#neighbour!doyoung x reader

[peanutpinet]

Protection - Mafia! Jungwoo x fem reader

A/N: yes, this is another mafia NCT, this time, for a member that I rarely ever did but because my lovely friend @mymoodwriting is a fan of Jungwoo and she has always give in to writing for me, I want to do something for her and her bias. Hope you like it, Lin :)

Also, to the one that requested Jaemin, that is my next to-do and I already have a bit of a plot in mind. Minor spoiler in this one. Oh and you don't have to read Jeno, Haechan, or Taeyong's one to understand this but if you want to, I'll link it right below

Synopsis: NCT was developing a new technology to help them expand more and help them to always be one step ahead of their enemy

Warnings: mafia activities, a bit of cursing, slight angst, torture\

Taeyong's story: here

Jeno's story: here

Haechan's story: here

A smile could hide so many things that a person is feeling or doing. Whether it is their feelings or true identity. But Jungwoo learned to use his smile to not only protect his personal feelings but to also hide his true identity.

To his neighbours, Jungwoo was just a smart young man who was working in one of the best tech companies in the country, Neo-Tech. When in reality, Jungwoo co-owns the tech company along with Lee Taeyong, the leader of NCT, an infamous mafia in South Korea that has members from different parts of the world and has worldwide connections.

The only thing that people didn’t know was the core NCT members. While everyone knew the core leaders, Lee Taeyong, Mark Lee, and Qian Kun. There were many other core members under the leaders who were not made known to the world and oftentimes were just blending among the regular people. One of which was Jungwoo.

Walking into the tall building, Jungwoo greeted every single worker, from the security, the administration, to even the cleaning services of the building; all with a smile. Despite his tall, slightly unreachable figure, Jungwoo tries to be kind to everyone. Jungwoo would help the old lady from finance bring her paperwork, hold the door to the content team who were bringing big and heavy filming equipment to help his coworker’s work even if it wasn’t what he did.

Arriving at his desk, Jungwoo took his regular working laptop and got to work which was helping the HR filter out some candidates for an internship to be working under Jungwoo. Hours went by and Jungwoo started to get a bit hungry so he ordered some food while going to the breakroom to get coffee when he saw Taeyong and his personal assistant, Doyoung walking pass the breakroom. Stopping when he noticed Jungwoo gossipping with one of his coworkers.

“Ehem” Taeyong coughed, grabbing both Jungwoo and his coworker’s attention. “My office, now, Jungwoo” Taeyong stated, leaving his office but Jungwoo caught Doyoung eyeing and signalling him to come asap

“Sorry, I have to go. Boss is calling. But I hope that your operation will go well, Ms Choi” Jungwoo replied, throwing the paper cup into the trash as he went back to his desk to grab the necessary paperwork and laptop to Taeyong’s office, not forgetting to lock the door and closing the blinds

“You wanted to see me, boss” Jungwoo joked, acting as if he was a new worker in the company

“Drop the act, Jungwoo” Taeyong stated, unamused

“Geez, would it kill you to just live a little?” Jungwoo shrugged, sitting across Taeyong while Doyoung stood next to him. “Also, since when do you follow TY around?” Jungwoo asked, looking at Doyoung

“I’m part of the HR team here and his personal assistant regarding other business” Doyoung replied, rolling his eyes at the younger one

“Still. You follow him around like a pet” Jungwoo commented, annoying Doyoung that he almost strangled Jungwoo

“Enough. I can’t believe the younger ones are more easier to tame than you both” Taeyong reminded, making the two younger members stop

“So, what is it that you need from me? Broken weapons? Need an upgrade for your vehicle?” Jungwoo asked, crossing his leg over the other one

“Doyoung” Taeyong commanded and Doyoung took his tab out that showed a resume of a young college girl, placing it right in front of Jungwoo

“A college student?” Jungwoo questioned, swiping the tab to read more of the girl. “Holy. She’s from Korea Advanced Institute of Science & Technology (KAIST)?! Top of her class?! Researched about the potential worldwide satellite tracker?!” Jungwoo gasped

“She’s applying for internship here and will be directly under you. I want you to get close and work together to figure out that worldwide satellite tracker” Taeyong stated, making Jungwoo stopped scrolling

“You mean, you actually want me and this girl to upgrade our current satellite tracker to be able to be used worldwide?! Hyung, I’ve been researching and doing trials here and there for the past few months. I—” Jungwoo complained but Taeyong stopped him

“Don’t underestimate the girl, Jungwoo. I didn’t underestimate you when you first join us. When your college “friends” betrayed you and used your findings against you” Taeyong stated, standing up from his chair and swiped the tab once again

“She’s won multiple science fair since junior high. Always at the top of her class when it comes to anything science or maths related subject. Always receive scholarships since high school up till university. Her research on the worldwide satellite tracker won multiple attention from many other scientists. Even the US government wanted her knowledge. But of course, our government made a deal with us and it would benefit us greatly if you both actually managed to complete that tracker” Taeyong explained. “I don’t need you both to finish it that quickly but I need you to get as many information from her to upgrade our current tracker. She’s only going to be interning with us for only 6 months. Make them count” Taeyong added, placing a handful of the intern’s research in front of Jungwoo right as there was a knock to the door

“Come in” Taeyong mentioned. “Sorry to disturb you sir, the intern is here” the building’s security mentioned. “Right, bring her in, thank you” Taeyong mentioned and the security opened the door wider to reveal the new intern

“H-hi” the intern stuttered, clearly nervous when entering the boss’ room

“Hi. Don’t be nervous. Come, take a seat. That’s Jungwoo, by the way. He’s going to be your supervisor throughout your internship” Taeyong greeted the new intern

“H-hi. I’m (y/n). Please to meet you” the intern bowed at the older men before taking her seat right beside Jungwoo

“Hi. I’m Jungwoo. Welcome aboard! I promise you that you’ll learn lots of things and there won’t ever be a dull day with me around” Jungwoo exclaimed, taking in on (y/n)’s feature

“Oh, is that my research on the worldwide satellite tracker?” (y/n) questioned, looking at the paper on Taeyong’s table

“Right. I was just telling Jungwoo that you were also researching about that tracker. Jungwoo himself has been trying different things and I believe that with you onboard, it would help him a lot. You don’t have to finish it by the end of your internship. But if Jungwoo does manage to finish it with your help, there’ll be a big bonus for both of you” Taeyong explained

“I’ve never actually tried it myself since you know, I don’t have the equipment” (y/n) mentioned

“Then this is the perfect time for us to try it together. We have the equipment and you have the brains!” Jungwoo exclaimed, making (y/n) chuckle. “Yes, we can”

“Well, looks like the two of you are getting along. I trust Jungwoo will teach you around. Also, we don’t to overtime unless there’s a launching event but you don’t have to worry about that because we’ll compensate you for it. If Jungwoo gets a bit too much, feel free to tell Doyoung here. He’s the main HR of the company and my personal assistant” Taeyong explained

“Got it, boss!” (y/n) exclaimed back. “Here’s your laptop and welcome goodie bag. Jungwoo will show you around before actually giving you your tasks” Taeyong mentioned, taking out a laptop and goodie bag, handing it to (y/n)

“Oh?! Thank you!” (y/n) thanked Taeyong. “Here, let me help you. Let’s go, shall we?” Jungwoo offered, taking (y/n)’s laptop and standing up from his seat

Right before both Jungwoo and (y/n) leave, Taeyong called out to Jungwoo. “Jungwoo. Think about it” Taeyong reminded the younger one as Jungwoo and (y/n) left

Jungwoo’s POV After the little meeting with Taeyong, I helped (y/n) take some of her things to her new table which was right beside mine. Introducing her to the rest of the team before bringing her around the office for a mini office tour.

We started off with the regular floor which is where everyone does their work, a mini breakroom to make coffee or heat up some food or drinks. I then directed her towards our pantry where people can come to cook, have breakfast because as cold as Taeyong looks, he’s pretty considerate and provide different kinds of food, beverages, and snacks for everyone.

“Can we really take any of these food and drinks?” (y/n) asked

“Of course. I know Taeyong might look intimidating but he’s a very considerate boss. He pays us all well. He doesn’t push us. He would oftentime be hands on in some of the work, especially when it’s a busy week like launching a new product. You have nothing to worry about when Taeyong is the boss. Well, as long as you don’t get on his bad side” I joked

We then went to the floor where we do product testing where everyone run tests on the products, tries it, making revisions on the spot and even taking product pictures and video shots.

“So, this is where we do all our testing. We have 2 floors for testing. Well, we mainly use this floor for testing and the other floor is more so for product shots and videos. Sometimes with models as well” I explained

“Jungwoo, I need your help because Hae— is this the new intern?” I heard Jaehyun calling out to me

“Yeah, meet (y/n), the new intern. She’s directly under me. (y/n) meet…” I introduced (y/n) but apparently it seems that she knows Jaehyun first

“Jung Jaehyun, right? I’ve seen you model for Prada. Your last drama series was also amazing! I can’t believe that I get to see you. In real life!” (y/n) exclaimed, making Jaehyun’s ears turn bright red. “Thank you for the compliment, it’s always a pleasure to meet a fan. I hope Jungwoo hasn’t been too much for you” Jaehyun replied

“I’m right here?! What were you saying again, hyung?” I asked

“We can talk later, Jungwoo” Jaehyun brushed me off. “So, (y/n), I heard that you did research regarding the worldwide satellite tracker?” Jaehyun asked (y/n)

“Yeap. It was just a theory. But Taeyong boss said that me and Jungwoo oppa might be able to test the theory out!” (y/n) explained, her energy was very cheerful despite being at the office this early in the morning

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. I read your research paper and let me tell you, you’re definitely smarter than Jungwoo” Jaehyun half-whispered. “I heard you, hyung!” I scoffed whereas (y/n) just giggled

“A-are you a fan of all these science things? Sorry, I didn’t mean to just, you seem quite different from your on-screen persona” (y/n) asked

“No worries. I guess it’s because I’ve been a close friend of Taeyong for a long time. We go back since like senior year of high school and we’ve helped each other since. When Taeyong said that he needed my help to model his products, I was more than happy to help since Taeyong had helped me before. Plus, I used to suck with technology until this one taught me some tricks I could do with some of the products” Jaehyun explained, pointing at me

“Okay!! That’s enough backstory of you and Taeyong-hyung. Come (y/n), let’s go to the other floors and then we can start upgrading the satellite system” I mentioned, placing my hands on both of (y/n)’s shoulders, guiding her away from Jaehyun

“Don’t forget that I need to talk to you later, Jungwoo!” Jaehyun exclaimed and I waved him off

After bringing (y/n) around, it was lunchtime and I took (y/n) to our cafeteria and got her some food as we sat near the entrance since we came in a bit later than everyone else. Right as we were talking and getting to know each other, Haechan decided to come and disturb us.

“Hi. The name is Haechan. You must be the new intern” Haechan mentioned, sliding right beside (y/n) who was shocked at the sudden presence beside her

“Ya! You can’t just suddenly waltz in like that. Can’t you see we’re having lunch and how scared she is? Ignore him. He’s just a weirdo” I mentioned, reassuring (y/n) that Haechan is harmless

“I’m alright, Jungwoo-oppa, thank you. Hi! I’m (y/n), nice to meet you” (y/n) replied, taking her hand out which Haechan took to shake

“See, Jungwoo. You’re overreacting. Anyways, I’m Haechan, as I’ve mentioned. I work part-time here as the IT guy and part-time streamer. If there’s anything wrong with your laptop or anything wrong in terms of your technology, I’m the guy for it” Haechan boasted himself, making me scoff

“Thank you, Haechan. I’ll keep that in mind” (y/n) giggled

“Another thing to keep in mind is to not get on Taeyong’s bad side, you can bully Doyoung whenever you like because it’s fun. Oh and, I’m not sure if Jungwoo mentioned this to you already but do not. I repeat. Do. Not. Go to the absolutely forbidden place in this entire building. The backup backup storage room. Whether someone you know is in there and needs your help, do not go in there. Even if you have the access, you ask? Yes. Do not go in there” Haechan pointed out a piece of information that I accidentally forgot to mention

“Why? You keep dead bodies in there?” (y/n) joked, making me and Haechan look at each other

“Just don’t go in there, (y/n). You might not have access to that room but just in case if anyone who has it accidentally drops it, don’t use it to go in there. Even if there is an earthquake or whatever disaster” I mentioned, my tone was serious that it might’ve scared her a bit

“Okay. I won’t. I promise. Oh, lunchtime is over, shall we go, Jungwoo-oppa?” (y/n) asked

“Yeap. Let’s go grab some snacks from the snack bar and then start our work of the day” I exclaimed, helping (y/n) grab her tray. “See you later, Haechan” I mentioned

“Bye, hyung. Bye (y/n)!!” Haechan exclaimed

After grabbing some snacks, (y/n) and I went to one of the testing rooms to get started on our worldwide satellite tracker. I started by telling her about our current satellite tracking system which uses the current South Korean database hence we could find anyone in South Korea.

“It’s more complex when we’re talking worldwide database and we have already tried to access lots of the database from here and there but sometimes the connection would cut off” I explained, showing (y/n) the database that we had connected to the satellite

“Ahh right, I mentioned this in my thesis. I wrote that we need connectors in each continent like one in Asia, one in Europe. It acts like a phone, like our SNS in a way. You connect with one another to give and take information with each other” (y/n) explained

“Great. All we have to do is just build the connection devices, right?” I exclaimed

“Not quite. Each connection/transmitter device needs to be built with a chip that connects each of them together and activates them as a transmitter that links the data with one another” (y/n) explained. “Meaning, we need to create a chip that can be linked to our own devices so whenever our database is updated, so do the transmitters and the satellite” (y/n) added on

“Well then, what are we waiting for? Let’s get to work!” I exclaimed, smiling at (y/n) as she turned a slight pink hue

Time Skip to 5 Months Later

Throughout the past 5 months of (y/n)’s internship, we’ve gotten closer and even went to hang out with each other outside of working hours. I’ve come to know that (y/n) didn’t have the brightest childhood with her parents being harsh on her as she was their oldest daughter.

Not only that, she was always compared to her other family members who either are running a business, a doctor/lawyer, married to a rich guy and have kids already, and the list just goes on. It was heartbreaking to hear a young talented and smart girl being put down like this just because she was different from what most girls enjoy.

Plus, I also found out that her parents didn’t like her taking mechanical engineering, saying how it’s “too manly” and they even went as far as not wanting to fund her degree. But luckily enough, (y/n) was a smart and bright girl that she managed to get a fully funded scholarship from the university.

Throughout those 5 months, both (y/n) and I have slowly built all the chips that were linked to our main computer where our team would always update the database and while we haven't gotten to the exact part of building the transmitters, we have made much more progress as compared to before (y/n) joined us.

Because of this, I talked to Taeyong about potentially bringing (y/n) into our company full-time which he agreed since we were making a lot of progress because we’ve tested the chips on other devices between our internal NCT members to connect the database and it worked perfectly fine. Now the only thing left was building the transmitters; which is the easier job and then assembling everything and testing it in a larger distance. Which is the hard part.

3rd POV

But of course, building the machines wasn’t just the hard part because Haechan mentioned that there was a mole in the company who was working for one of NCT’s enemies who was also in the tech industry. While NCT wasn’t looking to sell our worldwide satellite tracking system, our enemies were and they have been eyeing (y/n) ever since her thesis on the tracking system went viral.

During lunchtime, Jungwoo was talking with (y/n) and Haechan like any other day when Kyungtae, one of their IT employees went up to their table, telling Jungwoo and Haechan that there was a bug, a virus in the company’s main computer, saying that one of the new IT guys accidentally bugged their computer which spread out through the company’s central computer.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. I told you that the new guy was weird. C’mon, Taeyong is gonna kill us” Haechan exclaimed

“(y/n), you’ll most probably leave early today so don’t wait on me. I’ll call a cab for you, alright?” Jungwoo mentioned, getting up along with Haechan. “Thanks for letting us know, Kyungtae” Jungwoo added, patting Kyungtae on his shoulder

“No problem, hyung” Kyungtae replied, patting Jungwoo back

“Alright. Be careful then, two of you! Hope everything will get resolved quickly” (y/n) reassured them, offering a smile as she watched the two males leave her

“You’re the new intern, (y/n), right?” Kyungtae asked, looking at (y/n)

“Yeap, that’s me. I think I’ve seen you before. You’re from IT, right? Sorry, I don’t know your name. I’m always in the lab with Jungwoo-oppa” (y/n) replied

“No worries. It’s Kyungtae. I heard that Jungwoo was going to call a cab for you, do you happen to go home alone?” Kyungtae asked

“Yeap. Typically I take public transportation but Jungwoo-oppa has been dropping me off since he found out I took public transport late at night” (y/n) replied

“Well, I can take you home, if you’d like. Jungwoo is right to take you home since it’s not really safe to be going home alone late at night” Kyungtae offered

“I’ll think about it. If I do, I’ll need to text Jungwoo-oppa first. Anyways, I think I should get back to my work. I’m finishing up my transmitters and my internship report. See you later, Kyungtae-oppa” (y/n) replied, slightly bowing before leaving the office canteen and going back to her work

Jungwoo’s POV

Haechan and I rushed to Taeyong’s office after walking past the IT section who were all in chaos trying to figure out the virus that was spreading through the computer. Knocking on Taeyong’s office door, we heard a rough sound from Taeyong, telling us to come in.

“Hyung? We heard what happened” I mentioned, coming in with Haechan

“It’s not just a regular virus. Someone breached all of our security and nearly reached the one that NCT made” Taeyong replied, showing us each security wall that was breached

“Shit. Let me check it real quick, hyung” Haechan exclaimed, going over towards Taeyong’s desk and opening the computer to review all the security walls that were broken by the virus

“Also, there’s a mole working in this company” Taeyong pointed out, making both me and Haechan look at him in shock. “Do you have any leads on who it could be?” I asked

“Someone from IT. Because the only people who would and could access anything on our database would be the IT system and engineer. But I’m 100% sure that it’s the IT because only someone that smart and knows the computer and system back and forth would be able to come here and even hack into the system” Taeyong replied

“Hyung!! We need access to the NCT system” Haechan mentioned

“Alright, let’s go there then” Taeyong replied as the 3 of us headed to the forbidden storage room where we have one of NCT’s main computers that helps power up all the tech and database for the company.

However, upon reaching and opening the door to the storage room, all three of us were shocked to see (y/n) in the room. Without even thinking, I yanked (y/n)’s wrist. Questioning her on why she was here. “What are you doing here?! Who brought you in here?! You’re going to get in trouble” I exclaimed

“What’s the difference with you?” (y/n) whispered back, making me confused

“What are you?” I asked. “You used me. All of you! You just wanted me to finish your satellite and then ditch me, weren’t you?” (y/n) confronted and that’s when I noticed all the computers behind her showing all her background information

“(y/n), let’s talk about this, alright?” I reasoned but she yanked her arm away from my grip and walked away, standing in front of Taeyong

“Are you going to do some MIB shit and wipe my memory of all of this? Or are you going to put me somewhere until you know what you want to do to me?” (y/n) asked and Taeyong let out a long harsh sigh. “You didn’t see much since the important information is completely protected by the top cyber security in the country. So, go to my office and wait until I get back” Taeyong stated and (y/n) just slightly bowed before leaving the room, leaving the three of us together

“Which one of you lost the card?” Taeyong asked right when (y/n) left and the door was locked again

“I have it with me since I was the one that opened it” Haechan replied and both him and Taeyong looked over at me

“It’s in my…” I mumbled but as I rummaged in every single one of my pockets, it was nowhere and I instantly panicked. “Shit. I, I lost it. I swear I always have it with me, hyung” I exclaimed

“Haechan, fix the virus that’s spreading in the company. I’ll find Jungwoo’s key access card” Taeyong-hyung stated, going towards one of the computers to find my card since every single one of our cards have a tracking chip on it

“My card. It’s…” I mumbled. “Moving. Someone stole your card. Recall anyone touching you near your pockets or anything? Because it’s moving fast from this building to another…” Taeyong asked as he tries to use our current satellite tracker to track my card

I tried to recall who would steal the card or who touched me, specifically my pockets throughout the day since I know for a fact that I still had my card the other day. Right as I was trying to remember, Jaehyun suddenly called us through our in-ear.

“Guys. Is (y/n) alright? I saw her going into Taeyong’s office but right when I walked past again, she was gone. I asked someone if they saw anything and one of the staff mentioned that Kyungtae was carrying her and that she was unconscious. Kyungtae said that she fainted right as he was putting some paperwork into Taeyong’s office” Jaehyun mentioned

“She was fine literally a few minutes ago” Haechan replied, finally fixing the cyber security of our company. “Hyung, you might want to check this” Haechan exclaimed and we went to his side right as Haechan opened the front security camera and saw Kyungtae putting (y/n) in a black minivan

“Jaehyun! Go with Jeno and find this van” Taeyong exclaimed, sending Jaehyun and Jeno the security footage that we just saw

“Jungwoo. Finish that global tracker. We need it. Kyungtae must know that there’s a tracker chip in that card. He’s going to eventually take that chip out. So I suggest you finish that tracker while you can” Taeyong instructed

“But hyung, the transmitters should be placed in each continent to collect the data” I debated. “We don’t need to go that far just yet. But we do need every information about (y/n) and Kyungtae. I’m sure that that won’t be so hard since it’s just an upgrade from our Korea tracker” Taeyong replied

“Alright. I’m going to grab the chips and put it in the computer” I mentioned, going out of the room to grab the chips that both me and (y/n) finished making and even testing

Back in the storage room, both Haechan and I put in the chips with the new database and started to look for (y/n) and Kyungtae through every single security camera in South Korea. Hacking into every tech device that has a built-in camera to search for their faces, what vehicles are they in, and even tracking their live location.

“Taeyong. The signal is gone. They took out the chip” Jaehyun stated. “Jungwoo” Taeyong called out to me

“We’re just about done, hyung. Our computer is using the satellite to connect with every tech devices in South Korea. There we go, they…They’re at the harbour in Busan. They’re going to make an escape to another country!” I exclaimed, immediately rushing out

“Hold on!” Taeyong exclaimed. “Haechan, I’ll have Doyoung come here and accompany you. Standby and keep us updated. Jaehyun, Jeno, go after them. Make sure they don’t escape. Go on the ship if you have to. Jungwoo, you can bring one of the chips and they’ll still be connected with the one Haechan is handling, right?” Taeyong added and I nodded

“Alright. Grab one of the chips, we’re going to sea. I’ll let Yuta, Hendery, and Johnny know that we might need their help since it’ll be on sea” Taeyong mentioned and I quickly followed him

Arriving at the Busan harbour, Jaehyun and Jeno told us that Kyungtae hasn’t left yet because according to Yuta and his Japan team, they were waiting for backup from Japan but Yuta and his team found out about it first and hijacked their ship so when Kyungtae is waiting for backup, it’ll actually be our backup.

After Taeyong instructed us on the plan, both Jaehyun and Jeno immediately confronted Kyungtae who was immediately flustered. “Better stop what you’re thinking. Even if you escape, we’ll always find you again” Jaehyun mentioned but Kyungtae just laughed

“Because you build that tracker that can track almost anyone? So what? I have the girl that can build a device to counter yours” Kyungtae exclaimed but Taeyong and I immediately came towards the other side, cornering Kyungtae

“No way we’re letting you take her with you” I exclaimed, grabbing everyone’s attention

“Right, because you need her to finish your little transmitters?” Kyungtae questioned, taking the blueprints that both (y/n) and I worked day and night to finish then ripped it in front of us right as a ship from Japan arrived

“Even if the leader of NCT himself is here, you all can’t possibly match up against a lot of people, now can you?” Kyungtae chuckled as he took an unconscious (y/n) out of his car, making sure to hold a knife right by her neck, just to make sure that we wouldn’t do anything

But right as Kyungtae thought that it was his backup that came, Yuta held a gun right behind Kyungtae’s head, making him shudder. “I think you want to rethink that” Yuta growled right as Jeno and Jaehyun handled Kyungtae while I took (y/n) out of Kyungtae’s grip

Jungwoo’s apartment - 9:12 pm

It’s been hours since I came back and Xiaojun and Kun took a look at (y/n), telling me that she was just asleep since Kyungtae most probably drugged her and the only injury she had were just a few bruises which Kun concluded that she got them from trying to fight off Kyungtae.

Not knowing when she’d wake up, I decided to clean up the apartment, cook some soup just in case (y/n) woke up hungry and showered. Right when I finished my shower, I heard some shuffling from (y/n)’s room and quietly opened the door to see her slowly wake up.

“Hey. Are you hungry? I made some soup” I uttered, grabbing (y/n)’s attention but she didn’t respond to me. Instead, she just scanned the room she was in. “You’re in my apartment. I brought you back here. To make sure that you’re alright. And to apologise” I added but (y/n) still didn’t respond so I just kept on going.

“I’m sorry that it might seem that I, Taeyong, and the company were using you by offering you a large amount of income. But I’m not sorry that we were the ones that took you in first. Sure, maybe during the first few weeks was just me trying to get more information out of you but after a few months, all that thought of using you was gone. I even convinced Taeyong that you should join us, permanently. We were about to break the news to you but then you went into the storage room and found some of our information” I admitted. “I know that it might feel that we, I, am betraying you because I know how much you yearned for that recognition from someone close to you and it seemed that we were using you but we’re not. And I promise you that you’ll be save under us” I added, sitting right by her feet

“It’s not like I got much of a choice, is it? Even if you guys let me off and I want to just bury everything underground, you will always be watching me and I don’t want that” (y/n) finally uttered and I instinctively grabbed her hand. “You’ll always have a choice. I promise you that. Watching over you is not because you saw something that’s supposed to be a secret but because I made it so that you’re under our protection” I replied

“I know that things might’ve gotten a bit…rough but I hope that you’ll forgive us because it’d be a bummer if we don’t get to finish that thesis of yours” I joked, making (y/n) chuckle a bit

“I get that you guys have your secrets but don’t ever do something like this to another person. Ever.” (y/n) argued and I chuckled. “Promise” I smiled at her

NCT Base - 2:17 am

“This is like the third guy that won’t admit unless Taeyong gracefully walks in and enlightens us with his presence” Haechan groaned

“What do you expect, he’s the leader after all” Jeno replied, making Haechan roll his eyes

“I expect for us to be done quicker so I can go home and cuddle” Haechan ranted. “Why don’t we just, you know, somewhat drown him but not drown him? Just make it so that he’s on the verge of not being able to breathe, you know?” Haechan added on, standing right behind Kyungtae. “I mean, you wanted to go to Japan, right? How about we help you, you know, just in case your ship drowns and you have to swim all the way to Japan?” Haechan provoked

“Lee Haechan” Taeyong scolded, making the younger one backed away. “No fun at all” Haechan scoffed

“You had your fun, remember Haechan?” Taeyong stated, making Haechan huff in annoyance

“Going to talk? Or I’ll let Jungwoo and Haechan have their way with you. Who do you work for and why do you want (y/n)?” Taeyong questioned

“You don’t know. Do you?” Kyungtae scoffed but it intrigued Taeyong

“See, I have many enemies. And many wanted (y/n) to work for them so they could have the most advanced technology. Unfortunately for you and your client, we have her first” Taeyong replied

“My client doesn’t want (y/n) to just advance their technology. There’s a specific person he’s searching for” Kyungtae stated but when Taeyong questioned him again, Kyungtae stayed silent

Taeyong looked over to Jungwoo and signalled him. Jungwoo then moved to stick some patches on the side of Kyungtae’s temple. “Wh-what are you doing?!” Kyungtae protested

“Nothing much. Be grateful that you’re going to be our first test subject” Jungwoo smiled as he turned on the machine, shocking Kyungtae’s brain, making him have an intense headache but also gathering some data

“Who is this specific person that they’re looking for? My members? Me?” Taeyong questioned again but Kyungtae refused to answer again which made Jungwoo send more shockwaves to his brain

“See, we have all night to do this and when we get tired and bored with your brain, we can have other kinds of fun. Maybe even let Haechan help you swim” Taeyong taunted

“You. You don’t understand. He’ll kill me if I admit everything to you” Kyungtae pleaded

“Could be worse. I’d have you torture first until you admit something or you wish we would’ve killed you. Now talk while I’m being patient. Who is it” Taeyong taunted

When Kyungtae didn’t let out any sound, Jungwoo was ready to fire the shockwave again until Taeyong stopped him. Telling him that Kyungtae let out a whisper. A name. A name that he hasn’t heard since the day he helped Na Jaemin. Nam Goongmin.

A/N: Yeap, that's a tiny spoiler for the next mafia story, Na Jaemin :)) Also to anyone who wants to request a fanfic while also supporting my writing, you can request it on my Fiverr. Hope you all enjoyed reading this story and I'll see y'all in the next one. Stay safe and healthy xoxo vinet

Support me on Fiverr

[doiefy]

mad city // nct series

GENRE: sci fi, biopunk, dystopian, thriller PAIRINGS: features both x reader and mxm fics MEMBERS: johnny, doyoung, jaehyun, jungwoo, mark, possibly more to come!

note: if this series looks somewhat familiar, it's because it is! this is a massive rework of my old 'fight or flight' fic for doyoung, which I posted almost two years ago (pls don't read it, like 69% of it isn't canon anymore and I kinda hate it anyways). it's been a real struggle turning it into something I actually want to write for again (which involved changing the original plotline from x reader to dojae, for which I am VERY unapologetic, don't fucking touch me), but after a year or so of on-and-off planning, here it is. I can't guarantee that I’ll get these fics out super speedily, as I also want them to be very visual and will be spending a shit ton of time on graphics; but if you're interested in a tag list for any of these fics, let me know!

WHAT PEOPLE HAVE REFERRED TO AS THE SPLIT: the fracturing of life as it once was, the steady decline of the natural world, all perpetuating political tensions and rampant crime in two rival cities. 

To the north lies Iameh, an urban paradise of impressive art and culture, resulting from centuries of mining and exploitation—a pristine exterior built upon the hardship of their southern neighbours. In one of their forgotten limestone quarries lies Siacia: Iameh’s shadow, their forsaken history, but a thriving metropolis nonetheless. 

Siacia is all the blinding colours and deafening sound that Iameh is not, boasting citizens with supernatural powers and the most sinister advancements in biotech. From their empty mineshafts and grotesque lifeforms in the quarry lake arises Burner: the Siacians’ fuel, their weaponry, and their only chance against the genetic mutations that plagued them for generations.

But like all things that come out of the ground, Burner is exploited. It is quickly monopolized, used as a drug, turned into a bargaining chip by the Assembly, a loose organization of businessmen and mutants claiming to be Siacia’s ruling government. Those on the streets of the Quarry and its four cardinal faces know very well: what the Assembly demands from them must be given, lest they face their wrath. 

So the fissure spreads and opens wider between the two cities, between all people—only a matter of time before one finds themselves dangling off the edge. 

VOLUME 1: FIGHT OR FLIGHT

pairing: doyoung x jaehyun dark comedy with a side of angst, gay shenanigans and way too many dirty jokes.

KIM DOYOUNG HAS SPENT THE LAST THREE YEARS surviving the Quarry streets alone: hunting bounties for the Coffee Cow (a ruthless contract killing agency despite their name), making poor decisions at drinking establishments, and searching for his missing brother. 

It’s on one trip to the bar that he runs into Jay: a charming, well-mannered businessman from the East Lanes, with a dimpled smile and particular taste for aged whiskey. One occasion turns into two into multiple—the two seeing each other more frequently with slowly-changing intentions, until the truth comes out. Jay, Jung Jaehyun to his close colleagues, is one of the Assembly’s founding members. Which, unfortunately, means he might have something to do with Doyoung’s missing brother, and makes him one hell of an enticing target.

The resultant cat-and-mouse chase across the city is as frustrating as it is exhilarating. But in a shocking turn of events, it reveals a destructive force beyond the both of them, one that needs their immediate attention and collaboration—regardless of who they are to each other. 

anticipated release: summer/fall 2024

VOLUME 2: VIOLET CRAZY

pairing: kim jungwoo x f!reader, johnny seo x reader angst wrapped in drama, tumultuous relationships, a slow but sure descent into madness.

In the aftermath of Johnny Seo’s return, the city of Siacia is not as it once was. Tensions with Iameh are on a steady incline, Assembly politics remain a treacherous game, all while a new strain of Burner spreads through the streets like wildfire. You and Kim Jungwoo are most apathetic to the recent chaos—the two of you like two sides of the same coin, both endlessly spiteful, now embroiled in a feud of your own. For as long as you could remember, your relationship with Jungwoo was one purely of grudge and petty revenge. 

But when Johnny begins his reign of terror, perhaps the two of you are in no position to be idle bystanders. Tragedy strikes Jungwoo’s family, and he has a reluctant change of heart. On the other hand, you remain by Johnny’s side, simply watching his flames burn hotter and rise higher. Merely overnight, your long-standing rivalry with Jungwoo has turned into a struggle for the future of the undercity. The inevitable resurfacing of your past, your forgotten history with Jungwoo, and Johnny’s inexplicable grip on you—it won’t be long before it all reaches a boiling point in the crucible. 

And certainly not long before you’re forced to face the repercussions. 

anticipated release: summer 2025

VOLUME 3: RIDE OR DIE

pairing: mark lee x gn!reader from meet-cute to heated romance. ride or die. madly in love to the bittersweet end.

Breakfast tea with magazines and tabloids. Clay-stained aprons and paint-smeared jeans. Afternoon tea with so-and-so, then back to the kiln and canvases. Dinner party with your fellow curators, handling flawless plates and dainty dessert spoons and immaculate champagne glasses—rinse and repeat, again and again, the routine of an Iamehan artist and socialite. 

Quickly growing tired of all the glitter and glamour of topside, you take a trip back to your roots: the north faces of Siacia, where you can shed all the silk and cashmere in exchange for the nightlife you grew up with. Dancing wildly to rediscover yourself and inspire your art, that’s when you find your muse: Mark Lee, a VIP at the Obelisk Nightclub, blue-haired and bright-eyed, immersed in the stories you tell him. 

You could stay with him forever, seeking thrills and adventure until you reach the ends of the earth. And yet, there is still much more awaiting: the unpleasant and the unideal, and the thwarting of your course by the stars above. 

anticipated release: TBD

VOLUME 4: WHEN THE SUN SETS

pairing: johnny seo x gn!reader psychological horror turned body horror. toxic romance and a tragic end. (!!) mature content, including manipulative, toxic relationships and darker themes some readers may find disturbing.

Johnny Seo is a reasonable man. A patient man, certainly, never reckless, never cruel. Johnny is loving, the perfect lover. Devoted, and devoted wholeheartedly to you. 

In the days and months after the Assembly’s establishment, he keeps you with him at every turn of the road: arm around your waist, head in the crook of your neck, always whispering and promising you better days. A sovereign Siacia is coming, he says. She will be free from the clutches of your northern neighbours, free to do as she pleases. You believe him—until one night, when he comes home bloody and beat-up, furious and unrecognizable. 

Johnny Seo is a meticulous man. A calculated mastermind, certainly, never reckless until he’s perfectly sure, never cruel unless he has to be. Johnny is cunning, the perfect trickster. Obsessive, and obsessed with keeping your memory alive. Obsessed with keeping you with him, an eternal part of him.

anticipated release: TBD

[milkybonya]

sticky situation

warnings: food mentions

Pairing: office worker!Doyoung x neighbour/co-worker!(gender neutral)reader

word count: 1-2k ?

Summary: you have a crush on Doyoung, your neighbour who lives three floors above you, but you’re too shy to confront him, so you leave sticky notes on his door. Desperate to find out who’s been leaving notes on his door but not wanting to approach you in case you don’t want him to, Doyoung patiently waits until you step forward first. With the help of Jungwoo, your co-worker and best friend (who sadly has a one-sided crush on you), you’re able to get out of this sticky situation.

what i listened to while writing: We Still (Be With U) - Astro

[a/n]: the synopsis is long and this is a mess and the ending is in need of a part 2 but i had fun writing this so i hope you’ll enjoy -- this is not properly edited because i’m sleepy but wanted to post this asap so pls forgive me ily

When you first saw him at the office, you didn’t think much other than wow, this guy is kind of handsome. After that, you moved on and continued with your day. It was when you saw him moving into your complex when you started to think that maybe this was fate. 

The way he looked so neat at work with his hair parted comma style, his suit well-ironed and his watch glistening under the florescent lights perfectly contrasted with the way he looked when he moved in: hair a fluffy mess, baggy sweater sitting awkwardly on top of his sweatpants, mismatched socks peeking out of his sneakers.

He was so cute. He was so perfect. And you didn’t even know his name... until you read it from his office ID card but still... you had fallen for an almost-stranger and you were feeling helpless..

“You know those messages written in marker on the bathroom stalls? Do you ever just wonder who writes those?” your friend, Jungwoo, asked, bending down to sit in the chair across from you.

“Why?” you asked, sipping your drink through your reusable straw.

“There were just a bunch of those in the bathroom and it made me wonder... who brings a marker to the washroom and who writes those things?”

You felt like a lightbulb went off in your head, and it was probably visible in your expression.

“What’s up?” Jungwoo asked, being the one to take a sip from their drink this time.

“I’ve got an idea...”

Doyoung left the house each morning at 7:45am sharp. You knew this because you happened to be outside of your unit, watering some of your hanging plants in the morning when Doyoung would rush by with a quiet “excuse me”.

He returned home at around 6:30pm each evening. This routine would happen each day except for the weekends. On Saturdays he would go for an early morning run at 7am, and on Sundays, he wouldn’t leave the house until 5pm to go for another run.

You had his timetable memorized, which means you knew when to place the sticky notes on his door while avoiding being caught by him.

Did I mention that your plan was to place sticky notes on his door?

Your friend’s thoughts about bathroom stalls made you think that even if you couldn’t confess your feelings to Doyoung directly or even befriend him in any way because of how shy you were, you could at least leave messages on his door to brighten his day.

When you went home, you went through the stationary you had and picked out your favourite sticky notes and a pen that you would only use for this purpose.

“good evening! enjoy your evening run~” you wrote, since it was 4pm on a Sunday and you knew that he would soon leave for his run.

You quickly got up with the sticky note in your hand and crept up the stairs to the third floor where Doyoung lived. Looking left then right and confirming that no one could see you, you gently pressed the sticky note against his front door, rubbing it with your thumb to make sure it wouldn’t fall off.

Standing back to make sure it would be at his eye level, you then ran downstairs to your floor and peeked up through the space in-between the stairs. A few minutes later, the door to Doyoung’s unit opened and he stepped out, turning to close and lock the door behind him. He paused, though, reading your note on his door.

Looking around, he tried to find who had placed it there, but there was no one on his floor. So he gently removed it, folded it and placed it in his pocket, not wanting to lose it. When he started to jog down the stairs, you quickly opened the door to your own unit and went inside, not wanting to get caught. Through the peephole, you watched Doyoung run past with the trace of a smile on his face, and it made you happy.

You considered going up to place another sticky note on his door for him to see when he got back, but you thought that would be too much, so you decided to just leave it at that for today.

-

The next day, you rolled out of bed at seven and despite not being able to see clearly since your face was puffy, you walked to your desk to pick up your sticky notes and pen.

Thinking of what to write, you decided on a simple "have a nice day and a good start to the week!" except because you were so sleepy, you wrote 'day' as 'daay' and 'week' as 'weak' so the sticky note was a bit messy.

Not wanting Doyoung to think you couldn't spell or were too lazy to try again, you scrapped that note and rewrote it on another sheet.

Pulling on a hoodie, you quickly washed your face before stumbling upstairs to stick it on his door. You then managed to eat breakfast before it was 7:45am and you snuck outside to see Doyoung's reaction to the sticky note this time.

When he walked out, you fell back against the door seeing his neatly styled hair and his freshly ironed suit hanging off his frame. His skin was glowing under the early rays of the sun, and his smile when he looked at your note was enough to make you grasp at your fastly beating heart for dear life.

Again, he folded the note and placed it in his pocket before he rushed downstairs and you had to quickly enter your unit to avoid being caught.

-

At work, your manager asked you to take some documents down to the PR team. When your Jungwoo, who worked at the office with you, overhead this, he texted you.

[y/n]!!! Doyoung works for the PR team! use this chance to do something!

You had told your friend about your crush on Doyoung and boy were you grateful that you did.

Taking the documents from your manager, you walked out into the hallway and stopped there to think.

Did he like coffee? You'd never seen him leave with one in his hand when he left his house.. Maybe he bought one at work? Would it be okay for you to buy one and leave it at his desk?

You decided to text Jungwoo for help.

does Doyoung like coffee?? would it be ok if i got him some?

everyone in this crappy office likes coffee! it's the only way we can survive!

With that, you set off to the company café to buy a drink for Doyoung. Then, in the elevator on the way to his floor, you took out a pack of sticky notes which you had stashed in your pockets and a pen to write a message.

"do you like coffee? i hope you do.. enjoy this and have a good day!" you wrote, sticking it onto the side of the cup.

You stared at it in satisfaction before the silver elevator doors opened and you left to find the PR room. When you found it, you decided you were going to drop off Doyoung's coffee first, but there was just one problem.

You had no clue where his spot was. And Doyoung was nowhere to be seen.

And what would people think when they saw you drop off a coffee for him after asking where he sat? Would they think you're his s/o? Would they ask him about it? Just the thought of Doyoung being bothered by people asking questions because of your mistake made you--your phone vibrated in your pocket. You unlocked it to find an unread message from Jungwoo.

psst. he sits in front of the manager, on the manager's left side. ur welcome.

Thank heavens for sticky notes and best friends.

After finding the manager, which was easy just by the way they sat and the mood that everyone around them showed on their faces, you casually walked towards them while dropping Doyoung's coffee off on his desk and facing the sticky note side towards his computer so no one could see or read it.

Then you gave the manager the documents and got the hell out of there.

On your way out and in your hurry, you brushed shoulders against someone and immediately turned to apologize.

"It's okay," Doyoung said with a smile, continuing to walk off to his spot.

You had just brushed shoulders with Doyoung... Doyoung?!

You ran to the elevators before he would have any chance of discovering that you left the coffee at his desk.

-

Once he was at his desk, Doyoung sat down with a sigh, stretching out his limbs before sitting tall and straight again. His hands moved to his keyboard to begin typing, but froze after seeing a cup of coffee in front of him.

Had he told someone that he had been craving an Americano?

He didn't recall doing this.

Who had placed it there? He looked around but no one made any eye contact.

After asking the person working next to him about it, who said they had no clue, he just decided to drink it.

As he did, his fingers felt a piece of paper on the cup. Turning it around in his hand, he found a sticky note with a cheerful message written on it.

"do you like coffee? i hope you do.. enjoy this and have a good day!"

What was this familiar tone of writing? Could it be..

He pulled out the folded note from his pocket that had been on his front door that morning, unfolded it and held it next to the note on the cup.

The handwriting was a perfect match.

-

6pm, the time read. You moved your fingers faster against your keyboard. You only had half an hour before Doyoung would get home and you were still cooped up in the office. It had been your own fault -- you kept imagining what Doyoung's reaction to the coffee had been. Did he hate it and throw it out? Did it make him feel sick because he has a coffee allergy?

"[y/n]."

You hummed as you looked up from your desk to face Jungwoo.

"Go home. I'll finish up the rest of our task for the both of us," Jungwoo said with a small smile.

"Really?" you asked in disbelief.

"Yeah!"

"I owe you!" you replied, grabbing your coat before leaving the office.

"Big time," Jungwoo said.

-

6:25pm, you made it home. You were wet from the rain and dried off your hands so you could write the next note.

"how was your monday? i hope it was productive and not too tiring. enjoy a good rest!"

As you were about to peel it off, you noticed a bag of candy that you had left on your desk. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to leave one for Doyoung..

In the few minutes that you had left, you taped a candy to the note and left your unit in a rush to tape the note to Doyoung's door. You made it downstairs and into your unit just as Doyoung entered the complex and began to walk upstairs.

When he passed your unit, you quietly stepped out so you could see his reaction. He smiled immediately when he saw the familiar writing on his door, and turned the candy around in his hand before unwrapping it and popping it into his mouth. He closed his eyes and savoured the flavour, and your heart bursted into a million butterflies just watching him smile from above you.

He pocketed the note and looked around then down. He would've seen you if you hadn't been quick-witted and quickly hidden yourself.

"Whoever you are, if you're still nearby, I just wanted to say thank you.." Doyoung said quietly before opening the door to his unit. It beeped as it locked behind him.

-

Since that day, you left a note on Doyoung's door twice a day, even on weekends. Each time, Doyoung would pocket the note with a smile, and you were beginning to wonder what he did with them afterwards.

You started to leave little gifts for him along with the notes by taping flowers or candy to his door. Seeing his reaction made you happy, and the times he'd adorably walk up to the door with his eyes squeezed shut as he wondered if a new note would be awaiting to then open his eyes and grin as he saw it there... it all filled your days with so much happiness.

You were just an office worker before Doyoung, living every day like the rest. Now, you were so happy. Your secret admirer persona made you happy.. until you weren't so secret anymore.

Doyoung was desperate to find out who you were.

He had found himself getting excited from your notes, his heart fluttering as he traced the lettering with his fingers despite not having the slightest clue about who left these notes. He felt like he was pathetic for feeling this way.

Doyoung had figured out your routine and what times you would place the notes on his door, so he decided he would head out to work just a little earlier one morning. As he crept towards the metal railing across from his unit to peek down at the stairs, he saw you leave your unit and walk upstairs.

Did this mean you were the person leaving notes at his door? Or were you just coming upstairs for a different reason?

He purposely stomped around upstairs, making noise to see what your reaction would be. You froze in response, looked up to see the door to Doyoung's unit open, and fled back to your own unit.

Doyoung had a feeling that he had found you.

You waited for exactly ten minutes before deciding that it was safe to leave. Perhaps Doyoung just felt the need to get some air a little earlier this morning.

When you closed your door behind you, your hand brushed against a thing piece of paper that felt to the ground after you touched it. After you picked it up, you notice there was writing on it.

"have i found the source of my daily happiness? thank you for leaving notes for me.."

You were so in awe that you had to read it a few times over to understand that it was real. Your crush. Had called you 'the source of his daily happiness'. You. A source of happiness.

It made you so happy that you jumped up, stomping your feet against the ground. Doyoung, who was quietly watching from upstairs, smiled to himself seeing your reaction.

Don't worry, Doyoung still didn't know what you looked like. All he could see was the top of your head and your back, and he purposely kept it that way because he had a feeling you didn't want him to find out who you were. I mean, the anonymous sticky notes kind of gave that away.

But now he knew where your door was, and nothing could stop him from leaving notes for you, too.

Doyoung would always leave a note on your door before you left one on his. In the mornings, he'd sometimes even leave you sandwiches or snacks, writing that he'd had some extra breakfast foods lying around snd wanted to share some.

He was lying, though.

He'd gone out of his way, googling the most popular breakfast snacks and attempting to make the sandwich three times before he got it to look just right.

At work, the two of you never saw each other, and if you ever saw Doyoung walking towards you, you'd immediately hide out of sight. Doyoung still didn't know you worked in the same place as him. He only knew you as a neighbour, and you preferred it that way.

What if he'd think lowly of you when he discovered that you were still just an intern almost reaching the end of your internship and unsure if you would actually be hired? You couldn't risk it.

This sticky note situation continued on for weeks until your friend, Jungwoo, decided he'd had enough.

"[y/n], this needs to stop."

"What needs to stop?" you asked him, washing the dishes in your kitchen while Jungwoo sat on your couch.

"This secret admirer thing. It's been weeks and he clearly likes you."

"Clearly? Where? How?" you asked, throwing down the dish towel and turning around to face him.

"He's been leaving notes for you, too. He knows all your favourite snacks now and always buys them for you. Would just a friend do any of this?"

"Yeah, you," you said, sticking your tongue out at him.

"I also have a crush on you, you dummy, so I'd know how people with crushes on you act," Jungwoo muttered.

"What?" you asked, walking towards where he was sitting.

"Nothing. I said I've heard the rumours circulating around Doyoung and his coworkers that Doyoung likes someone and I'm pretty sure it's you," Jungwoo said, laying back and placing his hands behind his head.

"How are you so sure it's me?" you asked, sitting next to him.

"Because as I was grabbing coffee from the break room on their floor, I heard it all. One of Doyoung's coworkers was talking about how Doyoung has gone insane and has fallen for someone who sticks hand written notes on his door. He doesn't even know what this person looks like but he talks about them in the office during breaks all the time."

"You heard this? Actually?" you ask. You can feel the blood in your body rushing to your face as your heart pumps quickly. Doyoung... in love.. with you?

"I swear I heard this. I'm your friend, why would I lie?" Jungwoo pointed out, spitting out the word friend as though it was poison.

"So what do I do?"

"Set up a date and meet him!"

"Just...like that?"

"Yes."

"I can't," you sighed, burying your face in your hands.

"I haven't spoken to him. Just imagining it makes me want to hide under my bed... Me... speaking to Doyoung while on a date? Us looking at each other and..."

"[y/n]! Come on! You are going on a date with Doyoung and that's that. And I'll be here to help you."

You smiled at Jungwoo who smiled back, feeling a bittersweet ache in his heart.

-

The next morning, after reading Doyoung’s sticky note on your door which wished you a good day, you walked up to his unit with a special sticky note in your hand. Taking a deep breath, you stuck it to his door and rushed down. This time, you didn’t stand outside and wait to see his reaction. You headed in and pressed your back against the door.

Your heart was racing.

“i hope you also have a wonderful day, Doyoung! this day will come to an end soon, but there is still tomorrow~ would you like to spend your tomorrow with me? you can knock on my door whenever you’re ready. if you don’t knock, i’ll understand that you’re busy or didn’t want to come :)”

This note was scandalous in your mind, but Jungwoo insisted that you write it like that. To you, it sounded like you were cornering Doyoung into spending a day with you, because he’d pretty much be the bad guy if he said no to this.

Your stomach felt like a black hole, and slowly slid down to the floor. Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you decided that you would call in sick. You did not want to go to work today.

Okay, let’s use this day to prepare for tomorrow. What are we even going to do? What will I wear?

Like the adorable soul you are, you searched google for the top places to take someone on a date near you. Some cool things showed up like museums, art galleries, but you decided that they wouldn’t be so good. In places like that, your focus would move to the art, and you wouldn’t want Doyoung to feel left out. So instead, you found a cute café.

Though your heart was already racing at the thought of talking to Doyoung face to face, you decided that was what you had to do. You have to get to know him. That’s what Jungwoo told you.

Next, you moved to the closet to pick out some clothes. Nothing too tight that would make you feel more anxious than you already were, but not something too casual. Once you found what you were looking for, you laid it out on your couch.

For the rest of the day, you binged romance dramas and movies in hopes that you would be inspired and learn a thing or too. Whether or not they’d work, you’d find out tomorrow.

Once Doyoung stepped out of his unit and reached for the familiar sticky note left on his door, he was preparing himself for another message of good luck, something short and sweet to give him energy to start his day with.

He was not expecting to be asked out on a date in such a cute way.

Despite the air being slightly frosty, he felt his face getting warm and he crouched down out of excitement. How was he going to work today knowing that he was going to meet you tomorrow? This wouldn’t work. He had to call in sick.

When Jungwoo found out that both you and Doyoung had called in sick that day, he knew that your plan was going to be a success.

-

Somehow, you made it to the next day. You had barely slept, your heart had been racing for the past 24 hours and you were not ready. 

Your phone vibrated.

[y/n], this is a once in a lifetime chance. even if it doesn’t go well, at least u will have gone on a date with Doyoung!!!

Jungwoo’s message was enough to get you out of bed and in the bathroom to wash up. You changed into your outfit for the day, got some breakfast in you and waited.

Waited.

This was the worst part.

Maybe you should have given Doyoung a time, but you didn’t want to bother him in case he was sleeping in on this Saturday morning. Just in case, even though you already knew his daily shedule.

Doyoung had not slept a wink last night either. He got up early and headed for a local flower shop to pick something up for you. He wasn’t even sure you liked flowers, but assumed you did, since you often taped flowers to your sticky notes when you left them on his door.

“May I ask what occasion this is for?” the worker asked Doyoung.

“Ah... a first date?” Doyoung croaked out shyly.

“Do you know this person or is it the first time?”

“I guess you could say... I know them.”

Doyoung laughed nervously.

Once he purchased the flowers, he happily walked to your shared complex and up to his unit where he made sure he looked okay, grabbed everything he needed, and then stepped outside.

This was it. 

He was going to see you for the first time. Finally he would be able to put a face to all of those cute sticky notes.

His legs were shaking as he walked downstairs to your floor and he almost dropped the flowers. Taking a deep breath, he walked up to your door and carefully knocked.

As soon as you heard those knocks, you jumped up and ran to the door. Then you waited a few seconds, not wanting to make it seem as though you were desperately waiting for him (even though you kind of were). 

Clearing your throat and standing up straight, you slowly opened the door.

You were kind of freaking out. Only kind of. Just a little bit.

This man had showed up to your doorstep with flowers in his hands. Your crush. Doyoung. Was at your door. With flowers in his hands.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Doyoung said, holding out the flowers to you.

“Nice... to meet you too. I’m [y/n],” you said, taking the flowers from him.

Doyoung nervously rubbed his palms against his thighs, looking around.

“I always wondered how you knew my name but I didn’t know yours,” he said with a laugh.

“Ah, we work in the same building! I’ve seen you with your ID card around your neck-”

Oh no. Did you just sound like a creep? 

You covered your mouth and quietly apologized, but Doyoung shook his head and grinned.

“Don’t apologize, I’m upset I didn’t notice you sooner! We work in the same company and I didn’t know? How disappointing... I’m glad I know now, though.”

Your heart melted more with each second that he was smiling. At you.

The two of you stood there quietly for a few moments, avoiding eye contact until Doyoung asked you what your plans for the day were.

“Hm? Oh! I’m sorry, I completely forgot. I was thinking we could go to a café, would that be okay?” you asked. Doyoung nodded.

“Let me put these flowers in my house so they won’t get ruined, give me one second,” you told him, quickly rushing inside to place them on your coffee table before rushing back.

“Let’s go!” Doyoung said cheerfully, letting you lead the way.

“It’s only a five-minute walk, so it shouldn’t be too far!” you said, walking down the steps to the main street.

“That sounds good! It’s nice to get some fresh air sinceI’m usually indoors,” Doyoung says.

“Same.”

“Right, since we both work in the office,” Doyoung said with a quiet laugh.

As you approached the café, you started to feel less and less nervous. Doyoung was able to keep the conversation flowing naturally, despite him also being anxious that he might mess things up. You learned that he was actually a person who liked liked to sleep in all the time but after being late to work several times and being scolded for it, he decided to set up a strict schedule for himself.

“Ah, here’s the café!” you said, pointing to the bright yellow and blue building.

“Wow, it’s so colourful,” Doyoung exclaimed, holding the door open for you.

When you stepped inside, the place was buzzing with people. It seemed like you’d found a hot spot.

“So do you always know where the good places are?” Doyoung asked, walking to the bright pink, glittery counter with you.

“No, I just happened to find this place!” you admitted.

Doyoung ordered a caramel coffee, which was apparently his favourite, with a mango dessert. After you also ordered, you found a cozy spot back in the corner of the café which wasn’t as loud.

The two of you talked for two hours there and time flew by. You learned about Doyoung’s love for singing, and as he practically serenaded you in that corner, you melted just like the whipped topping of your drink.

As he walked you home, Doyoung felt himself itching to hold your hand. It had only been the first date, but the two of you had clicked so well. He held himself back though, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. 

Once he had safely dropped you off at your unit, he practically flew up the steps with how giddy he was feeling. He decided that he would walk with you to work from now on, share his lunch breaks with you and get to know you better. Maybe you’d even join him on his weekend runs?

[slightlymore]

what am I now?

for @notnctu’s collab “beginnings”. thank you again for letting me participate in this and I’ll miss you so fucking much :((((

real estate agent doyoung x fem reader

genre: romantic comedy, +18

warnings: few istances of doyoung smoking, he also punches someone lol, mutual pining, explicit sexual content [a lot of teasing and sexual frustration, dirty talk, solo m and f, orgasm control and denial both, overstimulation both, oral f, unprotected)

other characters mentioned: kun (sorry baby)

words: 10.6k 

---READ PART 2 HERE---

______

Hunting for an apartment sounded very fun in theory: a cute adventure in the big city on your own, staring at nice places and imagining how you'd decorate them.

You were a sucker for interior design and you were ashamed to confess that you spent more time on The Sims than with real people having a conversation. 

But hunting for an apartment was not fun at all in reality. 

After the fourth place you’ve seen in a row, either ugly or far too expensive for what they were offering, feet hurting like hell as you had to walk around in the snow, you finally decided to get help from an agency. 

You searched for the best-reviewed ones for days, deciding that money was not really an issue if they could help you find a place with windows towards the south so you wouldn’t cry that your apartment was dark as hell at 2 pm. 

While doing so, you saw the best little place on some fancy-ass looking agency website. It looked so perfect that you got sudden tears in your eyes. 

“And what’s your partner’s name?” 

You were biting your nails, sitting on your old kitchen chairs in the dirty apartment you had to escape from. 

The monotonous voice that answered the call went by the name of Kun. 

“My partner’s name?” you straightened your back. 

With the corner of your eyes, you saw your reflection in the sticky oven at your right and you patted your head to make sure your hair was alright as if the dude could actually see you. 

“Like my- my lover?” you asked again. 

“Yes, ma’am. Boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife, lover, partner-”

“Yeah, okay, okay, alright,” you interrupted him. “Why do you need this information?” 

The dude sighed. “Are you aware that this offer is for couples, ma’am?” 

Your eye twitched at his insistence on calling you ma’am. “Sorry, I was actually not.” 

“So, you’re single,” he asked precisely. 

“Yes,” you almost whispered, feeling more of a loser than usual. 

Monotonous Kun sighed. “It is a special price for Valentine’s Day and-” he started to recite. While he was talking you squinted at the computer and read the minuscule description under the apartment information you unfortunately missed.

“Great, thank you anyways,” you let him finish before bidding goodbye since you were no Karen. 

You sighed and closed your eyes. 

Since when did real estate have special prices for Valentine’s Day?

As you threw yourself back on the chair and silently screamed, wobbling all of your limbs around, the doorbell interrupted your dramatic scene. You kicked the empty card boxes you took from the grocery stores, since spending money for those seemed too much for you and reached the musty uncleanable front door. 

“Good evening, dear,” you opened to see the face of your neighbours across the street. 

They were an old couple, always on the balcony minding other people’s business and always in the mood to pick a fight. 

“Just popping in to say that, first of all, you’re very beautiful,” the woman smiled fakely and you returned the same vibe by thanking her, your brain already fuming while trying to understand what the issue was that time, “but my husband can see your nipples through your pyjama top when you’re in the kitchen. I think you would agree that it is highly inappropriate.” 

You felt one vein pulsing on your left temple.

“To watch young women do their thing in their own house through the windows? Yes, it is highly inappropriate. Good talk.” 

The lady furrowed her eyebrows at your remark and opened her mouth to add something you couldn’t hear over the door slamming. 

You had to get out of that place as soon as possible. 

___

It was a few days after Valentine’s Day and the apartment was still on the website. 

It drove you mad that you couldn’t have access to it for no real reason so you decided to creepily check the agency out.

The first day you walked around it, your beanie low to cover your features and sunglasses when there was not a single ray of sun out. You noticed a few distinguished people going in and out of the glass door and you wondered which of them was Kun. Some people whispered past you as you kept trying to see inside, so you chickened out and went home. 

The second day you were tempted to dress as a man and go talk to some agent, the thought of not having any other possibility afterwards if they refused you while looking like yourself, giving you the courage to be stupid. 

But you didn't. The beard you drew on was horrible and you couldn’t possibly buy the house if they accepted to sell, as no bearded guy was on your documents. 

So you did the next best thing. 

There were all men inside of that satanic place and although not everyone possibly liked women, a fair share of them did. Ignoring the cold, you put on the sexiest dress you had in your closet, some high boots and finally tried out that eyeliner look you saw on TikTok. With a few drops of perfume, you felt irresistible in your soft coat and if they didn’t want to give you the apartment because you were single, at least a few of them would definitely try and date you. 

“No.” 

You felt your chin tremble. 

“What do you mean, no?” 

The man, who unfortunately was still Monotonous Kun you talked to on the phone, sighed. 

“I’m so sorry, ma’am. The price offer is for couples. If you’re that interested, we can sell it to you. But for its full price.” 

“But I don’t have all of that money," you let out a tiny whine. 

Kun smiled politely and you sensed he wanted you out of his office. 

“Then please check out our other options.” 

You closed your mouth because if you opened it you were afraid you’d start to sob. 

“And if I bring my boyfriend in?” you finally asked quietly after a few moments. 

The man sighed again. “Then we can do something.” 

He knew you had no damn boyfriend. 

You inhaled and exhaled deeply and got up from the office chair Kun offered. 

“Then, I’ll come back as soon as possible,” you announced, putting maybe a bit too much fierceness in those words as it sounded like a warning. 

Kun opened his mouth to say something but no sound escaped it as you turned around and felt a literal wall hit you straight in the face. 

Your pained whine reverberated in the whole agency and you almost cried on the spot. 

"Oh. That must have hurt," the Wall talked and you took a little step back, hands quick to cover your forehead with another whimper. Behind the tears veiling your pupils you noticed a face. And some eyes too, a nose, oh, and definitely lips that smiled. 

At you, because you were a clown. 

"Oh! Here you are!" you exclaimed, not missing a beat. 

The smile died a bit in confusion but the eyes got brighter in curiosity. 

You turned around and grabbed that person's hand, pulling them roughly towards you. 

Kun furrowed his eyebrows at you both, arms crossed on his chest. 

"What does this mean?" he asked, not looking at you but at the person you basically just kidnapped.

"This is my partner,” you explained. “We're a couple. Means I can have access to the place for its special price," you lifted your chin bravely. “I wasn’t sure he could come in after work today.” You cleared your voice and fought the urge to roll some hair on your index finger. 

Kun turned his head slightly to face you, then again towards the dude whose hand you were nervously holding. His fingers were relaxed as they were intertwined with yours, though, and you thanked god he didn't freak out on the spot.

"Sorry Kun, I should have told you that my girlfriend would come today," the Wall said. 

"Why do you even need me for an apartment though? Do it yourself," Kun replied. You turned towards the kidnapped dude to fully take in the view and he giggled. 

Your shocked eyes fell on his chest where neatly and quite visible was a bright silver tag: Real estate agent Kim Doyoung, it said. 

___

Kim Doyoung’s office was just as clean as the other agent’s one and you wondered what kind of perfectionist freaks they hired. 

“Alright. I guess I’m sorry,” you mumbled all of a sudden after sitting down in front of his desk. Doyoung was still walking around it when he laughed. 

“You guess?” He opened the black blazer’s button and tugged his dress pants a bit higher on the thighs to sit more comfortably. 

He was a very good looking young man. His clothes looked high quality, his wristwatch seemed expensive as fuck and his hair was so neat you fought the urge to lean in and ruffle it for him. 

“Well, I’m not really,” you crossed your legs and arms. “Are you mad though?” 

Doyoung took in your body language for a moment and shook his head. His feline eyes twinkled with amusement. “It was the highlight of my week.” 

“What funnier thing happened to you last week then?” 

“Okay, fair,” he replied with an eyebrow movement, fingers already very quick to tap on his computer keyboard. 

“Also thank you,” you added in a different tone. “For not kicking me out of the building.” 

The man smiled at the screen, then with one last click, he looked at you. “I would never kick someone out."

“Yes. You do look like a good man-” 

“Because everyone is a potential customer I could sell to.” 

“-ah.” 

You leaned back in your chair. Then you sighed. 

“So, you wanted the couple's apartment?” Doyoung asked. 

“Yes.” 

“For the discounted price.” 

“Yes.”

“I can give you some other options," he tried. 

You rolled your eyes, ready to have the same experience you had with Kun. Now that his colleague thought you two were dating, you wouldn’t just go on the street and ask a random person to act as your partner as you planned. 

“Or we can pretend we’re dating like in the movies - so I get the place.”

Doyoung’s lips moved as if trying hard to suppress a smile. His index finger slowly pushed his glasses on the nose.

“That would be against our rules,” he specified in a neutral, obvious tone. 

“I mean, and if I walk in with a random dude in 5 minutes? Are you not going to give me the place?” you uncrossed your legs and leaned in. Your voice got deeper as if sharing a secret. You hoped your eyes were seductive enough. 

The man put his tongue inside the cheek for a second. 

“I wouldn’t trust you anymore, no.”

You scoffed. “I mean, no one can prove you anything though. What if two friends walk in pretending to be a couple?” 

“It hasn’t happened yet.” 

“Right. Because that apartment was waiting for me,” you indicated your face with one finger. “It’s fate.”

Doyoung moved ever so slightly in his office chair from side to side. The wheels on it were the only sound in the room as he pondered. 

“But first of all,” he professionally intertwined his fingers on the desk. His eyes darted from your hair to your dress, to your nails and bag that was resting on your knees. You thought he would have looked under the desk to look at your shoes as well if it wouldn’t have been rude. 

“Even if I sell it to you for a discounted price, how do you intend to pay?”

You secretly bit your inner cheeks. “I have almost all of it already. The couple's price. Not the original price.” 

He nodded, pensive. 

“What contract do you have?” 

You felt your throat itchy. “Self-employed?”

“What do you do? You have a business?”

“Uh, do I have to say?” 

Doyoung was already fumbling to find the right papers for you to sign, so he stopped at your hesitation.

“I’m obliged by law to not share any personal information. You can be honest. All I care about is that you have enough money.” 

His careless attitude should have helped you, but it made you even more nervous. 

“Do you have an OnlyFans?” he then asked nonchalantly, thinking he was actually helping. 

You were mortified. 

“Do I look like someone who could have an OnlyFans?” 

Doyoung blinked once before taking in the view of your body again with the corner of his eyes. For the first time, he seemed to waver in his confidence. If he said yes, it would have been rude. If he said no, it would also have been rude. 

“I mean, everyone can have one. There are no specific requirements. There are so many things one can do. Classic stuff, feet, armpits-” he went on in a casual tone. 

“I’m a writer. I write stuff,” you spurted before it could get too weird. Your hands on the bag handle fidgeted. 

“Oh,” he relaxed, placing the papers in front of you. “What do you write? Novels? Sorry, maybe you’re even famous but unfortunately, I don’t read much.” 

“Erotica.” 

Doyoung’s nostrils flared. It was going to be a long day. 

____

“Had no idea erotica was so popular,” Doyoung commented. 

You were driving towards the couple's apartment. 

“We’re just going to take a look. There are other nice places I want you to see as well.”

You shrugged, signing your contract with him. He did seem a bit nicer than Kun and perhaps, perhaps, if you worked hard enough, you could even reach the original price. This, if no one snatched it before you. 

“You take 10%? From the whole price?” you almost yelled, reading all of the clauses. 

Doyoung bit his lower lip as if a bit embarrassed. “It’s our policy,” he explained, hands a bit fidgety on his glass desk. 

“Yet your knowledge on porn is pristine,” you commented. 

He inhaled as if about to argue then changed his mind. “Touché.” 

It was a nice day driving through the city. You didn’t have enough money to invest in a car but Doyoung obviously had a very luxurious one. The warm air conditioning felt like an angel’s touch and the seats were more comfortable than your own bed.

“I use it for work too,” he explained, looking at you briefly before gazing at the road again. 

“Why? Do I look like I’m judging you right now?” 

He smiled. “Yes.”

“Well, if you get 10% from each deal…,” you drifted off. 

Doyoung opened his mouth and you interrupted. “Yeah, I know, I know. I only get a small percentage of the 10% because some of it goes to the agency and some of it goes to pay the OnlyFans of all of my favourite people,” you imitated his tone. 

He nodded for the first part and stopped for the second with an amused frown. 

“No. But I would have subscribed to you.”

You turned your head towards him with a snap. “Uhm, unprofessional much?” 

“You literally asked me to fake date you so I could sell you the apartment."

“And that’s a good fucking idea!" 

“In that case, I should sign the contract too. I don’t want to buy an apartment. That’s insane."

"So what? The money still goes to you and the agency. Who cares if we fuck in it or not? Do you not trust me?" 

Doyoung's lips opened after a quick smile. "Honestly?" 

"No. Don't be honest. It's okay," you stopped him. 

"I'll sell it to you."

"Really?" 

He nodded. 

“Really? For the couple’s price?” 

Doyoung sighed as if about to enter a lion’s cave. “Yes.” 

You screamed, leaning in and wrapping his neck with your arms. You were about to leave a big red smooch on his cheek as well when he lightly drifted to the left, losing control of the wheel at your sudden movement, and the gravity pushed you back into your seat instead. 

He cleared his throat and you hoped he didn’t change his mind. 

____

Your high heels clicking on the wooden floors made you cringe. 

Doyoung waited in the corridor in silence, letting you take in the view of the apartment before he could start giving you any information about it.

You inhaled and looked at his hands, absentmindedly playing with the key and thought how nice it would be if he just handed it to you. He had very nice hands, you noticed. And body. 

You looked away. 

“Any neighbours?” you finally asked. 

The apartment was pristine. Absolutely everything you’ve ever wanted. So beautiful you just wanted to grab his necktie and drag him back to the agency to go through with the deed. And kiss him on the mouth for being a saviour. 

“Only one on the left. A young man. Works in a bank."

“Oh!” you raised your eyebrows as you slowly made rounds in the rooms. “Sounds very promising.” 

Doyoung didn’t comment on that. 

“The heating is autonomous. You also have an autonomous water meter so you pay what you use.” 

You nodded. “Great. How much for the condo a month?” 

Doyoung took out his papers and started to read them to you. You listened to his voice as, hands loosely clasped together behind your back, you let yourself finally dream. 

New apartment for a discounted price and a hot rich neighbour you could have a fun and sexy adventure? You felt the luckiest Y/N in a fanfiction in the world. 

_____

“What do you mean the apartment is sold?”

Doyoung sighed into the phone before he could repeat with a heavy tone. “A couple bought it from Kun.” 

You were packing the last of your boxes. The documents should have been ready that day. The money you borrowed from the bank felt heavy in your account and you couldn’t actually wait to get those damn keys from Doyoung’s sexy hands the day after. 

With a giggle, as if still in high school, you were drawing stupid hearts with the marker on the cardboard near “kitchenware” when he called to drop the bomb. 

He had the decency to sound sorry and it drove you even madder. 

“And you just let him? You know how much I wanted that place!” 

“Y/N, listen-,” he tried to speak but your head was light with the amount of blood that shot to it. 

“No, you listen to me. I waste my time doing stuff the way you said to do and now there’s so little time for me to empty my own apartment and there’s nowhere for me to go because it's not like I was looking for other apartments while I know I already have my own!”

"I'll help you find something else."

"I don't want your help. Enjoy the money you got from me that gave me nothing in return!”

You heard your name called once before you ended the call and threw the phone on your nude mattress laying in the middle of the apartment. 

_____

Doyoung called many times that evening although you wouldn’t know since you turned off your phone. 

The loud bang on Kun’s desk attracted many eyes when Doyoung heard the news and barged into his colleague's office. 

“You’re behaving like a madman. What’s the matter with you?” the other tried to keep calm, eyeing Doyoung's wide palms pressed on the glass. 

The latter’s eyes were two tiny cracks under his now unstyled fringe. “I was working with that apartment. And you knew. I had a client that had to finish paperwork tomorrow and it was sold."

Kun sighed and relaxed in his chair.

“Yeah. That client. You wanted to sell it for the discounted price. I know you're not dating."

Doyoung retrieved his hands from the desk and slowly adjusted his posture. 

“And?” 

“I sold it for a very good price instead. They actually paid more than the original not discounted price for that. They wanted it that badly. If your cute short-dress-and-fuck-me-eyes client wanted it that bad, instead of sucking your dick or whatever she had to do to make you decide on selling it to her, she could have just offered mor-”

Unfortunately, Kun couldn’t finish that phrase as his head abruptly turned to the side thanks to Doyoung’s fist. 

_____

He knew he had no reason to do that. But for fuck’s sake, everyone was driving Jeeps and Land Rovers in that place. No one would have missed the tiny little money you couldn’t provide for that apartment. 

“I wanted to let you off more but Kun was kind enough to calm me down,” said the Director, a short and far from intimidating man against Doyoung’s office glass door.

Everything in that place was made of glass and it drove him insane. 

The old man took a napkin from his pocket and tapped against his sweaty forehead, his breath so loud that Doyoung felt the need to punch him as well. 

He didn’t bother to look up from the box he was filling with his stuff and didn't reply. 

“Honestly, my boy, you’ve been incredible all of these years so it breaks my heart to see you take this pause-” 

“I’m not coming back.” 

The man coughed once and Doyoung sighed, hands on the hips, looking around to see what else he should take home with him. 

“What do you mean you’re not coming back?” The director took a few alarmed steps inside the office and Doyoung hoped he didn’t want to grab his hands and beg. 

“Consider these two pausing weeks, as Kun kindly suggested, as my two weeks' notice.” 

“What are you going to do now?” 

Doyoung wore his jacket and the man’s shocked eyes followed him around as he grabbed the box and walked the distance from the desk to the door. 

“I don’t know,” Doyoung shrugged. “I think porn.” 

_____

When the doorbell rang that night you were ready to grab your neighbour’s head and smash it on the wall. 

“My nipples are out, yes, but I don’t care! Just don’t fucking look at me!” you yelled into the person’s face. 

Doyoung’s mouth was open and his eyes inevitably darted towards your white t-shirt.

“They’re not completely out though,” he replied with a tiny voice. 

You felt your face scrunch in a mad but surprised expression. 

“And you? What the fuck do you want?” 

“Brought you the money,” Doyoung simply replied. 

You looked down at his hands where the envelope containing the down payment looked back at you. His right hand’s knuckles were bruised and he was quick to pass the envelope in his left hand and put the other in his pants pocket. Then you noticed how he was dressed. 

You tried not to take a step back in shock. 

Grey sweatpants and converse? If he weren’t such a piece of shit it would have turned you on. 

“I thought those were lost money.”

“They’re not. If I sell you the house then this money is taken away from the total and if I don’t, for my fault or the agencies’ fault, this money is yours. You don’t pay anything.” 

You sighed. Seeing his dishevelled hair and college boy appearance softened your anger towards him and it irritated you. 

“And if I want to see other places? Can you keep it and use it as a down payment for one of those?” 

Doyoung’s eyes twinkled in surprise. He probably thought you didn’t want him to work for you anymore. 

“Just keep it and give it to an agent then.”

You bit your lower lip and leaned on the door. “You don’t want to do this anymore? I know I was mad at you over the phone but I really need a house very quickly and I don’t have time to search for another agent.” 

“I’m not an agent anymore,” Doyoung said. 

You blinked at him then grabbed his forearm, dragging him inside. 

“And what are you now? What the fuck did you do?” 

“I quit,” he replied, eyeing your full packed apartment. 

“Why?” you walked around him after closing the door and searched for a stool for him to sit on. 

“Oh, it’s not about you.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not that self-centred.”

“Seriously. I’ve always wanted to quit that hell place,” he accepted the small stool and looked up at you after sitting down. 

He looked so tiny on it that you were dumbfounded at the situation. 

“What did you do to the hand?” you walked over and grabbed it. He hesitated as if wanting to retrieve it. 

“I've always wanted to punch the shit out of that dude too,” he mumbled. 

You scoffed incredulously. “Wait here.” 

Crouching down near the bathroom door, you opened a box and looked for something. 

“A man is looking towards your window right now,” Doyoung said, eyes fixed on something outside of it. 

“Yeah. It’s the creepy neighbour.” 

“The one obsessed with your nipples?” 

“Yeah,” you finally found what you were looking for and came back to face him. 

“Medicate it after I go visit him, would you? If you do it now, you’ll have to do it twice.” 

He looked up at you from his stool as he said that and he didn’t look tiny anymore. 

“Easy, macho man,” you looked away and concentrated on his hand instead. It felt soft in your palm as you examined his busted knuckles. 

He didn’t flinch as you disinfected the wounds but you blew on them anyway to make it less painful. Doyoung watched your pouty lips as you did so and didn't add anything else for a while. 

“Do you want me to help you out with the bed?” he asked. "I can assemble it back together."

“No, I’m good. I’ll just keep it on the floor.” 

You were both almost whispering from the vicinity. 

“Do you want to spend the night over at my house?” 

You hid the sudden embarrassment with a choked laugh. “How can you ask that so casually?” 

He blinked as if suddenly realizing what he actually said. 

“But would you? I feel bad,” he added. 

“No need to feel bad. You were just doing your job.” 

“Not well enough,” he moved his fingers after you finished medicating, flexing them ever so slightly. 

You walked around the boxes just to realize you didn’t have a trashcan anymore. “So you’re really not an agent now?” 

“I mean, I am. The skills are there. I’m just unemployed for the moment.” 

“What do you plan to do?” 

Doyoung got up and took the cotton from your hands and put it into his pocket. 

“I’ll probably open an agency.” 

“That’s so cool!”

He intertwined his fingers with yours and grabbed the jacket you kept on the hanger near the door. Your apartment was so tiny that Doyoung didn’t have to move much.

Your breath stopped. 

“That fucking asshole is going to drive me insane,” he explained and you turned your head back to see the old man still staring from his balcony. 

“Stay with me until I find you a home,” he made you wear the jacket. 

You wondered if that was a good idea but then relaxed. As he zipped the jacket for you, the butterflies in your stomach made all the previous anger just die. You looked at his expression and wondered what he was thinking about. 

Was he dangerous? He did just punch a man at work. 

Or did he possibly like you? Probably not.

Did he maybe want to fuck you? Okay, no. He was probably the last man to want to fuck you. 

_____

Doyoung had a wicked desire. It was made of your whines and soft pleas, his hand around your throat and your thighs pressing on his ears. When did it all happen? He had no clue. 

He knew you probably didn’t find him attractive at all, especially after the whole apartment fiasco, but he didn’t sleep well for two whole nights after meeting you the first time and letting you go without helping you out at all made him sick to his stomach. 

That night, staring at your cute nape as you looked outside the car window, hands loosely clasped together, eyes wide to take in the view, he felt like hugging you instead of doing whatever nasty things he imagined. 

The used napkins thrown around on the floor of your apartment that probably collected all of your tears after his call, made his heart sting. 

Near your knees he eyed the fortune cookie he had just a few weeks before, the day your face bumped into his chest. 

Change is coming. Don't be afraid. 

Were you the real change that was coming along? Was that a coincidence? Was he doing the wrong thing? He did feel a bit stupid but maybe you just inspired him to do something that he's already wanted to do. 

_____

Waking all of a sudden in a new environment, you almost gasped, looking around and taking in details before remembering where you slept last night.

The car ride was mostly silent and the packing made it easy for you to just grab the bag you prepared to live off for the next few days. If only your dream apartment hasn’t already been sold. 

Meet me for brunch at the café at the corner, the note near your pillow said. 

The thought of Doyoung entering the guest room and seeing you sleep made your guts twirl on themselves. 

When he offered to help you find another apartment the previous night, not really as an agent but with an agent’s skills, you were so tired that you just shrugged. He was giving you a warmer comforter for your bed as he spoke and you grabbed it, not thinking much of the situation. 

Now, face puffy and your hair smelling like his laundry detergent, you tried to force your brain to understand just what that meant. 

"Did you have any water today or do I have to spit into your mouth?" you heard his sweet and slightly breathy voice.

You rolled your eyes after jerking your head up, hiding your flustered expression with the tall glass Doyoung pushed towards you. 

"I did," you replied, but still took a few sips. "Did you?" 

Doyoung sat in front of you at the café table and leaned back in his chair, fingers slowly fumbling with his shirt. He scoffed once, not looking at you, concentrating on rolling up his sleeves. 

He didn’t tell you where he went that morning but his cologne was mixed with a sweeter perfume and you didn’t need much imagination to know that he wasn’t the one to open the first buttons of his dress shirt. You tried to not bit your lower lip in jealousy. 

Others always mistook your kindness for attraction and now there you were, roles reversed - just a dude feeling guilty towards you and you falling for him like a fool. 

"I gather you want to spit into my mouth."

His silver watch shone under the sun as he moved, calling your gaze upon it. 

"Maybe," you mumbled, the flirting suddenly not doing it anymore for you after imagining his neck kissed by some other lips. 

He placed his hands on the table and finally looked at you. 

You exchanged looks for a long silent moment. 

"Do you know what you're supposed to do after buying a new home?" 

"Hm," you pretended to think about it, "knowing you, it's something around the lines of fucking on each surface."

Doyoung smiled. 

“Knowing you. I read some of your books and fucking on every surface is your thing.” 

You choked on your water. The tears pricked your eyes as you coughed and Doyoung actually had the guts to look worried. 

You gently refused his napkin. “You read some of my books? When?”

“Last night. I mean they’re quite short,” he leaned back in his chair again. His foxy expression irritated you. “Very educational.” 

He read your porn while you were sleeping in the room next to his?

The waiter materialized near the table with your coffee and a courteous smile. You jolted, so lost in your thoughts, and Doyoung’s grin widened seeing you so on edge. 

“Thank you,” your voice sounded feeble as the blood made your ears whistle. 

“I especially liked the part in <<lean on me>> where they’re in front of the mirror and she’s getting fingere-”, he talked loudly as if you were having a conversation others could listen but your sudden kick on his shin under the table made him bit his lower lip in silence. 

“Thank you, sir,” Doyoung said instead after a moment with a breathy voice, eyes staring at the way the waiter finished placing the cups on the table. 

“You’re crazy,” you whispered loudly, eyes out of the orbits as soon as the man left you alone again.

Doyoung’s hands were quick to grab the leg you used to tell him to shut up. You inhaled sharply and held onto the table’s edge as if afraid of falling to the side. 

“You’re crazy,” he smiled, his fingers sliding the shoe from your foot and dragging it into his lap. His touch on your bare skin made you gulp.

Perhaps you were crazy, but only for wearing converse in February since all of your other shoes were packed away. 

“My pants are all dirty now. What should we do about it?” he fakely pouted. Was he really flirting with you after fucking some girl before seeing you?

You exhaled and tried to move your leg away.

His grip got tighter.

Your head got light with anxiety. What if someone could see it under the table cloth?

“Doyoung, don’t be stupid.” 

He didn’t reply. 

The gaze you were exchanging for a long minute now just added to the sensation of his palms slowly caressing your ankle. It went up to your calf and then stopped right under the knee. 

“You’re too far away,” his voice got low and for once he actually whispered.

You silently cleared your voice and tried to reply but he cut you off. 

“But if I tell you what I would do, would you be able to imagine it?” 

His lips curved in a teasing smile, moving slowly to ask that question, made you want to just start yelling. 

“Doyoung.” 

You wanted it to be a warning tone, but you could tell that you failed from his delighted expression. 

It was a problem. 

Doyoung was a problem. He was there flirting with you. For what? He was not an agent anymore and you weren't his client. You weren’t his friend. You weren’t someone he liked. Then, what the hell were you? 

“Take me with you.” 

He blinked at the sudden request and his fingers stopped. 

“Where?” 

“I want to come with you to your refresher course.” 

His confused expression made you feel a bit guilty for eavesdropping. “I heard you book it last night.” 

He still didn’t reply. 

“I mean, you want to help me find a house,” you shrugged.

"Yes but-”

"There are rules you have to follow if you’re working for me. Now there's no contract binding us together so you can fully help me out," you explained. 

“Yes, but-”

“I’ll learn something new while being there,” you tried to convince him. 

He sighed and gently let your leg down from his thigh.

“About what?” 

“Real estate.” 

“Real estate,” he was suspicious.

“Real estate-,” you nodded. “-men.”

He rolled his eyes with a scoff and the tongue in his cheek made you secretly sigh. He drove you insane. 

“I’m just trying to find a good real estate agent to sell me a good deal,” you tried to sound nonchalant. 

"Me."

"Uhm, sorry but-," 

"I'll give you an apartment."

"Like gift it to me? Oh my God, Daddy," you chuckled and playfully hit his hand with your fingertips. 

He grabbed them tightly and didn’t let go. 

“Stop joking. I mean it.” 

His serious tone made your smile die.

You sighed again. 

“You don’t have to do all of this only because you feel guilty.” 

Doyoung let go of your hand and leaned back. 

“You think I’m doing all of this only because I feel guilty?”

“The short answer would be yes.” 

“And what’s the long one?” 

“You tell me. Why are you helping me?”

Doyoung looked away. 

“I spoke to a landlord selling privately this morning. She agreed for us to see the apartment whenever we want.” 

You blinked at him. A landlord? So no woman opened his shirt buttons? Or did she?

“We can go tomorrow. On our drive to the course. It’s going to take a few days so I’ll drop you off at your place to pack now. You’ll be able to meet many great men willing to help you out if you don't like the apartment I chose for you.”

_____

The drive was silent that morning too. 

The first rays of spring sun were out and you dared to finally wear a cute floral dress under your raincoat. 

You secretly wanted Doyoung to comment something about it but he barely looked at you. Obviously. 

His expression was hidden behind his sunglasses and for some reason, you felt guilty about something you couldn’t quite point out. 

The place he had to take his course was a few hours away but the apartment he wanted you to see was just a few minutes away from his house.

“You can go in,” he handed you the keys. 

You eyed them in his palm and bit your lower lip. 

“Are you not coming?”

He opened his mouth to reply but you interrupted him. 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be quick.” 

When you found the number of the door you were looking for and opened it, you inhaled deeply and smiled. 

What a place. 

You imagined Doyoung looking for apartments the previous night instead of sleeping and your heart felt tight. You imagined him taking notes and well, reading your dirty books. 

Walking around slowly, head full of questions, you looked down the low window in the living room. It was almost touching the floor, wide enough to take the whole wall and it made you laugh that an apartment could look this way. It was a short window though, so you knelt on the cold floor to be able to see outside. 

"Hey," you giggled.

Doyoung was resting with his hips on the side of the car, the cigarette he was smoking making it difficult to see his face.

He looked up when he heard your voice and saw your head poking through after a moment of searching. His lips let go of the cigarette and he blew the smoke out.

"Is that a window?" he asked, calm but slightly surprised.

"Yeah. Isn't it cool? I love it!" you giggled again. “Do you want to see? Please come."

Your expression made him sigh, gaze on the pavement as he threw the butt on the concrete.

"Doyoung! Don't litter around!"

The young man smiled a bit, loving the way you would yell at him. It made his hands tingle with the desire to grab your face and taste your lips.

"I'm coming up," he announced, ignoring your orders. 

The window arrived at his collarbones and when he placed his palms on the edge of it you slid back on your knees to give him space.

"You couldn't have used the door like a normal person, could you?"

Doyoung grunted once and lifted himself up, slithering inside the apartment through the tight window until resting on his stomach, feet still dangling outside.

You grabbed his jacket and pulled it towards you with a chuckle.

"Come on," you tried again but he was dead meat.

"Don't be stupid!"

"Impossible," he mumbled and you were ready to leave him there before he moved towards you in a single movement, letting his shoes click on the tiles and pressing his face into your stomach.

It took you a few moments to realize that you were touching each other. 

And the way you were doing it. 

You were sustaining yourself on your elbows, legs spread for Doyoung to bury his face into your stomach. He was warm, especially his breath on your dress, but his palms felt cool on your thighs. He was hugging your legs, shoulders rising and falling at a steady pace as if he suddenly fell asleep.

"Doyoung," you wanted to call out, say his name, but your throat was dry. Instead, you lifted your bust a bit but not enough to make him move his head away. It had nowhere to go besides up or down and you didn't know which one was making you feel hotter.

A single sigh escaped your mouth as you looked around the room, as if unable to stare at your new particular friend's nape any longer.

The rumble of the cars right down the street sounded far away and Doyoung's deep voice felt so loud that your head snapped down.

He was staring at you, eyes piercing under his ruffled black hair and his breath, caressing places that gave you goosebumps, made you tighten your legs a bit in embarrassment.

"The lights are great," he had to repeat himself, your empty expression giving away that you were thinking about anything besides what he was saying.

"Yeah."

"And it's a weird apartment. I know you like weird things so this is perfect. Do you like it?" 

"I like weird things?" you wondered where that came from. 

"You like me," he replied as if it were a normal explanation.

The look you exchanged made you gulp and your first instinct was to laugh it out. 

Of course, you liked him. You liked to be around him. As friends. As a human. 

But you also liked the way his thumbs started to circle the softest part of your thigh. They were moving up ever so lightly, taking the edge of your short dress with them. Not like friends and not like a mere human. 

You weren't naive. You expected at least a kiss any time soon. In a day, a week or a month, if you ended up still talking by then. 

You were still two grown-up adults and even if he didn’t like you the way you ended up feeling about him, something was bound to happen with all that flirting going on.

But you didn't expect that first kiss to be somewhere else other than the lips. 

It was slow and sensual. Doyoung's eyes were closed as if savouring it - he kissed your thigh, so close to your underwear line to make you jolt. 

Then he kissed you again, another open mouth kiss, this time going upwards. 

Then another one as he shifted ever so slightly, getting more comfortable on his stomach. 

You didn't dare to say anything. You were mute, letting your increasing breath do all the conversation. 

And when he reached the little white bow on your panties, kissing the skin right above it, your hand flew to his hair. Your fingers slowly slid between his locks. His hair was curly that day and it made him look wickedly angelic as his gaze caressed your expression. 

"Tighter," he smiled, lips still brushing your skin, teasing you until giving your whole body goosebumps. 

You pulled a bit and he winced. 

"Sorry," you let his hair go quickly and he chuckled, taking your wrist and placing a kiss on your pulse. 

"No. I like it rough."

Your heart was pumping hard inside your throat, watching his plush and pink lips press on your fingers. What did all of that mean?

"Doyoung," you whispered, watching him intertwining his fingers with yours. 

"I'm going to make you cum in a more comfortable place," he said with a light tone. 

He lifted his bust and he let out a short laugh at your overwhelmed expression.

"Come. Let's see the apartment." He got on his knees then he stood up, pulling you by the hand. 

His other one patted your butt a few times to get rid of any dust and he dragged your dress down.

Kiss me? Kiss me. Kiss me, please. 

He didn't.

_____

You were in bed when the light sound of the hotel room’s door opening announced Doyoung’s return. 

He didn’t question why you still wanted to go with him to the course even if you already liked the apartment he showed you. And you hoped he didn’t inquire too much either. 

“I’ll think about it. I’m still coming with you though,” has been the final verdict and Doyoung didn’t comment. 

Why? You had no idea. But the thought of suddenly not seeing him anymore after he was done with helping you out to get rid of his guilt was unbearable. 

“Hey,” you placed the book you were reading face down on your chest. 

“Gathering information on the competition?” he asked as a greeting, eyeing the spicy cover. 

“Oh, it’s just a random novel.” 

That had the one bed trope since, well, you were in that same situation and you had to refresh your memory on what to do next. 

Doyoung took off his blazer and put it on the back of a chair in silence. His back looked wide as he turned it to you and your eyes naturally fell on his spine as well, going down to meet his waist. Your fingers tightened their hold on the book and when he turned sideways to take off the belt you felt your mouth dry. The black leather belt slid quickly out of the loops and just as quickly he unbuttoned his sleeves. 

“You might as well start taking notes,” he said with an amused tone, eyes focused on his left wrist before he could look up at you. “For your next book.”

You looked away just as quickly but you noticed the glint of mischief in his gaze.

Doyoung walked towards the bed until reaching the nightstand on his side of the bed and with expert fingers, he opened the buckle of his watch with a metallic sound and slid it up then off his wrist. 

His movements were hypnotizing and this time you couldn’t look away. 

Doyoung sat down on the bed and slowly took off his rings. They all went near his watch, one by one. 

If he felt the bed move as you got out of the covers and crawled towards him, he pretended he didn’t. 

You stopped on your knees behind his back and delicately traced his necklace with your fingers. The clasp was easy to open but you pretended to have a hard time. 

Doyoung didn’t look bothered and patiently waited for you. 

His breath looked steady by the movement of his shoulders. 

Yours was all over the place. 

When the necklace slithered on his collarbones like water, he gathered it in his palm and placed it neatly on the side.

“Thank you,” his voice was warm. “I’m taking a shower,” he announced before getting up in a light swoosh of cologne. 

_____

Too much. 

You abandoned yourself on the bed like a rich lady in a Victorian novel, the back of one hand thrown on your forehead and said forehead hurting like a bitch from sexual frustration. 

No, you weren’t about to masturbate in a shared hotel room while someone else was in the shower. 

Someone that looked like the wettest dream you’ve ever had in your whole life and it drove you insane how composed he looked around you?

No. 

Yes?

No. 

You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath. 

You could just go out and take a walk, maybe visit the hotel gym and pretend you like working out. Or maybe watch something. Wait, where was your book again? Did you even know how to read? Because you felt pretty illiterate at that moment. 

The running water worked as nice white background noise and you could barely hear the bed sheets rustling as you shifted underneath them. 

Your breath was shaky when you inhaled silently, your right hand teasing at your thighs as if it wasn't yours. Then your fingers gently slid under the cotton of your panties until you gasped, back arched and head pushed back into the pillow. 

You swallowed and listened to your own panting. The shower kept running so you felt safe proceeding. 

Your mind was already so hazy that for a moment the only thing you could think of was how insanely wet you were. Your slick fingers made you bite your lower lips as you flicked your clit slowly, then as your toes curled, quicker and quicker. It got so hot so fast that with a rough movement you threw the covers on the side. 

Then the bathroom door closing with a soft thud made you jolt and you opened your eyes in panic. Doyoung’s eyes weren’t panicked though. 

"Sorry, I interrupted,” he said with a calm tone. 

All the blood in your body went to your face and you thought you'd pass out from embarrassment. You grabbed the covers and rolled in them like a burrito with a loud whine.

"Shit," you mouthed. 

Doyoung chuckled, walking towards the centre of the room towards his luggage. 

And then you noticed. 

Wet black hair on his forehead, hand pushing it back, absolutely nothing on his body beside a towel. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you thought. Or said. No. You definitely said because Doyoung smirked. 

You couldn't breathe and the covers were slowly sliding away from your body as you recomposed yourself. 

He let his clothes hang on the back of the chair and you watched his back as he walked towards the table in front of the bed and served himself a glass of water. He brought it to his lips, and your gaze could not stop from wondering which place on his neck you should leave a hickey. A few drops collected in his collarbones from the wet hair and then they slid down his pecs as he moved, resting his hips on the table. 

Then he blinked languidly, taking in the view of your overwhelmed face. 

"Take them off," he ordered. 

Fuck. 

You knew he meant your underwear. 

Wait. Really? 

You gulped and looked down to your thighs. 

"Lean with the back on the bed frame."

You inhaled and shifted backwards until feeling the wood on your blades. 

"Now take them off," he repeated.

You felt like saying something. But you had no idea what to say. 

With shaky hands, you slowly hooked your thumbs on the sides and slowly slid the fabric off your legs.Then with a quick movement, you closed your legs and he smiled. 

"Good girl."

You closed your eyes to not see him but hearing only his voice was even worse. 

The tiny whine escaping your throat at the praise felt very loud in the silent room and Doyoung chuckled softly. 

"You want to touch yourself so badly, don't you?" 

"Yeah," you quickly breathed out, opening your eyes in time to see his gaze dancing on your body. 

"Open your legs for me."

Like a puppet, your limbs moved just as he requested and the raspy “fuck” you heard was almost enough to throw you over the edge. 

"Keep the shirt on," he instructed. "Touch your body, start from your neck and go down."

You bit your lower lip and slowly complied, caressing your throat then collarbones, going over the cotton of the shirt to grab your breast and squeeze. The soft moan on your lips travelled to Doyoung's head and he tightened the hold of his fingers on the table. Then your hands went on your stomach and as you held in your breath, a single "no" froze you. 

"Caress your thighs," he instructed.

Your body contracted and you decided to lock eyes with him. Your breath was heavy and your hand hovered over your needy clit and touched the softness of your legs instead. 

Doyoung was visibly hard in his white fluffy towel and it was driving you insane. 

"Please," you gulped, the saliva in your mouth making you almost choke. 

He took a step towards you and you inhaled sharply. His eyes were deep and dark under the wet strands of hair and you desperately needed to feel how cool his lips would be on your hot body. 

“Just drop the fucking towel,” your voice sounded strained. 

Doyoung smiled and slowly let his veiny hand palm his covered cock. You bit your lower lip at the sight and the wet hot mess between your legs just got worse. 

“You’re going to touch yourself for me, alright baby?” he cooed, his low whisper making you clench. 

You nodded desperate, amusing him far too much for your liking. 

“Show me how you do it when you think of me,” his husky voice ordered and your hand has never moved quicker. "You think of me a lot, don't you?" 

Your fingertips felt how hot and wet you were and you inhaled sharply, spreading all of that slick and rubbing your clit for him to see. 

You nodded. 

Doyoung hummed pleased, his own hand lazily palming himself at the sight. Your already irregular breathing became fast panting and your toes curled. Your hips rutted upwards as your back curved, your whole body sliding on the sheets to fully rest on the bed. You've never been watched and it was driving you insane. The pillow engulfed the side of your face you pushed into it as Doyoung ordered something else. 

“Insert a finger for me, babe.” 

“Fuck,” you moaned at his tone, your middle finger already eager to feel yourself. It slid so easily that you actually gasped from surprise, your feet abandoning the bed as you pushed your knees up. The new view made Doyoung swear and you thought you’d add to it by sliding your other hand down to rub at your clit at the same time. 

“You’re such a good girl, putting on a show for me,” you felt his touch on your ankle and you felt electric. “Another one.” 

You locked eyes as you inserted your ring finger as well and you loved how his tongue licked his lower lip and shifted his gaze to your core. 

Usually, you could reach your g spot once every full moon and you thought that day wasn’t one of them. The desperation made your forehead shine with a thin layer of sweat as your lips mumbled incessant pleas. And then your fingertip grazed something inside of you that made you roll your eyes so hard that you almost convulsed. 

“That’s right,” Doyoung cooed with a very heavy breath and between your lashes you could see him spit in his palm and slowly pump his cock. The view drove you crazy and the wet sound he added on top of your own was enough to make you cum.

“I’m about-” you mumbled. 

“Yeah? I’ll count it for you, alright babe? You’re going to cum when I say one.”

You nodded frantically, your hands almost getting cramps by how fast you chased your orgasm. 

“Good. Now, listen to my voice,” he said. “Ten.” 

“Fuck,” you pushed your head back into the pillow, the burning inside your veins urging you to just cum in that instant. 

“Nine.” 

You whined loudly, chest rising and falling and head already spinning. 

“Eight. Don’t cum yet baby. You want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?” Doyoung’s sweet tone made you grit your teeth. 

“Seven. Say it.” 

“I-,” you choked, “I want to be a good girl for you.” 

Doyoung exhaled, his cock looking absolutely delicious poking out of his fist almost as fast as your fingers were pumping inside of you. 

“Six,” his voice trembled and the view of him pleasuring himself in front of you,  his head thrown slightly to the side, his neck and collarbones so nicely on display, made your legs tremble with desire. 

“Five. Keep going,” he smiled through his panting and you begged him. 

“Please, please, Doyoung, faster?” 

He chuckled. 

“You want to cum so badly? Yeah?” 

“Yeah, please-” your body twitched. You’ve never felt that kind of buildup and it was driving you insane. 

“Four. Good girl.” 

You kept going, your body shifting back and forth in front of his eyes. 

“Three-” his tone lifted and you moaned, then his voice deadpanned. “Stop.” 

Your eyes shot open and your hands stilled, making your body shake so much that the bed frame hit the wall repeatedly.

“Fuck fuck Doyoung please-” you begged, unable to think anything besides how badly you wanted to cum.

He chuckled at your state, his own hand still around his cock, lips open to let his heavy breath exit as if after a strenuous run. 

“Hands above your head,” he ordered and you felt tears prickle your eyes at his instructions, your sensitivity pulsating as you clenched. 

He clicked his tongue as your thighs touched and finally you felt his palms on your knees. 

“Open up.” 

Arms thrown on the pillow around your head, vision blurry and blood fueling everything besides your brain, you stared at Doyoung, kneeling between your legs with that smirk on his face. 

His hands palmed your calves, pushing your legs on your chest. 

And finally, fucking finally, you felt his hot breath on your skin. 

He kissed the underside of your thigh, slowly, languidly, looking up at your face and chuckling as you lost your mind in his hold. Then another kiss, slightly lower. Then another one on the other thigh. 

His arms snaked around them, holding your hips down with one of them as you twitched, while the other caressed your side until reaching your breast. His fingers squeezed the softness of it then pinched your hard nipples, making a jolt escape your body as his mouth sucked on your skin as well. 

He was humming as if feasting and your fingers grabbed the sheets around you when you sensed you could move your arms. 

“Fuck me,” you locked eyes. “Please? I want you so badly.” 

He laughed right above your clit and dived in quickly with absolutely zero warning. 

You yelped and your muscles almost hurt from how hard you tensed. 

Hips up to meet his mouth, you slid your fingers into his damp hair. Doyoung looked up as he licked a long stripe between your lips, and you whimpered when he stopped to kitty lick your clit. His hands roamed your body, pinching, squeezing, caressing you, your stomach, breasts, sides, hips, ass. He sucked on you and licked and slid his tongue inside, taking short breathing breaks that just hit your sensitivity just as much. 

His name felt so right on your lips as you chanted it, pulling him down, even more, rutting your hips to get more, digging your nails into his forearms to say just how good he made you feel, things you couldn’t say with your mouth. 

And then you gasped, the build-up reaching the overflowing point and you begged please please please make me cum. 

He never stopped and your airflow went missing. Your shaking body went limp for a moment and you tightened your thighs around his head. Doyoung’s arms flexed, keeping your hips down as you orgasmed, his tongue still mercilessly lapping at your incredibly wet pussy. 

You gasped for air as your head spun around and perhaps you mouthed that you couldn’t take it anymore because Doyoung slowly kissed your clit a few times, sucking on it gently, before pressing his lips on your stomach, peppering wet kisses all up to your torso. 

You mewled at the godly sensation, his lips and hands worshipping you like that, and when he finally reached your face and kissed you deeply, your sweet taste lingering on his tongue as he languidly slid it around yours, you were ready to orgasm a second time. 

Finally, the kiss you’ve waited for so long, arrived and your tired arms were quick to wrap his shoulders, fingers tangling themselves in his thick hair, legs welcoming him between them. 

He stopped to breathe and his aftershave scent made you squirm. His body felt the right amount of heavy on top of you and you pressed him down even more until your breast got squeezed under his chest. Doyoung chuckled and kissed you again, one hand to wrap your thigh and lift it better around his hip. 

“Just put it in, please,” you breathed on his lips and he hummed teasingly, sliding his cock between your folds, as slowly as humanly possible. He groaned and you loved the sweet pain of his fingers squeezing your leg. Then his hand moved to the sheets near your head, the pillow underneath it long thrown to the side. You stared at his veiny forearms as he flexed his arm, filling you up until you choked. 

He kissed your jaw and under your ear, thrusting inside of you sloppily a few times until building a rhythm he enjoyed. Your nails scraped his back when he picked up the pace and by his higher soft whines, while he messily kissed your lips, engulfing your own moans and the orgasm denial from before, you knew he was close as well. 

“Cum wherever you want to,” you breathed out and it visibly drove him insane. He pulled out with a few last thrusts, and you whined, staring at his pretty hand pump his cock. He swore with a few groans and you bit your lip at the feeling of his cum coating your stomach in sprouts. 

“You look so fucking hot,” you mewled, wanting his cock inside of you again. 

Resting on his knees and a few drops of cum still sliding down off the tip, he pulled you towards you by the underside of your legs and filled you all up in one go again. 

You pushed your head back with a surprised moan and grabbed his wrist with both hands as he held you in place by the throat. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” his voice accompanied his arm, lifting one of your legs higher on his hip. He leaned down enough for you to hear his grunts reverberate in your chest mixed with the sounds you emitted. 

The hotel bed should have technically been made for rough sex yet it wasn't, because the frame hitting the wall could probably be heard by everyone. 

Were all of his agent colleagues able to hear that he was rearranging your guts? The thought made you dig your nails into his forearm, his fingers alternating pressure on your throat to just resting it there. You didn't know which sound was dirtier, the loud bed or his skin repeatedly slapping against yours. 

"You fucked with my mind since day one," he suddenly said and you felt your eyes roll back in your head by the vigour he accompanied his phrase with. 

"Yeah? Should have bent me over that clean desk of yours and make a mess out of me," you managed to reply and soon after gasped as Doyoung let your leg down and roughly kissed your lips. You wrapped your thighs around his hips and he slowed down with a groan that you swallowed. 

Foreheads touching and lips never wanting to let go, he thrust deep inside of you, making you grunt each time. 

"You think so?" he whispered near the corner of your lips. 

“That way the house should have been mine by now," your fingers slid on his nape and tugged when he sucked on the soft spot of your neck right underneath your ear. His nasal whimpers felt divine and you were about to urge him to go faster. 

"So you just want to use me," he said and for a moment you opened your eyes. Your palms descended to his face to make him look at you. 

“You really think that?” 

His panting calmed down a bit at your expression. 

“Is it not the truth?” 

“By that logic, I should be in some other dude’s room now instead though.”

“You came here for that.” 

You bit your lower lip. “You’re here to build up your future career. Don’t you think your-," you hesitated," -girlfriend should be beside you in times like that? Making sure you’re not all tense?” you palmed his flexed arms. 

The amount of courage it took you to say that made your head light. If he was about to get all soft inside of you, it would be a good indicator that he didn’t care about you like that. 

But sis eyes softened at your whispering instead and you took it for a good sign. 

“And you can also make sure I’m not tense while I’m thinking how to decorate that new apartment I got thanks to you. You got it all wrong. I don’t want to use you, but your cock," the little smile on your face made him roll his eyes with a scoff.

"I'm not making you cum," he announced. 

"Make me cum, please," you cooed. "I know you have a soft spot for me."

"You have a soft spot for me."

"No, you."

"I have a hard spot for you," he brushed your lips with his and chuckled at his own bad joke. 

The hard spot was indeed hard as he resumed moving, the smile that bloomed on your face becoming a frown of pleasure in the crook of his neck. 

"Alright then," his raspy voice added in a different tone, "do you want your boyfriend to take care of all of that paperwork?" 

[lovelyjaem]

cookies | kim doyoung

pairing: kim doyoung x reader

summary: when you desperately need help in the kitchen, your neighbour offers to help.  

genre: neighbour au, fluff

warnings: none 

word count: 1.1k

a/n: sorry I haven’t posted in so long! hope you enjoy :)

Baking seems easy enough, right? Then why were you so terrible at it? 

When you made the cookie dough, maybe it was a little difficult, but you made it work. When you put it in the oven, you could’ve sworn you put on the timer. Yet again, you should’ve realized it had been long over ten minutes.  

It smelt like something was burning, and when you glanced to the kitchen, you saw the smoke coming out of your oven. 

Your eyes widen as you hurriedly run over and open the oven, which was a mistake because smoke attacked you in the face and you had to step back and cough it out before returning. 

You quickly grab oven mitts and pull the tray out of the oven, placing it on the stove in front of you. Looking at the burnt cookies sitting there, you decide to never return to the kitchen from this day on. 

Just then you hear a knock at your door. What great timing. You take off the oven mitts and look through the peephole to see your neighbour standing outside. It just had the one you had developed a small, little crush on, seeing him leaving his apartment at the same time in the mornings. Sometimes, you even wait until you see him leaving to leave your room so you two can exchange good mornings. 

You have had nothing but small interactions with him, wanting to speak to him more than just the quick greetings, but not knowing how. But now that he was standing outside of your apartment door, you did not want to speak to him at the moment. 

You open the door and put a smile on your face, hoping he doesn’t see any of the smoke coming from the kitchen. 

“Hey, Doyoung! What brings you here? What are you up to?” Why are you speaking so much? All you had to say was a simple “hello”, not all this rambling. 

Awkwardly, he stretches the back of his neck, “Hey, I was walking by and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay, because it really smells like something is burning in here.”

Your face drops. You can smell it all the way out in the hallway? You messed up pretty bad. 

“Yeah, um, I just accidentally left the cookies in the oven for too long, no big deal.”

He raises his eyebrows, a small smile on his lips, “You burnt… cookies?”

Your cheeks flush in embarrassment, looking anywhere but him. “I’m not that good at baking. Or making anything for that matter.”

“Do you need help?”

Your head whips up to look at him, not sure you heard him correctly. When he sees the confusion evident on your face, he clarifies. 

“I’m pretty good in the kitchen, so I can help you if you want.”

You nod your head quickly, “that would be great actually, thank you.”

You open the door fully and move to the side to invite him in. 

When he enters, you lead him to your kitchen, which still contains visible smoke in the air. On top of the stove is sitting your burnt cookies. 

“Wow, you really did burn them,” 

You look down in embarrassment as Doyoung puts on oven mitts and picks up the tray. 

“I’m going to throw these out, if that’s alright?”

You quickly nod as he heads over to the garbage and dumps them in. You cringe as you hear them hit the bottom of the can, hard as a rock. 

He calls you over to show you how to properly make cookies, starting fresh from making the cookie dough. 

As you still had all the ingredients out, he easily begins the process, you following along and helping out. It continued in a simple manner: he would show you how to do something, and you would follow suit by demonstrating, to the best of your ability, what Doyoung taught you. 

You did make a bit of a mess, but eventually got the cookies in the oven. After he closes the oven door, Doyoung stands straight and looks at you. “See, it’s not that hard.” 

You scoff, “Of course it’s not. I was doing perfectly fine before you came.” 

He raises his eyebrows, “Oh really? Then you don’t need my help? Should I leave?”

“No!” 

Doyoung chuckles at the worried expression on your face and you quickly realized how you sounded just now. You clear your throat and look away, acting nonchalantly. 

You both talk for a bit, and before you know it, your timer went off (which Doyoung reminded you to set), and the cookies were ready. Once they cooled, you sat down at the table and started digging in, as you’ve been waiting way too long for these. 

“These are really good!” you exclaim, mid-bite of your soft-baked cookies, smiling at Doyoung.

He hums in agreement after he takes his first bite. “Definitely better than whatever you made.”

You roll your eyes, a smile playing on your lips. “Okay, okay, I get it, I’m a bad cook. I guess you’re just going to have to make me food all the time then,” you shrug your shoulders as Doyoung narrows his eyes at you. 

“Fine, then you’re going to have to come over so I can cook you something,” you smile at his proposal, satisfied that someone will make delicious food for you. Until, he continued, “It can be a date.”

You choke on your cookies as you look at him in disbelief. You can’t believe your ears, did Doyoung just ask you out?

With your lack of response and panicked look, Doyoung quickly follows, “Unless you don’t want it to be. I can just cook for you, if you want.” 

“No, no, it’s okay!” you tell him quickly, “I want it to be a date.”

He smiles and nods, pleased with your response. You two talk and laugh until all the cookies are finished.

“Well, I should get going now. I think I overstayed my welcome.”

“Don’t worry about it, you’re always welcome here.” he laughs quietly at your response as you both head to your door.

“Is tomorrow night alright for you?” you nod at his question. “Do you need my address?” 

You roll your eyes as a smile finds its way onto your lips. “I think I got it, but I’ll let you know if I get lost on my way.”

Doyoung chuckles, “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” 

“I can’t wait,” you tell him. “Thank you for everything today.”

He smiles at you one last time before turning away and heading out the door. You close it behind him and he quickly reaches his apartment and you see him go in. 

You can’t help the smile on your lips as you feel excitement flow through you. Today was great, but you can’t wait for tomorrow. 

thank you for reading <3

[neoseetea]

「 10:08 pm 」

doyoung x reader; slight angst; mentions of jaehyun

“you don’t love him, do you?”

your breath is caught in your throat and the knot in your chest twists in agony as you tear the few strands of grass you had plucked from your front garden when you had bid goodbye to your boyfriend only a couple of minutes ago.

“what makes you think that?” you chuckle trying to ignore how painfully quiet the atmosphere was in your living room, the tv displaying the credits of a movie you were earlier with jaehyun and his best friend.

“you don’t look as happy as you used to.”

you turn your head to look at doyoung who was sitting on the other side of the couch, his elbow is perched on the armrest and his hand was curled up into a loose fist on which his left cheek was settled on. having made yourself comfortable on where previously jaehyun was seated, at the opposite end of the couch from doyoung so there’s some distance between you two.

of course you had to keep distance with your neighbour and closest friend, not because jaehyun was a controlling boyfriend, no, he was the sweetest guy. a ‘true gentleman’, was how your mother had described him when you were gushing over how he brought you lots of gifts and took you out for dinner on the first valentines day you two spent together. you felt like a girl straight out from a kdrama, with a young ceo who was head over heels for you.

when you make eye contact with the dark haired boy and he could see the guilt in your eyes. the tiny bits of shredded grass scatter onto your lap, creating a little mess on your satin pyjamas that jaehyun had gifted you on your birthday. you draw your eyes back to the mess you had made on your lap and think about how it described your feelings towards your boyfriend of 6 years, perfectly.

your silence only confirmed his doubts yet he continues to ask you.

“you’re not in love with him, are you?”

no, because i’m in love with you.

[mint-yooxgi]

NCT Drabbles Mini-Masterlist Con't

Important things to keep in mind:

Drabbles are currently closed!

Based off of this post

An asterisk (*) signifies NSFW

OC = Reader

Part One of this masterlist can be found Here - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five

→ A Rose By Any Other... - Yandere!Prince!Jaehyun - Part Two

→ Yandere!Deity!Yangyang

→ Ritual - Yandere!Shotaro

→ Only One Night? - Yandere!Mark

→ Demon!Yuta X Angel!OC* - Part Two*

→ Early Mornings - Demon!Sicheng*

→ Control - Yandere!Demon!Jaehyun - Part Two

→ Come Back To Me - Wizard!Jungwoo - Part Two

→ The Irony of Fate - Yandere!Demon!Ten X Angel!OC

→ Bounty - Demon!Jeno X Vampire!Bounty Hunter!OC

→ Yandere!Yuta*

→ They're Mine - Yandere!Taeyong, Yandere!Doyoung, and Yandere!Johnny

→ Demon!Kun

→ Out of This World - Alien!Haechan

→ Stuck - Yandere!Jaemin

→ Yandere!Vampire!Mark

→ Beautiful Nightmare - Yandere!Incubus!Yuta*

→ No Way Out - Yandere!Taeyong

→ In Your Debt - Yandere!Mafia!Johnny - Part Two

→ I Wrote It That Way - Yandere!Writer!Kun

→ Competition - Yandere!Prince!Jeno

→ Courage - Yandere!Haechan

→ Pick Me - Yandere!Kun & Yandere!Taeyong

→ Suspicions - Yandere!Demon!Jaemin & Yandere!Demon!Jeno

→ Yandere!Student!Renjun X Professor!OC

→ Midnight Stroll - Yandere!Xiaojun

→ Summoning - Yandere!Doyoung X Demon!OC - Part Two

→ Br(C)at - Yandere!King!Cat Hybrid!Taeyong*

→ Confessions - Yandere!Jaemin

→ Yandere!Hero!Johnny X Vigilante!OC

→ Downfall - Yandere!Fallen Angel!Jaehyun X Angel!OC - Part Two

→ I Put A Spell On You - Wizard!Doyoung

→ Trial and... Error? - Yandere!Haechan - Part Two

→ Scared Yet? - Yandere!Demon!Yuta

→ Too Hot to Handle - Yandere!Jaehyun & Yandere!Johnny X Photographer!OC - Part Two

→ Car Crashed Hearts - Yandere!Ten X Therapist!OC

→ Ploy - Yandere!Taeil - Prequel

→ Boyfriend - Yandere!Jeno

→ Wolf!Sicheng

→ Yandere!Mark

→ Hate to Love, Love to Hate - Yandere!Wizard!Jaehyun

→ Home - Yandere!Vampire!Yuta

→ Midnight Storm - Yandere!Entity!Taeyong - Part Two

→ Tongue Tied - Mafia!Yuta X Barista!OC - Part Two

→ Only Time Will Tell - Yandere!Vampire!Jaehyun

→ Howdy, Neighbour - Yandere!Jeno

→ Jealous - Yandere!Hendery X Yandere!OC

→ Produce 101 - Yandere!Prince!Jaemin X Farmer!OC

→ Yandere!Assassin!Doyoung

→ Ex - Yandere!Johnny

→ Date Night - Yandere!Husband!Yuta

→ I Need A Himbo! - Yandere!Jaehyun X Tutor!OC - Part Two ft. Yandere!Sicheng, Yandere!Johnny, and Yandere!Hendery - Part Three - Part Four

→ Victory - Yandere!Demon Prince!Sicheng

→ Who's Your Bias? - Yandere!Haechan ft. NCT

→ Coffee? - Yandere!Shotaro X Nurse!OC

→ Lions, Tigers, and Bears, Oh My! - Yandere!Hybrid!Sicheng & Yandere!Hybrid!Yuta

→ Yandere!Demon!Taeyong*

→ Secrets - Yandere!Renjun

→ I Want You - Yandere!Mark X Yandere!OC - Part Two

→ Petals - Yandere!Jaehyun Hanahaki AU

→ To Love & To Be In Love - Vampire!Jaemin

→ All to Myself - Yandere!Poly!Haechan & Yandere!Poly!Renjun - Part Two

→ Wait on Me - Yandere!Xiaojun

→ My Turn - Vampire!Mark & Vampire!Kun

→ In a World... - Renjun & Jaehyun

→ In the Heights - Wizard!Jaehyun

→ Indifferent - Yandere!Doyoung

→ Yandere!Siren!Ten

→ Yandere!Idol!Kun X Fan!OC

→ Yandere!Knight!Hendery & Yandere!Knight!Mark - Part Two

→ The 'Hate' Act - Yandere!Idol!Jaemin

→ The Killing Kind - Yandere!Assassin!Jeno

→ Appeasement - Yandere!Demon!Ten - Part Two

→ Sleep Watching - Yandere!Taeyong - Part Two

→ Soulmate Acquired - Yandere!Vampire!Johnny & Yandere!Vampire!Jaehyun

→ Indulgent - Yandere!Sugar Daddy!Johnny*

[marklilies]

% a careless man’s careful daughter

pairings: doyoung x gn!reader || wc: 1.2k || warnings: light swearing, parents who are fighting || inspiration: mine by taylor swift

you spin round and round in neighbour!doyoung’s swivel chair, watching his room go by in a blur as you wait for him to come in.

the door finally swings open and doyoung strides in. he slows and does a double take as he notices your presence, but soon resumes taking off his shoes and jacket, throwing them to the side when he’s done.

he looks from you to the open window of his room and the open window of the room in the house beyond. “what are you doing here? i thought i told you to stop climbing in through the window.”

“you thought wrong, then,” you chuckle, and you pick up the rubik's cube that is resting on his desk, proceeding to fiddle with it. the cube makes clicking noises every time you manipulate it.

loosening his shirt collar, doyoung sighs. “parents fighting again?” your fingers slow, eyes dropping to your lap, and you give him the tiniest of nods. “hmm. my parents have some business friends over, so gongmyung took one for the team and decided to be the one who stayed to chat. i'm free for the rest of the night.”

more under the cut!

you carefully place the solved rubik’s cube back onto his desk as he plops down onto the bed. as he starts up his phone to game, you sift through the stack of papers on his desk. biology, math, english literature and social science. all subjects you have helped him in.

“hey, quit gaming already. talk to me,” you throw his eraser at him and it hits him square on the head. he yelps.

“hey! what was that for?” doyoung frowns in your direction while massaging his head.

“to get your attention. you can’t play games all day, you know.”

“why not?”

“because i’m here and i’ll never let you play.”

“...i hate you.”

doyoung slaps his phone onto the space beside him and huffs in annoyance, his brows knitted together in childish anger. he looks just like a bunny, and you resist the urge to pinch his cheeks.

“so… anything interesting happen in school lately?” you ask, launching yourself onto doyoung’s bed and tuck-and-rolling when you land on the sheets. you prop your head up on your elbows and blink at him expectantly.

he puts his finger in between your eyes and pushes you back so you almost roll off the bed. “no, nothing interesting.”

you narrow your eyes at his dilating pupils and notice how his knuckles turn white as he grips his phone. “liar, liar, pants on fire. you can never lie to me.”

he looks a little miffed at your response, but replies, “no, i can't.”

“so tell me.” once again, you look at him with child-like curiosity in your eyes. only this time, it is much more intense. what could he possibly be hiding?

“y/n, i don't want to tell you.”

your face falls and it’s your turn to huff in annoyance. “i hate you too.”

doyoung looks at you out of the corner of his eye and sees you sulking. “fine, dumbass.” you grin in response. “i still hate you though.”

“this random girl in my class, she… she came up to me during lunch and said she liked me. i don't even know why. we’ve never talked.”

“gee, it must be your charming personality then,” you drawl sarcastically. he flicks your forehead again.

“what do i do? what should i say to her? ‘i don't feel the same way about you because we’ve never interacted before’?” doyoung cringes at the thought, groaning and dragging his hand down his face. “i just told her i'd think about it. this is so embarrassing, honestly.”

“hah. not that your parents would ever approve of some random girl at school who doesn’t have fantastic grades or looks or connections. are they still trying to set you up with the daughters of their friends?”

“yep. and it’s always awkward because usually both of us don’t want to be there and we just sit there in silence, staring at each other and waiting for the adults to decide we can finally go home. not once have i met someone remotely interesting.”

“well, that’s love for you,” you chuckle. “hah. love. what a scam. i bet my parents said they loved each other and all that mushy shit. now they’re filing for divorce and arguing every minute of every day.”

“it’s… a scam, to you?” doyoung gives you a look, but you don't know what it means.

“yeah, pretty much. i mean, how many couples stay happy their whole lives? do you know how many people’s parents are divorced? how much ‘love’ could they have felt for each other? certainly not enough to stay together in the long run. in my opinion, the concept of ‘love’ is all fake, made up by people who are so lonely they are delusional with feelings of longing for company.”

“you say all that so casually. like you’re just talking about your opinion of a band, not defacing the name of ‘love’.”

“well, like i said, love is pretty inconsequential to me. like bands.”

doyoung swallows and hesitates before saying, “what if… what if i told you that i think i'm in love?”

you give him the side-eye, then throw your head back in laughter. “if you told me that, i'd tell you that that’s good for you, but don’t say i didn't warn you when it inevitably goes sour.”

“oh.”

you pause and look at doyoung. he is frowning at his lap, and the tips of his ears are red. you cautiously ask, “did i… did i say something wrong?”

“maybe this is a really bad time to say this, but i think i might be in love. with you,” doyoung finally lifts his eyes to meet yours, and you can see the conviction in his eyes.

you still, and all you can hear is your steady heartbeat. you stare at him for a while, letting that information sink in.

“i know this is probably way too much for you, but i just wanted you to know. you don’t have to act on it, and if you want to just forget this happened and go back to the way we were, i won't fault you. just, please don’t hate me for this. please let us at least continue being friends.”

you shake your head slowly. this is not what you want. this is not what you expected to happen. you exhale shakily, and tell doyoung, “i don't think i'm emotionally ready for a relationship. i don't think i'll ever be. i'm sorry, doyoung.” you pay close attention to his reaction. after all, doyoung is your best friend. you’ve spent your whole life climbing from your room into his via the windows.

he looks away and nods in silence, and you know that you have his understanding. he knows your parents have been fighting since you were both children, and he knows you’ve watched their relationship fall apart. but you can see that he is crestfallen, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.

“i should go,” you whisper. he nods.

you climb back out of his window.

© marklilies, 2021. all rights reserved.

[bungeenomin]

COMPETITION- KIM DOYOUNG

genre: e2l doyoung x reader 

word count: 5.2k

summary: your entire life, your neighbour has been nothing but competition. from as soon as you had the ability to form an opinion on people, it was engrained in you to hate kim doyoung. but can you still hate him when you reunite as adults after getting hired under by same company? is he still competition?

warning: oral (m+f receiving), dirty talk, sex

a/n: feel free to send me requests, asks and leave feedback!

main masterlist

from when you were a kid, you were taught to hate the kim family. ironically, both your parents and mr and ms kim pretended to like each other. they acted like they didn’t completely despise one another, but they knew they did, everyone did. the feud was so petty, you’ll admit. your families constantly competing with who was the richest, who had the nicest car, who had the better education, who’s children were more talented. no matter how petty you knew the feud was, it was ingrained in you to hate kim doyoung with all your being, and that’s exactly what you did.

when your parents and the kim’s pretended to get on, you and doyoung never dared speak to each other. in both of your eyes, you were just competition, feeding into your parents on going feud. as you sat glaring at each other at dinner meals, your parents would brag back and forth about how amazing their dear children are, constantly trying to one up each other and get the last word.

you didn’t hate anyone, you thought hating was harsh. but kim doyoung was different. you had deep, deep hatred for him. your only conversations were cold, offensive, hateful. he was an obstacle in the way of your success from the day you were born until the day you moved away for college. he was nothing but competition.

December 5th 2020

“good look today my love” your mother beams through the phone, full of pride. it’s your first day at your new job, an extremely well paid job, a job to make your parents proud of you. 

“thank you mom but i have to go now, being late on the first day wouldn’t leave a very good impression” you sigh, grabbing your handbag from the passenger seat and exiting your car, locking it behind you. “i’ll fill you in later mom, okay?”

“yes, yes of course!” your mother enthusiastically responds. “your father and i are so proud of you, talk to you later”

you sigh, locking your phone. you love your parents, you really do, but sometimes they can be intense. too intense. in their minds, everything has to be perfect first try. according to them, successful people leave no room for errors. they leave no one pass their level of success. they get distracted by no one, keep their eye on the prize. 

the building is exactly the same as you remember it from your interview, extremely large, but not too difficult to find your way around, signs and directions places frequently throughout the building. “hello, my name is y/n, i start working here today” you confidently tell the receptionist. 

“ah yes” she responds, “one of mr lee’s new recruits”. one of? clearly multiple people were taken on at once, not that it’ll be a problem to you. “follow me, i’ll lead you to where the rest are waiting” she smiles softly, walking you down a corridor and into a waiting room. “mr lee will be with you shortly!” 

there are four or five people in the room, you assume all starting work today, but your eyes lock on one person. kim doyoung. after what, five, six years? he looks the exact same, slightly better skin with more prominent facial features. he wears a slick black suit. classic. he can’t help the cold chuckle that leaves his lips the second his eyes land on you, eyeing you up and down in the process, judgementally. the last thing you expected was to see him here. after all the years you spent competing with him, you never thought that you would be back at it again after college.

“long time no see” he mutters. 

you roll your eyes, “yeah, pity, i finally erased your ugly face and shitty attitude from my memory and now i’ll have to start all over again” 

doyoung chuckles leaning closer to you, “ouch, i’m hurt. well now you have plenty of time to watch me beat you, like i always have done”

“you fucking wi-”

“hello everyone, nice to meet you all as employees and not applicants this time. as i’m sure you’re aware, i am the ceo of this company. i take great pride in my company and only hire the best of the best, people who i know will aid my companies success”

“shame he hired you then” doyoung whispers. 

“now, i am a busy man, but that does not mean i won’t see if people are slacking. If you are slacking, you get one warning. If you continue to not put in one hundred percent, you’re fired. it’s as simple as that. i will constantly be able to view your work, so i expect everyone’s full effort. i believe i pay you very well for your job, so expect it to be done well. anyway, with that being said, welcome to the company! i��hope we can all do great work together” 

as soon as mr lee finishes his introductory speech, you are brought to your offices. it is one big room but fortunately, there are walls between each desk, allowing for privacy to work. you notice there is someone in between you and doyoung, which you are eternally grateful for, you really don’t know how you would be able to work to the best of your ability knowing he’s beside you. 

it doesn’t take you long to get stuck into your work load. quickly setting up your desk to your liking and turning on your computer. honestly, the morning goes really fast. with the work load you have, you’re constantly busy. what distracts you slightly is when you see a familiar face walk to mr lee’s desk, handing him a stack of papers he was working on, ready for mr lee to read. “thank you doyoung, i appreciate your hard work already”. with that doyoung turns to go back to his desk, not before looking your way and sending you a sarcastic smile. fucking idiot. 

by the time lunch rolls around, you’re just excited to try the food that is served in the cafeteria, everything looking and smelling delicious, leaving your mouth watering. once you get your food, you sigh in defeat as you look around for a table to sit at, only to be left disappointed when you see they’re all full. your eyes slowly pan the cafeteria, looking for anywhere you can possibly sit, until your eyes land on a free seat, beside the one and only, kim doyoung, who’s sat quietly on his phone as he eats his lunch. him working here is going to be more hard than you thought. 

“can i sit here?” you question. 

“gosh y/n, looks like you’re a little obsessed with me huh?” doyoung replies, a smug look on his face. 

“you fucking wish. i wouldn’t come near you unless it was absolutely necessary, which unfortunately, it is. there’s no other seats” 

“whatever” doyoung rolls his eyes, looking back down at his phone as you take your seat. arrogant prick. 

“so” doyoung speaks up amid the awkward silence, “how has little y/n been?”. to anyone else, they would think he was being nice, but you know he’s just nosy. prying into your business as usual. 

“i’ve been great. i graduated top of my year in university, got to travel a lot. all good things” you reply, a smug expression on your face. 

“you know y/n you should really get the stick out of your ass, it’s very unprofessional” doyoung replies, him now wearing a smug expression as yours drops. 

“oh fuck you doyoung”

“i’m sure you’d love to sweetheart” 

the rest of the day went relatively fast, without any more encounters with doyoung, thankfully. before you know it, you’re back in the comfort of your own apartment, relaxing with a glass of wine. you’ve already informed your parents about your first day, causing them to almost burst with pride. what throws them off slightly is the mention of doyoung. ‘don’t mind him’ you mother advised. ‘don’t let him get in your way’ your father informed. not that you intended to take notice of him, certainly not intending on letting him get in your way. 

December 14th 2020

working with doyoung is proving to be a lot harder than it seems. he’s very, in your face. always chiming in with his opinion and what he thinks is right. his presence alone gets on your nerves, let alone when he opens his mouth. to everyone else, he seems like a great, hardworking guy, but to you, he’s just in your way. a headache. an inconvenience. 

“doyoung these files are for you” you sigh standing at doyoung’s desk with your hand extended. 

doyoung looks up from his desk, taking the files from your hand and flicking through them. “no they aren’t” he nonchalantly responds, handing them back to you. 

“doyoung why the fuck would i lie about something so stupid?” you scoff, rolling your eyes at his stupidity. “these are for you”

doyoung sits back in his chair, folding his arms. “how do i know you’re not just loading your work onto me, hmm?”

“fucking hell doyoung why are you the most difficult person in the world? jesus. they’re yours. take them, if you don’t do them, it’s you falling behind, not me” you groan, once again extending your arm out with the files that doyoung insists don’t belong to him. as doyoung takes the files from you, your hands brush off each other swiftly, but it’s enough to make your cheeks turn pink to your dismay. 

doyoung chuckles slightly at your reaction to such a small touch. “are you okay?” doyoung questions, playing innocent. 

“of course i am” you respond sharply. 

“whatever you say darling” doyoung chuckles turning his attention back to his computer, leaving you standing there with your mouth hanging at his words. “it’s rude to stare y/n, am i that attractive to you?” doyoung asks, completely focused on his computer screen. 

“fuck off” you mumble before storming back to your office. that’s the thing about doyoung. he’s cocky. too cocky. always thinking he’s better than everyone, above everyone. thinks he’s beautiful. he makes you sick. 

doyoung doesn’t mean to stare. he honestly doesn’t. he catches himself doing it quite often though. the coffee machine is placed in perfect eye line of your desk. it just so happens that doyoung spends a lot of time at the coffee machine. he convinces himself that he looks in anger. you stress him out after all. you’re his enemy. his competition. he never gets caught staring at you, well, until now. “it’s rude to stare kim!” you shout at him from your seat when your eyes meet his, only earning an eye roll from doyoung. you giggle lightly at his reaction. you’ve always loved getting under his skin. 

December 19th 2020

you honestly thought your day was going great. there was very little traffic, no line at the coffee machine, you were way ahead on your work. That was until your boss entered your office, asking specifically that you and doyoung stay back a few hours to get through some work with him. of course, this is your worst nightmare, but who are you to turn down your boss?

“just wait inside my office” mr lee announces to the two of you, “i’ll be back in a few minutes i just have a quick phone call to take”.

the silence between both you and doyoung is severe as you sit in the two seats across from mr lee’s. you try think of something to say, literally anything, to break the awkward silence, but you can’t think of anything. reflecting now, you and doyoung have ever had a casual civil conversation.

“doyoung can we just- can we just cut the shit for this?” doyoung raises an eyebrow in curiosity. “we’re doing this with our boss, and the snappy comments and awkwardness is just gonna look bad, so can we just pretend we don’t hate each other for this”

“fine” doyoung snaps, crossing his arms over his chest and facing straight ahead, you doing the same. once again, the silence is deafening. it’s been a significant length of time since your boss left now, probably getting caught up on the call. “remember that year our families went to the lake together?”

you look across at doyoung, thrown back by his sudden conversation starter. “of course i do, it was a fucking disaster” you chuckle lightly, thinking back on the events.

“the literal worst” doyoung responds. “it felt more like family bootcamp than a break”. it really did. both of your dads spent the whole trip trying to one up each other, making sure their family was presenting themselves as best as they could the entire time. It was intense. 

“no, the worst was when our dads kept trying to one up each other on the jet ski’s” you giggle, “they literally just embarrassed each other”. at the time, you hated the trip. you felt tense the whole time, on edge. looking back now, you can’t help but to laugh at the mayhem. 

“they really did” doyoung cringes, remembering how hard his dad tried to show off his ‘jet ski skills’ when in reality, he was a complete amateur, just like your dad. 

“we beat you in the family tennis tournament though” you tease, remembering how happy you were with the victory. 

“oh whatever, as if i was gonna go hard on a girl. i’m way better than you” doyoung scoffs. 

“oh my god, remember when our dads decided to make a barbecue together!” you laugh loudly, your eyes welling with tears. 

“stop that was so bad” doyoung chuckles, “we just ended up with way too much food and they burned half of it”

once you both calm down from your fit of laughter. there’s a weird atmosphere. everything feels lighter. you and doyoung sit there for a minute, just staring at each other with silly smiles on your face. “i still fucking hate you”

“thank fuck for that” doyoung replies, rolling his eyes once again, playfully this time.

“i’m so sorry!” mr lee announces as he barges into the office. “i’ve kept you here for over an hour without doing anything. look, just go home for tonight i’m so sorry” the older man sighs.

you and doyoung ensure him it’s okay, before getting up and leaving, going your separate ways into the old december night. 

December 24th 2020

the usual christmas eve agenda didn’t even cross your mind when you started your new job. of course, your christmas eve will be spent in doyoung’s families house. this was typical of your families at christmas, the host house alternating every year. 

“merry christmas!” ms kim greets at the door, allowing you enter into her home. “go to doyoung sweetie, he’ll get you a drink” she suggests, extending her arm to the living room, where sure enough, doyoung was. 

doyoung’s eyes devour your figure as you stand in front of him. your dress hugging your figure beautifully, showing you off in all the right places. “your mom told you to get me a drink” you say, an eyebrow raised. 

“wine?”

“red”

soon after you giving your order and taking a seat on the now empty couch, doyoung returns, two glasses of red wine in his hand, taking a seat beside you. “don’t you want to go into the dining room with everyone else?” 

“do you really want to listen to them more than you have to?” doyoung questions, earning a giggle from you as you sip on the expensive wine.

“absolutely not” you reply, getting comfortable on the couch, facing doyoung slightly. “are you going to the new years party in work?” 

“mhmm. it’ll be nice. it also would leave a bad impression on the boss if i didn’t show” doyoung replies sipping on his wine. things are weird between you two since the day in mr lee’s office. it’s like something switched inside the two of you. maybe it’s because you’re speaking as adults now, not children. maybe it’s because you’re both independent of your parents. for whatever reason, you can’t find the same hatred you had for doyoung previously. “are you going?” 

“mhmm” 

“will you look as beautiful as you do now?” doyoung questions, tilting his head slightly sideways. 

“w-what?” 

doyoung leans in, so close to your lips, eyes stuck on them. you close your eyes, thinking doyoung was about to close the gap between, but instead he whispers in your ear, “maybe you’ll get a midnight kiss”

“doyoung, y/n dinner come on!”  

doyoung stands up, a smug smirk on his lips as he extends a hand to help you up. 

“You’re insatiable Kim Doyoung”

December 31st 2020 

the work new years eve party is going much better than you thought it would. everyone mingling, getting to know each other more than just ‘the person in the office beside me’. everyone is currently sat on the rooftop of the building, a cozy little set up. the addition of alcohol in the coworkers interactions allows them to feel a lot more casual and at easy with each other. 

“everyone it’s just time! come on” someone shouts from beside the large projector mr lee had brought up for the countdown. everyone rises from their seats, glasses of champagne in their hands as they walk towards the projector. 

“ten”

“nine”

“eight”

“seven”

“six”

“five”

you feel an arm sling around you wait. looking up your eyes meet doyoung’s.

“four”

“three”

your heart is pounding in your chest as you get closer and closer to finishing the countdown, doyoung’s eyes remain glued on yours, like no one else is present.

“two”

you place a hand gentle on his upper chest.

“one”

“happy new year” doyoung whispers.

“happy new year”. before you can even process the celebratory screams and shouts around you, you feel a soft pair of lips against your own.

the kiss is so soft, delicate, lips gently placed together. you pull back slightly, looking up at doyoung, who rubs soft circles on your waist. you pull doyoung closer to you, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, the body on body contact driving you wild. The kiss this time is harsher, needier, more desperate, your lips moving passionately against each other with such ease.

reality hits doyoung, remembering you are surrounded by colleges. he pulls back and whispers in your ear, “let’s get out of here baby, hmm?”

your back is against doyoung’s door the second you both make it into his apartment, doyoung’s lips attacking your neck, peppering it in kisses, sucking large marks all over. “mmh doyoung” you moan, tilting your head to the side, allowing the man have more access.

“jump” doyoung mumbles against your neck, tapping your thighs lightly as an indication, to which you comply. you jump, wrapping your legs around doyoung’s waist, him holding your legs up with his arms, his hands resting on your ass squeezing it as he begins bringing you to his room. “gonna fuck you so good” doyoung announces, nipping on your neck.

doyoung lays you on your back, him on top of you, not once detaching his lips from your neck. your hands find their way to the hem of his shirt, tugging at it, signalling for doyoung to remove the garment. doyoung complies, pulling back to unbutton his shirt, throwing it to the other side of the room. “your dress is so pretty baby, but i think it’ll look prettier on the floor” and with that, doyoung removes your beautiful red dress, allowing it to move to the floor, leaving you in your red lace lingerie. “fuck baby, you look so good for me” doyoung praises, already working on unclasping your bra.

the second your breasts are free from the confines of your bra, doyoung’s lips are on your right nipple, sucking on it harshly, flicking his tongue across the sensitive nub, leaving you a moaning mess. doyoung doesn’t neglect your other boob, messaging it with his large hand, pinching and twirling your nipple between two fingers. “fuck doyoung” you moan, grappling onto his hair, a small groan escaping doyoung’s lips in response, the vibrations against your nipple driving you wild.

doyoung trails kisses all the way down your stomach, making sure to leave his mark on the way. “you want me so bad huh? you’re a moaning mess for me already baby” doyoung smirks against your skin. 

“doyoung, i’m supposed to fucking hate you” you moan out as doyoung starts kissing along the lining of your soaking wet panties. 

“baby, we both know we’re passed that point now” doyoung chuckles as he pulls down your destroyed panties, proud of the mess he caused as he see’s your glistening folds, your juices starting to drip down your thigh. 

doyoung places open mouthed kisses on your thighs, taking in all of you. worshiping every inch of your body, the whimpers escaping your throat being music to his ears. “mmh fuck doyoung” you moan as doyoung licks a stripe up your dripping folds, collecting your juices on his tongue. 

“taste so good baby” doyoung groans, dragging two fingers up your folds and bringing them to your mouth letting you taste yourself, airy whines leaving your lips as you suck on his slender fingers. “gonna make you feel so good” 

with no warning, doyoung shoved two fingers into your tight hole, a scream escaping your lips as he does so. “f-fuck doyoung faster” you moan, grabbing the bed sheets tightly. doyoung listens, picking up his pace, fucking your dripping core with his fingers faster than you can even process.

the room is filled with your load moans, your legs shaking as doyoung’s pace gets faster and faster. doyoung smirks at you before bending down and attaching his lips to your clit, gaining a scream from you as your eyes roll to the back of your head. “doyoung i’m gonna cum fuck” you moan, grabbing onto his hair tightly.

doyoung moans against your clit, sending you over the edge. doyoung’s fingers and mouth don’t stop as you reach your high, continuining to move the whole way through and continuing after, sending your body into shock. “fuck doyoung i came already stop” you moan, causing doyoung to finally let you calm down, stopping his actions and looking at you with a proud look on his face.

doyoung meets your lips again, placing a chaste kiss on them before whispering in your ear, “you haven’t even taken my dick yet angel”. you look at him with doe eyes, as you feel his hard dick through his pants rub against your stomach.

“are you gonna take me like a good girl, hm?” doyoung questions, tucking your hair behind your ear. you respond with a nod but that’s not enough for doyoung. “words angel. use them”

“yes doyoung”

“good girl” he smiles, placing another quick peck on your lips before leaning back to remove his now very tight suit pants and boxers, allowing his hard dick to slap against his stomach, earning a small whimper from you.

“sit up for me baby” doyoung smiles, extending a hand for you to take, helping you sit up. “knees angel”

you comply to doyoung’s request, getting on your knees for him, now eye level with his hard length. doyoung pumps himself twice before tapping his length against your lips, giving you the hint to open for him, which you do.

you wrap your mouth around his leaking tip, collecting his precum on your tongue, earning a groan from doyoung. you move your lips to the base of his length, dragging your tongue all the way back to the top from the bottom, following the vein the goes the whole way up. “stop teasing fuck” doyoung grunts, grabbing a fist full of your hair. “suck”

you once again wrap your mouth around his tip, but before you could move by yourself, doyoung shoves your head down his entire length, hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag. “pretty” doyoung smirks, enjoying the tears welling up in your eyes as you look up at him as he fucks your throat. moans and groans spill out of doyoung’s lips as your tongue works wonders on his hard length. a moan escapes your lips, causing his eyes to roll back in his head. “enough”doyoung groans, pulling your head off of him, “i’m not cumming until i fuck you baby”

doyoung effortlessly lifts you up, laying you down in the middle of his king sized bed. “do i need a con-”

“no!” you reply sharply. “no i’m on birth control. you don’t need one” you blush at your quick response.

“fuck you’re perfect” doyoung groans, attaching your lips together for the umpteenth time tonight. you’ve had your fair share of kisses, but none of them feel like doyoung’s. his lips feel like they’re made for you. your mouths move in perfect synchronisation, making you feel so whole, so excited.

you moan against doyoung’s lips as you feel his dick against your wet folds. “doyoung please i need you” you whine against his lips, earning a smirk from doyoung.

“so desperate for me angel” he teases. “how badly do you need me?” he questions, teasing you more by just sticking the head of his length in you.

“mmh fuck so bad doyoung i need you so bad, please” you plead, eyes wide showing your desperation.

“good girl” doyoung kisses you softy before moving his hips slowly, moving inside you inch by inch until he bottoms out, both of you whimpering at the feeling. “ready?”

“yes please move” you whimper underneath him.

doyoung wastes no time in grinding his hips in and out of you, fucking you at a fast pace. “you look so pretty angel” doyoung praises, “i love how fucked out you look for me”

“f-fuck doyoung” you moan as he picks his pace up again, you grabbing onto his forearms. “fucking me so good mmh”

doyoung throws back his head in pleasure, your words making him harder and harder, snapping his hips more harshly into you. “you’re so tight for me angel. such a good girl. you make me feel so good angel. all those pretty moans”

doyoung’s praises earn a loud moan from you, digging your nails into his back. you feel doyoung twitch inside you, he’s close. “my good girl. you’re mine angel aren’t you?”

“mmh yes doyoung fuck, just yours, no one else”

doyoung brings his hand to your clit, thumbing the bundle of nerves rapidly as a string of moans escape your lips. “cum with me baby yeah?”

“mmh yes fuck” you moan loudly as you both reach your highs. loud moans from both of you bounce off the walls at your euphoric feeling. “fuck” you whisper as doyoung pulls out of you carefully, his cum dripping out of your hole.

doyoung throws himself down beside you, pulling you into his arms, peppering your face in gentle kisses. “my good girl. you did so good for me baby, so so good” he praises, moving your hair out of your face. “i’m gonna get you cleaned up my love, okay? i’ll be back in a second” he says, placing a delicate kiss on your forehead and walking to the bathroom. 

doyoung returns a minute later with a wet wash cloth, sitting in between your legs. “i’ll try be gentle angel” doyoung warns, earning an appreciative smile from you. 

“Ah sore, sore, sore” you complain as doyoung meddles at your sensitive area. 

doyoung pouts seeing your pain. “sorry baby, i’m done now”. doyoung throws the wash cloth in his laundry basket before climbing back into bed with you, something he hopes he can get used to doing. he pulls you close against his chest and plays with your hair, as if he’d lose you if he didn’t hold you tight. 

“doyoung?” you question, looking up at him with soft eyes. 

“yes baby?”

“why did we spend so long hating each other” you frown. 

“well when we were kids, it was inevitable. but when i became a teenager, it was easier to still hate you than to admit my feelings for you” doyoung shrugs. 

“huh?” you reply confused. he liked you then?

“i liked you a lot when we were teenagers silly” doyoung chuckles. “you’re beautiful, you always have been, you can’t blame me!”

“so you were mean to me because you liked me” you scoffed playfully. 

“exactly” he chuckles, placing a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“you know y/n” doyoung speaks, “when i liked you back then, i knew we wouldn’t get together while still living at home. i knew we were both too stubborn, and our parents would be too difficult. but i told myself that i’d wait for you. that in the future, we’d meet again and you’d be mine. now, i have you, and it was so worth the wait. 

you can’t believe what you’re hearing. the kim doyoung who caused you all that struggle and strife, has been waiting to call you his. wants to love you. wants to be there for you. “bold of you to assume i want to be yours” you tease, sticking your tongue out at him. 

“well do you want to leave me?” he responds with an amused raised eyebrow. 

“never” you whisper, connecting your lips once again, your new favourite hobby. 

January 1st 2021

you had the best sleep of your life last night, in the arms of the one you love. you had the best morning of your life, waking up to cuddles, kisses, breakfast, coffee. it was nice having breakfast with him, the small talk and jokes, it just felt so domestic. so normal. so right. 

“babe, they’re going to be staring at my neck” you pout, as doyoung takes the keys out of the ignition as you pull up outside your workplace. 

“good” doyoung smirks, “they need to know you’re mine”. with a quick kiss on the lips, you’re both out of the car, walking towards the company building. 

walking in to your work hand and hand with doyoung, your neck littered in hickeys from him feels so right. you’re proud to be his. proud to let everyone know. you get some looks from coworkers as you walk through the building, but you couldn’t care less. he’s yours. 

“i’ll see you at lunch angel” doyoung smiles, leaning up against your office wall. 

“that’s if you can resist me for the long” you giggle. 

doyoung rolls his eyes playfully, “brat”  

never in a million years would you have believed you would end up loving kim doyoung. up until two months ago, he was nothing but competition to you. an obstacle to you. now, you want to be with him all the time. you love seeing his head sticking around the corner of your office when he’s at the coffee machine. you love hearing him talk. you love seeing him thrive at his job, no longer seeing him as competition. after all these years, you and doyoung are on the same team. your own team, not your parents. telling your parents about your relationship will probably be, a lot, but you’ll go through whatever it takes for kim doyoung. now you have him, you’re never letting go. 

———————————————————————

@bubudays @uhyikesbro @whoe-dis @nctxtrash @junglewoos @ajhdr @obligatoryidolblog

[arth0es]

somewhere in these eyes (I’m on your side)

pairing: kim doyoung x reader

genre: slight angst, happy ending

Fall back into place -

Summary: In which there are a thousand other universes where the stars don’t align, but maybe this isn’t one of them.

chapter 1, chapter 2

You take a moment to appreciate it now, as you stop in the middle of the concrete stairs that lead up to your parents’ house. The same house you’d grown up in, where you’d sometimes sit and stare for hours out the window at the rest of the town below you. When you look around you it feels as though nothing has changed despite the years. It’s comforting.

You take a moment to appreciate it now, as you stop in the middle of the concrete stairs that lead up to your parents’ house. The same house you’d grown up in, where you’d sometimes sit and stare for hours out the window at the rest of the town below you. When you look around you it feels as though nothing has changed despite the years. It’s comforting.

You take a moment to appreciate it now, as you stop in the middle of the concrete stairs that lead up to your parents’ house. The same house you’d grown up in, where you’d sometimes sit and stare for hours out the window at the rest of the town below you. When you look around you it feels as though nothing has changed despite the years. It’s comforting.

You hadn’t planned to do much in the holidays other than sit at home and binge read whilst you had the time, so when your mom rang you a few nights ago telling you that it would be nice if you came home for Christmas you’d thought to yourself ‘sure, why not?’. You hadn’t packed much- just light luggage, knowing that most of your belongings would still be at home, untouched.

As for Milo, your neighbour had offered to look after him while you were gone. You’d been so tempted to bring him with you knowing how much your dad would adore him, but your mom was insanely allergic to cats. You still feel guilty, especially when you remember the look on his face when you’d handed him to your neighbour before you left. He was quite offended, to say the least. You sigh, dropping your bag on the porch to ring the doorbell. You’re sure he’ll forgive you if you bring him some treats when you return. (Hopefully)

The scent of freshly baked cookies wafts towards you from the kitchen as you catch up with them. It’s nice to be home.

-

Later that night, after having dinner with your parents (you hadn’t realised just how much you’d missed home cooked meals) and relaxing in front of the tv for a while, you make you way up to your room. Your childhood bedroom, exactly as you’d left it. You’d long grown out of your wannabe-skater girl phase but had left all the posters and band albums up anyway. Your desk was still littered with old books and drawings- albeit it was slightly neater since your mom couldn’t help but clean up just a little whilst you were gone.

Ironically, the room is much larger than the one back in your apartment, which is why it feels so strange every time you take in all the things of your past that are scattered around you. Memoirs from days you treasure, simply objects like an old pair of headphones that you can’t bear to part with. Your polaroids are still strung up on the wall above your bed, some of the best pictures missing as you’d taken them with you when you’d left, just to keep them close. In most of them you are smiling, arms thrown around your best friend as if the moment would never end. He smiles back at you in others, from across the space where your other friends squeeze in for the picture.

You take one of the polaroids from its place, turning it over in your hands. It’s a picture from when both yours and Doyoung’s family had insisted on a joint trip to the beach. You’d stayed at a beach house close to the pier, and you’ll always remember it as one of the bet times of your life. Doyoung had forced you down to the beach every evening and the two of you would sit for hours, laughing as the sun went down until it was just the two of you under stars, the sea your only companion. You smile fondly, looking at the back of the polaroid where you’d scribbled the date in awfully messy handwriting. Both your signatures were signed at the bottom, an infinity sign in between your names.

You go about the rest of the evening settling in, unpacking your clothes and hanging them up in the closet, placing your toothbrush in the bathroom along with your toothpaste. It’s like moving in all over again, except this time, into a place well-engraved in your soul. You know where everything is already, know exactly which doors lead to what room. It’s second nature to fluff the pillows and place one on your right, because you’ve always disliked the cold air that drafts upwards from the small space between your bed and the bedside drawer.

It also feels natural when your eyes flit towards the window when you finally sit down, expecting someone to be in the room directly across yours. When you were younger it had always seemed cool to you that Doyoung’s room was next to yours, only separated by the space between the houses. It meant you could talk to each other for hours after you’d come home from hanging out at the park, sitting in the window and watching out over the town together. It was comforting- to be able to wave over at the room across yours and see him waving back, like routine.

When you do so now, you expect nothing but the drawn curtains and darkness that indicate no one is there. A part of you is slightly disappointed, but really, what could you expect? Doyoung no longer lives at home. Just like you, he’d moved out a long time ago in order to pursue his career. You sigh to yourself before turning around to switch on the fairy lights above your head. They flicker dimly in exhaustion as if they don’t really know how to function after being left alone for so long. As you toss and turn to get comfortable on your weak mattress, you make a mental note to visit the Kims when you get a chance.

-

The rest of your first week at home goes by in blur of preparing for Christmas and visiting old friends and neighbours. On one of the days your dad had insisted on taking you along with him to choose a Christmas tree- which ended up being too big for the room and bending slightly at the top where the tree meets the ceiling. Your mom hadn’t been pleased, but your dad refused to take it back. ‘It adds a little quirk!’ was his choice of reasoning. Your mom had also roped you into helping her try out new cookie recipes, and who were you to resist being her certified taste tester? All too soon, you’d settled back into your old life, one filled with homecooked meals every evening and a warmth that you’d never find elsewhere.

It's one of these nights that you notice something odd. The day had been nothing short of hectic, with your aunty and uncle arriving to spend Christmas as a last minute addition and spending the day with them around town. By the time you’d gone up to your room for the night you wanted nothing more than to flop down on your bed and drift off. Your mattress, though it still made your back ache, had never looked so inviting. The moonlight was slightly too bright to sleep with, so you shuffle over to the window to draw the curtains shut. As you do, your eyes catch movement from outside. It appears that the room across your window is no longer empty. A soft, yellowy glow peeks out from between the curtains, encasing it in light as a figure moves about behind it. You’re quick to stomp out the hope that rises inside you like candlelight, yanking the curtains shut and moving away. It’s probably just his mother, you tell yourself. Even so, you spend the rest of the evening stealing glances over at the window where the room continues to stay dimly lit, you heart thudding a little harder than usual.

-

‘Oh, hand me those, I’ll set the table.’

You called to your aunty, who smiled gratefully and passing the plates to you before making her way into the kitchen to help your mom with the dinner.

You hadn’t expected Christmas day to roll around so quickly but here you were now, getting ready for dinner. Decorations littered the room- courtesy of your dad who’d decided to go all out with the tinsel this year. The entire room was encased in Christmas spirit, soft white glows from the fairy lights that hung from the ceiling spilling over the furniture and into the kitchen, where your uncle cracked jokes about your aunties’ misshapen cookie decorations. Despite the comfort you’d already been feeling since being back home, you felt at ease now, surrounded by the earthly smell of mistletoe and pine, fire crackling in the fireplace behind you.

With the table set, you turn to the kitchen to start bringing out the food when the doorbell sounds from down the hallway. Before you can move to go answer, your mom pokes her head out from the kitchen.

‘Ah I forgot to tell you y/n, I invited the Kims over too. That must be them now.’ Your confusion ebbs away as she speaks before being displaced with an eagerness. You hadn’t seen your neighbours in quite some time, with them being away the week you arrived. You’d been meaning to pay them a visit, but the thought had slipped your mind once your aunty and uncle had arrived.

‘Y/n, the door!’ Oh, right. The doorbell rings again as you rush to answer it, smoothing down your hair and wiping your palms on your sweater as you do. You’re oddly nervous to see Doyoung’s parents again after so long, you realise with a start as your hand turns the knob. The door swings open quite harshly when you do, and for a moment you’re met with nothing but icy wind that you wish you’d been better prepared for.

‘Mr and Mrs Kim! It’s so great to see you, come on in!’ Is what you begin to say, but when your vision clears and your eyes fall upon a lone figure, the words die in your mouth. It feels as though someone has just pulled the rug from beneath your feet, leaving you falling to the ground dumbfounded. Suddenly, everything around you seems to dissipate, fizzling into white noise. Your mouth feels sticky, as if your brain is trying to function but it’s lost control of your limbs.

‘Hi, y/n,’ says Doyoung, cheeks pink from the frost and dark hair tousled from the wind that flickers between the two of you as you stand there, silent in front of him.

‘Merry Christmas.’

You give him no response, to which he smiles sort of awkwardly and scratches his head. Something wet pricks the corners of your eyes and it takes a moment to realise that they're tears. You hurry to wipe them away with your sleeve and force yourself to get it together. The start of a mumbled sentence tumbles out of your mouth before you’re cut off by your mom coming up from down the hallway. She nudges you slightly to the side, enthusiastically greeting Doyoung and his parents, who seem to have made their way up the front path sometime after you’d opened the door. Doyoung’s mom sweeps you in for a hug and you’re momentarily consumed by the scent of her perfume, flowery and as familiar to you as the lines of your own palm. You’re grateful for the chaos that arises as your mother ushers the everyone into the dining room to greet the rest of your family, although you can’t help the lump that forms in your throat when you hear your dad heartily welcome Doyoung back.

Dinner goes by in a blur of festivities and laughter, with the success of your mom’s Christmas cooking raising everyone’s spirits. Your parents are eager to catch up with the lives of your neighbours, who animatedly describe all sorts of excited stories from the two week trip to Jeju island that they’d just returned from. Mrs Kim turns to you every so often, asking you about life in the city. Chatting with her feels easy, her soothing voice easing you into steady conversation. You find yourself wanting to babble on about everything you’ve learnt whilst living in Seoul, feeling comfortable in your little zone with her.

As you eat, consumed by the lively atmosphere and the heat of candlelit décor, you can’t help but feel a little uneasy. When your dad launches into a story about a fishing trip gone wrong that has the whole table erupting in bouts of laughter, you barely catch a word he says. Instead, your eyes flit back and forth to the person sitting across from you. Doyoung, looking as though he never left, settles back in his seat as he catches your dad’s warm smile. He smiles back of course, and your stomach does a flip at the sight. That same bunny toothed smile that you’d grown up seeing, one that you hadn’t seen in years.

He makes conversation with your uncle, and you analyse him like he's a stranger you’ve never met before. From the jet black colour of his natural hair to the pale blue sweater that lifts slightly every time he shifts, making you turn away with a faint blush. On the surface he’s still every bit the boy you knew, so why do you feel so uneasy? Your eyes perk up when your mom asks him about his career, and you try to appear indifferent as he recounts the story of his audition, and where he is now. You feel a strange sense of pride when he mentions the upcoming album his band will be releasing, but your smile fades when he catches your eye.

It's like the universe wants to mock you, because your mom notices the exchange and points out how heart-warming it is to see the two of you together in one room after so long. Doyoung- ever the charmer, smiles warmly at her before praising her cooking. As she gushes over his politeness and how much she’s missed having him around he glances back at you. You pretend not to notice, instead taking big gulps of water to ease the pit forming at the bottom of your stomach. In doing so, you fail to notice the way hurt flashes across his face.

-

Once everybody has had too much to eat and begin to help clear the table, you decide you could use some fresh air. After weaselling your way out of doing the dishes- your aunty ushers you out of the kitchen upon seeing the redness of your cheeks – you wrap a thick scarf around your neck and make your way out onto the porch.

Outside the moon has risen high, yet it’s light is only one of many. From where your house is perched on the hill you can see out across the entire town, where Christmas lights glitter and shine in almost every house, illuminating the streets all the way down to the river. Thick snow covers the town in a crystalline blanket- undisturbed and so, so breath taking. Despite the frost that is slowly seeping through your sweater and settling into your bones, you feel as though you could fall asleep here, sat on the creaky old swing on your porch and gazing over the town as festivities carry on through the night.

After a moment, your attention is caught by the sound of giggling. You turn your head to see children rushing out of a house a few doors down, eager to play in the fresh snow before anyone else. You watch as the two little kids hurry back to the front door where their mother stands, swaddling them in thick coats and hats before once again running off to scoop up snow in their gloved hands. Seeing them wrapped up all snug reminds you of your own outdoor clothing- or lack thereof. As you begin to get up to reluctantly make your way inside, you feel something cover your back. When you look up, Doyoung is adjusting a jacket to cloak your shoulders before settling down on the swing next to you.

‘You seemed cold. I figured you’d need to wrap up if you were going to stay out longer.’ He says, scratching his head as he looks away. You note that he seems to be avoiding your gaze, the same way you’d been doing at dinner.

‘Thank you, Doyoung.’ You say warmly, and it’s when he looks to you with slightly wide eyes that you realise it’s the first thing you’ve said to him all evening. The realisation has you chewing at your lip as you turn, once again looking over the town. Why were you making this awkward? After all, you had been the one to miss him all these years so why now, when he’s finally next to you, are you clamming up? Before you can spiral off into your own cloud of thought, you hear Doyoung clear his throat. His lips move as if to speak, but he says nothing. You watch as he hesitates and taking pity on him, decide to break the silence.

‘My mom really enjoyed having you guys over.’ You smile as you recall her excitement at dinner earlier. ‘She’s been going on about wanting to do Christmas together ‘like we used to’ ever since I arrived.’ Doyoung laughs softly in surprise, and you can feel his gaze on you as he does. The heat of it makes you tingle, spreading over your face and warming you up more than the jacket on your shoulders. ‘I’ve missed her cooking, if I’m being honest. Store bought ramen four days a week just isn’t the same as home cooked meals.’

The mention of ramen reminds you of his life as an idol, and you bite back the questions that flood your mind. You want so desperately to ask him everything you’d been thinking since he left, but you can hear the hesitation in his voice as he speaks; and it’s enough to make you stand still. The two of you are tip toeing around the words you really want to say. And even though it’s slightly uncomfortable, you’ve never been good at handling these situations and you’re all too aware of how close you are sat on this swing, you don’t want to run away. Not when you’ve finally been given a chance to patch up the confused hole in your heart.

‘It’s…. it’s nice having you back.’ You say, mustering all your courage to look him in the eye as you do. And you mean it, even though you’ve been acting like it isn’t. Seeing him again after all this time and having dinner with him and his family just like you did many times as a child, it’s nice.

A soft blush rises on his cheeks at your words, so faint you could hardly see it if you weren’t now gazing at him so intently. Your eyes flit over his face as he coughs into the back of hand before replying.

‘It’s nice being back,’ he pauses, weighing his next words carefully.

‘I’ve missed you. Deeply.’

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard. In all your time after he left, you’d never considered that he might feel the same way about the way you fell apart. At your silence, Doyoung finally raises his eyes to meet your own. And as you watch him, watch the way the Christmas lights reflect like stars in his gaze that ignites you with a sentimental warmth you’ll never find in anyone else, you decide that the rest of your questions can wait.

‘I’ve missed you too, doie’ His ears perk up at the sound of his nickname, and all hesitation seeps out of him like snow under a morning sun. For the first time that night, you feel whole. He reaches up to adjust the jacket on you once again and when he’s done, his hand settles on the small of your back instead of pulling away.

Sure, there’s still many unspoken words between the two of you, and it might take the rest of your stay here to cover them. But for now, sitting together under the same gleam of the silver moon, you’re reconnected- and that is enough.

[doyumacy]

FALLOUT |LH| SIX

*gif not mine

PAIRING: donghyuck x reader bodyguard!donghyuck

WARNINGS: mentions of yuta, doyoung jeno. swearing, hospital (broken rib, bruises).

WORD COUNT: 2,8K

SEVEN

You spent the duration of the ride pondering if Donghyuck was seriously injured. Or if he had died. The car began to slow down, and you looked up to see where he was. The hospital.

After Donghyuck left you with the rest of the security team, you refused to go home and wanted to make sure he was okay. You couldn't lose him.

You made your way to the E.R and a nurse took you to the room where he was being treated by the doctors. You knocked on the door and then opened it. He was laying on a stretcher gurney. He was shirtless and had bandages around his ribs and an arm on his eyes covering them.

"Donghyuck?" You called.

"(Y/N)?," He stared at you. "What are you doing here?"

You rushed through the door and finally got a good look at him. He had bruises all over his chest and waist. Your eyes started watering. "You look like hell." You breathed. Your hand instinctively looked out his. Donghyuck was pale and his skin was clammy.

"I know," he admitted. "But you cannot be in here. Please leave, (Y/N)."

"I won't leave," you held his hand and squeezed it. "What did the doctors say? Are you hurt?"

"I have a broken rib," Donghyuck tried to sit and growled. "Please go home, you'll be safer there. I couldn't even protect you out there, what makes you think I will be here?"

"Hey, hey," you whispered and cupped his face in your hands, "it's not your fault. I'm okay, I'm not hurt and that wasn't your fault, okay?"

"We need to talk., (Y/N). There’s something you need to know..." He stared at you.

Suddenly, the door opened harshly revealing an upset Yuta. He had his jaw tightened and grabbed your arm roughly, almost making you whine. "You will not spend a single minute with this useless bodyguard. We're leaving, (Y/N)."

"Yuta," you let go off of his grip. "What are you even doing here?"

"I came to do his motherfucking job: protecting you. You almost die today, (Y/N)." Yuta stared at you and then looked at Donghyuck. "Don't you ever even bother to come back. You're fired."

"I'm the one who makes that call, Yuta," you glanced at him. "You cannot speak for me and he's not fired. This wasn't his fault."

"Oh my God, (Y/N)," Yuta rolled his eyes. "Is he fucking you so good that you will defend him?"

You opened your mouth to speak but Yuta raised his hand. "I saw you two kissing the other day. Is this your new hobby? Fucking your bodyguard?"

"My life and who I fuck is none of your business. Get the fuck out of here." You demanded.

"You're coming with me," he grabbed your hand and you groaned letting go off of his grip again. He growled and snapped his fingers. Two big men entered the room and grabbed you by force. You screamed and kicked in the air but it was useless. Donghyuck tried to stand up but it was stopped by Yuta who placed him back on the stretcher gurney, pressing his broken rib making Donghyuck growl in pain. "I'll have to finish your stupid task since you couldnt keep your hands to yourself, asshole."

"Don't you dare to hurt her!" Donghyuck said between teeth, causing Yuta to laugh.

"Please don't tell me you fell for her..." He laughed again. "It's so pathetic. Well, I hope you fucked her good last night because you won't see her again."

And before Donghyuck could stand up again, Yuta injected something through his IV making him dizzy and putting him to sleep. “Sweet dreams.”

After you got home, you slapped Yuta in the face twice. You punched him in his chest a few times and then pushed him. You were crying. “Don’t you ever fucking do that again, do you hear me?!”

He grabbed your wrists, trying to calm down and looked at him. “You should be thanking me.”

“I love him!” You exclaimed, “I don’t care about you. Stay fucking quiet, dont you understand?”

Yuta sighed, frustrated and then glanced at you. “My bodyguards will stay here tonight. You should be safe.”

“Fuck you.”

Yuta ignored you and left your house. You screamed and threw a flagon to the door. You grabbed your purse trying to find your phone to call Donghyuck and realised Yuta had taken it with him. You went to your home office and unlocking a drawer with your fingertip, you pulled out an old iPhone and turned it on.

You frowned as soon as you saw the first notification, an email for Kim Doyoung.

From: KDY

To: (Y/N)

Meet me. We need to talk. It’s important.

You gulped. Why did he want to see? Was he behind the shooting? You certainly couldn’t tell Donghyuck about, what if he ended up dead now?

You sighed and replied to his email.

From: (Y/N)

To: KDY

When and where?

Doyoung replied a couple of seconds later.

From: KDY

To: (Y/N)

Tonight. 11 pm in the place as usual. Go alone.

You placed the phone on the desk and started to think how you would escape. Yuta’s bodyguards were outside your house everywhere.

You’d come up with a plan anytime soon.

Later that day, you were finally able to reach Donghyuck. He was at his place, still recovering from the broken rib but he’ll come back as soon as the sedative was out of his system. You assured him you wanted him in your life and Yuta was not going to be an obstacle to be together.

At night, Yuta visited you again but you refused to leave your room and he gave up leaving. By 10:30 you left your bed and it didn't creak, and when you put your feet on the floor it didn't squeak. You mentally congratulated yourself on the new accomplishment and tiptoed to the door, grabbing his classic black cap on the way out. You went to Donghyuck’s bedroom and you thanked your mom for loving balconies and forcing you to have one in your guest’s bedroom.

With a quick glance to the yard, you climbed down out the balcony, keeping a steady eye on the guard standing next to the yard door. You had never felt so heavy as you slowly moved past, your body barely moving as your feet carried you carefully by. After safely making it out past there, you went to the back door that connected with one of your neighbour Jungwoo

You weren't exactly best friends with him but he wouldn't mind if you used his door. As you got out of his house, you saw a bright light in front of you. You covered your eyes with your arm and squinted your eyes trying to know who was on it. A man dressed in all back wearing a helmet walked to you and you gulped. Was he one of Yuta's men?

The man took off the helmet and you were suddenly breathless. It was Donghyuck. You inhaled deeply and jumped to his arms hugging him tightly. He whined placing a hand on his ribs but hugged you tight with his other arm. "Oh, my God. I'm sorry," you got away from him quickly. "What are you doing here?"

"I knew you would try to sneak out somehow," he told you and cupped your cheek with one hand. "Are you going to see Doyoung?"

"H-how did you know?" You looked at him.

"I just knew he would reach out to you." Donghyuck looked at you. "C'mon, I'll take you there."

When you got the abandoned building, Donghyuck and you went to the roof waiting for Doyoung to show up. You crossed your arms against your chest and sighed. "Do you think he's behind this?"

Donghyuck shook his head. "No."

"Then who?" You looked at him.

Donghyuck remained quiet and admired the city from top. He was going to tell you, but he wasn't ready to watch you break.

"I told you to come alone, (Y/N)." Doyoung reminded you, walking behind you.

You turned and sighed. "I couldn't. Sorry."

"It's okay. I trust him anyways, don't I?" Doyoung glanced at Donghyuck, who just made eye contact with him for a couple of seconds. "Whatever, I'm glad you made it. I heard you were attacked this morning."

You nodded and tugged your hands in the back pockets of your jeans. "Doyoung?"

He hummed without stopping looking at you. You bit your lip, almost trembling and looked at him again. Doyoung frowned. "You think I did it."

"I-I d-don't," you stuttered.

"Do I have reasons to kill you?" Doyoung raised an eyebrow, looking at you.

"Well..." you sighed nervously. "I might have said something I shouldn't have."

"I know." He fixed the sleeves of his suit jacket.

You furrowed your eyebrows. "What?"

"I have people working for me in the government, (Y/N). Of course I'd knew if you would open your mouth."

"But no, I'm not the one behind this. My men slit throats, they don't shoot people. And well, do you see them going after your throat?"

You shook your head. "I'm not gonna lie, I'm a bit disappointed because I like you. You seem like a good woman but I don't like when they open their mouths to shit on me."

"Doyoung, I-"

"Let me finish." He stood in front of you and leaned closer to you. "Were you really going to turn me in?"

You gulped again. Doyoung somehow cornered you against the wall and Donghyuck grabbed his arm tightly. "Don't."

Doyoung glanced at him and a little smirk appeared on his lips. "I didn't believe it when I heard it."

You were confused. Did they know each other?

"I won't turn you in. They needed information and I gave them some, but I would never. Please believe me." You looked at Doyoung.

Doyoung returned his attention to you and smiled. "Why should I believe you?"

"Because I'll make sure of it," Donghyuck spoke first and glanced at you quickly. "Right?"

You nodded rapidly and Doyoung squinted his eyes not breaking eye contact with you. "Fine. And (Y/N)? There won't be a next time. If something like this happens again I'll be the one who slit your throat."

"Now leave before I change my mind and slit both of your throats."

Donghyuck grabbed your hand and left the roof going downstairs. He was walking at a fast pace and you have to almost run to follow his pace. Before getting on the bike, you stood up in front of him. “You know him.” You affirmed.

Donghyuck just sighed and looked at you. “I’ll tell you whatever you need to know, but not now. Get on the bike.”

“I can’t go back to my house. Yuta is being a pain in the ass treating me as if I were some damsel in distress and I can’t take it anymore.”

“You’re not going to your house. You’re going to mine,” Donghyuck kissed you and the feeling that kiss gave you was everything. “I love you, (Y/N).”

You smiled against his lips, feeling the weight of his words sink in, but in a good way. And you were so happy he felt the same way. “I love you, too.”

You two arrived at his apartment and you were surprised by a not that tall man with black hair. He greeted you and introduced himself as Jeno and Donghyuck’s best friend. Jeno was nice and decided to give some privacy excusing himself to his bedroom.

Donghyuck walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge door. “Wanna drink something? Water? Beer? Apple juice?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you said, taking a look at Donghyuck's living room. You noticed the floor was paved with wooden floor and the wall was paved with white bricks. That color made the room bigger. It had a big window facing the street and it had light grey curtains. There was a black sofa with a white glass coffee table. They were very suitable for each other. The living room also had a black TV which was on a square cabinet, some art paintings on the wall and a large white shelf, and on it, there were three frames; a photo of Donghyuck holding a baby.

He walked to you and leaned against the wall in front of you. "Her name is Jiwoo. She's my niece."

You smiled. "Is it the same girl from all these photos?"

"Yeah," he smirked, still leaning against the wall, "she grew up so fast."

"Do you visit her often?" You asked, placing the portrait on its place again.

"Not anymore. My sister decided to move to Jeju and I try to visit as much as I can, but sometimes work won't let me."

"I'm sorry."

"Why?" He frowned.

"You hadn't even been to your place in days because of me," you sighed. "You should take a break and go visit them."

"I'm not leaving you alone during this time." Donghyuck cupped both of your cheeks in his hands and looked into your eyes. "When all of this is over I'm gonna take you so you can meet them."

Your face lighted up with a smile and put your arms around his waist. "You will?"

"It's a promise," he gave you a peck on the nose. "They're gonna love you."

“I’m looking forward to it then,” you smirked and caressed his lower lip with your thumb. “Can we go to bed? I’m exhausted and you need to rest.”

He nodded and kissed you. “Please promise me you won’t stop loving me. Ever.”

You kissed him back, pressing your body against his. “I love you. Forever.”

“Hyuck?” you called, after a pause on chopping some vegetables. “Are you even listening?”

He blinked and shifted his weight to his other foot. He wasn’t.

“I’m sorry, what? I keep getting lost in your eyes.” Donghyuck smiled.

There was a pause in which he could feel you looking at him. And then you relaxed, smiling. “Did I say that out loud?”

You blushed almost up to your ears, causing him to chuckle softly as he passed his fingers over his hair.

“Yes, you did,“ you said, still blushed. Puffing up your cheeks in a bit of a pout you huffed at him. “You just wanted an excuse to make me blush, didn’t you?”

“In fact, the cheek-coloring reaction is a universal human response to social attention. The veins in the face dilate, causing more blood to flow into your cheeks..." Jeno interrupted your moment entering the kitchen. "Sorry, folks, but I'm starving."

You laughed and went back to chop the vegetables. "I'm making Mongolian chicken if you want."

"No idea what's that but it sounds good," Jeno sat next to Donghyuck and winked at him. "So, are you two dating?"

Donghyuck cleared his throat and fixed his shirt. You shrugged, taking the chicken breast out of the fridge. "We fuck and tell each other 'I love you', is that dating?" You looked at Donghyuck.

"You haven't asked her to be your girlfriend?!" Jeno stared at him.

"I'm planning to!" Donghyuck groaned. "Go away, Jeno."

You giggled. "I don't mind, really. We don't have to level it up or whatever."

"Now she's nice. You better keep her." Jeno said.

"If you don't shut up she won't feed you," Donghyuck warned him.

“Why are you sweating, Donghyuck? Are you nervous?” Jeno mocked him.

“Shut up, Jeno!” Donghyuck pushed him.

“Break it up, boys, or neither of you will eat,” you warned them.

After you three finished eating, Jeno went out leaving you two alone again. Donghyuck dragged you with him to the grey couch in the living room and surrounded you with his arms. You could tell he wanted to tell you something, but something was holding him back. You rest your head in the space between his shoulder and his neck and give him a few pecks there. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

"I know," he whispered. "But I'm scared I'm gonna lose you."

"You won't," You looked at him. "Donghyuck? What 's going on?"

Donghyuck sighed and sat up on the couch. "I've been lying to you."

“What do you mean?” You frowned.

“I was hired to kill you.”

[armysantiny]

My WIPS

[Regular = not started, italics = posting soon, bold = working on]

Tiny Teez - Mini Ateez fic series, female reader

Studio Nights, Hongjoong fluff, female reader

He's your ex?!, Wooyoung x gender neutral reader x Yeonjun angst

Leather and Coffee, Minho fluff, male reader

Let's play, your highness, Jake fluff, female reader

Domestic Love, San fluff, female reader

How to keep Enhypen, fluff/humour, female reader, inspired by anime

All that Glitters, oc family x Dream 00 line, fluff, angst,

Cheesecake...Now?, Jisung fluff, male reader

Twilight Cafe ch.2, Ateez x baekhyun, oc, angst, Mafia!au

Pure, Sunoo x Jungwon, angst, yandere au

Beaches, ni-ki x female reader, angst

Invitation to Rapture, enha x gender neutral reader, fantasy, angst, mini-series

Threaded Needle, Taeyong, male reader, fantasy, horror, angst, porcelain collab entry, 12/15, one shot

The Day We Watched It Burn, Haechan x male reader, heavy angst, mild fluff, 15, Carrie inspired, Burn the Stage collab

Pieces of Eight, Ot7 bts one-shot, gender-neutral reader, request

Flowers, Beomgyu, male reader, angst, sad ending, 15

Those who swim, Yuta, female reader, fluff, fantasy au, angst, merman au, 12/15, Normal not Normal collab

Pass the Ball, Yuta, female reader, fluff, minor angst, sports au, college au, PG13,

Favourite Human, Riki fluff, request, gender-neutral reader, PG/PG13

Friends of friends, Heeseung fluff, minor angst, pining, PG13/PG15, female reader, request

Angel, Hyunjin, oc pairing, angst, fluff, PG15/17, college au, good (ish) ending // TEASER

Fleeting Clouds, Ten, male reader, fluff, angst, ambiguous ending, PG13, Cloud Boy collab

A Doctor's Morningstar, Seonghwa, OC character, fluff, angst, fantasy au, doctor au, good ending, PG15, three parts

Baby Tiger, Mark, male reader, PG13, fluff, minor angst, catboy au, university au

Cry For Me, Jimin, female reader, PG15-17, heavy angst, non-idol au

Little One, Yoongi, series, female oc, PG15, fluff, angst, domestic, vampire au

Cheater Hotline, Seonghwa, female reader, angst, fluff, college au, PG15-17

Ateez reaction to s/o covering Libido, gender neutral reader, fluff, comedy, G

Do you have a favourite teacher, Mr Moon?, Kevin, female reader, PG313-15, Kidult universe collab, fluff, angst, elementary teacher!Kevin

Boring, Sunwoo, female reader, PG 15, cliche trope, fluff, hint of angst, high school au

When you call me, Doyoung (nct), female reader, PG 13-15, DAYS inspired, fluff, heavy angst, publisher!Doyoung

When The Devil Smiles, Minho, oc character, 악마판사 style au, PG 15, heavy angst

Love and Chords, Kevin, female reader, collab entry, PG, fluffy, college au, coffessions

Happy Death Day, Yeosang x female reader, series, PG-17, episodic, slow burn, angst, fluff, assassin reader, noona reader

Whiplash, Eric x reader x Sunwoo, female reader, gift for @hvae, PG-13, high-school au, skz mentions, nct mentions, shinee mentions, angst, fluff ending (hopefully), enemies/rivals to lovers, cheating

Apartment No. You, Han Jisung x female reader, PG 13 (could go higher), neighbour au, skz mentions, fluff ending, minor to mild angst

Untitled Sylus x reader drabble, fluff, possibly suggestive, PG 13

Feel free to ask me anything about any of my wips!

[doiefy]

unexpected outcomes // kim doyoung

genre: murder mystery pairing: detective!doyoung x detective!reader (gn.) word count: 678 warnings: language, mentions of murder and blood, there's a dead body

note: just a short headcanon for my series dawn to dusk ;))) @neonun-au @heartshyuck here you go 🥺🥺

4 AM, an Adidas sports bag full of cocaine, and a dead vampire who had his skull brutally smashed in by a baseball bat. The neighbours saw it happen. The two perps took a moment to carve something into the victim’s body. That was about all you could pick up on before you scrambled for the cars—sirens shrieking as half a dozen cruisers dispersed into the streets of Seoul, tires screeching as they made a beeline for the site of the crime.

What sounded like typical gang activity was anything but. Several bodies had already turned up the same way: with some sort of petty crime, anything from drug deals to vandalism, and a bloodied sigil none of your vampire consultants could recognize. Even Doyoung, having spent decades poking around the underground and following the most despicable of vampire groups, had no idea what it meant.

It could only mean that you were wandering into dangerous territory: either about to encounter an organization so ancient that Doyoung’s memory could hardly reach them, or a new, violently-radical group that couldn’t be reasoned with. Either way, the bodies were dropping like flies, and you’d already deduced from the past murders—you didn’t have much time.

“Time of death, about ten minutes ago. Blunt force trauma to the head, and then a knife to the chest. Forensics is still trying to identify the victim,” Taeil announced the moment you arrived, his jaw set and his voice tight with audible apprehension. “All streets within a ten kilometre radius have already been blocked off. I want eyes on all major roads, we’re looking for a Hyundai 2022 VENUE with... gold tire rims and rainbow vinyl wrap, apparently."

"No biggie. A car that flashy? You could see it from halfway across the city," Donghyuck gives a chortle of sarcastic laughter. On any other occasion, the captain would silence him with a warning glance, but at the moment, there are bigger issues at hand.

"We're dealing with some sick psycho bastards, and there might be more than just two of them. Put your best foot forward, detectives."

You were a small squad, so you were spread rather thin: Jaehyun questioning the small group of witnesses on the sidewalk, Mark on security cameras with a police squad, and the rest of you examining the scene. The tarp came off of the body, revealing mangled flesh, a distorted figure, and the rest of the blood you'd already seen seeping out of its container. The same strange sigil was carved into the victim's stomach, and his clothes had been deliberately cut away so that whoever found his body would be able to see it.

"Fucking hell," Doyoung muttered beneath his breath as he snapped on a pair of latex gloves—not disturbed, but visibly frustrated by the sight before him.

"Worse than last time," you said, shaking your head. "It's a mess... they must be getting careless."

"We have his phone!" Donghyuck called, jogging back to join the two of you with a black phone in a clear plastic evidence bag. Fumbling slightly with the plastic covering, he unlocks it to show you its contents. "Look into the call logs, messages, and—"

He froze. His entire face went slack, and his mouth went agape in surprise. And then he shut it, squeezed his eyes shut, clearly trying to refrain from saying something. Or an outward reaction of some kind. A second passed. Another. And then he threw his head back in a hysterical laugh, cackling so loudly that a half dozen officers looked over.

"Donghyuck!" you scolded, trying to silence him before Taeil heard. "What are you—"

"Sorry! Right, dead person! There's a dead person, I shouldn't be laughing—"

"God, what is it?" Doyoung grabbed the phone from him. The words that left him—the words that left your professional, stoic detective vampire boyfriend—they would change your life forever.

His brows furrowed with confusion. "Dr. Eggman, Sonic the Hedgehog and Shadow the Hedgehog; kinky threesome, monster tentacle porn mpreg fantasy. 518000 words by Noobmaster42069 on Archive of Our Own."

EHEHEHHEEHHEHARHAHHAH

based on They died doing what they loved: reading smut by Stanzi lmfao

[neonun-au]

in laudem maleficus | irene

pairing: irene x fem!reader, mark lee x fem!reader cast: red velvet, mark lee (nct) genre: horror, witch au, coven au warnings: character death, murder, lots of blood, suggestive/sexual contents, inaccurate portrayals of modern witchcraft (its horror movie stuff innit) word count: 13k  prompt: witches

for the Unbeleafable Bingo Event hosted by @kconnet​ @starryktown​ and @nctcreations​.​

synopsis: your world is turned upside down when you cross paths with a coven of witches. the enchanting and beautiful leader, full of a quiet rage and power, entices you to join and before you realize you are caught up in their world of magic. 

 “And then Johnny reached over to Doyoung and--” Mark’s voice drones on across from you as you sit staring out the window of the cafe, watching as the golden leaves of autumn drift down on the gentle wind--coating the otherwise grey sidewalk in a blanket of colour. You bring your latte up to take a sip and nod blankly as Mark continues, paying no attention to the story he’s laughing about--no doubt you’ve heard it before.

The same cafe you’ve always visited, in the same town you’ve always lived in, across the table from the same boy who has been at your side for years--first as a friend, now as a lover. On the outside it has been a natural progression. Your family and neighbours look at you and see a young woman following the only path that makes sense for her. The only path that makes sense in this town, full of people living out this preordained future. On the inside, however, you thrash against the lifestyle with a fury.

With a silent scream that drowns out all thought of the dull future you are barrelling towards.

Mark starts to choke, on his laughter and his coffee, jolting you out of your reverie. With a sigh you push his glass over water over to him and watch as his face turns a cherry red. He gathers himself and looks up at you with wide eyes, “I almost died.”

“You’re fine, Mark, just drink some water.”

The frigid fall air hits you as you step outside of the small cafe, tugging your wool coat tighter around your chest. Mark exhales loudly, watching as his breath fogs up the air in front of him, before turning to you, “it’s cold out!”

You nod in response, casting a glance down the nearly empty street, and turn to walk towards your old station wagon before Mark stops you with an insistent hand clasped around your arm, “wait, ______. Look.”

You halt mid-step and follow his line of sight--eyes scanning over the leaf strewn street until you see them. The group of five girls, clad in black and red, walk side by side down the other side of the road towards the cemetery at the end of the street. You stare after them, mouth agape, as they walk further and further away--coats trailing behind them in the cold air.

One of the girls feels your gaze and turns towards you, your breath catches in your throat as the corners of her mouth quirk up in a small grin. Her face is veiled in the shadow cast by her wide-brimmed black hat, but the sight of her turns something in your chest; a small trill of excitement reverberates through your ribcage and spreads out over your skin in a wave.

She turns away and you continue to stare after them until Mark breaks the silence, “wow, they sure are creepy, huh?” He asks, turning to you.

“Um,” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat, “yeah, I guess.” The fluttering of your heart continues long after you've climbed into your car and begun the journey back to Mark’s familiar apartment--the image of her smile lingering in your mind’s eye.

--

Steam bursts up from the pitcher of milk as you hold it under the wand on the espresso machine--heating up your face as it froths to a fine foam. The cafe is busy as usual on a Friday afternoon; regulars and passerbys alike mingling in the small shop, chatting and laughing while they sip on their lattes and cappuccinos. You slide the drink across the counter to the older blonde lady with a customer service smile and turn to wipe down the old espresso machine.

“_____?” Perking up at the sound of your name, you turn towards the sound.

At the till a young woman stands smiling at you. Her pale face shines in the light of the afternoon seeping in through the cafe windows, framed by fine black hair. The image of her in the fading light of the day yesterday flashes into your mind and you watch as she drums blood red fingernails against the countertop.

After a moment she quirks an eyebrow up in curiosity and clears her throat--breaking the spell you’ve found yourself under and you drop the cloth you had been gripping before rushing to the till. “Welcome, I--um,” your words wither under her direct gaze and you inhale a shaky breath before continuing, “how did you know my name?”

With a wry smile she points to the name-tag pinned to your apron and you feel yourself shrivel in embarrassment, releasing a dry laugh in a vain attempt to hide it from her.

“Aren’t you going to take my order?” She asks, suppressing a laugh at your flustered state. No doubt used to the reactions her ethereal beauty garners on a daily basis.

“Oh! O-of course,” you stumble, wiping your palms against your milk-stained apron before tapping at the touchscreen to wake the system, “what can I get for you?”

“Hmm,” she pauses, considering the chalk menu hanging above your head, “what do you recommend?”

“Uh, the caramel macchiato is pretty good if you like sweet things,” you lift your gaze from the screen to judge her reaction, “or if you don’t, you can’t really go wrong with a cappuccino.”

“One of those, then,” she nods, decisive, “a medium.” “Of course, right away,” tapping the order into the screen, she slides the cash over to you and drops the change into the near empty tip jar. “Can I get your name? For the drink?”

“Irene,” she answers, following you along the other side of the counter, watching as you move to the espresso machine and start the process of crafting her drink.

You are keenly aware of her eyes on you--following the movements of your hands, your body--as you go through the familiar motions of grinding the coffee beans and frothing the milk. Something you have done thousands of times before suddenly feels like a brand new endeavour under the heat of her gaze. ‘What is wrong with me?’ you think, scolding yourself in silence as the silver pitcher shakes in your hands.

“What time do you get off?” The question startles you out of your internal monologue and you stare up at her--wide eyed with surprise.

“What?”

“When does your shift end?” She reaffirms her question, slowly, talking over the sound of the hissing steam and endless chatter of the cafe.

“Umm, 5:30…” you answer, pouring the milk foam out into the waiting cup, the white liquid mixes with the brown of the espresso and  you curse your shaking hands as you splatter some of it over the counter.

“Good,” she nods, smiling as you slide the cup across to her, “I will pick you up then.”

Her expression is amused while you stare at her, mouth agape, thoughts crashing around in your mind, “why?” the only question remaining inside the cacophony of your brain.

“Why not?” She laughs, swiping a finger through the foam of the cappuccino and bringing it up to her lips.

“I--” a brief pause, trying to push the words out through the dryness coating your throat, “I’m supposed to meet my boyfriend after work.” Your weekly movie date with Mark flashes into your mind, and you push down the feeling of regret that rises like bile in your throat at the thought.

“You could do that,” she nods, watching you with a knowing smile, “or you could come with me. Up to you.”

You flounder, torn between your sense of loyalty and responsibility as a girlfriend and the strange sense of enticement you feel towards this strange woman. As if she has a center of gravity and you’ve stepped into orbit around her. She watches the flurry of emotions cross your face with amusement, “I’ll be here at 5:30.” It’s a statement, not a question, and all you can do is nod dumbly after her as she turns on her heel to leave.

“Wait!” Noticing the cappuccino left behind on the counter you yell after her, raising the cup towards her.

“Oh,” she says, tilting her head to the side, “I don’t drink coffee.”

Staring after her you watch as she disappears out the front door and walks down the sidewalk until the tails of her long, black coat are finally out of sight.

“Excuse me?” A woman calls impatiently out from in front of the till and you snap to attention--pushing away the image of Irene to the depths of your mind.

--

Not going to be able to make it tonight, something came up

You send the text to Mark, leaning up against the wall of the cafe as you wait for Irene to show, and slip the phone into your bag without waiting for a reply. A black car pulls up to the curb in front of you, windows tinted a dark grey. The momentary urge to run and hide overwhelms your body, seizing your heart in your chest. Anxiety at the thought of being in close proximity to someone who you’ve only just met but who has already made a burning impression in your mind.

The window rolls down and Irene smiles at you from the driver’s seat, “get in.”

With one glance down the deserted sidewalk, you open the door and slide into the passenger seat next to her, “hello.”

“Glad you could join us,” a bright voice calls from the back seat. You spin your head around to see two girls smiling back at you, their long black hair falling like curtains. One of them leans forward and extends a hand for you to take, “Joy.” She offers her name with a wink before sliding back into her seat and gesturing for the other girl to introduce herself.

“Yeri,” she nods towards you with a bright smile, but keeps her hands resting firmly atop her thighs.

“Hi,” you respond, shock at the unexpected company fading from your mind, “_____.”

Irene pulls out onto the road, guiding the car past the few other vehicles dotting the streets. You watch out the window as you pass by Mark’s apartment building. He bobs along the sidewalk towards the lobby, brown bag of take out clasped in his hands, and disappears inside. You resist the urge to laugh at the sight; any other Wednesday you would be walking alongside him with your own bag of food clasped tight in hand.

The car takes a sudden turn down a narrow alleyway and you brace yourself against the dash to keep from slamming into the door. A small, strangled yelp escapes your lips--eliciting a bout of laughter from the backseat.

“You good?” Joy asks, patting your shoulder in mock reassurance. You nod in reply, offering a shaky laugh of your own and adjust your position in the leather seat.

“Where are we going?” The realization dawns on you finally that you know nothing about these girls beyond their names. That maybe ditching your boyfriend of two years because one beautiful woman smiled at you was perhaps a bad idea after all. Maybe, despite the fluttering in your heart when you glance sideways at Irene, you would have been better off rewatching The Goonies in the comfort of Mark’s familiar apartment.

“Just to the farmhouse,” Irene replies, casting you a sideways smile as she accelerates onto the highway out of town. The familiar buildings sink into the horizon behind you as you drive further away from your home and deeper into the unknown. The option of turning back, of asking Irene to just pull over and let you out, disappears along with it.

“Farmhouse?”

“It's abandoned,” Yeri perks up from the back seat, you watch through the rear view mirror as her eyes take on a glint of mischief. “Has been for years. People think it's haunted, so no one really goes out there.”

“Is it?” You ask, swallowing down the last of your lingering nerves and rising to her challenge.

“Is it what?”

“Haunted.”

She laughs, delighted by the shift in tone and shakes her head, “no, it's just us. No ghosts.”

“Not yet, anyway,” Joy adds with a smirk. You spin back to face the front as the car leaves the highway and takes a turn down a gravel road, a cloud of dust looms behind you as Irene drives ahead in silence.

Her eyes remain fixed on the road ahead, expression unreadable. Out of the corner of your eye you study her face as she drives, wondering why exactly she asked you to come as she hasn’t really said more than five words since you got in the car. The cloud of confusion and anxiety gripping your brain is one you haven’t felt since your last high school crush and you try and shake it off by taking in the details of the area around you. The car is void of all personal touches--sleek, black interior to match the sleek, black exterior. The world outside the car, whipping by your windows, is similarly void of anything. Wide, cloud marred blue skies stretch out over endless corn and wheat fields--plowed clean after the fall harvest.

Another sharp turn and Irene drives down a tree-lined driveway towards what you can only assume is the farmhouse. It sits still and empty before you, a dot at the end of the long lane, before looming above you in all of its rundown glory. At one time it would have been white, but over years of neglect and misuse the siding has taken on a distinctly grey tint. A porch wraps around the house like a hug, a few abandoned deck chairs collect dust as they sit on the worn floorboards. There’s a faint glow inside the front window and as you climb out of the passenger seat of the car, you wonder who could possibly be inside.

Joy and Yeri skip ahead to the front door and you wander behind them, startling when Irene suddenly links her arm with yours. “Nervous?” She asks, watching you with a smile.

“No,” you lie, “should I be?”

She laughs, patting your arm, as you walk up the porch step towards the door in tandem. “No, we’re just hanging out.”

“Hey!” A new voice splits through the laughter in the air as you enter and you have to restrain yourself from jumping at the sound. “You came!” Another girl of a similar age bounds towards you, swinging a portable camping lamp in her hand. Her smile is wide and welcoming and you relax at the sight as she comes to a stop in front of you.

“Yeah, umm…” you glance over her, trying to reconcile her familiar greeting with your memory but come up entirely short. “Have we met before?”

“No, no,” she laughs, tossing back her white blonde hair, “I’m Wendy. Irene said you would be coming to join us.”

“Not that we had much say in it.”

“Seulgi…” Irene warns from beside you, tone stern. Seulgi stands up against the far wall of the living room, leaning against the old brick fireplace with a grim expression. Nervousness blooms renewed in your gut as you watch her push away from the wall and give you a once over before reluctantly extending her hand to you.

“Seulgi,” she states her name, before dropping your hand and wandering towards the back wall of the dimly lit room.

“Okay!” Wendy chirps, attempting to diffuse the tension that has seeped into the air around you. “Who wants food?”

Over time the evening sunlight streaming through the dingy windows of the abandoned house dims to a thin veil and you sit in a circle surrounding the only lamp in the house, passing back and forth plates of the snacks that Wendy had brought with her in her old blue cooler bag. You listen and laugh along as Yeri and Joy trade stories of their adventures from their hometowns, and sit enraptured as Irene spins a tale from the time at boarding school where she managed to convince the entire faculty that she had not, in fact, filled the entire teachers lounge with water despite the trail of footprints leading to her dorm room.

The laughter and the stories drag on into the night, and you begin to open up as well. Sharing a story of the time Mark had “accidentally” fallen into the river to get out of gym class.

“Wait, whose Mark?” Yeri asks, face scrunched in confusion.

“Oh, my boyfriend,” you reply, the hesitation in your tone startling you. Why did you feel unsure about that? Nervous, even? You’ve been seeing him for two years, he was undoubtedly your boyfriend. Still, the feeling persists as Yeri makes a mock gagging noise across the circle.

“Boyfriend? Who needs one of those,” she reaches for the last brownie square, leaving a trail of chocolate crumbs on the old oak floor.

“He’s…nice,” you offer a meagre defense in Mark's honour, but she just rolls her eyes causing another peal of laughter to ripple through the circle. You join in, pushing the image of your boyfriend's face to the back of your mind.

The laughter fades after a moment and Irene turns to look out the window as the last light of the day sets beyond the horizon. “Okay girls,” she says, clapping her hands together before rising to stand, “are we ready?”

“Now?” Seulgi asks, speaking for the first time since her curt introduction earlier. She casts you a withering glance before looking back up towards Irene, “with her?”

“Yes, with her. I said I wanted a sixth,” she replies, “she’s perfect.”

Perfect? You think, perfect for what?  Some plan has been concocted in silent whispers out of the range of your hearing, something even you were not privy to but evidently were to be involved in. You rack your brain for any ideas, but nothing comes to mind. No hints or clues offered either during Irene’s introduction to you earlier in the day, or during the hours spent talking with them on the floor of this old house.

The confusion is evident on your face, and Joy leans over to nudge you in the side with her elbow, “you’ll see.” She says with a wink, and the sincerity of her smile softens your nerves momentarily before Irene extends a hand to help you off the floor. You take it, heart hitching in your chest at the feeling of her soft skin against your own, and follow her outside into the field beside the house.

A pile of wood sits a short walk away from the side of the farmhouse, likely scavenged from the surrounding woods and old barn to the back of the house. You watch as Wendy and Yeri toss on a few more planks of plywood before they each strike a match and set the pile ablaze. It burns slowly at first, gentle flames wicking up the sides of the wood, but within the span of a minute the fire burns high into the air--casting an amber glow over the surrounding field and warming your skin to the touch.

You follow behind Irene and Seulgi as they march towards the bonfire. Irene directs you to stand a few feet away from her facing the flames; confusion and curiosity cloud your mind and you comply without thought or protest. The other girls settle similarly in a circle, and you watch each of their faces settle into focused attention, bathed in the orange light, as Irene holds court.

“Sisters, we stand here tonight in the light of the full moon to welcome a new member of the coven, should she choose to accept the ceremony offered.” She turns to you, skin reflecting the flames in front of you and smiles. “Do you accept?”

“I’m sorry,” you start, breaking out of the daze that had been gripping you throughout the night, “what exactly is going on?”

“We’re witches!” Yeri shouts over the flames, tone gleeful as she laughs.

“We want to welcome you into the sisterhood,” Irene confirms, nodding. “Should you want to be a part of it, that is.”

“Witches?” You ask, incredulous, as you stare at Irene--silently begging for more information, for answers. “Why me?”

“Hmm, let’s just say I see something in you,” she grins, cocking her head to the side. You watch the glint of fire in her eyes and feel something twist in your heart at the sight. An excitement that you haven’t felt for years churning inside of you. “Something that maybe you haven’t even seen in yourself yet.”

“What is it?” You ask, breathless.

“We can help you discover that,” she reaches out a hand towards you and you take it, feeling her squeeze your fingers in reassurance and comfort. The knot in your chest tightens again and you breathe in a warm, shaky breath.

It’s all too much, you think to yourself. Days ago you weren’t even aware that these girls lived near you. Between your regular rounds from home, to work, to the corner store, and back again you had never run into them. Your life had been consumed up until this moment with indecision and acceptance. Indecision on where to go, and acceptance that maybe you were better of just staying put in this small town where nothing ever happened, sitting on the couch next to the same boy with whom nothing ever changed, eating the same take out meal for the third time that week.

Now, standing under the moonlight bathed in the amber light of the fire, everything has shifted. Irene’s dark brown eyes bore into yours as she awaits your answer and you feel your world tilting dangerously towards hers--towards her. Like she has taken your center of gravity and grabbed hold of it tightly in her firm grip.

You know that if you said no now, if you left and went back to your life as it was before this, you could right this center. You could return. Any step further towards Irene, towards the possibility there in the palm of her hand will only push you deeper into the unknown. The time for indecision is over.

“Yes,” you say, voice a whisper over the crackling of the wood engulfed in flames, “I accept.”

Her grin broadens and your heart soars at the sight, feeling the knot in your chest dissolve. Out of the corner of your eye you see Seulgi’s mouth set in a tight line, her displeasure at your answer is evident but any concerns that might otherwise have been aroused by the sight are washed away as Irene walks up to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder.

“It is settled, then,” she squeezes you with her arm briefly, tugging you into her side. “We will begin the ceremony.”

A glint of silver shines reflected in the firelight and you watch with wide eyes as Irene pulls a dagger out from a sheath on her thigh. Eyes closed, she reaches forward and thrusts the dagger into the flames--letting it linger a moment before pulling back and making  a small incision on each of her palms. She passes it to Wendy next, and one by one they all follow suit, slicing small incisions into the center of their hands before the dagger makes its way around the circle and is finally outstretched towards you.

Nervous, you wrap your fingers around the hilt, feeling the weight of the metal heavy in your hand as you accept it from Joy. You glance at Irene, uncertainty plain on your face.

“Just a small cut,” she assures, “just enough to let some of the blood flow out.”

With a shaky inhale you point the dagger towards your palm and let it sink into the soft flesh. It stretches at first, molding around the sharp point of the knife and remaining stubbornly unbroken; you apply a little more pressure until finally, with one sharp incision, the skin yields and you see the blood bloom around the silver tip.

Quickly, you do the same to the other and pass the dagger back to Irene. She slides it back into the sheath and holds her hand out towards you, “join hands.” She calls, and everyone closes the circle around the fire--palm to bloodied palm.

“From blood we are made, to blood we end. Join us, heart and soul, together in the bond of sisterhood and let no man nor outside force break it. This life we choose of our own free will, to give out service unto thee, and so it is.”

“And so it is,” the voices join the crackling of the fire, ascending towards the sky, and you feel a wave of chills ripple over your body despite the heat. The fire sparks, growing larger and larger before your eyes before it bursts in flames taller than your bodies--stretching up towards the black of the night. You watch as the shapes formed in the blaze of orange and yellow twist and transform in front of your eyes before the entire fire blinks out in an instant and you’re left standing in moonlight, hand in hand with your new sisters.

“It is done,” Irene confirms, nodding, before dropping your hand. The cold night air hits the wounds like a shock, and you quickly stuff your palms into your pockets for warmth.

“Wicked,” Yeri laughs as she hops over to wrap her arms around you in a tight hug. “Welcome to the club,” her smile is bright, honest; you’re surprised at how much the approval of someone you’ve only met earlier today already sparks a fire of happiness in your heart.

“Yeah,” Joy nods in agreement, clapping her hand on your shoulder, “let’s go get pizza now.”

You linger behind, following slowly as the girls dance back towards the house to gather up their things. Seulgi keeps pace beside you in silence until you’re a few feet from the front porch, she places a firm hand on your arm, stalling you in place. The laughter of the other girls has disappeared behind the front door and you stand in the darkness in front of her piercing gaze.

“We’re sisters now,” she says, tightening her grip on your arm, “so let me give you a word of warning.”

Nerves settle in your throat in a dry lump, blocking any words that might otherwise have come out. You nod, swallowing hard.

“Don’t get too invested in Irene,” she says, her tone is serious and painted with years of knowledge and information. A stark contrast to your bright naivety of your new acquaintance. “She’s beautiful, but she’s dangerous.”

The front door swings open and light from the lamp floods out over your bodies. Seulgi drops her hand from your arm and you follow her line of sight to see Irene standing in the doorway. “_____,” she calls out to you and you can already feel yourself leaning away from Seulgi and towards her--warning entirely forgotten. “Are you coming?”

You nod and head up the steps towards the house, feeling the heat of Seulgi’s gaze as it bores into your back.

--

“Where were you last night?” Mark asks through a mouthful of fried chicken as you sit splayed out on your living room couch. The Goonies plays on the TV for the millionth time--the sounds of the young actors shrieking and laughing creating a bizarre soundscape in the apartment. “You never replied to my texts.”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot to check my phone,” you respond, staring unfocused at the screen in front of you. “I was out with friends.”

“Friends?” He asks, face screwed up in confusion. “Who? You never hang out with anyone except me,” he lets out a small peal of laughter but the accusation sinks into your chest bitterly. He wasn’t wrong. Before Irene, you really only ever saw Mark outside of work and the rest of the time was spent either avoiding phone calls from your mom, or sitting along and rewatching the same tv shows in silence--wishing you were somewhere else.

“They’re new friends,” you say, curt, and he raises his hands up in defense.

“Alright, alright, I believe you,” he laughs, reaching for the last drumstick in the box before you have a chance to take it. “So what are we doing tonight?”

“Oh, I was going to hang out with them again tonight, actually…” you watch Mark out of the corner of your eye as glances at you in completely unveiled confusion. His face is an open book as always.

“Is this gonna be like an every night kind of thing?”

“And so what if it is?” You bite back, bristling at his tone.

“I dunno,” he mumbles, casting you a weary glance, “you’re my girlfriend, shouldn’t we like...be together?”

No, the thought comes automatically. Hitting you like a freight train of realization--maybe you’re only still with Mark because it's easier. Easier to remain, to keep the status quo, than to branch out on your own. Irene’s face swims up in your vision--her deep brown eyes, the delicate line of her jaw, the ruby red lips. Your chest tightens at the image, fingers tingling with the memory of her hand in yours. Mark is easy, comfortable--familiar--but Irene represents to much possibility, so much excitement.

You watch his soft brown eyes as they search your own for your response and you swallow the thought down, “we’re always together, Mark. Me having friends to hang out with now isn’t going to change that.”

“Alright,” he nods, taking another bite off his drumstick, “I’ll see if Johnny’s got any plans.”

--

“Okay, now just concentrate,” Irene's voice floats into your hearing and you narrow your gaze on the flickering flame of the candle in front of you. A sharp pain sits in the back of your dry eyes--sore from time spent sitting focused on this one small spark of light in front of you. “Think about how you want the flame to extinguish. Imagine it blinking out of existence.”

You nod your understanding, and call the image up in your mind. A yellow light, there once second and gone the next in a small cloud of grey smoke. You can see the smoke rising from the wick of the candle, twisting in the air for a moment before dissipating entirely. The candlelight in front of you flickers again, and you try to match the images together.

“It’s never going to happen at this rate,” Yeri groans from the corner, breaking your concentration.

“It will,” Irene reassures you, ignoring Yeri’s protests. “Concentrate, ______, I believe in you.”

With a deep inhale, you refocus your gaze, conjuring the image back into your mind’s eye. The image of a flameless candle. You can feel a gentle throbbing through your veins, a tingling of power running in your bloodstream and itching at the tips of your fingers. You exhale, ignoring the pain in your eyes, and stare at the flame.

In the blink of an eye, it disappears.

“Holy shit,” Joy remarks, impressed, as the thin trail of black smoke winds up from the wick where the flame has been blinked out. “She did it.”

“Finally!” Yeri shouts gleefully towards the ceiling. “Can we go get dinner now?”

“I brought snacks, you ingrate, eat them,” Wendy nudges Yeri in the side, gesturing to the tupperware containers littered over the wood flooring.

“I’m tired of your healthy snacks, I want a hamburger.”

Their bickering voices fade to a dull thrum around you as you stare at the candle in shock. I actually did it, you think, wonder coursing through your body. What else can I do? If it was possible to extinguish a flame with only a thought, was it also possible to start a fire? What else were you capable of? What were they capable of?

Irene tugs you to your feet, her smile bright and beaming with life, “well done.” She says, squeezing your hand, “I knew you could do it.” The praise and assurance in her voice bathes you in warmth and you return her smile gratefully.

“Irene,” Seulgi calls out through the fog surrounding you, drawing your attention back to the room you’re still standing in. “Are we going?”

She nods, “you guys go ahead, we’ll meet up with you later.” Irene glances towards you, fastening you to the spot as the others trickle out of the farmhouse towards Wendy’s car. The red glow of the taillights disappear down the driveway and you’re left alone with Irene--her fingers still softly intertwined with yours.

“You know why you’re here, right?” She asks, directing your attention from the feeling of her hand in yours and up to meet her eyes.

“No,” you reply, voice soft as if anything louder than a whisper might break whatever spell she has you under.

“Because you and I are the same,” she replies, bringing her hand up to brush a wayward strand of hair from your forehead. The tips of her fingers leave a trail of sparks across your skin and you think you see the moon in her eyes. “You have so much power inside of you, _____, you just have to trust it.”

“How,” your voice breaks and you hesitate, swallowing the lump of nerves in your throat. “How do you know that?”

“I can see it, it’s in your eyes,” she traces a finger over your jawline--slowly, deliberately. You feel the blood rushing to your head, clouding your thoughts as you bask in her unwavering gaze. “I can feel it humming here.” She drops her hand, letting it rest over your thundering heart and you feel pulled towards her. Drawn in by some magnetic force. She leans forward, lips brushing against yours softly at first--exploring. She tastes like honey and wine and you lean in for more, eager to feel her arms around you.

A sound calls out through the haze you’re in, an insistent buzzing inside of your pocket. Irene pulls back, bemused smirk playing on her lips as you groan and pull your phone out to check the message.

Hey, you’ll never guess what Johnny said today! Are you home? I’m bringing chicken

“The boyfriend?” She asks and you nod in confirmation, a sigh escaping your lips. “You can do better than him, you know.” She asserts before gathering her bags and heading towards the door, a glance cast over her shoulder indicating your should follow.

The car rumbles down the rural gravel road in the dark, headlights illuminating the empty space ahead as you drive back towards town. Irene keeps her eyes trained on the road as she drives; you watch her profile shift in the dim light, the taste of her still fresh on your tongue.

“Irene,” you start, breaking the silence, “how long have you been doing…all of this?”

“What,” she asks with a laugh, “witchcraft?”

“Yeah, that.”

She hums, considering her answer, “I could say forever. It's always been there, as it is for most people. It’s in the maternal ancestry for millennia.” You nod, waiting for her to continue, “but really, I’ve been practising the craft for about five years.”

“Why did you start?” Curiosity weaves through your thoughts; you want to know more about her. Everything. Her history, her hopes, her dreams. You want to sink into her thoughts and dance through her words. The taste of her lips on yours awoke a desire that had long been asleep inside of you and now you were drunk with the yearning to chase it to whatever end.

“Power,” she responds, simply. One word that holds so much weight--the dreams of so many trapped in 5 letters. “Power and agency. You grow up in this world as a woman, surrounded by men who tell you you will never be anything more than what your looks have to offer them, and you begin to believe it. You feel, maybe they’re right. Maybe all I am is beauty.”

The car pulls off the rural road and onto the highway, the lights of town rise up in the night sky before you as you drive ever closer. You want to tell her to pull over, to park on the side of the road and sit with you for a minute--for an hour, for a day. Forever.

Instead you listen, hanging on to every word she speaks as if it holds the secrets to unlock her soul. “But it’s all a lie. Beauty is a construct created by those very men to diminish us, to keep us small and obedient. I’m tired of being obedient. All men have ever done is disappoint me. Fathers, teachers, brothers--they have this birthright of power just given to them and what do they do with it? Nothing. They waste it away and only ever use it to bend us to their will. But they don’t know what we’re capable of, when we cast aside their lies. We can hold the same power.”

A chill creeps in the car, running down your spine as she speaks--her words carefully chosen and sharpened over years of determination.

“You know what I mean, right?” She asks suddenly, glancing at you through the darkness, “you’ve felt it as well.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “I have.” Years spent following your father’s orders, following Mark’s dreams, standing in the shadows and being a passive player in your own life rise up before you now like a mirror. Staring you in the face in the glow of wasted potential.

“See?” She says, smirk playing on the corner of her lips, “I told you--we’re the same.” Your phone buzzes in your pocket again, the same insistent tone, but you ignore it. “And this boyfriend of yours--”

“Mark.”

“Mark,” she hums his name like a curse, “you know he’s the same. He might not be a bad person, but it’s only a matter of time. A matter of time until the disappointment sinks in.”

It already has, you think, staring out the passenger window as Irene winds the car through the streets of town.

--

Days bleed into weeks and you find yourself spending more and more of your free time at the old farmhouse. Time spent practising your new craft as well as just revelling in the company of your new friends--in the lightness they bring into your world. Your days take on a new life, no longer grey and monotonous, but colourful and filled with laughter and the company of people with whom you feel you finally belong.

And there, standing in the middle of everything like a lighthouse at sea, stands Irene--vibrant and humming with life. The topic of the kiss is never broached but it lies there between you, dormant and waiting in the tips of your fingers. Every brush of skin on skin is a reminder. Her hand as it lands on your thigh during a ritual, your eyes on hers as you watch her through flames. Every breath is a reminder.

Irene shines through your life, illuminating the dull grey that used to surround you. You soak in every moment spent with her, basking in it and praying for eternity. The grey swims back in, inevitably, when you go back home. Laying in bed next to Mark, you imagine her there. Focusing the image until his hands grow slender and fine--they’re no longer his lips on your skin, they’re Irene’s.

The air in the farmhouse is sweltering as you lay in a puddle on the floor, fanning yourself with an old newspaper. Fall temperatures were set to hit an all time high this week and you were dreading it.

Yeri flops down on the floor next to you, leaning over to catch some of the breeze from your makeshift fan. “Just kill me now, please,” she groans, wiping a bead of sweat off her forehead.

“Too much effort,” you reply, adjusting the newspaper so the wind hits both of your faces.

“I’ll kill you if it means it’ll stop this goddamn heatwave,” Joy sits propped up against the far wall of the living room, directly under the open window in a vain attempt at catching whatever breeze might blow through the windows.

“That might work,” Irene comments, raising her eyes from the old tome she's been pouring over for the past hour in relative silence.

“Ha, funny,” Yeri sticks her tongue out at the older girl and pushes herself off the floorboards with a groan.

“Okay, maybe we won’t kill you, but I’ve been doing a lot of research and it seems like the key to unlocking our full potential as witches is a human sacrifice.”

“Will that stop the heatwave?” Joy asks through a mouthful of ice water.

“It might, we’ll be pretty unstoppable at that point.” She shrugs, turning to the next page.

“Irene,” Seulgi’s voice cuts through the haze of heat in the room--stern and cold. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?”

“That’s murder.”

“Only by today’s standards,” she responds lightly and you sit up to evaluate her expression. Alarm at the proposition ringing through your body. Irene shrugs off Seulgi’s concern and shuts the cover of the book, meeting her gaze. You sit up, straightening your posture, and watch as they glare daggers at each other from across the room.

“And what other standards should we be living by then?” Seulgi deadpans, not backing down from the challenge presented in Irene’s eyes.

“Our own,” she responds simply, as if it needs no further explanation.

You glance around the room, apart from Seulgi everyone sits relaxed and passive on the floor of the old house--no sense of tension or shock painting their faces, no change in the atmosphere. Your eyes drift back to Irene as she sits, expression serious and calculating, and taps a finger against the leather cover of the book in front of her. Yeri yawns and stretches against the oak floor, fanning herself lazily with her hand as the staredown continues. The dissonant atmosphere builds a knot of tension in your stomach. You can feel yourself holding your breath, but cannot force yourself to release it, so you sit still and listen.

“And what exactly are ‘our’ standards, Irene? Murder? Are we throwing away morality entirely in the pursuit of power?”

“Our standards,” Irene narrows her gaze at Seulgi, voice shooting poisoned daggers, “are what we make them. Nothing is gained but through sacrifice, Seulgi, be that our sacrifice or someone else's.”

“It’s not sacrifice, it’s murder,” Seulgi drops her gaze from Irenes, looking around the room for help--any help--but everyone remains silent. Unbothered. She meets your gaze last, brown eyes boring into yours, demanding you speak up. “_____, do you condone this? Murder?”

“I mean....it’s all hypothetical isn’t it?” You reply, voice shaking ever so slightly. The heat of the day has all but disappeared from your thoughts as you sit trapped between two opposing forces. “We aren’t really going to kill anyone, it’s just...talk.” Your eyes drift over to Irene, tracing up over her chest, her neck, the delicate curve of her jaw. You meet her gaze and the cold stare softens, a slight upturn at the corners of her mouth. The tense knot in your stomach loosens and dissolves into the heat of the day.

“Of course,” she says, “it’s just all hypothetical.”

The heat of the week dissipates slowly, bleeding back into a more seasonal autumn chill, and with it goes all mention of the tense conversation in the farmhouse. The days pass as they had before and you begin to wonder if you hadn’t just imagined the entire exchange. It’s never brought up again, by either Seulgi or Irene, so you slip back into normalcy--practising spells and enchantments with Yeri, learning herbalism with Wendy, and ignoring the way your heart lurches towards Irene everytime her skin brushes over your own.

--

The scent of cinnamon and nutmeg dance through the air in the kitchen of your small apartment, bathing you in the scent of winter and warmth. You lean over the pot of mulled wine and inhale deeply, savouring the way it seeps into your senses. Keys turn in the door, jangling your attention free from the constant stirring and you look up as Mark steps in--shaking some snowflakes free from his wind blown hair.

“Wow, it smells good in here,” he exclaims, tossing his coat across the couch and coming up behind you--resting his chin on your shoulder as he watches you stir the concoction. “What are you making?”

“Mulled wine,” you state, shaking him off your shoulder to grab another stick of cinnamon from the cupboard, “Wendy gave me the recipe.”

“Oh,” his face twists into a scowl. “Is Wendy one of those girls you’ve been hanging out with?”

“Yes,” you rest the wooden spoon on top of the pot, “why?”

“I don’t know,” he drawls, running his hand down your arm, “they’re kind of...weird, aren’t they?”

“How so?” Levelling him with the most intimidating stare you can muster, you shake him off and cross your arms--ready to pounce on whatever judgement he is forming in his mind.

“They’re kind of creepy,” noticing the anger brewing behind the glare he steels himself for an argument and persists, “all they do is wander around dressed in black and hang out in the cemetery. That’s weird, isn’t it?”

“What so it’s a crime to wear black now?”

“No, it's not just that,” he affirms, expression still twisted in a cocktail of confusion and frustration as he tries to find the words to express his thoughts, “it’s...well everything. And all you do now is hang out with them, it's like I never see you.”

“Oh, well excuse me for finding people that like me,” you toss your hands up, releasing some of the steam that had been building up inside of you, “excuse me for not catering to you 24/7.”

“That’s not what I--” Mark stutters, eyes widening as you cut him off with a jab to the chest.

“I know what you mean, Mark Lee, we’ve been dating for almost two years now, you’re not that hard to read,” he watches silently as you continue on your tirade, finally spilling free all the thoughts that had been brewing in your mind over the past few months. “You were so used to me not having any sort of social life outside of our relationship, and now that I have actual friends, you’re jealous. You can’t stand the thought of my independence. It’s why you got me the job at the cafe, to keep me in this town. It’s why you’re now trying to guilt trip me into ditching my friends, trying to make me think that they’re these strange, dangerous people. It’s all so that you can pad your ego and pretend like everything is perfect.”

“Hey, I never forced you to stay here,” he rebuts your accusation but you’re too heated to hear him. Irene’s words float through your mind, mingling with your own repressed frustrations and bringing everything to a boil. Mark shudders

“Guess what Mark? It’s not perfect,” you continue, anger sharpening to a knife point--not noticing as the kitchen lights flicker overhead, “I’m sick of just being the girlfriend or the barista. I’m tired of only being noticed in relation to you and your life.”

“_____--” Mark warns, watching your fury burst in front of him like a flame--a bonfire of anger directed towards him. He cowers under your ire, watching as the ceiling lights strobe on and off as you stalk towards him across the vinyl floor.

“You know what, Mark?” You take a heavy step towards him, lifting a finger in accusation, “I’m sick of this.”

The lights hum and buzz with energy, flickering on and off, on and off.

“And I’m sick of you.”

One final buzz, the lights spark to a brilliant brightness, blinding, for a brief moment before with a loud snap the bulbs break and rain down on you in a shower of glass.

“Fuck,” Mark yells, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair, “I don’t know what going on _____, but this is insane!”

Mark races out of the apartment, leaving you behind in the dark. Limbs shaking from adrenaline and fear.  

--

Irene opens the door to her house, eyeing you curiously as you stand on her doorstep. Eyes wide, hands still shaking in the aftermath of the fight--the sound of the light bulb smashing resounding through your skull.

“Irene…”

She shushes you with a shake of her head, opening the door wider and ushering you inside.

Irene slides a mug of tea towards you and you take it gratefully in your shaking hands--relishing the warmth seeping out through the ceramic and soothing your nerves. She sits next to you on the small velvet loveseat, resting a hand on your thigh in comfort. “What happened?”

“We had a fight,” you mumble, eyes fixed on the steam as it curls out from your mug--swirling in the air before you.

“You and Mark?”

You nod and take a sip of the tea, allowing the taste of the herbal mixture to envelop your senses.

“About what?”

“You were right,” you turn to her, meeting her dark brown gaze, noting the small shift in her expression from concern to knowing. A flicker of triumph alights in her eyes. “You were right about him, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t know me,” with a sigh you take another sip of the warm liquid, “not anymore…”

“Of course he doesn’t, how could he possibly ever understand?” She takes the mug from you, setting it down on the coffee table before taking your hands in her own--her thumb rubbing small circles over your skin--and tugs you to stand in front of her. “He was made for a simple life. Made for monotony and to get married and have children and die a boring death. A life that will never be remembered for anything greater,” the candles on her alter flicker to life as she pierces you with her gaze. You hands prickle and spark in her grasp and you stand transfixed, watching as her eyes burn with unspoken magic.

“How could he know the potential we hold,” her grip on your hands tighten and you lean in, feeling your own energy condense into the space between you. “The potential you hold.”

“Irene,” you mouth, breathless in the vacuum of time surrounding you, “what’s happening to me?” She takes a step forward, forcing you back against the wall of her apartment. Her dark gaze bores into your own and she brings a hand up to run her finger down the side of your face, dragging it down the soft skin of your neck and bringing her palm to rest at the base of your clavicle. A shiver runs down your spine and you inhale sharply, skin prickling under her touch. She moves closer to you, leaning in until your bodies are almost flush against each other.

“It's the power that courses through your veins,” she says, eyes hooded and dark as she presses you up against the wall. “Can’t you feel it? Thrumming through you. Don’t you feel…” Irene traces a finger down your bare arm as she speaks, eyes never leaving yours, “alive with it? Intoxicated? Don’t you feel like you could do anything, be anything,” you swallow loudly, trying to hide the pounding of your heart against your chest as she leans in closer to whisper in your ear. “Don’t you feel like you could have anything you desire?”

You nod, head clouded with the scent of her so close to you, and she smiles against your ear. A small movement, almost imperceptible. The next moment you feel her lips on yours, sweet and salty, the taste of her flowing through your veins--creeping under your skin and making its home in your mouth. You move with her, hungry for more, hands coming to rest at her waist as she pushes you harder against the wall, “what do you desire?” she murmurs against you, the heat of her body intermingling with your own.

Your answer comes out in a guttural moan as she presses a trail of kisses down your neck--allowing her hands to slip under the hem of your shirt. Warm flesh against warm flesh, fingertips dancing over the heat of your skin, daring lower and lower with each agonizing second until you feel her tugging at your waist band.

Heat pools in the pit of your stomach, and you writhe against the wall as Irene slides down to her knees in front of you.

"Tell me what you desire," she commands, dark eyes fixated on yours with an intensity that both excites and scares you.

You inhale, steeling yourself against her unwavering gaze, and meet her eyes with your own determined stare, "you."

In a flash of movement she slides off your clothes, burying herself between your legs. The pressure builds slowly, intensely as she moves beneath you--lips and tongue ravenous against your core. You tangle your fingers in her dark hair, losing yourself to the feeling of the moment--to the feeling of her between your thighs. If it weren't for the wall supporting your body, you would be on the ground in seconds.

She slides a hand up the front of your shirt as she continues kissing and nipping at the soft flesh of your inner thighs, you let your head fall back against the wall with a thud--thoughts leaving entirely as she wraps herself around you. Fills you with the intoxicating feel of her mouth--warm breath against warmer flesh.

She loses herself in you and the pressure builds; twisting and churning in your guts as she moves below you, deft fingers and tongue. The flames of the candles flicker and spark with the force of the energy building between you, stirring in the air, but you pay them no mind--lost to the feel of her. “Irene,” her name a prayer on your lips. The intensity grows, stretching the fabric of your sanity until the bubble bursts and you come undone.

The flames are snuffed out and you lean panting against the wall. Irene plants a trail of soft kisses up your bare arm as she stands, dotting them up your neck and the side of your face until finally her lips meet your own. The taste of you on her lips and tongue mingling with her own heady flavour--that same honey and wine. “We could be so much more,” she whispers against your lips, her thin frame leaning hard against yours as she catches her breath.

“Okay,” you agree, nodding. Thoughts swirling through your mind in a drunken haze.

“You want it too?” The hint of triumph is back, lighting her eyes from within--a cool glow in the depths of brown.

“I do,” you nod, mesmerized. “I want...all of it.” A smile stretches across her features, sending a chill rippling across your entire body.

--

Candlelight glows amber against the bare walls of the house, casting shadows around the room as you sit cross-legged on the floor, still vibrating with the rush of adrenaline.

A car pulls up in the driveway and you wait in silence with Irene as everyone else spills into the farmhouse, half delirious with sleep. “Irene, what’s going on?” Seulgi asks, slipping her coat off and taking a seat on the floor across from you. Joy, Yeri, and Wendy follow suit until you’re all in the same familiar formation that you have found yourself in over the past months together.

Irene waits for the chatter to die down, for silence to overtake the room once more, before she speaks. “What has always been our goal, since starting this coven?”

“Umm,” Yeri hums, eager to give an answer, “sisterhood?”

Irene smiles, “partly.”

“Just tell us, Irene, clearly you have the answer in your mind.” Seulgi states, a hint of frustration painting her tone with every syllable.

“Power,” Irene ignores Seulgi’s scowl and continues, “to unlock our full potential.”

“Our potential for what, exactly?” You feel yourself caught again as Irene and Seulgi glare each other down, both determined to see their end through. Ears piqued with interest, you listen and watch as the conversation builds to an argument.

“That’s the thing, Seulgi. The potential is unlimited--if we can truly unlock it, we’ll be unstoppable.”

“Is power alone really a goal? Shouldn’t you have an idea of what you want to do with it? Otherwise you end up just like those men that you so love to separate yourself from.”

“Power is the ultimate goal,” Irene affirms, leaning forward, long hair falling in waves around her. “To whatever end. Power is freedom.”

Seulgi’s scowl deepens, the whispers of Irene’s implications settle into the knots in her brow. Joy clears her throat, voice slicing through the tension, “but how are we supposed to unlock that potential?”

“Sacrifice,” Irene grins, pleased with the question. The air in the room tightens, you can see Wendy and Seulgi’s shoulders tense at the word--at the images brought forth in their mind’s eye.

“I’m not going to be a party to murder,” Seulgi states, breaking the circle and standing over you. Her lips are set in determination but the glint of pleading in her eyes does not go unnoticed by you. “That’s what this is, Irene. It’s murder. No one is willingly going to sacrifice themself for you.”

“The sacrifice doesn’t need to be willing,” Irene shrugs.

“And if it doesn’t work? If you kill someone and nothing changes? These spells are old, Irene, but not foolproof.”

“It will work.”

“How can you be sure of that?” Selgi asks, leaning further towards the door with every word.

“Are you leaving?” Irene asks, voice flat and void of any emotion.

“If you are seriously thinking about doing this, then yes. I am not going to stand by and watch this happen.”

“You know, back in the old days when a witch would betray her coven,” Irene stands to face Seulgi, taking a step forward as Seulgi moves one back, “they would kill her.”

She grabs her coat from the floor in a rush, turning with one last glare, “it’s the 21st century, Irene.” She states, opening the front door, keys in hand. “And if any of you know what’s good for you,” Seulgi turns her attention to Wendy, who avoids meeting her glance, “you won’t let her do this. You won’t be a part of it.”

The door closes and the room is once again cast in a veil of silence--broken only by the distant noise of Seulgi’s vehicle as it roars to life and crunches over the gravel driveway as she leaves.

“What do we do now?” Wendy asks, her voice a whisper.

“We proceed,” Irene sighs, sitting back down and reforming the circle. You all shift in kind, swallowing up the spot where Seulgi had been sitting. “Unless anyone else has any objections?”

Nervous eyes glance around the room for a moment before Yeri deins to speak, “unlimited power?” She asks, eyes lit by the fire of curiosity.

“Unlimited,” Irene confirms with a nod.

“Who are we sacrificing?”

--

“Where are we going?” Mark asks, uncertainty lacing his voice with nerves, as you lead him by the hand towards the abandoned farmhouse beyond the trees.

“You’ll see,” you laugh, tightening your grip on him as he stumbles along behind you, footprints trailing through the thin sheet of snow on the ground. “It’s an adventure Mark, calm down.”

“O-okay,” he swallows his fear. It had taken very little convincing to get him to follow you out here. One brief apology over coffee, one chaste kiss, and he was back at your side like nothing had happened. His fear of change outweighs any sense of self-preservation; he was, as always, a creature of habit. A habit that once was leading him towards a banal future of days bleeding into endless days, now leads him towards certain destruction.

You flash him a smile in the dark as the trees give way to an open field, the farmhouse in the middle alight from within by the glow of hundreds of candles. The chimney bellows with smoke from the flames currently burning in the fireplace.

“Are you sure we’re allowed out here?” He asks, stopping you midstep with a gentle tug.

You spin to face him, hiding the annoyance in your eyes behind a veil of sympathy. “Mark, it’s fine,” you bring your hands to his shoulders, rubbing small comforting circles with the palms of your hands and the tension in his body melts at the familiar touch. “Live a little, will you?”

He nods, still uncertain and you offer him a small smile, “if you’re that afraid, we can go back home.”

“No,” he responds quickly, feeding into the challenge you had presented knowing he would fall right into it, “it’s fine. I’m not scared.”

“Good,” you grin, planting a small kiss on his cheek. “There’s absolutely nothing to be afraid of, it’s just an old farmhouse.”

Mark nods again, the fear in his eyes still present but his mouth is set in a tight line of determination. You smile at the sight and tug him along behind you, stepping ever closer towards the abandoned building. The planks of the old wrap-around porch creak and groan under the weight of your bodies when you step foot on them and Mark winces at the noise, timid.

You hear Mark breathing beside you, shaky and unsure, as you step towards the front door; stepping out of the way, gesturing for Mark to open it. His fingers clasp onto the cold metal door handle at the exact moment that the door is flung open wide by Joy. She shoots him a devilish grin as you plant yourself behind Mark and shove him through the entryway.

“Hey!” He yells, confusion a vice grip around his throat. His eyes fly open wide in a panicked daze as he thrashes out against the arms encircling him. With a yell, Wendy brings the pan she was yielding down hard on the top of Marks head. His eyes widen for a moment before he slumps against you unconscious.

“Get him on the table,” Irene orders as she stands in front of the fireplace--bathed in the glow of the flames.

The four of you do as she says, hoisting Mark up by his limbs and dropping him with a dull thud on top of the old kitchen table.

“God he’s heavy,” Yeri pants as she lets go of his right leg, rubbing her hands dramatically over the front of her dress as if to bring some circulation back into them.

“Tie him down,” Irene commands, handing you a length of rope. You wind it tightly around his arm, following Joy’s instructions as to how to knot it to keep him in place. Consciousness slowly begins to return to the boy and he tugs and squirms against the chafing ropes on his skin.

“____, what’s going on? What are you doing?” He begs for an answer. A twinge of guilt plucks at your heart as you look down at him, lying helpless and cold on the table--his shirt having been torn unceremoniously off in the process of tying him down.

“Mark, it’ll only be worse if you struggle,” you say, a small platitude offered with the last remaining drop of your compassion. He pays it no heed and continues to writhe and pull against the restraints, but Joy’s technique holds him fastened tight to the wooden farm table.

“Shouldn’t we like...sedate him or something?” Yeri asks, standing a few feet away from Mark, an expression of mingled concern and disgust painting her delicate features. “I mean, won’t people hear the screaming?”

“Screaming?” Mark asks, wide eyed and unfocused, body stilling for a brief moment as he whips his head around the room. “______, please tell me this is all some sort of prank, please.”

You refuse to meet his gaze, watching instead as Irene unsheathes the ceremonial dagger--sharpened to a thin edge for the occasion. “We can’t sedate him,” she says, matter of fact, “it will mess with the ritual.” She makes her way to the edge of the table, drawing the dagger over the air above Mark’s heaving chest--a pattern of symbols in the air. She repeats the pattern three times, a quiet mantra on her lips, as you watch. The light of the candles bounces off her skin and casts her in a mesmerizing glow--you find your eyes tracing the curves of her face, the gentle slope of her neck, while Mark tries desperately to pull your attention down towards him.

“______, please…” he breathes, pleading. Irene lowers the dagger, placing it on the table so the tip just barely juts into Mark’s bare skin, she gestures for everyone to form a circle around him and reaches out her hand towards you, interlocking your fingers with a smile. The rest of the girls link hands and with a deep breath you feel the thrum of power in your fingertips--winding around and through you like a ribbon.

“We invoke the strength of our mothers, and of our mother’s mothers, and of our mother’s mother’s mothers as far back as the lineage goes. We call upon them to bolster this blade and steady thy hand--to aim it straight and true. To loose the reins and bring our power to its full potential. So mote it be.”

“No,” Mark cries, panic escaping his eyes in a few salted tears that cling onto his reddened cheeks.

“So mote it be,” you repeat with Wendy, Yeri, and Joy. Your hands fall back to your sides and Irene picks up the cold dagger from the table, weighing it in her palm for a moment before raising it high above Mark.  

The dagger plunges down into Mark’s bare chest and you watch as his mouth opens in a silent scream--eyes flashing to you, helpless and wide like a deer on the highway in the headlights of an incoming semi truck.

He knows that it's the end and is powerless to stop it.

Irene rips the dagger out and along with it comes a spray of bright red blood. It splatters over the stark white walls and beige furniture, a pop of colour against the monotony of the room. She smiles and hands the dagger to you--a rite of passage. You wrap your fingers around the silver handle and take a step towards his body, hands shaking with rage and power. Lifetimes of agency denied bolstering you in this moment--ancestry lifting your arm in the air and bringing it down again and again to sink into his yielding flesh.

The vacuum is gone and you can hear the screams now.

They pierce through the veil and settle in your eardrums, shaking the walls of the room with the sound and you can see Yeri and Wendy cringing at the deafening noise.

“Will someone shut him up, please?” Wendy cries, bringing her hands up to block out the boy’s wailing.

Joy rolls her eyes, unwinding the scarf from around her neck and thrusting the fabric into Mark’s mouth as he writhes on the table against his restraints. Blood floods out from the wounds on his chest and pools on the surface below him, staining the marble with red and dripping down onto the floor below. Joy and Wendy lean forward, silver thrift store chalices in hand, and collect some of liquid before it can hit the tile.

Irene reaches out to steady your hand before you can sink the knife into his chest once more. “Enough,” she says, levelling you with her steady gaze, “look.”

You lower your hand to your side, letting the dagger clatter to the hardwood floor. Following the other girls’ line of sight you look at Mark. Watching as his frantic writhing and wriggling comes slowly to halt. Watching as his breathing becomes laboured and heavy--as each inhalation wracks his body of any energy remaining in his pathetic frame.

Watching as the light fades from his eyes.

Silence descends on the room as the six of you stand in a circle around him, eyes trained on his lifeless face for a brief moment. Your chest heaves up and down from the exertion of thrusting a knife into his chest multiple times--but you feel alive. The adrenaline courses through your body, sending wave after wave of euphoria into your brain. A wide grin breaks out over your face and you turn to face Irene.

She looks at you in satisfaction, lifting her hand to brush a speckle of blood from the corner of your lips. Leaning forward, you capture her in a hungry kiss; wanting to taste her flesh against the metallic tang of blood on your mouth. She cradles your face in her hands as you move together in bliss--lust and adrenaline mingling in an intoxicating cocktail of emotion.

You pull away from Irene with a start as Yeri breaks the silence.

Her light, high laughter trills through the room--reverberating off the white walls and intensifying the headiness of the situation. Looking down at Mark’s lifeless body, you feel it bubble up in your chest, threatening to break loose. One look at Joy as she tries to hold in her laughter as well and your resolve wavers until you find yourself in hysterics.

Laughter fills the air as you all join in the chorus, dancing and twirling around Mark’s body as his blood continues to drip down into the chalices on the ground. Finally Irene puts a hand up to stop the revelry; the joyous sounds dissolve back into silence, but the air continues to vibrate with the energy of it. She over Mark to take a chalice from Joy, hoisting it into the air.

“We offer this sacrifice willingly. So consecrate this blood, lord, and bless us with power untamed. So mote it be.”

“So mote it be,” you repeat along with the other girls and watch as she brings the silver chalice to her lips and takes a deep drink--eyes closed in ecstasy. With a smile she hands the cup of liquid to you, nodding for you to drink.

A warm, coppery liquid greets your tongue--coating your mouth in the metallic tang of blood. It flows down your throat--sickly sweet--and blooms through your body in a burst. You can feel your skin crawl with the heady scent and feeling of it. Intoxicating and powerful.

Darkness swirls around the edges of your vision before bursting into light. Everything comes into sharp focus--intense in colour and texture. The room is thrumming with life--vibrating at the edges. You turn to Irene and stare in awe as her features begin to glow from within. An unearthly cast of light shining from beneath her milky skin and washing over you in a wave of warmth and intensity. Her fingers entwine with yours and you can feel every ridge, every line. The touch sends a shiver down your spine as you stand transfixed by her.

“Let’s go,” she smiles, tugging you out into the light of the moon and stars. The winter air is crisp and clear and you marvel at the sky as the lights above dance and shimmer in ways you had never before seen. Constellations swirl and reform before you, and you feel you can see time itself.

The sounds of Joy and Yeri tittering with laughter, dancing in their bare feet through the snow, surrounds you. Wendy’s joyful singing as she races around their bodies in a daze, enraptured but this newfound world. Irene pulls your attention back to her, her hand on your jaw.

“To whatever end,” she smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before tugging you behind her as she runs into the trees. The trunks and branches shine in a flashing pattern--red and blue, red and blue. You watch the lights strobe, head swimming with images of fairies and songs, until a sound breaks through the daze; it pulls you back down to the present moment, shifting your atoms back to reality--loud and persistent.

Sirens.

“Irene,” you breathe her name, reaching out your fingers to clasp onto her hand. She stands stock still, watching as the police cars pull race down the driveway. Joy and Yeri scream in the distance, racing through the field away from the house.

“Seulgi.” The name is poison on her tongue, spoken like a curse.

“What do we do?” Fear filters through you, mixing into a dangerous cocktail of adrenaline in your bloodstream. She stands still, unmoving, and you tug at her arm insistently, “Irene, what do we do?” Her gaze is transfixed on the flashing lights--she neither moves nor speaks. You watch as one of the officers handcuffs Wendy and slides her into the backseat of one of the cars. The rest move forward, in a line of blue uniforms, and the fear moves into your throat--strangling you.

Everything was a mistake.

“Irene,” you turn her head to face you, boring your gaze into her eyes. “We have to go, we have to run.”

“We can’t,” she says, eyes glancing towards the slowly encroaching line--trapping you like deer. “I won’t let them take me, I can’t.” The sirens bleed through the darkness and you hear Joy and Yeri struggling against their own sets of handcuffs as they’re led back towards the cars. “To whatever end?” She asks, gaze suddenly alert and awake.

You nod, unsure, and she places one last kiss on your lips, before unsheathing the dagger from her thigh and racing towards the line of uniformed men. Watching in horror, you see her raise the silver dagger in the air--the blood stained metal shining in the moonlight. Heart in your throat, you watch as it clatters to the earth a few feet before she reaches the line. A shot rings out through the night. It pierces the air and sucks all the breath from your lungs.

Irene’s body falls in a heap to the snow covered ground and you fall to your knees with her--body drained of all magic, of all intoxication and enchantment. You’re left a void in the field, staring blankly ahead with tear stained cheeks as the handcuffs are clapped over your wrists.

--

The hum of the prison where you wait on remand is ever present and unrelenting. Silence and peace is an impossibility surrounded by hundreds of women in orange jumpsuits with hundreds of opinions. For the most part you maintain a silent existence; eating alone, reading alone, quietly following the commands of the guards as you await your trial.

The screaming only happens at night, when your dreams are plagued with the swimming, blood stained faces of Irene and Mark. Guilt ridden  nightmares that prevent any true rest.

You follow behind the guard as she leads you towards the grey concrete visiting room, expression blank save for the hint of curiosity buried in your eyes. It’s been six months and the only visitors have been your mom and lawyer--who could possibly be coming to pay a visit to a delusional murderer?

The metal door clangs open and you see Seulgi sitting at the table, hands folded on the surface as she waits. “Hi,” she says, a small smile turning up the corners of her lip. You can’t tell if the expression is smug or welcoming, but you sit across from her anyway, lifting your hands so the officer can remove the cuffs from your wrists.

“Fifteen minutes, girls,” she gives the warning and heads off to stand at the side of the room--eyes glazed with boredom and disinterest.

“Hi,” you reply, voice flat. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear; the hair is lighter, dyed a caramel brown that suits her complexion. Her clothes are varying tones of soft neutrals--not a hint of black in sight. You suppress a small laugh at the difference from the last time you saw her in the abandoned farmhouse. “Have you seen any of the other girls?” You ask, breaking the awkward silence.

“Yeah, Wendy’s doing well. She’s got a good lawyer. Joy and Yeri...it’s hard to tell with them. They said they’re fine, so I’ll choose to believe it.”

“Why are you here?” You ask, tossing aside all pretense. Her eyes widen at the blunt question but she composes herself, “if you came to say ‘I told you so’, don’t bother.”

“I wasn’t…” she trails off, sighing. “_____, I know you think I hate you but that was never the case. I just didn’t want any of this to happen. I honestly just came here to see how you were doing.”

The defenses you had built up crumble down and you slump forward with a sigh, “I’m tired, but fine. It is what it is, I’ll accept my fate.”

“Have you been practising at all?” A sly smile turns up the corners of her mouth and its your turn to be surprised.

“No,” you reply, eyes wide.

“You should,” she shrugs, “it might help with the insomnia, at least. Look,” she says, fixing her gaze on yours, “I know it’s all tied into memories you would probably rather forget, but it was all real. What we could do...the conjuring of images and willpower. It’s all real. You have it in you, you can use it to make life at least,” she glances at the guard leaned up against the wall, “more bearable.”

You nod as she stands to leave, eyes trailing over the amulet around her neck. “Take care of yourself, _____.”

“You too, Seulgi.” She leaves, disappearing through the visitors entrance. You listen as her footsteps disappear down the hallway until the sound has all but disappeared, then raise your hands to be led back towards your cell.

Night descends on the jail, and you lay against your hard mattress--sleepless. The sound of your bunkmates snoring doing nothing to help the situation. With a deep breath, you close your eyes and visualize. A curtain of straight black hair, the scent of cinnamon and leather, dark brown eyes warm with the heat of flames. Irene’s image comes into your vision--hazy and disjointed at first, but slowly it materializes and solidifies until you can feel her breath against your neck.

You breathe deeply in the dark of your cell and feel her hand slip into yours.

© 2020, neonun-au

[yuta1forme]

light & shadow pt. 1 | yuta

summary: standing in line for doyoung’s book signing, yuta wonders if he has ever acted normally around you 

author’s note: i had no idea how else to split this story into a readable format so  this will be a two (maybe three) part series! as always let me know if you would like to be tagged in the future parts!

taglist: @sweet-rintarou​

prologue: [21:26] 

genre: fluff, friends to lovers, college!au (this part)

pairing: yuta x reader

length: 1.7K

There are certain fundamental truths Yuta knows about the universe - the sun always rises in the east, milk goes before cereal and that Nakamoto Yuta does not blush. 

“Nakamoto Yuta, do I have permission to flirt with you in Japanese?”, the translation app reads out in its robotic voice. He whips his head around to face you as if the words had left your mouth and not the phone held in your hand. And then he feels it. That unfamiliar heat rising to his neck and cheeks. One look at the amused grin on your face and he knows that you have noticed too. If there is one thing that has not changed in all eleven years of him knowing you, it’s that he should always expect the unexpected from himself when he is around you. 

Even right now, hearing you gush about your attractive new coworker, Yuta feels an unfamiliar knot of form in the pit of his stomach. He suspects that it is the protectiveness he feels towards you that is making him feel so strangely antagonistic towards this man he has never met. But there is a niggling feeling at the back of his mind that tells him that that’s not the only reason why. 

You always had a way of getting a reaction out of him that no one else could, always had him feeling emotions that he didn’t know he could feel. His relationship with you, while not better or worse than the relationship he had with any of his other friends, was certainly different. It always had been. 

In freshman year, equipped with only a translation app on his phone, Yuta left his hometown of Osaka for Seoul. He had been offered a full-ride sports scholarship by Sooman University. He would play for the school’s soccer team and pursue, to his parents’ relief, a more “practical” degree in Business Management. 

He would be playing with the team where some of his favourite soccer players had first gotten their start before moving to the Japanese league. It was a dream come true. Well, almost. 

He had just never imagined it would be quite this...lonely.

Over his first month in the city, he could count the number of people he had spoken to on one hand. The first was his roommate with whom his conversations were limited to “hello” and “good morning”. The second and third were two middle-aged cafeteria ladies, who would coo over him and give him an additional helping whenever they saw that he was down. The younger of the two looked so much like his aunt, that it made his heart long for his family back in Osaka. 

The fourth and final person was Mr. Jung Yunho, the Student Affairs Counsellor - an energetic man in his early thirties who had lived in Japan for most of his adult life. He had sense that something was amiss and had tried to pry into what was bothering Yuta right from their first meeting. After about three weeks of beating around the bush, Yuta had finally, begrudgingly, confided in him about his homesickness and his trouble communicating in Korean. Mr Jung had listened intently through it all, occasionally patting his shoulder to comfort him. 

“You must feel very lonely, Yuta”, the older man had told him, resting one hand on his shoulder, eyes shining with sincerity. 

It was lonely. He didn’t have a single person he could call a friend. Everyone he had met thus far seemed so busy, living a life far too fast paced to notice the quiet foreign student at the back of the lecture hall. He wondered if anyone in his classes would even notice if he stopped attending lectures. The only time he felt like he belonged somewhere was when he was playing soccer with the team, but even then he wondered whether he could call his teammates, his friends. 

“Let’s start with helping you communicate first, shall we?”, Mr Jung had said, interrupting his self effacing train of thought. 

“I’ll put you in touch with someone who can help tutor you in Korean. A Korean Literature student who’s been working with some other foreign students as well. I have a gut feeling you two will become great friends!”

That was how Yuta had come to know you. He clicked on your kakaotalk profile picture and zoomed in to your beaming face. You had one of those warm, welcoming faces. A face that one would trust immediately. Your face gave the impression that smiling was your resting face. The laugh lines on either side of your mouth and the crinkles beside your eyes were further proof of that.

Yuta had sent you a short, impersonal message introducing himself as the student Mr. Jung wanted you to tutor. He had not wanted to get his hopes up. Having been all by himself in a foreign country for the past month, being dependent on someone felt strange to him.

Still, before he went to bed that night he found himself refreshing his messages, hoping for a notification from you. As his luck would have it, you hadn’t replied even the following morning. Yuta had swallowed the lump forming in his throat, pushing any disappointment out of his mind. 

You made the decision to move, all on your own, to this country far away from your friends and family, where you don’t even speak the native language. You have to face the consequences on your own too. Y/N is not obligated to help you. No one is. This is your own battle, for you to fight on your own.

With those thoughts in mind, he had busied himself with getting ready for the first match of the season against the neighbouring university. 

At half-time, Sooman University was trailing behind Seoul University with a score of 3-1. With the centre forward benched because of a foul, things weren’t looking up for the team. Yuta had made several attempts to score a goal throughout the game but had been stopped by the right-back, Park Minsoo, on Seoul University’s team. He was much taller than Yuta and had a larger build, which he used to his advantage. 

If there was one thing he absolutely hated, it was foul play. Yuta’s teammates had tried signalling to the referee that Park had been playing dirty, but the referee, infamous for being biased towards the Seoul University team, had brushed off their concern. 

After having collided with him several times over the last half, Yuta was getting impatient. He knew this wouldn’t end well for him but he had let his anger get the best of him. After another foul-worthy tackle from Park, Yuta used his side to shove the man out of his way with all his energy. Perhaps it was the momentum with which Yuta had crashed into him or pure dramatics, Park landed on his back howling in anger.

The referee blew his whistle to signal a pause and the players from both teams began fighting amongst each either, trying to put the blame on the opposing team’s player. The situation with Park must have been grave because the Seoul team’s coach and manager hurried on to the pitch as well. Yuta’s team captain stepped forward to defend Yuta from the wrath of the other side. But ofcourse, being Japanese, Yuta barely understood a word being spoken. There was no way he would be able to dig himself out of this. 

The thought of being benched for the rest of the semester crept into his mind. The fear of losing his scholarship made his legs tremble and he instantly regretted not heeding his older sister’s lifelong advice to him to be more gentle.

Then you appeared. Like an angel, only instead of white robes and a halo made of pure light, you wore a blinding neon green visor and an equally garish hot pink t-shirt bearing the Korean Literature Department’s logo. He saw you hop down the bleachers and squeeze through half a dozen sweaty soccer players, to thrust yourself in between Yuta and the opposing team’s coach. You explained somewhat emphatically to the referee that Yuta was a foreigner who barely spoke Korean and that any missteps on his part were purely a misunderstanding because of the language barrier. The man didn’t seem convinced, grumbling and gesturing animatedly at the two of you, egged on further by the other coach’s growing impatience. 

Yuta wished he could understand what was being said. He tried to hang on to every word being spoken, but the adrenaline from the tackle and the heightened atmosphere made it even harder for him to concentrate. He picked up a few words here and there. A mention of a foul. Then someone yelling out the word suspension, which made him clench his fist so hard he thought he would pop a vein in his arm.

But he understood the last words to come out of your mouth, perfectly well.

“Please let my friend off the hook this one time? I apologise on his behalf”.

Friend. No, he definitely had not misheard that. You had called him your friend. 

You had yanked Yuta forward by the arm, pushing his head down into a deep bow. Yuta took the hint and apologised, somewhat robotically, to Park and his coach. He was not bothered by the condescending smirk on Park’s face or the dirty looks that were thrown his way by the rest of the Seoul team as he allowed himself to be dragged off the field by you.

You dragged him quickly to the empty booths near the back of the stadium, sat him down and handed him a bottle of Gatorade. 

“I saw your text. I’m really sorry I didn’t reply any earlier. But to be fair I had wished you good luck with your game but I doubt you saw my message considering you were down here getting shoved around by that asshole Park”, you had started rambling while Yuta chugged the drink. 

Then he did something that he would cringe about for years to come. He should have known right then, on day one, that he could never act like his usual self around you.

He had shot up out of the seat, stepped forward and pulled you right into his arms, lifting you a couple of inches up in the air due to the sheer force. Through shaky breaths, he had whispered out a barely audible thank you to you. To his relief, you didn’t fight him off.

After a few seconds, you broke the silence and embrace. 

“Hey, I know I just saved your ass but you’re kind of really stinky from the sweat”, you had said in between giggles. 

He had dropped you back down and grinned somewhat apologetically at you in response. 

After that day, he was no longer alone.

[markschanel]

harana - m. lee

now playing: harana by parokya ni edgar 

characters: mark lee x reader, cameo appearances by johnny, jaehyun, doyoung & taeil 

word count: 1.6k

summary: best friends to lovers au! mark’s been singing and performing for what seems like all his life. Yet when it comes to you- he’s a nervous, overthinking mess just wanting to serenade you and show you his love as you watch from your balcony. 

Is serenading still in style?

You are probably wondering

Who is this foolish guy?

Stumbling to sing

With nervous hoarse voice

The darkness of your room and your exhaustion from your day keeps your eyes fluttered shut as you fall deeper into the embrace of your slumber. Your head rests on your feathered pillow as your hair cascades along your silk pillowcase, ready for the reward after a long day. 

That is, until you hear the gentle strumming of an acoustic guitar outside of your five-storied apartment, cursing at yourself for leaving the windows wide open. Although you know it’s summer and the piercing heat hitting your skin and sweat forming leaves you no other choice. 

You skip off your bed with a rough thud, causing you to groan in slight pain for hitting your toes against the sharp corner of your bed. Scratching your head as you walk towards the edge of your balcony, you don’t care how it’s only eight pm and you’re ready to launch into the next day, but the sight of what you see is what you don’t expect. 

Looking down by the gates of your apartment complex, you blink repeatedly as you see a dressed up Mark Lee in newly pressed cream white dress shirt and polished leather shoes, with his acoustic guitar strung across his torso held up by his worn out merlot guitar strap. 

“Look - Mark oppa is serenading you!” Your roommates, clad in their sweatpants and pajamas ready for bed much like you, come barging in your room unceremoniously but you’re so stunned you don’t seem to notice. Even their obnoxious giggles and snorts don’t phase you either. 

With his nimble fingers, he continues his gentle strumming, making sure to keep up a constant pace and clearly playing each note so that you can hear how fast his heart beats for you. 

You’ve hear Mark sing and play guitar for you so many times before, from hanging out with him at the company practice rooms or whenever you’d crash his dorm - but you can tell his nerves as present and how shaky his voice and fingers can get no matter how long he’s been performing professionally at the industry. 

But you don’t care- it’s the effort that counts and that’s the Mark Lee you’ve always adored, the one you’ve always cared for, the one you’ve always had a special spot in your heart for. The one your heart always beat for, but you never owned up to admit it, to him nor yourself even. 

  Carrying roses but wearing

Old faded jeans

Friends are there too

In formal style, singing worse than minus one and sing-along

The worn out jeans that've been put through the wash too many times is so familiar to you that it feels like home. You can’t help but watch in a trance as you grip tightly on the railings of your balcony at how he’s clearly made an effort to dress up extra fancy, with his hair gelled too, but it’s still him at the very core. 

At the very essence. He hasn’t changed anything about him, even as he’s trying to impress you. If only he knew that you accepted every facet of him with acceptance, from the flaws and imperfections he’s always working to improve on, to the intricate habits and multilayered facets of him that you couldn’t imagine living without. 

You stifle a laugh as you figure out the shadowed figures next to him, failing to properly hide under the oak tree outside your dorm gates. It’s hard to miss the colossal tall Johnny Suh holding up the boombox speakers that were hurriedly plugged into the microphone that Moon Taeil in his bright orange sweater that was holding up to Mark’s face. 

Nor can you ignore the cheekily smiling Jaehyun with his dimples flashed out as he holds up the bouquet of freshly picked red roses in his arms, that you’re sure Mark picked out for you by examining each single rose until he found one that he determined was up to your standards and what you deserved. 

Doyoung might’ve been the best at hiding in his all black get up, but the obsidian hued poster paper he held up that was scattered with neon stickers and bright glittered letters spelling out “Y/N, WOULD YOU GO ON A DATE WITH ME? I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!” in all caps is hard to miss. 

The acoustics set up for their miniature performance for you is nothing professional or worth raving about, but its the sincerity behind Mark’s bright, innocent eyes peering onto you and the familiar, comforting warmth behind his sweet yet husky voice that makes it more than enough for you. 

You just hope the neighbours won’t mind this impromptu concert along your street when it’s almost time for dinner, and most of the crowds living in the apartment complex you’re in are either new families with young toddlers who should be put to bed now, or grumpy retirees ready for bed. 

The sky is full of stars

And the air is cold

In your stares, I am going crazy, dear

And in this song

I hope you will love it

I will give all my heart

In a little serenade for you

You’re so impressed and drawn under that spell that you’ve nearly missed the chill down your back, as you’re in a thinly strapped tank top that was getting too thin for the night wind brushing down your spine. 

Crossing your arms as you rub your palms up and down your shoulders, prickly goosebumps on your skin,  you’re drawn to his voice and mellow strums to Ed Sheeran’s Tenerife Sea like caught in a siren’s spell, willing to drown in his arms, in his embrace, in his voice, in his love. 

Mark can’t believe he’s gotten over any of his past hesitations and got himself and his friends with him to serenade you in what appears to be an ancient tradition long forgotten in the past. He doesn’t know how he managed to bribe Jaehyun to switch in cleaning duties, or pay for Doyoung’s next few coffees to be involved in his little skit. 

You’re so special to him he’s taking risks he’s never before, because he believes you deserve the world and he’ll give it to you in any way possible. In his world, you’re a precipice that’s carved and drawn into his maps that the entire thing could be wiped out but you’d still be there, your mark permanently etched onto his heart. 

 Isn't it like the movies

A romantic film

Aren't you the leading lady and I am your leading man

In a story that ends in a never ending love

The butterflies in your stomach flutter as you realize he’s never forgotten your past rants at how you were never one for extravagant gestures, with expensive jewellery or elegant, lavish dates at overpriced restaurants, but realized deep under that- you still had that need of being cherished, of being exalted and celebrated for who you are and be treated like the divine goddess he saw you as. 

He would pluck out all of the stars from the expanse of the vast night sky just to see you smile, just to support you and be there with you through the rough times, through the sweet times, through all the hurts and pains you’ve experienced together before as friends, and now hopefully as something more than that. 

If only you noticed how you’d be so engrossed at your repetitive rounds of rewatches of Crazy Rich Asians with him at the beat up couch of his dorm, but he couldn’t help but keep glancing at you if he could give you the same fireworks in your heart like Nick Young gives Rachel Chu. 

How he lingers a couple extra seconds whenever you come greet him with a hug, how he always remembers to pick up your favourite bubble tea favours whenever you’re coming to visit, how he reads poems for inspiration for his song lyrics - but you’re the first person that comes to mind, and he always blushes furiously, fiercely, like the love has for you is beyond his comprehension, beyond his understanding- but he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

As he finishes his song, the silence that breaks out in the street is so loud, that it’s as if you can hear your heart beating so loud it’s echoing against your eardrums, that time has stopped and it’s only him that you can think about and focus on. 

Mark Lee isn’t just the upward climax in romance movies when the two lovers confess, isn’t just kissing passionately in the pouring rain, nor running after each other following a heated confrontation. 

Mark Lee sometimes is him remembering how many creams and sugars to put in your coffee order, he’s handwritten love letters hidden in the pockets of your purse, it’s the memories coming back immediately at your polaroid where you kiss his cheek hidden in his wallet, and the handmade baby lion keychain you’ve crocheted for him that he adores so much he won’t go anywhere without it. 

          “From the bottom of my heart, Y/N you are such a precious person to me that I adore you and care for you so much. I want to be the light in your day and be with you even through the toughest of times and the sweetest of seasons.”

 “I want to hold your hand and keep you company through the storms, through the sunsets. I love you so much that words cannot explain it and I hope you can feel it from my songs, from my gestures- even If I know my speech can’t contain it enough-” 

“I love you too, Mark Lee!” You interrupt his verbose yet impassioned speech from your balcony, rushing past your doors and outside your apartment to meet him downstairs. 

Johnny, Doyoung, Taeil and Jaehyun’s rambunctious cheering and screaming in excitement at the success of Mark’s confession embarrasses Mark more than he could ever imagine, his arm tucked behind his neck as his face and ears turn as red as his favourite watermelons. 

                                                                   …

A/N: I was listening to this song, and was just so inspired by how romantic this ancient Filipino tradition of harana is! I could totally see Mark doing this, and no matter how awkward/forced it could seem, Mark is just so sweet and endearing enough that he’d pull this off so well. 

If you’re wondering what it is, Harana is this Filpino tradition in serenading your love interest, hoping to woo them as a potential suitor. The suitor sings by the person they’re courting’s window, until they’re either accepted or rejected. 

It’s possible that they’re accompanied by other instruments and other companions as well, for moral or acoustic support lol, and the one courted usually invites the suitor inside afterwards, and the suitor leaves a gift for the person and their family. 

Hope you guys enjoy this! Sorry I disappeared for a few days I kinda got busy and my sleep schedule kinda going whack didn’t help but it’s here! I’m so proud of it. <3