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10byten · 20 days ago

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Need you, No Manners.

✧W : 5060

✧Summary : Taeyong is just addicted to you as you are to him. So why don't you fell in love and stop resisting ?

✧Warning : Smut and Fluff.

It’s 1:30 AM and your brain’s wide awake, refusing to let you sleep. Your phone buzzes. You turn your head to your nightstand and freeze. You know exactly who it is. No one else texts you this late, and you can feel it—it’s always like this with him.

Taeyong and you met at work. Boundaries matter in this world, but somehow, you two became inseparable from the second you met. The bond between you is so intense, it’s almost… primal. He feels you just as much as you feel him. The moment you step into each other’s lives, everything shifted. Maybe to much. You’d do anything for him. He’d do anything for you. At first, it felt like coincidence, if you believe in fate—but every time, your gut would guide you to a specific place at a certain time, and you’d always run into him. No matter how electric the chemistry, you’d created this “friendly” bond under the watchful eyes of other members and staff—deeply co-dependent.

There was something almost magical in your conversations and glances, something private and intimate that no one could even touch it. You’d end up following him everywhere, whether in Korea or abroad, even when your presence wasn’t necessary. You’d spend hours in practice rooms, working on your laptop, just to be by his side at his request. You never left the building without him; if he was training, you’d wait with a book or finish a few last tasks. If you still had work, he’d crash next to you on your office couch, watching SpongeBob on his phone. Taeyong would bring your favorite sweets from abroad—those you missed from home but couldn’t find here. They’d show up at your office every month. And between breaks, he’d leave you iced jasmine tea, your favorite, just to make sure you stayed hydrated.

Every week, you’d leave a blind box and a drink in his locker, so he’d find them before a tough day. You couldn’t have a meal without him; he knew all your eating habits like you knew his. Better yet, recently, Taeyong had you make a copy of his keys. He wanted you to come and go in his apartment whenever you wanted, “just in case.”

But here’s the thing: it was slowly driving you insane. Your feelings for him became everything, and before you knew it, you were putting him at the center of your world. You realized it when, every time he left, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You could still feel him everywhere—even when he wasn’t there. Then, recently, you spent the night at his place. You were on the couch, both of you half asleep, and Taeyong pulled you into him, arms around you. Slowly, his touches turned soft, his head resting on the curve of your neck. He was like a kitten, begging for affection.

You found yourself dangerously close to his face, his lips. You hesitated for a second—one move, and your lips would meet his. You don’t know where you found the self-control, but somehow, you managed to pull yourself up and leave his place, pretending you had an important early meeting that forced you to go back and get some sleep.

Taeyong knew you were lying. He knew your schedule better than you knew it yourself. He’d synced it with his, tracking your every move. And he knew. He tried to get you to stay. “You can sleep here,” he said. His voice calm, but there was something heavy behind it. You’d slept in the same bed on tour before, dozing off mid-conversation. But this? This wasn’t normal. It wasn’t friendly. And deep down, you knew it wouldn’t end well.

“No, I’m going home.” He sat up on the couch and grabbed your hand before you could even make it to the door. You turned to face him. His eyes were sleepy, focused on your fingers as they intertwined with his. “Why.” You could hear the disappointment in his voice. And you didn’t know if you could resist it. “Taeyong, I...” you struggled to find the words. He shot up, standing in front of you now, his gaze pleading. “Just for tonight, and tomorrow we can act like nothing happened.” You were so close to giving in, but this was just sex he was offering, and you knew that if you crossed that line, your feelings would take on a whole new dimension. “I have to go, sorry.”

You had to set a boundary with your feelings. You hadn’t been hired to fall for him. Your friendship? That was already a bonus. Above all, you’d fought hard to get to where you were in your career. You couldn’t throw all of that away just for a crush. Even though, deep down, you knew you were already way past the crush stage. That’s why, a few days, maybe weeks ago, you decided to stop responding to his private messages and calls. You knew his schedule by heart, had access to his calendar online—you knew where and when to be to avoid running into him. You needed space. You needed distance, for both of you. And you felt guilty for Taeyong, wondering what he was thinking on his side. His messages? They hit you hard, made you feel his pain, his confusion.

-Do you need anything? I’m at the grocery store near your place. I can drop something off if you want. - *Photo* Miss u - I left a iced tea on your desk. Hope you have a good day - The practice sessions are so empty without you - Haven’t heard from you much except for your work emails… - I miss you, please answer me

So many messages, so many small gestures that just made your heart ache even more, convincing you that keeping your distance was the right thing to do. You hated doing this to him, but it was slowly discouraging him from texting you. At least, that’s what you hoped.

And tonight? He’s texting you again. You turn around, grabbing your phone, you need to know what he’s saying—it’s visceral, stronger than you. At first, Taeyong respected your space, but after seeing you walk in this morning with Johnny, both of you holding coffees from the same place, he felt like someone had shoved a knife into his chest. This time, his messages were more direct.

- Are you trying to make me pay for that night or do you just not know how to get rid of me, so you’re ghosting me instead?

- I’m sorry, that’s not it. I just need to focus right now, I don’t have time for distractions.

- Miracle, you respond. Distractions?

- Please don’t take this the wrong way

Tyong’s calling

You don’t answer.

-You’re just gonna ignore me again?

-Taeyong, this... whatever this is between us, it’s not normal. We need some distance.

- What?

- I think some space would be good for us. We need a break.

- Is that what you want?

- It’s what we need.

- Okay.

You know Taeyong doesn’t get it. You also know that if something happens between you two and someone finds out, you’ll lose your job. The worst-case scenario? It leaks outside of the company, and no one would trust you with anything ever again.

The days that followed felt long and gray. You had no interaction with Taeyong anymore and were actively avoiding any direct contact with the 127 members. But then, one evening, you find your monthly package from Taeyong sitting on your desk. When you meet Irene, someone you’ve become close with since arriving, you feel uneasy. Finding that gesture from him kind of threw you off. Up until now, you hadn’t planned on talking about any of this, but Irene’s an idol, she knows Taeyong well, and if there’s anyone who might understand and listen, it’s her.

“Oh wow, didn’t see that coming.” “I know, it wasn’t planned at all and—” “No, I’m not talking about your feelings for Taeyong, I’m talking about your decision.” “Wait, what? Why?” “Because I know Taeyong, and if you two cross that line, sure, it could be dangerous for his career, but only if you’re not serious or if you’re not discreet. And that’s not him. He’d do anything to protect you and protect your relationship from outside eyes.” “How can you be sure about that?” You’re a little shaken by what she’s just said. “Because, again, I know him. And I think you should give him a chance, trust him to handle this situation. If there’s one person who can pull it off, it’s him. And I really think he’d want to take that risk with you.” “How can you say that? You had no idea about this situation before tonight.” “Of course I did. Everyone close to 127 knows about the... unusual chemistry you two have developed.” “Oh—”

Irene’s words keep replaying in your head. The part where she says Taeyong could manage and protect you both doesmake you want to believe in it. You know there’s a version of this story where he could truly enter a relationship with you, where you’d fall in love. But the part where she says others have already noticed the chemistry between you two makes you uneasy. That’s proof enough that you’re putting yourselves in danger by staying so close. It’s all too much to process, and you almost want to text him to talk about it, but you drop the idea. You don’t have the strength to deal with it tonight. Tomorrow’s a big event for the company, and there will be tons of people there. You’ve planned to focus and avoid any NCT members as much as possible.

When you arrive at the event, a lot of people are already there. That was the goal: arrive as late as possible to make sure the place is packed and you won’t run into a single 127 member who’d stop to make small talk, eventually bringing the others, including Taeyong, into the mix. Of course, you can count on Mark and Haechan, who spot you at the entrance and immediately drag you to their table. “Why haven’t you been around lately?” “Are you avoiding us?” Haechan chimes in. “Or worse, do you not like us anymore?” “That’s exactly it. I’ve always thought your music was awful, and now I’m realizing you’re terrible people too,” you joke. “No, seriously, why don’t you come see us in practice anymore?” Deep down, they all know it’s about Taeyong. When it’s you, it’s always about him. “I’ve just been swamped with work, I’m sorry. I don’t have as much time as before.” Taeyong’s been watching you from across the table since you sat down, his gaze sharp. You’re lying, and even though he knows you can’t tell the truth, it still annoys him. You choose to ignore his reactions. It’s for the best. The night goes on, and you decide to call it a night when you see that most people are starting to leave, and the alcohol’s kicked in. Over everything else, you can feel Taeyong’s eyes on you all night. You can’t take it anymore. Every time you turn your head, you inevitably lock eyes with him. His gaze is filled with desire and sadness. He’s unavoidable. You’re sitting in a corner chatting with Ten and Irene when the song No Manners starts. Taeyong’s in the middle of talking to some other artists, but his eyes never leave you. God, he wishes he were in Ten’s place. He’d give anything to be close to you. It kills him that you’ve barely had any interaction tonight. Before, you wouldn’t have left each other’s side the entire evening, and he would’ve taken you home, just the two of you, talking for hours in your little cocoon. You look up at him when Ten sings, looking straight at him. And you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the fact that you’re holding his gaze, but you feel an unbearable pull toward him. Your heart races, and you’re breathing heavier, like you’re too warm. He makes you feel hot. His eyes, filled with longing and emotions, set your body on fire. Now that he’s finally got your attention, he gives you a small nod, as if to say, come join me. He wants to talk to you, just the two of you. It would be so much easier to resist him if he weren’t looking so damn good tonight—in that silk, low-cut black blouse, the jewelry that makes him shine, and those jeans that highlight his long, lean frame. You want to go to him, but you don’t feel sober enough to face him like this. You’re not free from him yet, not enough to withstand this kind of moment. “Honestly, no one’s ever going to forget that iconic performance from Taeyong,” Ten says, like a dagger to your chest. It’s only the beginning of the song, and you decide to leave before hearing his voice. You wave goodbye to your friends and quickly make your exit. You completely ignore Taeyong as you pass by him. He feels it like a shockwave. It’s too much for him. How long are you going to play this game? He knows you want him too. He’s always felt it. At least, he hopes he’s not wrong.

He takes your place between Ten and Irene, rests his head in his hands, and sighs desperately. She taps his shoulder. "What are you waiting for? Go catch her." "She doesn't want us to have any contact anymore, you can see she's ignoring me." "Because she can't resist you, that's obvious." He glares at her. "Seriously Taeyong, do I really need to tell you that this girl is crazy about you? She's just trying to avoid trouble with the hierarchy." "Wait, is that why?" "Trust me Taeyong, she's crazy about you. She's just afraid you two won't be able to handle it, so go after her and prove to her that you can be the man she needs and protect her. Take the lead."

Taeyong stares at her for a second and then gets up faster than ever to chase after you. Ten looks at Irene. "Well, here we go."

He finds you in the hallway, the music still thumping in the background.

“Y/n!” He calls out, voice urgent.

“Not now, Taeyong.”

But he doesn’t give you a choice. Irene just told him to take the lead, and he’s determined to prove he can handle this.

Before you can even process, he grabs you by the waist and spins you around, slamming you against the wall.

“Taeyong—”

“Shut up.” His voice is a low growl, so close you can feel his breath against you, and it’s driving you wild. He holds your gaze, searching for any sign of resistance. But your eyes tell him everything he needs to know—you want him to stay, you want him to finish what he started.

Taeyong doesn’t hesitate. The music is loud, but the timing feels almost too perfect—his part begins. He inches closer, his lips dangerously close to yours, the air heavy with tension.

“Dancing on my backseat, You look so yeah senchi.”

His forehead presses to yours, his words soft yet filled with meaning as he murmurs, “Got me comma, commas I’m addicted to you, toxic.”

You don’t really get what’s happening, but you know you love it, and damn, it feels so good—way too good. You have no desire, no strength left to resist him. He slides his hands over your waist and grasps them firmly with his fingers to arch you over and press you fully against him. This leads you to feel his boner against you. And oh god, there’s no denying it—this moment hits Taeyong just as hard as it hits you.

You let out a soft moan.

“Naege dallyeo naneun dalliji Put the pedal to the metal maedalliji neoye maeryeok You the answer, never question urin eopji got no manners ppittakhage neoneun naenshi nan shideu.”

One of his hands slides up to your neck, his long fingers wrapping around it effortlessly. Then, his palm cradles your jaw as his thumb brushes your cheek, finally resting on your lower lip. His narrowed eyes lock onto yours.

“Urin beautiful neomu beautiful, Don’t say thank you or nothing, Criminal so cynical.”

He leans into your neck, his lips trailing along your skin as he keeps murmuring against you, each word feeling like a kiss. You sigh with pleasure.

“But we need to learn some manners, bichi na bichi na.” His mouth hovers over yours. “I’m addicted to you, toxic, I’m addicted to you, toxic.” he murmurs those last words.

His eyes glazed with desire, he pulls his thumb away from your lip and presses his mouth to yours. Your body reacts instantly to his. But the sound of heels echoing nearby pulls you out of your daze. You break the kiss—well, almost.

“Taeyong, wait, stop, just a second.”

He keeps kissing along your cheeks. “What now?”

“This isn’t a good-ahh—”

He cuts you off by sucking on your neck, pressing you harder against the wall as he hikes your leg up against him. He murmurs against your lips, “Remind me why we’re taking a break from each other. Hmm? It’s oviously insane. I think we both know what we want.” He pulls back to look into your eyes. “It’s obvious to everyone but you that we’re falling in love, so just let go and fall with me.”

You’re speechless. To hell with your job—there’s only one Lee Taeyong. You slide your hand up his neck and crash your lips against his. You feel like you’ve waited a lifetime for this. His hands are everywhere on you, and you never want him to let go. The kiss grows more urgent, the two of you like starving people finally given a taste of chocolate. Your arms wrap around his neck, clinging to him like your life depends on it.

He slows the pace. “I know I started this, but we should go somewhere more private.”

You steal one more kiss, unable to fully break away. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You keep kissing for another moment before he laughs. “Y/n, we really need to get out of here.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

He grabs your hand, as you runaway like two child. Once you arrive at his place, you barely make it through the door before you wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your head against his back. He grips your arms, holding you close.

“I can’t believe you wanted to deprive us of this,” he murmurs. He turns around to face you, cupping your face with his hands. “I won’t let anything come between us, you have to trust me. Not at work, not in our private lives. I’ll protect you and I’ll protect us from the rest of the world, from prying eyes. Since you walked into my life, you’ve been my priority. How could you not see that?”

“I’m sorry. You’re my priority too. And I want you more than anything.”

“Don’t push me away again, unless you’re sure you don’t want me anymore.” He finally kisses you, his lips somehow even sweeter than before. His touch is confident and firm, as if he’s trying to imprint you onto his skin.

Your jacket falls to the floor as Taeyong’s fingers trace along the straps of your dress. He slides them off your shoulders, and your dress drops to the ground.

You find yourself standing there in your underwear in front of him, and he takes a moment to just admire you. His tongue slips into your mouth, and between kisses, he asks, “Tell me, what do you want right now? I want to show you how well I can take care of you.”

You look at him, captivated by how far Taeyong seems willing to go for you, for your pleasure. You blush, hesitating to answer. He smile softly. “You’ve got something on your mind, but you’re too shy to ask.”

You shake your head, too embarrassed to admit it. He plants soft kisses along your neck and wraps his arms around you with such passion. “Tell me. You know you can ask me for anything.”

“It’s about earlier…” He looks at you, intrigued, and a spark flashes in his eyes. He smirk, shaking his head—he knows. “Your desire is my command.”

He lifts you effortlessly and carries you to the living room, laying you down on the carpet. His kisses trail down your body, from your neck to your belly button.

You moan; it feels so good. Then he sits up to take off his shirt. He pulls away just enough to get into position, his eyes never leaving yours. And under your mesmerized gaze, he starts his No Manners choreography.

When his hands graze around you, a shiver runs down your spine, watching him do this so close to you. And then the moment you’ve been craving finally comes—he grinds against you in that wave-like move that’s haunted your thoughts so many times. He finishes with a deep, passionate kiss.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” you moan.

“See? I know you better than anyone. I can take care of you, love.”

“Pleease, Taeyong, take care of me.”

“Of course.”

You turn, face down and arch your back to present him your ass. You want him to take you now. He presses himself against you, growling softly in your ear as he kisses your shoulder, all while sliding his pants and your panties down. He aligns his dick with your entrance and slowly penetrates you. You feel every inch of him slowly pushing inside you, and the movement feels just as sensual as it does romantic.

Taeyong brushes your hair out of your face, his fingers gentle as he plants soft kisses along your cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”

He sighs in pleasure as he starts to move, finding a rhythm that has you melting beneath him. His little moans send you to another dimension.

You’d always wondered what Taeyong would be like in bed, and a part of you was convinced he was a switch—which secretly drove you wild. You also had a feeling he’d be sensitive. And you were right. You could feel it in every touch, firm yet achingly tender. His movements become smoother and more fluid, and you feel his cock surge inside you, he's going to cum, already, you feel it.

He pulls out and lets out a shaky breath. You whine as you turn to face him. “Nooo, what are you doing?”

Running a hand through his hair, he gives you an embarrassed smile. “I’m gonna come if I keep going, Y/n. It’s been too long—I need to pace myself if you want this to last.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll find a way to get you going again.” You crawl toward him on all fours, and his eyes widen, completely captivated by your every move.

You lean against his thighs, gently wrap your fingers around his sex and start pumping him up and down.

His head falls back, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure coursing through him. You watch his face contort with bliss, and the sight alone satisfies you—but you crave more. Leaning in closer, you start by kissing his tip, then wrap your mouth around his all dick. Taeyong moans in pleasure, his high-pitched whimpers are like music to your ears.

He looks down at you, completely lost in his bliss. His hand rests on your head—not to push, just to feel connected to you. Your pace steadies, and you tighten your mouth around him. You catch it the moment you feel his whole body tense up. His breath is all ragged.

“Y/n, I gonna cum, you need to pull away." He places a gentle hand on your cheek.

You look at him and tighten your lips, not letting go. It's an invitation to come in your mouth. You can see tears in his eyes and god it turns you even more.

“Oh my- aahh Y/n…I can’t hold back, sorry."

He comes within a second. And you don’t take your eyes off him, to catch this moment. You swallow everything he gives you. You release his cock in a lil pop.

He opens his eyes again, all groggy and satisfied, then leans in to kiss you.

"Thank you... that was incredible."

You smile against his lips. "This is just the beginning."

You're back to pumping his dick. Taeyong flinches and lets out a whimper, “It’s sensitive.”

“I know baby, but you told me you’ll take care of me right?”

“Of course I will..oh”

His body’s shaking—you’re overstimulating him.

“Let me eat you, please.” he's pleading you.

“No, I want you inside of me.” You can't wait anymore

He rests his forehead against yours, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck. “Oh my- I’ll never get enough of you.”

He slides two fingers over your folds and penetrates you with one thrust. You flinch and cry out as you feel his fingers thrust into you.

“Here, you wanted to feel me inside of you.”

His hands are quick and firm, his fingering you in a way you could never touch yourself.

You feel the tension building inside you. Gripping his shoulders, straddling him, you try to hold yourself steady. But your body’s shaking—what Taeyong’s doing to you is too intense, too much for you to handle.

"Yong, I can’t stand…”

“It’s ok, I got you”

He plants a soft kiss at the corner of your lips. Your grip on his shoulders loosens—your arms can’t hold on anymore. As you start to fall back, he catches you, pulling you close. You melt into his embrace, and just like that, you feel more than safe; you feel like you truly belong, right there with him. Your orgasm transcends you; you've never had one so strong that it had such an effect on you.

When you open your eyes, you see Taeyong completely mesmerized by what he's looking at down below, he's already starting to jerk off again. You just squirted. You didn't knex you could do that.

You blush, feeling horribly embarrassed for ruining his carpet.

“Oh my god Tae, I’m confused.”

He bites his lip. “Will you do it again ?”

“Well…it’s up to you.”

You blush a little when Taeyong catches your gaze, surprised, and you smile at him. “I’ve never done this before, not alone, and definitely not with any other guy.”

He kisses you, deep and slow, proud of what you just said. “Told you, no one can take care of you like I can.”

“I want more Taeyong.” you whisper.

He pulls you into his arms, lifting you effortlessly, taking you to the bedroom. Lying on the bed, you watch him, wondering how you ever thought you could live without him.

He lays on top of you, movements soft and tender. He traps your face between his arms, showering you with gentle kisses all over. Your hands wander down his back, nails scratching lightly. He shivers. And just like in the living room before, he slowly penetrates you so that you feel every inch of it enter you. You dig your nails into his skin, and he lets out a soft moan. He finds a steady rhythm, gently placing a hand on your cheek, almost tenderly. He kisses you, slow and deep, before pulling away to look at you. His backstrokes are strong and sure, you're in nirvana.

He lifts you, sitting you on top of him. Now you're straddling him, sitting on his lap, wrapping your arms around him as you face him. He put his hand against your pussy and the friction of your clitoris against his fingers provokes a new orgasm that hit you so hard.

Taeyong buries his face in the crook of your neck, letting out the softest moan. You find those sounds as sexy as they are adorable. You know you’ll never be able to get enough of them. His body turns warm, his breath shallow. He starts mumbling softly against your neck.

"I'm going to cum, Y/n, I'm sorry."

“Don’t be, just enjoy, my love, that’s all I want.”

He moans, tightening his grip around your waist as he hears your words. You feel all his muscles tense, and Taeyong lifts you slightly to pull away. He jerk, still hidden in your neck, pressed against you. And finishes with a soft groan, he murmured your name, while painting your belly with his hot cum.

You still hold him in your arms, cuddling him.

His orgasm was strong, you can feel it. For Taeyong, it's months of frustration finally being satisfied.

He lays you down and settles against you. His misty eyes study you intently.

“I thought you’d never come back to me.”

“I know, me too...”

He runs a hand through your hair and props himself up on his elbow. “I hated it. It killed me, you became the greatest part of my life.” He kisses you deeply. “I missed you. I missed you so damn much.”

“I missed you too, I’m sorry.”

“Then it’s okay, you trust me now?”

You nod, silently agreeing.

“Either way, you don’t have a choice. I won’t let you go this time. And I know exactly how to convince you to give in. No manners, right?" he smirk, making fun of you. "Didn’t know that performance would have this effect on you.”

You blush slightly. “Oh shut up.”

“I’ll do this every night if that’s what you want, my love.” He kisses you again.

“You’ll take care of me, right?” you smile.

“I will, as long as you let me.”

In the week that follows, you and Taeyong fall back into your routine. And, of course, in private, it’s much more.

One evening in the practice room, you joke around with Haechan while Taeyong watches you, completely in awe.

"So, everything’s good between you two now?"

Taeyong smiles like a little kid. "Yeah, she just needed me to reassure her. And that’s exactly what I did. I said what needed to be said." He pauses when you look at him, his heart racing for you. He joins you, wrapping his arms around you from behind while you laugh with the others.

You push him away, but not really trying.

"Taeyong, we talk about discretion. Not in front of everyone..."

He pouts, then playfully smacks your cheek.

"I know but..between us, no manners” he whimpers in your ears.

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taelliminado · 8 months ago

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HIP-HOP FIGHT CLUB ✦ projeto pessoal

essa capa foi uma dor de cabeça porque a ideia era fazer uma colagem, mas capa estilo colagem é um problema pra mim desde a época que a @fellegekben-jar me influenciou com o estilo dela (e fracassei com todas as tentativas). então isso aqui é uma mistura do meu estilo, e inspirações...

✦ inspirações: @mellodramazip (🧡) + @busanpng (🔥)

#social spirit #capa de fanfic #capa para fic #capa colorida #capa divertida #taeliminado #capa para social spirit #cover design #capa fanfic #exo #nct 127 #superm #baekyong #baekhyun #taeyong #ao3

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leejenoenthusiast · 6 months ago

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What we’re not gonna do is forget that this absolutely mouthwatering performance exists

(Baekhyun being told to sit up gets me every time)

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multifandom-re-write-01 · 1 month ago

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Stuck In Time

Summary: What if Taeyong and Nari were cursed by a witch to be separated in every reincarnation of Nari's life while he lived as an immortal, constantly seeking for her? Based on Taeyong's drama from SuperM's 'As We Wish'

Many, many, MANY Years Ago...

“Taeyong,” she gasped out as they ran through the forest. “Taeyong, I don’t think I can go any further -”

“We’re almost there, I promise,” the young man assured the female, looking over his shoulder briefly to send her a weak smile. They continued to run, the sound of people yelling and chasing after them slowly fading away. “Okay, let’s rest...”

The two arrived at a clearing in the forest, where the full moon lit down onto them gently. The two collapsed to the ground panting, but otherwise relieved they were able to escape the grasp of the angry crowd that wanted them dead or alive.

“This is all my fault,” she eventually spoke up amongst their silence, staring down at the grass guiltily. “It’s all my fault...”

“Hey, don’t say that!” Taeyong chided, shuffling so he now sat across from her, grabbing her hands gently in his. “It’s not your fault.”

“But if I didn’t bump into you in the markets...”

“I wouldn’t have met the love of my life,” he finished her sentence before she could. “I’m glad to have met you, Nari. Life without you now would be meaningless. We’re not going to let some jealous woman stop us.”

“She’s not just any woman, Taeyong,” she scoffed, pulling her hands away from his much to his dismay. “She’s your fiancée.”

“Not by choice!” he retorted. “It was an arranged marriage, not one I agreed to. You’re the one I want to marry. Ever since we bumped at the markets when you were selling those delicious sweets...” She let out a small giggle at the mention of his sweet tooth, making him smile at her fondly. “Nari...we’ll be okay, I promise. No matter what happens to us, we’ll find our way to each other. Okay?”

“Okay...”

* * *

Many, many, MANY Years later...

The bell chimed, signaling a new customer.

“I come to this place everyday...to see her.”

“Welcome,” the woman barely whispered out, entranced by the handsome man before her. “May I take your order?”

“Just...one cup of Americano,” he answered smoothly in his baritone voice, staring deeply into her eyes. She gulped under the gaze, reluctantly looking down to punch in his order, still feeling his heated stare at her.

“Okay...”

Moments later, the mysterious handsome man sat at a window seat, staring out at the nature surrounding the mini forest they were in, taking an idle sip of his Americano. “See?” the woman’s friend cooed from beside her. “I told you, right? He’s interested in you!”

“No way!” the woman waved off, looking away from her friend embarrassed. She hoped her face wasn’t as red as she pictured it. Ever since the mysterious man entered the café, she’s been feeling warm all over.

“I’m envious...” her friend sighed wistfully. “Did you save a country in your past life? For that kind of man to like you...” As if hearing their conversation from his seat across the room, he connected eyes with the woman again making her freeze. She couldn’t help but be stuck in his gaze. It looked so warm, inviting...and yet, sad.

“I went to that place the next day, and the day after...”

* * *

The bell chimed.

He stood before her with the warm smile.

* * *

The bell chimed.

He stood before her with an umbrella, wet from the light rain that was happening outside.

* * *

The bell chimed.

He stood before her with another warm smile.

“...just to see her.”

* * *

“One cup of Americano, please,” he requested the same order from the last couple of days - weeks - he visited.

And that’s when she couldn’t hold in her silence any longer.

“Excuse me,” she spoke up, his eyes catching hers immediately as if on instinct. She ignored the shivers that went down her spine as she peered into his warm chocolate brown eyes that held small signs of surprise.

“Yes?” he replied quietly.

“Can we talk for a little while?”

* * *

The two moved away from the counter to the table he always sat at, the man leaning against the table rather than sitting down. He stared straight ahead, a distant look on his face as if he was deep in thoughts. She stared at him nervously from beside him, eventually having the confidence to speak up again. She already spoke to him, so there was no going back from it now.

“Excuse me...” she started. “By any chance, is there a reason why you are here everyday?” Actually, it wasn’t really everyday, just whenever she had a shift, basically. Her friend told her that he would only appear when she’s on shift.

A forlorn, melancholy expression crossed his face, twisting his body so he faced her completely. She felt herself hold in a breath as he gave her his undivided attention. “Shall I tell you something?” he proposed quietly. She barely nodded her head. He smiled at her charmingly. “Let’s sit down first, shall we?”

“Ah,” she faltered, glancing to the counter momentarily where she’s meant to be. “I have -”

“It’s okay,” he waved off, looking at someone over her shoulder. “You’re allowed to be with me.”

She followed his gaze to see him looking at the owner of the café who happened to be an elderly woman. Said woman smiled at the two warmly, though sadly, speaking to the customer who approached the counter.

What is happening?

Slowly, she sat across from the man who waited for her patiently. “Okay,” she murmured. “I’m listening...”

* * *

Many, many, MANY years ago...

He stared down at the list of groceries he needed to buy for the upcoming dinner his family were planning to have with his older sister and brother-in-law, pouting when sweets weren’t listed on the paper before him.

With a sigh, he tucked the paper away, planning to walk deeper into the busy market when he was knocked off his feet by a small force. With a grunt, he landed on the ground, a body falling on top of him.

“I’m so sorry!” a light, feminine voice exclaimed, the weight on top of him disappearing, replaced with a hand in his line of sight. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry...”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he assured, slowly getting up with the help of the small hand. He dusted himself off, not once making eye contact with the person in front of him. “I should have watched where I was...” When he finally looked up at the person in front of him, he felt his heartbeat stop. There, before him, was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. “...going,” he finished lamely.

“I’m really sorry,” the woman fussed, unaware of his dazed expression. “I will make it up to you, I swear! Here! I have sweets!”

“Sweets?” that snapped him out of his daze, looking at the basket that were full of sweet, sugary breads. He felt his mouth water at the sight. “Well, I can’t say no to delicious food...”

The woman giggled cutely as he grabbed a bread from her basket, smiling at him gently when she realised how handsome he was. He was about to take a giant bite of the bread when he noticed her gaze on him, flustering him. “I’m Taeyong,” he introduced shyly, lowering the bread from his lips.

“I’m Nari,” she replied back. “Nice to meet you...”

* * *

“Taeyong, we have some wonderful news for you!”

“Really?” Taeyong peered up from his dinner curiously. His parents and sister glanced to one another excitedly before facing him with bright smiles.

“You’re getting married!” his mother exclaimed. He leaned back in his chair in surprise.

“With who?” His mind flickered to the woman he fell in love with after a year of hanging out with each other.

“With the blacksmith’s daughter, of course!” his father chortled. “The fairest maiden out there in our town!”

“Her?”

She wasn’t Nari.

* * *

“Taeyong, I don’t think this is a good idea -”

“Nari, I would rather be disowned from my family than marry a woman I don’t love,” Taeyong shook his head, grabbing hold of her hands so he could press a chaste kiss to her knuckles. Although it made her cheeks flare up, she didn’t let that affect her at that moment.

“Taeyong, this is serious. I can’t let you leave your family because of me - and when Meredith finds out you don’t want to marry her -”

“She already knows.”

“What!”

“I don’t care about her opinion! She’s just a spoilt bully anyway!”

“Taeyong, we can’t!” Nari sniffled. “We can’t...Your family...”

“Nari...” He leaned his forehead against hers, making sure they held eye contact despite the tears that were making their sight blurry. “Marry me. Run away with me. Please. Let’s start somewhere new like we always dreamed of. A new town, a new start. Please...be with me.” With the overflowing love he was expressing through his heated gaze and words, how could she not fall for him over again?

* * *

“Taeyong,” she gasped out as they ran through the forest. “Taeyong, I don’t think I can go any further -”

“We’re almost there, I promise,” the young man assured the female, looking over his shoulder briefly to send a weak smile her way. They continued to run, the sound of people yelling and chasing after them slowly fading away. “Okay, let’s rest...”

The two arrived at a clearing in the forest, where the full moon lit down onto them gently. The two collapsed to the ground panting, but otherwise relieved they were to escape the grasp of the angry crowd that wanted them dead or alive.

“This is all my fault,” she eventually spoke up amongst their silence, staring down at the grass guiltily. “It’s all my fault...”

“Hey, don’t say that!” Taeyong chided, shuffling so he now sat across from her, grabbing her hands gently in his. “It’s not your fault.”

“But if I didn’t bump into you in the markets...”

“She’s not just any woman, Taeyong,” she scoffed, pulling her hands away from his much to his dismay. “She’s your fiancee.”

“Not by choice!” he retorted. “It was an aranged marriage, not one I agreed to. You’re the one I want to marry. Ever since we bumped at the markets when you were selling those delicious sweets...” She let out a small giggle at the mention of his sweet tooth, making him smile at her fondly. “Nari...we’ll be okay, I promise. No matter what happens to us, we’ll find our way to each other. Okay?”

“Okay...”

“Good luck with that.”

The two gasped, whirling around to see the woman Taeyong was meant to marry, seething with jealousy and fury. “Meredith!” they gasped, struggling to their feet. Taeyong pushed Nari’s body behind him, making sure she was covered by his body.

“You dare reject me for some peasant like her!” Meredith screeched, approaching the two slowly as they backed away from her. Suddenly, fire emerged from the woman’s hands making them gasp.

“You’re a witch!” Nari gasped, peering over Taeyong’s form fearfully. “You should be the one chased after, not me!”

The reason why the couple were running away from an angry crowd was because Meredith had caught the two in their alone time one day, and furious and jealous, Meredith had spread news to the town that Nari was a witch, and that she had bewitched Taeyong to fall for her.

“Meredith, no...” Taeyong warned. “I’m sorry, but I can’t marry you.” He looked behind him at Nari, giving her a small but loving smile. “I’m meant for Nari. We love each other.”

“That’s what you think...” the fire disappeared from the woman’s hands, replaced instead with a dark purple swirl of smoke. She threw it at the two of them - specifically, at Taeyong. A different coloured smoke was thrown towards Nari when Taeyong was distracted. “From now on, Taeyong, you will be stuck in time, chasing after the woman you so-call love.”

“No!” Nari gasped, grabbing Taeyong just in time before he could fall to the ground for the curse cast upon him.

“And you!” Meredith’s fiery gaze turned to the other woman. “You will not remember him in the next future lives until too late!” She gave the couple a leering smile. “Let’s start this curse, shall we?” On cue, the angry crowd they had ran away from appeared, separating the two.

“Nari!”

“Taeyong!” the two cried out for one another, struggling to run back into each other’s arms.

“Nari!” he called out through his struggle, looking at the crying woman from a small distance. “No matter what, I will find you, and we’ll be together, I promise!”

“Taeyong!” she cried, trying to reach him to no avail.

“I’ll find you!” he repeated over the chaos that surrounded the two. “No matter where we are in the future, I will find you! I promise!”

* * *

“There was a man who went to a café everyday because he fell for a woman...”

* * *

1960

“What would you like to order?” the woman asked the young, mysterious man. He didn’t answer her, trapped by her beauty despite having visited the place numerous times to see her. Despite seeing her every day, he could feel himself fall all over again for her. Although it pained him to see her not know him, he didn’t mind because in the end, she always found her way back to him.

“She was dazzling...”

Trapped in his thoughts, Taeyong only snapped out of it when she decided to walk away from him. “Excuse me...” he called to her, barely hiding the panic in his voice. She turned to him curiously. “I’ve fallen for you,” he confessed plainly, much to the woman’s surprise. “I like you.”

Although she only spoke to him to get his order every day, she couldn’t help but fall for him as well as the days went by. The thought of the handsome, mysterious man that all women were pining over fancied her? Sounded like a dream.

She couldn’t help the bright smile that crossed her lips, her eyes almost closing from the smile that Taeyong always fell throughout the different eras that passed during his time of walking the Earth. “We’re on the same page, then.” she stated happily.

* * *

“We’ll find our way back to each other, okay?” he promised to the dying woman before him. “Just like the many times before...I will always find you.”

“You must be tired,” the sick Nari whispered. “Always searching the planet for the next me...”

“Never,” he shook his head, pressing a kiss to her cold knuckles. “I will never give up on you. On us.”

“I’m sorry you have to go through this...” she sniffled, her heart breaking for the man that chased for her over and over again throughout the many eras. “Now cancer is taking me away from you...”

“It’s okay,” he assured, her leaning forward to kiss her temple. “I’m just glad to have found you again.”

“Surely, there must be a spell to break this curse? To have us reunite finally without any memory loss, without any deaths?”

“I will find the spell to break our curse, no matter what,” he vowed. “I will find a way for us to be together at last. But for now, rest, okay? You’re tired, I can see that. Rest, my love, and I will see you soon.”

“Don’t keep me waiting,” she joked lightly, making him laugh through his tears.

“Never,” he repeated his word from earlier, giving her one last kiss to her lips before she slept forever.

* * *

“For the past 600 years, I only live in the present.”

* * *

He smiled at her lovingly, reuniting with her again for what seemed like the millionth time in his life.

* * *

“Even though I can’t go back...”

* * *

He entered the familiar café that continued to stay despite the many years that passed, connecting eyes with the next version of the love of his life.

* * *

“I don’t regret my decision.”

* * *

2020 - Present time

He smiled at the woman before him, watching as she slowly started to gain her memories from the many generations that passed for the two.

“Now I will...protect her until the end.”

He sat up straighter in his seat once he saw her eyes clear up from it’s temporary glazed expression, his brown doe eyes staring into her watery ones.

“Nari?” he hesitantly called out.

“Oh, Taeyong...” She remembered him. “How long has it been?”

“It’s only been twenty years the last time we reunited,” he relayed to her, leaning forward to reach across the table for her hands. “The time span is getting shorter.”

“Does that mean something? Do we not have anymore time?” she asked concerned.

“The opposite, my dear...” He gave her a wide smile, leaning down to kiss her knuckles like usual. “I found it, Nari, I finally found the spell that will break our curse and bring us together.”

“Really?” she beamed, a tear managing to escape her eyes. He stretched out to wipe it away gently with his thumb.

“Really,” he confirmed. “I told you we would finally have our happy ending, didn’t I?”

And a happy ending they received.

* * *

5 years later...

“-and they lived happily ever after,” the elderly woman finished, smiling softly at her granddaughter who stared into the distance with a wistful look.

“Wow,” said granddaughter sighed as she leaned against the counter, “Although I’ve heard this story numerous times growing up, I never heard that last bit of the story before...” She turned back to her grandmother curiously. “So what happened? How did they get their happy ending?”

“Well, they visited the witch that Taeyong found during his adventures, who was able to break the curse on the two,” the grandmother recited. “The witch was able to make Taeyong grow old with the love of his life, the dream they always wished for. Do you want to know a secret?” The grandmother leaned closer to the younger woman to whisper into her ear. “They still visit the café where they would always reunite throughout the years.”

“Really?” the woman gasped. “Wait...how? Isn’t this just a story?”

“Oh, my dear, you didn’t listen to the story carefully,” the grandmother chuckled. “I mentioned earlier, they met in the present time now...”

“Present time now?” she echoed. “I don’t...”

The bell chimed, signaling a customer.

“Ah, hello, dears!” the grandmother chirped happily. “The usual for you two?”

“Yes, please,” a baritone voice chuckled from near the granddaughter. “One cup of Americano for me, hot chocolate for the Missus, and banana bread.”

“But add an extra slice of your lovely banana bread, please?” a light soprano voice chimed. “Our little boy here is craving for some sweets. Just like his father...” The granddaughter turned her head to see a beautiful couple, the woman holding an adorable five-year-old boy who looked like a perfect mix of his parents. They were simply glowing with happiness.

“Of course!” the grandmother chuckled. “On the house like usual, my dears.”

“Thank you!”

“The three of you are simply glowing,” the grandmother complimented them. “I’m glad you guys are happy now.”

“Thank you,” the couple chorused happily. After ordering, the family of three walked to a table beside the window, the grandmother and granddaughter watching the three.

“Darling,” the granddaughter tore her attention away from the family to look at her grandmother’s knowing gaze. “Have you connected the dots yet?”

“The dots -?”

“Mama!” she heard the boy call from behind her. “Story! Story!”

“Ah, our story?” the mother giggled. “Well, as you know, this café holds a special meaning to us...”

“No matter how long it’s been, I would always find your mother in this beautiful, small café that was surrounded by the very forest where our love grew all those years ago...” the father added on.

She connected the dots.

“No...” the granddaughter’s jaw dropped, her head snapping to the happy family again, eyes wide in disbelief. She faced her grandmother’s amused expression. “Are they - are they - really?”

“How else would I know the ending to the story?” the grandmother retorted. “Like you said, you grew up with this story that was told from generation to generation, with no complete ending...”

“And this café has been opened for many years and passed down from our family...” the granddaughter finished. She whipped her head around to face the family again who were now looking at her, smiling softly. Their eyes...they were so warm, but held a certain gleam that showed they were older than they seemed, as if they’ve experienced a lot in their life...

“They really got their happy ending,” the granddaughter exclaimed in disbelief. “You-You saw their happy ending!”

“Yes, now stop staring at them!” she was whacked on the back of her head by a wet rag from her grandmother. “You know staring is rude! Back to work now!”

“But-But!” the granddaughter protested, following after her retreating grandmother. “But it’s them! I grew up listening to their story, and they’re here right now! Does Mum know?”

* * *

The two giggled as they watched the owner of the special café talk with her granddaughter, the couple sending each other knowing looks.

After staying in the cafe for a few hours, in sync, the two stood up, Taeyong grabbing their son this time as they returned to the counter to return their empty dishes.

“-but it’s them -!”

“Thank you for the hospitality, like always,” Taeyong spoke up, interrupting the granddaughter mid-sentence. Said woman snapped her mouth shut, staring at them with awe. “We’ll be back next year like usual.”

“You’re welcome,” the grandmother nodded warmly. “And I say congratulations again for your happy ending on behalf of my ancestors who watched the two of you in your journey. You deserved it.”

“Thank you for looking after this café until now,” Nari added. “We’ll always visit.”

“I’ll see you three next year, then. Hopefully with the new addition?” Nari blushed, staring down at her still flat stomach. Nari wasn’t glowing just because she was happy, as it turned out. Once a mother, you would always know the signs. Taeyong beamed happily from beside the love of his life, leaning forward to kiss Nari on the temple.

And with that, the happy family walked out of the café.

“Now,” the grandmother grinned at the shell-shocked woman beside her. “This is quite a story to tell your children, eh?”

The End

Main Masterlist // 'What If...' Masterlist

#nct female addition #nct female member #nct female oc #nct 127 female member #nari x taeyong #nari:: what if #nari:: superm #superm female oc #superm female member #superm female addition #superm 8th member

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retroneo · 1 year ago

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#taeyong #nct #nct 127 #superm #lee taeyong #cherry bomb #2017

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editsty · 1 year ago

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Happy 10 years with our precious, talented , handsome, cute, sexy, kind, best boy Taeyong 💚

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8-xnny · 30 days ago

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hai oomf I'm requesting a moodboard. pretty please a taeyong one? he's so boyfie and I miss him

. 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🎶 ๋ ࣭ ⭑ — Lee Tae-yong .

、 ꕀ ﹒ 샤랄랄라라라, I′ma shine ◟ ﹒🤍

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limitlesssense · 2 years ago

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Taeyong x Ten – Call D

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writemekpop · 2 years ago

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Doctor’s Orders | Lee Taeyong

Summary: Your sexy but stern boyfriend Taeyong turns playful when he's sick...

Genre: Established relationship AU, boyfriend!Taeyong, fluff

Word Count: <0.5k

You held a thermometer in front of your boyfriend Taeyong. “Open wide!”

His cheeks were flushed a dark red, and a light sheen of sweat coated his angular face. Taeyong dived under the covers. “Nuh, uh, don’t wanna!”

Your normally stern boyfriend became silly and playful at the first sign of a fever. He had to be sick, you just knew it.

You whacked the duvet over his butt, earning a yelp.

His handsome face peeked out from under the covers.

You scowled playfully, waggling the thermometer at him.

“Stop messing around, Yong, or I’ll stick this somewhere else!”

Taeyong laughed, scrunching up his face. He shuffled closer to you, and obediently stuck his pink tongue out.

You placed the thermometer under his tongue.

The number flashed up - red hot.

“I knew it!” You gasped.

You tucked Taeyong back in the blanket. “It’s strict bedrest for you. Let me give my baby a cool towel.”

You turned away, but Taeyong grasped your wrist before you could leave.

“I like you playing doctor,” Taeyong said, smirking. “It’s hot. Remind me to do this again when I’m better. But with less clothes.”

You chuckled. “You got it - my favourite patient.”

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

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keehomania · 7 months ago

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therapeutic (테라퓨틱) — lee taeyong (이태용)

✧.* 18+

the mind, a vast labyrinth, held within its delicate folds the secrets of every human experience. it was a realm both familiar and foreign, a place where memories danced like shadows on ancient walls, where emotions ebbed and flowed like the tides, and where thoughts wove themselves into the fabric of reality. in that particular domain, the boundaries between the conscious and the unconscious blurred, creating a landscape that was as treacherous as it was beautiful.

for centuries, humanity had sought to understand the mind's inner workings, to decipher the language of neurons and synapses that whispered the truths of existence. yet, despite all the knowledge amassed, the mind remained an enigma, a force capable of both creation and destruction. it could be a sanctuary, a place of solace where dreams flourished, or a prison, where fears and anxieties festered in the dark corners, unbidden and unwelcome.

why do i think the way i do? why do i behave the way i do? why do we find ourselves begging the question, that three-letter question—why? too long has it been a double-edged sword, that question. those who ventured too close to the edge found themselves lost in a labyrinth of their own making, searching for a way out that sometimes seemed impossible to find.

the mind was both a protector and a betrayer. it could shield one from the harshness of reality, crafting illusions and fantasies that soothed the soul. but it could also turn against its owner, unraveling the very threads of their being until they were left exposed, vulnerable to the relentless onslaught of their inner demons. the mind could be a gentle guide, leading one toward healing and self-discovery, or a merciless tormentor, dragging them deeper into the abyss.

the path to mental well-being was not a straight one; it twisted and turned, often doubling back on itself in a confounding maze. it required courage to traverse, or facing the darkest parts of oneself, the fears and doubts that lay hidden beneath the surface. it meant confronting the wounds of the past, allowing them to bleed so they might eventually heal. and it meant accepting that some scars would never fully fade, that they were as much a part of the self as the mind that bore them.

the office you called your own was a home of sorts, a place where the issues of the outside world were left at the door, and the echoes of troubled minds found solace. it was a space curated to ease the burdens carried by those who sought your counsel. the walls were painted in soft, muted tones—an earthy beige that mimicked the comforting embrace of nature. sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains, casting a gentle glow that softened the edges of the room and made it feel safe, inviting.

your desk, though functional, was devoid of the sterility one might expect in a clinical setting. instead, it was adorned with books—volumes on psychology, philosophy, and the occasional novel that you found particularly stirring. there was a small plant, a gift from a patient who had once come to you in a state of complete disarray, now thriving under your care much as she had under your guidance. everything in the room was carefully chosen to exude warmth, from the plush armchairs that encouraged relaxation to the subtle scent of lavender that lingered in the air, a calming presence in and of itself.

patients came to you from all walks of life, each bringing with them a story woven from the threads of their experiences, traumas, and desires. there were those who arrived at your doorstep with their defences up, their walls built high. but you had a way with people, a way that transcended the clinical distance that often characterized the relationships between psychiatrist and patient. you didn’t just listen to them—you heard them, truly, deeply. you took in not only their words but also the silences between them, the unspoken fears that hid behind carefully chosen phrases, the way their eyes darted away when a subject became too painful to confront.

your reputation had spread quietly, almost organically. it wasn’t that you were a miracle worker or that you possessed some mystical ability to cure what ailed them. rather, it was your presence, the way you made people feel seen and understood without judgment, that drew them in. you never approached a session with preconceived notions or diagnoses waiting to be confirmed. each patient was a blank canvas, and it was your role to help them paint the picture that best represented their truth, no matter how fragmented or abstract it might be.

pills had always been a contentious issue for you. the pharmaceutical industry, with its glossy advertisements and promises of quick fixes, had never sat well with you. to you, the mind was not a machine that could be fine-tuned with a simple dose of chemicals. it was a complex, ever-evolving entity, influenced by experiences, environment, and relationships. you believed that true healing came not from numbing the symptoms but from addressing the root causes, from understanding and untangling the web of emotions and memories that led to a patient’s distress.

when the need for medication arose—and it did, at times, arise—you approached it with the utmost caution. you prescribed only the smallest doses necessary, believing firmly in the principle of ‘less is more.’ and even then, you coupled any prescription with a robust plan of therapy, ensuring that the medication was merely a tool to assist in the journey, not the journey itself. the low dosages you recommended rarely led to backlash, and your patients appreciated your restraint, knowing that you were not one to dole out pills like candy but rather used them as a last resort.

it was in your interactions with your patients that your true skill shone. each session was a dance, a delicate balance of guiding and listening, of leading without forcing. you never rushed them, never pushed them to confront more than they were ready to face. instead, you let them set the pace, allowing the conversation to flow naturally. and when the time came to delve deeper, you did so with a gentleness that put them at ease.

park minhyuk, a man in his early forties who had walked into your office carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. his face was lined with the stress of a life lived under constant pressure, his eyes betraying a deep-seated weariness. he had been referred to you by a friend who spoke highly of your methods. the first time he sat across from you, he looked hesitant, almost skeptical, as if he didn’t quite believe that talking could help him.

“i’m not sure this is going to work,” he had said, his voice heavy with doubt. “i’ve been to therapists before. they all just tell me to take some pills and come back in a few weeks.”

you leaned back in your chair, studying him with a calm, measured gaze. “i’m not here to force anything on you, mister park,” you replied softly. “i’m here to listen, and we’ll move at a pace that feels right for you. there’s no rush.” he had looked at you then, really looked at you, as if searching for something, some sign that you were different. you met his gaze steadily, offering nothing but the quiet assurance that you were there to help, not to judge.

over time, he began to open up, slowly at first, testing the waters. he spoke of his job, the immense pressure to succeed, the constant fear of failure that gnawed at him day and night. he talked about his family, the wife and children he loved dearly but felt disconnected from, the guilt that weighed on him for not being more present in their lives. as he spoke, you listened—not just to his words but to the pain behind them. you noticed the way his hands clenched and unclenched when he talked about his work, the slight tremor in his voice when he mentioned his children. and when he finally began to talk about the darker thoughts that sometimes crept into his mind, the moments when he wondered if it would be easier just to disappear, you didn’t react with shock or alarm. instead, you nodded, acknowledging his feelings without judgment.

“i understand that it feels overwhelming,” you said gently. “but it’s important to remember that these thoughts, as heavy as they are, don’t define you. they’re part of what you’re going through, but they don’t have to be the end of your story.” he looked at you then, a flicker of hope in his tired eyes. “you really think i can get through this?”

“i do,” you replied, your voice steady and sure. “and i’m here to help you find the way.” his journey wasn’t easy, and there were setbacks along the way. but he returned week after week, drawn not just by your words but by the genuine care you showed. and slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, he began to heal. he started taking more time for himself, reconnecting with his family, finding ways to manage the stress that had once consumed him. the transformation wasn’t immediate, but it was real, and it was lasting.

your practice grew, not because you advertised or sought out patients, but because word of mouth spread. people spoke of you with a kind of reverence, not because you were a miracle worker, but because you offered them something rare in the world of mental health—a safe space where they could be themselves, where they could speak without fear of judgment, where they knew they would be heard.

even those who had been through the harshest of environments—prisoners, veterans, people who had been hardened by life—found solace in your office. they recommended you to others, saying, “you should see her. she’s different. she cares.” and they weren’t wrong. you had found your calling, not in the pills or the textbooks, but in the people who sat across from you, day after day, baring their souls in the hope of finding some relief from the burdens they carried. and you met them with compassion, with understanding, with a quiet strength that reassured them they were not alone.

despite your skill in navigating the landscapes of other’s minds, there was a vast, uncharted territory within your own that you could not seem to traverse. you could guide others out of their darkness, yet when it came to your own, you were perpetually lost, stumbling through a fog that only seemed to thicken with time. it was a darkness that you couldn’t quite pinpoint, a gnawing emptiness that seemed to have no origin, no clear beginning. you often wondered when it had all started, but the truth was as elusive as the peace you sought.

perhaps it began when your father left. you could still remember the day he walked out, his shadow stretching long across the floor as the door closed behind him. the silence that followed was deafening, a silence that you had been trying to fill ever since. you were young then, too young to understand why he was leaving, too young to grasp the implications. but the abandonment had left a scar, a deep, festering wound that never quite healed. you wondered if that was where it all began, this relentless feeling of being untethered, of floating aimlessly in a vast, empty space.

maybe it was when your mother overdosed, her lifeless body found slumped over in the bathroom, surrounded by the remnants of a life that had spiraled out of control. you had been the one to find her, a memory that still haunted you, that still woke you in the middle of the night drenched in sweat. the sight of her pale, lifeless face was seared into your mind, a constant reminder of the fragility of life, of how easily it could slip through your fingers. you had been left to pick up the pieces, to make sense of the senseless, and in doing so, you had buried your own grief, your own pain, deep within you, where it festered in the dark.

there were your grandparents, the last anchors in your life, the last semblance of stability. their deaths had come like a storm, sudden and unforgiving, leaving you alone in a world that seemed to be crumbling around you. they had been your safe haven, the only ones who understood the weight you carried, and when they were gone, it felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath you. alone. that word echoed in your mind, reverberating off the walls of your empty apartment, a constant reminder of your isolation.

you hated being alone. it wasn’t just a dislike; it was a deep-seated fear, a terror that clawed at you from the inside. when you were alone, your mind became a labyrinth of dark thoughts and memories, each corner hiding another shadow, another demon waiting to pounce. the silence was unbearable, suffocating, so you filled it with noise, any noise that could drown out the voices in your head. you couldn’t stand the short sessions with your patients, craving more time with them, more connection, more distraction from the void inside you. the hour would pass, and you would find yourself wanting to reach out, to extend the session, to hold on to the connection a little longer, just a little longer. but you never did. you were their healer, not the other way around.

housework became a ritual of distraction, each chore accompanied by the blaring sound of music that reverberated through the walls, filling the empty spaces with melodies that drowned out the silence. without music, the house felt too big, too empty, too full of memories you didn’t want to confront. you couldn’t sleep without a movie playing in the background, the flickering light and the familiar voices lulling you into a false sense of security. the thought of lying in bed in complete silence, left alone with your thoughts, was unbearable. so, the movies played, one after another, their comforting narratives keeping the darkness at bay for just a little while longer.

but at the end of the day, when the music stopped, when the movies ended, you were left with nothing but the quiet hum of the empty apartment and the stark realization that you were alone. no parents to comfort you, no friends to lean on, no boyfriend to share your life with. just you. and it wasn’t enough. you had poured so much of yourself into your work, into helping others heal, that you had neglected your own wounds, your own needs. you had become a vessel, emptying yourself for the sake of others until there was nothing left for you.

your patients were the only ones who filled that void, the only ones who made you feel needed, wanted. they confided in you, trusted you, relied on you, and for a while, it was enough. but they were temporary, each one coming to you broken and leaving whole, while you remained the same, a healer who couldn’t heal themselves. when they got better, when they no longer needed you, it broke your heart a little more each time, even though you knew it was coming. it was the nature of your work, after all, to help them, to guide them, and then to let them go. but the letting go was the hardest part because it meant returning to the silence, to the emptiness, to the loneliness that gnawed at you, growing stronger with each departure.

you were sitting in your office, the soft glow of the desk lamp casting long shadows across the room as you sifted through patient files and prescription bottles. the clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, but you barely noticed. the weight of the empty office felt like a cocoon, enclosing you in a familiar, if not comforting, solitude. the sterile smell of paper and faint traces of disinfectant mingled in the air, a scent that had become as much a part of your life as the darkness that you couldn't seem to shake.

the faint sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, growing louder as they approached your door. you knew who it was before she even knocked—a gentle, almost tentative rap on the door, followed by the soft creak as it swung open. “still here?” your manager’s voice was gentle, but there was an underlying note of concern that she couldn’t quite mask. hara stepped into the room, her eyes sweeping over the scattered files and the bottles of pills lined up in neat rows on your desk. the look she gave you was one you’d seen many times before—a mix of empathy, perhaps a touch of pity, and something else that you couldn’t quite place.

you didn’t look up immediately, your eyes fixed on the file in front of you as you made a show of scribbling a note in the margins. “just wanted to get as much work done as i could,” you said, finally glancing up with a smile that felt foreign on your lips, a practiced expression that you’d perfected over the years. she didn’t say anything at first, just watched you with those knowing eyes of hers. then she moved closer, placing a hand on your shoulder. the touch was warm, grounding in a way that made you want to lean into it, to close your eyes and let the world fall away. but you didn’t. instead, you stayed still, your smile frozen in place.

“you need to rest,” she said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that made something in your chest tighten. she squeezed your shoulder gently before letting her hand drop back to her side. “i will,” you assured her, the lie slipping out as easily as all the others. it was what you were supposed to say, after all, what she expected to hear. but you both knew the truth, didn’t you? you weren’t planning on resting, not anytime soon. rest meant being alone with your thoughts, and that was something you couldn’t bear.

she sighed, a soft sound of resignation, and you could see the conflict in her eyes. she knew she should insist, should tell you to go home and take care of yourself. but she also knew what you would say, how you would deflect with that same smile and those same empty promises. so she didn’t push. instead, she gave you a small nod and fished a set of keys out of her pocket. “lock up when you’re done, alright?” she said, holding the keys out to you.

you reached out to take them, your fingers brushing against hers for the briefest moment before she pulled her hand back. “i will,” you said again, and this time she didn’t bother to respond. she just nodded, casting one last glance around your barren office—the empty desk devoid of personal touches, the phone that never rang—before turning and walking out of the room. the door clicked shut behind her, leaving you alone once more. the silence was palpable, pressing in around you, but you welcomed it. it was better than the alternative. you turned back to the files, flipping through them with the pretense of work, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in the fog that seemed to constantly hover just at the edges of your consciousness.

you let the minutes tick by, the hours bleeding into one another as you went through the same files, the same bottles, over and over again. you knew there was nothing left to do, nothing left to distract yourself with, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. not yet. not when you knew what awaited you outside—the cold, unwelcoming night, the empty apartment, the silence that you couldn’t drown out. but eventually, the futility of your actions became impossible to ignore. the same patient files stared back at you, the same labels on the bottles mocking you with their uselessness. you sighed, a long, drawn-out exhalation of breath that carried with it all the weariness you felt but couldn’t show. there was nothing left to do, no more excuses to stay.

reluctantly, you gathered the files and put them back in their proper place, the routine motions bringing you no comfort. the click of the lock on the file cabinet echoed in the empty room, a finality that made your heart sink. you picked up the keys your manager had left you, your fingers curling around the cool metal, and stood up. the room was dark now, the only light coming from the faint glow of the streetlamps outside. you turned off the desk lamp, plunging the room into shadow, and made your way to the door. the hallway was just as empty as it had been when she left, the building silent save for the occasional creak of the floorboards. you locked the door behind you, the keys jingling in the quiet as you slipped them into your pocket.

the night air was cool when you stepped outside, unlike the stale, sterile atmosphere of the office. you tucked your hands into your pockets, your breath misting in the air as you stood there for a moment, letting the city’s sounds wash over you. it was late—nearly two in the morning—but the city was still alive, the distant hum of traffic and the occasional shout from a passerby reminding you that you weren’t completely alone.

but it didn’t bring you any comfort. if anything, it made the emptiness inside you more acute, unlike the vibrancy of the world around you. you weren’t tired, though you wished you were. exhaustion would have been a mercy, a way to escape the thoughts that clawed at you in the quiet. but sleep was as elusive as peace, and you knew that returning to your empty apartment would only make things worse.

so you let your feet carry you down the street, the familiar route to the small bar that stayed open late. it wasn’t much, just a hole-in-the-wall with dim lighting and a jukebox that played old songs, but it was something. a place where you could lose yourself for a little while, where the music and the people could drown out the noise in your head. the bar was nearly empty when you walked in, just a few regulars nursing their drinks and the bartender wiping down the counter. you slipped onto a stool at the far end, nodding in acknowledgment as the bartender approached.

“just a whiskey,” you said, your voice low, and he nodded, pouring you a glass without a word. you downed the first drink quickly, the burn of the alcohol a fleeting comfort, and ordered another. the jukebox played a song you didn’t recognize, the melody soft and haunting, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in it. the chatter around you faded into the background, the clink of glasses and the murmur of voices becoming nothing more than white noise.

but the comfort was temporary, as it always was. the bar was closing, the bartender giving you a sympathetic look as he handed you your tab. you paid it without complaint, sliding off the stool and making your way to the door with a wave of thanks. the night was colder now, the wind biting at your skin as you walked back to your apartment. the streets were emptier, the city slowly falling asleep, and you found yourself wishing you could do the same. but as you reached your building, the familiar weight of dread settled in your chest. you unlocked the door and stepped inside, the silence immediately enveloping you, as it did every night.

you moved through the motions mechanically—kicking off your shoes, tossing your keys on the table, flicking on the lights. but the apartment felt as cold and lifeless as you did, the emptiness pressing in on you from all sides. you thought about turning on the television, letting the sound fill the void, but you couldn’t muster the energy. instead, you stood in the middle of the room, staring at nothing in particular, feeling the weight of the silence bear down on you.

it was suffocating, this loneliness, this isolation. it was a constant companion, one that you couldn’t escape no matter how hard you tried. and as you finally collapsed onto the couch, pulling a blanket around your shoulders, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was how it would always be. if you were destined to live your life in this void, surrounded by silence and shadows, with no one to share it with. the night stretched on, the city outside your window slowly quieting as it finally succumbed to sleep. but sleep didn’t come for you, not easily, not with the thoughts that swirled in your mind, the memories that haunted you. so you lay there, staring up at the ceiling, letting the darkness close in around you, wondering if there would ever be a way out.

the morning sunlight streamed through the narrow gap in your curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. you stretched awake, the familiar feeling of weariness hanging heavy in your limbs, but there was something different about today. it was as though a thin veil had lifted, allowing a sliver of anticipation to seep in. you had always been a person of routine, and the thought of returning to your office, of delving back into the rhythm of your work, brought with it a semblance of comfort, a fleeting escape from the solitude that plagued you.

you moved through your morning routine with efficiency, the motions almost automatic. the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen as you prepared a simple breakfast—toast and jam, with a cup of strong coffee to wake your senses. the radio hummed softly in the background, a familiar companion that provided a semblance of normalcy. you dressed with deliberate care, choosing a crisp, tailored suit that made you feel professional and polished, ready to face whatever the day might bring.

the trip to the office was a brief but pleasant ritual, the city streets bathed in the soft morning light, the air carrying the promise of a new day. you relished the routine, the predictable patterns that offered a sense of control. as you approached your building, you caught sight of the familiar facade, the reassuring solidity of it grounding you.

but as you walked through the entrance, you were greeted by an unexpected sight. hara stood waiting in the lobby. her presence was unusual at this hour, and her expression was more serious than usual. you offered her a friendly smile, but she didn’t immediately return it. instead, she gestured for you to follow her to a quiet corner of the building. “you’ve been working hard,” she began, her tone carrying a note of cautious warmth. “and i wanted to have a word with you.”

you paused, a twinge of apprehension flickering in your chest. “am i in trouble?” you asked, the question escaping before you could second-guess it. hara shook her head, her lips curling into a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “no, not at all. well, not yet,” she said, inhaling deeply as if gathering her thoughts.

your heart skipped a beat. “what do you mean?” the uncertainty in her voice sent a ripple of unease through you. “what’s wrong?” she took a moment to collect her thoughts, her eyes meeting yours with a look of barely concealed concern. “you have a new patient,” she said finally, her tone shifting to one of subdued excitement as she watched your eyes light up at the news.

“really?” you asked, a spark of enthusiasm igniting within you. it had been a while since you had taken on a new case, and the prospect of diving into a fresh challenge was invigorating.

hara held up a hand, her expression turning more serious. “don’t get too excited,” she said, her tone taking on a warning edge. “he’ll be your project patient for your internship at the asylum.” the words hit you like a cold splash of water. “the asylum?” you repeated, the dismay clear in your voice. “but i love working here. this office, this environment—i don’t want to leave.”

hara’s face softened, and before you could fully process what was happening, she stepped forward and enveloped you in a hug. the gesture was unexpected, her arms wrapping around you with a warmth and sincerity that contrasted sharply with her usual professional demeanor. for a moment, you let yourself sink into the embrace, the human contact a rare and precious balm against the isolation that had become your constant companion.

“i know,” she said, her voice muffled against your shoulder. “i know how much you love it here. but this is something you have to do for your career. it’s a good opportunity, and it’s important for your development.”

you barely registered her words, too caught up in the comforting proximity of another person. the embrace lasted only a few moments, but it was enough to stir something deep within you—a longing for connection, for understanding, for more than just the superficial interactions of your daily life. when she finally pulled away, you nodded, a sense of reluctant acceptance settling over you. “okay,” you said softly, the word carrying more resignation than agreement.

she gave you a reassuring smile, her eyes reflecting a mix of sympathy and encouragement. “i’ll call a taxi for you,” she said, guiding you toward the building’s entrance. “it’s best if you head over there now. and remember to keep an open mind. this could be a valuable experience.” you followed her outside, the cool morning air brushing against your face. she hailed a taxi and handed you the keys to the office, reminding you to lock up when you finished. you took the keys with a grateful nod and watched as she walked back inside, her figure disappearing into the building.

the ride was a blur of anxious anticipation and reluctant acceptance. the city passed by in a series of shifting scenes, the familiar streets giving way to more industrial landscapes as you neared the asylum. it was a place you had heard about in passing but had never visited—a cold, imposing structure that seemed to loom on the horizon, its architecture stark and unwelcoming.

the asylum loomed before you like a cold, implacable sentinel against the sky, its grim, grey façade cutting through the morning mist. you stood before it for a moment, taking in the sheer scale of the structure—an imposing monolith that seemed to absorb the light, casting long shadows that stretched over the cracked pavement. the windows were narrow, barred, and the walls bore the harshness of age and neglect. there was something distinctly unwelcoming about it, so unlike the warm, inviting atmosphere of your office.

you pushed open the iron door, and a chill seemed to emanate from the very core of the building. the foyer was austere and utilitarian, the air thick with the smell of disinfectant and something else—a faint hint of despair that clung to the walls and floors. the reception area was starkly lit, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glare over the sterile surroundings. it was a far cry from the soft lighting and cozy furnishings you were accustomed to.

the receptionist sat behind a high counter, her demeanor as frosty as the environment. she looked up as you approached, her gaze assessing you with a detached scrutiny. her uniform was crisp and immaculate, adding to the air of clinical precision that pervaded the space. “name and business?” she asked, her voice flat and devoid of warmth.

you took a deep breath, steeling yourself against the chill that seemed to penetrate your bones. “i’m (y/n) (l/n), here for an internship as the asylum’s psychiatrist,” you said, your voice steady despite the uneasy flutter in your stomach. the receptionist’s eyes narrowed slightly, and her lips twisted into a thin, humorless line. there was something almost predatory in her gaze, a faint glimmer of disdain or perhaps even pity. “follow me,” she said curtly, her tone leaving no room for discussion.

you trailed behind her as she led you through the labyrinthine corridors of the asylum. the hallways were long and narrow, lined with peeling paint and heavy metal doors. the air was heavy, laden with the echoes of distant voices and the occasional clank of metal on metal. you could hear the shuffling of feet, the murmurs and cries of the patients—a cacophony of sounds that was jarringly different from the calm and composed demeanor of your previous office.

as you walked, you noticed the guards stationed at regular intervals. they were stern-faced and vigilant, their uniforms dark and imposing. their presence was a constant reminder of the control and surveillance that permeated every corner of the asylum. you felt their eyes on you, a silent assessment that made you self-conscious. you passed by several cells, their occupants visible through the narrow windows set into the doors. the patients inside were much unlike the composed individuals you were used to. they paced restlessly, their eyes darting with a wildness that spoke of untamed thoughts and unspoken fears. some shouted incoherently, while others simply stared blankly at the walls. the sense of chaos was eerie, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

eventually, the receptionist stopped in front of a heavy door marked with a simple brass plate that read “psychiatrist.” she unlocked it with a practiced twist of the key and pushed it open, revealing a small, spartan office. the room was a stark departure from the warm, inviting space you were used to. the walls were a dull, institutional green, and the furniture was minimal and functional. there was a plain wooden desk with a single chair behind it and a couple of metal filing cabinets against one wall. a solitary window, heavily barred, provided a view of the bleak courtyard outside. the light that filtered through was cold and uninviting, casting long shadows across the room.

the receptionist stepped inside and placed a folder on the desk. “this is your workspace,” she said, her tone as unfeeling as ever. “you’ll be lucky to make it out alive.”

her words were delivered with a chilling finality, and before you could respond, she turned on her heel and walked out, leaving you alone in the sterile, unwelcoming space. the door clicked shut behind her, and you were left standing in the midst of the clinical bleakness that surrounded you. you stood there for a moment, absorbing the reality of your new environment. the emptiness of the room mirrored the uncertainty that was swirling within you. the asylum was a world apart from the comforting familiarity of your office, a place where every detail seemed designed to unsettle and disquiet. as you took in the surroundings, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret for the warmth you had left behind and a growing apprehension for what lay ahead.

you turned your attention to the stack of files on your desk, organizing them with methodical precision. the papers were a jumble of case histories, treatment plans, and patient backgrounds. as you sorted through them, the muted rustle of paper was the only sound breaking the silence of the room. you had just begun to lose yourself in the paperwork when a sharp knock on the door startled you. the sound echoed in the otherwise still space, cutting through the quiet like a sudden gust of wind. you looked up, but before you could respond, the door swung open with a slow creak, revealing two guards.

the guards were as imposing as their environment, their uniforms sharp and unyielding. they moved with an air of efficiency, each holding an arm of the man who followed them into the room. your gaze fell upon him, and despite your initial wariness, you were struck by an unsettling calmness that seemed to envelop him. he didn't resist; instead, he walked with an eerie composure, his movements measured and deliberate.

the man was restrained in a straitjacket, his arms bound tightly and secured with a belt around his torso. the sight of the straitjacket, with its bold white fabric and heavy buckles, seemed almost surreal against the backdrop of the dull office. the restraints were a harsh reminder of the severe nature of his condition, yet his demeanor was unexpectedly serene. as he was guided to the chair across from your desk, you took the opportunity to study him more closely. he was a tall man, his frame lean but solid. his features were striking—a sharp, prominent jawline and high cheekbones that gave him a distinctly aristocratic appearance. his brown eyes, though calm, carried an intensity that seemed to pierce through the confines of the straitjacket, a depth that hinted at complexities beneath the surface.

there was an unsettling grace to his presence, an almost magnetic quality that drew your attention despite the circumstances. his hair was dark and neatly styled, falling in soft waves that framed his face. the contrast between his physical appeal and the harsh restraints was jarring, creating a dissonance that was difficult to ignore. the guards remained by the door, their expressions guarded and unreadable. they exchanged a brief, knowing look before stepping out of the room, leaving you alone with the restrained man. their departure was marked by the soft click of the door as it closed behind them, and the silence that followed was thick and heavy.

you were left in the room with the man, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders. the office, with its cold, clinical ambiance, seemed suddenly smaller and more confining. you took a deep breath, trying to center yourself as you prepared to begin the session. the man’s calmness was a definite contrast to the environment of the asylum. he patient’s eyes remained fixed on you, a quiet challenge in their depths, as if he were assessing you as much as you were trying to understand him. you could sense a subtle tension in the air, an undercurrent of anticipation that was almost overwhelming.

you took a deep breath, the silence in the room amplifying the subtle rustle of papers as you mentally prepared yourself for the interaction. the restrained man sat calmly in front of you, his demeanor a striking contrast to the harsh confines of his situation. you cleared your throat, attempting to steady your voice as you introduced yourself.

“hello, i’m doctor (y/n) (l/n),” you said, your tone measured and professional. “i’ll be working with you during this internship.” as you spoke, the man’s lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile. it was a smile that seemed to hold secrets, one that both intrigued and unsettled you. Hhs eyes glinted with an unsettling mixture of curiosity and amusement.

“lee taeyong,” he said, his voice smooth and articulate. the name struck you with the force of a thunderclap. you hadn’t recognized his face immediately, but his name was unmistakable. lee taeyong—an infamous figure known for his involvement in shootings and robberies. his notoriety had led to his confinement in a correctional facility after being deemed mentally unwell. your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your face go pale, the realization dawning with a cold, unwelcome clarity. taeyong’s keen eyes caught the shift in your expression, and a dry chuckle escaped his lips.

“have you heard of me?” he asked, his tone laced with a subtle taunt. you nodded slowly, trying to mask the tension that was creeping into your chest. “yes, i have.”

his laughter was dry and devoid of genuine mirth, a sound that seemed to echo with a dark undertone. “so, are you gonna cure me, doctor?” he asked, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. you squared your shoulders, forcing yourself to meet his gaze with a confidence you didn’t entirely feel. “there isn’t anything i can’t cure.”

his response was immediate, and he leaned in abruptly, causing you to flinch involuntarily. the sudden movement was unsettling, and you found yourself instinctively retreating. taeyong smirked, clearly amused by your reaction. “are you afraid, doctor?” he asked, his voice low and teasing. you steadied your breathing, forcing a calmness into your voice as you responded, “i’m not.”

his eyes widened slightly in surprise. “you’re too pretty to be a doctor,” he remarked, the compliment carrying an edge of mockery. you raised an eyebrow, trying to keep the conversation on track. “why do you think you’re unstable?”

taeyong’s expression shifted slightly, his demeanor becoming more contemplative. “i don’t think i am,” he said, a hint of defensiveness in his voice. “but everybody else does. they think my urges are abnormal.” intrigued, you leaned forward slightly. “what kind of urges?”

his eyes darkened with a certain intensity as he spoke. “i like the fear and the thrill,” he said, his voice carrying a chilling calm. “the screams, the way everyone is powerless against me. it’s exhilarating.”

your mind raced as you processed his words, but you decided to take an unexpected step. you reached for the straps of his straitjacket and began to unfasten them, freeing his arms. taeyong’s eyes widened in surprise. “what are you doing?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

you smiled, trying to project a sense of ease despite the underlying tension. “i thought you might be more comfortable without the restraints.” his gaze remained fixed on you, his expression a blend of astonishment and wariness. “aren’t you afraid i’ll kill you?”

you met his gaze steadily, feeling a strange sense of calmness despite the gravity of the situation. “i don’t think you will.” his brows knitted together in confusion. “how do you know?”

“because,” you said softly, “i don’t believe you’re a bad person.” the sincerity in your voice seemed to take him aback. his eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he looked genuinely disoriented by your kindness. the atmosphere in the room seemed to shift, a tentative bridge forming between the two of you.

taeyong leaned back, his posture relaxing slightly as he began to open up in a way that was both fascinating and ominous. he spoke of his past, his thoughts, and his perceptions with a raw honesty that was unsettling yet compelling. his words were a tapestry of dark desires and twisted logic, but there was an underlying vulnerability that made it clear he was grappling with his own demons.

as the session drew to a close, he looked at you with an unsettling blend of anticipation and something akin to respect. “i look forward to seeing you again, doctor.” he said, his voice carrying an eerie calmness. to your surprise, you found yourself looking forward to it as well. there was something about the interaction, the unexpected connection, that left you both unsettled and intrigued. as you watched him being escorted out by the guards, the weight of the session settled on your shoulders.

the morning sunlight filtered through the blinds of your apartment, casting a warm, gentle glow over the room. yet, despite the comforting start to your day, your mind was occupied with a singular thought—your next session with taeyong. the anticipation was a new and curious sensation, one that both thrilled and unsettled you. there was something compelling about his presence, a magnetic pull that made you eager to continue your interactions with him.

as you prepared for work, you found yourself contemplating how to make the next session more engaging, more comforting for him. the idea of a small gesture—something that might break through the cold walls of the asylum and create a connection—seemed to be the right approach. you decided to get him a gift, a symbol of the positive interaction you hoped to foster.

you ventured out to a small, quaint shop that morning, one filled with charming trinkets and comforting knick-knacks. your eyes scanned the shelves until they fell upon a small, stuffed kitten, its plush fur a soft, inviting shade of cream. it was delicate and unassuming, a small source of innocence amidst the reality of the asylum. you picked it up with a sense of purpose, imagining how such a simple object might ease the harshness of taeyong’s environment.

when you arrived at the asylum, the day’s routine felt different. the walls seemed colder, the atmosphere more oppressive, but the small stuffed kitten in your bag provided a small spark of warmth. as you approached your office, you were taken aback to find taeyong already seated in the chair, an unexpected sight. his presence there, so much earlier than anticipated, stirred a peculiar flutter in your chest. “you’re early today,” you remarked, trying to keep your tone light and neutral.

taeyong looked up at you, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “i couldn’t wait to see you,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of excitement that made your heart skip a beat. the sincerity in his words resonated deeply with you, and a small, inexplicable connection seemed to click into place. you felt a warm flush creep up your neck, but you quickly pushed the feeling aside, focusing on your planned gesture.

“i have something for you,” you said, reaching into your bag and pulling out the stuffed kitten. taeyong’s eyes widened with surprise and curiosity. “what’s this?” he asked, his tone a mix of intrigue and amusement.

you extended the kitten towards him, a smile playing at your lips. “it’s a little gift. i thought it might help make things a bit more comfortable here.” he took the kitten from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief, electrifying moment. as he cradled the stuffed animal in his hands, a look of genuine appreciation crossed his face. “i’m honored,” he said softly, his gaze fixed on the kitten.

you watched as he examined the plush toy with a sense of fascination. “i want you to take good care of it,” you said, your voice gentle. “if you can fight the urge to hurt it, then maybe you can fight the urge to hurt anything.” his lips curved into a mischievous smile as he toyed with the kitten, his fingers brushing over its soft fur.

“is that your way of challenging me, doctor?” he asked, his tone light but edged with an underlying seriousness. you nodded, trying to maintain a composed demeanor. “something like that,” you replied.

the session began in earnest, the conversation flowing with a new ease as taeyong’s attention seemed drawn to the small stuffed animal. he spoke of his past, his feelings, and his thoughts with a candor that was both unsettling and revealing. his insights were intertwined with moments of dark humor and cryptic reflections, making it clear that he was a man of contradictions. at one point, as you listened intently, his hand, still holding the kitten, brushed against a stray strand of hair that had fallen across your face. the touch was fleeting but intimate, a gesture that caught you off guard. you looked up to meet his gaze, finding a depth in his eyes that was both intense and vulnerable.

“i meant what i said earlier,” taeyong said, his voice softening. “you’re too pretty to be a doctor.” you blinked in surprise, trying to process the compliment amidst the complexity of the situation. “what do you mean?” you asked, genuinely curious.

his expression remained earnest, his eyes locking onto yours with a sincerity that was rare in such an environment. “you just don’t seem like someone who should be confined to this place. there’s something different about you.”

the moment lingered between you, charged with an emotional undercurrent that was difficult to define. despite the oddity of the situation, you felt a surprising warmth in his words. it was an acknowledgment of your humanity amidst the dehumanizing environment of the asylum. as the session drew to a close, you gathered your things, the small stuffed kitten resting on the desk between you. taeyong’s gaze followed you with an almost reluctant admiration, and there was a sense of anticipation in the air as you prepared to leave.

“i look forward to seeing you again,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of genuine hope. you nodded, a small smile touching your lips. “i look forward to seeing you too.”

with that, you watched as taeyong was escorted out by the guards, the connection between you both lingering like a faint but persistent echo. the asylum, with all its harsh realities, seemed momentarily softened by the unexpected bond that had formed. as you left for the day, the small stuffed kitten seemed to symbolize a fragile bridge between your world and his. you just weren't aware of how sturdy, nor how fragile, the bridge really was.

the weeks that followed your initial session with taeyong felt like a delicate dance, a precarious balance between professional distance and the growing, unspoken connection that had begun to develop between you. each session became a complex interplay of emotions and revelations, and you found yourself increasingly invested in his progress.

you had begun to believe, with a cautious optimism, that taeyong was making strides. the sessions were marked by moments of genuine insight and self-reflection from him, which seemed to indicate that he was grappling with his inner turmoil in ways that were both constructive and revealing. there was an undeniable progress, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of hope every time you saw him approach with that enigmatic smile.

during one particular session, you found yourself immersed in a conversation about his past, his regrets, and his aspirations. taeyong, with his characteristic curiosity and sharpness, suddenly shifted the focus of the conversation. “what about you, doctor?” he asked, his voice carrying a tone of genuine interest. “what do you struggle with?”

the question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you hesitated. it was unusual for a patient to turn the spotlight onto you, especially someone like taeyong, whose own issues seemed so consuming. you took a deep breath, searching for the right words to encapsulate the truth.

“i suppose,” you began, struggling to find a way to articulate your feelings. “i've been lonely my whole life.” taeyong’s eyes softened, and for a fleeting moment, the hardness in his gaze seemed to melt away. “no woman like you should ever feel lonely,” he said softly, his tone laced with an unexpected gentleness.

his words struck a chord deep within you, and you felt a sudden, almost overwhelming rush of emotion. you looked up, meeting his gaze with a mixture of vulnerability and curiosity. before you could fully process the weight of his statement, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “do you feel lonely with me here?” he asked, his voice a low whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

your heart pounded in your chest, the sound echoing in your ears as if to drown out the rest of the world. the proximity of his body, the intensity of his gaze, and the warmth of his breath combined to create a heady cocktail of sensations. you fought to maintain composure, but the answer came out more as a breathless confession. “no,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper.

taeyong’s fingers, moving with deliberate slowness, traced a path along your neck. the touch was light but electrifying, a sensation that left your skin tingling and your breath catching in your throat. “you shouldn’t,” he said, his voice carrying an almost imperceptible note of possessiveness.

the weight of his touch, the intimacy of the moment, and the raw honesty in his words created a potent mix of emotions that overwhelmed you. as the session drew to a close, you found yourself grappling with a tumult of conflicting feelings. the professional boundaries that had once seemed so clear were now blurred, and you were left with a gnawing sense of guilt for finding comfort in a connection that was fundamentally inappropriate.

the room seemed colder as you watched him leave, the reality of the asylum returning with its harsh, unyielding presence. you could still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the echo of his breath in your ear, and the weight of his words in your heart. the session had brought a confusing mixture of warmth and unease, and as you locked up your office and walked out into the night, the loneliness you had tried so hard to combat felt more intense than ever.

as the days turned into weeks, the asylum’s sterile corridors and echoing chambers seemed to shrink in comparison to the burgeoning world of emotions you experienced during your sessions with taeyong. each encounter with him became a delicate interplay of professional duty and personal connection, weaving a complex tapestry of emotions that you struggled to fully comprehend.

the sessions grew more intense and revealing, both for you and for taeyong. you could no longer ignore the way your heart would race in anticipation of each meeting. the way his eyes would light up when he saw you, the way his presence seemed to fill the room with a bright energy—it was impossible to deny the deepening bond between you.

in one particular session, taeyong sat across from you, the small stuffed kitten now a constant companion in his hands. the stuffed animal had become a symbol of the connection you shared, its presence a silent witness to your evolving relationship. “you know,” he began, his voice carrying a hint of introspection, “i’ve been thinking a lot about what we’ve talked about. you’ve managed to get me to see things differently. i never thought i’d say this, but i think i owe you more than just my progress.”

you looked at him, your heart skipping a beat at his unexpected confession. “what do you mean by that?” you asked, your voice steady but filled with curiosity. his gaze was intense, his eyes searching yours with an earnestness that was both disarming and endearing. “you’ve been patient with me, more patient than anyone else ever has. i think,” he paused, choosing his words with care. “i think you’ve made me feel things i didn’t know i could still feel.”

you could feel the weight of his words settling over you, a mix of excitement and apprehension. “and what is it that you feel?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper. he took a deep breath, his fingers absently stroking the kitten. “i feel understood. cared for, in a way I never thought i’d experience again. it’s strange, but i think i’m beginning to look forward to these sessions more than i should.”

the admission struck a chord within you, and you felt a mixture of joy and sadness. joy at the progress he was making and sadness at the realization that your growing affection for him might blur the lines of your professional role. during another session, you found yourself struggling to maintain your composure as taeyong’s attention shifted to you in a way that felt increasingly personal. he leaned forward, his gaze unwavering as he spoke.

“you know,” he said, his voice low and intimate, “i’ve noticed something about you. you seem different when we talk. there’s something in the way you look at me. something more than just concern.” you felt your cheeks flush, a mixture of embarrassment and excitement swirling within you. “what do you mean?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

his eyes softened, and he reached out, his fingers gently brushing against yours. “i think you care about me more than you let on. and i can’t help but feel the same way.”

the admission hung in the air, charged with an electric tension that was impossible to ignore. you felt a surge of emotion, a tumult of conflicting feelings as you tried to process his words. it was both thrilling and terrifying to acknowledge that your feelings for taeyong had grown beyond the boundaries of professional detachment.

as the session continued, his demeanor shifted. he seemed more relaxed, more open, and the connection between you felt more tangible than ever. the way he would smile at you, the way his eyes would linger on yours—it was clear that the emotional bond between you was deepening. you struggled with the guilt and the moral conflict of your growing affection for him, knowing that it was inappropriate yet feeling a profound, undeniable connection.

the day you arrived for your next session with taeyong, you felt an unusual sense of anticipation. the asylum's cold corridors seemed to blur as you walked briskly toward your office, your mind already filled with thoughts of the conversation you hoped to have. but as you reached the familiar door, a pang of anxiety hit you when you noticed the room was empty.

your heart sank as you turned to the guards stationed outside the office. “where’s taeyong?” you asked, trying to keep your voice calm despite the growing concern. the guards exchanged uneasy glances before one of them responded. “they’ve decided to test their luck with another psychiatrist today. wanted to see how he’d react.”

a cold wave of dread washed over you, and you felt a sharp pang of heartache. before you could ask for more details, the silence of the corridor was shattered by a deafening crash. your heart raced as the sound of shattering furniture and frantic shouting reached your ears.

without a second thought, you sprinted down the hallway, your footsteps echoing in the sterile space. as you rounded the corner, you saw the scene unfolding in your office. taeyong, his face a mask of determination, was wielding a chair above his head, his muscles tensed in a show of raw strength. the psychiatrist lay sprawled on the floor, his face a picture of shock and pain. the guards were shouting, their voices a blur as they rushed toward taeyong. “what happened?” one of them demanded, their tone filled with both anger and concern.

his gaze, sharp and intense, found yours amidst the chaos. “i told you,” he said, his voice carrying a fierce determination, “i wanted to see doctor (l/n).”

the room seemed to freeze for a moment as his words sank in. he was swiftly restrained and escorted back to his cell, leaving you standing in the doorway of your office, your heart aching at the sight of the broken scene before you. the guards, now dealing with the aftermath of his outburst, left you waiting alone in the hallway. time seemed to stretch endlessly as you stood there, your mind racing with a tumult of conflicting emotions. when taeyong was finally brought out again, his demeanor was calmer, though his eyes held a deep, unfathomable intensity.

he looked at you with a mix of curiosity and something more personal. “what were you doing there?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with an edge of disbelief. you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his gaze. “i was waiting for you,” you admitted, your voice soft but earnest.

his eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his features. “seriously?” you nodded, feeling a strange blend of relief and apprehension. “yes, seriously.”

once back in your office, the atmosphere felt charged with an electric tension. you sat across from him, your heart pounding as you tried to make sense of the events. “why did you crash out like that?” you asked, struggling to keep your voice steady. “you were making so much progress.”

taeyong’s expression softened slightly as he reached for the small stuffed kitten that had become a symbol of your sessions. he held it up, its soft fur unmarred by the recent issues. “because,” he said, his voice softening with an intensity that made your breath catch, “i’m in love with you.”

the confession hung heavy in the air, and you felt a surge of conflicting emotions—shock, confusion, and a deep, aching resonance. you stared at him, unable to fully process the gravity of his words. “i am too,” you said finally, your voice trembling with the weight of the admission.

without another word, he leaned forward, his gaze fixed on you with a fierce, unyielding intensity. his lips met yours in a kiss that was both tender and urgent. it felt wrong, a violation of every professional boundary you had sworn to uphold. yet, the raw, desperate need to connect, to feel something beyond the crushing loneliness that had plagued you, overpowered your sense of propriety.

the kiss was intense, filled with a mix of longing and desperation that made your heart race. his lips were warm against yours, his touch both gentle and insistent. every brush of his mouth, every caress of his fingers, seemed to echo the depth of the emotions you had both been struggling to contain. as the kiss deepened, you felt a wave of conflicting emotions—guilt and exhilaration, fear and desire. the world outside faded away, leaving only the overwhelming intensity of the moment. the walls of the asylum, the rules you had so carefully adhered to, and the boundaries you had maintained all seemed to crumble in the face of the unexpected connection.

taeyong’s hands slid up your body, cupping your tits over your blouse. his thumbs brushed against your nipples, which hardened immediately under his touch. you gasped into his mouth, your body responding with a fiery hunger that was impossible to ignore. his touch was rough, yet tender, as if he was afraid of breaking the fragile bond that had formed between you. his words from earlier played in your mind, and you felt a thrill of arousal that was as surprising as it was undeniable. you pushed back from the desk, the chair scraping against the floor as you stood to face him. your hands found the hem of your blouse, lifting it over your head to expose your bra. his eyes raked over your body, dark with desire. “you have no idea,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “how long i’ve wanted this.”

you stepped closer to him, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. it fell away, revealing your full, round tits. taeyong’s gaze was glued to them, his pupils dilating as he took in the sight. he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin as he licked one nipple, then the other, his tongue flicking and teasing until you were moaning with need. your hands found his hair, pulling him closer as his mouth closed around one nipple, sucking hard.

his hands moved to the button of your pants, and with trembling fingers, he unzipped them. you stepped out of them, feeling a sense of vulnerability that was both terrifying and thrilling. he pushed you back onto the desk, his mouth moving down your body as he kissed and licked a trail to your center. his fingers found their way inside your panties, stroking your wet folds.

his tongue darted out, tasting you for the first time. you moaned, arching your back as he explored you with a fervor that left you breathless. he was rough, yet precise, his touch speaking of a hunger that matched your own. you could feel his erection pressing against you through his pants, and the thought of his big dick inside you made you wetter still. his fingers moved to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles that had you panting. your hips rocked against his face, desperate for more. “please, taeyong,” you begged, your voice needy and wanton. “fuck me. make me feel alive again.”

his only response was to stand up, his eyes never leaving yours as he unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. his cock sprang free, thick and hard, and you felt your mouth water at the sight of it. he stepped closer, positioning himself between your legs, and without preamble, he pushed into you.

the sensation was overwhelming—he was so much bigger than any man you had ever been with. it was a stretch, a burn that bordered on pain, but the pleasure was so intense that you didn’t care. you gripped the edge of the desk, your nails digging into the wood as he began to thrust, hard and deep. his strokes were punctuated with dirty talk that made you feel like a whore, but it only served to make you wetter, to make you want him more.

you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, feeling his cock fill you completely. his breath was hot and ragged against your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin. “you’re mine, doctor,” he growled. “no better cure than this pussy, fuck.” the words sent a shiver down your spine, and you knew that this was a line you could never uncross. but in that moment, as you felt him thrust inside you with a roar of pleasure, you didn’t care. he was close, his thrusts sloppy as his fingers pulled your hair, your whimpers making his dick twitch.

his hand slid down to cup your ass, his grip tightening as he pounded into you. your tits bounced with every impact, and you could feel his hot breath on your skin as he whispered obscenities in your ear. it was a symphony of degradation and lust, and you were the eager conductor, urging him on. your pussy was tight around his cock, gripping him with every stroke, and you knew you were close to the edge.

suddenly, he pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and needy. you looked up at him, your eyes glazed with passion, and he smirked. “turn over,” he ordered, his voice gruff. you complied, turning onto your stomach and spreading your legs, the cool desk against your burning skin. he stepped behind you, his cock nudging at your entrance again. without warning, he slammed back into you, making you cry out.

the new angle was exquisite, his cock hitting deeper, reaching parts of you that had never been touched before. you pushed back against him, your body begging for more. his hands gripped your hips, his nails digging in as he picked up the pace. “yeah, take it like that, like the slut you are,” he murmured, his voice a mix of praise and command. your cheeks flushed at the words, but you found yourself pushing back even harder, eager to prove his words true. with every thrust, he whispered filthy compliments about your body, his grip on your hips tightening as he fucked you like he owned you.

his hand reached around to play with your clit, his touch sending waves of pleasure through you. your moans grew louder, filling the room. the sound of skin slapping against skin was the only music in the air, a rhythmic crescendo that grew more intense with every second. you felt your orgasm building, your pussy clenching around his cock. “that’s it, doctor. cum for me,” he encouraged, his voice hoarse with lust. and with a final, brutal thrust, you did, your body shuddering with the force of your climax. he followed shortly after, his seed spilling into you, marking you as his.

once the tremors had subsided, he pulled out, leaving you gasping for air. you felt the stickiness between your legs, a reminder of what had just transpired. as you looked back at him, you saw the smug satisfaction on his face, and you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anger. but it was quickly drowned out by the addictive thrill of the power exchange. you had never felt so alive, so desired. it was therapeutic. and as he stepped closer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, you knew that this was far from over. there was an unspoken promise in his eyes, a challenge for you to come back for more. and you knew, without a doubt, that you would.

as taeyong straightened his clothes, his gaze never left you, the intensity in his eyes as present as ever. he was murmuring something under his breath, and you had to strain to hear his words amidst the whirlwind of emotions you were trying to process. “i feel as if you’ve cured me,” he said softly, his voice carrying a sense of genuine relief.

you blinked, taken aback by his declaration. “are you serious?” you asked, your voice a mixture of disbelief and hope. he nodded slowly, a small, almost serene smile playing on his lips. “yes, i am.”

the room seemed to hold its breath as he began to dress himself, each movement deliberate and composed. your own heart raced as you grappled with the weight of his words. the promise of cure and the possibility of something more twisted together in your mind. he turned to you, his expression serious yet tender.

“i need you to do something for me,” he said, his eyes locking with yours. “anything,” you replied without hesitation, your voice firm despite the storm of emotions brewing within you.

taeyong’s gaze softened slightly, and he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “i need a machine gun.” the request hit you like a jolt. “a machine gun?” you repeated, trying to comprehend the gravity of what he was asking.

“yes,” he confirmed, his voice steady. “if you don’t want to help me, i understand, but i need one.” you were silent for a moment, the enormity of his request settling over you. the ethical and legal implications were enormous, yet the urgency in his tone and the trust he placed in you compelled you to respond. shaking your head, you met his gaze with determination. “i’ll do it.”

taeyong’s eyes lit up with a mixture of relief and gratitude. he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “thank you for curing me.”

the warmth of his touch lingered long after he had left. that night, the enormity of hia request weighed heavily on you, but you were resolute. if this was what he needed, then you would find a way. the loneliness that had plagued you seemed to intensify with the knowledge of his needs, but it also spurred you into action. you spent the evening making discreet, cautious inquiries, your mind racing with worry and determination. you knew the gravity of what you were doing, the potential consequences, but the promise of alleviating your own profound sense of loneliness and his plea drove you forward. finally, after hours of careful navigation through back channels and clandestine meetings, you acquired the machine gun. it was a heavy, ominous object, wrapped in layers of secrecy and dread.

you stored it securely in a hidden compartment of your bag, the weight of it pressing down with a disquieting sense of finality. the next morning, you arrived at the asylum with a mix of dread and anticipation, knowing that the day’s session would be unlike any before. entering your office, you saw taeyong already seated, a patient yet expectant look on his face. your heart skipped a beat as you approached him, the hidden weight of the machine gun in your bag seeming almost to pulse with your anxiety.

“good morning,” you said, forcing a smile. “good morning,” he replied, his eyes immediately catching the glint of anticipation in yours.

you sat down across from him and carefully extracted the machine gun from your bag. his eyes widened in surprise and then satisfaction as you laid the weapon on the desk before him. “i didn’t think you’d actually do it,” he said, his voice a mix of awe and approval. “you said you needed it,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “i wouldn’t let you down.”

taeyong’s gaze softened as he reached out to touch the machine gun, his fingers brushing over the cold metal with a sense of reverence. “thank you,” he said quietly. “i knew you were the right fit for me.” the session continued with a shift in atmosphere. taeyong seemed more at ease, his demeanor less guarded and more open. the conversation flowed with a new ease, and you felt a strange sense of fulfillment. the machine gun, despite its ominous presence, seemed to be a catalyst for something deeper between you.

as the session drew to a close, you found yourself reluctant to leave, savoring the brief moments of connection and understanding. you had made significant strides with taeyong, and the realization that he trusted you so deeply was both exhilarating and unsettling. the rest of the day was spent in a haze of reflection. you sorted through files and paperwork, your mind frequently drifting back to him and the connection you shared. the solitude of your office seemed less oppressive, the quiet punctuated by thoughts of him. each task felt like a distraction from the growing realization that, in taeyong, you had found a source of profound connection.

in the quiet of your office, surrounded by the mundane tasks of your work, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something significant had shifted. the loneliness that had once felt so encompassing now seemed to have been touched by the fleeting moments of intimacy and connection you had shared with him. you were less alone than you had been before, and yet, the path you were on was fraught with moral and emotional complexity.

the night fell over the asylum with a chilling, almost suffocating stillness. you were at your desk, sorting through a mountain of paperwork, the dim light casting shadows over the piles of files. the routine of your task offered a semblance of normalcy, a brief respite from the whirlwind of emotions and decisions that had consumed you lately. you were lost in the monotony of sorting and filing when an unsettling noise shattered the silence.

the distant sounds of gunshots, crashing furniture, and frantic screams pierced through the walls. your heart leapt into your throat as the reality of what was unfolding outside became painfully clear. Instinctively, you ducked under your desk, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you tried to stifle the rising panic. the noises outside were chaotic, a cacophony of violence and fear that seemed to grow louder by the second.

taeyong’s plan had taken shape, and the asylum was in disarray. he had enlisted the help of several other inmates, each fueled by the same chaotic energy that defined taeyong himself. the sound of gunfire rang out intermittently, each shot a reminder of the danger that now surrounded you. the air was thick with tension, and you could hear the muffled sounds of struggle and conflict as the inmates carried out their rebellion.

the commotion grew closer, and suddenly, two figures burst into your office. your heart pounded in your chest as they grabbed you roughly by the arms. you struggled against their grip, your cries of protest barely audible over the tumult outside. they dragged you to your desk and, despite your frantic attempts to break free, began restraining you with the belts from straitjackets. the leather straps cut into your skin as they bound your arms and legs to the desk, rendering you immobile.

you pleaded with them, your voice trembling with fear and desperation. “please, don’t do this. let me go. i’ll do anything.”

the inmates remained silent, their faces impassive as they completed their task. the office, once a place of calm and control, was now a prison, its familiar surroundings now oppressive and alien. as the last of the restraints were secured, the door creaked open, and taeyong stepped into the room. his appearance was striking against the backdrop of screams. he was calm, almost serene, despite the mayhem that had unfolded. the sight of him brought a mix of relief and dread. you gazed up at him, your eyes wide with terror as you tried to make sense of what was happening.

“taeyong,” you said, your voice quivering. “are you really gonna kill me?”

he walked towards you with an unsettling calm, his expression unreadable. as he neared, he paused, his gaze locking with yours. “i’m not going to kill you,” he assured, his voice soft but carrying a chilling edge. “i just need to hurt you enough to make sure you’ll be mine.”

the words hung heavy in the air, and your heart raced as you watched him produce a small metal device from his pocket. the sight of the electric shock equipment made your blood run cold. it was an instrument of pain, and its presence signaled a new level of cruelty.

to your surprise, taeyong’s expression softened, and he took a step closer. “i know you thought you were helping me,” he said, his tone almost apologetic. “but now it’s my turn to help you.”

the device was cold against your skin as he pressed it to your head. a jolt of electricity surged through you, and your body convulsed involuntarily. the sensation was overwhelming, a harsh intrusion into your consciousness. you felt your mind slipping away from the present, a series of fragmented images and memories flashing before your eyes.

your mother’s face appeared, her eyes filled with pain and sorrow. then, your father, followed by your grandparents, each visage a poignant reminder of loss. the images shifted and morphed, replaced by a vision of yourself with taeyong. you were working together, your roles reversed, with him now a cured man, living with you in a semblance of normalcy. the visions continued, showing a future that was both alluring and terrifying. you saw yourselves speeding down a highway, the police in hot pursuit. the trunk of your car was filled with money, a symbol of the danger and thrill that had become intertwined with your relationship. the exhilaration of the chase was intense, but it was overshadowed by an undercurrent of dread.

the final image was the most haunting. you saw yourself detached, your love for taeyong twisted into something unrecognizable. the thrill had turned into a grim reality, the danger of your actions reflected in the cold, hard truths of your choices. the vision was a cruel reminder of the consequences that awaited you, the stark reality of a future bound by the darkness you had embraced.

as the electric shock subsided, your body trembled uncontrollably. your mind was a whirlpool of conflicting emotions and revelations. you felt a profound sense of numbness, the shock leaving you disoriented and frightened. the room seemed to close in around you, what used to be a familiar space now a prison of your own making. in the end, you wished it had killed you. death seemed more reasonable, more promising, than what the future had in store for you.

✧.*

a/n: requested fic!!! the smut part at least i really dk where i was going with this plot lol

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