handiwork.”

Later, while you’re chatting with Yukio and Ellie, you notice out of the corner of your eye Logan and Wade exchanging glances across the room. Logan gives Wade a small, grateful nod.

“Thank you, Wade,” Logan mouths, his expression soft and sincere.

“Anytime, Wolvie,” Wade mouths back with a wink, raising his beer in a mock toast.

You catch Logan’s eye, and both of you share a smile that speaks more than words ever could.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fluff #logan howlett fluff #wolverine smut #logan howlett smut

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