IDOL (Yandere Male x Male Reader)

ACT 7: Debut

TW: Mature Content

Status: Unedited

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(M/n) stirred awake, his senses sluggish as the first rays of sunlight seeped through the automatic curtains; bathing the room in a soft glow. The brightness stung his half-lidded eyes, forcing him to bury his face into the pillow- only to notice that it felt oddly warm and firm beneath his cheek. The pillow was vastly different from the ones given to him- soft and fluffy. His mind was still foggy from sleep, struggling to piece together his surroundings.

Attempting to sit up causes a sharp, radiating pain shot through his body, particularly from his lower back, making him freeze in place. A wave of discomfort washed over him, accompanied by confusion. Every movement sent a dull ache through his limbs, his muscles protesting against the slightest shift. Trying to move again- a dull pain shots down his bottom. The cold air from the air conditioner grazed his bare skin, causing him to shiver involuntarily, making the soreness more pronounced.

As he tried again to lift himself, a firm hand slid across his waist, pulling him back down into the bed. The sudden weight and touch were both possessive and familiar. Startled, his eyes flickered around the room, taking in his surroundings. His gaze landed on a sleek digital clock perched on the edge of an office desk—an office desk?

His brow furrowed as the glowing numbers on the clock read 9:00 AM. Office desk? His mind scrambled to connect the pieces, but the throbbing in his body muddled his thoughts. Where was he?

Everything about the space screamed elegance and formality—the polished wood of the office table, the leather armchair positioned neatly by the desk, and the faint scent of expensive cologne lingering in the air. This was no ordinary bedroom.

That's when he noticed it—pale arms draped possessively over him, his body pressed flush against his own. The CEO's breathing was deep and even, his face eerily peaceful as he slept. (M/n)'s heart pounded as the full realisation of the situation sank in. Bruises scattered his arms and legs, as if from rough handling, and an ache throbbed deep in his core—a telltale sign that something had happened, something he couldn't fully remember.

His mind raced. What had Lucian done to him?

He tried to sit up, but Lucian stirred in his sleep, tightening his grip around (M/n)'s waist. Panic bloomed in (M/n)'s chest as the CEO's cold, yet oddly intimate, touch pinned him in place.

"W-What the hell..." (M/n) whispered, his voice hoarse. He glanced at Lucian, his crimson eyes still shut in peaceful slumber, as if last night had been nothing but a dream to him.

(M/n)'s hands trembled as he reached for the blanket to cover himself, desperate to regain some semblance of modesty. But every movement sent another wave of pain through him, forcing him to stifle a whimper. He needed to get out. Now.

He wriggled carefully, trying not to wake the man beside him, but it was no use. Lucian's eyes snapped open—sharp, alert, and predatory.

"(M/n)..." Lucian murmured, his voice still thick with sleep but tinged with dangerous possessiveness. A lazy smile curled his lips as he watched the idol squirm beneath him. He brushed his fingers along (M/n)'s cheek with a gentleness that felt disturbingly out of place given the circumstances.