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wriokitty · 1 month ago

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i adore you (can’t you see you’re meant for me?) — ft. sylus

sylus likes to sleep late in the mornings, and you like to admire him. the two are just a series of steps that bring you to where you are now: on top of him

❤︎ word count: 4.7k words — it’s literally all pure filth with no plot idk what to say atp

❤︎ before you read: female reader ; established relationship ; sleepy sylus ; banter and teasing ; reader rides his abs (do not look at me) ; praise kink (it goes both ways tbh) ; blow jobs ; cum eating ; reader has an obsession with his veins (it is her not me okay?) ; sylus wraps his hand around her throat (but no choking) ; body worship + one clit kiss ; nipple play ; morning sex ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie ; do not be fooled it is all pretty soft i promise

❤︎ comments: i am new to this game and i haven’t gotten too far go easy on me for this one :( i dedicate this to all my sylus loving nonnies in my inbox thanks for helping me figure out this game LOL. and kass. ily kass

Sylus sleeps more when the sun is out than when it’s not. You don’t mind it so much—not when the view is what it is.

(He’s pretty, and so is the sun. The two combined make for an even prettier picture. You think, if you weigh your options, there are certainly worse things out there than sitting beside your sleeping boyfriend and waiting for him to wake up.)

It’s hard to keep your hands to yourself, though. His hair is too tempting not to brush away from his face. And while your hand is right there, it’s a little impossible not to cup his cheek for a moment. And, well, if you’re already touching him, you might as well let your hand slide down to his chest and rub circles against the skin. He leans into your touch subconsciously anyway—it’s not hurting him. It’s helping.

(You like telling yourself plenty of things to justify your hand and his skin having an early morning rendezvous.)

“Bored, sweetie?” His voice is always deeper when laced with sleep than it usually tends to be. You stiffen, moving to pull your hand away, an apology already prepared on your lips for waking him when he catches your wrist, eyes still closed. “I didn’t say to stop, did I?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you huff, letting him guide your hand back to his bare chest. It rises and falls slowly, so warm and firm under your palm that it’s a little dizzying.

“Am I?” He cracks an eye open, “I was just enjoying a little tenderness. I wonder why I can’t ever seem to receive something so sweet when I’m awake.”

“Precisely this reason,” you say flatly. He raises a smug brow. Just to humor him, you add, “Your ego can’t handle it when you’re awake.”

“What, that you find me too irresistible not to touch?”

“Sylus, go back to sleep,” you grumble, shuffling away from him with a face that feels unbearably hot under his half-lidded gaze. “You’re easier to get along with that way.”

“I don’t know,” he all but purrs. In a swift motion—swift enough that you let out a shrill squeal—his hand tugs at your arm and pulls you close enough that he can hoist your body to sit on his lower belly. “We get along pretty well when we’re wide awake, don’t you think?”

His hand hikes up your (well, technically his) shirt and rests on your hip, nothing but the thin fabric of your panties separating you from him as you’re seated on top of him. You shiver lightly when his thumb caresses your hip bone, a satisfied hum pulling from his throat at the feeling of goosebumps rising against your skin.

“Sylus,” you breathe, squirming over him—but you can’t say much else because you cut yourself off with a soft gasp when you hear the distinct sound of something tearing.

Fabric.

More specifically, your fabric. Your underwear—which was a rather nice pair too, you think woefully—is torn into two pieces, one held in Sylus’s hand like some form of victory, while the other falls against his belly with nothing holding it together around your hips.

You blink. He gives you a large Cheshire grin.

“Sorry, sweetie,” he says, not so apologetically, “They were just in the way.”

“I liked those!” You hiss, glaring at him, “They were nice!”

“What, you don’t think I can buy you more? I could buy them faster than I could rip them, I’m sure.”

You have your doubts about that last part—but it’s still persuasive enough that you’re no longer as mad as you were just a moment ago. But you’re still petulant, pouting as you huff, “You ruin everything.”

“Mmh,” he hums, closing his eyes, voice still a low drawl from sleep as he says, “Are you sure? Because I can feel you dripping already, sweetheart.”

Shame floods your system quickly, but lust is faster. Stronger, too, perhaps—because you don’t have it in you to be ashamed for too long before you grow impatient. With a deeper pout, you press your hands against his chest, leaning lower until your mouth hovers over his.

“Can you blame me?” You breathe against his lips. “Just look at you.”

He stiffens. Just barely, of course. Just enough that you can hardly even detect it, but you do. You do because you know him. And you know that when Sylus teases, it’s really just to deflect from his need to shift the attention to yours—like he doesn’t want you just as bad. Like he’s not just as hard as you are wet in his boxers. Like he doesn’t need to feel you just as badly as you need to feel him.

But he likes to keep the upper hand. It starts with two hands on your hips, firmly squeezing them before slowly rocking them against his abs. Your bare cunt (courtesy of him destroying a perfectly good pair of panties) glides along the ridges and indents of his muscle. Very well-defined ridges and indents of muscle, too. You tense, letting out a shaky gasp as your clit rubs against his hard-planed physique.

“If you like it so much, why stop at just a look?” He chuckles, “You’re more than welcome to feel, too, sweetheart.”

He’s so sickeningly proud of himself, you can’t help but think bitterly as soon as your hips start grinding against him of their own accord. He’s so pleased and amused and deeply content with the sight of you falling apart over him. His eyes are hungry, and they don’t stray away from you for a single second. They don’t miss a single twist in your expression, nor do they have the decency not to stare shamelessly at the image of where your pussy meets his midsection, where your slick pools and coats his skin and makes it glisten as you make a mess on him.

He hums, large hands leaving your waist buried in their frames as they guide you at a slow, steady pace. “Bet that feels good, doesn’t it?” He grins—and oh, he’s aggravatingly happy as he laughs breathlessly, “You look like you’re about to fall apart. Don’t worry, I’m right here. You can’t fall far.”

You would say something smart if you could. Maybe even reach back and palm over his crotch that’s rudely tight against his boxers. But you can’t. Not when your clit rubs against his warm, heated skin and leaves jolts along your spine. All you can manage is a pathetic, “S-Sylus, please—”

“Oh? Please what? Please more?” He coos.

Something of a dull ache builds into this deep, throbbing need to feel your walls hug around something. To constrict around and latch onto something warm and big and full—something like him. Something like the way he fucks you into the mattress and makes you feel like he’s so deep in you, you can feel him in your throat.

That’s what you want—but of course, you’re naive if you think that’s what he’ll give. For now, at least. For now, he’ll tease, and tease, and tease until he can watch you crumble just the way he wants to witness. And you’re close to that, too—you know it, and so does he. He can tell by the way your wetness drips onto him in a messy pool, making your cunt drag against him easier, smoother. He can tell because he can all but feel the quiver of your walls clenching around nothing, empty and desperate for some sort of building friction. And he can especially tell because of your face—that devastating look on your face when you’re so close to the edge you can just practically cling to it with the tips of your fingers as it dangles teasingly in front of you.

“More,” you plead, “Want you. Want to feel you.”

“Oh, but you’re almost there,” he says in faux sympathy, soothing you with a sleepy, smug little grin. “Surely, you can take it just like this, can’t you? You’re better than that—I know you are.”

His words take you to the edge. You plummet off of it, in fact, practically collapsing against his chest as he holds you upright with a firm, strong grip and guides you through your orgasm. You gush around nothing, making a wet, sticky mess on his skin as you cum against him, grinding your clit as much as you can along every indent along his hard, built muscle.

“Sylus,” you whimper, “oh—f-fuck.” Your body quivers for a few more moments before you slump against him, burying your nose into his neck. “You’re despicable,” you bite the skin lightly.

He laughs. It’s low from the sleep that’s still clinging to his voice but boyish enough that your heart skips a beat. “Am I? You seemed to enjoy it.”

You shuffle to curl into him more, but your leg brushes against the bulge in his underwear—a small, barely-there sound pulls from his throat. Something caught between a gasp and a moan that makes you pause before you grin against the crook of his neck.

“Guess I should pay you back, hm?”

He watches, pupils dilated and eyes half-lidded as you pull away and kiss from his collarbone to his pecs. A rise of goosebumps litters his skin, too—just like they did on your skin earlier. You silently revel in that victory, making your way lower, lower, lower. But it’s painfully, obnoxiously, ridiculously slow.

“Don’t be a tease, sweetie,” he hisses, grunting as you kiss down his torso, the well-defined muscle of his abs flexing under every touch of your lips.

“Who, me?” You blink, batting your lashes sweetly, “Oh, I’d never, baby.”

Your lips graze over the skin that’s still marked with your essence as you kiss and suck along his torso, a trail of marks left in your wake and declaring him yours. You can taste yourself from just a few moments ago—the moments when you rocked your hips into him and fell apart, when he held you through it with a sleepy smirk. The image of his smug face makes you glance up at him with a flustered look, and almost as if he already knows, his gaze is on you. Waiting. Smug here in person just as much as he was in your memories.

“What a naughty thing,” he drawls, teasing glint in his eyes. “Did you get a taste of yourself? I’m sure now you have an idea of why I find it so…addictive, don’t you?”

He’s filthy. Cocky, too. And more often than not, he’s absurdly prepared with smart comments. Just to even the playing field a little, you decide he could use a little relentless teasing of his own.

“Oh, I can think of a thing or two just as addictive,” you smile innocently—and just like that, you lean in to kiss against a pale, blue line across his porcelain skin, pulling away to admire the veins that mark his body. Something in you aches for him all over again—something that you don’t like to admit happens from just the sight of something like his veins. But you pay careful attention to them anyway, leaning down and pressing soft, feather-like kisses against his lower belly, feeling him stiffen tightly underneath you as his breath gets labored and slightly erratic.

He’s impatient. You glance down at him, cock hard and strained against his boxers, the beginnings of a wet patch dampening the skin from pre cum dribbling from his tip. You almost feel bad.

Almost.

“Don’t you ever get tired of your games?” He grits, involuntarily twitching his hips to chase some friction.

“I could ask you the same question,” you snort.

“Yet, it seems I’m always the one spoiling you,” he retorts.

There’s some bit of merit to that, you suppose. So you give in, humming as you kiss along his v-line, one finger looping under his waistband while giving a small tug downwards. He lifts his hips instantly, letting you pull off the offensive piece of clothing that separates him from your touch.

It’s flushed, his cock. Swollen, flushed with a pretty rosy shade at the tip, and glistening with leaking pre cum. You lean and give the thick vein along the underside a series of kisses tracing upwards before pressing a delicate one to his tip. He groans, and his cock twitches at the contact, his eyes fluttering closed as he bites his lip.

“Pretty,” you observe, smiling softly at the sight of him.

He scoffs, lips almost a pout as they curl into a frown. “Then do something about it,” he insists.

You think you’ve sufficiently teased him enough, so you do—you take him into your mouth slowly, inch by inch, as your tongue and the wet heat of your mouth envelop him and make him tense for a moment before his body goes slack. A deep, throaty groan rings through the room, the sound making something do a flip in your lower belly.

“Fuck,” he whispers, breathing heavily. “You…you’re so good at this.”

The praise does something to you that you’re not proud of. Some flash of an ache deep in your core that you don’t want to focus on, so you pay closer attention to him instead. Your tongue swirls over his tip as your head bobs up, tracing down that pretty vein of his as you take him down your throat once more. What you can’t fit in your mouth—because there is enough of him that you can’t fit in your mouth—you pump with your fist, wrapped around the base of his shaft.

Sylus has a lot of veins. You admire them long enough to know them all by heart. The ones along his hands that you love to trace when you hold them in yours. The ones along his arm that you love to eye when he’s working out. The ones along his abdomen that you trace every once in a while with the tip of your finger when you have him to yourself in private. And the long, pretty one along this inner thigh—the one you see only when you’re like this: between his spread-out legs with your mouth around his cock.

Your free hand moves to lay over this thigh, gently rubbing into the skin as if to anchor him as he throws his head back and groans. Your eyes are trained on him, staring up at the twists of pleasure in his expression and the crinkles in his eyes as he closes them tightly and moans. But you don’t have to look at your hand to know your thumb is tracing along that vein. You know it better than you know yourself, you think—his body is so easy to memorize. So easy to get to know and keep ingrained in your brain forever.

His thigh flexes under your touch, and you hum around him, the vibrations around his length making his breath hitch as he curses under his breath.

You pull away with nothing but a string of saliva connecting you to him, his eyes glancing down at you sharply for the interruption. But you smile, equal parts soft and equal parts smug. Gently, you press a wet kiss to his thigh, right over the same pale blue line you traced just moments ago, as you murmur, “You’re so pretty. You know that?”

“I’m flattered,” he says tightly, warily staring down at you with hungry, desperate eyes. “I’m sure you can save the flattery for later, though, can’t you?”

“But what if you think I’m just using you for your body?” You gasp dramatically, “Can’t have that, you know. I have to appreciate you more.”

“Teasing can easily be reciprocated, you know, sweetheart,” he grits, “Or have you forgotten that so quickly?”

“Oh, I’m aware. I’ll take my chances.” Your lips trail up his thigh until it reaches the base of his cock. You press another kiss against it, murmuring a quiet, “I love you.”

His cock twitches—it’s like it responds to every soft word of affection and every littlest bit of praise. For all the denying and for all the impatience, too, Sylus loves the attention. Thrives under it, even—it does something to his ego that you know you probably shouldn’t help stroke, but you can’t help it.

You press one more kiss to his swollen tip before murmuring, “Mine,” and then you take him down your throat once more—faster this time. Your head bobs up and down his length, lips wrapped around him as you swallow every now and then.

His hand flies to his hair, tugging at the soft, silvery strands as he groans deeply, hips pushing up to meet your pace and thrust deeper into your mouth.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he hisses, “Just like that, sweetheart—shit.”

He spills down your throat not too long after. Warm, sticky ropes of cum that paint your mouth with every twitch of his cock, filling you enough that some spills from the corner of your mouth, dripping along your face and collecting at your chin. You swallow what you can, working him through his orgasm, listening to the sweet, lust-hazed sounds he makes as pleasure burns through every nerve of his body.

He slumps back when he’s finished, panting with an arm over his eyes while you wipe your chin and swallow before climbing up his body and slumping on top of him. He wraps an arm around your waist instantly, humming lowly as his large, warm hand rubs into your lower back.

“Had your fun?” He raises a brow.

You grin cheekily, kissing his jaw as you murmur, “I think you had more fun than me, but what do I know?”

He chuckles. It’s low, and the sound vibrates through his chest so that you can feel it under you. There’s a small bead of sweat along his temple, and his face is flushed a soft shade of scarlet that you admire—it brings out the deep crimson of his eyes even more from here.

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper.

“How many times will you remind me of that?” He asks, bringing a hand to your chin, tilting your face up, and inspecting you carefully. “You’re making me feel bad. I haven’t reminded you how stunning you are nearly enough times.”

“You could always start now,” you wink, “It’s never too late.” He laughs again. Deep, genuine, soft. Sylus is a lot of things. You think your favorite is in love.

“Do I really have to remind you?” He whispers, voice husky as he slowly shifts your body to lay under his, flipping you over as he hovers over you. “You don’t already know how beautiful you are—how you drive me insane?”

“A reminder wouldn’t hurt,” you blink innocently. “What if you’re secretly getting tired of me?”

His eyes flash with something dangerous at that. You only meant it as a joke, of course—he loves deeply. So deeply, you don’t think you’d escape him even if you wanted to. (Not that you do, of course. You’re quite happy knowing your place is beside him.) You know he’s never tired of you—quite the opposite, in fact.

But you like teasing him. Getting under his skin enough that his hand moves to your throat and wraps around it firmly—not quite tight enough to block your air flow, but enough to serve as a light warning.

“You think I would get tired of you?” He challenges. Offended. In disbelief. “Tired of this?”

Just like that, the familiar sound of fabric tearing rings through your ears again. It’s a sound you seem to be getting more and more used to the longer you date Sylus. And yet, every time, it pulls the same sound of disbelief from your throat as you gasp at his audacity. But before you can speak, before you can scold him for ripping your (his) favorite shirt straight off of your body, his hands curve around your tits, molding against them perfectly as if they were made to cup them. His thumbs roll over your nipples, humming in approval as you whine softly at the feeling.

“Sylus,” you pant. (Regretfully, you think that’s the only collection of syllables you can manage anymore on this fine morning.) “W-wait—”

“Wait?” He pretends to gasp in shock, “But we’re just getting started. I was just about to show you all my favorite parts of you—they never get old. Would you like to see?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he leans down, latching his lips around one pebbled nipple, sucking and nipping lightly at it as his thumb rolls over and pinches the other one. Your back arches into his touch, a soft moan spilling from your lips as he grins against your chest.

“Here’s a favorite, for starters,” he murmurs. “And here—” he kisses along your belly and makes his way to your hip bone, biting lightly at the flesh and making your breath hitch, “—this is certainly a memorable place too, isn’t it? Can’t keep my hands off of it.”

Finally, his hands slowly pull your legs apart, exposing the wet, dripping mess that is your cunt, folds puffy and waiting for him. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to your clit, smiling at the small whimper you let out from the sensitive touch before he says through a low, breathy whisper, “This, however…this has to be my favorite part of all.”

“Okay,” you whine, pulling at his arms with a plea, “I get it, okay? I need it, please.”

“Well then,” he huffs out a soft laugh, “Who am I to deny?”

He’s level with you before you can blink—mouth on yours with a heavy, heated kiss that sends your brain into a fogged state as you kiss back. All you can register is soft flesh, pressure against your mouth, the taste of his tongue on yours, and hot and heavy breath seeping into your lungs while he inhales yours. It’s slow, the way he kisses you—but still undeniably needy. He chases after your mouth as soon as you pull away to breathe, a soft gasp pushing past his throat at the loss of contact. As if it might kill him. As if he might die without your breath down his throat, keeping him alive.

“Do you want it, sweetheart?” He breathes erratically, “Because I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

“I want it,” you practically beg, “I want you.”

He’s hard again—stiff between his legs and throbbing at your words enough that his cock does a little jerk on its own, like it’s responding to you itself. He drags it along your entrance, rolling slow circles against your folds and coating his tip in your slick, earning a sharp inhale from you as he groans at the teasing friction against the head of his cock.

“I always want you,” he breathes.

He pushes past your folds as he speaks the words against your mouth, letting you swallow up the low moan he lets out as your walls wrap around him little by little. It’s painstakingly slow. Inch after inch after inch until the blunt head of his length presses deep into you, nudging against a soft, sensitive spot in your walls that makes your whole body react with a quiver. He curves into you perfectly, thick and deep and so, so full.

“Ready?” He smiles tenderly, gripping the fat of your thighs and hooking them around his waist, leaning to kiss one of your knees as you melt into the mattress and nod.

“Please,” you whine, “Need it—need you.”

There’s a sharp thrust of his hips at that—he pulls out until he’s almost completely left your warm cunt before slamming back in past your folds, pressing mercilessly against your sensitive spot. It’s partly because he has your body memorized but mainly because his body is practically made to mold into you. It’s like he fits you perfectly, curves into the shape of your body like the shape of his was hand-made to pair with yours.

When Sylus fucks you is when you see past his exterior the most. When his eyes hold the most emotion, staring at you like he can’t believe you’re his. When his hands shake for once because he doesn’t know if he deserves the weight of you in his hold. When his breath is the most labored and uncontrolled because you steal every breath from his lungs, and selflessly, he gives up air for you. When sweat coats his skin and makes his hair cling to his forehead because when he loves you is when his body is most responsive, most affected.

When Sylus fucks you is when you love yourself most. Because how could you not when he pays such close attention to you? Thumb finding your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles just the way he knows drives you crazy, watching your face closely for every reaction? How could you not when close is not nearly close enough, when he presses his chest against yours and buries his face into your neck to all but melt under your skin? It makes you feel desirable. Beautiful. Lovable.

So easy to want.

So easy to lose control to.

So easy to need.

“You feel that, don’t you?” He mumbles, panting harshly as he grunts when you squeeze around him at the sound of his labored voice. “Feel me? How badly I need you? How crazy you drive me? Feel how hard I am for you? Don’t tell me you think I’d ever get tired of that.”

“I know,” you whine, “I know, I know, baby—I promise.”

You let out a small squeal when he angles your leg higher, thrusting deeper into your cunt, pressing harshly where you need him most with his tip in a dizzyingly punishing pace and a harshly rough deepness that makes your vision blur. Almost go blank, even.

“Tell me you love me,” he demands.

“I love you!”

“Tell me you need me,” he adds, so selfish and needy for your approval. To know you’re nothing without him like he’s nothing without you.

“N-need…fuck, I need you,” you stumble over your words as your orgasm comes closer and closer, creeping up on you enough that you can’t catch your breath fast enough to keep up with him.

“Tell me you’re mine.” This time, it comes out as almost a plea.

“Yours,” you sob, body on the precipice of breaking all over again, “Yours, yours, yours.”

You cum as soon as you say it. Harder than maybe ever—it’s like being reminded that you’re his makes your body react tenfold. You fall apart with a shrill cry of his name, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a bruising kiss as your nails press indents into his skin.

He groans in pleasure at the slight pain, melting against your lips, an open-mouthed, wet kiss working him up to his own orgasm. His first one was a slow build-up—but this one happens quickly, coming out of nowhere and hitting him full force, his hips stuttering for a moment and losing rhythm as he sloppily thrusts into you.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

Your voice rings in his ears, aiding him through his pleasure as he fucks his thick, sticky release deep into your folds, sharp thrusts that match the harsh twitching of his cock.

“Ngh,” he grunts, “Sh-shit, sweetheart.”

Finally, when you’re both done, breaths frenzied and harsh as you try to make up for the lost air in your lungs, he slumps over your body and hides his face into the crook of your neck, practically purring as your shaky hand buries into his sweaty locks and strokes the soft, silvery strands.

It’s quiet, just the sound of your breathing eventually shifting from heavy to slowed as you finally catch it, the quivering of your body dissipating, too. Your fingers journey their way from his scalp to the back of his neck, lightly making a feather-soft trail along his bare back as he shivers from the touch.

“Don’t fall asleep after I showed you a good time,” you pout, “It’s rude.”

“You were the one that woke me for a good time,” he mumbles, amused. “That’s equally as rude.”

“I did not,” you huff, “You were the one who escalated it. I just wanted a peaceful morning.”

“I don’t know,” he grins against your skin, pressing a chaste, warm peck where it's closest to his lips, “I’m feeling pretty at peace, wouldn’t you agree?”

so uh..........basically i got the card where u measured him for clothes and i saw a vein in his abs and lost my mind. so. here is the product of that. i REFUSE to be told this is not a completely totally normal reaction. thank you!

#—rivistyping!#sylus x reader #sylus x mc #sylus x you #sylus x y/n #sylus smut #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace x reader #lds x reader #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #lnds x reader #love and deepspace smut #lds smut #lads smut #l&ds smut #lnds smut #l&ds sylus

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httpsvgin · 1 month ago

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ᯓ “IN YOUR WILDEST

DREAMS.” ۶ৎ

“he’s so tall, and handsome as hell, he’s so bad, but he does it so well.” (TAYLOR SWIFT.)

BY @MZLLSIT!!! ᥫ᭡

PAIRING. hwang in-ho & fem!reader.

FANDOM. squid game (seasontwo.) ꪆৎ

T!W. shameless smut. porn with plot. angst. blowjobs. slight age difference. gagging. rough oral sex. violence. blood. slight manipulative in-ho?? (not as bad as it sounds.)

GENRE. smut, slight fluff?

“PART TWO OF ‘SAID YOU’RE A WILD

MUSTANG’ AS REQUESTED!!!!

(I SUGGEST READING ^ FIRST AS THE PLOT WOULD MATCH UP EASIER FOR YOU!!!

SUMMARY. ᝰ.ᐟ the day following yours and in-ho’s small.. ‘interaction’ left you feeling hopeless as you found that he had been avoiding you since the second he left you vulnerable in that bathroom. a million questions spiralled in your head to what possibly could be the reason he was acting so stubborn and hell, did you want your answers. taking matter into your own hands, you cornered in-ho into giving you the answers you want and deserve.. until you found yourself in a rather.. sticky situation?

!!!!AUTHORS NOTE!!!!! . . . in this fanfic i twisted up the story a smudge and basically removed the whole last scene of the rebellion and replaced it with the aftermath of the night games and the players making their way up toward their 4th game just so this story would kinda like make sense bruh??? and on another note the comments left on my last post were so supportive istg my ego is through the roof yall i love it. also, im thinking of writing a story with the love interest being sangwoo cuz hes been my man since day one guys. lmk who u want to see me write about next and thank you so much for all your support!!!!!!!! ᥫ᭡

─────────────

the hours following after the blood bath that erupted amongst the players felt as though they could last a million lifetimes. you watched as the pink covered guards entered the room with those obnoxious boxes, plush and dark with a taunting pink bow on the top just to add another “fuck you” to the players about their power while they scrooped up the bodies of the dead.

blood seemed to be on every surface your eyes could catch, the floor, walls, even the beds as you watched a guard carry a limp body of a woman who’s stomach was mutilated and open for all to see, her eyes fluttered shut to show she probably was attacked in her sleep. you couldn’t help but feel bile rise in the back of your throat at the scene, swallowing the acid back down to your stomach with a trembling lip. how can anyone be so fucking inhumane?

yet while you fought away your vomit, your eyes pinned onto a familiar body who was being carried into a box. nam-yu’s wide, dead eyes felt as though they were following your live ones as they lowered him into the box. instantly your mind snapped to the memory of in-ho puncturing the metal pole in through his heart and feeling his warm, crimson blood drip along down your face before his body collapsed ontop of you. this time, your final view of the man who tried to end your life was left with a hole through his body and his head tilted up to stare at the ceiling as they slid the lid of the box over his body.

and yet the man who saved your life seemed to have removed himself from it completely as he sat in the same corner with gi-hun, jung-bae and the rest of their alliance, his eyes staring at the ground with what looked like guilt but with feeling your eyes on him, he tilted his own to look back at you for a short moment which made your heart rattled against your chest before his attention was quickly yanked away as jung-bae opened his mouth to talk.

so here you sat across the room, feeling like a crumb that was kicked under the carpet, longed to be forgot about. not even an hour ago he was staring up at you from between your legs like you were a prized antique, fragile and precious and made to be cherished. now here he is, running a firm hand through his messy hair, not daring to look in your direction. how man like of him.

biting the flesh from under your finger nails you sat a few bunk beds away from your group while the x’s stayed firm in their side of the room but this time each of the sides were down by far more numbers and looked slightly more frightened than ever before.

“hey. .” a soft voice came and dragged you out of your thoughts as you turned your head at the sound of your name. player 120 looked down at you softly, hands tightly at her side to try not to spook you. “my god, i thought you were dead.” she whispered a little breathlessly as she smiled a sweet smile she knew you needed yet you could tell she was more than thrilled to see your face alive and well.

cho-hyun ji her name was, she was someone you stuck along side with during all of the games you played. she and her group recruited you to be theirs during the second game where you shocked your group with your skill of spinning top. to be honest, despite your angered shape it was more than soothing to see such a kind and comforting face after everything.

“come, sit with us.” slowly and carefully she brought her hand up to settle on your shoulder yet not firmly enough to scare you or pressure you.

your eyes were brought to the group who you found to be staring back at you with a smile, player 222, she held her large belly with one hand yet her other tapped the spot next to her, signalling you to sit. gi-hun, the leader you supposed also offered a kind smile toward your way where as in-ho’s dark eyes stared in way you couldn’t quiet put your tongue on. lust? anger? guilt? who knows, instead you took hyun-ji’s hand and followed her over to the rest of the group and ignored the fiery feeling in your stomach.

“ah-haha! there she is!” jung-bae called out from his seat on the stairs and before you could even respond he pulled you into a tight, suffocating embrace, his plump arms patting your back while he chuckled. “we thought we lost you for a second there!” you laughed kindly at the groups relief of seeing your face again and as jung-bae released his bear grip on you, from over his shoulder you caught eyes with in-ho, a strand of his dark hair fell over his eyes which looked like they darkened in colour at the view of you two, and fuck, did it make your stomach sink.

after your small reunion with the group you finally took your seat inbetween player 222 and gi-hun, who affirmed your nervousness with a warm smile yet you could see the pain from behind his eyes as he quickly returned his attention back toward the conversation jung-bae and his marine friend were bantering about. you guessed they were probably trying to make the best out of a bad situation judging by how deflated and scared most of you seemed.

your mind blurred with whatever conversation was happening amongst your friends and instead your eyes pinned to stare at the pink, square guards that stood at the metal double doors, then stared to in-ho, then back to the guards. what correlation did this man have with them? because hell, theres no way they would’ve opened that door even if you pleaded with your whole life and still they allowed him with you at his side to slide away from death and into heavens gates? it made no sense to you at all. and why was it so easy for him to act as though nothing between you had even happened not even a few hours ago when it was eating you up from the inside not to scream in his face.

maybe im overreacting? you thought. anyone in this room is just as desperate for sex, he probably saw you in that bathroom as a stress reliever, a one ‘night’ stand that he could easily slip away from with no feelings attached? sure, it made sense, but nor did it stop the way you felt towards him and it definitely did not make sense on how easily those guards let him live. this man has power, and nobody else knows about it.

and you were going to find out what is was, even if it costs you your life.

. . . .

“attention all players, the next game will commence shortly. please make your way toward the game hall!” the ai voice called from the several speakers around the room to which everyone began to shakily rise from their spots, making their way to the now opened doors.

“any idea on what the next games could be?” you heard jung-bae ask gi-hun, to which gi-hu replied with a tight shrug, assuring that the games have changed since the last time he played and that it was completely out of his power. gi-hun was kind and definitely did not deserve all that was racking on his shoulders, besides, he was a good man with a good heart.

you stuck behind the crowd, following tightly behind hyun-ji while the rest of your group walked through the doors to where the bright colours of the spiralled hallways illuminated and burnt your eyes. in-ho followed closely behind you, alone, and you could practically feel the way his eyes burnt holes at the back of your head. this was your opportunity.

hyun-ji chatted alongside player 246, making their way hastily up the stairs while you shortened your steps, slowing your legs down down and listening quietly to in-ho behind, who’s steps were beginning to match your pace.

waiting until you were out of sight, you twisted your head around to face in-ho behind you before using all your strength to pull and yank him up against the wall, anger lacing your eyes. even though you were at an advantage, his height still towered over you, like he could swallow you whole as he stared down at you, grinning. you felt vulnerable at how beautiful he looked pinned against a wall, keeping his eyes calm and settled on you, hair messy and scattered along his relaxed features.

“mm, little girl finally found her strength, yeah?” his tone was glazed sweetly like honey with a hint of sarcasm laced on his tongue as he took the view of you, knitted eyebrows, hair pulled back into a loose bun as you panted harshly with your hand tight against his chest, trying to keep him still.

“youve been avoiding me.” your chest heaved, staring into his souls with attempted anger yet a slight glisten of lust shimmer behind your eyes. the way you had him pinned reminded you of how he had you in that bathroom, pretty face buried between your legs and eating you out like a man starved of thirst. it sent your thighs to clench just at the thought.

“i have reasons.” his tongue poked on the inside of his cheek, the nerves in his jaw clenched for a moment yet he never broke eye contact or even tried to move out of your grip.

“oh yeah? what reasons, cause i sure as hell know theres something up with you.” you gripped his shirt harder under your shaking hands, yanking his shirt forward in attempt to gain your dominance. he laughed. right in your fucking face, soft and innocent but fuck did it damage your ego.

“reasons that don’t concern you, sweetheart.” the nickname rolled on his tongue in a way that sent butterflies to spiral in the pit of your stomach and your cheeks to flush in a soft pink colour. “now, are we going to do this the nice way, or my way.”

now it was your turn to laugh, cocking an eyebrow and yanking his shirt tighter toward you so his face was inches from yours. “you don’t fucking scare me, in-ho.” you spat, face now laced with seriousness as you stood you firm ground.

“well, so be it.” he shrugged firmly before his hand wrenched around your wrist and yanking it behind your back in a split second. crying out in pain, he shoved your back against him to where your ass pressed firmly against his front while his other hand wrapped around your mouth to muffle your yells. your free arm clawed and slapped against the arm that quietened you yet his strength overpowered yours so easily.

“why’d you have to be so difficult, hm?” his lips were so close to your ear lobe that his hot breath ticked against the plush of your neck.

“fuck you..” you whispered out from a shaky breath, feeling embarrassed at how quickly the tables turned in just a few seconds. then, he chuckled again, but instead this one came out darker.

“as you wish.” he whispered into the crook of your neck before grabbing both your wrists with one hand and used his other to yank the door handle behind him that his back pressed against, shoving you both inside.

the first thing that caught your eye was the long walk way and how nearly every material of the room was covered in gold decor, walls covered in black paint with shelves of whiskey and liquor that probably dated back to centuries ago sat behind a glass case while in the centre sat a large tv half the size of the room. on the screen played footage of the players still walking up the stairs to the game, in front sat a plush, leather couch with a side table that had a half drank glass of bourbon ontop. next to that sat a mask, yet it was different from the one the guards wore and it made your skin tingle.

yet your wondering eyes were stopped in their tracks as in-ho pressed himself tighter against your lower back before leading you forward through the walkway, his breathe tickling softly against your skin.

“you’re shaking.” he spoke against your pulse point in your neck, still pining your wrist behind you as he walked you like a fucking dog toward the plush sofa to where he brought you round to the front. slowly, his long fingers trailed up your body, not once letting his lips leave your skin as he practically inhaled your scent. eventually they landed on your clothed shoulder before he pressed down on it for you to lower yourself down on your knees.

fuck. you tried to swallow the lump that grew in your throat as you sat on your knees in front of him, watching as he man spread out before you, arms resting behind him while he stared down at you with that same fucking smirk that made you clench your legs.

“who are you working fo—“ the words muffled your throat before you were shoved face first into his crotch, feeling his hard erection through the material of his joggers. he rubbed your cheek against the bulge in his trousers and you swore you heard a small, whiny hum from his lips.

“shh.. why don’t you use that pretty mouth of yours for a greater good, hm?” his large palm petted the back of your head, stroking you like you were a soft animal as you swallowed the gathering saliva that gathered anxiously in your mouth. “do me well and ill answer any questions you have for me, sweetheart. deal?”

you nodded your chin up and down as you slowly edged your finger to the waist band of his tracksuit bottoms, pulling them slowly with shaking fingers. feeling your trembling touch, in-ho brought a warm palm to your cheek, thumb running comfortingly over the scar left under your eye as his eyes glistened beautifully under the gold lighting. and shit, you swore you get sticky just at his touch.

“mhm, just like that.” he coed down at you quietly, treating you as precious that if he spoke to loud you would shatter like a piece of glass. being validated by him was a drug you never knew you needed, and hell, were you addicted. cautiously, you began pulling at his clothes again until they were down to his thighs, leaving him in a pair of calvin kline boxer briefs. hot and ironic, judging his rich scent you werent exactly surprised to see them with his large bulge staring back at you.

for a moment, you looked up at him to where he was already staring back down at you, palm still cupping your cheek as he gave a gentle nod of approval before your finger tips brushed at the elastic top of his pants as softly yanking them down. fuck.

his size practically made your mouth gape open slightly, your wide eyes taking in the mouthwatering sight. a baby pink tip beaded and glistened with pre-cum while a pretty vein ran along the side of his cock, starting from his base and traveling the full way to the tip. you gulped at his girth, fantasising at how perfectly he could satisfyingly fill you up against this fucking couch.

“please.” he mumbled, sounding breathless already and slightly needy as he took one hand to gather your soft hair into a ponytail before shoving your head down harshly on his cock, forcing his tip to stab against the back of your throat which made your eyes fill with tears as you choked.

bobbing your head up and down, your lips wrapped around his large girth perfectly while your palms sat firm on either side of his thighs for support. the sounds leaving his mouth were like they were sent from heaven, breathless and desperate, almost enough to make you cum there and then. his fingers interlinked with the roots on your hair, tugging on the strands.

bringing yourself up from his cock, you admired the way it glistened with your saliva as you caught your breath. for a moment, you looked up to capture the view of this man, his head tilted back as his adams apple bobbed in his throat while his eyes wrenched shut. he was fucking beautiful and vulnerable while you sat in between his legs, it made you want to suck him dry until he cried out your name to stop.

gently, you leaned you head back down to his tip, using your tongue to kitten lick around the base to taste the sweetness of his pre-cum. this caused in-ho to grip at your hair painfully, letting out a deep groan at the way you teased his sensitive tip.

“who do you work for?” you whispered against his length and you swore you felt it twitch between your hand as you used one to work at the base of his cock while your tongue remained along his tip, licking long stripes.

“i dont work for nobody.” he grumbled from the couch, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, his chest heaving slightly at how beautifully you worked and treated him. “what makes you think i do, hm?”

“during the night those guards just—“ you gripped on the meat of his thigh as he shoved your mouth back down on his cock, making you gag out loudly against him which sent shivers down his spine at the vibration. tears battled behind your eyes at the burning that began to ride in the back of your throat yet his cock continued to thrust harsher and deeper between your lips.

you couldn’t even breathe against him, yet he couldn’t give less of a shit as he continued to shove his dick balls deep in your snappy mouth that got you in this position in the first place. sucking and gagging along his cock felt euphoric for you, even leaving your panties wet with your slick yet you attempted to cross your legs at the uncomfortable, sticky feeling that grew in between them.

squeezing on his thighs, you felt hot tears stream from your cheeks while your mouth battled with the roughness of his thrusts as he fucked your mouth vigorously. soon enough, your knees bucked at the way he twitched in your mouth before his warm cum coated every surface of your mouth, filling you up completely.

“fuck..” he panted harshly, letting go of the grip of hair he held to look down at you with your mouth full of cum. your lips were puffy and pink while your cheeks stained with tears as you swallowed harshly, his taste leaving a sweet tingle on your tongue. then, he took your face in with hand hand, lifting your chin up to look at him as he squeezed both sides of your cheeks between his fingers.

“look at me when i talk to you.” he grunted down at you, fluttering your eyelashes to look at his face with your glossy eyes as you sniffled slightly. taking one hand, he wiped a drip of cum from the crease of your lips before tugging at your hair to open your mouth. sliding his thumb between your lips, you licked of the residue with the warmth of your tongue, then softly he removed it with a short pop.

“you’re a smart girl, yeah? but not smart enough to understand what danger you have put yourself in.” his tone was gentle, yet his words made your heart thump wildly against your chest. the fuck does that mean? you wanted to ask, yet you chewed on your tongue to not do so.

“i dont.. understand?” you almost choked on your words, eyebrows knotting into a thrown as you felt just as clueless as before, yet this time with a slight bit of your dignity stripped judging by the fact you had to suck off a potentially dangerous stranger because you were curious.. well, not just that. but still, he had your mind lopped in confusion thats for sure.

“i don’t expect you to, sweetheart.” he coed, twirling your soft hair between his finger tips while his other still remained on keeping your chin up at him. “but, please, understand this.”

slowly, he lowered his head down toward yours, brushing his thumb along the softness of your bottom lip. in-ho stopped to trace his lips along your ear lobe, nibbling at the soft skin before opening his mouth to whisper upon it. “if anyone even dares to hurt you, i promise ill chop off every single one of their fingers and serve them to you on a silver platter.” he chuckled against your neck, licking a nipping at the skin as he felt you tremble bellow him.

“with their head as dessert.” he growled in your ear, violence and threat slashed on his tongue while he used his spare arm to scoop you up from the plush carpet floor and into the warmth of his lap. “do you understand that?”

“yes.” your bottom lip trembled and eyes widened with the seriousness of his tone, and fuck did he mean every word of it. nor did you hesitate to believe him either, taking your hands to wrap around the back of his neck and rest your chin into the crook of his neck, inhaling the expensive scent he let off.

“thats my girl.”

#squid game #squid game x reader #in ho x reader #hwang in ho #front man x reader #front man #smut #hwang in ho x reader

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brooke121000 · 2 months ago

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hot chocolate • Spencer reid

In which Spence and Reader attempt to make hot chocolate, but get distracted. (oh no!)

warnings: cute smut, oral (f recieving) softdom!spencer, v little plot, p in v

a/n: first time writing smut!

———————————౨ৎ———————————

“mmm-“ you sipped the cocoa, passing him a mug. “Top tier, really-“

“See? Half and half wasn’t a bad idea.” Spencer grinned, happily accepting the tacky porcelain snowman mug and tasting the hot chocolate inside.

“I admit.. you’re a genius.”

It rarely snowed in Virginia. You personally had never seen snow- so even heavy rain you would accept as “wintery”, insisting on staying in with Spencer.

He lazily stirred the pot of cocoa, wrapping an arm around your waist, which you happily accepted. “You know-“ he began. “There’s a lot of dispute about when hot chocolate was popularized and by who.”

You quirked an eyebrow in interest.

“Some say it was brought to the French by Spanish conquistadors.. that seems to be the general consensus.” He mused.

“Huh..” you tilted your head. “I don’t buy it. What’s my other option?”

He smiled, letting the spoon rest against the pot as he turned to you, hands on your waist and oaken eyes trained on yours with a gentle warmth that seemed to calm you from the inside out.

“..Jamaica.” He answered.

“Now, that’s an origin I can get behind.”

“Well- wait makes about Jamaica makes it more believable?”

“It.. sounds cooler, mostly.” You admitted, hands wrapping around his neck.

“You’re silly.”

“I know..” you said, your voice softened. “you don’t seem to mind.” His grip tightened gently on your waist, fingertips massaging into the soft skin as your lips met. Your pre-relaxed body sunk into his embrace, a painfully familiar heat rising and lingering within you.

“you’re.. beautiful.” He said quietly- breathing strained.

“you’re not so bad yourself.”

That arose a tiny chuckle from him and he steered your hips, pushing you gently back against the counter. Your lips fell into another impatient kiss- and you swear you felt your knees falter. It killed Spencer to pull away again- but you whispered:

“here? Spence-“

“Where else? The bed?” He furrowed his brows, eager to hear your preference. You gave a tentative nod.

He scooped you up away from the counter, and you felt the smell of hot cocoa fade as he turned down the hallway. He tossed you among the pillows, situating himself overtop of you.

You tilted your head up, exposing your neck. He trailed soft kisses up and down the delicate skin, teeth ghosting against you as his lips traveled downward.

“May I?” He murmured, fingers wrapped under the straps of your tank top.

Not can I, may I. So polite. No matter how many times you told him he could do whatever he wanted.. you could scream “fuck me” till you were blue in the face- and he would still ask every time. That was what you liked about Spencer, he had to be sure about everything.

“yes- yes, please. Spence.” You nodded fervently, and that was all he needed.

His agile hands made quick work of your clothes, tossing his pants to the floor but keeping his shirt on the bed- knowing you’d be wanting that later. When you were bare in front of him, He began to leave messy kisses up and down your chest, stopping to nip at that sweet spot under your jaw that made you shiver.

“fuck, Spence..” you breathed.

“I know, baby.”

Firm hands took hold of your thighs, parting them. He situated his head in between, mousy brown curls ruffling against the plush skin of your leg as he trailed up and down your thighs, leaving you impatient and trembling in his wake. Not one to tease, he finally moved his lips where you wanted him to, placing a soft kiss to your clit.

All your nerves awoke at once, fluttering under him as he licked a stripe up your core, flattening his tongue. It swirled, driving you insane- pulling ribbons of shaky moans and whimpers from your lips.

Your pulsed flushed and your hands gripped the sheets around you, an unconscious motion he wasn’t unaware of. Your occupied hands, now trembling, intertwined with his hair, gently situating themselves among the soft strands. He brought his hands back between your thighs, a finger prodding at your entrance. You eagerly accepted, pressing your back into the sheets as you gazed down at him.

A chorus of whines, gasps and pants escaping you only motivating him to speed up, his tongue swirling and flattening as another digit joined the first. He pressed the pads of his fingers against the sweet spot inside of you, coaxing out more noises and shakes.

“mm- Spence, god-“

It was clear he wasn’t going to be responding anytime soon, seeing as his tongue was thoroughly occupied. He continued his ministrations, working you up to a point as your thighs clenched around his head- a long whimper dragging out from your lips. He seemed determined to make you cum- so when your hands tightened in his hair, he groaned lowly, the vibrations sending you over the edge.

The warmth fizzing up in your core boiled over, leaving you a whining, trembling mess.

You attempted to babble out some feeble show of gratitude as he worked you down. When he finally came up to the surface, pulling his fingers out and raising his head with a big, stupid smile. His chin was wet and his pupils blown out.

“that feel good?” He asked simply, earning a curt nod.

“I wanna hear your voice, baby.”

You shifted your hips, staring up at him as he wiped his chin. “I’m- so, so good, Spence.”

He licked his fingers clean and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, hand planted on your waist.

“more-“ you murmured. “please?”

You didn’t need to beg with him. He quickly did away with his boxers, tossing them- well.. somewhere. Face flushed and brows knit together, he kneaded the plush of your thighs, pushing your legs up to meet your chest as he planted another soft kiss on your forehead, aligning himself with your entrance.

“you okay, angel? With me, still?” He whispered.

“Yeah- yeah, all here.”

“breathe.”

He gently pushed into you, inch after inch, a small groan escaping his lips when your walls fluttered against him. Lost for words, he pinched your waist, a small reminder to relax. He finally bottomed out, your back lifting off the mattress just slightly.

Desperate to relieve some of the pressure, you shifted your hips- which garnered a breathy gasp from him. “Don-don’t move, not yet. don’t wanna come.”

you whined at his pleading, unsatisfied and trembling. Your hips shifted once again. “Sorry, sorry- can’t wait, Spence, that’s all.”

He pulled in another breath, face flushed. “It’s- okay. ‘m gonna move now.”

He slowly pulled his hips away from yours, tugging at the invisible chord between you and taking your breath away all in one fluid motion. When he pushed back inside you again, you released a moan you didn’t know you were capable of producing. With one hand on your thigh, holding your knees up, he pushed into you again, slowly gaining a steady pace even with your consistent trembling.

“Please, more- fuck!”

As if to escape the stimulation, you threw your head back- on the cusp of yet another orgasm. You babbled out a string of please’s, more’s, and ‘don’t-stop’s, pressing your hips into him.

“just, fuck- just a little more, angel.”

His words were practically lost to you, mixed in with a cacophony of your own breath, your moans, whimpers, and the rising tension in your stomach as you approached your second time around.

He pressed up against your cervix- and the gentle pressure was all you needed to go flying off the edge. Your hands intertwined behind his neck, hips lifting off of the mattress as you cried out, lost in the sensation. It was only a few more seconds before he came as well, slowing his movements with desperate, panting breath.

He withdrew from you, joining you on the bed, tugging the blanket over you two and pulling you close to his chest.

You stayed there for a while, your heart rate calming as he stroked your shoulder, calming your frazzled nerves.

“Shit- the hot cocoas gonna get cold.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #fluff

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fandom · 2 months ago

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Movies

Nine rings for mortal men doomed to die, five nights in an abandoned pizzeria, and one (1) fourth-generation Honda Odyssey.

Deadpool & Wolverine

Five Nights at Freddy's +26

Lord of the Rings +4

The Hunger Games +10

Saw +18

Dune +53

Barbie -6

Challengers

Trolls Band Together

Saltburn

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse -9

Red, White, and Royal Blue -6

Transformers One

The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes +76

A Minecraft Movie

Nimona -12

The Hobbit +10

Inside Out 2

Scream

Mean Girls +17

Sonic the Hedgehog 3

Venom: The Last Dance +21

Twilight +1

How to Train Your Dragon +8

Dead Poets Society

The Boy and the Heron

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World

Ultraman: Rising

The Marvels +48

Goncharov -27

Coraline +16

Lisa Frankenstein

Howl's Moving Castle -7

Top Gun: Maverick -14

Les Misérables +9

Luca

An Extremely Goofy Movie

Steamboat Willie

The Addams Family -30

The Super Mario Bros. Movie

Shrek -24

Spirited Away -2

The Batman -2

Twisters

Trolls World Tour

Brokeback Mountain

Fight Club +41

Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire

I Saw the TV Glow

Star Wars: Episode III—Revenge of the Sith +12

Knives Out -40

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice

Rite Here Rite Now

The Nightmare Before Christmas +19

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem -34

The Princess Bride +4

Frozen -3

Little Shop Of Horrors

Monkey Man

Thunderbolts*

Night at the Museum +9

Gladiator II

The Lion King

Alien: Romulus

Ratatouille

Soul +5

Wreck-It Ralph

The Wild Robot

Pacific Rim -6

Avatar: The Way of Water -55

Princess Mononoke -13

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes

American Psycho -16

The Thing -26

The Fantastic Four: First Steps

The Mummy -4

Longlegs

Heathers +18

Beauty And The Beast -46

Oppenheimer -67

Alien (1979)

Titanic

Equestria Girls -9

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story -42

The Little Mermaid -67

Marie Antoinette

Pirates of the Caribbean -3

The Lost Boys -12

The Dark Knight

My Neighbor Totoro -9

John Wick -42

Ponyo

Kung Fu Panda +4

Hellraiser -19

Encanto -50

Wish

The Shining

Star Wars: Episode IV—A New Hope

Ghostbusters

Lilo & Stitch -13

The number in italics indicates how many spots a title moved up or down from the previous year. Bolded titles weren’t on the list last year.

Love movies? Discuss plots, follow franchises, and share movie memes. Right this way.

#year in review #movies #tumblr2024

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shotmrmiller · 1 year ago

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I havent a wrinkle in this brain of mine for plot, so have some porn without plot instead :)

Maybe it's because Johnny has you blindfolded, but he feels different. He's heavier on top of you and feels a bit bigger inside of you. It stings more than usual when he finally pushes his cock into your sopping cunt, swollen and tender from the four orgasms he took from you with his mouth alone. Your inner thighs burn as they stretch wider around his thick waist. When his lips meet yours, as your tongues entwine, he tastes of bourbon. He's quiet too, which is very different from the usual filth he whispers into your ear.

But when he starts rocking his hips, all thought fades, along with the ache in between your legs. His thrusts are long, pulling out until only the tip of his cock remains inside. Then he pushes forward steadily until he's pressed firmly against the entrance of your womb— making you wince slightly at the pinch. He does this tirelessly until obscene squelches emit from your cunt, that pinch deep inside of you turning into spine-tingling bliss. Your skin erupts in goosebumps when his head nudges against your sweet spot, a loud moan falling from your lips. He mutedly chuckles, his chest vibrating against sweat-slick breasts and the coarseness of his chest hair grazing your hardened nipples only heightens your pleasure.

You feel him move away from you until his cock slips out, only to vigorously grab at your hips and pull you to him. Your upper body rests on the bed, while he sits on his haunches and keeps your legs spread with his thick thighs as he slowly pushes back inside. But this time, it's not all the way. Oh, no. You know exactly what's about to happen.

"Wait-" but he doesn't. He fixedly keeps you in place at the angle he wants, the angle you need, and moves. His thrusts turn staccato— short, quick jabs— and he's hitting your spot, the one that has you going cross-eyed behind the blindfold. Your mouth is slightly open, drooling at the corner of it as you're rendered helpless against his onslaught.

The fire in your stomach blazes, every snap of his hips pushes you closer to the edge, the coil within you tightening, your body tensing. You can hear him spit— can feel a warm glob of liquid land on your mons, and dribble down to your aching, neglected clit. His thumb collects the saliva and swirls your bud under the pad of his calloused thumb rigidly.

Your spine arches off the mattress so sharply it pops as you climax, a choked scream ripping out of your throat. Your nails dig into the delicate skin of his wrists, no doubt leaving behind red welts. He doesn't stop the stimulation on your clit, his hips never falter in rhythm as he prolongs your mind-numbing pleasure.

Body going limp in his hands, you hiss in oversensitivity and swat at his hands. "Ow, love-" but he cuts you off with a searing kiss before flipping you on your knees, and to the edge of the lofty bed. You're rising to your hands when his big, rough palm pushes you down— his intent clear. With your chest on the bed, he sheathes himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke and the angle he goes in with is nothing short of devastating.

If you hadn't been wailing, you would've heard the deep, guttural noise that escaped his mouth. You can feel him in your sternum, replacing the air in your lungs. He swiftly picks up his left leg, positions it on the bed next to you, and sets a merciless pace. The force behind his thrusts rattles your very bones, leaves you breathless. You can feel the meat of your arse ripple with every slap of his hips— can feel the bruises forming in your skin under his hands.

You lift your hand to feel where he's splitting you open, fingers encasing his cock, he stiffens— swells painfully inside of you then he's coming with a snarl. His Cock twitches as it spurts his essence into you, stuffing you full and then some because you can feel his cum trickle down your legs. You try to lift yourself with quivering arms but again, you're manhandled and flipped onto your back, a squawk of indignation silenced with an all-consuming kiss. His lips move against yours feverishly, as if he's committing your taste to memory.

He finally relents, pulling away but you hold him in place with your hands cupping his face and murmur an 'I love you'. The only response you get is one you feel, as he tips his head in a nod, and then presses a kiss into your sweaty temple before moving away.

Later, when you and Johnny are in the shower, you notice that there isn't a single scratch on his wrists even though you definitely dug your nails into him. And that reminds you.

"Johnny?"

"Aye, bonnie?"

"Since when do you drink bourbon?"

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #cod #simon riley x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish smut #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #johnny soap mctavish x reader #simon riley x you #drabble

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darksturnz · 7 days ago

Text

── ⋮ ⌗ “PRETTIEST MOMMA. . .” ⟢ BF.ᐟMATT ᵎᵎ

CONTENTS: little bit of everything-plot ・very suggestive, no actual p n v・thigh riding ・im ovulating n had a baby dream n im in mourning + more PART TWO HERE

The dream doesn’t fade.

It clings to you, wrapping around your chest like ivy, tight and suffocating. You can still feel the weight of it—of them—small and fragile in your arms, as if they were real, as if they existed at all. But they don’t. They never did. And yet the loss feels so tangible, so gut-wrenching, it has your throat tightening and your eyes burning before you even register waking up.

Your first instinct is to reach for Matt.

But his side of the bed is cold.

The soft click, click, click of his controller fills the quiet room, punctuated by the occasional muted sound of his game. Slowly, you blink the haze from your vision and turn toward the glow of his PC. He’s hunched forward, deep in concentration, his lip caught between his teeth as he stares at the screen. The cool-toned LED lights cast sharp shadows across his face, highlighting the focused crease between his brows, the slight twitch of his fingers, the casual set of his jaw as he plays. He’s completely unaware of your wandering eyes, completely lost in the match.

And you should just leave him be.

It’s stupid, anyway. Just a dream. Just a figment of your mind playing cruel tricks. But your chest still aches, and the bed feels too empty, and suddenly, all you want is the warmth of Matt’s arms around you, his voice low and tired, telling you it’s okay, telling you he’s here.

So you move without thinking, slipping from the bed with quiet steps, the cool wooden floor sending a small shiver up your legs. The oversized T-shirt you stole from him earlier barely covers the tops of your thighs, brushing against your skin as you approach.

Matt must sense you before he sees you.

His character ducks into cover just as he spins in his chair, brows drawing together the second he takes in your expression.

His voice is gentle, laced with sleep deprivation and concern. “What’re you doin’ up, sweetheart?” One hand tugs off his headset, tossing it onto his desk without care. His frown deepens. “Why—hey, are you cryin’? Baby, what’s wrong?”

You don’t answer, just climb into his lap, seeking out his warmth, his touch, him. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, and your face tucks into the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him, something faintly woodsy, something safe.

Matt doesn’t hesitate, arms locking around you immediately, hands rubbing slow, soothing circles against your back. His leg starts bouncing, the motion steady and comforting, his chair swaying with it as he whispers soft, barely-there reassurances against your temple.

“I got you,” he murmurs, voice still thick with exhaustion. “S’okay. I got you.”

But something is shifting.

You don’t notice at first.

Not until the slow, rhythmic motion of his bouncing knee starts creating something else entirely.

It’s subtle—the barest friction, the softest drag of fabric against fabric. But you’re barely dressed, your thin underwear the only thing separating you from the heat of his body. And with each rise and fall of his leg, each thump of his foot against the floor, you feel it more.

The sharp ache in your chest melts into something lower, something deeper, something that coils tight in the pit of your stomach. You try to ignore it, try to focus on your sorrow, on the reason you came over here in the first place, but it’s impossible when every shift of his body against yours sparks something electric.

You’re not sure when your sniffles turned into quiet whimpers.

But Matt notices.

His movements falter for a fraction of a second, his arms tensing around you, his breath hitching slightly. He was about to exit out of his game entirely, give you his full attention, but then you let out the smallest, neediest sound, and it stops him dead in his tracks.

A slow realization settles in his eyes.

His fingers flex against your hips.

“Baby…” His voice is different now. Lower. Knowing.

You shake your head quickly, trying to move away, suddenly embarrassed by your body’s betrayal. But his hands tighten, holding you in place, keeping you right where he wants you.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your cheek. “What’s wrong?”

You swallow hard. “I—I had a bad dream.”

His thumbs rub slow circles against your sides, his knee still bouncing ever so slightly, just enough to keep the pressure building between your legs. “Yeah?” he hums. “What about?”

You hesitate, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, heat crawling up your neck. You feel so twisted for this. For craving him like this when your heart still feels so raw.

“I—I had a baby,” you finally whisper, barely audible. “And then—I lost it.” Your throat tightens. “It just felt so real, Matt.”

His grip twitches.

For a long moment, he just stares at you. His expression shifts—something unreadable flickering in his eyes, something dark and all-consuming. His fingers tighten on your hips, subtly guiding, subtly leading.

“A baby?” His voice is soft, almost mocking. “That what you want, sweetheart? Hm?”

You let out a shaky breath. The heat between your legs is unbearable now, the pressure teetering on the edge of pleasure and frustration, and you can’t help it—your body reacts before your mind can catch up, your head giving the tiniest nod.

Matt exhales a slow, amused chuckle. His eyes never leave yours, pinning you in place, making you feel small, fragile, desperate.

“All y’gotta do is jus’ ask, sweet girl,” he murmurs, one hand slipping to the small of your back, pressing you just a little closer. His lips brush against yours, teasing, barely there. “M’gonna make you the prettiest momma ever, ‘kay?”

authors note: ahem- “ I COULD BEEEEEEEE AAAAAA GOOOODDDDDDD MOTTTTHHHHHEEEEERRRRRRRRR”😢😢😢

TAG LIST: @jetaimevous @sturnsblunt @riasturns @ifwdominicfike @chrissturns-wife @pip4444chris @ribread03 @ariestrxsh @angelic-sturniolos111 @pvssychicken @mattslolita @stvrnzcherries @dottieboo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @bluestriips @sturniolo-fann @chrisslut04 @owensbabygirl @sturnslutz @sturniqlo @sofieeeeex @jadasmp4 @ncm9696 @courta13

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julymusings · 3 months ago

Note

Jason is the type of person to put on some shitty romance movie only for his date to fall asleep and for him to get strangely invested.

are you still watching?

i saddle up my horse and I ride into the city. i make a lot of noise 'cause the girls they are so pretty. riding up and down broadway on my old stud leroy, and the girls say...

or; 3 times Jason Todd gets hooked on your television choices [3.7k]

jason todd x fem!reader; this is so real...and so clever!!! i LOVE the concept. i did get a little carried away and lost the plot unforch...pt3 is just a sex dream ab cowboy!jason so. also I apologize for taking forever to respond. tw...klance mentioned💀 & suggestive but not explicit. and i do bash on voltron in pt2 a little but it's all in good fun🫶i did my time with them divider

“Baby, I love you, but if you don’t pick something soon I’ll call Dick in here to entertain us with his backflips.”

“Oh, be quiet,” you huff. Though as you scroll, once again, through all the options on Netflix, you fear his threat may be serious.

You reach the bottom of the page, having found nothing. You peek at Jason from the corner of your eye and hover the cursor over the ‘Back to Top’ button.

“No.” He reaches to grab the laptop from you, but his injuries hinder his usual swiftness. You shriek in objection and roll away to the other side of the bed, computer held tight in your clutches.

“Babe.” He groans. He tries to reach across the bed to you, but his grasp falls short by mere centimeters as you frantically begin another scan of the site.

“I will find something, I promise!” You say. “Just one more minute!”

He rolls his eyes. “You said that ten minutes ago. And I’m the one who’s injured, shouldn’t I get to pick?”

You spare him a glance, pondering over his wrapped foot elevated on a pillow, and the bandages around his torso. His arm has fallen flat on his bed, having given up on its attempt to catch you. That alone should guilt you into saying yes; his childhood bed is just shy of too small for his adult self, so being unable to reach the other end speaks to the severity of his pain. And to add salt to the wound, you know he isn’t exactly fond of staying at his father’s house, but he is in no shape to recuperate alone.

“I would say yes, but you don’t know any good shows! All you watch is Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives.”

He scoffs. “I thought you liked that show!”

You scoff back, imitating him. “I did. But a person can only stand so much of Guy Fieri talking with his mouth full.”

He quiets, probably searching for a rebuttal, but you can’t imagine he’ll find any. You use the opportunity to resume your search unimpeded.

After a few minutes, you perk up. “Ooh, they added New Girl on Netflix!” You scoot back over on the bed to his side, satisfied with your choice.

“What is that?” Jason asks.

You whip your head to him. “You don’t know New Girl?”

He pushes a stray hair behind your ear, eyes narrowed. “Should I?”

Your eyes flit to the computer screen, then back to him, and you sigh. “No, I guess not.”

You’re about to press play on the first episode but stop yourself. “Do you want to choose? You’re already hurting enough, I don’t want to torture you with this too. Besides, I’ve seen it, like, a million times anyway.”

“No, it’s okay.” He turns the computer towards him and presses play. “I don’t need any of my siblings barging in and catching me enjoying Guy Fieri. I’d never hear the end of it.”

You titter at his remark and set your laptop in the middle of you, a little farther away so you don’t have to crane your neck to see the screen. He lifts his arm to drape it around you but struggles with raising it past shoulder level. You meet him halfway by ducking underneath his arm and settling it over your shoulders. He kisses the top of your head in thanks.

Leaning against his chest, the rise and fall of his breathing is too hypnotic for you to focus. Paired with the warmth of his skin, bare so as not to obstruct access to his wound dressings, you are quickly lulled to sleep.

It must be several hours later when movement against you disturbs you from sleep. The room is almost pitch black, save for the dim glow of the computer, still on and resting on your legs a few feet away. The air is thick with late-night silence, and fighting against the heaviness of your eyelids is so laborious that you have to use your hand to pry them open. Jason is squirming next to you, hand outstretched, low huffs of pain slipping from his mouth.

A shot of adrenaline courses through you and you stumble into action.

“What happened? What hurts?” The laptop tips off your legs and falls to the bed, landing on its side as you scramble to your knees and face him. “Should I get someone?”

“What? No, I— I’m fine, why?” He squints at you through the darkness.

“You—” Your throat catches and you take a deep, steadying breath. “It sounded like you were in pain.”

“No, honey, I’m fine. It’s okay. You can go back to sleep.” Jason takes your wrist and gently pulls you back into his side. You don’t budge.

“Then why were you moving?” You scan him for any signs of a worsening injury. Downplaying his own pain is not something you can put past him, unfortunately.

“I…” His eyes look past you for a quick second. He swallows. “I wasn’t,” he says, unconvincingly.

You narrow your eyes at him, then turn around to see what he is looking at, despite his (false) reassurances. Your laptop, still on its side, lies awake and open to the Netflix website. You pick it up to get a closer look at the screen. The player has gone dark, and overcast in white lettering; ‘New Girl: Are you still watching?’

You turn back to Jason, dumbfounded. “You risked hurting yourself…for this?”

Now adjusted to the darkness, you can see his cheeks tinged with pink. “No?”

“Jason.”

“You’re the one who put it on!”

You check the clock in the corner of the screen.

“It’s three AM, Jay. You need to sleep if you want your body to heal.” You argue.

“It wasn’t on purpose!” He defends. “I can’t sleep sitting up, and I need help lying down.” he fails to meet your eyes as he says this.

You cross your arms, tilting your face to catch his gaze. “And what am I doing here?”

“I didn’t want to wake you up,” he mumbles.

You just stare. It takes fifteen seconds for him to break.

“Fine. I was enjoying the show. I wanted to keep watching. Happy?” He punctuates his statement with a shrug but groans through a clenched jaw, remembering the injuries to his upper body.

“Okay, just—” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers. “It’s too late for this. Can we please go to sleep?” You don’t wait for an answer, shutting the laptop and placing it on the bedside table.

He leans off the headboard so you can help him shift his body down the bed and lie flat, and you lie down next to him.

“Comfy?” You ask.

“Yes.”

“Need anything?”

“No.”

“Okay. Goodnight,” you whisper. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Jason says quietly.

You snuggle into his side. It’s quiet for a few minutes, but you can tell by his breathing pattern that he’s still awake. He whispers your name into the darkness, hoping you’re still awake.

“Yes, honey?” You answer.

There is a beat of silence. Then, “When do Nick and Jess get together?”

“Go to sleep.”

ii.

Jason leans against the kitchen counter behind him, hands in his pockets, as he watches the microwave dish spin in a slow circle. It whirs under the yellow lightbulb, the flat paper packet puffing up among raucous popping. With sixty seconds left to kill, he searches the cabinets for a large enough bowl to fit the family-size packet of popcorn, as well as the various add-ons you adore.

The first time you invited Jason over for a movie night, in the beginning stages of your relationship, he looked on in wonder as you combined the grocery store’s entire snack aisle into one salty, sugary, buttery abomination in a jumbo Hello Kitty bowl.

“How do you even come up with something like this?” He had asked, ripping open the bag of pretzels as you emptied the fresh batch of popcorn into the bowl.

“Wait!” You stopped him just before he could pour the pretzels in. “Sugary stuff first. While it’s still hot. Then it gets all melty and good.” You dumped an entire bag of mini marshmallows, caramels, and M&M’s in, and gave it a few stirs. “And to answer your question, I was in high school and experiencing intense munchies.”

You gave him the OK to add the pretzels, so he did. “I envy your dentist,” he said, and you stuck your tongue out at him.

Now, with plenty more movie nights under his belt, you trusted him enough to assemble your party mix on his own while you select something to watch.

The microwave beeps. As he rips open the popcorn bag, you yell from the living room.

“Hey, what about The Bourne Identity?” You call out. “Have you—? Wait.” You cut yourself off.

“What’s it about?” He yells back. You don’t answer. “Babe?” He calls again.

“Never mind! I’m gonna keep looking!”

He adds the sugary snacks first, stirring them until they melt, just how you like it. He’s tearing into the bag of pretzels when he hears you shriek.

He drops the bag and bolts to the living room, pretzels scattering all over the counter and floor.

“What happened?” His eyes bounce around the entire room, scanning for any threat.

He’s unsure what he expected to find, but it was a tad more perilous than you simply sitting on the couch, staring open-mouthed at the TV.

“Uh…nothing. Sorry.” Your face flushes. The remote is still raised and pointed at the screen.

“Vol…tron?” Jason reads from the title sequence that plays in the preview window. “Is this some kind of anime?”

“No…sort of, maybe,” you say. “It doesn’t matter. I'm just surprised to see it is all. I loved this show when I was younger.”

“Is it any good?” He asks.

You look to the side, thinking about it. You settle on: “Define good.”

His forehead wrinkles, mouth falling slightly open. “Did you…enjoy watching it?”

“Define enjoy.”

“Okay, forget I asked.” He sighs and goes back to the kitchen.

When he returns a few minutes later, floor pretzels in the trash and counter pretzels swept into the bowl, you’re already watching the first episode.

“This your choice?” He asks. You take the bowl in your lap and he settles down next to you, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“Definitely not. Just wanted to reminisce until you got back.” You frown at the bowl. “Where are all the pretzels?”

He chuckles. “That’s what you get for screaming. Dropped ‘em on the floor.”

You pout. “I didn’t scream. I was surprised. Now the ratio’s off, there’s not enough saltiness to balance the sweetness.”

“Poor baby,” he croons sarcastically. “Only getting a quarter bag of pretzels ‘stead of a full.”

You were going to switch the television to a movie you both liked, but you spent the entire first episode bickering about the important role each ingredient plays in, what you call, “The Party Mix Experience”. The next episode auto-played on its own, and you let it.

During the second episode, you and Jason were absorbed in a competition to see who could catch more flying popcorn pieces in their mouth (Jason), which then devolved into seeing who could dodge more popcorn kernels thrown to the face (also Jason).

By the beginning of episode three, you settled into meaningless chatter while paying half-hearted attention to the TV screen, and by the end, you were laid out on the couch, head in Jason’s lap, while you scrolled on your phone and he stroked your hair. You drifted to a light sleep, coaxed by his fingers scratching at your scalp.

When you wake from your nap, there’s a blanket draped over you and Jason’s hand is still settled in your hair. You push yourself up to sit beside him, speaking through a yawn. “How long was I asleep?”

Jason adjusts the blanket so it covers both of you. “Um…I dunno. Three episodes, maybe.”

“You’re still watching,” you remark, as the end credits for episode six begin to roll.

He says nothing. You both stare as the auto-play timer for the next episode counts down. Next to the remote, his fingers twitch.

You purse your lips, suppressing a grin. “You know, there’s quite an online community for people who like this show.”

“Ha. Were you part of it?” He muses.

“Yup. And I deserve a medal of valor for my time in those trenches.” You kiss his cheek and stand up, stretching your arms. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he says. His voice is low and gravelly with weariness.

You turn toward the bedroom when a call of your name stops you.

“Is it just me, or is something goin’ on between the red guy and the blue guy?”

“Oh, honey,” you sigh. It’s loud and pitying. You bend down to cup his cheek and draw him in for a kiss. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Babe!” He yells after you as you disappear into the bedroom. “You didn’t answer my question!”

iii.

It’s only a Hallmark movie, but with how he’s reacting, it might as well be six hours of paint drying. Jason is not eager to spend his night watching some boring, formulaic cliché, but it's late and you don't have anything better to do.

“That is absolutely not true,” he says when you counter his protests with this excuse.

“It’s two o’clock in the morning, Jay. Is there anything else to do, except sleep?” You rub your tired eyes. Both of you could use some sleep but, burrowed as you are under a pile of blankets, moving all the way from the couch to the bed seems impossible.

He leans in close, lips brushing against your ear. “I can think of a few things.”

His warm breath tickles your neck, and you feel a shiver despite the heat you’ve conserved in your little blanket burrito. The faintest of kisses is pressed behind your ear, and his eyes glint with familiar mischief when he pulls back.

You brush him off, rolling your eyes in amusement. “Do any of those things involve flannel-wearing farmer hunks or the True Meaning of Christmas?”

Turning back to the television, you take the remote from his hands, catching the tail end of a disgruntled mumble about how ‘I can buy a flannel…’

He grumbles a few more complaints during the movie’s first act (‘he’s not even that hunky’) before you scold him to silence. Once he’s quieted, and you settle more comfortably into him, your head is nestled securely in the crook of his shoulder with arms wrapped around his bicep. The warmth of him has you fighting against the tempting call of REM. Right around when the independent, successful, businesswoman protagonist discovers the handsome, flannel-clad man who helped repair her car is also the single father who runs an honest family business, you start to drift off, falling asleep amid thoughts of wearing plaid in the countryside.

You open your eyes to find yourself standing in a vast, open field.

Thump. Thump.

It’s unclear where the sound is coming from, but a splash of red in your periphery stands out. You turn; there’s a barn off in the distance.

Thump.

Your legs carry you in its direction. Growing closer by the second, the thumping sound echoes louder in your ears. When you round the corner of the structure, the front doors are propped wide open by cement blocks, and bales of hay are stacked outside the doors. A large figure, whose back is to you, is lugging a bale by its straps. He hauls it onto his shoulder, and his shirtsleeves tighten around his thick arms. He brings it to the barn, tossing it onto a pile of more hay bales. It lands with that same thump.

When he turns around, it’s in slow motion.

The sleeves of his plaid flannel are rolled up his arms, exposing his large, veiny forearms. Under the flannel, he sports a simple white t-shirt, jeans, and work boots that give him an extra inch of height. His face and chest are shiny with sweat, and his shirt is soaked through. He holds a toothpick between gritted teeth.

It’s Jason. In a cowboy hat.

He takes off his hat and runs a hand through his hair. Its dampness makes it stay slicked back rather than settling into its usual shape where little curls are always falling over his eyes. Then, he sees you. A slow, sly grin spreads across his face. He puts his hat back on and removes the toothpick so he can speak.

“Hey there, little lady,” he drawls lazily, the Gotham accent you’re so accustomed to replaced with a southern twang. It does something to you that you’re a little embarrassed to admit. He looks you up and down, pausing above your knee for a split second before continuing.

“Hi,” you say, averting your gaze from where it had zeroed in on a droplet of sweat running down his neck. Your face burns redder than his beautifully sun-kissed cheeks.

He chuckles. “You jus’ gonna stand there or you gonna lend a hand? Compost ain’t gonna turn itself.”

He easily hauls up another bale, and you follow him into the barn.

You watch as he shirks it onto the pile, then repeats with the remaining few bales. He seems to forget you’re standing there as he gets so absorbed in his work, expression tightening in focus. You lean on the wooden post behind you and soak it in; every sound, every flexed muscle, every display of firm strength has you feeling like the air has been punched out of you. He carries the final bale into the barn and his low grunt as he throws it off his shoulder has a swooning sigh escape you. It catches his attention.

Your chest tightens in embarrassment as he prowls closer. He leans over you, hand against the wooden post right above your head. With him this close, a smattering of freckles is visible over the bridge of his nose, likely due to all the sun exposure. Huffing and sweaty, his eyes drag down your face and stop at your mouth. He swallows hard, and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.

He lifts his free hand to trace over the thin strap of your top. His fingers ghost over the skin, barely touching. “This is pretty,” he says, voice low. “What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ all the way out here?”

And you just can’t help it anymore. You lurch up to him, desperate to close the space between you. You kiss him hard, and he kisses you back, his hand rising from your shoulder to grip the side of your neck. His thumb brushes your jaw, and your hands grip the material of his flannel, yanking it down to bring him even closer. You pull him against you so roughly that your head bumps the post behind you from the force. He smirks, teasing, into the kiss as his hand comes to cup the back of your head.

“Easy, sweetheart. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” After getting his fill from your lips, he slowly graces a path to your neck, kissing, licking, and nipping as he goes. His relaxed leisure perfectly juxtaposes your frantic hunger for him.

You grip his face and pull his mouth back to yours, kissing him with even more fervor. You take his bottom lip between your teeth, biting down with little care for gentleness, and tug at the skin. He groans, and it rumbles deep in his throat. You soothe the spot with your tongue, and your eyes roll back into your head at the salty taste of his skin. As his tongue slides between your lips, he removes the hand that’s leaning onto the post and settles it on the skin of your thigh. It drags upward, feeling every inch of skin on his fingertips before disappearing under the hem of your skirt. At the same time, your hands slide down his body. His touch explores higher, and yours slips under his shirt to ground yourself on the hard skin of his abdomen, which has become slick with sweat.

The sound you make is debauched, coming from the deepest recesses of your stomach. He pulls back, wearing a cheeky smile. He opens his mouth to speak and says—

“Wait, what the fuck?”

You jerk awake. Jason is yelling.

“Why would you go with him?” He exclaims at the TV, and then turns to exclaim to you, “Why would she go with him?”

You stare at him, agape, trying to process your surroundings and asking yourself what just happened.

“Shit. Were you asleep?” Jason puts his outrage on hold.

You nod. “Yeah— yes.” Your voice comes out scratchy and hollow. “I was.”

“Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to wake you up,” he says. His eyebrows furrow. “Are you hot?”

“What?”

“You look warm.” He presses the back of his hand to your flushed neck. “Is it too many blankets?”

Though his hand is cool, you feel even warmer, the image of his hand gripping that same spot of your neck flashing through your mind.

“I’m…good,” you say. “I think I’ll go to bed.” You dig yourself out of the shell of blankets and stand, but he doesn’t follow.

“Oh.” Jason glances at the TV, which is still in a commercial break. “You— did you want me to come?”

You don’t know what to say.

“The, uh…” He runs a hand through his hair, and you have to stifle a gasp. “The guy from her successful city life tracked her down to the small town to get back together. She said yes.” Then he sighs, sounding genuinely distressed. “There’s no way they’d end it like that, right? He was awful to her!”

At this, you crack a smile. “Do you want to finish the movie, Jason?” A hint of satisfaction seeps into your tone.

He clears his throat. “…Maybe.”

You plop back down on the couch with a hum. He interlaces your fingers and kisses the back of your hand before redirecting his attention to the screen.

“Babe?” You ask.

“Hm?” He answers, not looking away from the movie.

“Do you own any flannels?”

SAVE A HORSE RIDE A COWBOYYYYYYY

love when u leave messages and feedback it feeds my praise kink

for part one: cut to me sitting up in bed shrugging my shoulders over and over again to see which muscles it uses and if that coincides with the injuries i gave him to see if that action causing him pain makes sense (it was inconclusive so i made his injuries vague oopsie)

for part two: the bourne identity (2002) is a movie about a guy named jason who wakes up not knowing where or who he is and somehow has elite training in combat and surveillance, though he doesn't know where it's from. he runs around functioning on pure instinct to survive while getting bits of his memory back, remembering that whoever he worked for was cutthroat, expected him to obey no matter what, and forget the person he used to be before joining their mission. sound familiar?

for part three: cut to me genuinely tweaking while proofreading bc i let my friend read it and so rereading it, knowing that she read it, was so embarrassing. i was screaming into my pillow & it took 20 minutes to get through 2k words bc i had to keep taking breaks. not an exaggeration

If any of you saw me change the theme of my masterlist 5 times yesterday only to change it back to what it was before…no you didn’t

#jason todd #red hood #batman #red hood x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader #nightwing #dick grayson #jason todd x you #batfamily #dc universe #dc comics #dcu #dc robin #robin #bruce wayne

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callsigns-haze · 4 months ago

Text

Little life

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin has always been the centre of attention, but behind the cocky aviator façade, he cherishes quiet nights at home with his pregnant wife, Y/N, as they navigate love, routine, and a life the squad knows nothing about.

Warning: This fic contains fluff, pregnancy themes, and light teasing romance.

Word count: 1068 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

English is not my first language so I apologies for mistakes

Part 2 Part 3

Jake Seresin was a man who always seemed to attract attention. With his easy charm and cocky grin, women flocked to him the moment they laid eyes on him. It happened every time—at the bar, after missions, during social events. The second a woman saw him, they’d saunter over, usually with a flirtatious smile, batting their lashes, asking him to buy them a drink.

And every time, without fail, Jake turned them down.

It confused the entire Dagger squad. They’d tease him relentlessly about it, nudging him with raised brows and playful smirks, wondering why someone like him—someone who had the looks, the swagger, the perfect call sign—never took the bait. They couldn’t figure him out. To them, Jake seemed like the type to indulge in a little fun, to soak up the attention and enjoy the benefits of being the golden boy.

But Jake wasn’t interested.

Not anymore.

Because the truth was, when Jake wasn’t flying missions or teasing his teammates, he was at home in Texas, living a life no one suspected. He had a routine, a life outside of the cocky, brash aviator persona he wore like a second skin.

That life began with you.

You sat at your desk, soft lighting casting a warm glow over your latest manuscript. The smell of ink and freshly brewed tea hung in the air, and the quiet hum of a summer night filtered through the open window. You were three months pregnant now, the couple married for a month now, and the bump had just started to show beneath your oversized sweater, a fact Jake never missed when he was home.

He sat nearby, like always, in his favourite armchair. His legs stretched out casually, one arm slung over the back, while the other held a half-empty glass of whiskey. His eyes weren’t on the drink, though—they were on you, as they always were.

You highlighted another line in your manuscript, frowning a little as you moved the neon marker across the page. The ruler in your hand—one you used to make sure your lines were perfectly straight—had gotten a little too stained with colour, and without thinking, you reached out and wiped the edge of the ruler off on Jake’s hand.

He chuckled, low and warm, shaking his head in amusement. “You know, sweetheart, there are other ways to clean that thing. Ever heard of tissues?”

You glanced at him, giving a half-smile as you continued working. “Maybe. But I prefer you.”

That made him grin wider. “Lucky me, then.”

It had become a sort of routine for the two of you, especially now that you were pregnant and he was often gone on missions. When he was home, though, there was no place Jake would rather be than right here, with you, basking in the quiet moments. To anyone else, he was “Hangman”—the sharp-tongued aviator with an ego the size of Texas itself. But with you, he was just Jake, the man who found peace in the most mundane of moments.

He loved watching you work. The way your brow would furrow in concentration, how you’d absentmindedly tuck your hair behind your ear, or bite your lip when you were thinking through a tricky plot point. Jake would tease you for your little quirks, leaning over to plant a quick kiss on the top of your head when he couldn’t resist anymore.

“Need any help there, author of mine?” he’d ask, his voice teasing but soft.

You’d roll your eyes in response, but your smile always gave you away. “I think I’ve got it covered, flyboy.”

Jake would laugh and go back to his drink, but you knew he liked being part of your world like this. When you’d first met, you had been a rising star in the literary world, already on your way to becoming a bestselling author. You were about to turn 20 in a couple weeks just before you wandered into 27 year old Jakes life. Jake never made a big deal about it, though he’d brag quietly to himself every time he saw one of your books displayed in airport bookstores. No one in the squad had any idea who you were, much less that you and Jake were married. And he liked it that way. He liked keeping this part of his life private, away from the chaos of the outside world.

With you, everything was simpler. Real.

Jake loved you in ways no one ever saw. He loved you in the stolen kisses between your sentences, in the lazy mornings in bed when you pressed your nose against his chest, in the quiet I love you’s whispered as he pulled you close late at night. You were his world—everything else was just noise.

As you finished another page, you sighed softly, stretching your arms above your head. Jake’s gaze was on you in an instant, taking in the slight curve of your stomach, his eyes filled with warmth and pride. He got up from his chair and moved behind you, his large hands coming to rest on your shoulders, gently kneading away the tension that had built up from hours of working.

“Time to take a break, darlin’,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple.

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a moment. “Just a little longer. I’m almost done.”

Jake let out a soft laugh, low and teasing. “That’s what you said an hour ago.”

You smiled, but your body relaxed under his hands. You couldn’t deny that the warmth of his touch and the quiet affection in his voice had a way of making you forget the world for a while.

“Alright, alright,” you relented, setting your highlighter down. “But only because you’re so persuasive.”

Jake grinned, pressing a kiss to your neck before straightening up. He turned your chair around so you were facing him, his hands on either side of the armrests, caging you in. His eyes sparkled with that mischievous glint he always had when he was about to say something that would make your heart race.

“Darlin’, I don’t need to be persuasive,” he drawled, his Southern accent thick and smooth. “I’m your favourite distraction, remember?”

You laughed, shaking your head as he leaned in closer. “You’re impossible, Jake.”

“And you love me for it,” he said, his lips brushing against yours before kissing you softly, his hand resting on your belly, feeling the life growing inside you.

And he was right, even though he was nearly seven years older—you did love him for it.

I may or may not have made this into a mini series so let me know if you'd like to be tagged

Part 2 Part 3

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman seresin #jake hangman fic #hangman top gun #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman x reader

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dreamauri · 1 month ago

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♪ — 𝗚𝗢𝗟𝗗𝗘𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 oscar piastri x girlfriend! reader (fluff) fic summary . . . Oscar Piastri can't help but gush about his girlfriend in every interview, effortlessly weaving you into his conversations with pride and admiration

( main naster list | more of oscar piastri ) ( requests )

Oscar Piastri had a habit—one that everyone in the paddock noticed almost immediately. He couldn’t stop talking about his girlfriend. And not just in the offhand, casual way people might expect, like a passing mention here or there. No, when Oscar talked about you, it was like flipping a switch. His entire demeanor softened, his eyes lit up, and his words came tumbling out with an earnestness that left no room for doubt: he was absolutely, irrevocably smitten, and he made sure the world knew it.

It started innocently enough during an interview early in his rookie season. The journalist had asked about his study habits for learning new tracks, expecting a typical response about simulator hours or reviewing footage. But Oscar, with that easy grin of his, took a completely different direction. “I mean, I’ve seen how my girlfriend studies for her exams, so this should be pretty easy,” he said with a playful shrug. Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he added, “She’s top of her class, by the way.” The pride in his voice was palpable, his expression glowing with admiration. The journalist couldn’t help but chuckle, already mentally jotting down notes to find out more about this mysterious academic powerhouse who clearly had Oscar wrapped around her finger.

And that was just the beginning.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

During a fan stage Q&A, he managed to take things up a notch. A young fan asked how he stays calm under pressure, and Oscar didn’t even need a moment to think. He leaned into the mic, his face lighting up in that boyish, unfiltered way of his. “Oh, that’s easy. The other night, my girlfriend—she’s a top athlete, by the way—was prepping for this big event she had. Watching her manage everything so smoothly kind of puts my little race stress into perspective.”

The crowd’s reaction was immediate: a mix of cheers, laughter, and a collective ‘aww’ that made Oscar’s cheeks flush faintly. He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, like he hadn’t just melted half the audience’s hearts with a single sentence. The sincerity in his tone was undeniable, and the moment was all the more charming because it was clear Oscar didn’t think he was doing anything out of the ordinary. He was just telling the truth, proud and in awe of you as always.

But even then, he wasn’t done. “Honestly,” he added with a laugh, “if I handled pressure half as well as she does, I’d be unstoppable.” It was a line delivered with such casual reverence that it didn’t just make the fans smile—it left them convinced that Oscar Piastri wasn’t just a rising star in Formula 1; he was also a contender for the title of world’s best boyfriend.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Then there was the time he was caught on McLaren’s YouTube channel, unabashedly gushing about how much he loved going shopping with you. It started as a casual behind-the-scenes segment—just Oscar and Lando killing time between commitments. But when the topic of hobbies came up, Oscar’s eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas.

“No, seriously,” he began, animatedly waving his hands as Lando looked at him like he’d lost the plot. “She’s got this incredible eye for things. Like, we’ll walk into a store, and she’ll just pick something up and instantly know it’s perfect. I don’t even know how she does it.”

Lando, ever the mischief-maker, raised an eyebrow. “And what’s your contribution to this magical shopping experience?”

Oscar didn’t miss a beat. “I…carry the bags,” he said with a proud grin. “It’s a good system.”

Lando snorted, muttering, “Golden retriever boyfriend,” under his breath, fully expecting Oscar to deny it. But Oscar, in his usual laid-back way, just shrugged and smiled wider. “I mean, if the shoe fits.” The clip went viral almost instantly, with fans agreeing that if there were ever a category for Boyfriend of the Year, Oscar was already a shoo-in.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Then, there was the time during a press junket when a reporter asked him about his organization skills. The question was meant to highlight how drivers juggle their packed schedules, but Oscar’s response was anything but rehearsed.

He laughed, a warm, self-deprecating sound that filled the room. “Honestly, I would’ve been doomed yesterday if my girlfriend hadn’t reminded me about something I forgot. She’s the organized one in the relationship. I just…drive cars fast and hope for the best.”

The room burst into laughter, a few reporters exchanging amused glances at his candidness. But Oscar just grinned, his expression softening with the unmistakable fondness that always seemed to creep into his voice when he talked about you.

“It’s true,” he added with a shrug, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to openly admit just how much he relied on you. And that was the magic of Oscar Piastri—his genuine, unabashed love for you turned even the simplest of conversations into something that felt warm and unforgettable.

Even in the most casual conversations with fans, you always managed to find your way into the spotlight through Oscar’s words. Like the time a fan brought him a book about racing during an autograph session. He accepted it with a warm smile, flipping through the pages for a moment before looking up. “Oh, my girlfriend loves reading,” he said, almost absentmindedly but with so much fondness it felt deliberate. “She’ll probably finish this before I do and then give me all the highlights. Saves me time.”

The fan giggled, clearly charmed, while the rest of the queue exchanged knowing smiles. It wasn’t just what he said—it was how he said it, like mentioning you was the most natural thing in the world. And for Oscar, it was.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Then there was the post-race interview after one of his toughest performances. He’d started the race in a dismal qualifying position, clawing his way through the pack to secure points in a way that left commentators breathless. By the time he reached the interview pen, his suit was damp with sweat, and exhaustion painted his features. But even then, the familiar warmth of his smile made an appearance as he approached the mic.

“You know,” he began, his voice still catching its breath but steady, “I think a big part of getting through today was remembering something my girlfriend told me.” His words were met with curious expressions from the reporters, who leaned in just a little closer. “She’s amazing at staying positive no matter what, and she’s always reminding me to focus on what I can control.”

He paused for a second, his gaze drifting toward the camera as if he was speaking directly to you. “So, yeah, this one’s for her.”

The sincerity in his voice left no room for doubt. This wasn’t just an offhand mention or a fleeting thought. You weren’t just his girlfriend in name or title—you were his anchor. The way he spoke of you wasn’t just endearing; it was grounding, a reflection of how much you truly meant to him.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

One of the sweetest displays of Oscar’s affection unfolded during a behind-the-scenes McLaren vlog. The team had been filming some candid moments during a break, and the camera panned to Oscar sitting in a corner, scrolling through his phone. His expression was soft, his lips curved into a barely-there smile. Then, as if remembering something, he nudged Lando, who was lounging next to him.

“Oh, look, my girlfriend,” Oscar said, holding up his phone. His voice was tinged with a quiet kind of excitement, like he’d discovered a hidden treasure he couldn’t wait to share. The camera zoomed in just enough to catch the sparkle in his eyes as he looked at the photo. “She sent me this earlier. Isn’t she gorgeous?”

Lando let out an exaggerated groan, flopping dramatically against the couch. “Mate, you’re insufferable,” he muttered, though the amused grin on his face betrayed him. “Do you ever stop?”

“Not when it comes to her,” Oscar replied without missing a beat, his smile growing wider as he looked at the picture one more time before carefully locking his phone.

The clip went viral within hours of the vlog’s release. Fans couldn’t get over how sweet—and utterly smitten—Oscar was. Comments flooded in, praising his open adoration and dubbing him the “ultimate golden retriever boyfriend.”

But for those who knew him, this was just Oscar being himself. No matter where he was or what he was doing, you were always on his mind. And he made sure everyone around him knew just how proud he was to call you his. Whether it was your achievements, your quirks, or simply the way you lit up his life, Oscar never stopped finding ways to weave you into the conversation.

It wasn’t just about the words he said, though. It was the way he said them—with genuine admiration, unwavering pride, and a love so pure it could light up the entire paddock. His tone softened when he spoke about you, his expression grew warmer, and his smile turned just a little brighter.

If Oscar Piastri was the golden retriever boyfriend the world had come to adore, then you were undoubtedly his favorite human, his everything, the one who made all his happiest stories worth telling.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The atmosphere was electric at the Yas Marina Circuit, the tension so palpable it could’ve powered the floodlights. It was the last Grand Prix of the season, and everything was on the line for McLaren—the Constructors' Championship title hung in the balance. Among the sea of orange and black, you stood out—not just because you were there to support Oscar Piastri, but because you radiated an energy that seemed to magnetize the young driver to your side.

From the moment you both arrived on Thursday for media day, fans couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast in your personalities. Oscar, always reserved and thoughtful, seemed content to let you take the lead, his quiet confidence complimented by your vibrant presence. When a fan asked how you two had met, you lit up with a mischievous smile.

“I adopted him when we were in school,” you said, glancing fondly at Oscar, who was shyly smiling at the ground. “I guess he just stuck to my side.”

Oscar, standing beside you, squeezed your hand in his as he chuckled. “Well, it’s hard not to stick to you. You kind of pull people in.”

Throughout the weekend, Oscar was a picture of quiet affection. Whether it was holding your hand, wrapping an arm around you, or resting his chin on your head during quieter moments, his touch was constant. Fans caught glimpses of him whispering things to you that made you laugh, your bubbly personality clearly rubbing off on him in the best ways.

When race day arrived, the stakes were high, and Oscar’s nerves were evident. But even after a dramatic first-lap collision with Max Verstappen that caused him to spin out and drop down the grid, you were still cheering for him like he’d just secured pole position.

By the time the checkered flag waved, McLaren had done it—they’d secured the Constructors' Championship. Despite Oscar’s rocky race, you were beaming with pride as he pulled into the pit lane. Seeing your smile waiting for him made every frustration of the day vanish from his mind.

After the podium celebrations for the team, a surprising transformation unfolded. Your extroverted energy seemed to seep into Oscar as if he’d caught your enthusiasm like a contagious laugh. Gone was the usual quiet and composed Oscar. In his place was a driver buzzing with excitement, grinning from ear to ear as he darted around the paddock.

He didn’t just take pictures with the team; he orchestrated them like a director at a photo shoot. “Lando, get over here! And grab that trophy!” he called, dragging his teammate into a chaotic group photo. When Lando least expected it, Oscar grabbed a bottle of leftover champagne and sprayed him without mercy, laughing so hard he had to lean on you for balance.

“You’re ridiculous!” you teased, wiping the champagne splatter off your face.

Oscar grinned wickedly. “Oh, am I now?” Before you could react, he turned the champagne on you, spraying it in a gleeful arc. You squealed, half-laughing, half-shouting as the fizzy liquid soaked your hair and clothes.

“Oscar!”

He set the bottle down and pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your cheek as if that would make up for it. “You look even better drenched in champagne,” he said, his voice warm and teasing. His giggles, boyish and utterly unguarded, filled the space between you.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile as you ruffled his hair. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

The two of you stood there in the middle of the celebration, drenched in champagne and surrounded by the joyous chaos of the team. Oscar looked at you, his face softening. “I couldn’t have done this without you, you know. Even when it’s rough, you make it all worth it.”

You smiled up at him, brushing a stray lock of hair out of his face. “And I’ll always be here, no matter what.”

#‧˚⊹🪴 ଓ :: 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 ‧₊˚⤾#f1 #formula 1 #formula racing #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri #oscar #op81 #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x y/n #op81 smut #bottom oscar #bottom oscar piastri #f1 fic #formula one x reader

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sooniebby · 4 months ago

Text

ఌ 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑

w.c › 16k

warnings › Part 2 for this post. Ye-Jun is insane. This relationship is pure toxicity, pls don’t stay with someone like this in real life lol. Translations/songs I used at the end. Homophobia/talk of revenge porn of a minor at the end (it’s not done by Ye-Jun)

plot › Kim Ye-Jun is back in your life. And he doesn’t seem too keen on leaving you anytime soon. While you get insight on how brutal fame can be

kinks › size difference, hate sex, oral sex, manhandling, marking, biting, choking, dubcon, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, sub/dom undertones

words to know › maknae (막내) — youngest. Hyung (형) — a term a younger male with call an older male. Jagiya/Jagi (자기야) — “sweetie/baby.” Knets — Korean Netizens, Korean people on the internet. Dispatch — a Korean blog, known for exposing kpop idols relationships

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟮

𝙈𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙚

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

You had left Ye-Jun that night.

It was nerve wracking to get dressed silently as you watched him like a hawk. Your heart pounding in your chest. You weren’t even sure why you were so fearful. But you managed to leave as quiet as a mouse.

You practically sprinted out of the hotel room as the sun was just rising. Your legs carrying you to the bus before you were driven back to the outskirts of Seoul.

Your feet dragged along the ground as you finally reached your apartment building, wanting to collapse onto your bed for the rest of the day.

“Hyung…!”

You froze, finger pressed against the touch pad. The numbers illuminated as they waited for you to press in the passcode. What?

The time was only 8 am. Dohyun was serious about you not coming over until 10 am. Shit, did they really fuck all night?

Another high pitched moan escaped the apartment as you couldn’t help but smirk. Young-Jae was the youngest out of him and Dohyun. So that meant the one screaming had to be him.

It was funny. Young-Jae the strict top that wouldn’t let you even ask if you could top when you were both fuck buddies. You couldn’t even touch or squeeze his ass. The thought of him bottoming wasn’t anything you even imagined.

Dohyun was more muscular than him. Though Young-Jae was taller and had been growing some muscular these past few months.

You knew not every top had to be tall and muscular. But you couldn’t imagine Dohyun bottoming despite his nicer attitude. But Young-Jae hated the thought of bottoming.

An oddly detailed thought of Dohyun and Young-Jae fighting filled your mind. The idea of them fighting for dominance before Dohyun forced Young-Jae to submit was sexy. You giggled to yourself at the thought before a whine from the apartment interrupted you.

A sane person would’ve just left and come back.

But you weren’t exactly sane.

Besides, everyone in the band has seen each other naked once. You’ve unfortunately seen Won-Shik’s bare ass more times than you count. You would just act shocked and pretend you forgot all about Dohyun’s text from last night.

You typed the passcode onto the touch pad. The familiar hum of the lock twisting before you pushed the door open.

“I’m—!”

Your jaw dropped at what you saw on the couch.

Lee Young-Jae was a strict top. Because he had Park Dohyun bouncing on his cock.

Park Dohyun was the one moaning “Hyung”?! Was that a kink?! An older man calling the younger man “Hyung” during sex seemed so odd but also oddly sexy. You could only stare for a moment, trying to process what you were seeing right in front of you.

It was hot too so you were enjoying the sight of Dohyun’s ass. Shit, it was fat.

“Cho (Name)! Get out!” Young-Jae suddenly yelled, grabbing a couch pillow and throwing it over at you.

You shrieked, managing to dodge. Your eyes went back to Dohyun and Young-Jae. Young-Jae looked mostly smug as he tightened his grip on Dohyun’s waist. Dohyun seemed out of it for the most part, his eyes glossy as he buried his face in Young-Jae’s neck.

“Okay! Okay… I’m leaving. You better be finished by 10 am!!! Dohyun Hyungie promised I can come back by then.. also you better deep clean the house, pervert.”

Young-Jae ignored you, absentmindedly pointing to the front door. You rolled your eyes and left the apartment, slamming the door shut behind you.

You went to the apartment right next door, Dohyun, Yuki, and Won-Shik’s apartment, and punched in the code.

Curses were at the tip of your tongue as you walked inside. You got ready to announce your arrival when you noticed Yuki on the couch. He looked nervous, a shy smile on his lips. Your eyes trailed down and a groan left your throat.

Junho was giving Yuki a hand job.

“All of you are perverts!!! Oh my god!! How can you feel safe to do it on the couch?! Perverts!! I’m going to Won-Shik’s room, because at least he has the decency to rent a hotel room when he wants to fuck someone!!!”

You stormed off to Won-Shik’s room while Junho called your name. Yuki bit his lip as he tried hold in his laugh. The door slammed shut right behind you as you laid down on Won-Shik’s bed.

Perverts!

Junho frowned at the sight of you. He had been worried about you all night. Wanting to check on you, he moved to get up when a hand tightened itself on his hair. He winced and glanced up to see a grin on Yuki’s lips.

“I don’t think I gave you permission to stop, Junnie. (Name) can be alone for a few more minutes.”

For fucks sakes.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Where’s your boyfriend, Ye-Jun? Did he leave you again?”

“Shut the fuck up, Minji.”

Ye-Jun plopped down onto the couch in the recording studio, sending a glare to Minji who was cackling beside him. The band was recording for an upcoming single. Ye-Jun was late by an hour and had unfortunately woken up to the feeling of an empty bed.

You really knew how to piss him off.

“Don’t bully him, Minji. Ye-Jun has a sensitive heart.” Shion said, stepping out of the recording booth. “He’ll go crazy if you remind him his boytoy left him like a one night stand.”

Manager Riwoo sighed. “Can you boys not talk about that type of stuff during recording? You’re not the only ones in here.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking ready to retire at the ripe age of 30.

Shion shrugged. “It’s just you and the composer. Everyone knows by now how much Ye-Jun has an unhealthy obsession with Cho (Name).”

“It’s not unhealthy.” Ye-Jun muttered.

Minji released another cackle at Ye-Jun’s audacity as he walked into the recording booth to record his lines. His laughter could still be heard despite the padded room. Manager Riwoo shook his head and turned his attention over to Minji and the composer.

The couch dipped as Shion plopped down beside Ye-Jun, resting his arm on the others shoulder. Shion was the eldest of the band but had passed on leadership onto Ye-Jun. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t put Ye-Jun into check whenever he deemed necessary.

Like now.

“I don’t care if Cho (Name) has the tightest ass you’ve ever fucked. You better keep yourself contained in public.” Shion whispered, leaning in close so only Ye-Jun could hear.

“Those Knets are sharks, waiting for the slight hint of controversy. Control yourself. Be unhinged in private. Don’t pull a stunt like that at the music show again, okay?”

Ye-Jun rolled his eyes. “Should I stop commenting on his posts?”

“I would like that but you have a limit on how much you listen to your hyung, don’t you?”

A smirk pulled on Ye-Jun’s lips as he tilted his head. Shion looked unimpressed as he sighed.

“Just start liking all of their posts. Knets only like the thought of you possibly being gay. The chance that you are actually gay will be a death sentence.” Shion tapped Ye-Jun’s shoulder before standing up, grabbing his baseball cap to put on.

“I’m heading out, Riwoo Hyung.”

The door closed behind Shion as Ye-Jun watched him leave. It wasn’t like he didn’t take Shion’s words to heart. He knew he was right. Fans only liked the thought of an idol being gay. Him being a band member wouldn’t mean much when many kpop idol fans merge with regular kband fans.

They were rapid and insane either way. Ye-Jun knew he tested his luck that day when he kissed you on stage.

Even though he wanted you—he did love his job.

He sighed. He’d get a headache if he continued to think about this any longer. He pulled out his phone and checked the time.

There was something more important right now.

The fact you thought you could leave him without saying goodbye.

Again.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“I really am the only straight man here.” Won-Shik moaned, resting his face in his hands as he silently cried to himself. You patted him on back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to comfort him.

Young-Jae still looked smug. “Lighten up, Hyung! Maybe you’ll find a man you wanna fuck and become gay!”

Won-Shik looked over at Young-Jae with a shocked face. “Don’t even say that… I can never abandon the touch of a woman! I’ll be a fool to trade that in for a man’s disgusting hands.”

“Bisexuality exists. Anyway, Jae-Ah, don’t say that. It’s wrong to force a sexuality onto someone.” Dohyun said, shaking his head.

The band was in your apartment, having a movie night. Well, as much as you guys could anyway. It seemed no one was paying enough attention to even pick out a movie on Netflix.

It had been over a week or so since you had sex with Ye-Jun and he hadn’t texted you. You thought maybe he had gotten some sense and left you alone.

Until Roha had texted you yesterday that Ye-Jun’s phone got destroyed—how? You don’t know—and that he’d be getting a new phone in a few days.

You were already dreading the day.

The band had gotten back to normal relatively quickly. Except Young-Jae seemed to think he was hot shit now. Though you knew why. Young-Jae had pined over Dohyun for over four years.

You’d allow him the month to be a dick and then knock some sense into him after.

Yuki walked over two pizza boxes, placing them on the coffee table in front of the couch. Junho was right behind him, holding some blankets.

“Junho Hyung, there’s some white stuff on your lips.” Young-Jae suddenly said.

Junho gasped, dropping the blankets as he quickly wiped at his mouth. Young-Jae and Won-Shik immediately bust out laughing while Dohyun sighed in disappointment at their childish behavior.

“Did you suck Yuki’s dick earlier?!” Won-Shik managed to say despite his laughing.

“I hate you guys.” Junho sighed, bending down to pick up the blankets. He walked over and dropped the blankets on Young-Jae’s head, earning a strangled grunt from the weight of them.

Yuki seemed unbothered by their teasing as he sat down beside you on the couch. He gave you a paper plate and took out two pizza slices for you. You thanked him and began eating, humming in delight.

“How are you and Kim Ye-Jun? Did you guys talk it out?” He asked, looking over at you.

“Mhm… he talked at me. I found out about how he thinks.” You muttered, rolling your eyes. “He called me pathetic but that’s why he wants me.”

“Ah, we have something in common.”

You froze mid bite, looking over at Yuki with a raised eyebrow. Yuki only gave you a wide grin.

“I find Junho pathetic. It’s why I like him.”

“Ah.” Your voice muffled by the pizza as you tried to ignore Yuki’s sudden confession. You knew Yuki could be a bit odd to anyone that wasn’t you. The thought that it would affect Junho made you feel a bit nervous. But you knew Junho would rather jump off a bridge than ever tell you about his relationship with Yuki.

He was the one that was trying to hide it anyway. Yuki was an open book. You could ask him if he masturbated today and he’d answer honestly.

Was his relationship with Yuki similar to yours with Ye-Jun?

Well, Yuki still had morals and didn’t seem to bad mouth Junho so maybe not totally similar.

You remembered the time your band was on a variety show during your debut. The host had called Junho an idiot with only his muscles being the good thing about him. It was a joke, the host was known for making off putting jokes.

Manager Nayoung had drilled that in you guys before the filming.

That didn’t matter to Yuki though. He had cussed out the host. Having to switch to Japanese when he felt that he couldn’t properly speak his feelings in Korean.

Anyway that episode was heavily edited and your band wasn’t invited to that show again. It was for the best. You were pretty sure Yuki’s rant in Japanese would make the Yakuza whimper.

“What do you like about Junho? Is it just that he makes you feel good?” You suddenly asked.

It had slipped out. You didn’t want to ask this with the other members right within ear shot as they began to fight over if they should watch a romcom or horror movie. But you couldn’t help it.

Ye-Jun’s words bothered you.

Yuki hummed. “No. I like his smile. I like how he puts everyone above himself. He’s very motherly. He has dumb jokes but is also shy about sharing his feelings. While he does take care of me, I like taking care of him even when he tries to fight it. He’s just pure. So pure that I want to ruin him. I love him.”

You frowned. What the hell? Why couldn’t Ye-Jun talk about you like this? To hear Yuki talk about Junho like this almost made you want to cry.

He felt so… loved? Does Ye-Jun even love you?

Has he ever told you that he loved you?

The revelation at the thought made you feel bitter so you quickly tried to push it away. You looked over at Yuki and smirked.

“So you top Junnie Hyung?”

“Mhm, yeah.” Yuki said, unabashedly.

“Is it easy? He’s larger than you even though you’re both the same height.”

“He can be pliant. Those muscles are just for show anyway. But I like that he’s bigger than me. Makes it more fun to have him beneath me.”

“Can you both not talk about my sex life like I’m not here?” Junho suddenly said, sitting down beside Yuki. You blushed, muttering an apology to Junho.

“Sorry, Junnie Hyung. I was just curious. I mean, when we had sex you topped me. I wanted to know if you act similar to when you bottom.”

Yuki hummed. “How did he act when he topped?”

“A gentle giant!” You gleamed. “Junnie Hyung didn’t even orgasm that night. He focus solely on me. I felt bad after but he wouldn’t let me take care of him after.”

“Seriously, guys.” Junho muttered, a slight blush on his face. “This is really embarrassing. Can we just watch the movie?”

“Course, my service top.” Yuki said, snickering as Junho looked away with a grimace.

“What’s a service top?” Won-Shik suddenly asked as he sat down on your left.

“Straight people don’t have service tops?” You pursed your lips in confusion.

“Don’t tell him, (Name)! Only tell him when he fucks his first man.” Young-Jae giggled, wincing when Dohyun pinched him on the neck.

Won-Shik glared at Young-Jae and simply grabbed two slices of pizza. The movie began to play after that. It looked like team horror movie won as I saw the Devil began to play.

You mindlessly ate your pizza before a suddenly thought pierced your brain. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

That night you had lied to Ye-Jun about who you slept with. While you were fuck buddies with Young-Jae during your first year as a trainee. You had fucked two other men after him.

Yang Junho. You didn’t want to tell Ye-Jun the truth that night because of how much he seemed to hate him. Deep down you knew Ye-Jun would never hurt you—physically—but that didn’t mean you weren’t scared of what he’d do to Junho.

You hoped to god that Ye-Jun never figured that out.

It was someone else that you worried about Ye-Jun finding out about.

Song Noeul.

At first when you thought about it, Ye-Jun probably wouldn’t have known who he was. Until when you were going on Ye-Jun’s Instagram—you were bored—that you saw Noeul in one of his pictures.

Noeul was first a trainee to be an idol before shifting to be an actor instead. And lucky for you, Noeul was in one of the dramas Black Rose made an OST for.

To make matters worse, Song Noeul looked like a friend to Kim Ye-Jun.

And you didn’t want to know what would happen if Ye-Jun learned that his “friend” fucked you a few years ago.

Yeah, you didn’t want anything bad to happen to Noeul. Or worse you, for lying about Junho.

Of course, luck was never known to be on your side, was it?

❝ 날 그대로 받아들여, 너의 두려운 ❞

It had been a month or so and you had luck on your side. Ye-Jun was too preoccupied with Black Rose’s promotion for their OST to bother you. You practically danced around when he had texted you that he wouldn’t be able to visit you for the next few weeks.

Of course that didn’t stop him from commenting on your posts. He had started to like the other guys posts but still only commented on yours.

Wasn’t too shocking. You and Yuki still were the only ones that posted religiously. Dohyun was a close second.

You were enjoying the two month break the company had given you guys. So of course Yuki took that time to go to back home to Japan, but his parents were nice enough to invite the band to stay two weeks at their home.

So here you were—enjoying Kyoto, Japan. Yuki’s parents were richer than you had imagined but you wouldn’t complain.

You were outside in the parents garden when you decided to take a selfie with the sunset in the background. You kept the caption short and sweet: 잘 자 💤!

@BRseo_minji commented : @BRkim_yejun, your Cho (Name) is saying good night to other men ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

A frown pulled on your lips. Right. The other Black Rose members also started to bother you. Just your luck.

@BRpark_shion responded : get off your phone and pay attention to the interview please

@BRim_roha commented : when do you come back, (Name)-Ah? I want to see you

@BRhwang_hanbin responded : you have a death wish, Roha Hyung??? Ye-Jun Hyung is gonna kill you ㅎㅎㅎ

@BRkim_yejun commented : your smile killed me ㅠㅠ the sunset doesn’t compare to your beauty

@BRpark_shion responded : can you have a little shame?

@BRhwang_hanbin responded : this isn’t you hyung…

@BRim_roha responded : if only you could put this poetic shit into our lyrics…

@BRseo_minji responded : fa—

“Fa—?” You muttered, wondering what Minji could’ve meant. It took a moment before a certain slur popped up in your mind. A smile threatened to leave your lips. That’s not right. You couldn’t laugh, you shouldn’t laugh.

You decided to read the other comments on your post. Mainly fans saying how cute you were. A few commenting on how cool it was that Black Rose was so close to Love Countdown. Some even saying they wanted a future collab. Like hell you’d want that.

Just as you were about to walk inside, your phone began to ring. You groaned at the caller ID.

Kim Ye-Jun.

You wanted to let it ring but another part of you missed his voice. So you reluctantly answered. The sound of bustling laughter and hushed voices escaped your phone as you could make out Roha saying something before it drowned out. A door slammed shut before it was quiet.

“Jagiya?”

Your stomach did an involuntary flip as you bit your lip. “Y..Yes, Kim Ye-Jun?”

“Kim Ye-Jun? It’s Junnie Hyung.” Ye-Jun answered. “What are you doing?”

“You lost the privilege for me to call you that.” You said bluntly, feeling a bit brave that he couldn’t see you. “I’m just checking out Yuki Hyung’s garden back in Kyoto.”

“Is it just you and him alone?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, everyone in the band came to visit. I don’t know why you’re so possessive, Kim Ye-Jun. I’m not yours.”

“Mhm. Anyway, I wanted to apologize about something.”

Your body froze as your breathing hitched. Apologize? Was he going to apologize for what he did? Was he—

“Sorry I haven’t been able to talk to you. I broke my phone when I threw it at Minji a few weeks ago but when I got a new phone I still couldn’t check on you because we had to promote our single for the drama. It’s a romcom I think.”

“Oh.” You tried to hide the disappointment. “Wait, you threw your phone at Seo Minji? What the hell?”

“Yeah. He was talking shit so I made him shut his mouth. But I missed anyway—he’s too fast.”

“But why your phone?”

“It was the only thing in my hand. I would’ve thrown the weights nearby but I wanted something easier to throw.”

“Uhm. You’re talking pretty lightly about attempted murder.”

“I didn’t want him to die. It didn’t even hit him. Anyway, have you been eating?”

You hummed. “Yeah. Uhm. Kim Ye-Jun, do you… like me or something? Why are you still after me when it’s been five years? It didn’t seem like you liked me all that much back then.”

“Like you? I guess I do. You’re my wallpaper on my phone. I look back at our photos back in university.”

“You didn’t delete them…?”

“Why would I? I look bad in them but you look pretty. You always look pretty. Did you delete yours?”

“Ah. Yeah… I did. I didn’t recover them.”

“Oh. Well I’ll just send what I have over to you. You should also put our picture as your wallpaper, shows your taken.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Taken? Yah, Kim Ye-Jun, you’re really funny. Do I not get a choice in being your fuck buddy again?”

“Fuck buddy? No, you’re mine. You don’t get a choice. You never did.”

A sense of dread creeped up your spine as you stood still, taking in his words. Was.. was he serious?

“(Name), Junho Hyung is calling for you.” A voice startled you as you looked back to see Young-Jae walking over to you.

Young-Jae frowned at the look on your face as he glanced at your phone. He mouthed: who’s that?

“Yang Junho? He’s there?”

You almost talked back to him. Of fucking course Junho was there. It was originally supposed to be a couple trip for Junho and Yuki anyway until his parents told him to invite the rest of you. That’s why Junho and Yuki was staying the month while you all were staying the two weeks.

“Kim Ye-Jun?” Young-Jae suddenly said out loud, causing your eyes to widen. He shook his hand and reached out to grab your phone despite your protests. “Yah, Kim Ye-Jun, bother him when he’s back in Seoul. Leave him alone when he’s on vacation.” He hung up right after that.

“Shit. Man, that Kim Ye-Jun is getting on my nerves. He’s so clingy. How do you put up with him?”

You shrugged. “I don’t think I have a choice.”

“I heard he hates Junho Hyung, why? Does he know that you guys fucked? Wait, does he know that we fucked?” Young-Jae asked, his eyes widening.

“I did tell him about us but he didn’t seem to view you as a threat… Maybe he noticed you like Dohyun Hyung. But I.. I lied about my relationship with Junho Hyung. I was just a bit scared.”

“You shouldn’t be afraid of someone. That’s not normal. Do you want to report him or something?”

You sighed. “I’m not sure. What can I realistically report for him? I don’t refuse him when he calls. Yeah I told him to go away but I always end up going back to him.”

“Hm.” Young-Jae sighed, shaking his head. “You need to grow a backbone, (Name)-Ah. Or at the very least, show him that you will have an equal standing in this relationship.”

“What do you mean?”

“He pulls all the punches. If you can’t find it yourself to leave this toxic swamp you’re swimming in, become as equally as toxic. Punch him back.”

“Toxic swamp? Wasn’t that a lyric in our song?”

“Shut up and take my advice.”

“Alright, Alright. I’ll punch him back.”

Young-Jae rolled his eyes before walking back into the house. You followed close behind. Yuki was on the couch with an irritated Junho. Junho looked to be trying to leave but Yuki had his arms wrapped around his waist.

“You called me, Junnie Hyung?” You asked, walking over to them.

“(Name)-Ah,” Junho smiled up at you as he continued trying to pull at Yuki’s tight grip. “Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You looked a bit scared on the phone.”

“You could see me?”

Yuki hummed. “Junho was watching you before I pulled him onto the couch.”

“Wow, you’re like my mom, Junnie Hyung.”

“A mom that fucked you.”

“Yuki Hyung!” Junho swore, glaring at Yuki who could only laugh. He tugged Junho closer and burrowed his face in his muscular back.

“Who were you talking to, (Name)-Ah? Kim Ye-Jun?” Yuki asked.

“Mhm. He was apologizing for not talking to me often.” You muttered.

“But not for allowing his friends to call you a slut?” Junho rolled his eyes, giving up on his attempt to break free from Yuki’s grip.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “He’d never apologize for that. Not unless I force him to. But then it wouldn’t be satisfying.”

“Who’s Kim Ye-Jun?” Won-Shik walked over to you guys, eating an onigiri. “Why do I never know what you guys are talking about?”

“Because you’re straight.” Young-Jae yelled from the kitchen.

“Shut the fuck up, Lee Young-Jae!”

“Kim Ye-Jun from Black Rose.” Dohyun said, walking over with a plate filled with onigiri that he placed on the coffee table in front of the couch. “He’s been bothering (Name).”

“Our maknae?” Won-Shik’s expression stilled as he glanced over at you. “Should I kill him?”

“No—!”

“—yes!”

You stared over at Junho in shock. Junho gave you a sheepish smile. “I’ll make sure I’m Won-Shik’s alibi so we don’t have to continue on as five.”

“You can’t kill him yet.” Was all Dohyun said as the leader, sitting down on the couch. You expected him to oppose such a thing but it seemed he also hated Ye-Jun.

Shit. You couldn’t help but feel giddy at how much your band mates loved you.

You thought back to Young-Jae’s advice. Punch him back. The thought seemed silly because what could you do that would hurt Kim Ye-Jun?

Then you remembered Song Noeul.

You knew what would drive him insane.

You just had to have the guts to pull through with it.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

The two month break flew by fast and it was already May. For the groups comeback, your company decided on a happy and love filled single that felt like running through a field of flowers with your lover.

“Don’t you think these lyrics are a bit too sad, (Name)-Ah?” Dohyun looked over at you. You had given him your journal with lyrics you had written to share for the upcoming single.

“Is it? That’s what I was thinking when the company gave us the theme.” You scooted the rolling chair over to Dohyun. The both of you were in a composing room. Won-Shik and Yuki had already made the melody and recorded a small demo.

You and Dohyun were the ones that usually made the lyrics. Junho and Young-Jae occasionally wrote lyrics for your more angsty or depressing songs.

Your lyrics would always be sappy and happy—sometimes a bit cringy so Dohyun usually had to tweak them a bit.

“Yeah.” Dohyun muttered, looking back down at your journal. “These are a bit sad.”

How deep is your love?

묻고 싶어요

I want to ask

더 깊진 않더라도

Even if it can't be deeper

같을 순 없을까요?

Can't it be the same as mine?

“Oh.” You muttered, reading over the lyrics you wrote. Dohyun was right, this didn’t scream happy love. Your lips pursed into a frown as you flipped to the next page of lyrics you had written in accordance to the demo.

모르길 바라요

I hope you don't know

이런 내 마음을

These feelings

사랑하고 있어도

Even when I'm in love

혼자인 것만 같아

I feel alone.

“Uhm. Why don’t we just use your lyrics. I don’t think we can use these.” You slammed your journal shut and pulled it away from Dohyun, shoving it back into your backpack.

“Are you okay, (Name)-Ah?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

The rest of the session was awkward to say the least. Dohyun seemed fidgety as if he wanted to talk to you but also didn’t want to scare you away.

You appreciated your hyung but you also didn’t want to admit that Kim Ye-Jun had such an effect on you after all these years.

What did you even like about him?

What was he to you?

“Y’know,” Dohyun suddenly whispered. “For the Love’s Fool album, the lyrics I put in there were about Jae.”

You froze, looking over at Dohyun in shock. “Huh? Really?”

“Mhm. The third song in the album is basically about Jae. Purely about the guilt I felt for falling in love with him. Seeing him as something more than my dongsaeng.”

“The third song.. But that’s the only upbeat song on the album.”

“I know. We can still use your lyrics even if they’re sad. But I mainly wanted to tell you that you don’t have to feel embarrassed about writing lyrics on Kim Ye-Jun. Junho’s songs are mostly about past relationships anyway.”

“Junho Hyung had past relationships?”

Dohyun grinned. “Your Junho hyung was a little too outgoing back during our trainee days. Though he’d never tell you.”

It was silent for a moment as you watched Dohyun begin to add a few of your lyrics into his own, mixing them around to have a perfect flow and rhythm that matched the composition.

After a moment or so, you decided to try and forget all about your problems by being a menace.

“Hyungie, remember when I caught you and Jae Hyung fucking? Why did you look so out of it? If I didn’t know Jae Hyung, I would’ve been worried that he was taking advantage of you.”

Dohyun blushed, his pen dragging against the paper as he began to stutter. It took a moment before he could even say anything.

“Sub.. Sub space. I was in sub space. That’s all.”

“Sub space? What’s that?”

“It’s just a mental feeling a submissive can get into during sex. I was a bit scared being in it, I’ve never experienced it before. But it’s not dangerous. Jae knew how to take care of me.”

“Not fair… I’ve never experienced that!” You whined, pouting your lips. “Does it feel good?”

“I guess. It makes me feel safe now.”

You thought back to the sex you’ve had these past few years. The feeling that Dohyun had described and the one you had seen with your own eyes seemed foreign. There were a few times you felt tired after sex… but that’s normal.

Dohyun had looked completely out of it—like he was on another planet. You’ve never had that feeling.

Was it because Dohyun trusted Young-Jae?

A few hours later you and Dohyun left the company building. Dohyun went his separate way—having a dinner with his parents for his dad’s birthday.

You absentmindedly hummed to yourself as you pulled out your phone. Who could you bother for the night? Your finger swiped across the screen as you scrolled through your contacts.

The scroll stopped right on Roha’s number. He did say to contact him whenever you were back.

Despite being Ye-Jun’s friend, you liked Roha separately from him. You could be Roha’s friend without Ye-Jun’s permission! You were a grown adult. So, you called Roha and hoped he was free for some tteokbokki.

“Why did you want me to lie to Ye-Jun?”

Roha asked, a smug expression on his face as he took a sip of his beer. You grinned sheepishly as you poked at your salad. The two of you were at a small tteokbokki restaurant that you used to visit here often back in your uni days.

“You don’t have to tell Ye-Jun everything. Are you his child?” You set on asking, eyeing Roha nervously.

“No,” Roha shrugged. “Your relationship to me is separate from Ye-Jun. I never told him the things you told me.”

You perked up at that. “Really..? That means…?”

“No, he doesn’t know that you’ve played the violin since you were in diapers. He never asked so I never told him. If he likes you, he’d want to learn things about you.”

“Wow. How are you and Ye-Jun even friends? You seem so different?”

“If I haven’t met Ye-Jun back in elementary school I wouldn’t be friends with him.” Roha answered, shoving a tteokbokki in his mouth. “Not everyone can handle him… But you seem to be able to.”

“I don’t know about that.” You muttered.

“You haven’t reported him or anything. Or filed a complaint. Or done anything to get him to truly back off.”

“Yeah… But…”

“It’s okay, (Name). The heart is confusing.” Roha looked up at you. “Are you going to let him continue to have total control over the relationship? Back in university you used to dog walk him with ease.”

“I did?” You questioned, tilting your head in confusion. “How…?”

“You technically didn’t do much. You acted like yourself. Because in the end—Kim Ye-Jun can’t handle you being angry at him.”

“Hm. Well it doesn’t even feel like he likes me. Just that he feels like he owns me.”

“That’s probably how he thinks. Ye-Jun isn’t good with expressing himself. He doesn’t write lyrics for our romantic songs. He’s always had this tendency to think he owns people that he loves.”

“Does he think he owns you?”

“He used to. Until I socked him in the face when he tried to forbid me from doing something.” Roha smirked. “Then he learned he had a limit on how much he could “try” to control me.”

“Does he think he owns the other band members?”

“Course. His family is odd, I think that’s where he got that idea. His older brother acts the same way. Even their mother.”

You froze at the mention of Ye-Jun’s family. He never spoke to you about them. Though you couldn’t get too mad about that. It was the same for you never mentioning your parents.

“Does his…—?”

“—family know you? Yeah. He always sent pictures of you to them. You just never met them because they live in Jeju. If they didn’t, you would’ve been met them.”

“Oh. Wait you’re from Jeju Island?”

“Yeah. Did I never tell you? Ah, anyway. Was there something you wanted to ask about Ye-Jun? Or did you really want to hang out with me?”

You pouted. “I did want to hang out with you…”

Roha raised an eyebrow.

“…Both. I did have a question about Ye-Jun. Is he close to Song Noeul?”

“Song Noeul? The actor? Yeah they got close when we made the OST for the drama he was in. Now I get to ask a question in return.”

You watched as Roha pulled out his phone and began scrolling to find a picture. Your breathing hitched at the picture he showed you.

It was a picture of you and Noeul. When you were younger, maybe two years ago? Noeul had his arms around your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Your noses were touching and it looked like you were mid laugh.

No one could try to spin that picture as anything but couple like.

“How’d you…?”

Roha frowned, turning his phone off. “I got it from someone anonymous. I thought it was photoshopped but it’s real. I haven’t shown anyone.”

“Did you ask for it?”

“No way. I wouldn’t try to sabotage you or Song Noeul’s career. I’m just telling you because I think someone is trying to dim Song Noeul’s career and you’re unfortunately about to be hit in the cross fire.”

You frowned, trying to take in the information.

“They also sent stuff about me. Just pictures of me smoking. That’s about it. I’m not sure who it could be. Maybe an ex lover of Song Noeul.”

“Ex lover?”

“He could’ve left his old lover when he started to get famous. The lover got jealous and wants to bring him down. Seems the only dirt they can get on him is that he dated a man.”

“Why don’t they use pictures of him with them if they dated?”

“They don’t want to get found out. Especially if they could be a man themselves. Anyway, I’m just telling you to be careful. They could be following you to see if you interact with Song Noeul again.”

The rest of the dinner felt heavy as you thought about Roha’s warning. Fuck, forget all about the plan with making Ye-Jun angry. You could be outed by some jealous ex lover!

You got home feeling heavy and scared. Sure, Korea was getting progressive these days. But all you could think about was the korean host who came out as gay and got black listed for years!

Straight kpop idols get taken from groups or slammed to death for dating each other.

Sure your group wasn’t too big but you were gaining a sizable fan base. Fuck.

You laid down on your bed and stared up at the ceiling. Should you tell someone? You knew your company wouldn’t be angry—Manager Nayoung was openly a lesbian and even a few other staff members were gay. There was a gay flag in one of the recording rooms!

Dohyun wouldn’t be angry. Won-Shik would find a way to get a murder charge. Yuki would probably also get arrested for murder. Junho would comfort you. Young-Jae would laugh at you before comforting you in his own way.

The soft sputtering of the fan almost lulled into a sleepless slumber when your phone lit up. You reached over and grabbed your phone off the countertop.

It was Ye-Jun.

He just a sent a picture.

An old one.

His hair was a buzz cut. He had no smile on his lips as he stared straight at the camera. You wondered what could be worth sending this when you noticed yourself in the picture.

In the back, you were standing by the door of what you could only assume was a classroom. A wide smile on your face as you looked to be talking to someone that was off frame.

Was this him trying to take a picture of you in secret?

Kim Ye-Jun

↳ The first ever picture I took of you.

↳ freshman orientation

↳ your smile is your best feature

↳ 너무 예뻐서, 자기.

Cheesy.

You laughed, closing your eyes as you placed your phone back on the nightstand. Your throat felt tight as you placed your hands over your eyes. A heavy feeling began to swell in your chest as your lips began to twitch.

Fuck.

You were so emotional.

He was messing with you at this point.

With Young-Jae and Roha’s talk about taking control, you knew you had to if you didn’t have the strength to release Kim Ye-Jun from your heart.

You needed to punch Kim Ye-Jun in the face.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

↳ you thiink jostt becaze everyone knows your nume that you can just forgot me like that

↳ you werant anyone spezial before I met you song noeul answwwer me you son of a bitch

↳ couldnt get in tuchh with that kim yejun bastaardrd had to go though his frend since when did you hing out with puple like them do they have accentts when they talk they’re from jeju yea

↳ youre facking kim yejun huh or maybe youre stiiill with that shortiiie from that shitty bannds cho (name) I knew you left me for him

↳ whats gaing to hupoen is your fault song noeul you culdve just taken me back instud of dumping me like

↳ those fens of yours are guna be pessed when they releize thiy fell in love wiz a faggot

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Guys, guess who just started following us on Instagram!” Won-Shik bursted into the recording room, ignoring Dohyun’s call for him to calm down. He pulled out his phone and showed you and Young-Jae the Instagram account.

“Huh? Who’s that? I don’t pay attention to actors.” Young-Jae asked.

Your eyes narrowed as you looked at the username.

@Yoursunset

(송노을) 7.9m followers 289 Following

“Your sunset?” Junho muttered, leaning over to try and get a better look as well.

Won-Shik hummed. “Well yeah, it makes sense. His name means glow of sunset.”

“His name is Noeul?” Dohyun asked.

Your eyes widened as you took Won-Shik’s phone away from him, ignoring his yell. You swiped at the account and took a look at the pictures. It was him. It really was Song Noeul. He was following the band’s account!

It shocked you that he was so popular. A year ago he only had a mere 98k followers. His dramas must’ve been getting mainstream attention for him to blow up like that.

His pictures looked to be promoting a new kdrama he was a side character as. A light hearted romcom. After that it was just pictures of him on his day to day life. Until you reached two years ago, he earned a lead role in a crime kdrama.

One of the pictures had him with Black Rose. This must’ve been the OST they made back then.

He even had a few pictures alone with Ye-Jun. of course Ye-Jun’s smile looked forced and strained but he did look semi happy near Noeul.

You clicked on Noeul’s recent story to see he was answering questions from fans. And one question asked whats his new favorite album.

Lo and behold he answered with “Love’s Fool” plus a link to your band’s account. The next question was a fan jokingly asking if he’s cheating on Black Rose which he answered with a picture of him and Ye-Jun with an X emoji on Ye-Jin’s face.

The caption said: “Ending relationship with Black Rose, Love Countdown is now my husband”

“Uh,” Won-Shik coughed, raising an eyebrow at your behavior. “Anyway the reason why I was telling you guys this is because this guy is popular! Look at how much followers he has. He just promoted us on his page. We’ll get so many new fans from him!”

Young-Jae looked over at you. “(Name) knows him.”

The rest of the group looked at you in shock. “Huh?!” They yelled in unison.

Right. Your relationship with Noeul was discrete. Especially when he left for another agency to debut as an actor instead. Only Young-Jae had known and it wasn’t because you had told him.

Young-Jae had unfortunately walked in on you having phone sex with Noeul. It was something you tried forgetting.

“(Name)-Ah, you know him?! Are you guys still friends?!” Won-Shik grabbed your face as he squished your cheeks together, making you look up at him. “Are you close? Do you know his MBTI??”

“MBTI…?” Yuki asked, tilting his head.

“Calm down, Won-Shik! (Name)-Ah can’t speak with you squishing his face like that.” Dohyun pulled Won-Shik away as you rubbed your cheeks now that they were free.

“Uh,” you muttered. “Yeah, we’re friends. Well, we were closer back then but I lost contact with him. I think he changed his number and unfortunately I never got it.”

Junho patted you on the back. “Maybe you can try to reconnect? It’s good to have friends that are outside of us.”

“Yeah, use him to get more fans!” Young-Jae grinned.

“Don’t listen to Jae.” Dohyun cut in, glaring at Young-Jae. “Junho is right. You need more friends.”

“I have Roha Hyung.” You pouted.

Junho shook his head. “Yeah, that’s a problem. You need friends outside of your band mates and outside of Kim Ye-Jun’s best friend.”

“Kim Ye-Jun is friends with Noeul…”

“But you knew Song Noeul first! So technically you have a right to be close to him.” Yuki chimed in.

Won-Shik grinned. “Think of it this way. You get a new friend and some extra connections for our band!”

“Stop thinking about money, Won-Shik!”

“Hey, money makes the world go round! We gotta get a deal for an OST before our second year anniversary!!!”

You began to tune out Won-Shik’s and Dohyun’s bickering as you glanced down at Noeul’s account.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt. Though the whole thing with someone threatening to out Noeul bothered you. Despite worrying about yourself—you worried about Noeul even more.

Now that you knew he was gaining popularity, he had more to lose at being outed.

At the very least… You thought it was in your best interest to warn Noeul that someone was threatening to ruin his career.

Now you just had to find a way to get close to him again. Would he even want to speak to you?

The rest of the day was spent in the recording booth. Won-Shik and Dohyun bickering. Young-Jae not so subtly fondling Dohyun’s ass whenever he thought no one was looking. Yuki and Junho snuggled together on the couch as Yuki occasionally bit Junho’s cheek.

You stayed on the far right of the couch—pondering on ways to creep back into Noeul’s life.

Message him on Instagram? No, his company probably checks his DMs.

Do a post and tag him? Would that be weird?

Go to his agency and ask to meet him? No way.

Ask Ye-Jun for his number? You’d rather jump off a bridge.

Maybe you’d have to just post and tag him.

Your phone suddenly lights up with a text from Ye-Jun. Speak of the devil.

It was another picture. One of him again. It looked to be taken not even a few days ago. He was dressed in a black harness that was over a skin tight white t-shirt. A black choker. You couldn’t see his lower half. But you could see his eye makeup.

Intense was putting it lightly. The eyeshadow was a dark black. His face was lightened up with a bit of white blush. A bit gothic? He still wasn’t smiling, of course. Another picture was sent, this time with a message.

↳ Our first OST filming

↳ Just remembered it

↳ It’s been two years, I think my hair cut looks similar to how it is now

↳ should I dye my hair? What’s your favorite color?

The picture made you do a double take. It was of him and Noeul. Noeul was dressed in a regular outfit. A black sweater with a hat on. He must’ve been visiting to see the music video happen.

It was a stark contrast. Noeul had a wide smile. His eyes forming into crescent moons as he put up a peace sign. Ye-Jun still looked dead at the camera with not even a hint of a smile.

Seeing Noeul felt different. He matured since you last saw him. He still had those sharp monolid eyes. Shaggy black hair. Soft plump lips.

Ye-Jun and Noeul didn’t look too far off from each other now that they were close.

Huh, you really did have a type.

You almost began to text Ye-Jun, asking him about Noeul but decided against it.

You knew a good way to get his attention.

Your eyes flickered back onto the picture. It almost felt like Ye-Jun staring right at you. His eyes were intense. Almost cold.

Were his eyes always this cold?

❝ 차가운 네 눈이 나를 삼켜 ❞

The first time you ever met Song Noeul, he was quiet. Unnaturally quiet. So you stuck to him like glue.

Opposites attract. That’s what they say.

Even when he decided to become an actor instead—you still walked thirty minutes to meet him. It was pure friendship at first.

He was different personality wise from Ye-Jun but somehow had a familiar aura to him. Maybe a version of Ye-Jun you thought you had known.

Noeul was dating someone. Someone that you knew was treating him badly. You had once tried to relate it to your relationship with Ye-Jun until you saw the bruises on Noeul’s face one day.

That person was dangerous. Noeul never told you who it was—never even told your their gender.

It wasn’t until a year later, the day that you had finally been chosen in the final lineup for your company’s upcoming band that your relationship with Noeul was no longer platonic.

You had ran to him and tackled him into a hug outside of his agency. Your noses touched together as you excitedly told him the good news. It wasn’t even a moment later before he kissed you.

Then it just continued from there.

But all good things seem to always end for you. Noeul had gotten his first role as a side character in a kdrama and you got busy with your debut. You both just…drifted apart by pure accident.

A sigh left your lips as the memories began to flood your brain. Song Noeul was just too good to be true. You almost didn’t want to bother him. But you tried to tell yourself that he deserved to know about someone attempting to ruin his career.

You looked back, making sure the sunset was in view. You were out at the park—Junho and Young-Jae wanted to go for a walk so you tagged along. They were both doing some type of weird work out on the public bench as you tried to get a good angle for your picture.

Your lips pulled into a grin as you took multiple pictures. After going through them—you picked the three that you looked the best in and began to draft a post for Instagram.

The caption read: 안녕, 여러분!! 노을이 예쁘죠?

It was a bit one the nose but you were desperate. If you wanted to talk about the sunset, you would’ve used “일몰” instead of Noeul. Only a dumbass wouldn’t get your message.

@BRim_roha commented : ah, cute—I should steal you for myself

@BRhwang_hanbin responded : HYUNG STOP!!! Ye-Jun Hyung will kill you for real!

@BRseo_minji responded : didn’t you tell us earlier to stop spamming his comment section?

@BRpark_shion responded : you idiots make it seem like we have nothing better to do. WE ARE STILL DOING PROMOTIONS DUMBASS!!!!

@BRkim_yejun commented : why are you all here before me….? Anyway, so pretty, Jagi. Why did you use 노을?

You sighed. Of course those stupid fucks were already spamming your comment section. You scrolled past their conversation as Minji and Hanbin got into an argument.

Your heart felt like it was being clenched by a hand. Squeezed tightly as if you couldn’t breathe anymore. Maybe he wouldn’t get it. Maybe he didn’t even care about you like that and just liked your music?

Maybe he didn’t even want to talk to you ever again because he’s living a better life now and how could he possibly want a reminder about his before and and—

@Yoursunset commented : Yeah, I think I’m very pretty ㅋㅋㅋ

You definitely didn’t squeal, most definitely not. Young-Jae glanced over at you with an unimpressed look. Junho gave you smile before turning his attention back to his workout.

Perfect. Everything would be set in motion, one step at a time.

The next few weeks you would post something that Noeul would comment on. He made no attempt to try and go any further with that and you were set on keeping it there as well.

This would be enough. It could be enough for you.

It didn’t make much sense in your mind.

Ye-Jun was crazy but you liked him. Noeul was seemingly normal and you liked him.

Was it normal to like two men at the same time?

Did you even feel love for Noeul or was it just nostalgia?

You were just confused these days.

And you began to notice an odd uptick in Ye-Jun’s behavior. More so the fact he hasn’t been talking or texting you.

But everything is going to be fine.

Right?

Yeah… You knew deep down it wasn’t.

❝ 불안하게 만드는 거�� 왜? ❞

It was a fine and calming day. Love Countdown was doing the photoshoot for their upcoming single: Spring Day. The theme was fun and more upbeat than the previous comeback.

The photo shoots were always fun for you. Dressing in cool outfits. The funky sets. And even just taking pictures with your hyungs was a blast.

You had just finished up your solo photoshoot when your phone began to rang. It was Ye-Jun. Your body froze as you stared at your phone, slipping on your jacket. It had been a few weeks since he’d call.

It felt like your heart was hammering in your chest as you let it ring. You couldn’t answer it. You knew it wouldn’t be smart to answer it with staff around you. The call ended and a message was swiftly sent to you.

↳ meet me at the hotel. You know which one

He didn’t send anything else after that. You didn’t respond. You’d go either way. Fuck, why were you going? But before you knew it—you were standing at the hotel he took you that day after Manager Nayoung’s birthday party.

There was another text sent to you with the room number once you reached it. How’d he..?

You didn’t question it, going straight to the room. Maybe you can finally do what Young-Jae and Roha told you to do. Punch Kim Ye-Jun.

Your knuckles rasped against the door for only a second when it pulled open. A shocked grunt left your lips as Ye-Jun pulled you inside the room. He slammed the door shut behind himself as you stared at him shock.

Gosh, seeing him after almost five months was a bit surreal. He was clean faced and a bit sweaty, maybe he had ran over here? His hair was messy as he stood up straight. You stopped giving him a glance over and looked him in the eye.

Oh.

He was angry.

“Cho (Name)…”

Fuck. Fuck, he was probably going to talk about Junho.

“What’s your relationship to Song Noeul? You’ve practically been flirting with him for the last few weeks. What the fuck is that? He’s my friend, y’know?”

You couldn’t help the slight smirk on your lips. At least Junho was safe. “Your friend…? Ah, right. You think you know me, hm? Well, I know Song Noeul. Longer than you have.”

“Longer than me? How? I’ve known him for over three years now.”

“Mhm. Why should I tell you? Can I not have a relationship with Song Noeul? Is he yours? Roha Hyung said that you have an odd tendency to take ownership over people.”

“Ownership?” Ye-Jun laughed. “What else did Roha Hyung tell you? Tell you about our kindergarten days? High school days before I went off to the military?”

“No. Because if I want to learn someone about you—I’ll ask you. Because if you like someone—you’d want to learn everything about them.”

Ye-Jun’s eyes widen and he almost looked shocked before he shook his head. “You didn’t answer my question. What’s your relationship to Song Noeul?”

“Remember when you asked me about who I slept with? I told you about a trainee that you wouldn’t have known about… I was wrong—you clearly know Noeul-Ah.”

“He’s not a hyung to you?”

“He was born the year after mines.” You grinned, enjoying the look of shock on his face. “You’d know that… if you remembered my birthday.”

“You’re really cocky these days, (Name)-Ah. It’s cute. Real cute. It’s almost making me wonder why I’m still wanting you.”

You glared at him. “That’s all you can think about. You only want me. Do you… Do you even like me? What do you even like about me? How pathetic I am to you?”

Yuki’s words about Junho were flooding back to you. Why were you so after Ye-Jun? Why did you let him crawl into your heart? Why did you even let him come back?

“What do you want me to say, (Name)?”

“I…That you love me. That you don’t just find me pathetic.. That… That there’s other things you like about me.. y’know? My personality… things I do.”

“Love you?” Ye-Jun’s eyebrows farrowed as he stared at you in shock. He sighed, rubbing at his forehead. “What’s with this all of sudden? You didn’t care that I didn’t say it much back then. Why now?”

Your lips pressed into a straight line as you glared at him. “You don’t even say it all. Just.. why do you want me?”

Ye-Jun glanced over at you. “I don’t know. I don’t know, (Name). When you left me, I felt empty. I don’t know what these feelings are but I know that I can’t be without you.”

“Yeah? Well, I know how to speak about my feelings. And I know when to admit my mistakes.”

“Mistakes?”

“Mhm. You won’t ever apologize for what you did to me but I’ll apologize to you right now. I lied. I did fuck Yang Junho. No, he fucked me. He fucked me good and I liked every—”

A strangled gasp left your throat as Ye-Jun grabbed your arm and slammed you against the wall. His lips smashed against yours as you tried pushing him away. But he was stronger, tightening his hold on your arms as he moved to cage you against the wall.

Your hands gripped at his shirt when you realized you had no strength to push him off. His teeth bit at your lip as he pressed his body against yours.

He finally pulled away from the kiss, glaring down at you. “Yang Junho, huh?”

A smirk pulled on your lips as you stared up at him. Your lip burned. Fuck, did he cut it open?

“Yeah. Yang Junho. Does that piss you off? Make you angry?”

“Keep talking, Cho (Name). It pisses me off even more. But that’s what you want. To piss me off.”

“Maybe. Does the thought of Yang Junho fucking me into the bed make you angry? Does it make you hate me for abandoning you for someone better?”

Ye-Jun blinked as he took in your words. A slow smirk pulled on his lips as he let out a laugh.

“Yeah, it makes me hate you.”

His hands trailed down to your legs and gripped your thighs. He hoisted you up with ease as he carried you over to the bed. You grunted when you were unceremoniously dropped without a warning. Hands gripped your jeans as Ye-Jun pulled off it off.

You reached up and slipped off your shirt, readying to take off your boxers when you heard the sound of fabric tearing.

“Kim Ye-Jun! That’s the second pair of boxers you’ve tore!”

Ye-Jun didn’t answer you, his gaze hard as he slipped off his own shirt. You gulped. Maybe you really did make him angry this time. Your gaze followed Ye-Jun as he gripped your waist. He easily turned you over into your stomach, ignoring your yelps.

The sound of skin slapping caused you to shriek, back arching. He really just spanked you. His hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, slowly spreading you open. Your hands gripped into the bedsheets as you waited in anticipation of what he was going to do.

Teeth sunk into your ass, earning a shuddered gasp from you. Ye-Jun bit and marked at your ass. He left no space of your ass unmarked. Your cock twitched as you slowly grind against the bed, giving yourself some form of relief.

You gasped, hips jittering as you felt a tongue lick around your hole. Ye-Jun’s nails dug into your skin as he began to mouth at your hole. The feeling of his tongue threatening to slip inside sent you into a frenzy.

It had to have been because you hadn’t had sex in over five months. Didn’t help you would sometimes over hear Young-Jae and Dohyun having the time of their lives late at night.

“K..Kim Ye-Jun…” You whimpered, gasping as you felt spit coat your rim. “No lube..?!”

“You don’t deserve lube.” Was all Ye-Jun said before his middle and ring finger teased your outer rim. Your body shivered. Fuck, fuck.

The fingers pressed against your hole before he slammed it inside, earning a cry from you. You subconsciously rose your ass up as Ye-Jun began to finger fuck you. Without lube there was a slight burn. But it only made you more horny.

Ye-Jin’s fingers curled, teasing your wet inner wall as you gasped. A graze against your prostate earned a strangled whimper from you as you bit your tongue. This wasn’t a love hotel—you didn’t want to be screaming when it was only 7 pm in the evening.

His fingers repeatedly pressed against your prostate. Rubbing smooth circles around it as you cried and whimpered. Your cock felt heavy. You felt as if you could orgasm now. But then he suddenly stopped.

“Ngh…?” You whimpered, eyes opening as you tried to look back at Ye-Jun.

“What? Don’t think you can bat your eyelashes and I’ll do what you say.” Ye-Jun laughed, rudely pushing your head back onto the bed. “Don’t look back at me again unless you don’t want to cum at all tonight.”

It was silent for a second. Your body began to twitch with anxiety as you could feel your cock losing its erection. What was he trying to do?

A complaint was on the tip of your tongue when a brutal four minutes had passed but you didn’t get to say anything. His two fingers thrusted back inside of your puckered hole as you gasped in shock. They immediately zeroed in on your prostate—not holding back a continuous attack.

He rubbed the edge of your prostate before pressing down fully on it. You whined, your hips jerking upwards as he didn’t make any movement. Your cock was alive once again, the tip sticky and wet with pre-cum.

You were so close. Almost there.

But he didn’t move again. He kept his middle and ring finger resting right on your prostate. Your toes curled as you bucked your hips backwards to try and get him to move. That earned a harsh smack right on your ass.

“I didn’t say you could move.”

You whimpered, trying to will your body to stay still. It felt like hours when it was only two minutes before he began to tease your prostate. A thankful groan left your throat as you tried to savor the feeling.

Your cock rubbed against the bedsheets as it coated them with your pre-cum. A babble of nonsense left your lips as you gripped at the sheets—reaching your orgasm.

Then it stopped just as you reached your peak.

A whiny almost pathetic whimper left your throat as you felt tears water in your eyes. You couldn’t take this anymore. Your body began to shake slightly as you tried to calm down even as the tears began to fall.

“Hurts?” Ye-Jun suddenly whispered against your ear. You flinched, feeling his body heat against you. Only a whimper left you.

“Good.” He simply said, pulling away.

Your eyes widen as you felt his hand reach underneath your stomach, grasping your aching cock. You almost cried tears of joy as he began to jerk you off, his fingers occasionally rubbing your prostate in tandem. Your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head as you couldn’t help back your high pitched moans.

“Almost there, Jagiya. I’m sure Yang Junho never made you feel like this…” he suddenly tightened his grip on the tip of your cock, stopping your orgasm. “Just like I’m sure he isn’t as cruel as me.”

“Noooo…” You cried out, reaching up to crawl away from Ye-Jun. He only laughed and pulled his hand away, grabbing your hips and pulling you back down to the edge of the bed.

“Where are you going? I thought you wanted to cum.”

“I…ngh…..! ‘Ate ‘u…!” You managed to mutter, your eyes feeling heavy.

“Mhm. I hate you too, Jagiya.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss on your shoulder. “If only you weren’t promoting soon. You deserve my mark all over your body. Maybe then you’ll realize you’re mine.”

He pulled away from your body, leaving you to cry at the loss. Ye-Jun hummed as he grabbed your waist and flipped you into your back, forcing your head to lay off the edge of the bed. You were face to face with growing bulge. His hand pulled down his zipper, tugging down his boxers, as his cock slipped free.

It was inches from your face, the tip touching your nose. Ye-Jun reached over and wiped at your face. Your face was stained with tears. A smile pulled on his lips as he uncharacteristically gently stroked your cheek before grabbing his cock and pressing it against your lips.

You obeyed with ease, your lips parting as he slowly thrusted his cock into your mouth. He was slow—seemingly nice enough to not just trigger your gag reflex immediately. His hand traced your cheek before trailing down to your throat, rubbing the slight bulge there.

Your cock twitched as your legs clamped together. You wanted to cum so bad but didn’t make any attempt to grab your own cock despite it leaking dejectedly on your stomach.

“You’re pretty with your mouth shut, Jagiya. If you didn’t have a pretty voice when singing, I would make sure you could never talk again.”

A pathetic whimper left your throat as you tried to ignore the thought.

His hand gently massaged your throat before he pulled his hips back. You braced yourself, closing your eyes at the feeling of him against your tongue. His tip teased the tip of your tongue before he slammed his hips forward.

The sound of his grunts and your choked gasps filled the room as he fucked your mouth. He wasn’t gentle or slow in the slightest, making sure he could go as deep as possibly without triggering your gag reflex. Your toes curled as your body moved from his heavy thrusts.

Your cock was leaking pre-cum all over your tummy as you itched over to quickly jerk yourself off. You needed an orgasm like twenty minutes ago.

“That’s it. Jerk yourself off.” He said, tightening his grip on your throat. You didn’t need to be told twice as you quickly grabbed your cock and began jerking off to the rhythm of his thrusts. Your hips jerked up as your body was taking over by the pleasure.

Ye-Jun smirked as he quickened his pace, widening his stance as he slammed his cock deep inside your throat. You could feel yourself choking just a bit—almost forgetting to breathe.

“Nose. Use your nose.” Ye-Jun suddenly grunted out, noticing your hands frantically gripping at the bed. You felt like an idiot for forgetting to do that but you tried to give yourself a pass at being too taken with the pleasure.

You moved your hand back to your cock and quickly jerked yourself off, ready to finally meet your first orgasm. Ye-Jun seemed close as well judging by his moans. It felt like your body was spasming as your cock finally squirted cum onto your stomach, shooting up to your chest.

Ye-Jun pulled his cock out as you let out a strangled and hoarse scream. Your hips jerked upwards as you continued jerking yourself off during your orgasm. Wet tears streamed down your face as you took a deep breath, trying to calm down as your body shook from the intense sensation.

Your neck hurt so you tried to move to rest properly on the bed but didn’t get to move far when Ye-Jun gripped your throat. A shocked gasp left your throat as you looked up at him to see him smirking at you.

“Hey, don’t be so selfish.” He used his free hand to jerk himself as he pointed his cock right at your face. You could only squirm in his grip, hands reaching up to try and pull his hand off your throat. But it was useless, he was larger than you.

White cum squirted from Ye-Jun’s cock, landing right on your face. You quickly shut your eyes as it landed on your lips, cheeks, and nose. Luckily nowhere near your eyes. Ye-Jun rubbed at your throat before pulling away.

His touch was soft. You almost called back for him. But you couldn’t speak. This feeling felt different. Like you could just sleep peacefully and wake up refreshed the next day.

Was this… the sub space Dohyun mentioned? Did Ye-Jun really make you feel this safe despite everything?

The sound of a zipper pulling up caught your hears as you finally opened your eyes. He was far away. Too far. You had to hold back the childish whimper that threatened to leave you.

“…’her you ‘ing..?” You managed to hoarsely mutter.

Ye-Jun tilted his hand at you as he grinned. “You look good with cum on your face, (Name). It’s my favorite sight.” He pulled out his phone and took a picture. You didn’t even have the mental strength to yell at him for that.

He walked away and you strained to watch him as he slipped on his sneakers. He was leaving? Leaving you like this? You grunted, using your strength to sit up properly on the bed as you stared at him in shock.

“You’re not..”

“Leaving? Yeah, I’m leaving.” Ye-Jun said, grabbing his jacket and baseball cap off the hook.

He looked back over at you, his face unreadable.“I hate you, remember? Just like you hate me. Isn’t that our relationship? We’re fuck buddies now.”

With that, he left. You stared at the door in shock as you tried to calm down. What the fuck? Fuck buddies? Your heart felt odd. You felt as if you were having trouble breathing.

What was wrong with you?

You pushed yourself off the bed, kneeling down to grab your jeans as you pulled out your phone. Tears began to fall onto the screen as you shakily pressed the first contact you came across in your messages.

“Wonnie Hyung…?” You hiccuped. “I need you.”

❝ 반대로 가고 있는 것 같아요 ❞

“I’m going to murder him.”

You looked over at Junho as he paced around Won-Shik’s bedroom. Won-Shik was beside you on the bed with an uncharacteristically blank stare. When you had called him he had practically ran to where you were.

The look on his face when you opened the door was something you didn’t want to see again.

“So he was angry at you and then did all that?” Won-Shik suddenly spoke, the first time in the hour he brought you home. You mutely nodded, burrowing yourself into the bedsheets. It was embarrassing to tell your band mate this but you didn’t exactly have anyone else.

No way in hell were you going to Roha. Or worse, your parents. You haven’t exactly spoken to them in five years.

Junho groaned, rubbing at his head. “Why is he like this? Does he even like you? He says he was lonely when you left but now that he has you again he’s acting like a fucking fool?”

“I’m a fool for going back to him.” You whispered, sighing to yourself. Junho frowned as he finally sat down on the bed, rubbing your head.

“Don’t beat yourself, (Name)-Ah. You just.. You must really like him. I’m not sure why, but he must’ve been a good person before this all happened.”

“He was. But I’m starting to think I love him because he’s the first boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

“Could be that. But even when you were away from him—did you still think about him?”

“Of course. I always thought about him. I’m so confused with myself.”

Junho gave you a comforting smile as he moved to lay down with you on the bed. You couldn’t help but laugh as he wrapped the blanket around you like a cocoon and hug you to his chest.

Won-Shik hummed, catching your attention. He looked over at you and gave you a tight smile. “I’ve thought about what to do and unfortunately they all come up with me getting a murder charge.”

“I can still be your alibi.” Junho said seriously.

“Tempting.”

“Please don’t.” You whined, pouting. “I think I’ll get more depressed if he’s gone for good and you’ll be locked up in jail.”

“You’re too nice, (Name)-Ah.” Won-Shik sighed, shaking his head. He pulled out his phone and got up. “I need to tell Dohyun Hyung. I’ll be back.” He left the room, leaving you and Junho alone.

Junho nuzzled your hair before sighing softly. “Why’d you tell him that we slept together, (Name)-Ah? That was dangerous.”

“He would never hurt me physically.”

“But he has no problem hurting you mentally.”

You only closed your eyes, burying your face into the blanket cocoon. You were too mentally tired to think about this right now. Right now, you wanted to the warmth of Junho and your blanket cocoon.

It seemed you fell asleep because you woke up to Young-Jae on the bed with you. He was wrapped around you like an octopus, leg and arm over your body. Soft snores left his throat as you could see drool on his chin. You almost laughed at the sight.

Another body pressed against you as you looked to your left to see Dohyun right beside you, fast asleep. He looked like an angel compared to Young-Jae’s chaotic form. Dohyun’s arms were cross against his chest as his hair somehow stayed perfectly neat. How could one sleep like that?

A grunt left Young-Jae as he mumbled something before he opened his eye. His eye narrowed in on you as if he was trying to see if you were awake.

“….?egah?”

“What?” You laughed, watching as he sat up, pulling away from you. Young-Jae yawned, stretching his arms out before turning to look down at you.

“How’d you sleep?” He asked.

“Good. This cocoon is comforting.”

Young-Jae nodded as he rubbed his bed head. He glanced around before humming. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About Kim Ye-Jun?”

“No. The sub space.”

“Sub space? Did I really get into it?”

“I’m guessing. With how Won-Shik described your behavior when he came to get you. Have you ever experienced it before?”

“No… I don’t think Kim Ye-Jun knows anything about that type of stuff. Our sex back then was pretty vanilla. It’s only the two times we’ve fucked that he’s been more mean and dominant during sex.”

“So you guys didn’t discuss any boundaries or anything like that?”

“No. Why would we?”

Young-Jae sighed. “Of course. Well he’s still a dick either way even if you were both naive to what you were doing. Did he really say he hated you?”

You hummed, looking down.

“He’s insane. He acts so lovey dovey on Instagram but he seems unhinged in person.”

“It’s like…” You frown, pursing your lips together. “He has trouble speaking his feelings when we’re face to face. But on text, he acts like how he used to act before we broke up.”

“Do you think… he does it on purpose? Or maybe he just doesn’t realize?”

“I don’t know. I want him to realize how he’s affecting me. First I think he’s acting loving towards me and then he does shit like this.”

“I told you,” Young-Jae smirked. “You’re going to have to punch him. You gotta let him know he isn’t the boss of this relationship if you really won’t leave him. Stop letting him lead the conversations.”

You thought back to what Roha said. How he had to punch some sense into Ye-Jun to tell him how he was being suffocating. Maybe… Maybe you did need to stop acting nice.

Kim Ye-Jun would only listen with violence. Because it seemed he never grew up during his high school years.

And if that didn’t work…

You’d have to gain the strength to completely cut Kim Ye-Jun out of your life forever.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

↳ SONG NOEUL

↳ ywure intarcating wiz hem agaen i tuld ywu to cemo buck to me

↳ thus wel be ywoure fult fagot

↳ cho (name) bund wel be reined becaze of ywo

↳ kell ywor silf for twryinf to abendon me

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

It had been over a week since the whole incident. Ye-Jun had made no attempt to contact you. You kept drafting so many messages on what to send him. Wondering if it’d be better to meet him in person.

You felt like you’d pop a blood vessel if you continued any longer.

So, Won-Shik and Young-Jae took you out to dinner. It was a restaurant you’ve never tried so you were excited the entire time. Won-Shik and Young-Jae knew how to get your mind off things with ease.

You felt a pep in your step as you walked behind Young-Jae with Won-Shik beside you. They wanted to take a scenic walk through the park before going home. Won-Shik was showing you something on your phone when Young-Jae suddenly stopped.

“Huh? Something wrong?” You asked, walking up to see what made him pause.

It was Roha, Ye-Jun and another band member of theirs. You couldn’t tell who it was until they walked over. Ah, it was Shion. Shion’s eyes narrowed on you as if it was the first time he was ever seeing you. Roha grinned and waved.

Ye-Jun, for the first time in forever, avoided eye contact with you.

You almost thought that it couldn’t have been Ye-Jun at all.

“Evening. I’m Park Shion. I don’t think we properly met.” Shion said, holding his hand out. Young-Jae glared at his hand while Won-Shik stepped over and returned his handshake. With Won-Shik being the oldest, he had a duty to protect his maknaes.

“Shin Won-Shik. Introduce yourself.” He told you and Young-Jae.

“… Lee Young-Jae.”

“Cho (Name).”

“Im Roha.”

It was silent before Shion grabbed Ye-Jun by the back of his neck, essentially scuffing him like a cat. Ye-Jun grunted before sending a deadly glare at Shion.

“…Kim Ye-Jun.”

“I know.” Won-Shik answered, eyeing Ye-Jun up and down. Ye-Jun was 6 foot but was nothing compared to Won-Shik’s 6’3. You had some weirdly tall band mates. It was practically a joke from your company that half of the band should’ve been volleyball players.

An awkward silence filled the space as the six of you stared at each other. Only Roha seemed amused by everything, a light smirk on his lips as he looked over at you. He chuckled and motioned at Ye-Jun, making a bawling motion with his hands.

Bawling? Kim Ye-Jun bawling? It’d be a frigid day in hell if that was true.

But Roha wouldn’t have any reason to lie to you.

Roha stopped for a moment before he began to mouth something to you.

Geu… reul… ju…meok..eu..ro?

그를 주먹으로?

Geureul jumeokeuro?

It took a moment before it could register in your mind. Punch him. Roha was telling you to punch him. A grin spread on your lips as you took in Roha’s advice.

Won-Shik tilted his head as he stared straight at Ye-Jun. “Why are you bothering my maknae? Are you so lonely that you go after someone you willfully mistreated? Has your personality pushed away everyone that you have to prey on someone who has an unconditional love for you that it’s the cause of their own downfall?”

You watched as he stepped forward, leaning his head down so he could look Ye-Jun straight in the eye. Ye-Jun’s lips straightened into a thin line as he stared right back him, eyes narrowing as if he was daring Won-Shik to continue.

That didn’t seem to be the right answer as Won-Shik grabbed Ye-Jun’s jacket and pulled him close. Roha backed away, an amused smirk on his lips while Shion sighed. He didn’t make any effort to help Ye-Jun though—he was shorter than the both of them at 5’9. No way in hell would he risk himself for Ye-Jun’s own problem.

“You talk all that shit to (Name) and Junho but you can’t do it to me? Do I scare you, Kim Ye-Jun?” Won-Shik was certainly scaring you. Being tall with a muscular body was just intimidating in general. Pair it with his features—he just looked naturally scary.

It was a thing in the fandom that many of the fans found it hot how scary he could be while cuddly the next.

And right now, you were glad none of the fans ever saw how scary Won-Shik could truly be.

“Stop playing with (Name). Because if you truly wanted him like you say, you wouldn’t leave him a sobbing mess for us to clean up after you ruined him for your own pleasure.” Won-Shik released his grip on Ye-Jun, shaking his head as he walked away from him.

Young-Jae frowned. “I was hoping you’d punch him.”

Roha laughed. “Yeah me too!”

“Roha!” Shion glared at Roha who only laughed, shrugging his shoulders. Ye-Jun rubbed at the collar of his jacket as he straightened it back. He still wouldn’t look at you. Somehow that made you angrier than anything he’s done before.

The whole speech you had wanted to give him was long out of your mind at this point. You would probably speak to him another time.

Your feet moved before you could even think. The others watched you, Won-Shik instinctively reaching out to stop you. Ye-Jun finally looked over at you when he noticed you from his peripheral vision. He opened his mouth to speak but you stopped him.

“(Name)—”

A shocked yell left Shion as everyone watched in shock as you slam your fist square inbetween Ye-Jun’s eyes. Ye-Jun’s balance stumbled as he grunted at the force, about to fall to the ground until Roha grabbed his arms. Roha began laughing, holding Ye-Jun from off the floor.

“I didn’t think you’d actually punch him!” Young-Jae yelled, unsure if he should feel proud or shocked.

You whined, shaking your right hand as you brought it up to your face to see your knuckles were bleeding. Fuck, did punching people always hurt like this?

“You’re so funny, Cho (Name)! I meant it metaphorically but he deserved to be punched!” Roha laughed.

“Wait, you never punched..? But you said you socked him in the face?” You cried, wondered how the fuck you were wrong in your interpretation of events.

“Poor wording. I did shove him against a table and he ended up hurting his face from the fall. But this is the best day of my life!”

Shion looked mostly shocked. He glanced down at Ye-Jun. “Shit, he’s bleeding. How am I going to explain this to Riwoo Hyung?!”

Roha shrugged. “Tell him Ye-Jun fucked around and found out. Let’s go, I’m tired of holding him up.”

Won-Shik was just staring at you, mouth agape before a wide grin spread on his lips. He grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you up, spinning around despite your yelps for him to put you down.

“Cho (Name)!! Who knew you had it in you? You’re not just a cute maknae, you’re a strong maknae! You might’ve broke his nose!”

Young-Jae walked over to you two and smirked. “Let’s hope he doesn’t hate you enough to press charges.”

You and Won-Shik stopped celebrating as realization began to settle in. Ah fuck. You looked over to see Roha and Shion dragging Ye-Jun away. Roha looked back and waved goodbye, giving you a thumbs up.

It was so odd that Ye-Jun’s childhood friend would enjoy seeing his friend get beat. Shion didn’t even seem too upset. You could see them both struggle a bit, Roha and Shion were slimmer compared to Ye-Jun’s stocker build as they dragged him away.

Won-Shik finally placed you on the ground as he lovingly patted your head. “Let’s not tell Dohyun Hyung. He’d have a heart attack.”

Young-Jae hummed. “Yeah, Jagi might pass out and I won’t get to fuck him tonight.”

You and Won-Shik stared at Young-Jae with an unimpressed expression. “Gross.” You said in unison.

“What?”

The rest of the walk back to the apartment complex was fun. Won-Shik kept complimenting you about the punch while saying you should’ve went for a different form. It was the reason why you ended up hurting your hand just as bad.

Your right hand was in total pain. Your knuckles bloody. It hurt to flex your hand so you were just keeping it as still as possible until Yuki could dress your wound once you got home. Though it would be a pain to explain what happened to Yuki.

Hopefully he’d be proud of you.

Just as you reached the door to the complex, the sight of someone caused you to froze.

Standing near the building dressed in a white t-shirt and a puffy black jacket with black sweatpants. You almost thought you were going crazy until the person took off their cap and pulled down their mask.

Song Noeul.

He looked prettier in person. His lips pulled into a wide smile. “(Name) Hyung?” His voice like a melody. You always wondered why he quit singing when his voice was so soft and sweet.

“SONG NOEUL?! I love your dramas!!!” Won-Shik yelled, practically vibrating in excitement. Noeul looked shocked at first before smiling at Won-Shik. He bowed his head.

“Thank you, Shin Won-Shik.”

“YOU KNOW MY NAME?!? HAHAH!!! Call me Won-Shik Hyung, please!!!!”

“Calm the fuck down, Hyung.” Young-Jae muttered. “He’s here for (Name), not for you to fanboy all over him.”

Won-Shik quickly schooled his expression, nodding. “Yes, of course. Right. Haha. We’ll leave you two alone.” He didn’t make an effort to move so Young-Jae grabbed his arm and began to pull him away.

“Wait, wait!!! CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH NEXT TIME YOU VISIT!!! PLEASE VISIT AGAIN!!! (Name)!!! This your chance!!!” Won-Shik screamed even as Young-Jae pulled him inside the complex.

You blushed in embarrassment, biting your lip as Noeul only laughed. He turned his attention over to you.

“Your Instagram posts are cute.” Noeul said. “I didn’t know if I was imagining it the first time but I’m glad I wasn’t. I missed talking to you.”

“Why.. Why did you lose contact with me?” You whispered.

Noeul frowned. “I’m sorry, Hyung. I didn’t want to. But I’ve been… I’ve been stalked for a while and my manager told me to change my number. But she didn’t allow me to get most of my contacts back that weren’t her and my parents. She said I couldn’t trust anyone since it was the beginning of my career. It’s always fragile in the beginning.”

“Are you still being stalked?”

“Not that I know of. I’m still advised to be careful.” He pulled out his phone and smiled. “But I wanted to get your number anyway. I wanted my hyung back.”

You stared at his phone before reaching over to grab it, putting in your number. A gummy smile pulled on his lips as he giggled, stepping closer to you.

“I’m taller than you now. You didn’t grow at all.”

You pouted. “Rude. Is that any way to talk to your hyung?”

“Mhm, maybe?”

Noeul and you broke into a fit of giggles. It was nice to see him again. Alive and well. You subconsciously flexed your right hand and groaned. Noeul frowned, leaning in closer as he caught sight of your hand.

“Hyung…! What happened? Are you okay?” He gently grasped your hand, bringing it close as he took in the damage. His finger almost threatened to accidentally rub against the wound but he stopped himself just in time.

“Ah.. I punched someone.”

“Punch..? Who?!”

“Hah, Kim Ye-Jun.”

“Kim… Kim Ye-Jun?! Black Rose’s Kim Ye-Jun?! What did he do to deserve that?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you another time.”

Noeul frowned but nodded his hand. “Okay. It’s getting late, I should go back before my manager notices I’m gone.”

“You didn’t tell her that you left? Song Noeul!”

“It’s okay. I’m only a twenty minute walk away from here.”

You glared at him, almost wanting to chastise him but decided against it. It almost felt like you never stopped talking to him. Noeul blinked, staring at you for a second before his eyes flickered down to your lips.

“You hurt your lip too..?”

His finger gently touched the scab on your bottom lip. It was from Ye-Jun. He really had bite your lip open. You watched Noeul as he frowned slightly. His gaze softened.

“You’re still so accident prone, Hyung.”

You stopped yourself from saying it was from the same man. Instead, you leaned closer into Noeul’s space. His body stiffen for a second and you almost stepped away until he took a stepped forward.

“I should get going.” He whispered.

“Mhm. Yeah, I need to get my wound dressed.”

It felt like time stopped as you pressed your body against his. Your eyes fluttered close as you leaned on your toes. You didn’t feel anything for a moment and almost believed you were reading too far into things when soft lips pressed against yours.

The kiss was slow. Almost like you both were scared that you were dreaming. Like a peck you’d give your first ever boyfriend. You didn’t want to deepen it. The pure feeling you got from Noeul was everything you wanted. No, needed.

You pulled away from the kiss and slowly opened your eyes. Noeul smiled as he rubbed at your cheek. You hadn’t even noticed that you were crying. After months of Kim Ye-Jun, a love you wished could be like it was before… Song Noeul felt safe.

But you didn’t want to use him. You couldn’t use him for your own selfish benefit. So you reluctantly pulled away. Noeul didn’t stop you, allowing you to slip from his hold.

“Sorry… I just…”

“It’s okay, Hyung.” Noeul smiled. “Y’know, it reminded me of our first ever kiss. I kissed you that day and you pulled away, apologizing right after.”

“Oh, yeah…”

“So I know that we’ll be okay. I’m don’t know what I feel for you, Hyung. I’m not sure if it’s nostalgia but I want you. I’ve liked you since that winter we met. I think I still like you. I haven’t been able to connect with anyone after you.”

“I… I feel the same. But I need to explain to you something before we can continue, okay? Just not tonight. I’m too tired.” You confessed, biting your lip.

Noeul hummed, seemingly understanding. “Okay. I’ll let you go up, Hyung. Talk to you soon.” He slipped on his cap and pulled up his mask, waving goodbye as he walked away. You watched him walk for a moment before going inside when you couldn’t see him anymore.

You were in the elevator when you got a text. You pulled out your phone and checked the message.

It was from Noeul.

It was just a picture—an older one. He looked shy in the picture, mostly looking at you who was holding the phone to do a selfie. Your grin was wide as you held up a peace sign. Noeul was following you as he held a makeshift peace sign that didn’t fully extend. It almost looked like he was doing air quotes.

A smile spread across your lips.

It felt nice to finally have someone calming in your life resurface.

Ice to cool you down from the fire that was Kim Ye-Jun.

But of course, you shouldn’t have gotten so comfortable.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

↴

Uhm, dude. I don’t know if you know this, but I’m not Song Noeul? You got the wrong number

↴

Also, you’re fucking insane and can’t spell for shit

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

→ no way ㅋㅋㅋㅋ he’s gay??

→ shameless to be making out in public

→ wtf? I’ve been simping over a gay man??

→ gross ㅋㅋㅋ

→ ugh, waste of a man!!

→ I’m not sure why you girls are whining, not like you would’ve had a chance with him anyway ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

→ isn’t he in a recent drama with a kid???

→ poor kid ㅠㅠ we gotta get him out before he gets the kid

→ there’s literal rapists walking free in the film industry, but sure, homotron 3000 is the problem

→ uhm, why is no one weirded out that some of these pictures are taken in the privacy of Song Noeul’s home????!

→ is it just me or does it look like he has bruises on his body for a few of these pics?? Dispatch wtf?

→ he literally looks underaged in some of these pictures?? Why am I seeing a minors nudes?

→ it doesn’t matter that it’s pixilated, why are you showing this?! Guys we gotta report the post

→ Moon Taeil literally exists and yall seem more angry at a gay man??

→ I don’t care that he likes sucking dick, at least he can act

→ yall are so fucking funny. If Song Noeul dies because of this don’t pretend you care about celebrities mental health for a week before forgetting all about him

→ fucking gross, he probably makes Black Rose uncomfortable ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

→ he’s dating Love Countdown’s Cho (Name)???

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

@Dohyungotafatty (↑639 ↓248)

↳ damn, I was wrong. Cho (Name) isn’t dating Kim Ye-Jun ㅎㅎ

@junhoswhore (↑1264 ↓387)

↳ uh, isn’t this revenge porn?

@yukiiwukki (↑2763 ↓19)

↳ the person who sold the info to dispatch seem insane ㅋㅋㅋ why do we have to know about an actor’s love life?

@_loveandfear (↑635 ↓127)

↳ he’s literally a minor in some of the pictures, dispatch fucking delete these

@jaesflatass (↑3872 ↓498)

↳ I forgot homophobia existed ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@lovewonshiik (↑835 ↓376)

↳ the cute guys are always gay… I hope Won-Shik is straight ㅠㅠ

@Dohyungotafatty (↑1972 ↓287)

↳ it’s not like you had a chance ㅋㅋ

@freakfundashi (↑532 ↓9)

↳ It doesn’t feel right to make a sex joke right now ㅠㅠ I hope Song Noeul is okay

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Roha Hyung

↳ don’t check online. Don’t check your comments, please don’t. Take care of yourself.

Wonnie Hyung

↳ stay home, (Name). I’m coming with Manager Nayoung

Dohyunie Hyung

↳ I’m sorry this is happening to you, baby. Don’t leave your room. Jae and I are coming over, we’re just stuck in traffic

Jae Hyung

↳ it was him right?! I’m going to fucking kill him

↳ this better not have been Kim Ye-Jun I swear to god

Jun Jun Hyung

↳ (Name)… open the door please. I know you hear me. Please, I need to make sure you’re okay

Ki Ki Hyung

↳ don’t test me, (Name). I will unscrew the bolts of your door if you don’t open it now

Manager Choi Nayoung

↳ don’t you dare think we’re angry at you, Cho (Name). I’m sorry you were outed like this. I’m coming now to check on you. We’ll figure out how to deal with this and find out who sold the information to dispatch.

Kim “Son of a bitch” Ye-Jun

↳ Cho (Name). Stop looking at the comments. I know you are. It might hurt now but know those people aren’t even your fans.

↳ not even that, why do you care about the feelings of someone you’d never meet? Of someone who would be a coward to say it to you in person?

↳ it’s not my place but Noeul isn’t answering his phone… please check on him. I’m worried

My sunset

↳ Hyung

↳ it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have came to see you. I ruined you. Please don’t hate me. Please please. I’ll fix it. I’ll handle everything.

↳ I just need to confess. There’s no point in denying it. I’m just sorry you will have to learn about this in a public setting

↳ I’ll just tell you now. It was my ex boyfriend. But please… please don’t look at any more of the pictures. I don’t.. I don’t want you to see me like that.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Song Noeul’s shocking past; revealed by supposed ex lover!

Plus evidence of Love Countdown’s Cho (Name) and Song Noeul’s budding romance since 20XX!

Your eyes grazed over the post multiple times.

You just couldn’t be happy for a second could you? Now you dragged Noeul down with you when he was dealing with something arguably worse.

You could hear Junho and Yuki calling you from outside your door. You almost got up to open the door before Yuki kept his promise when your phone began ringing.

It was your mother.

Hehe, suddenly there’s a whole story line? This wasn’t supposed to be 16k words. If you noticed, Ye-Jun isn’t the only love interest anymore, get ready to learn more about Song Noeul in chapter 3 :) I’m finally giving threesomes a chance. Get used to porn with plot from me lol

Anyway thank @teyvat-writer for the idea for reader to punch Ye-Jun.

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

Translations:

❝ 날 그대로 받아들여, 너의 두려운 ❞ — accept me as I am, your fear

너무 예뻐서, 자기. — it’s pretty, Jagi

❝ 차가운 네 눈이 나를 삼켜 ❞ — your cold eyes swallow me

❝ 불안하게 만드는 거야 왜? ❞ — why are you making me anxious?

❝ 반대로 가고 있는 것 같아요 ❞ — it seems like I’m moving backwards

Songs used: Monster by EXO, beyOnd by OnlyOneOf’s Nine, and Not Mine by Day6

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

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